KUANG HSÜ
In 1875 the Emperor T'ung Chih died of smallpox, and with his death
the malign influence of his mother comes more freely into play. The
young Empress was about to become a mother; and had she borne a son,
her position as mother of the baby Emperor would have been of
paramount importance, while the grandmother, the older Empress
Dowager, would have been relegated to a subordinate status.
Consequently,--it may now be said, having regard to subsequent
happenings,--the death of the Empress followed that of her husband at
an indecently short interval, for no particular reason of health; and
the old Empress Dowager became supreme. In order to ensure her
supremacy, she had previously, on the very day of the Emperor's
death, caused the succession to be allotted, in utter violation of
established custom, to a first cousin, making him heir to the Emperor
Hsien Fêng, instead of naming one of a lower generation who, as heir
to T'ung Chih, would have been qualified to sacrifice to the spirit
of his adopted father. Thus, the late Emperor was left without a son,
and his spirit without a ministrant at ancestral worship, the only
consolation being that when a son should be born to the new Emperor
(aged four), that child was to become son by adoption to his late
Majesty, T'ung Chih. Remonstrances, even from Manchus, were soon
heard on all sides; but to these the Empress Dowager paid no
attention until four years afterwards (1879), on the occasion of the
deferred funeral of the late Emperor, when a censor, named Wu K'o-tu,
committed suicide at the mausoleum, leaving behind him a memorial in
which he strongly condemned the action of the two Empresses Dowager,
still regarded officially as joint regents, and called for a
re-arrangement of the succession, under which the late Emperor would
be duly provided with an heir. Nothing, however, came of this
sacrifice, except promises, until 1900. A son of Prince Tuan, within
a few months to espouse the Boxer cause, was then made heir to his
late Majesty, as required; but at the beginning of 1901, this
appointment was cancelled and the spirit of the Emperor T'ung Chih
was left once more unprovided for in the ancestral temple. The first
cousin in question, who reigned as Kuang Hsü (= brilliant
succession), was not even the next heir in his own generation; but he
was a child of four, and that suited the plans of the Empress
Dowager, who, having appointed herself Regent, now entered openly
upon the career for which she will be remembered in history. What she
would have done if the Empress had escaped and given birth to a son,
can only be a matter of conjecture.
In 1876 the first resident Envoy ever sent by China to Great Britain,
or to any other nation, was accredited to the Court of St James's.
Kuo Sung-tao, who was chosen for the post, was a fine scholar; he
made several attempts on the score of health to avoid what then
seemed to all Chinese officials--no Manchu would have been sent--to
be a dangerous and unpleasant duty, but was ultimately obliged to
proceed. It was he who, on his departure in 1879, said to Lord
Salisbury that he liked everything about the English very much,
except their shocking immorality.
The question of railways for China had long been simmering in the
minds of enterprising foreigners; but it was out of the question to
think that the Government would allow land to be sold for such a
purpose; therefore there would be no sellers. In 1876 a private
company succeeded in obtaining the necessary land by buying up
connecting strips between Shanghai and Woosung at the mouth of the
river, about eight miles in all. The company then proceeded to lay
down a miniature railway, which was an object of much interest to the
native, whose amusement soon took the form of a trip there and back.
Political influence was then brought to bear, and the whole thing was
purchased by the Government; the rails were torn up and sent to
Formosa, where they were left to rot upon the sea-beach.
The suppression of rebellion in Turkestan and Yünnan has already been
mentioned; also the retrocession of Kuldja, which brings us down to
the year 1881, when the Eastern Empress died. Death must have been
more or less a relief to this colourless personage, who had been
entirely superseded on a stage on which by rights she should have
played the leading part, and who had been terrorized during her last
years by her more masterful colleague.
In 1882 there were difficulties with France over Tongking; these,
however, were adjusted, and in 1884 a convention was signed by
Captain Fournier and Li Hung-chang. A further dispute then arose as
to a breach of the convention by the Chinese, and an _état de
représailles_ followed, during which the French destroyed the Chinese
fleet. After the peace which was arranged in 1885, a few years of
comparative tranquillity ensued; the Emperor was married (1889), and
relieved his aunt of her duties as Regent.
