A CHAIN OF INCIDENTS.
I. DISPUTE WITH RUSSIA _RE_ KULDJA.
Insurrection in Kashgaria--Russia occupies Kuldja--Engaging to
evacuate when country settled--Tso Tsung-tang's march--Death
of Yakub-beg--China reoccupies Kashgaria--Calls upon Russia
to retire from Kuldja--Relations become strained--Chunghou
concludes treaty with Russia--Violently repudiated by empress--War
threatened--Gordon summoned--Dispute arranged by Marquis Tsêng.
The dilatoriness of China in making a stand against Japanese pretensions
in Korea may be partly explained by her serious preoccupations elsewhere.
She had been immersed in a sea of troubles. She seemed to be enveloped in
rebellion. In the south-west the province of Yunnan had been severed from
the imperial rule, and in its recovery the land was almost depopulated.
In the north-west there were also Mohammedan risings, and in far-distant
Kashgaria, separated from China by a thousand miles of desert and
militarily untenable by her, the adventurer known as Yakub-beg set up
an independent government, which he maintained for some years. Anarchy
on her frontier afforded to Russia the pretext of occupying Chinese
territory to maintain order; but she was scrupulous in assuring the Peking
Government that this step was provisional, and that she was ready to
restore Kuldja as soon as the Chinese were again in a position to resume
the government of the town and territory. The time came sooner than was
expected. The famous march of Tso Tsung-tang, who halted to grow grain
for the support of his army, and the disaffection in his camp leading to
the demise of Yakub, enabled China to reoccupy the revolted districts.
Russia, on being asked to redeem her pledge as to Kuldja, made conditions
which were not acceptable, and a diplomatic campaign was entered upon.
A high Manchu official, Chunghou, the same who had been sent to France
in 1871, was despatched to Prussia, where he concluded the treaty of
Livadia, which was so repugnant to the empress-regent and her advisers
that not only was it repudiated at Peking, but the envoy was delivered
to the Board of Punishments. Relations became strained between Russia
and China, and on both sides there were hints of a resort to force. In
view of this eventuality the Chinese Government were recommended to apply
for the services of their old champion, Gordon, who, unknown to them,
had taken service with Lord Ripon, the then new Viceroy of India, and,
equally unknown to them, had precipitately resigned that service. The
Chinese had a large body of troops in Manchuria; the long line of Russian
communication was very weak along that frontier; the governor of Eastern
Siberia, declaring himself unable to resist a Chinese attack, had urged
the Government at St Petersburg to come to terms at once with China, and
wait for a suitable opportunity to recover what they might be obliged
to cede. The Chinese Government hoped that if Gordon would come to their
assistance, and take command of their Manchurian levies, his name would
be a host in itself, and his appearance on the scene would at any rate
convince the Russian Government that China was in earnest. With this view
an invitation was sent to General Gordon in a telegram from Sir Robert
Hart, which found him in Bombay. The invitation was unconditional; it
indicated no purpose and named no price. Gordon took it entirely on trust,
closed at once, and proceeded to China. Having been given no clue as to
what service was expected from him, Gordon, nevertheless, not only came
to a conclusion of his own on the subject, but supplied his views to the
newspapers before leaving India, and at every port of call on the route.
He declared he was going to China to induce her to make peace, for she
was unable to do otherwise. In this he was of an opposite opinion from
the Russian governor-general. But whatever the merit of his opinion, the
object of the Chinese in sending for him was of course frustrated by his
published declarations. These being communicated to the Government at
Peking, they saw that so far from stiffening them in their negotiations
with Russia, Gordon's presence would seriously embarrass them, and they
accordingly endeavoured to prevent his coming. Through Sir Robert Hart
they sent a message to meet Gordon at Chefoo, requesting him to proceed no
farther. Disregarding this request, he continued his journey to Tientsin,
where he had interviews with his old friend the Viceroy Li; and he also
made his way to Peking, where by the aid of an indifferent Cantonese
interpreter he made representations to the Tsungli-Yamên, some of which
the interpreter dared not reproduce in Chinese. Gordon left without seeing
either Sir Robert Hart, on whose authority alone he had come to China,
or the British Minister, Sir Thomas Wade. The advice he left with the
Chinese Ministers was to renounce the endeavour to organise an army on
Western models, and not to waste money on modern weapons, but to trust
rather to numbers and the Fabian strategy which was natural to them. This
being promptly published in foreign journals, was regarded as highly
paradoxical, if not cynical; but it was recalled to mind fifteen years
later, when China was being defeated in the pitched battles against which
Gordon had warned them.
The Kuldja dispute was eventually disposed of by the Chinese Minister,
Marquis Tsêng, who negotiated a treaty at St Petersburg, by which the
territory was nominally receded to China, while its strategical positions
were retained in the occupation of Russia, thus rendering the whole region
untenable by Chinese troops.
II. KOREAN IMBROGLIO, 1882-1885.
Outbreak in 1882--Conspiracy of the king's father--Attack on
Japanese legation--Chinese troops control the capital--Foreign
innovations--Brought bad elements to the surface--Conspiracy
in 1884--Assassinations--Treachery of king's confidant--Kim
Ok Kun's escape to Japan--The avenger--His elaborate
preparations--Assassination of Kim--Joy in the Korean
Court--Honours to the assassin--Japan dissatisfied--Count Ito's
mission--Japan secures equal rights with China in Korea.
The Russian question settled, China had leisure to attend to Korean
affairs, of which the importance was becoming more and more clear to her
statesmen. The scare on the north-west was in another form transferred
to the north-east, where there was the double risk of complications
arising from both Russian and Japanese encroachment on Korea. The opening
of the country to foreign intercourse, intended as a protection against
such dangers, was soon discovered to be inadequate. A procession of
events, dating from the signing of the treaties and culminating in 1885,
transformed the kingdom from a vassal to a quasi-independent State.
