THE REIGN OF KWANGSU
Thus after a very brief interval the governing power again passed into the
hands of the regents who had ruled the state so well for the twelve years
following the death of Hienfung. The nominal emperor was a child of little
more than three years of age, to whom was given the style of "Kwangsu," or
"illustrious succession," and the empresses could look forward to many
years of authority in the name of so young a sovereign. The only
opposition to their return to power seems to have come from the palace
eunuchs, who had asserted themselves during the brief reign of Tungche and
hoped to gain predominance in the imperial councils. But they found a
determined mistress in the person of Tsi An, the Eastern Empress, as she
was also called, who took vigorous action against them, punishing their
leaders with death and effectually nipping in the bud all their projects
for making themselves supreme.
The return of the empresses to power was followed by a great catastrophe
in the relations between England and China. For the moment it threw every
other matter into the shade, and seemed to render the outbreak of war
between the two countries almost inevitable. In the year 1874 the
government of India, repenting of its brief infatuation for the Panthay
cause, yet still reluctant to lose the advantages it had promised itself
from the opening of Yunnan to trade, resolved upon sending a formal
mission of explory under Colonel Horace Browne, an officer of distinction,
through Burmah to that province. The difficulties in the way of the
undertaking seemed comparatively few, as the King of Burmah was friendly
and appeared disposed at that time to accept his natural position as the
dependent of Calcutta. The Pekin authorities also were outwardly not
opposed to the journey; and the only opposition to be apprehended was from
the Yunnan officials and people.
It was thought desirable, with the view of preparing the way for the
appearance of this foreign mission, that a representative of the English
embassy at Pekin, having a knowledge of the language and of the ceremonial
etiquette of the country, should be deputed to proceed across China and
meet Colonel Browne on the Burmese frontier. The officer selected for this
delicate and difficult mission was Mr. Raymond Augustus Margary, who to
the singular aptitude he had displayed in the study of Chinese added a
buoyant spirit and a vigorous frame that peculiarly fitted him for the
long and lonely journey he had undertaken across China. His reception
throughout was encouraging. The orders of the Tsungli Yamen, specially
drawn up by the Grand Secretary Wansiang, were explicit, and not to be
lightly ignored. Mr. Margary performed his journey in safety; and, on
January 26, 1875, only one fortnight after Kwangsu's accession, he joined
Colonel Browne at Bhamo. A delay of more than three weeks ensued at Bhamo,
which was certainly unfortunate. Time was given for the circulation of
rumors as to the approach of a foreign invader along a disturbed frontier
held by tribes almost independent, and whose predatory instincts were
excited by the prospect of rich plunder, at the same time that their
leaders urged them to oppose a change which threatened to destroy their
hold on the caravan route between Bhamo and Talifoo. When, on February 17,
Colonel Browne and his companions approached the limits of Burmese
territory, they found themselves in face of a totally different state of
affairs from what had existed when Mr. Margary passed safely through three
weeks before. The preparations for opposing the English had been made
under the direct encouragement, and probably the personal direction, of
Lisitai, a man who had been a brigand and then a rebel, but who at this
time held a military command on the frontier.
As Colonel Browne advanced he was met with rumors of the opposition that
awaited him. At first these were discredited, but on the renewed
statements that a large Chinese force had been collected to bar his way,
Mr. Margary rode forward to ascertain what truth there was in these
rumors. The first town on this route within the Chinese border is Momein,
which, under the name of Tengyue, was once a military station of
importance, and some distance east of it again is another town, called
Manwein. Mr. Margary set out on February 19, and it was arranged that only
in the event of his finding everything satisfactory at Momein was he to
proceed to Manwein. Mr. Margary reached Momein in safety, and reported in
a letter to Colonel Browne that all was quiet at that place, and that
there were no signs of any resistance. That letter was the last news ever
received from Mr. Margary. On February 19 he started from Momein, and the
information subsequently obtained left no doubt that he was treacherously
murdered on that or the following day at Manwein. An ominous silence
followed, and Colonel Browne's party delayed its advance until some
definite news should arrive as to what had occurred in front, although the
silence was sufficient to justify the worst apprehensions. Three days
later the rumor spread that Mr. Margary and his attendants had been
murdered. It was also stated that an army was advancing to attack the
English expedition; and on February 22 a large Chinese force did make its
appearance on the neighboring heights. There was no longer any room to
doubt that the worst had happened, and it only remained to secure the
safety of the expedition. The Chinese numbered several thousand men under
Lisitai in person, while to oppose them there were only four Europeans and
fifteen Sikhs. Yet superior weapons and steadfastness carried the day
against greater numbers. The Sikhs fought as they retired, and the
Chinese, unable to make any impression on them, abandoned an attack which
was both perilous and useless.
The news of this outrage did not reach Pekin until a month later, when Mr.
Wade at once took the most energetic measures to obtain the amplest
reparation in the power of the Pekin government to concede. The first and
most necessary point in order to insure not merely the punishment of the
guilty, but also that the people of China should not have cause to suppose
that their rulers secretly sympathized with the authors of the attack, was
that no punitive measures should be undertaken, or, if undertaken,
recognized, until a special Commission of Inquiry had been appointed to
investigate the circumstances on the spot. Mr. Margary was an officer of
the English government traveling under the special permission and
protection of the Tsungli Yamen. The Chinese government could not expect
to receive consideration if it failed to enforce respect for its own
commands, and the English government had an obligation which it could not
shirk in exacting reparation for the murder of its representative. The
treacherous killing of Mr. Margary was evidently not an occurrence for
which it could be considered a sufficient atonement that some miserable
criminals under sentence of death, or some desperate individuals anxious
to secure the worldly prosperity of their families, should undergo painful
torture and public execution in order to shield official falseness and
infamy. Although no one ever suspected the Pekin government of having
directly instigated the outrage, the delay in instituting an impartial and
searching inquiry into the affair strengthened an impression that it felt
reluctant to inflict punishment on those who had committed the act of
violence. Nearly three months elapsed before any step was taken toward
appointing a Chinese official to proceed to the scene of the outrage in
company with the officers named by the English minister; but on June 19 an
edict appeared in the "Pekin Gazette" ordering Li Han Chang, governor-
general of Houkwang, to temporarily vacate his post, and "repair with all
speed to Yunnan to investigate and deal with certain matters." Even then
the matter dragged along but slowly. Li Han Chang, who, as the brother of
Li Hung Chang, was an exceptionally well-qualified and highly-placed
official for the task, and whose appointment was in itself some evidence
of sincerity, did not leave Hankow until August, and the English
commissioners, Messrs. Grosvenor, Davenport and Colborne Baber, did not
set out from the same place before the commencement of October. The
intervening months had been employed by Mr. Wade in delicate and
fluctuating negotiation with Li Hung Chang (who had succeeded Tseng Kwofan
as Viceroy of Pechihli and who had now come to the front as the chief
official in the Chinese service) at Tientsin and with the Tsungli Yamen at
Pekin. It was not till the end of the year that the commission to
ascertain the fate of Mr. Margary began its active work on the spot. The
result was unexpectedly disappointing. The mandarins supported one
another. The responsibility was thrown on several minor officials, and on
the border-tribes or savages. Several of the latter were seized, and their
lives were offered as atonement for an offense they had not committed. The
furthest act of concession which the Chinese commissioner gave was to
temporarily suspend Tsen Yuying the Futai for remissness; but even this
measure was never enforced with rigor. The English officers soon found
that it was impossible to obtain any proper reparation on the spot.