Japan, in earlier centuries contemptuously styled the Dwarf-nation,
and always despised as a mere imitator and brain-picker of Chinese
wisdom, now swims definitively into the ken of the Manchu court. The
Formosan imbroglio had been forgotten as soon as it was over, and the
recent rapid progress of Japan on Western lines towards national
strength had been ignored by all Manchu statesmen, each of whom lived
in hope that the deluge would not come in his own time. So far back
as 1885, in consequence of serious troubles involving much bloodshed,
the two countries had agreed that neither should send troops to Korea
without due notification to the other. Now, in 1894, China violated
this contract by dispatching troops, at the request of the king of
Korea, whose throne was threatened by a serious rebellion, without
sufficient warning to Japan, and further, by keeping a body of these
troops at the Korean capital even when the rebellion was at an end. A
disastrous war ensued. The Japanese were victorious on land and sea;
the Chinese fleet was destroyed; Port Arthur was taken; and finally,
after surrendering Wei-hai-wei (1895), to which he had retired with
the remnant of his fleet, Admiral Ting, well known as "a gallant
sailor and true gentleman," committed suicide together with four of
his captains. Li Hung-chang was then sent to Japan to sue for peace,
and while there he was shot in the cheek by a fanatical member of the
Soshi class. This act brought him much sympathy--he was then
seventy-two years old; and in the treaty of Shimonoseki, which he
negotiated, better terms perhaps were obtained than would otherwise
have been the case. The terms granted included the independence of
Korea, for centuries a tribute-paying vassal of China, and the
cession of the island of Formosa. Japan had occupied the peninsula on
which stands the impregnable fortress of Port Arthur, and had
captured the latter in a few hours; but she was not to be allowed to
keep them. A coalition of European powers, Russia, Germany, and
France--England refused to join--decided that it would never do to
let Japan possess Port Arthur, and forced her to accept a money
payment instead. So it was restored to China--for the moment; and at
the same time a republic was declared in Formosa; but of this the
Japanese made short work.
The following year was marked by an unusual display of initiative on
the part of the Emperor, who now ordered the introduction of
railways; but in 1897 complications with foreign powers rather gave a
check to these aspirations. Two German Catholic priests were
murdered, and as a punitive measure Germany seized Kiaochow in
Shantung; while in 1898 Russia "leased" Port Arthur, and as a
counterblast England thought it advisable to "lease" Wei-hai-wei. So
soon as the Manchu court had recovered from the shock of these
events, and had resumed its normal state of torpor, it was rudely
shaken from within by a series of edicts which peremptorily commanded
certain reforms of a most far-reaching description. For instance, the
great public examinations, which had been conducted on much the same
system for seven or eight centuries past, were to be modified by the
introduction of subjects suggested by recent intercourse with Western
nations. There was to be a university in Peking, and the temples,
which cover the empire in all directions, were to be closed to
religious services and opened for educational purposes. The Manchus,
indeed, have never shown any signs of a religious temperament. There
had not been, under the dynasty in question, any such wave of
devotional fervour as was experienced under more than one previous
dynasty. Neither the dreams of Buddhism, nor the promises of
immortality held out by the Taoist, seem to have influenced in a
religious, as opposed to a superstitious sense, the rather Boeotian
mind of the Manchu. The learned emperors of the seventeenth and
eighteenth centuries accepted Confucianism as sufficient for
every-day humanity, and did all in their power to preserve it as a
quasi-State religion. Thus, Buddhism was not favoured at the expense
of Taoism, nor _vice versa_; Mahometanism was tolerated so long as
there was no suspicion of disloyalty; Christianity, on the other
hand, was bitterly opposed, being genuinely regarded for a long time
as a cloak for territorial aggression.
To return to the reforms. Young Manchus of noble family were to be
sent abroad for an education on wider lines than it was possible to
obtain at home. This last was in every way a desirable measure. No
Manchu had ever visited the West; all the officials previously sent
to foreign countries had been Chinese. But other proposed changes
were not of equal value.
