It was a defeat almost unprecedented in scale.
Yet even a catastrophic loss did not immediately decide the outcome of a war—especially when the defeated side was a giant like the Qing Empire.
Even if thirty junk ships had been destroyed, Qing could replace them quickly enough.
Both the British Empire and the Qing Empire believed this.
Which was precisely why Britain had no intention of slowing its offensive and giving the enemy time to recover.
The warship Nemesis, built specifically for operations in Asia, pushed directly toward the coast of Canton, smashing through the defensive line.
The coastal fortifications, though impressive at first glance, were largely equipped with outdated cannons.
They could not withstand the bombardment from British warships.
Had there still been wooden ships afloat to serve as shields, the defenses might have resisted for a time.
But those ships were already resting at the bottom of the sea.
Without them, meaningful resistance was nearly impossible.
Realizing that victory—perhaps even resistance itself—was impossible, Lin Zexu requested negotiations in hopes of ending the war as quickly as possible.
I had my own reasons for accepting.
Even though I knew Qing would reject our demands, agreeing to talks would establish clear legitimacy for our next actions.
"It has been some time," I said calmly.
"It is unfortunate that we must meet again under these circumstances."
"…I feel the same," Lin Zexu replied stiffly.
"You requested these negotiations, Governor Lin Zexu, and we accepted. But we are uncertain whether this meeting will have any meaning."
"I do not understand what you mean."
"In our previous negotiations," I continued, "I believe both of us acted sincerely."
"I do not doubt your sincerity."
"But even if you agree to a proposal here, what happens when Beijing rejects it?"
"Would this meeting not become meaningless?"
I had been granted full authority by the British government.
If I said yes, that decision became national policy.
But Lin Zexu, no matter how capable, remained a bureaucrat.
One word from the emperor could end his career instantly.
"His Majesty is willing to provide generous compensation," Lin Zexu said carefully.
"If we demonstrate sufficient goodwill, perhaps this dispute could end here."
"…No."
"You were the ones who declared that war did not concern you," I replied coldly.
"You refused to investigate the incident and told us to strike if we wished."
"And now, after suffering one defeat, you offer money and ask us to leave?"
"Do you truly think so little of the British Empire?"
From the moment Qing rejected investigation and acted unilaterally, they had lost every shred of moral justification.
This was the limitation of their political system.
A single emperor's whim could override every diplomatic norm in an instant.
"We will of course accept indemnities," I said.
"But there must be no confusion with terms such as 'compensation' or 'tribute.'"
"It must be clearly stated that Qing will pay reparations to Britain."
"Wait—does that include the opium that was confiscated?" Lin Zexu asked.
"That depends."
"If goods were confiscated legally within Qing territory, compensation is unnecessary."
"But you entered an island under British control and burned merchant property."
"And British ships were destroyed."
"That must be compensated."
Lin Zexu hesitated.
"So," I continued calmly, "our demands are as follows."
"Open the ports we designate."
"Pay reparations."
"Adjust tariffs according to British requirements."
"Abolish the Cohong monopoly."
"And cede Hong Kong, along with the southern portion of the Kowloon Peninsula."
"There are additional matters—such as diplomatic legations and religious freedom—but those can be negotiated later."
Lin Zexu's mouth fell open.
Although Qing had lost the naval battle and the waters off Canton had effectively become a British playground, he had clearly never imagined demands of this scale.
"W-wait!" Lin Zexu exclaimed.
"These conditions are absurd!"
"Does your country even intend to negotiate?"
"And why are they absurd?" I asked.
"The Qing Empire has never ceded territory to another nation!"
"And requiring reparations means forcing Qing to appear as though we have surrendered!"
Not "appear."
You have surrendered.
Behind me, Admiral George Elliot, who had just heard the translation, looked impressed.
The situation was unfolding almost exactly as I had predicted.
My reputation in London as the foremost expert on Asia would grow even stronger.
A very satisfying development.