The first link in the chain, so far as visible effects were concerned,
was an _émeute_ which took place in Söul in 1882. The father of the
king had occupied a position as regent curiously resembling that of the
Empress-Dowager of China, and being ambitious to regain the authority
which he had laid down on the king's coming of age, raised a conspiracy
to depose him. In connection with the plot a mob was let loose on the
Japanese legation, where a desperate struggle ensued, in which, and
in the running fight which they made towards the seaport, a number of
Japanese were killed. The survivors were conveyed to Nagasaki in a British
ship-of-war. What provocation the Japanese had given for this savage
onslaught is not a matter on which we need enter. The point is that it
afforded justification for sharp reprisals. Perceiving this, and being in
a position of unaccustomed preparedness, the Chinese Government--that is
to say, Li Hung-chang--adopted prompt measures for anticipating action
on the part of the Japanese. They despatched an envoy with a body of
troops and a naval squadron to the seaport of the capital where they at
once put down the conspiracy, re-established the king's authority, and by
a clever but wonderfully common oriental ruse captured the Usurper, and
carried him off to China as a State prisoner. The Chinese troops remained
in the vicinity of the capital, and a Resident on the Indian pattern was
installed at the Korean Court.
Before long a foreign element began to be introduced into the Korean
administration. Among other things a branch of the Chinese customs service
was established, and, as in China, many duties besides that of raising a
revenue soon claimed the attention of the foreign commissioner. No more
effective first step in the regeneration of such a country could have
been undertaken than an honest administration of its maritime revenue. It
was a measure both good in itself and prolific of beneficial results in
many directions. Other reforms, however, were projected which required
a certain preparation of the soil and a careful consideration of social
forces and conditions. The introduction of foreign ideas of any kind into
a country which, so far as politics were concerned, might be considered
virgin soil, was, to say the least, a hazardous experiment. Undigested
schemes for the Europeanisation or the Japonisation of a Government which
had up till then banished foreign intercourse entirely from its shores
was likely to have an effect analogous to that of suddenly administering
strong meat to the victim of protracted privation. Korean affairs were
even less understood by foreigners than Western affairs were by the
Koreans, so that the yeast thrown into the Korean dough produced risings
for which Western foreigners at least, whatever may be said of the
Japanese, were quite unprepared. Factions sprang up like fungoid growths
in an excavation, sordid ambitions were set in motion, and the royal Court
became a hotbed of intrigue towards which the most flagitious elements in
the capital were naturally drawn.
The agitation which was fed from these various sources broke out into
open violence in 1884, when two of the king's Ministers were assassinated
by a band of conspirators. It would be futile to attempt to unravel the
plot; its visible consequences only need be considered as further links in
the chain of events, and also as affording some curious evidence of the
manner in which the new alien civilisation was beginning to adapt itself
to that which was ingrained in the Korean character. The professed object
of the plot was understood to be the severance of the Chinese tie through
the instrumentality of the Japanese, and the king himself was believed
to be privy to this scheme. It is probable that the high political and
patriotic ideal was but the rallying flag under which diverse schemers
might pursue their several ambitions. The Koreans are credited with a
special dose of the subtlety which belongs to Asiatic races, and whatever
the real intentions of the king may have been, the conspirators were false
to him. A concise contemporary account of the fray given in a message to
the 'Times' states that--
The rising against the King of Korea is the outcome of reactionary
intrigues similar to the movement in 1882, when the present
king's father was captured and taken as a State prisoner to
China. Defective accounts only have been received of the recent
events. On the night of December 4, during an entertainment,
there was an alarm of fire near the palace; Min chong ik, the
queen's nephew, who was recently travelling in Europe, rushed
out, met some assassins, and was stabbed, with many others. The
conspirators then attacked the king, who applied to the Japanese
Minister for the protection of his guard. Before morning six of
the Ministers were killed. On the 6th the Koreans again attacked
the palace, the Chinese troops being present. A fight ensued, and
the Japanese guard lost three men killed and five wounded. Being
overpowered, the Japanese abandoned the palace, retiring to the
Japanese Legation, the king being carried off by the Chinese. The
tumult increased, and thirty Japanese residents were massacred
by the Chinese. On the 7th the Korean mob attacked the Japanese
Legation, which was destroyed, and the Minister with his guard
forced his way out amid showers of missiles. They stormed the
gates and retreated to the seaport of Chemulpo. On the following
day the king sent friendly messages to the Japanese Minister.
At a recent date the Chinese garrison consisted nominally of 3000
men, but the force has been much depleted. The Japanese numbered
120, and these were about to be withdrawn when the outbreak
occurred. The situation is critical, each side accusing the other
of aggression; but it is expected that the affair will be settled
amicably, neither Power desiring a quarrel for the benefit of
interested spectators. The Japanese may insist on steps being
taken to secure their Minister for the future from such outrages.
Each Power has appointed an officer to investigate the facts
before deciding on a definite course. Further complications are,
however, certain to arise from the anomalous position of Korea.
After the Kuldja scare China perceived the supreme strategic
importance of the peninsula, and that a great Power occupying it
would control Chinese external policy. The Government promoted
the foreign treaties in 1882 with the objects of interesting the
commercial Powers in the integrity of Korea, and of obtaining a
recognition of its vassalage. Later treaties, beginning with that
negotiated by Sir Harry Parkes last year, assumed the independence
of Korea. The exercise of Chinese sovereignty is exposing Korea
to the double peril of her own troubles and of China's possible
wavering at a critical moment. The Chinese and Korean interests
are, in the absence of commerce, purely political, Korea's
importance consisting in its commanding position.