At the back of this reform movement was a small band of earnest men
who suffered from too much zeal, which led to premature action. A
plot was conceived, under which the Empress Dowager was to be
arrested and imprisoned; but this was betrayed by Yüan Shih-k'ai, and
she turned the tables by suddenly arresting and imprisoning the
Emperor, and promptly decapitating all the conspirators, with the
exception of K'ang Yu-wei, who succeeded in escaping. He had been the
moving spirit of this abortive revolution; he was a fine scholar, and
had completely gained the ear of the Emperor. The latter became
henceforth to the end of his life a person of no importance, while
China, for the third time in history, passed under the dominion of a
woman. There was no secret about it; the Empress Dowager, popularly
known as the Old Buddha, had succeeded in terrorizing every one who
came into contact with her, and her word was law. It was said of one
of the Imperial princes that he was "horribly afraid of her Majesty,
and that when she spoke to him he was on tenter-hooks, as though
thorns pricked him, and the sweat ran down his face."
All promise of reform now disappeared from the Imperial programme,
and the recent edicts, which had raised premature hope in this
direction, were annulled; the old régime was to prevail once
more. The weakness of this policy was emphasized in the following
year (1899), when England removed from Japan the stigma of
extra-territorial jurisdiction, by which act British defendants, in
civil and criminal cases alike, now became amenable to Japanese
tribunals. Japan had set herself to work to frame a code, and had
trained lawyers for the administration of justice; China had done
nothing, content that on her own territory foreigners and their
lawsuits, as above, should be tried by foreign Consuls. One curious
edict of this date had for its object the conferment of duly graded
civil rank, the right to salutes at official visits, and similar
ceremonial privileges, upon Roman Catholic archbishops, bishops, and
priests of the missionary body in China. The Catholic view was that
the missionaries would gain in the eyes of the people if treated with
more deference than the majority of Chinese officials cared to
display towards what was to them an objectionable class; in practice,
however, the system was found to be unworkable, and was ultimately
given up.
The autumn of this year witnessed the beginning of the so-called
Boxer troubles. There was great unrest, especially in Shantung, due,
it was said, to ill-feeling between the people at large and converts
to Christianity, and at any rate aggravated by recent foreign
acquisitions of Chinese territory. It was thus that what was
originally one of the periodical anti-dynastic risings, with the
usual scion of the Ming dynasty as figure-head, lost sight of its
objective and became a bloodthirsty anti-foreign outbreak. The story
of the siege of the Legations has been written from many points of
view; and most people know all they want to know of the two summer
months in 1900, the merciless bombardment of a thousand foreigners,
with their women and children, cooped up in a narrow space, and also
of the awful butchery of missionaries, men, women, and children
alike, which took place at the capital of Shansi. Whatever may have
been the origin of the movement, there can be little doubt that it
was taken over by the Manchus, with the complicity of the Empress
Dowager, as a means of getting rid of all the foreigners in China.
Considering the extraordinary position the Empress Dowager had
created for herself, it is impossible to believe that she would not
have been able to put an end to the siege by a word, or even by a
mere gesture. She did not do so; and on the relief of the Legations,
for a second time in her life--she had accompanied Hsien Fêng to
Jehol in 1860--she sought safety in an ignominious flight. Meanwhile,
in response to a memorial from the Governor of Shansi, she had sent
him a secret decree, saying, "Slay all foreigners wheresoever you
find them; even though they be prepared to leave your province, yet
must they be slain." A second and more urgent decree said, "I command
that all foreigners, men, women, and children, be summarily executed.
Let not one escape, so that my empire may be purged of this noisome
source of corruption, and that peace may be restored to my loyal
subjects." The first of these decrees had been circulated to all the
high provincial officials, and the result might well have been
indiscriminate slaughter of foreigners all over China, but for the
action of two Chinese officials, who had already incurred the
displeasure of the Empress Dowager by memorializing against the Boxer
policy. These men secretly changed the word "slay" into "protect,"
and this is the sense in which the decree was acted upon by
provincial officials generally, with the exception of the Governor of
Shansi, who sent a second memorial, eliciting the second decree as
above. It is impossible to say how many foreigners owe their lives to
this alteration of a word, and the Empress Dowager herself would
scarcely have escaped so easily as she did, had her cruel order been
more fully executed. The trick was soon discovered, and the two
heroes, Yüan Ch'ang and Hsü Ching-ch'êng, were both summarily
beheaded, even although it was to the former that the Empress Dowager
was indebted for information which enabled her to frustrate the plot
against her life in 1898.