Sir Thomas Wade, who was knighted during the negotiations, refused to
accept the lives of the men offered, whose complicity in the offense was
known to be none at all, while its real instigators escaped without any
punishment. When the new year, 1876, opened, the question was still
unsettled, and it was clear that no solution could be discovered on the
spot. Sir Thomas Wade again called upon the Chinese in the most emphatic
language allowed by diplomacy to conform with the spirit and letter of
their engagements, and he informed the Tsungli Yamen that unless they
proffered full redress for Mr. Margary's murder it would be impossible to
continue diplomatic relations. To show that this was no meaningless
expression, Sir Thomas Wade left Pekin, while a strong re-enforcement to
the English fleet demonstrated that the government was resolved to support
its representative. In consequence of these steps, Li Hung Chang was, in
August, 1876, or more than eighteen months after the outrage, intrusted
with full powers for the arrangement, of the difficulty; and the small
seaport of Chefoo was fixed upon as the scene for the forthcoming
negotiations. Even then the Chinese sought to secure a sentimental
advantage by requesting that Sir Thomas Wade would change the scene of
discussion to Tientsin, or at least that he would consent to pay Li Hung
Chang a visit there. This final effort to conceal the fact that the
English demanded redress as an equal and not as a suppliant having been
baffled, there was no further attempt at delay. The Chefoo Convention was
signed in that town, to which the viceroy proceeded from Tientsin. Li Hung
Chang entertained the foreign ministers at a great banquet; and the final
arrangements were hurried forward for the departure to Europe of the
Chinese embassador, whose dispatch had been decided upon in the previous
year. When the secret history of this transaction is revealed it will be
seen how sincere were Li Hung Chang's wishes for a pacific result, and how
much his advice contributed to this end.
The most important passage in the Chefoo Convention was unquestionably
that commanding the different viceroys and governors to respect, and
afford every protection to, all foreigners provided with the necessary
passport from the Tsungli Yamen, and warning them that they would be held
responsible in the event of any such travelers meeting with injury or
maltreatment. The next most important passage was that arranging for the
dispatch of an embassy to London bearing a letter of regret for the murder
of the English official. The official selected for this duty was Kwo
Sungtao, a mandarin of high rank and unexceptionable character. The letter
was submitted to Sir Thomas Wade in order that its terms should be exactly
in accordance with Chinese etiquette, and that no phrase should be used
showing that the Chinese government attached less importance to the
mission than the occasion demanded. The embassy proceeded to Europe, and,
whatever may be thought of its immediate effect, it must be allowed that
it established a precedent of friendly intercourse with this country,
which promises to prove an additional guarantee of peace. Kwo Sungtao was
accompanied by the present Sir Halliday Macartney, who had rendered such
good service to China, his adopted country, during the Taeping war and
afterward, and who, during the last sixteen years, has taught the Chinese
government how to make itself listened to by the most powerful States of
Europe.
A curious incident arising from the passion of gambling which is so
prevalent in China, and bearing incidentally upon the national character,
may be briefly referred to. The attention of the Pekin government was
attracted to this subject by a novel form of gambling, which not merely
attained enormous dimensions, but which threatened to bring the system of
public examination into disrepute. This latter fact created a profound
impression at Pekin, and roused the mandarins to take unusually prompt
measures. Canton was the headquarters of the gambling confederacy which
established the lotteries known as the Weising, but its ramifications
extended throughout the whole of the province of Kwantung. The Weising, or
examination sweepstakes, were based on the principle of drawing the names
of the successful candidates at the official examinations. They appealed,
therefore, to every poor villager, and every father of a family, as well
as to the aspirants themselves. The subscribers to the Weising lists were
numbered by hundreds of thousands. It became a matter of almost as much
importance to draw a successful number or name in the lottery as to take
the degree. The practice could not have been allowed to go on without
introducing serious abuses into the system of public examination. The
profits to the owners of the lottery were so enormous that they were able
to pay not less than eight hundred thousand dollars as hush-money to the
viceroy and the other high officials of Canton. In order to shield his own
participation in the profits, the viceroy declared that he devoted this
new source of revenue to the completion of the river defenses of Canton.
In 1874 the whole system was declared illegal, and severe penalties were
passed against those aiding, or participating in any way in, the Weising
Company. The local officers did not, however, enforce with any stringency
these new laws, and the Weising fraternity enjoyed a further but brief
period of increased activity under a different name. The fraud was soon
detected, and in an edict of August 11, 1875, it was very rightly laid
down that "the maintenance of the purity of government demands that it be
not allowed under any pretext to be re-established," and for their apathy
In the matter the Viceroy Yinghan and several of the highest officials in
Canton were disgraced and stripped of their official rank.
In China natural calamities on a colossal scale have often aggravated
political troubles. The year 1870 witnessed the commencement of a dearth
in the two great provinces of Honan and Shansi which has probably never
been surpassed as the cause of a vast amount of human suffering. Although
the provinces named suffered the most from the prevalent drought, the
suffering was general over the whole of Northern China, from Shantung and
Pechihli to Honan and the course of the Yellow River. At first the
government, if not apathetic, was disposed to say that the evil would be
met by the grant of the usual allowance made by the provincial governors
in the event of distress; but when one province after another was absorbed
within the famine area, it became no longer possible to treat the matter
as one of such limited importance, and the high ministers felt obliged to
bestir themselves in face of so grave a danger. Li Hung Chang in
particular was most energetic, not merely in collecting and forwarding
supplies of rice and grain, but also in inviting contributions of money
from all those parts of the empire which had not been affected by famine.
Allowing for the general sluggishness of popular opinion in China, and for
the absence of any large amount of currency, it must be allowed that these
appeals met with a large and liberal response. The foreign residents also
contributed their share, and even the charity of London found a vent in
sending some thousands of pounds to the scene of the famine in Northern
China. This evidence of foreign sympathy in the cause of a common humanity
made more than a passing impression on the minds of the Chinese people.
While the origin of the famine may be attributed to either drought or
civil war, there is no doubt that its extension and the apparent inability
of the authorities to grapple with it may be traced to the want of means
of communication, which rendered it almost impossible to convey the
needful succor into the famine districts. The evil being so obvious, it
was hoped that the Chinese would be disposed to take a step forward on
their own initiative in the great and needed work of the introduction of
railways and other mechanical appliances. The viceroy of the Two Kiang
gave his assent to the construction of a short line between Shanghai and
the port of Woosung. The great difficulty had always been to make a start;
and now that a satisfactory commencement had been made the foreigners were
disposed in their eagerness to overlook all obstacles, and to imagine the
Flowery Land traversed in all directions by railways. But these
expectations were soon shown to be premature. Half of the railway was open
for use in the summer of 1876, and during some weeks the excitement among
the Chinese themselves was as marked as among the Europeans. The hopes
based upon this satisfactory event were destined to be soon dispelled by
the animosity of the officials. They announced their intention to resort
to every means in their power to prevent the completion of the
undertaking. The situation revealed such dangers of mob violence that Sir
Thomas Wade felt compelled to request the company to discontinue its
operations, and after some discussion it was arranged that the Chinese
should buy the line. After a stipulated period the line was placed under
Chinese management, when, instead of devoting themselves to the interests
of the railway, and to the extension of its power of utility, they
willfully and persistently neglected it, with the express design of
destroying it. At this conjuncture the viceroy allowed the Governor of
Fuhkien to remove the rails and plant to Formosa. The fate of the Woosung
railway destroyed the hopes created by its construction, and postponed to
a later day the great event of the introduction of railways into China.