And the Japanese shortly after tabulated the casualties as follows:--
Seven officials killed by progressives, 7 progressives killed
by Korean troops, 38 Korean soldiers killed by Japanese troops,
95 rioters killed by Japanese, 67 progressives imprisoned, 11
beheaded, with shocking barbarities at execution.
The immediate purpose of the leaders of the plot appears to have been to
destroy the influence of the powerful family to which the queen belonged,
and had they contented themselves with the murder of any number of that
family, it was not considered likely that either king or people would have
greatly deplored the crime. But the chief assassin, Kim Ok Kun, struck at
the two Ministers who were the king's right hand, and who had, moreover,
endeared themselves to the nation by the exceptional purity of their
public life and their beneficence in times of scarcity. Execrated alike
by the sovereign and his people, Kim Ok Kun sought an asylum in Japan,
where he was entertained for a number of years while engaged in hatching
further plots against the peace of his native land.
Naturally his presence in Japan caused umbrage to China. The King of Korea
lived in terror of his machinations, for Kim had a considerable following,
by whose aid he hoped to make a descent on Korea and effect a revolution
in the government. The guilt of Kim Ok Kun's betrayal of his sovereign was
the more heinous from his having been confidential adviser to the Crown
during all the negotiations with foreigners, between whom and the king
he was the constant referee. He carried into exile the innermost royal
secrets. The king's resentment against Kim was naturally embittered by
his impotence to avenge the treachery to which he had been a victim.
For the preservation of peace and of friendly relations an agreement
was entered into between the three Governments to the effect that Kim
should not be permitted to leave Japan for any other country excepting
China or the United States. On these conditions the refugee became an
embarrassment to the Government of Japan, which felt bound to protect him
against counterplots while preventing him from carrying out his seditious
designs. Nevertheless Nemesis was on the track of the assassin, and the
way in which the quarry was hunted down by the avenger of blood affords
a greater insight into the nature of the tragedy than do any of the
contemporary comments. It also serves to illustrate certain points in the
Korean character which are decidedly not without interest to students of
current history.
A member of an important Korean family named Hong had been implicated
in Kim's conspiracy, and by Korean law his whole family were held guilty
of the treason. The king fully exonerated the head of the family, being
convinced that no blame attached to him personally. Nevertheless, the old
man was so dejected by the disgrace brought on his name, that he forthwith
poisoned himself with his whole house. A young man distantly connected
with the family of Hong, and bearing their surname, took upon himself the
duty of avenging these deaths, and set to work in a systematic manner to
compass the murder of Kim. The private vengeance of Hong-tjyong-on fitted
in well with his patriotic duty, and his scheme was favoured by the Korean
king. About three years after Kim's flight, Hong made his way to Japan,
bearing secret letters from the king outlawing Kim and his followers and
authorising their capture or assassination. Hong's plan was to ingratiate
himself with Kim as a supporter of his schemes, but his recent arrival
direct from Korea without any credentials from the revolutionary party in
that country rendered Kim suspicious of the would-be recruit. Unable to
gain the access which he required to the person of his victim, Hong saw
that he would have to adopt more elaborate means to effect his purpose. He
went therefore to Europe, where he must have spent five or six years at
least in acquiring a European education, European manners, and a perfect
knowledge of European ways. He was courteous, refined, and intelligent,
a great favourite in society (especially in religious circles), and made
in particular many warm friends in France. Having thoroughly shaken off
Korea, he thought he might now present himself in Japan in a character
that would disarm all suspicion. Accordingly he made his way thither, and
succeeded in attaching himself to Kim, talked progress and revolution, and
thereby insinuated himself into the confidence of the arch-conspirator,
becoming gradually master of his secret plots and schemes. The
arrangements of the Japanese Government for the protection of Kim's person
seem to have been so efficient that, in order to accomplish his purpose,
Hong perceived that it was necessary to induce Kim to leave Japan. This
seemed the most difficult part of his enterprise, and a far-fetched scheme
had to be contrived in order to furnish Kim with a plausible reason for
proceeding to China. Between the plots which Kim may have had in his mind
and those which Hong for his own purposes suggested to him, it is not
possible, neither is it necessary, to distinguish. Hong's own account of
the matter was, that Kim had been concerting some movement on Korea from
a Russian base, but was prevented from proceeding to Vladivostock by the
vigilance of the Japanese Government. The agreement between the three
Powers would not, however, be violated by his proceeding to Shanghai,
where he would find the means of continuing his voyage to Vladivostock,
for neither of the travellers apprehended any difficulty in eluding the
surveillance of the Chinese officials and taking passage in a trading
steamer to the Russian port.
Kim eventually fell in with this proposal, and left Japan with a Japanese
servant, accompanied by Hong. They arrived in Shanghai on the 27th of
March 1894, repaired to a Japanese hotel, and reported themselves at the
Japanese consulate. The following day Hong, having first put on Korean
upper garments, murdered Kim, and fled, but was captured at Wusung by the
foreign municipal police of Shanghai, and by them detained in custody
until claimed by the Chinese authorities under instructions from Li
Hung-chang. The news of the assassination was received by the Chinese
Government with a sense of relief and "sombre acquiescence," but at the
Korean Court with almost a frenzy of delight. The king gave a banquet in
honour of the event, to which he invited all the foreign Ministers. The
Chinese Government ordered a man-of-war to convey the murderer and the
remains of the victim to Korea. The former was covered with honours, while
the remains of Kim were treated with savage indecency and his family put
to death.
Thus did the assassin of 1884 expiate his crime exactly ten years later.