Now, at the very moment of departure, she perpetrated a most brutal
crime. A favourite concubine of the Emperor's, who had previously
given cause for offence, urged that his Majesty should not take part
in the flight, but should remain in Peking. For this suggestion the
Empress Dowager caused the miserable girl to be thrown down a well,
in spite of the supplications of the Emperor on her behalf. Then she
fled, ultimately to Hsi-an Fu, the capital of Shensi, and for a year
and a half Peking was rid of her presence. In 1902, she came back
with the Emperor, whose prerogative she still managed to usurp. She
declared at once for reform, and took up the cause with much show of
enthusiasm; but those who knew the Manchu best, decided to "wait and
see." She began by suggesting intermarriage between Manchus and
Chinese, which had so far been prohibited, and advised Chinese women
to give up the practice of footbinding, a custom which the ruling
race had never adopted. It was henceforth to be lawful for Manchus,
even of the Imperial family, to send their sons abroad to be
educated,--a step which no Manchu would be likely to take unless
forcibly coerced into doing so. Any spirit of enterprise which might
have been possessed by the founders of the dynasty had long since
evaporated, and all that Manchu nobles asked was to be allowed to
batten in peace upon the Chinese people.
The direct issue of the emperors of the present dynasty and of their
descendants in the male line, dating from 1616, are popularly known
as Yellow Girdles, from a sash of that colour which they habitually
wear. Each generation becomes a degree lower in rank, until they are
mere members of the family with no rank whatever, although they still
wear the girdle and receive a trifling allowance from the government.
Thus, beggars and even thieves are occasionally seen with this badge
of relationship to the throne. Members of the collateral branches of
the Imperial family wear a red girdle, and are known as Gioros, Gioro
being part of the surname--Aisin Gioro = Golden Race--of an early
progenitor of the Manchu emperors.
As a next step in reform, the examination system was to be
remodelled, but not in the one sense in which it would have appealed
most to the Chinese people. Examinations for Manchus have always been
held separately, and the standard attained has always been very far
below that reached by Chinese candidates, so that the scholarship of
the Manchu became long ago a by-word and a joke. Now, in 1904, it was
settled that entry to an official career should be obtainable only
through the modern educational colleges; but this again applied only
to Chinese and not to Manchus. The Manchus have always had wisdom
enough to employ the best abilities they could discover by process of
examination among the Chinese, many of whom have risen from the
lowest estate to the highest positions in the empire, and have proved
themselves valuable servants and staunch upholders of the dynasty.
Still, in addition to numerous other posts, it may be said that all
the fat sinecures have always been the portion of Manchus. For
instance, the office of Hoppo, or superintendent of customs at Canton
(abolished 1904), was a position which was allowed to degenerate into
a mere opportunity for piling a large fortune in the shortest
possible time, no particular ability being required from the holder
of the post, who was always a Manchu.
Then followed a mission to Europe, at the head of which we now find a
Manchu of high rank, an Imperial Duke, sent to study the mysteries of
constitutional government, which was henceforth promised to the
people, so soon as its introduction might be practicable. In the
midst of these attractive promises (1904-5) came the Russo-Japanese
war, with all its surprises. Among other causes to which the Manchu
court ascribed the success of the Japanese, freedom from the opium
vice took high rank, and this led to really serious enactments
against the growth and consumption of opium in China. Continuous and
strenuous efforts of philanthropists during the preceding half
century had not produced any results at all; but now it seemed as
though this weakness had been all along the chief reason for China's
failures in her struggles with the barbarian, and it was to be
incontinently stamped out. Ten years' grace was allowed, at the end
of which period there was to be no more opium-smoking in the empire.
One awkward feature was that the Empress Dowager herself was an
opium-smoker; the difficulty, however, was got over by excluding from
the application of the edict of 1906 persons over sixty years of age.
Whatever may be thought of the wisdom of this policy, which so far
has chiefly resulted in the substitution of morphia, cocaine, and
alcohol, the thoroughness and rapidity with which it has been carried
out, can only command the admiration of all; of those most who know
China best.