The History of China - #265 - Qing 10: Zeelandia Has Fallen

Episode Date: February 16, 2024

Koxinga takes Taiwan by storm, forcing the Dutch East India Company off the island for good, and heralding the dawn of Chinese rule over that overseas outpost. Time Period Covered: 1661-1664 CE Major Historical Figures: Southern Ming Loyalists [Xiamen, Fujian]: Zheng Chenggong (Koxinga), Lord of the Imperial Surname [1624-1662] Yang Ying, Court Revenue Officer & Recordkeeper Dutch East India Co. (VOC) [Ft. Zeelandia, Taiwan]: He Tingbin, Headman & translator Cornelius Caesar [Governor, 1651-1656] Frederick Coyett [Governor, 1656-1662] Hermanus Clenk van Odesse [Governor-select, dispatched 1662] Admiral Jan van der Laan Learn more about your ad choices. Visit megaphone.fm/adchoices

You're listening to an Airwave Media Podcast. TD Direct Investing offers live support. So whether you're a newbie or a seasoned pro, you can make your investing steps count. And if you're like me and think a TFSA stands for Total Fund Savings Adventure, maybe reach out to the History of China. Episode 265, Zolandia has fallen.

First off, I'd just like to wish everyone a very happy Lunar New Year, or Chinese New Year, however you want to term it. It is the year of the wood dragon, which is kind of the lamest of the dragons. But even so, the dragon is like the best symbol. And then like number two is tiger, usually. So even if you're the worst dragon, you're still the worst of the best. And no one can take that away from you. Anyways, what I'm trying to say is, let's get into the episode. We last left off with Zheng Chonggong preparing, seemingly, for an invasion of the island of Taiwan in order to displace the Dutch East India Company's holdings there centered around

Fort Zelandia. And today, minor spoiler alert, although not really, he will do exactly that. Alright, let's go. In April of 1661, strange portents were occurring. One day, a mermaid was sighted off of Zelandia Peninsula. Another night, disembodied voices arose from the execution grounds between the fortress and the city, some speaking Dutch, others Chinese. Another night, an eerie wailing issued from a bastion of Zelandia. Soldiers rushed there, but found nothing. On April 15th, a company scribe noted

that in Sakim, quote, a dog has given birth to two leopards, which died shortly thereafter, this being something strange and never before seen here, end quote. It was truly an ominous silence that hung over Zelandia. Most of its inhabitants had locked their houses, and those who could had already left. At the end of that month, on April 30, 1661, Dutch sentinels finally spotted Zheng Chenggong's fleet. Several hundred large junks headed under full sail towards Taiwan. Chenggong had waited for the monsoon wind to turn southerly, thereby cutting off any chance of Formosa to send word to Batavia and request reinforcements. The Dutch had few ships left there. Of those that had come with the van der Laan fleet, only three remained. Moreover, Dutch guns, whether firing

from Fort Zelandia or Fort Provincia, could not defend all interests to the Bay of Taiwan. The Dutch could do little but watch as Chenggong's fleet sailed into the bay and began landing troops north of Fort Provincia. Thousands of Chinese settlers came to the beaches to help them land. There's even evidence that many had pledged their loyalty to Chenggong well before this time, with company officials later learning from a former translator that, "...we Chinese inhabitants of this land had already promised our loyalty and allegiance to Cheong Kong before his arrival, end quote. With their help, Cheong Kong landed thousands of soldiers, while the Dutch, essentially

defenselessly, watched from their fortresses. The Dutch company officials knew that they could not prevent Cheong Kong from landing, but perhaps they could slow his progress. As such, they sent three small expeditions. First, three Dutch ships were dispatched to oust a group of junks defending one of the small islands in the entrance of the Bay of Taiwan. The junks put up a spirit of resistance, and in the course of the battle, the Dutch flagship blew up, while the others were forced to retreat back to Zealandia. Next, a group of 240 Dutch musketeers advanced on land against a troop of Chinese soldiers who held a sandbar at the entrance to the bay. The captain who led the assault was an old Formosa hand, and he roused his men with stories