The issue of the plot of 1884 was not agreeable to the Japanese, who were
particularly affronted by the fact that the Chinese were in a position to
snatch the king out of their hands and to afford him military protection
against all comers. But Japan was in no humour to relinquish her own
policy in Korea, which was quite incompatible with the suzerain status
of China, and with the very concrete form in which it had just been
manifested. One of the leading statesmen of Japan, Count Inouye, was sent
to Korea to investigate the whole affair, and inquire into the relative
position of China and Japan in the peninsula. The result of his inquiries
was a determination to follow up by orthodox diplomacy the disintegrating
effects which the risings in 1882 and 1884 had no doubt been intended
to subserve. China being in the throes of a war with France, the moment
was particularly favourable for preferring demands upon her. An embassy
was therefore despatched to Peking, under Count Ito, in March 1885. He
counted much on the friendly offices of the British Minister, Sir Harry
Parkes, in smoothing the way to amicable negotiations with China, but
unhappily the Japanese ambassador arrived at Peking almost on the day of
Sir Harry's death. After vain attempts to deal with the Tsungli-Yamên the
Japanese mission withdrew to Tientsin, where negotiations were entered
into by Li Hung-chang, extending over several weeks. Count Ito's mission
was successful in concluding a treaty by which China and Japan were put
on a footing of equality in the peninsula so far as regards military
protection. The troops of both countries were to be withdrawn, and neither
party was to send a force in future without giving written notice to the
other. This arrangement was a surrender in substance of China's suzerainty
over Korea, though she retained the ceremonial form in full vigour for
nine years after.
III. THE PORT HAMILTON EPISODE, 1885-1887.
Sudden occupation of Korean harbour by Great Britain--Questioned
by China, Japan, and Korea--Position condemned by naval
authority--Abandoned on guarantee from China against occupation
by other Powers.
"In view of potentialities" the British Government on April 14, 1885,
sent instructions to Vice-Admiral Dowell to occupy Port Hamilton, an
island harbour on the coast of Korea. This high-handed proceeding was
justified on the plea of necessity--the necessity, as explained by Lord
Granville, of anticipating the "probable occupation of the island by
another Power." Naturally the measure disturbed neighbouring States,
as well as the Government of Korea itself. China and Japan asked for
explanations, and an agreement with the former, as suzerain of Korea, was
about to be signed for the temporary use of the harbour by Great Britain,
when the Russian Minister at Peking interposed with an intimation that
if China consented to the occupation of Port Hamilton by Great Britain,
Russia would compensate herself by the seizure of some other point of the
Korean littoral. The protest of the Korean Government thus became merged
in negotiations with China, but was never withdrawn.
While these _pour-parlers_ were going on, the position of Port Hamilton
was unequivocally condemned as a naval station by a succession of three
admirals commanding the China Squadron; and as the immediate occasion
of the occupation of the harbour had happily passed, there remained
no ostensible reason for prolonging it. Before abandoning the island,
however, the British Government hoped that some arrangement might be
come to for an international guarantee of the integrity of Korea, which
being already a bone of contention between certain Powers, and unable
to defend its own independence, constituted a constant menace to the
peace of the Far East. The proposal met with no favour from the Chinese
Government, for the reason probably that it would have involved an organic
change in its own relations with Korea. The next proposal came from the
Korean Government itself, which suggested a _modus vivendi_ by opening
as treaty ports both Port Hamilton and Port Lazareff, which latter was
the point Russia would have seized if she had seized anything. This
idea was approved of by the British Government, but nothing came of it.
Eventually the evacuation was agreed to on the assurance from China that
neither Port Hamilton nor any other portion of Korean territory would in
future be occupied by any other Power. This pledge China was enabled to
give on the strength of an equivalent guarantee which she had received
from Russia, that Power being then the only one considered as likely to
cherish aggressive designs on the Korean peninsula. These engagements were
exchanged in November 1886, eighteen months after the occupation, and the
British flag was finally hauled down on the island on February 27, 1887.
The net visible result of the incident was to confirm China in her
suzerainty, since the negotiations were made with her and not with Korea,
and to obtain a specific pledge from Russia that she would keep her hands
off Korea "under any circumstances." It was argued seven years afterwards
that Russia had broken her pledge by her interferences in Korean affairs,
but in 1895 a new state of circumstances had been brought about. China in
that year ceased to be the suzerain of Korea, and obligations which were
valid under the old _régime_ necessarily lapsed. A new page of history was
turned, and Korea attained the status of a nominally independent kingdom.
IV. TIBET.
Lhassa visited by Babu Sarat Chandra Das--Proposed commercial
expedition--Originated by Secretary of State--Envoy sent to
Peking to obtain passport--Opposition organised by Chinese and
Tibetans--Mission withdrawn.
The year 1885 witnessed the first act in the ill-advised policy--as to its
method, not its object--of the Indian Government of opening commercial
relations with Tibet. A learned Bengali pandit, versed in Tibetan, had
made two successful visits to Lhassa, where he gained the friendship
of the lamas, who invited him to come again. A fair prospect of opening
commercial relations by gradually disarming prejudices and apprehension
was thus presented. Having duly reported his experiences to the Government
of India, the babu waited their pleasure as to further developments at
Darjeeling, where he occupied the post of Government schoolmaster. An
English civilian, making the acquaintance of the babu in that hot-weather
retreat, conceived the idea of an official mission to Lhassa, in which
the services of the babu might be utilised as guide and interpreter. The
Indian Government was averse from the enterprise on economical if on no
other grounds, but direct pressure being brought to bear on the India
Office in London, the ambitious young statesman who then presided over its
counsels is said to have espoused the proposal and overruled the reluctant
Government of India.