Notwithstanding such disappointments as this, and the ever present
difficulty of conducting relations with an unsympathetic people controlled
by suspicious officials, there was yet observable a marked improvement in
the relations of the different nations with the Chinese. Increased
facilities of trade, such as the opening of new ports, far from extending
the area of danger, served to promote a mutual goodwill. In 1876
Kiungchow, in the island of Hainan, was made a treaty port, or rather the
fact of its having been included in the Treaty of Tientsin was practically
accepted and recognized. In the following year four new ports were added
to the list. One, Pakhoi, was intended to increase trade intercourse with
Southern China. Two of the three others, Ichang and Wuhu, were selected as
being favorably situated for commerce on the Yangtse and its affluents,
while Wenchow was chosen for the benefit of the trade on the coast. Mr.
Colborne Baber, who had been a member of the Yunnan commission, was
dispatched to Szchuen, to take up his residence at Chungking for the
purpose of facilitating trade with that great province. The successful
tour of Captain Gill, not merely through Southwest China into Burmah, but
among some of the wilder and more remote districts of Northern Szchuen,
afforded reason to believe that henceforth traveling would be safer in
China, and nothing that has since happened is calculated to weaken that
impression.
When Kwangsu ascended the throne the preparations for the campaign against
Kashgaria were far advanced toward completion, and Kinshun had struck the
first of those blows which were to insure the overthrow of the Tungani and
of Yakoob Beg. The fall of Souchow had distinguished the closing weeks of
the year 1873, and in 1874 Kinshun had begun, under the direction of Tso
Tsung Tang, who was described by a French writer as "very intelligent, of
a bravery beyond all question, and an admirable organizer," his march
across the desert to the west. He followed a circuitous line of march,
with a view of avoiding the strongly placed and garrisoned town of Hami.
The exact route is not certain, but he seems to have gone as far north as
Uliassutai, where he was able to recruit some of the most faithful and
warlike of the Mongol tribes. But early in 1875 he arrived before the
walls of Barkul, a town lying to the northwest of Hami. No resistance was
offered, and a few weeks later Hami was also occupied. The Tungani
retreated on the approach of the Chinese, and assembled their main force
for the defense of the two towns of Urumtsi and Manas, which are situated
on the northern side of the eastern spurs of the Tian Shan. Once Barkul
and Hami were in the possession of the Chinese, it became necessary to
reopen direct communications with Souchow. This task occupied the whole of
the next twelve months, and was only successfully accomplished after many
difficulties had been overcome, and when halting-stations had been
established across Gobi. There is nothing improbable in the statement that
during this period the Chinese planted and reaped the seed which enabled
them, or those who followed in their train, to march in the following
season. With the year 1876 the really arduous portion of the campaign
commenced. The natural difficulties to the commencement of the war from
distance and desert had been all overcome. An army of about twenty-five
thousand effective troops, besides a considerable number of Mongol and
other tribal levies, had been placed in the field and within striking
distance of the rebels. The enemies were face to face. The Tungani could
retreat no further. Neither from Russia nor from Yakoob Beg could they
expect a place of refuge. The Athalik Ghazi might help them to hold their
own; he certainly would not welcome them within the limits of the six
cities. The Tungani had, therefore, no alternative left save to make as
resolute a stand as they could against the Chinese who had returned to
revenge their fellow-countrymen who had been slaughtered in their
thousands twelve years before. The town of Urumtsi, situated within a loop
of the mountains, lies at a distance by road of more than 300 miles from
Barkul. Kinshun, who had now been joined by Liu Kintang, the taotai of the
Sining district and a man of proved energy and capacity, resolved to
concentrate all his efforts on its capture. He moved forward his army to
Guchen, 200 miles west of Barkul, where he established a fortified camp
and a powder factory, and took steps te ascertain the strength and
intentions of the enemy. Toward the end of July the Chinese army resumed
its march. The difficulties of the country were so great that the advanced
guards of the opposing armies did not come into contact until August 10.
The Chinese general seems to have attempted on that date a night surprise;
but although he gained some success in the encounter which ensued, the
result must have been doubtful, seeing that he felt obliged to call off
his men from the attack. It was only, however, to collect his forces for
the delivery of a decisive blow. On August 13 a second battle was fought
with a result favorable to the Chinese. Two days later the enemy, who held
a fortified camp at Gumti, were bombarded out of it by the heavy artillery
brought from the coasts of China for the purposes of the war, and after
twenty-four hours' firing three breaches were declared to be practicable.
The place was carried by storm at the close of four hours' fighting and
slaughter, during which 6,000 men were stated to have been killed. Kinshun
followed up his victory by a rapid march on Urumtsi. That town surrendered
without a blow, and many hundred fugitives were cut down by the unsparing
Manchu cavalry, which pursued them along the road to Manas, their last
place of shelter. As soon as the necessary measures had been taken for the
military protection of Urumtsi, the Chinese army proceeded against Manas.
Their activity, which was facilitated by the favorable season of the year,
was also increased by the rumored approach of Yakoob Beg with a large army
to the assistance of the Tungani. At Manas the survivors of the Tungan
movement proper had collected for final resistance, and all that
desperation could suggest for holding the place had been done. Kinshun
appeared before Manas on September 2. On the 7th his batteries were
completed, and he began a heavy fire upon the northeast angle of the wall.
A breach of fourteen feet having been made, the order to assault was
given, but the stormers were repulsed with the loss of 100 killed. The
operations of the siege were renewed with great spirit on both sides.
Several assaults were subsequently delivered; but although the Chinese
always gained some advantage at the beginning they never succeeded in
retaining it. In one of these later attacks they admitted a loss of 200
killed alone. The imperial army enjoyed the undisputed superiority in
artillery, and the gaps in its ranks were more than filled by the constant
flow of re-enforcements from the rear. The siege gradually assumed a less
active character. The Chinese dug trenches and erected earthworks. They
approached the walls by means of galleries in readiness to deliver the
attack on any symptom of discouragement among the besieged. On October 16
a mine was sprung under the wall, making a wide breach; but although the
best portion of the Chinese army made two assaults on separate occasions,
they were both repulsed with loss. Twelve days later another mine was
sprung, destroying a large portion of the wall; but when the Chinese
stormers endeavored to carry the remaining works, they were again driven
back with heavy loss, including two generals killed in the breach.