of the Chinese revolt of 1652, when Dutch forces had easily defeated a far larger peasant army. He said, quote, The Chinese could not bear the smell of powder and the roar of muskets, Dutch forces had easily defeated a far larger peasant army. He said, quote, The Chinese could not bear the smell of powder and the roar of muskets and would flee against the first charge as soon as a few of them had been shot down, end quote. The Dutch soldiers marched confidently toward a much larger enemy force. They shot three salvos, bringing down a number of soldiers, but Cheung Kong's troops did not break formation. They unleashed a quote, terrific hailstorm of arrows, such that the sky grew dark, end quote. They also sent a detachment to sneak around behind the Dutch force. When the Dutch soldiers noticed that the Chinese

were not fleeing as had been expected, and that moreover, they were now surrounded, they panicked and fled, only to be cut down by Cheonggong's experienced troops. About half survived by wading back to Zealandia in waters up to their necks, but it was nothing if not a major defeat for the Dutch. The third sortie, which attempted to reinforce Fort Provincia, also failed, again because of the size and discipline of Deng Chenggong's armies. As one might expect, this trio of defeats right off the bat rather shocked the Dutch. These were not the poorly armed peasants they'd encountered in 1652. Koxinga's men were trained, battle-hardened veterans of the Manchu Wars. They recovered from chest to thigh with strong armor that, it was at least said, could even stop musket balls. They harried long pikes, and though few had guns, most were skilled with bow and arrow.

Their navy was similarly equipped. Chenggang's junks were not as effective as Dutch ships, but they far outnumbered the Dutch fleet and were manned by experienced sailors. And in the supposed words of Napoleon Bonaparte, which is always applicable to anything regarding Chinese military history, quantity has a quality all its own. That said, Chonggong's forces suffered a dramatic weakness as well. They were short of provisions. Chonggong had had trouble acquiring grain, and the Formosan crops were not yet ready for harvest. He tried to requisition grain stores from Formosan villages, but it wasn't nearly enough. As such, he was desperately short of food. For their part, the Dutch never realized how dire this need was,

and as a result failed to remove or destroy grain stores. Cheonggong, therefore, focused his attention not on the primary fortresses, which would have been difficult to capture, but on the smaller areas such as Provincia and the town of Sakham, where he hoped to find food for his soldiers. When his soldiers marched into Sakham, Cheonggong's troops found enough grain to feed Cheonggong's army for half a month at least. Without it, his troops might have gone hungry, which would have given the Dutch at least a fighting chance. Instead, after taking Sakam, they ate their fill and then surrounded a thin-walled and ill-equipped Fort Provincia at their leisure. Lacking gunpowder,

ammo, or even fresh water, the besieged were soon forced to surrender the fort. Then, Zheng Chenggong turned his attention to the countryside near the Bay of Taiwan, where the Dutch were few and rather easily captured. The aborigines, for their part, offered little resistance. The first to recognize Chenggong's rule were the heavily Christianized Selangors, whom the government had appointed as elders in the Landag ceremonies. On May 3rd, only four days after Chenggong's troops had arrived, they handed over to Chenggong the rattan staves that the governor had given them at the previous Landag. Their neighbors, the Sinkanders, were probably the most pro-Dutch aborigines, and some at first even tried to actively resist, but Chenggong's armies were

vastly superior. Some several days after the so long elders had gone over to Cheng Gong, the sin-counters decided that they too had little choice but to come to terms with him. To those who did so most willingly, Cheng Gong gave silk gowns and coral. Those whose loyalty he suspected, he took into custody. Now, with victory seemingly assured, Zheng Chonggong held his own Landag, which, again, is essentially a national day. The elders of the villages closest to Taiwan, that is to say, Sinkan, Solong, Bakulan, and Matau,