Of the organisation and procedure of the mission nothing very
complimentary can be said. Instead of following the line of least
resistance, of driving in the thin end of the wedge, in accordance with
the commonplace maxims consecrated by all human experience, the reverse
process was followed in every single particular. Sarat Chandra Das had
shown the way, and the entry he had effected could have been gradually
widened by himself and others of his own class until the obstacles to free
commercial intercourse had been overcome. The experience of a hundred
years had shown to the world the invincible prejudices of the Tibetan
rulers against foreign visitors. The babu had in his own person conquered
these prejudices by his mastery of Buddhistic lore, as well as by his
gentleness and consummate tact; but the mission, which had its origin
in the information he supplied, discarded his methods and proceeded on
military lines. Its _personnel_ included politicals and scientists, but
no commercial agent, and as Mr Gundry has well said, "The Under Secretary
of State, while stating that the object of the mission was to confer with
the Chinese commissioners and the Lhassa Government as to the resumption
of commercial relations between India and Tibet," added in Parliament
that, "looking to the delicate nature of the mission, it had not been
thought advisable to appoint a special commercial representative." An
armed force of some 300 men sent on a "delicate mission" which, though
essentially commercial, yet had nothing commercial in its composition!
Could anything be conceived more certain to arouse the sleeping suspicions
of the Tibetans? It was but repeating on a larger scale the deplorable
fiasco of Colonel Browne's attempted march from Burma to China in 1875.
The first act in this little drama was performed in Peking when the envoy,
Macaulay, arrived with his staff for the ostensible purpose of applying
for a passport for Tibet. For such a purpose there was no need to have
sent a special messenger to Peking at all, as a passport could have been
much more easily obtained by the British Minister there and transmitted
by post in the ordinary course of business. The passport could not, of
course, be refused in plain terms by the Chinese Government, but the
personal demand for it gave them the opportunity of cross-examining the
intended envoy as to the objects of his proposed mission. It may well
be believed, from the self-contradictory explanation of the mission
tendered to the British Parliament, that the envoy in Peking failed to
allay the suspicions of the Chinese Government. On the contrary, his
presence intensified them exceedingly. The sole effect of the preliminary
expedition to Peking was, in fact, to forewarn the Chinese Government,
so that they, in concert with the rulers of Tibet, should be prepared to
interpose obstacles to the advance of the mission, but in such a way as
not openly to compromise the good faith of the Chinese Government. The
journey of the envoy to Peking, therefore, sealed the fate of his own
mission, and at the same time closed Tibet against more judicious advances
in the future.
The most interesting episode in connection with this abortive effort
was the appearance of the Babu Sarat Chandra Das himself in the Chinese
capital. By sheer force of intellect he succeeded in a few days in
obtaining the confidence of the inner circle of the lamas there. Having
been brought in contact with a certain Manchu official, the pandit
showed very unobtrusively a familiarity with the more recondite tenets of
Buddhism which captivated the Manchu, whose heart was set on improving
his knowledge of the sacred mysteries.[24] The babu could speak no
Chinese, but it was not difficult among the thousands of lamas in Peking
to find a competent Tibetan interpreter. The fame of the pandit spread
rapidly among the ranks of the priesthood, whose chiefs competed for the
honour of sitting at the feet of the Indian Gamaliel. In expounding the
doctrines, while enjoying the hospitality, of different groups of lamas,
the popularity of the pandit grew from day to day, until he was at length
constrained to take up his quarters at the great Yellow Temple, outside
the north wall of Peking, and live with the brethren. They invested him
with the yellow robe and the other ecclesiastical insignia, and treated
him altogether as one of the initiated. It required all his acumen to
prevent his status as a Buddhist lama from clashing with his position as
a subordinate of the Indian envoy, on whom he was in attendance. He had
to pay frequent visits to the British Legation, where it would have been
impossible for him to appear in his religious vestments without exciting
inconvenient gossip, and perhaps incurring the disapproval of his superior
officer. The custom of travelling in Peking in closed carts enabled the
babu to play the double part of Jekyll and Hyde with perfect success.
He would leave the Temple as a lama, drive to a friend's rooms in the
city, where his Indian costume was kept ready, in which he proceeded in
another cab and in another character to the British Legation, returning
to reassume his yellow robes and then repair to the Temple.
During the time when the envoy designate remained in Peking a very high
personage arrived from Tibet, and it was on his conferences with the
Chinese Court that the success of the intended mission depended. It would
be presumptuous on the part of any foreigner to attempt to divine what
passed between the delegate from the Grand Lama and the Chinese Ministers;
but were it possible for any one to penetrate into those secret counsels,
the babu was the man to do it. There is no doubt that he did. In fact,
he had positive information that the Indian mission to Tibet would be
stopped at the instance of the Chinese Government, and that the issue
of the passport was an empty form. Such information would naturally be
unwelcome to the envoy, and the sequel seems to show that the warning
was disregarded. The expedition was organised, fully equipped, ready
for a march into Tibet. Had it proceeded it is highly improbable that
the babu would have accompanied it as interpreter, for he could not have
exonerated himself from the imputation of bad faith towards his Tibetan
hosts in acting as guide to an armed force into a country where he had
been received and reinvited as a private guest.
What would have been the consequence of the mission proceeding into Tibet
it is, of course, impossible to say, but the circumstances of its recall
were not conducive to satisfactory relations between China and Great
Britain. Mistrusting the effectiveness of the Tibetan opposition to the
Indian mission--for the force could very likely have made good its passage
to Lhassa--the Chinese Government resorted to diplomatic means of stopping
its advance. Its never-failing emergency man, the Inspector-General of
Customs, was called upon, and he intervened with the British Government
with such good effect that they sent orders to India to stop the Tibetan
mission. Thus the Indian Government was a second time overruled: first,
in being made to organise the mission against its will; and secondly, in
being forced to recall it when its recall involved immeasurable loss of
influence in future dealings with China. An attempt was made to cover the
retreat in a cloud of verbiage by a convention signed at Peking in 1886,
which, however, only made the case worse, in that it was a retrograde
step, virtually cancelling the right of visiting Tibet, which had been
conferred by the Chefoo convention of ten years before. The same treaty
which embodied this renunciation, perhaps the weakest to which any British
representative ever set his name, also fostered the illusions which have
been so detrimental to the welfare of China, by promising a continuance of
the tribute missions from Burma after that country had become an integral
part of the Indian Empire.