Although thus far repulsed, the imperialists had inflicted very heavy
losses on the besieged, who, seeing that the end of their resources was at
hand, that there was no hope of succor, and that the besiegers were as
energetic as ever, at last arrived at the conclusion that they had no
choice left save to surrender on the best terms they could obtain. On
November 4, after a two months' siege, Haiyen, as the Chinese named the
Mohammedan leader, came out and offered to yield the town. His offer seems
to have been partly accepted, and on the 6th of the month the survivors of
the brave garrison, to the number of between two and three thousand men,
sallied forth from the west gate. It was noticed as a ground of suspicion
that all the men carried their weapons, and that they had placed their old
men, women and children in the center of their phalanx as if they
contemplated rather a sortie than a tame and unresisting surrender. The
Chinese commanders were not indisposed to deal with the least suspicious
circumstances as if they meant certain treachery. The imperialists
gradually gathered around the garrison. The Mohammedans made one bold
effort to cut their way through. They failed in the attempt, and were
practically annihilated on the ground. Those men who were taken by the
cavalry were at once beheaded, whether in the city or among those who had
gone forth, but the aged, the women and the children were spared by
Kinshun's express orders. All the leaders taken were tortured before
execution as rebels, and even the bodies of the dead chiefs were exhumed
in order that they might be subjected to indignity. The siege of Manas was
interesting both for the stubbornness of the attack and defense, and also
as marking the successful termination of the Chinese campaign against the
Tungani. With its capture, those Mohammedans who might be said to be
Chinese in ways and appearance ceased to possess any political importance.
It would not be going much too far to say that they no longer existed. The
movement of rebellion which began at Hochow in 1862 was thus repressed in
1876, after having involved during those fourteen years the northwestern
provinces of China, and much of the interior of Asia, in a struggle which,
for its bitter and sanguinary character, has rarely been surpassed.
[Illustration: KANG, THE REFORMER]
The successes of the Chinese gave their generals and army the confidence
and prestige of victory, and the overthrow of the Tungani left them
disengaged to deal with a more formidable antagonist. The siege of Manas
had been vigorously prosecuted in order that the town might be taken
before the army of Yakoob Beg should arrive. The Athalik Ghazi may have
believed that Manas could hold out during the winter, for his movements in
1876 were leisurely, and betrayed a confidence that no decisive fighting
would take place until the following spring. His hopes were shown to be
delusive, but too late for practical remedy. Manas had fallen before he
could move to its support. The Chinese had crushed the Tungani, and were
in possession of the mountain passes. They were gathering their whole
strength to fall upon him, and to drive him out of the state in which he
had managed to set up a brief authority. While the events recorded had
been in progress, Yakoob Beg had been ruling the state of Kashgaria with
sufficient vigor and wisdom to attract the observation of his great
neighbors, the governments of England and Russia. He had shown rare skill
in adapting circumstances to suit his own ends. The people passively
accepted the authority which he was prepared to assert with his Khokandian
soldiery, and the independent state of Kashgaria might have continued to
exist for a longer period had the Chinese not returned. But in 1875 the
arrival of Kinshun at Barkul showed Yakoob Beg that he would have to
defend his possessions against their lawful owners, while the overthrow of
the Tungani and the capture of their strongholds, in 1876, carried with
them a melancholy foreboding of his own fate. The Athalik Ghazi made his
preparations to take the field, but there was no certainty in his mind as
to where he should make his stand. He moved his army eastward,
establishing his camp first at Korla and then moving it on to Turfan, 900
miles distant from Kashgar. The greatest efforts of this ruler only
availed to place 15,000 men at the front, and the barrenness of the region
compelled him to distribute them. The Ameer was at Turfan with 8,500 men
and twenty guns. His second son was at Toksoun, some miles in the rear, at
the head of 6,000 more and five guns. There were several smaller
detachments between Korla and the front. Opposed to these was the main
Chinese army under Kinshun at Urumtsi, while another force had been placed
in the field at Hami by the energy of Tso, and intrusted to the direction
of a general named Chang Yao. No fighting took place until the month of
March, 1877, and then the campaign began with a rapid advance by Chang Yao
from Hami to Turfan. The Kashgarians were driven out of Pidjam, and
compelled, after a battle, to evacuate Turfan. The Chinese records do not
help us to unravel the events of the month of April. The campaign
contained no more striking or important episodes, and yet the reports of
the generals have been mislaid or consigned to oblivion. The Athalik Ghazi
fought a second battle at Toksoun, where he rejoined his son's army, but
with no better fortune. He was obliged to flee back to his former camp at
Korla. After the capture of Turfan the Chinese armies came to a halt. It
was necessary to reorganize the vast territory which they had already
recovered, and to do something to replenish their arsenals. During five
months the Celestials stayed their further advance, while the cities were
being re-peopled and the roads rendered once more secure. Tso Tsung Tang
would leave nothing to chance. He had accomplished two of the three parts
into which his commission might be naturally divided. He had pacified the
northwest and overthrown the Tungani, and he would make sure of his ground
before attempting the third and the most difficult of all. And while the
Chinese viceroy had, for his own reasons, come to the very sensible
conclusion to refresh his army after its arduous labors in the limited
productive region situated between two deserts, the stars in their courses
fought on his side.
Yakoob Beg had withdrawn only to Korla. He still cherished the futile
scheme of defending the eastern limits of his dominion, but with his
overthrow on the field of battle the magic power which he had exercised
over his subjects vanished. His camp became the scene of factious rivalry
and of plots to advance some individual pretension at the cost of the
better interests and even the security of the State. The exact details of
the conspiracy will never be known, partly from the remoteness of the
scene, but also on account of the mention of persons of whom nothing was,
or is ever likely to be, known. The single fact remains clear that Yakoob
Beg died at Korla on May 1, 1877, of fever according to one account, of
poison administered by Hakim Khan Torah according to another. Still the
Chinese did not even then advance, and Yakoob's sons were left to contest
with Hakim Khan Torah over the dismembered fragments of their father's
realm, A bitter and protracted civil war followed close upon the
disappearance of the Athalik Ghazi. On the removal of his dead body for
sepulture to Kashgar his eldest son, Kuli Beg, murdered his younger
brother over their father's bier. It was then that Hakim Khan came
prominently forward as a rival to Kuli Beg, and that the Mohammedans, weak
and numerically few as they were, divided themselves into two hostile
parties. While the Chinese were recruiting their troops and repairing
their losses, the enemy were exhausting themselves in vain and useless
struggles. In June, 1877, Hakim Khan was signally defeated and compelled
to flee into Russian territory, whence on a later occasion he returned for
a short time in a vain attempt to disturb the tranquillity of Chinese
rule. When, therefore, the Chinese resumed their advance much of their
work had been done for them. They had only to complete the overthrow of an
enemy whom they had already vanquished, and who was now exhausted by his
own disunion. The Chinese army made no forward movement from Toksoun until
the end of August, 1877. Liu Kintang, to whom the command of the advance
had been given, did not leave until one month later; and when he arrayed
his forces he found them to number about 15,000 men. It had been decided
that the first advance should not be made in greater force, as the chief
difficulty was to feed the army, not to defeat the enemy.
The resistance encountered was very slight, and the country was found to
be almost uninhabited. Both Karashar and Korla were occupied by a Chinese
garrison, and the district around them was intrusted to the administration
of a local chief. Information that the rebel force was stationed at the
next town, Kucha, which is as far beyond Korla as that place is from
Toksoun, induced Liu Kintang to renew his march and to continue it still
more rapidly. A battle was fought outside Kucha in which the Chinese were
victorious, but not until they had overcome stubborn resistance. However,
the Chinese success was complete, and with Kucha in their power they had
simplified the process of attacking Kashgar itself. A further halt was
made at this town to enable the men to recover from their fatigue, to
allow fresh troops to come up, and measures to be taken for insuring the
security of communications with the places in the rear. At Kucha also the
work of civil administration was intrusted to some of the local notables.