came before him in order to offer up their allegiances. He served a rich banquet and then named village elders, presenting them with formal gowns, caps, boots, and sashes to mark their office. As a result, wrote one of Chenggang's officials, quote, This diplomatic race sparked by Chenggong's arrival resembled that enjoyed by the Dutch some quarter-century earlier. By the middle of May, the elders of dozens of villages had pledged their allegiance to Zheng Chenggong and received their silk gowns, caps, and golden sashes that symbolized such fealty. According to a Dutch schoolteacher who'd fled the Formosan plains to Fort Zolandia on May 17th,

quote, These fellows now speak with much disdain of the true Christian faith which we endeavored to implant in their hearts, and are delighted that they are now freed from attending the schools. Everywhere they have destroyed the books and utensils, and have introduced the abominable usages and customs of heathenism. On hearing the report that Cheonggong had arrived, they murdered one of our Dutch people, and after having struck off the head, they danced around it with great joy and merriment, just as they formerly did with their vanquished enemies.

End quote. A group of around 48 Dutch officials, schoolteachers, missionaries, and soldiers who had been stationed in the southern plains, fled across the mountains to the aboriginal town of Pimaba, that is today Taitung, on Taiwan's southeastern coast, where they joined a small Dutch force. Lacking ammunition, medicine, or even trade goods, they could do little but hold out. They had no help to offer to the besieged in Zelandia. With Fort Provincial lost and remaining Dutch forces on Taiwan scattered and weak, those in Fort Zelandia understood that they needed to prepare for a long siege.

It would have been crowded, since the inhabitants of the town of Zelandia had taken refuge within the fortress, but they did have some cause at least for hope. Zelandia was a powerful, modern fortress, against which Chenggong's cannons could make little headway. Moreover, although they were cut off from the rest of Formosa, they could still at least be relieved by sea. So long as Chenggong found no weakness in their walls, they might be able to hold out for years. For his part, Kosinga was aware of this, because he used to relieve his own fortresses by sea all the time while Manchu armies had watched helplessly from land. He believed that by timing his attack to coincide with the beginning of the southern monsoon season, Fort Zelandia would be unable to send word to Batavia against

the prevailing winds. As, therefore, no reinforcements could or would arrive, he would have plenty of time to capture the fort. As it turned out, however, the besieged officials did actually manage to send a vessel. This lone vessel, forced to tack slowly and against the winds, was nevertheless able to bring its news to Batavia just two days after Koyat's replacement, Clank, had left with the letters complaining that Koyat had exaggerated Zhen Chenggong's threat and with the documents that removed Koyat from power. When told of Zheng's invasion, the Council of the Indies quickly sent a small dispatch ship to overtake Clank and nullify his orders. The ship failed to reach him in time. Thus, when Clank reached Taiwan, he found hundreds of war junks trying to prevent him from so much as landing at Zelandia. He, no surprise here, promptly left, instead sailing for Japan. In the meantime, Batavia

had prepared a defense fleet, which arrived in Taiwan shortly after Clank had left, although adverse weather prevented the landing of its 700 soldiers until September. When Zheng Chenggong saw the fleet's arrival, he reportedly flew into a dark rage. The target of his anger was none other than He Tingbin, yes, the duplicitous, double-dealing, self-serving translator who was the focus of last time, who'd been advising Chenggong throughout the invasion, as well as acting as intermediary. Whenever the Dutch or Chenggong had wanted to send a message to the other, Tingbin, you'll remember, had acted as effective go-between. At times, Tingbin helped

company employees who'd been captured by Jiang forces, as on one occasion where he mitigated the torture of some Dutch prisoners, and on another when he gave Dutch prisoners food and drink. He was also the person to whom Dutch defectors fled, such as in July of 1661, when a company soldier named Anthony Pergens ran to him, and Tingbin secured his employment with Zheng Qiangong. But Tingbin had said that the capture of Taiwan would be easy, and it was turning out to be anything but, which made Chenggong angry.

