and woods, and hills, was said to have been built by craftsmen to the most careful design, some of it over centuries. (See McGhee, Wolseley, Loch, Swinhoe, and volumes xxxvii and xxxviii, Illustrated London News, 1860, 1861.)
39. One of Yehonala's six-inch block shoes, fringed with pearls, is said to have fetched ?25,000 after being looted in the Boxer Rising.
40. Flashman is clear about the date of Yehonala's departure: the night of October 6-7. At first sight there is an inconsistency here, since other records established that the Emperor and his suite, including Yehonala, left for Jehol on September 22, the day after Flashman's audience with the Emperor. The explanation is provided in Flashman's narrative: Yehonala did leave on the 22nd, and returned two days later (Flashman states that he did not see her for two days after their first meeting, and writes elsewhere that she made a flying visit to Jehol 'early in my captivity'). Others of the court also remained at Pekin until the last minute; the Empress Dowager and Prince Kung narrowly escaped the French advance on the Ewen-ming-ewen.
41. About twenty badly-armed eunuchs made a valiant effort to stop the French vanguard, and were shot down. (See Wolseley.)
42. The looting of the Ewen-ming-ewen by the French, the subsequent visit by Elgin (whose reaction Flashman reports correctly), the generals' conference about dividing the spoil, the participation of British troops and Chinese villagers, the wanton destruction of anything too big to carry, etc., are all confirmed in other accounts; most of the eye-witnesses express sadness, disgust, or horror, but (with the exception of a few, notably Elgin and Grant) seem to have taken their share. Wolseley, who watched the proceedings with an artist's eye, has interesting reflections on the psychology of looting—which, incidentally, is not a subject to be pronounced on by those who have never had the opportunity. (See Wolseley, Swinhoe, Wrong, McGhee.)
Flashman's black jade chess set may well have been a priceless rarity, even if it was probably a black variety of jadeite rather than nephrite. The very existence of 'black jade' has been denied (see Encyclopedia Britannica, Eleventh Edition), but there are references to it in Chinese literature, and some black jade carvings are said to be extant, including a knife of the Early Chou Dynasty (1122-722 B.C.) illustrated in S. C. Nott's Chinese Jade (1936).
43. On the treatment of the prisoners and the return of the bodies, Flash-man is scrupulously exact. (See Loch and others, with the depositions of Daffadar Jawalla Singh and Sowars Khan Singh and Bugel Singh, all of Fane's Horse.)
44. Whether Flashman is right in his examination of Elgin's motives, he has at least set out clearly the chain of events which led to the decision to burn the Summer Palace, and the arguments which were advanced for and against at the time. And he has done this so fully that there is little to add. Whether Elgin was justified of his act of calculated vandalism is a question which may be set as an interesting historical exercise, but not in the hope of receiving a satisfactory answer. Such matters are simply not to be judged at a distance. It is abominable to destroy priceless works of art; against that, Elgin was faced with the necessity of making a gesture which would not only have the effect of punishment but of inculcating a lesson, and of securing future peace and security so far as he could see; his time and means were limited. His critics cannot merely say he was wrong; they must say what else he could have done, and they must show that it would have been equally effective.
It is also necessary to bear in mind the personality of he man himself, and to put aside the idea that the burning was an act of mindless imperial barbarism (of course, it can be cited as a splendid example of just that, for the purpose of debate, provided all the facts of the case are not deployed). Mindless, it certainly was not. James Bruce was no unthinking vandal; far from it, he was almost the last man to do such a thing. It is not possible to say that he felt no primitive desire for revenge; if he did, he had cause, but not enough to cloud the judgment of an experienced and responsible statesman who was also a sensitive and decent man. Elgin was enlightened beyond his day (his words on imperialism, treatment of foreign races, and his country's high-handedness, spoken at his first interview with Flashman, are to be found in his writings); to some of his contemporaries (though to fewer than modern revisionists seem to realise) he may have seemed almost heretical. He knew, too, that in judging his act, the world would not forget the Elgin Marbles acquired by his father. It took a brave man to burn the Summer Palace. He hated doing it; he does not mention it in letters to his wife, and there is a gap in his correspondence from October 14 to 26, when he notes that he has not been keeping his journal lately. But, knowing the circumstances as only he could know them, he did at Pekin what he thought best, and it worked. Whether the end justified the means is a matter of opinion. Barbaric is a fair word to apply to the deed; it is not, paradoxically, a fair word to apply to the Big Barbarian.
The reactions of his subordinates are interesting. Loch plainly felt guilty about it. McGhee regretted it, but thought it necessary. Wolseley, the artist and art collector, was saddened by it; he had strong views on looting, and paid for his share, although he is said to have been given a Petitot picture by a French officer. The impenetrable Hope Grant refused any share of loot, but insisted that his troops should receive their proper entitlement (which came to about ?4 a head). Gordon wrote of pillaging and destroying 'in a vandal-like manner'; it was 'wretchedly demoralising work'. But he noted succinctly: 'Although I have not as much as many, I have done well.' Since his loot included furs, jade, enamel, and part of a throne, he obviously had. But whatever their opinion of the burning, most of the British felt that the French had got the best of the loot, although Wolseley may have been nearer the truth when he estimated that the Chinese villagers had plundered more than the British and French combined.
45. Flashman disagrees here with Loch, who says that this incident, when Parkes unexpectedly came face to face with his tormentor, the President of the Board of Punishments, took place three days earlier, on October 21.