The fruits of this diplomatic surrender were not long in showing
themselves, for it was soon followed by an invasion of British Sikkim
from the Tibetan side. This aggression of the lamas was of necessity
resisted by the Indian Government, and an unexpected opportunity was
thus offered to them of settling the whole Tibetan question by the rapid
march of a small force to Lhassa. There is good reason to believe that
this solution of the difficulty was the one which commended itself to the
practical statesmen and soldiers of India; but their action was paralysed
by the orders of the Home Government, which continued to be ruled by
influences which were neither military nor political nor practical.
Discussions between the Indian Government and the Chinese _amban_ or
Resident at Lhassa, professing to speak for the Tibetan Lama Government,
were protracted year after year, and seemed interminable. At last even
the Chinese themselves grew weary of the comedy, and experienced in Tibet
something of the difficulty which occasionally beset them in China--that
is to say, they were unable to exorcise the demon they had invoked. They
had stirred up the Tibetans to the point of obstructing the Macaulay
mission, but seemed really to lose control of the force after it had been
set in motion. After some years of futile talk the statesmen of China
would perhaps have hailed with satisfaction the advance of a British force
to Lhassa to cut the Gordian knot; but they dared not, of course, give
such a hint as was conveyed to Captain Fournier, "Avancez donc,"[25] and
the Indian Government, not having the wit to divine it, had to submit to
a long-drawn-out and permanent humiliation, that was in no wise mended
by the Calcutta convention of 1890, which, professing only to settle the
existing frontiers, did not even settle them.
V. THE CRUISE OF THE SEVENTH PRINCE, 1886.
Character and position of Prince Ch'un--Had been misunderstood by
foreigners while he was in seclusion--An amiable and progressive
man--His visit to Port Arthur in 1886--Intercourse with many
foreigners.
The spring of 1884 witnessed a ministerial crisis of the first order
in Peking. For twenty-four years Prince Kung, uncle to the deceased
emperor Tungchih, had held a position equivalent to Chancellor of the
empire. To the outside world he was only known as Minister for Foreign
Affairs and head of the Tsungli-Yamên. During the greater part of the
time he had been at feud with the empress-regent, from whom his power
was derived, but, being indispensable to her, he was tolerated for want
of a competent successor. The troubles in Tongking caused an agitation
in the capital, and the empress seized the opportunity to dismiss Prince
Kung with most of his colleagues of the Yamên and introduce a fresh set.
The eminent position of the prince, however, was one difficult to fill;
but the substitution was effected by a kind of _coup d'état_ by which the
empress brought the younger brother of Prince Kung out of his retirement
and made him virtually, as far as it was possible, her coadjutor in the
Government. But the peculiar status of Prince Ch'un, as father to the
reigning emperor, rendered him immune from responsibility, since in China
the son could not place the father under discipline. For this reason the
prince could not in his own name exercise any of the great functions of
the State. He was therefore obliged to keep in the background, while the
executive service was performed by his nominees. Thus in foreign affairs
he was efficiently represented by the Grand Secretary Li Hung-chang, and
by Prince Ch'ing, a junior member of the imperial family, who was made
president of the Tsungli-Yamên, and holds the office to the present day.
Whatever the true motives may have been for recasting the
Tsungli-Yamên--and it would be hazardous for any foreigner to dogmatise
about such matters--a great improvement was remarked in the efficiency of
that body. Prince Ch'ing, though new to public affairs, acquitted himself
like a gentleman, and gained the goodwill of all the foreign Legations by
his laborious efforts to learn his work and to bring justice and reason
as well as courtesy into the transaction of business. The circumstances
of the time were also favourable to improvement; for being at war with
one great Power, China was naturally most anxious to conciliate the
others. While this amenable temper lasted, business was despatched by
the Tsungli-Yamên with a celerity never before known, and good use was
made of the opportunity to clear off legacies of arrears that had been
accumulating in the foreign legations.
The Seventh Prince, so long as he was in seclusion, had stood in the
opinion of foreigners for everything that was fanatical, obstructive,
and irreconcilable, the head of the war party, and so forth. Even Sir
Rutherford Alcock, in an article on Chinese Statesmen in 1871, adopted
this popular estimate, calling him "violently hostile, joining with Wo in
all efforts to make the anti-foreign faction predominate."
The announcement of Prince Ch'un, therefore, as the successor of Prince
Kung not unnaturally aroused apprehension of a reactionary policy.
His first public act, however, in so far as it was his, dispelled the
misconception under which foreigners had been labouring for many years:
it was to conclude a peace with France in the face of a rabid opposition.
This misconception of Prince Ch'un's character and policy is only an
example of how vain it is for foreigners to attempt to sound the currents
of Chinese politics, more especially where palace factions are concerned.