The deliberation of the Chinese movements, far from weakening their
effect, invested their proceedings with the aspect of being irresistible.
The advance was shortly resumed. Aksu, a once flourishing city within the
limits of the old kingdom of Kashgar, surrendered at the end of October.
Ush Turfan yielded a few days later. The Chinese had now got within
striking distance of the capital of the state. They had only to provide
the means of making the blow as fatal and decisive as possible. In
December they seized Maralbashi, an important position on the Kashgar
Darya, commanding the principal roads to both Yarkand and Kashgar. Yarkand
was the chief object of attack. It surrendered without a blow on December
21. A second Chinese army had been sent from Maralbashi to Kashgar, which
was defended by a force of several thousand men. It had been besieged nine
days, when Liu Kintang arrived with his troops from Yarkand. A battle
ensued, in which the Mohammedans were vanquished, and the city with the
citadel outside captured. Several rebel leaders and some eleven hundred
men were said to have been executed; but Kuli Beg escaped into Russian
territory. The city of Kashgar was taken on December 26, and one week
later the town of Khoten, famous from a remote period for its jade
ornaments, passed into the hands of the race who best appreciated their
beauty and value. The Chinese thus brought to a triumphant conclusion the
campaigns undertaken for the reassertion of their authority over the
Mohammedan populations which had revolted. They had conquered in this war
by the superiority of their weapons and their organization, and not by an
overwhelming display of numbers. Although large bodies of troops were
stationed at many places, it does not seem that the army which seized the
cities of Yarkand and Kashgar numbered more than twenty thousand men.
Having vanquished their enemy in the field, the Celestials devoted all
their attention to the reorganization of what was called the New Dominion,
the capital of which after much deliberation was fixed at Urumtsi. Their
rule has been described by a Mussulman as being both very fair and very
just.
Having conquered Eastern Turkestan, the Chinese next took steps for the
recovery of Ili. Without the metropolitan province the undertaking of Tso
Tsung Tang would lack completeness, while indeed many political and
military dangers would attend the situation in Central Asia. But this was
evidently a matter to be effected in the first place by negotiation, and
not by violence and force of arms. Russia had always been a friendly and
indeed a sympathetic neighbor. In this very matter of Ili she had
originally acted with the most considerate attention for China's rights,
when it seemed that they had permanently lost all definite meaning, for
she had declared that she would surrender it on China sending a sufficient
force to take possession, and now this had been done. It was, therefore,
by diplomatic representations on the part of the Tsungli Yamen to the
Russian Minister at Pekin that the recovery of Ili was expected in the
first place to be achieved. At about the same time the Russian authorities
at Tashkent came to the conclusion that the matter must rest with the
Czar, and the Chinese official world perceived that they would have to
depute a Minister Plenipotentiary to St. Petersburg.
The official selected for the difficult and, as it proved, dangerous task
of negotiating at St. Petersburg, was that same Chung How who had been
sent to Paris after the Tientsin massacre. He arrived at Pekin in August,
1878, and was received in several audiences by the empresses while waiting
for his full instructions from the Tsungli Yamen. He did not leave until
October, about a month after the Marquis Tseng, Tseng Kwofan's eldest son,
set out from Pekin to take the place of Kwo Sungtao as Minister in London
and Paris. Chung How reached St. Petersburg in the early part of the
following year, and the discussion of the various points in question,
protracted by the removal of the court to Livadia, occupied the whole of
the summer months. At last it was announced that a treaty had been signed
at Livadia, by which Russia surrendered the Kuldja valley, but retained
that of the Tekes, which left in her hands the command of the passes
through the Tian Shan range into Kashgar. Chung How knew nothing about
frontiers or military precautions, but he thought a great deal about
money. He fought the question of an indemnity with ability, and got it
fixed at five million roubles, or little more than half that at which it
was placed by the later treaty. There was never any reason to suppose that
the Chinese government would accept the partial territorial concession
obtained by Chung How. The first greeting that met Chung How on his return
revealed the fate of his treaty. He had committed the indiscretion of
returning without waiting for the Edict authorizing his return, and as the
consequence he had to accept suspension from all his offices, while his
treaty was submitted to the tender mercies of the grand secretaries, the
six presidents of boards, the nine chief ministers of state, and the
members of the Hanlin. Three weeks later, Prince Chun was specially
ordered to join the Committee of Deliberation. On January 27 Chung How was
formally cashiered and arrested, and handed over to the Board of
Punishment for correction. The fate of the treaty itself was decided a
fortnight later. Chung How was then declared to have "disobeyed his
instructions and exceeded his powers." On March 3 an edict appeared,
sentencing the unhappy envoy to "decapitation after incarceration." This
sentence was not carried out, and the reprieve of the unlucky envoy was
due to Queen Victoria's expression of a hope that the Chinese government
would spare his life.
At the same time that the Chinese refused their ratification to Chung
How's treaty, they expressed their desire for another pacific settlement,
which would give them more complete satisfaction. The Marquis Tseng was
accordingly instructed to take up the thread of negotiation, and to
proceed to the Russian capital as Embassador and Minister Plenipotentiary.
Some delay ensued, as it was held to be doubtful whether Russia would
consent to the reopening of the question. But owing to the cautious and
well-timed approaches of the Marquis Tseng, the St. Petersburg Foreign
Office acquiesced in the recommencement of negotiations, and, after six
months' discussion, accepted the principle of the almost unqualified
territorial concession for which the Chinese had stood firm. On February
12, 1881, these views were embodied in a treaty, signed at St. Petersburg,
and the ratification within six months showed how differently its
provisions were regarded from those of its predecessor. With the Marquis
Tseng's act of successful diplomacy the final result of the long war in
Central Asia was achieved. The Chinese added Ili to Kashgar and the rest
of the New Dominion, which at the end of 1880 was made into a High
Commissionership and placed under the care of the dashing General Liu
Kintang.
The close of the great work successfully accomplished during the two
periods of the Regency was followed within a few weeks by the
disappearance of the most important of the personages who had carried on
the government throughout these twenty years of constant war and
diplomatic excitement. Before the Pekin world knew of her illness, it
heard of the death of the Empress Dowager Tsi An, who as Hienfung's
principal widow had enjoyed the premier place in the government, although
she had never possessed a son to occupy the throne in person. In a
proclamation issued in her name and possibly at her request, Tsi An
described the course of her malady, the solicitude of the emperor, and
urged upon him the duty of his high place to put restraint upon his grief.
Her death occurred on April 18, from heart disease, when she was only
forty-five, and her funeral obsequies were as splendid as her services
demanded. For herself she had always been a woman of frugal habits, and
the successful course of recent Chinese history was largely due to her
firmness and resolution. Her associate in the Regency, Tsi Thsi, who has
always been more or less of an invalid, still survives.