"So Qing will never accept these terms?" I asked.
"Even if I agreed, His Majesty would never approve them," Lin Zexu admitted.
"I will send your demands to Beijing, but I do not expect a favorable reply."
"I see."
"In that case, we will await the emperor's answer."
Lin Zexu may not yet realize it.
But once these demands reached the emperor, the disaster would not end with failed negotiations.
Even a loyal and capable official like Lin Zexu would not escape punishment.
In a declining nation, it was often the most capable and loyal officials who suffered most.
If the Daoguang Emperor recognized that accepting these terms now would be the cheapest possible outcome, things might change.
But what were the chances?
Qing had never ceded territory, they said.
Then don't give it.
We'll simply stay here—
Until you start begging us to accept the deal.
* * *
Using the imperial courier system, Lin Zexu sent a report to Beijing with the utmost urgency.
The emperor's response arrived soon afterward.
After meeting Killian Gore, Lin Zexu's thoughts had grown complicated.
Britain's demands were humiliating.
But the power he had witnessed surpassed any nation he had encountered before.
If only Qing had purchased modern artillery and steamships from American merchants earlier…
If only the emperor had approached diplomacy with greater patience and given time to prepare…
Then perhaps Qing's vast resources might have prevented such a crushing defeat.
But it was too late.
The ship had already sailed.
The British now fully understood Qing's weakness.
If negotiations were rejected, Britain would simply send more troops.
Eventually Qing might be forced to sign an even harsher treaty.
Perhaps accepting the treaty now would minimize the nation's suffering.
But Lin Zexu could not say such words aloud.
Suggesting territorial concessions would cost him his head.
Still, Qing had not completely lost yet.
If weapons were quickly purchased from American merchants, defensive preparations could still improve.
If only he were given a little more time.
A little more funding.
Then perhaps he could end the war while minimizing the damage.
But heaven did not grant even that small wish to the empire's last loyal servant.
The imperial decree read:
"Lin Zexu is dismissed from his posts as Governor-General of Liangguang and Imperial Commissioner.
Qishan, Governor-General of Zhili, shall assume responsibility.
Lin Zexu will be summoned to Beijing for investigation and punishment regarding this crisis."
Lin Zexu had feared such an outcome.
But seeing it written in the emperor's decree still shocked him.
"Wait!" Lin Zexu said urgently to the official delivering the order.
"If I am summoned, so be it. But what strategy will the new governor follow against Britain?"
"I do not know the details," the official replied.
"But Western barbarians have invaded. Naturally they must be driven out."
"We will gather as many troops as possible and wipe them out."
"That… will not work," Lin Zexu murmured.
"The emperor believes your weak policies allowed the situation to worsen," the official said bluntly.
"You should prepare yourself for severe consequences in Beijing."
Perhaps this was reality.
Perhaps Lin Zexu had merely been dreaming all along.
He had tried with all his strength to save a declining empire.
And in return he received only a purge.
Before Lin Zexu's eyes, it seemed as though the future of the nation itself had been torn out by a single imperial decision.
Once the mandate of heaven had begun to fade, no human effort could reverse it.
Lin Zexu did not curse the emperor.
Nor did he complain about his fate.
Mounting his horse quietly, he accepted the order.
Only a few silent tears remained in the eyes of Qing's most loyal servant.
* * *
A war between the strongest power of the West and the strongest power of the East inevitably attracted enormous attention.
Among Western nations, the Netherlands watched the conflict particularly closely.
Although its influence had declined, the Dutch still played an active role in international trade.
They wondered whether detailed information about the war could be used to pressure other Asian nations into opening their ports.
Just as they considered this possibility—
The British Foreign Secretary, Killian Gore, extended his hand first.
"If you intend to investigate the war anyway," Killian Gore said,
"we will provide the information directly."
"We ask only two things."
"First, that you deliver this information to all tributary states of Qing."