The advent of the Seventh Prince having removed all friction between the
empress-regent and the Government, it was a signal for tentative reforms
and what foreigners call progress. Li Hung-chang had to a considerable
extent imbued the Court with his own ideas. He assured them there was no
danger in adopting foreign methods and foreign manners,--on the contrary,
that to do so was the only means of safety to the empire. Within a few
months of his taking the reins, the Prince established a precedent which
amounted to a small revolution in its way. He began to transact business
through his agents with foreigners in the capital itself, which had been
up to that time strictly preserved from all contamination of foreign
trade. The two "stores" which existed were not traders by right, but
were under the special protection of certain foreign Ministers, who had
represented to the Government the necessity of such agencies for the
supply of necessaries for the use of their Legations. This was followed
in course of time by the introduction of novelties in the palace, such
as electric light, toy railways and steam launches in the imperial
pleasure-grounds. The telegraph wire itself was introduced into the city
during the summer of 1884, it having been previously jealously kept at
a distance of thirteen miles, from superstitious fears concerning the
sinister influence which the electric wire might exert over the fortunes
of the capital. However real such fears may be in the minds of the
Chinese, and however convenient they may be as a defence against proposals
from without, they invariably yield to the pressure of necessity. While
the terminus of the telegraph line was at Tungchow, the inconvenience of
having to send mounted messengers thirteen miles to despatch and receive
messages was for some time felt almost entirely by the foreign Legations;
but when the war crisis with France arose, and the Chinese Government
itself was sending urgent messages requiring immediate answers to the
southern provinces and to Europe, the absurdity of losing more time
between the Tsungli-Yamên and the telegraph station than was occupied
by the transmission of the message and its reply from Europe became so
striking, that the order was given to bring the telegraph into the city.
No more was heard of geomantic difficulties.
The most important object, however, which Li Hung-chang sought to gain
through the activity of the Seventh Prince, was so to interest his
Highness in the scheme of national defence, which had been growing under
the viceroy's initiative, that this department of the work of Government
should be transformed from a provincial to an imperial concern. With this
end in view an expedition on salt water was arranged for the Prince; and
insignificant as the feat must appear in Western eyes, yet for a Manchu
prince, who had never seen the sea, to be allowed to trust himself on the
treacherous element at all, or on such a strange monster as a steamer,
must be accepted as a decided proof that the old order was changing,
giving place to the new. The prince was undoubtedly nervous, not knowing
what should befall him on his expedition.
The first ordeal through which he had to pass was that of personal
contact with foreigners, of whom he had perhaps never seen one in
Peking. His introduction was carefully organised by Li Hung-chang, and
it was at Tientsin that the prince first met with foreign officials,
who waited upon him at separate audiences. The foreigners were as much
charmed with his Highness as he expressed himself to have been with them,
so that he embarked on his cruise free from anxiety. His attendants,
however,--on whom and on Li Hung-chang all the responsibility of course
rested,--continued to feel anxious during their passage across the Gulf.
This feeling became for a moment acute when, on landing at Port Arthur,
they were met by a British admiral and staff with a guard of honour. It
is an actual fact that the sight of strange armed men waiting for the
prince, working on oriental traditions, did suggest a trap, for the idea
of capture by treachery is never wholly absent from the Chinese mind. The
Government had taken the wise precaution of attaching to the prince an
experienced and capable foreigner in whom he reposed perfect confidence,
and Mr Detring explained foreign customs and forms of courtesy to the
prince and his suite in a way which completely reassured them. Among all
the dignitaries in the prince's suite, however, there was not one capable
of taking in the entirely novel ideas which were presented to them. One
man only, of quite subordinate rank--whether a Manchu or a Chinese by
birth is unknown to the writer--a confidential agent of the Seventh Prince
in business matters, seized the entire programme of foreign etiquette the
moment it was explained to him, and through him the whole ceremony passed
smoothly and agreeably to all parties. The name of this official was Chang
Yi, who has since been taking a leading part in mining, railway, and other
progressive enterprises in China.
On his return to Peking Prince Ch'un in a memorial to the Throne reported
fully the incidents of his cruise to the gulf ports. Not long after a
naval board was established in Peking, with the prince at its head. As a
step in the direction of centralising the naval authority, which included
also the direction of the land defences, the establishment of a Board
of Admiralty in the capital was certainly a progressive one; but as its
members possessed neither knowledge nor experience of naval or military
affairs its authority was much attenuated, almost every question having
to be referred back to Li Hung-chang in Tientsin. Any chance that might
have existed of Prince Ch'un himself inspiring the new Board and bringing
it up to a state of efficiency was lost through his Highness falling into
ill-health, from which he never recovered, but after a lingering illness
died in 1890.
VI. THE EMPEROR ASSUMES THE GOVERNMENT, 1889.
The Emperor Kwanghsu comes of age in 1889--Audience of foreign
Ministers arranged--Derogatory conditions--Second audience refused
by Ministers--Accepted by Austrian and British envoys.
In 1889 his Majesty Kwanghsu attained his majority and married. But his
coming of age was a somewhat gradual process, with intervals between
each step, as if the empress-regent, who alone determined the time and
the seasons, were either mistrustful of the capacity of her nephew
or reluctant to lay down the reins of authority. The emperor, kept
in leading-strings, was allowed to assume some of the functions of an
autocrat, but not all. This slow unfolding of the imperial blossom had
this result among others, that it procured a welcome respite from the
bitter ordeal of granting an audience to the representatives of foreign
States. It was well understood that the foreigners had for sixteen years
been looking forward to the emperor's assumption of power as to the
consummation of their diplomatic function, and that as soon as a decent
interval had been allowed to the young monarch after his majority, the
subject would become pressing.
It had been discussed in whispers for nearly two years, when, to the
astonishment of everybody, including even the members of the Tsungli-Yamên
themselves, an imperial decree was issued in December 1890 in kindly
terms ordering preparations to be made to receive the foreign Ministers
after the Chinese New Year--that is, in the February following. Since
nobody owned to having been in the secret, the act was set down to the
emperor's gracious initiative, and was hailed with enthusiasm as the
opening of a new era. The Great Wall had at last fallen; the pretensions
to superiority for which the Chinese had made such great sacrifices were
suddenly abandoned, and henceforth equality with foreign nations was to
be the basis of their diplomatic intercourse.