The difficulty with Russia had not long been composed, when, on two
opposite sides of her extensive dominion, China was called upon to face a
serious condition of affairs. In Corea, "the forbidden land" of the Far
East, events were forced by the eagerness and competition of European
states to conclude treaties of commerce with that primitive kingdom, and
perhaps, also, by their fear that if they delayed Russia would appropriate
some port on the Corean coast. To all who had official knowledge of
Russia's desire and plan for seizing Port Lazareff, this apprehension was
far from chimerical, and there was reason to believe that Russia's
encroachment might compel other countries to make annexations in or round
Corea by way of precaution. Practical evidence of this was furnished by
the English occupation of Port Hamilton, and by its subsequent evacuation
when the necessity passed away; but should the occasion again arise the
key of the situation will probably be found in the possession not of Port
Hamilton or Quelpart, but of the Island of Tsiusima. Recourse was had to
diplomacy to avert what threatened to be a grave international danger; and
although the result was long doubtful, and the situation sometimes full of
peril, a gratifying success was achieved in the end. In 1881 a draft
commercial treaty was drawn up, approved by the Chinese authorities and
the representatives of the principal powers at Pekin, and carried to the
court of Seoul for acceptance and signature by the American naval officer,
Commodore Schufeldt. The Corean king made no objection to the arrangement,
and it was signed with the express stipulation that the ratifications of
the treaty were to be exchanged in the following year. Thus was it
harmoniously arranged at Pekin that Corea was to issue from her hermit's
call, and open her ports to trading countries under the guidance and
encouragement of China. There can be no doubt that if this arrangement had
been carried out, the influence and the position of China in Corea would
have been very greatly increased and strengthened. But, unfortunately, the
policy of Li Hung Chang--for if he did not originate, he took the most
important part in directing it--aroused the jealousy of Japan, which has
long asserted the right to have an equal voice with China in the control
of Corean affairs; and the government of Tokio, on hearing of the
Schufeldt treaty, at once took steps not merely to obtain all the rights
to be conferred by that document, to which no one would have objected, but
also to assert its claim to control equally with China the policy of the
Corean court. With that object, a Japanese fleet and army were sent to the
Seoul River, and when the diplomatists returned for the ratification of
the treaty, they found the Japanese in a strong position close to the
Corean capital. The Chinese were not to be set on one side in so open a
manner, and a powerful fleet of gunboats, with 5,000 troops, were sent to
the Seoul River to uphold their rights. Under other circumstances, more
especially as the Chinese expedition was believed to be the superior, a
hostile collision must have ensued, and the war which has so often seemed
near between the Chinese and Japanese would have become an accomplished
fact; but fortunately the presence of the foreign diplomatists moderated
the ardor of both sides, and a rupture was averted. By a stroke of
judgment the Chinese seized Tai Wang Kun, the father of the young king,
and the leader of the anti-foreign party, and carried him off to Pekin,
where he was kept in imprisonment for some time, until matters had settled
down in his own country. The opening of Corea to the Treaty Powers did not
put an end to the old rivalry of China and Japan in that country, of which
history contains so many examples; and, before the Corean question was
definitely settled, it again became obtrusive. Such evidence as is
obtainable points to the conclusion that Chinese influence was gradually
getting the better of Japanese in the country, and the attack on the
Japanese legation in 1884 was a striking revelation of popular antipathy
or of an elaborate anti-Japanese plot headed by the released Chinese
prisoner, Tai Wang Kun.
At the opposite point of the frontier China was brought face to face with
a danger which threatened to develop into a peril of the first magnitude,
and in meeting which she was undoubtedly hampered by her treaties with the
general body of foreign powers and her own peculiar place in the family of
nations. It is the special misfortune of China that she cannot engage in
any, even a defensive, war with a maritime power without incurring the
grave risk, or indeed the practical certainty, that if such a war be
continued for any length of time she must find herself involved with every
other foreign country through the impossibility of confining the hostility
of her own subjects to one race of foreigners in particular. In
considering the last war with a European country in which China was
engaged, due allowance must be made for these facts, and also for the
anomalous character of that contest, when active hostilities were carried
on without any formal declaration of war--a state of things which gave the
French many advantages. Toward the end of the year 1882, the French
government came to the decision to establish a "definite protectorate"
over Tonquin. Events had for some time been shaping themselves in this
direction, and the colonial ambition of France had long fixed on Indo-
China as a field in which it might aggrandize itself with comparatively
little risk and a wide margin of advantage. The weakness of the kingdom of
Annam was a strong enough temptation in itself to assert the protectorate
over it which France had, more or less, claimed for forty years; but when
the reports of several French explorers came to promote the conviction
that France might acquire the control of a convenient and perhaps the best
route into some of the richest provinces of interior China without much
difficulty, the temptation became irresistible. French activity in Indo-
China was heightened by the declaration of Garnier, Rocher, and others,
that the Songcoi, or Red River, furnished the best means of communicating
with Yunnan, and tapping the wealth of the richest mineral province in
China. The apathy of England in her relations with Burmah, which
presented, under its arrogant and obstructive rulers, what may have seemed
an insuperable obstacle to trade intercourse between India and China,
afforded additional inducement to the French to act quickly; and, as they
felt confident of their ability and power to coerce the court of Hue, the
initial difficulties of their undertaking did not seem very formidable.
That undertaking was, in the first place, defined to be a protectorate of
Annam, and, as the first step in the enterprise, the town of Hanoi, in the
delta of the Red River, and the nominal capital of Tonquin, was captured
before the end of the year 1882.
Tonquin stood in very much the same relationship to China as Corea; and,
although the enforcement of the suzerain tie was lax, there was no doubt
that at Pekin the opinion was held very strongly that the action of France
was an encroachment on the rights of China. But if such was the secret
opinion of the Chinese authorities, they took no immediate steps to arrest
the development of French policy in Tonquin by proclaiming it a Chinese
dependency, and also their intention to defend it. It is by no means
certain that the prompt and vigorous assertion of their rights would have
induced the French to withdraw from their enterprise, for its difficulties
were not revealed at first; but if China is to make good her hold over
such dependencies, she must be prepared to show that she thinks them worth
fighting for. While Li Hung Chang and the other members of the Chinese
government were deliberating as to the course they should pursue, the
French were acting with great vigor in Tonquin, and committing their
military reputation to a task from which they could not in honor draw
back. During the whole of the year 1883 they were engaged in military
operations with the Black Flag irregulars, a force half piratical and half
patriotic, who represented the national army of the country. It was
believed at the time, but quite erroneously, that the Black Flags were
paid and incited by the Chinese. Subsequent evidence showed that the
Chinese authorities did not taken even an indirect part in the contest
until a much later period. After the capture of Hanoi, the French were
constantly engaged with the Black Flags, from whom they captured the
important town of Sontay, which was reported to be held by imperial
Chinese troops, but on its capture this statement was found to be untrue.
The French were in the full belief that the conquest of Tonquin would be
easily effected, when a serious reverse obliged them to realize the
gravity of their task. A considerable detachment, under the command of
Captain Henri Riviere, who was one of the pioneers of French enterprise on
the Songcoi, was surprised and defeated near Hanoi. Riviere was killed,
and it became necessary to make a great effort to recover the ground that
had been lost. Fresh troops were sent from Europe, but before they arrived
the French received another check at Phukai, which the Black Flags claimed
as a victory because the French were obliged to retreat.
Before this happened the French had taken extreme measures against the
King of Annam, of which state Tonquin is the northern province. The king
of that country, by name Tuduc, who had become submissive to the French,
died in July, 1883, and after his death the Annamese, perhaps encouraged
by the difficulties of the French in Tonquin, became so hostile that it
was determined to read them a severe lesson. Hue was attacked and occupied
a month after the death of Tuduc, and a treaty was extracted from the new
king which made him the dependent of France. When the cold season began in
Tonquin, the French forces largely increased, and, commanded by Admiral
Courbet, renewed operations, and on December 11 attacked the main body of
the Black Flags at Sontay, which they had reoccupied and strengthened.