Tingbin had portrayed Taiwan as a place where rice was plentiful, but it turned out to be otherwise. As reported by a Dutchman who had a chance to talk to some of Zheng's soldiers, quote, In China, they had had a much better talk to some of Zheng's soldiers, But it was when Chenggong saw the Dutch sucker fleet arrive that he got really, really mad. According to Dutch records, he had Tingbin stripped of his honors and sent him to live in a small thatched hut with orders never to show his face again. Others were forbidden to visit him on pain of death. And that will about do it for He Tingbin. The 700 reinforcements from Batavia were too few for a major expedition against Changgong, but company officials decided that they might be

used at least to help lift the siege on Fort Zelandia. The fortress's cannons were unable to hit Zhang's besieging soldiers because the latter were hiding behind the remains of stone houses in Zelandia city. The Dutch therefore launched a coordinated naval and land combined expedition. According to plans, two ships were to sail around behind Zelandia and then bombard the enemy soldiers from the side, while some 400 Dutch infantrymen would then sally forth from Zealandia in a frontal assault. Meanwhile, another small fleet of Dutch ships would attack a group of Cheung Kong's junks that were anchored in the Bay of Taiwan. This plan, such as it was, was launched on September 16, 1661. The wind and tide seemed favorable, but as soon as the ships set out, the wind died. It then began blowing from the opposite direction, making it effectively impossible for the Dutch sailing ships to carry out their mission at all.

When a detachment of Dutch galleys foolishly rode out to engage the enemy, they were routed, losing some five vessels and more than 130 men. Without their naval support, the land assault, predictably, failed. Nevertheless, the besieged maintained hope. With the remaining ships of the sucker fleet, they could still harass Cheong Kong and perhaps disrupt the supply lines from China. More importantly, they could offer naval help to the Manchus, who appeared willing to ally with them against Tunggong. At this point, however, disagreements between Formosan officials and the captain of the sucker fleet made concerted action difficult. The captain, Jacob Keu, failed to show up when expected by the Manchus, and instead sailed back to Batavia.

As such, the Manchu alliance failed, and Zelandia was left once again without any naval support. And then, things got worse. History isn't black and white, yet too often it's presented as such. Grey History, The French Revolution is a long-form history podcast dedicated to exploring the ambiguities and nuances of the past. By contrasting both the experiences of contemporaries and the conclusions of historians, Grey History dives into the detail

and unpacks one of the most important and disputed events in human history. From a revolution based on hope and liberty, to its descent into the infamous reign of terror, there's plenty to discuss, and plenty of Grey to explore. One can't understand the modern world without understanding the French Revolution. So if you're looking for your next long-form, binge-worthy history podcast, one recommended by universities and loved by enthusiasts, then check out Grey History The French Revolution today, or simply search for The French Revolution. That December of 1661, Hans-Jürgen Radis, one of the company's sergeants,

out-and-out defected to Dun-Chung-Gong's side. Radis had served in European wars and knew Fort Zelandia inside and out. He directed Kosinga's attention to a redoubt located on a hill above the fort. If Chung-Kong could take it, he would be able to shoot directly into the company's defenses, and Zelandia would effectively be his. Jun Chung-Kong followed this advice. That January, his men began preparing batteries to fire on the redoubt. Dutch officials realized that Cheung Kong now knew about the only major weakness of their defenses.

They considered making a sortie to dislodge Cheung Kong's men and prevent them from finishing the batteries, but decided not to because they lacked the effective manpower to actually succeed. Instead, when Cheung Kong's cannons began firing, the Dutch prayed, quote, we must trust that our kind-hearted God, who is almighty, will protect us from the terrible violence of our enemies, and we are begging him to do so fervently and with our entire hearts, end quote. The redoubt fell a day later, so, so much for that. With the redoubt captured, the governor and the council of Formosa sent word to Kosinga. They were ready to surrender. Cheonggong knew that he had the upper hand and was able to set strict terms.