"Second, if any nation wishes to establish diplomatic relations, the Netherlands will mediate introductions with the British Empire as well."
"In return, we will supply detailed intelligence and ensure Qing cannot obstruct your diplomatic contacts in Asia."
For the Dutch—hungry for opportunity—the offer was irresistible.
They accepted immediately.
Britain soon provided detailed records of naval battles, ongoing combat, negotiations, fleet strength, and commanders involved.
Everything.
Numbers, names, and outcomes were meticulously documented.
The Tokugawa Shogunate in Edo, which regularly received Western information from the Dutch, was thrown into turmoil.
"…So according to this letter," said Shogun Tokugawa Ieyoshi, rereading the report,
"Qing is being utterly destroyed by Britain?"
"That appears to be the case," an official replied.
Tokugawa Ieyoshi frowned in disbelief.
"Qing sent more than twice as many warships."
"And yet they lost a direct battle without sinking even one British ship?"
"More than thirty Qing vessels destroyed—and Britain suffered not a single death?"
"That is what the report says."
"Britain now sails freely along Qing's coast, paralyzing their cities while Qing cannot stop them."
"I still cannot believe it."
If Britain had simply won modest victories, that would be believable.
Western cannons and strange devices already exceeded Japanese technology.
But this?
Fifty ships losing to twenty without sinking even one enemy vessel?
That bordered on the absurd.
"And this part…" Tokugawa Ieyoshi said, pointing at the letter.
"Qing cannonballs struck British ships but bounced off their armor?"
"If this is true, our weapons would be useless against them."
"Cannons lose power over distance," an official replied cautiously.
"But British ships destroyed Qing vessels freely from that same distance."
"The difference must be enormous."
Tokugawa Ieyoshi sighed.
The letter concluded with a warning.
If Japan wished to avoid the same fate as Qing, it should open its ports and establish diplomatic relations.
"Could this be deception?" Tokugawa Ieyoshi asked.
"Perhaps the Dutch seek trade and are misleading us."
"The Dutch have never given us false information before," the official replied.
"And this war is not happening in distant Europe."
"It is happening on Qing's own coast. The truth can be confirmed easily."
"…Even so," Tokugawa Ieyoshi said,
"We cannot make decisions based solely on foreign reports."
"Send agents to investigate secretly."
"Yes, my lord!"
"Oh—and one more thing."
More than the war itself, one detail caught the shogun's attention.
The identity of the man responsible for the conflict.
Tokugawa Ieyoshi ordered that the truth of that information be verified first.
And Japan was not the only nation shaken.
Even the royal court of Joseon, which had maintained almost no relations with Western nations, was stunned by the news.
"So," said Queen Sunwon, the regent ruling in place of the young king,
"you believe the contents of this Dutch letter may actually be true?"
"Your Majesty," her brother replied gently,
"it is Holland, not 'Hwarang.'"
"Was there not a Westerner who naturalized in Joseon during the reign of King Injo?"
"That man—Jan Janszoon Weltevree, known here as Park Yeon—was Dutch."
"Ah, yes," Queen Sunwon said.
"I recall hearing that story."
Because of Qing's recent accusations that Joseon had secretly supported Britain, and the troop movements near the border, the Dutch report had been taken seriously.
Yet its contents seemed unbelievable.
Other royal relatives suggested sending envoys to Qing to learn the truth.
And to prove Joseon had not allied with Britain.
"A wise idea," Queen Sunwon said.
"But if this information proves true…"
"I worry that explanation alone will not suffice."
"If it is true," she added coldly,
"then those officials who dismissed Qing's accusations as nonsense have failed in their duties."
"They will all be replaced."
Whether they had concealed information or simply failed to investigate properly, the conclusion was the same.
They had not fulfilled their responsibilities.
Queen Sunwon could not take her eyes off the final line in the translated Dutch report.
The name of the man responsible for the war.
—
Killian Gore, Foreign Secretary of Britain(confirmed to be of Joseon origin).