They offered a desperate and well sustained resistance, and it was only
with heavy loss that the French succeeded in carrying the town. The
victors were somewhat recompensed for their hardships and loss by the
magnitude of the spoil, which included a large sum of money. Desultory
fighting continued without intermission; Admiral Courbet was superseded by
General Millot, who determined to signalize his assumption of the command
by attacking Bacuinh, which the Black Flags made their headquarters after
the loss of Sontay. On March 8, he attacked this place at the head of
12,000 men, but so formidable were its defenses that he would not risk an
attack in front, and by a circuitous march of four days he gained the
flank of the position, and thus taken at a disadvantage the Black Flags
abandoned their formidable lines, and retreated without much loss, leaving
their artillery, including some Krupp guns, in the hands of the victors.
At this stage of the question diplomacy intervened, and on May 11 a treaty
of peace was signed by Commander Founder, during the ministry of M. Jules
Ferry, with the Chinese government. One of the principal stipulations of
this treaty was that the French should be allowed to occupy Langson and
other places in Tonquin. When the French commander sent a force under
Colonel Dugenne to occupy Langson it was opposed in the Bacle defile and
repulsed with some loss. The Chinese exonerated themselves from all
responsibility by declaring that the French advance was premature, because
no date was fixed by the Fournier Convention, and because there had not
been time to transmit the necessary orders. On the other hand, M. Fournier
declared on his honor that the dates in his draft were named in the
original convention. The French government at once demanded an apology,
and an indemnity fixed by M. Jules Ferry, in a moment of mental
excitement, at the ridiculous figure of $50,000,000. An apology was
offered, but such an indemnity was refused, and eventually France obtained
one of only $800,000.
After the Bacle affair hostilities were at once resumed, and for the first
time the French carried them on not only against the Black Flags, but
against the Chinese. M. Jules Ferry did not, however, make any formal
declaration of war against China, and he thus gained an advantage of
position for his attack on the Chinese which it was not creditable to
French chivalry to have asserted. The most striking instance of this
occurred at Foochow, where the French fleet, as representing a friendly
power, was at anchor above the formidable defenses of the Min River. In
accordance with instructions telegraphed to him, the French admiral
attacked those places in reverse and destroyed the forts on the Min
without much difficulty or loss, thanks exclusively to his having been
allowed past them as a friend. The French also endeavored to derive all
possible advantage from there being no formal declaration of war, and to
make use of Hongkong as a base for their fleet against China. But this
unfairness could not be tolerated, and the British minister at Pekin,
where Sir Harry Parkes had in the autumn of 1883 succeeded Sir Thomas
Wade, issued a proclamation that the hostilities between France and China
were tantamount to a state of war, and that the laws of neutrality must be
strictly observed. The French resented this step, and showed some
inclination to retaliate by instituting a right to search for rice, but
fortunately this pretension was not pushed to extremities, and the war was
closed before it could produce any serious consequences. The French
devoted much of their attention to an attack on the Chinese possessions in
Formosa, and the occupation of Kelung; a fort in the northern part of that
island was captured, but the subsequent success of the French was small.
The Chinese displayed great energy and resource in forming defenses
against any advance inland from Kelung or Tamsui, and the French
government was brought to face the fact that there was nothing to be
gained by carrying on these desultory operations, and that unless they
were prepared to send a large expedition, it was computed of not less than
50,000 men, to attack Pekin, there was no alternative to coming to terms
with China. How strong this conviction had become may be gathered from the
fact that the compulsory retreat, in March, 1885, of the French from
before Langson, where some of the Chinese regular troops were drawn up
with a large force of Black and Yellow Flags--the latter of whom were in
Chinese pay--did not imperil the negotiations which were then far advanced
toward completion. On June 9 of the same year a treaty of peace was signed
by M. Patenotre and Li Hung Chang which gave France nothing more than the
Fournier Convention.
The military lessons of this war must be pronounced inconclusive, for the
new forces which China had organized since the Pekin campaign were never
fully engaged, and the struggle ended before the regular regiments sent to
Langson had any opportunity of showing their quality. But the impression
conveyed by the fighting in Formosa and the northern districts of Tonquin
was that China had made considerable progress in the military art, and
that she possessed the nucleus of an army that might become formidable.
But while the soldiers had made no inconsiderable improvement, as much
could not be said of the officers, and among the commanders there seemed
no grasp of the situation, and a complete inability to conduct a campaign.
Probably these deficiencies will long remain the really weak spot in the
Chinese war organization, and although they have men who will fight well,
the only capacity their commanders showed in Tonquin and Formosa was in
selecting strong positions and in fortifying them with consummate art. But
as the strongest position can be turned and avoided, and as the Chinese,
like all Asiatics, become demoralized when their rear is threatened, it
cannot be denied that, considerable progress as the Chinese have made in
the military art, they have not yet mastered some of its rudiments. All
that can be said is that the war between France and China was calculated
to teach the advisability of caution in fixing a quarrel upon China. Under
some special difficulties from the character of the war and with divided
councils at Pekin, the Chinese still gave a very good account of
themselves against one of the greatest powers of Europe.
During the progress of this struggle a coup d'etat was effected at Pekin
of which at the time it was impossible to measure the whole significance.
In July, 1884, the Chinese world was startled by the sudden fall and
disgrace of Prince Kung, who had been the most powerful man in China since
the Treaty of Pekin. A decree of the empress-regent appeared dismissing
him from all his posts and consigning him to an obscurity from which after
nine years he has not yet succeeded in emerging. The causes of his fall
are not clear, but they were probably of several distinct kinds. While he
was the leader of the peace party and the advocate of a prompt arrangement
with France, he was also an opponent of Prince Chun's desire to have a
share in the practical administration of the state, or, at least, an
obstacle in the way of its realization. Prince Chun, who was a man of an
imperious will, and who, on the death of the Eastern Empress, became the
most important personage in the palace and supreme council of the empire,
was undoubtedly the leader of the attack on Prince Kung, and the immediate
cause of his downfall. Prince Kung, who was an amiable and well
intentioned man rather than an able statesman, yielded without resistance,
and indeed he had no alternative, for he had no following at Pekin, and
his influence was very slight except among Europeans. Prince Chun then
came to the front, taking an active and prominent part in the government,
making himself president of a new board of national defense and taking up
the command of the Pekin Field Force, a specially trained body of troops
for the defense of the capital He retained possession of these posts after
his son assumed the government in person, notwithstanding the law
forbidding a father serving under his son, which has already been cited,
and he remained the real controller of Chinese policy until his sudden and
unexpected death in the first days of 1891. Some months earlier, in April,
1890, China had suffered a great loss in the Marquis Tseng, whose
diplomatic experience and knowledge of Europe might have rendered his
country infinite service in the future. He was the chosen colleague of
Prince Chun, and he is said to have gained the ear of his young sovereign.
While willing to admit the superiority of European inventions, he was also
an implicit believer in China's destiny and in her firmly holding her
place among the greatest powers of the world. In December, 1890, also died
Tseng Kwo Tsiuen, uncle of the marquis, and a man who had taken a
prominent and honorable part in the suppression of the Taeping Rebellion.