Company officials were allowed to keep a small amount of money, but the fort, along with all artillery, munitions, and merchandise was to be his. Moreover, the Dutch were to provide him with a copy of all the names of Chinese debtors and leaseholders on Taiwan who had outstanding claims against them. Once the surrender had been signed and sealed, company forces marched out of the fortress armed and in good order. Then, Zhen Chenggong, Koxinga, the lord of the imperial surname, raised his flag over it Not long thereafter, the Dutch garrisons in Jilong and Danshui also surrendered The Chinese colony that the Dutch had fostered now had a new master

For the first time, Formosa was ruled by an at least nominally Chinese state. And what happened to He Tingbin? I'm sure you're all wondering. Well, never fear. In the final negotiations, as the nationalists were surrendering their fortress to Zheng Chenggang, he appeared once more as the translator, because of course he did. Quote, Tingbin, the scoundrel, land thief, and master trader, has, it appears, little authority among the common people, but is used for translation. End quote.

And that is the last time he appears in the Dutch East India Company records. What happened to him after that is anyone's guess. When the defeated Dutch forces returned to Batavia, Governor Frederick Coyette was arrested and tried for treason for the loss of Formosa. He was found guilty, and his sentence was death by beheading. But fortunately, it was commuted to banishment to the Banda Islands, where he lived until 167474 when the Stadthouder of the Netherlands, Willem III, allowed him to return home under the condition that he never again set foot in the East Indies. When he arrived in Amsterdam, he published a book that purported to tell the true story of the loss of Formosa. It found a ready readership. People in the Netherlands and elsewhere were

curious to know about how the Dutch East India Company had lost one of its most profitable colonies. Kuyat's explanation was straightforward, if polemic. He blamed his superiors in Batavia. If, he said, they'd listened to his repeated warnings about Dengchong Gong and had provided more resources for Formosa's defense, well, then Taiwan simply would not have fallen. Simple as. Was there any truth to Koyet's controversial assertion? Chonggong's armies were huge, well-armed, and battle-hardened, to be sure, having fought for

many years against the powerful Manchu forces. At his height, he had more than 100,000 soldiers and some 3,000 sea vessels. Moreover, he was fighting close to sources of men and supplies on the main hand, whereas the Dutch colony was some 15,000 kilometers from the Netherlands. It is doubtful that any Dutch response at all, even the complete overhaul of the company's defenses that some had proposed, would have enabled it to actually withstand a concerted attack by Zhen Chenggong. The company, quite simply, lacked the resources to oppose him. Formosa was not the only colony that Zhen Chenggong considered attacking.

In 1662, he sent an envoy to Manila with an ultimatum. If the Spanish did not submit and pay him tribute, the colony would be destroyed and then replaced by one of his own. The Spanish governor replied with a defiant letter. Unfortunately, we will never know how Jeon Cheong-gong might have responded because he died on June 23, 1662, at the age of just 37. If he had not, or if his son or successor had followed up on this threat, Manila too might well have fallen. The Spanish colony would perhaps have proven more resilient than Dutch Taiwan, but it's likely that the Zheng family could have destroyed it if they'd so wished.

The Spanish, who had conquered the Aztec and Inca empires almost without a thought, and now ruled over a colonial empire on which the sun never set, were the most successful colonists in the early modern world. Yet, their East Indian colony might well have been defeated by a Chinese force that was smaller and weaker than one that had recently been defeated by the Manchus. The fall of Dutch Taiwan and the vulnerability of the Philippines illustrate a general point about the early modern European expansion in the Old World. European colonies were actually quite weak, especially in East Asia.

Until recently, scholars have tended to view early modern European colonialism as more durable and influential than it really was, probably because they had in mind the Iberian colonization of the New World and the remarkable success of European imperialism after the mid-18th century. The Spanish conquest of the Americas was, on any kind of close examination, however, an absolute anomaly. And the reason for that is that it was facilitated and predicated almost entirely by disease. Outside of the Colombian exchange and the colonization of the New World, in places where native populations had inborn resistances to old world pathogens, territorial European colonies were fragile right up until the mid-18th century,

