Little is known of this poor man who was captured and tortured by the Chinese in the China War of 1860. The regimental history gives this story of his final days in Peking:
The hostages whom the Chinese had seized around Chang-Kia-Wan had been abominably treated. Now that the Allies were before Peking, the Chinese began to release some of the survivors, who reported their treatment. Private Phipps of the King’s Dragoon Guards, one of the escort, had been seized, and on arrival in Peking he was paraded through the streets and then taken to the Summer Palace. He was thrown onto his face, and his hands and feet were tied together behind him; the ropes were pulled as tight as possible, and then soaked in water to make them shrink further. He and the others were placed in a kneeling position and kicked over onto their backs. If they tried to move they were beaten and forced back so that all their weight rested on their bound hands, which, with the circulation being cut off, soon became swollen and black. They were then carried into a courtyard, with a Chinese soldier allotted to each prisoner, where they were left exposed to the sun and rain for three days and nights without any food or water. If they moved they were kicked and beaten. When they pleaded for food, dirt was forced into their mouths and they were kicked about the head. At the end of the third day, a little food was handed out, and irons were placed on their hands and feet.
On the afternoon of the fourth day, the prisoners were split up into four parties, Private Phipps being taken in a cart with Bowlby, the Times correspondent, a French officer and four Sikhs. Phipps spoke a little Hindustani, but the Sikhs spoke no English; however, two of the Sikh sowars survived and testified:
‘Another cart with us containing Daffadar Mahomed Bux, a French officer, very tall and stout, with a brown beard, and a Dragoon named Pisa (Phipps). We were taken into the fort, and for three days were out in the open and in the cold. They then pulled us into an old kitchen and kept us there for three or four days. Mr Bowlby died the second day, after we arrived. The next day the Frenchman died. Two days after Jawalla Singh died. Four days afterwards Phipps, King’s Dragoon Guards, died; for ten days he encouraged us in every way he could.’
On 14 October a cart brought the coffins of the dead prisoners. They were found to be in such a dreadful state of decomposition that not a feature was recognisable, and it was only by the tattered garments that the doctors made them out to be the remains of eleven dead prisoners, including Private John Phipps. Garnet Wolseley wrote:
‘Up to the day of his death, he [Phipps] never lost heart, and always endeavoured to cheer up those about him when any complained or bemoaned their cruel fate. Even to his last moment of consciousness he tried to encourage them with words of hope and comfort. All honour to his memory.’’