The hope was shortlived, for as soon as the details of the imperial
reception came to be arranged with the Tsungli-Yamên all the old
difficulties appeared in an aggravated form. The foreign ministers, having
pondered the question for eighteen years, had unanimously resolved that
they would not accept an audience in the building used for the reception
of tributary princes, where the ceremony of 1873 had taken place, but only
in the imperial palace, or not at all. The whole value of the audience was
the acknowledgment it signified of international equality. The idea that
it would facilitate business must have been long before abandoned. The
form, therefore, was everything, and the Chinese Ministers were resolved
that the "tributary" form should be adhered to. They became urgent in
their appeals to the reasonableness of the foreign Ministers. They had
gone to expense in renovating the hall, Tz-kwang-ko; they had no other
place available; the imperial decree must be obeyed, and this admitted of
no postponement.
Yielding to these arguments, the foreign Ministers agreed to a compromise.
They would, for this time only, repair to the Tz-kwang-ko, but never
again. The ceremony took place therefore on 5th March 1891. There were
two receptions--first an audience to the various foreign Ministers
separately, next a general reception of the whole of them. The diplomatic
body soon felt the consequences of their retrograde step, for when they
came to discuss details of the audience of the following year, the Chinese
interposed a simple _non possumus_ to every demand which implied the
acknowledgment of equality. A reception within the palace without the
_kotow_ could not even be discussed. No accommodation between the opposing
views being possible, there was no audience in 1892. The diplomatic
body were solidly united in maintaining the dignity of their respective
countries, and by ceasing to solicit, they left the onus of discovering
a solution of the question on the Chinese themselves. The audience was of
no practical value to the foreigners, while the withholding of it placed
the Chinese so much in the wrong that they might safely have been left to
their own devices.
Before, however, the pressure to extricate themselves and their sovereign
from an untenable position had become too severe, a diversion in their
favour was created by the flying visit of an Austrian envoy, who seemed
ready to present his credentials on any terms whatever, so that the
formalities were quickly got over, and he enabled to conclude his mission.
The Chinese availed themselves of this unexpected opportunity, and the
emperor granted an audience to M. Biegeleben in another hall or pavilion
outside the palace, which thenceforth became known locally as the Palais
Biegeleben.
At the end of 1892, not long after the Biegeleben incident, a new British
Minister arrived in Peking. Not apparently considering himself bound
by the compact to which his predecessor was a party, he, without the
knowledge of his diplomatic colleagues, accepted an audience on the same
derogatory terms as the Austrian envoy had done, and the reactionary
policy of the Chinese thus enjoyed a complete, if temporary, triumph. This
proceeding of the British Minister was deeply resented by the diplomatic
body, most of all by the Russian Minister, Count Cassini, himself a
new arrival, and the circumstance did not tend to smooth the subsequent
intercourse between the parties.
VII. THE VISIT OF THE CZAREVITCH, 1891.
Worthy reception in Peking impossible--Attempted substitution
of provincial reception--Czarevitch visits only the Russian
communities in China.
Closely connected in point of time, and possibly by a more vital link,
with the imperial audience was the voyage of the Czarevitch to India,
China, and Japan in 1890-91. There was no precedent in China for the
reception of the member of any foreign royal family. In the days before
the first audience the Duke of Edinburgh, while in command of the Galatea,
visited Peking, but strictly _incognito_, no visits being exchanged with
any Chinese. But times had changed considerably in the twenty years that
had since elapsed, and with an emperor of full age on the throne things
that were winked at during his minority could no longer be so lightly
treated. The Chinese Government were, in fact, perfectly conscious of the
responsibility which lay upon them to show courtesy to so distinguished a
visitor as the heir to the throne of Russia, and they took timely measures
for his reception.
The position of the audience question convinced the Ministers that it
would be impossible to receive him worthily in Peking, since to do so
would be to admit equality with foreign States. The first care of the
Chinese, therefore, was to induce his Imperial Highness to stay away
from the capital. The Russian Government were told that Li Hung-chang,
representing the Chinese Emperor, would meet the Czarevitch at Chefoo,
and that his reception by other Governors of provinces would be deemed
equivalent to one by the emperor in person. The Russian Government
fell into the trap, and the programme of provincial receptions would
have been carried out but for the eccentricity of Chang Chih-tung,
the governor-general of the Hu provinces on the Yangtze. He, with the
other provincials, had received the instructions about the reception of
the Czarevitch, but he alone treated the order with contempt, not even
deigning to answer it or to explain his reason. The order did not emanate
from Peking, and he would not accept a mandate from an equal. Evidently
the emperor had no hand in drawing up the programme, and this Chang had
the best means of knowing, for he had a brother in the Inner Council. This
action of a high authority throws full light on the difference between an
imperial and a provincial transaction, as the Chinese themselves regard
it.
In keeping with this independent attitude of Chang was the rudeness with
which he received the officer deputed by the Russian admiral to arrange
details of the reception at Wuchang. In this way the intended imposture
was exposed. But if the Russian Government had been too easily led into a
false position, it must be admitted they extricated themselves cleverly,
by simply demanding a yellow chair for the Czarevitch, a colour reserved
exclusively for the emperor. As this could not be conceded the official
ceremonies fell through, and the Czarevitch contented himself with
visiting the Russian communities at the Chinese ports. He then proceeded
to Japan, where a brilliant reception awaited him; and from Japan to
Vladivostock, where he turned the first sod of the Trans-Siberian Railway,
19th May 1891.
[Illustration]
FOOTNOTES:
[24] See _infra_, p. 343.
[25] See _infra_, p. 330.