when European military and maritime technologies began to definitively surpass the rest of the world. In early modern Asia, where Europeans came into contact with the Chinese and Japanese, this weakness is actually particularly evident. The colony of Macau, for instance, existed only thanks to Chinese permission. If the Portuguese didn't behave themselves, an edict from the Chinese administrators in Guangzhou would have been enough to cut off food supplies to the port entirely. The small outposts that the Portuguese and Dutch were allowed to occupy in Nagasaki were similarly vulnerable. In fact, Dutch Formosa and the Spanish Philippines were the only territorial colonies that the Europeans

possessed in any real faculty in all of East Asia, and both were threatened during their early years by Chinese and Japanese competition. The Spanish colony nearly fell to a Chinese pirate named Lin Feng, the Dutch colony to Japanese competition. Both were similarly vulnerable to the Zheng family in the 1660s. Most explanations for European colonialism have tended to focus on how Europeans established their colonies, comparing Europeans and Asians' military technologies, economic organizations, and technological prowesses. But maybe it's better not to ask how, but rather why that happened. In an important but often neglected essay, M.N. Pearson argues that Europeans were unusual not in their capacities as colonizers, but in their very desire to colonize. Asian states tended to focus on overland expansion rather than overseas expansion,

leaving the oceans open to Europeans. His argument can be distilled into one very basic hypothesis, that is, states that gain the great majority of their revenue from agriculture tend to act differently from states that rely on trade for a significant portion of their revenues. According to Pearson, during the early modern period, most large Asian states belonged to the first category, that is, that they derived most of their revenue from agriculture, and therefore tended to be rather indifferent towards ocean-going trade. In contrast, Western European colonizing states belonged to the second category, and

therefore tended to focus on oceanic trade. Pearson's hypothesis appears pretty reasonable. Asian states do, in general, appear to have been less likely than European states to foster overseas aggression for commercial purposes, which left the Asian seas, ironically enough, more open to European control. Thus, Europeans were simply moving into a vacuum and taking control of it. How does Taiwan fit into this hypothesis? In one sense, the European colonization of Taiwan fits it pretty neatly, almost to a T. Whereas the states such as those of India were simply indifferent to overseas commerce,

China and Japan actively discouraged it. The Dutch and Spanish, therefore, were able to colonize Taiwan because of that lack of interest or active discouragement of maritime power. Yet, Taiwan's European colonies ultimately fell, to be replaced by a quote-unquote formal Chinese colony. What does that fall of European colonialism on Taiwan say about the status model? It turns out that the fate of European colonialism on Taiwan was directly dependent upon the degree of maritime orientation of governments in China and Japan. So long as they were uninterested in maritime adventurism, as they usually were, European colonialism flourished in Taiwan. Thus, when the Dutch established their colonies in the 1620s, there was no Chinese organization powerful or

even interested enough to prevent them from gaining control over the trading infrastructure that the Chinese traders had created on the island. Don't get me wrong, there was still plenty of resistance. Had the indigenous rebel groups over the first few decades of the 17th century been able to appeal to their home governments for help, maybe there might have been a more severe challenge mounted to Dutch suzerainty. But they didn't. The Chinese government, at all levels, was just overwhelmingly uninterested in the island. Japanese merchants who operated on Taiwan were more troublesome to the Dutch precisely because they didn't have any support within the Japanese government. When Suetsugu Hezo Masanao, the regent of Nagasaki, got angry

about Dutch interference in his trade on Taiwan, he arranged to close down Dutch trade all over Japan. Fortunately for the Dutch, he died in 1630. Even more luck for them was the Shogunal Edict of 1635 that forbade Japanese subjects to travel abroad full stop, period, whatsoever. As such, with Japan removed from colonial competition, the Dutch had basically a free hand in Taiwan, allowing them to focus their attention on the aborigines and also on the creation of a flourishing co-colonial system with Chinese immigrants. With no major East Asian power interested in Taiwan, the Dutch kind of had a playground to flourish. But by the 1650s, that was all beginning to change. The Zhenchanggang Koxinga government was emerging. It was quite unlike the Ming Dynasty that it nominally sought to restore, in that it was highly dependent on sea trade, which provided about two-thirds,