In 1885 an important and delicate negotiation between England and China
was brought to a successful issue by the joint efforts of Lord Salisbury
and the Marquis Tseng. The levy of the lekin or barrier tax on opium had
led to many exactions in the interior which were injurious to the foreign
trade and also to the Chinese government, which obtained only the customs
duty raised in the port. After the subject had been thoroughly discussed
in all its bearings a convention was signed in London, on July 19, 1885,
by which the lekin was fixed at eighty taels a chest, in addition to the
customs due of thirty taels, and also that the whole of this sum should be
paid in the treaty port before the opium was taken out of bond. This
arrangement was greatly to the advantage of the Chinese government, which
came into possession of a large revenue that had previously been frittered
away in the provinces, and much of which had gone into the pockets of the
mandarins. This subject affords the most appropriate place for calling
attention to the conspicuous services rendered, as Director-general of
Chinese Customs during more than thirty years, by Sir Robert Hart, who, on
the premature death of Sir Harry Parkes, was appointed British Minister at
Pekin, which post, for weighty reasons, he almost immediately resigned. It
is impossible to measure the consequences and important effect of his
conduct and personal influence upon the policy and opinion of China, while
his work in the interests of that country has been both striking and
palpable. To his efforts the central government mainly owes its large and
increasing cash revenue, and when some candid Chinese historian sums up
the work done for his country by foreigners, he will admit that, what
Gordon did in war and Macartney in diplomacy, Hart accomplished in those
revenue departments which are an essential element of strength, and we
must hope that this truthful chronicler will also not forget to record
that all these loyal servants were English, members of a race which, after
fighting China fairly, frankly held out the hand of friendship and
alliance. In connection with this subject it may be noted that the emperor
issued an edict in 1890 formally legalizing the cultivation of opium,
which, although practically carried on, was nominally illegal. An
immediate consequence of this step was a great increase in the area under
cultivation, particularly in Manchuria, and so great is the production of
native opium now becoming that that of India may yet be driven from the
field as a practical revenge for the loss inflicted on China by the
competition of Indian tea. But at all events these measures debar China
from ever again posing as an injured party in the matter of the opium
traffic. She has very rightly determined to make the best of the situation
and to derive all the profit she can by taxing an article in such very
general use and consumption; but there is an end to all representations
like those made by prominent officials from Commissioner Lin to Prince
Kung and Li Hung Chang, that the opium traffic was iniquitous, and
constituted the sole cause of disagreement between China and England.
During these years the young Emperor Kwangsu was growing up. In February,
1887, in which month falls the Chinese New Year, it was announced that his
marriage was postponed in consequence of his delicate health, and it was
not until the new year of 1889, when Kwangsu was well advanced in his
eighteenth year, that he was married to Yeh-ho-na-la, daughter of a Manchu
general named Knei Hsiang, who had been specially selected for this great
honor out of many hundred candidates. The marriage was celebrated with the
usual state, and more than $5,000,000 is said to have been expended on the
attendant ceremonies. At the same time the empress-regent issued her
farewell edict and passed into retirement, but there is reason to believe
that she continued to exercise no inconsiderable influence over the young
emperor.
The marriage and assumption of governing power by the Emperor Kwangsu
brought to the front the very important question of the right of audience
by the foreign ministers resident at Pekin. This privilege had been
conceded by China at the time of the Tientsin massacre, and it had been
put into force on one occasion during the brief reign of Tungche. The time
had again arrived for giving it effect, and, after long discussions as to
the place of audience and the forms to be observed, Kwangsu issued in
December, 1890, an edict appointing a day soon after the commencement of
the Chinese New Year for the audience, and also arranging that it should
be repeated annually on the same date. In March, 1891, Kwangsu gave his
first reception to the foreign ministers, but after it was over some
criticism and dissatisfaction were aroused by the fact that the ceremony
had been held in the Tse Kung Ko, or Hall of Tributary Nations. As this
was the first occasion on which Europeans saw the young emperor, the fact
that he made a favorable impression on them is not without interest, and
the following personal description of the master of so many millions may
well be quoted. "Whatever the impression 'the Barbarians' made on him the
idea which they carried away of the Emperor Kwangsu was pleasing and
almost pathetic. His air is one of exceeding intelligence and gentleness,
somewhat frightened and melancholy looking. His face is pale, and though
it is distinguished by refinement and quiet dignity it has none of the
force of his martial ancestors, nothing commanding or imperial, but is
altogether mild, delicate, sad and kind. He is essentially Manchu in
features, his skin is strangely pallid in hue, which is, no doubt,
accounted for by the confinement of his life inside these forbidding walls
and the absence of the ordinary pleasures and pursuits of youth, with the
constant discharge of onerous, complicated and difficult duties of state
which, it must be remembered, are, according to imperial Chinese
etiquette, mostly transacted between the hours of two and six in the
morning. His face is oval shaped with a very long narrow chin and a
sensitive mouth with thin, nervous lips; his nose is well shaped and
straight, his eyebrows regular and very arched, while the eyes are
unusually large and sorrowful in expression. The forehead is well shaped
and broad, and the head is large beyond the average."
Owing to the dissatisfaction felt at the place of audience, which seemed
to put the Treaty Powers on the same footing as tributary states, the
foreign ministers have endeavored to force from the Tsungli Yamen the
formal admission that a more appropriate part of the imperial city should
be assigned for the ceremony; but as the powers themselves were not
disposed to lay too much stress on this point, no definite concession has
yet been made, and the Chinese ministers have held out against the
pressure of some of the foreign representatives. But, although no concise
alteration has been made in the place of audience, the question has been
practically settled by a courteous concession to the new English minister,
Mr. O'Conor, who succeeded Sir John Walsham in 1892, and it is gratifying
to feel that this advantage was gained more by tact than by coercion. When
Mr. O'Conor wished to present his credentials to the emperor, it was
arranged that the emperor should receive him in the Cheng Kuan Tien
Palace, which is part of the imperial residence of Peace and Plenty within
the Forbidden City. The British representative, accompanied by his
secretaries and suite in accordance with arrangement, proceeded to this
palace on December 13, 1892, and was received in a specially honorable way
at the principal or imperial entrance by the officials of the court. Such
a mark of distinction was considered quite unique in the annals of foreign
diplomacy in China, and has since been a standing grievance with the other
ministers at Pekin. It was noticed by those present that the emperor took
a much greater interest in the ceremony than on previous occasions, and
that he showed special attention as Prince Ching, the President of the
Yamen, translated the letter from Queen Victoria. This audience, which
lasted a considerable time, was certainly the most satisfactory and
encouraging yet held with the Emperor Kwangsu by any foreign envoy, and it
also afforded opportunity of confirming the favorable impression which the
intelligence and dignified demeanor of the Emperor Kwangsu have made on
all who have had the honor of coming into his presence. One incident in
the progress of the audience question deserves notice, and that was the
emperor's refusal, in 1891, to receive Mr. Blair, the United States
Minister, in consequence of the hostile legislation of that country
against China. The anti-foreign outbreak along the Yangtsekiang, in the
summer of 1891, was an unpleasant incident, from which at one time it
looked as if serious consequences might follow; but the ebullition
fortunately passed away without an international crisis, and it may be
hoped that the improved means of exercising diplomatic pressure at Pekin
will render these attacks less frequent, and their settlement and redress
more rapid.