if not more, of its overall revenues. Cochinga State therefore competed with the Dutch in Southeast Asia and Japan and the waters all across there. And when the Dutch applied European rules, such as capturing interloping ships and stopping trade, it levied a devastating economic blockade on Taiwan, causing, as we've discussed here, the collapse of the entire colonial economy. When the Zheng state needed a new base, Taiwan was right there, and the Dutch could be rather quickly ousted and replaced. Recent studies also highlight a second phenomenon of European

colonialism, what historian John Wills Jr. calls, quote highlight a second phenomenon of European colonialism, what historian John Wills Jr. calls, quote, the interactive emergence of European dominance, end quote. In an influential survey, he shows that throughout Asia, Europeans depended closely on indigenous groups, usually merchants, to establish their colonies. In India, the Portuguese, Dutch, and British built their empires atop pre-existing trading structures, in a complex symbiosis mixed with contained conflict. In Southeast Asia, Dutch power was extended by means of alliances with certain narrative groups against others. In East Asia, Europeans established holdouts only with the aid of local merchants and officials, such as the Cantonese

officials who helped the Portuguese set up shop in Macau. Taiwan is a clear example of such interactive emergence. But it's also unusual, because the most important group of Asians who collaborated with the Europeans, that being of course the Chinese from Fujian, were not indigenous to Taiwan, but were themselves also colonizers. As we've seen, Taiwan presented significant obstacles to would-be homesteaders. The heavy investments needed to prepare its land for intensive agriculture, the activities of pirates, and most importantly, the opposition of the aborigines. The thousand or so Chinese who actually lived on Taiwan before the arrival of the

Dutch were unable or unwilling to make the administrative and military investments necessary to make Taiwan amenable to intensive agricultural colonization, and so the Dutch East India Company played their own part of colonial government. By offering free land, tax breaks, and other subventions, it enticed pioneers to cross the strait to Taiwan. By subjugating the aborigines, controlling pirates, enforcing contracts, and providing policing and civil governance, it made Taiwan a safe and calculable place to live and do business in. Without the Dutch East India Company, the Chinese colonization of Taiwan would have occurred much more slowly. Indeed, if at all. The company, in turn, was

dependent on those Chinese colonists, the quote-unquote only bees and formosa that give honey. They farmed the lands, they hunted the deer, they cut the wood, they made the mortar, they built the forts, they constructed the roads, they ran the ferries, and it was them who did the other myriad jobs that underpinned Taiwan's entire economic system. The taxes and license fees that they paid, from rice wine to head tax, constituted the vast majority of the colony's entire revenue. As such, this Sino-Dutch interdependence allowed the colony to prosper. To be sure, not all laborers and entrepreneurs were Chinese, but most were. Nor, as we've seen, were Chinese equal partners in this colonial endeavor. They participated only directly in its government, having no representatives in its highest deliberative body. Co-colonization was based not just on mutual interest, but also coercion. Dutch authorities tried to eliminate or at least co-opt organizations that they believed

to be their competitors, such as the pirates and smugglers who threatened its profits and undermined its authority. Settlers who followed the colony's rules could stand to make a lot of money, but they did have to give some of it to the Dutch East India Company. Others broke the rules and kept more for themselves, but they put themselves in a position of being liable to Dutch punishments. Perhaps Taiwan's co-colonization is not such an unusual case of interactive co-emergence. Because Chinese settlement coincided with European colonization in other areas as well, we can actually make points of comparison. Consider, for instance, the Spanish colony in the Philippines.

Fujinese had traded in the Philippines long before the arrival of the Spanish, bringing Chinese pottery, copper, and iron to exchange for Philippine gold, wax, and cotton. Indeed, just as the Dutch chose the Bay of Taiwan because it was a Chinese trading settlement already, so too the Spanish chose Manila in large part because they found 150 Chinese traders living there. Chinese traders soon became their lifeblood, providing food, clothing, sulfur, saltpeter, iron, you name it. In the 1580s, some 30 Chinese junks called there a year, 10 times as many as had called before the Spanish colony had been founded. In addition to food and supplies, they also began bringing amenities such as porcelain,

and even more importantly, silk. They also brought settlers. Manila's Chinese population statistics mirror Dutch Taiwan's. From a pre-Spanish figure of about 150, the Chinese population in Manila grew to around 4,000 as of 1589, to 15,000 in 1600, to 23,000 in 1603. Though many immigrants came to trade, most came to engage in other kind of work. Like their countrymen in Dutch Taiwan, they performed unskilled labor such as ditch digging, fieldwork, and road building, as well as skilled labor, such as bricklaying, furniture making, painting, carving, and pottery.

Taiwan stands out from most other European colonial projects in one key way. That is, that it is so close to China. Its Chinese colonists were in close contact with their families in Fujian. The Zheng regime therefore found it easy to keep tabs on the colony, and when Zheng Chenggong needed a new base, his choice was clear. When he invaded in 1661, he had already prepared the way. Thousands of Chinese settlers helped his men ashore. Sino-Dutch co-colonization had created a Chinese colony on Taiwan,

but the company could not be sure of its colonists' loyalty. Once Zheng presented a compelling alternative, the Dutch could not maintain their hold over the bees of Formosa. With the Zheng invasion, Taiwan gained its first, nominally, Chinese government. But the route to becoming Chinese was far from over. The Zheng regime, after all, lasted only until 1683, when a Qing invasion force, led by one of Zheng's own former generals, Admiral Shi Long, successfully occupied Taiwan. When the Emperor of China heard about this victory, he said, Taiwan is no bigger than a ball of mud. We gain nothing by possessing it, and it would be no loss if we did not acquire it.

End quote. He wanted to remove Chinese settlers and abandon the island, a proposal that actually most of his officials supported. According to scholar Emma Tsang, officials were reluctant to incorporate Taiwan into China because of a deep-seated traditional idea that China was bounded by the seas. So powerful was this idea that some pre-Qing maps represent China's southern land borders as stylized ocean water. So even though Taiwan lay only 150 kilometers from mainland China, it was described in Ming and early Qing texts as, quote, hanging alone beyond the seas, end quote, and, quote, far off the edge of the oceans, end quote.

But General Shulong argued forcefully for Taiwan's inclusion in the Qing Empire. The island could not be left to its own devices because it would be put to use by pirates and foreign powers who were drooling over it. It was, moreover, a bounteous place, quote, fish and salt spout forth from the sea. The mountains are filled with dense forests of tall trees and thick bamboo. There are sulfur, rattan, sugarcane, deerskins, and all that is needed for daily living. Nothing is lacking. It is truly a bountiful, fertile piece of land and a strategic territory, end quote. Thanks to Shilong's arguments, the emperor decided to make Taiwan a prefecture attached to Fujian province. Even so, Taiwan was incorporated into China only slowly.

The Qing were reluctant colonizers, which is, come to think of it, rather ironic in itself. By the 18th century, and even into the first half of the 19th, the western coast of Taiwan came to be called by many the Granary of China, but the mountains and east coast remained off the map. Terra incognita. By the second half of the 19th century, Taiwan began to export items produced in the mountains, such as camphor and Ti, and the formerly off-the-map areas began to receive somewhat more attention. At the same time, the western powers in Japan began poking around the off-the-map areas, prompting China's rulers to try to integrate all of Taiwan at once. Yet even during this, its stage of fullest integration, Taiwan was still considered an outlying and peripheral

part of China. It was, ironically, only after Taiwan was ceded to Japan after the Sino-Japanese War of 1894-95 that the island would be reimagined into an essential part of China. And that is where we will leave off today. Next time, with our sojourn to the lonely island of Taiwan finally completed, we will head on back to the mainland and check in on how things are going in Qing China in the 1640s and beyond. Thanks for listening. This was The Age of Napoleon. I'm Everett Rummage, host of The Age of Napoleon podcast. Join me as I examine the life and times of one of the most fascinating and enigmatic characters in modern history. Look for The Age of Napoleon wherever you find your podcasts.