CHINA UNDER THE EMPRESS DOWAGER
[Illustration: THE “HOLY MOTHER,” HER MAJESTY TZŬ HSI.
(From a Photograph taken in 1903.)]
CHINA UNDER THE
EMPRESS DOWAGER
BEING THE HISTORY OF THE LIFE AND
TIMES OF TZŬ HSI
COMPILED FROM STATE PAPERS AND THE
PRIVATE DIARY OF THE COMPTROLLER OF
HER HOUSEHOLD
BY
J. O. P. BLAND AND E. BACKHOUSE
ILLUSTRATED
PHILADELPHIA
J. B. LIPPINCOTT COMPANY
LONDON: WILLIAM HEINEMANN
MCMX
_Printed in England_
NOTE
The thanks of the Authors are hereby gratefully expressed to Miss
Katharine A. Carl, for permission to reproduce the photograph of her
portrait of the Empress Dowager; to Mr. K. Ogawa, art publisher of Tokyo,
for the use of his unique pictures of the Palace at Peking; to Mr. Geo.
Bronson Rea, of the _Far Eastern Review_, for permission to reproduce
illustrations originally published in that journal; to Messrs. Betines,
of Peking, for the right to publish their views of the capital; and to
the Editor of _The Times_, for his courtesy in permitting the inclusion
in this volume of certain articles written for that paper.
LONDON, _September 10th, 1910_.
CONTENTS
PAGE
I
THE PARENTAGE AND YOUTH OF YEHONALA 1
II
THE FLIGHT TO JEHOL 14
III
THE TSAI YÜAN CONSPIRACY 30
IV
THE FIRST REGENCY 51
V
TSENG KUO-FAN AND THE TAIPING REBELLION (1864) 64
VI
TZŬ HSI AND THE EUNUCHS 81
VII
A QUESTION OF ETIQUETTE 110
VIII
MAJORITY AND DEATH OF THE EMPEROR T’UNG-CHIH 117
IX
THE PROTEST AND SUICIDE OF WU K’O-TU 132
X
TZŬ HSI BECOMES SOLE REGENT 148
XI
TZŬ HSI “EN RETRAITE” 161
XII
THE REFORM MOVEMENT OF 1898 178
XIII
THE HUNDRED DAYS OF REFORM 190
XIV
THE _COUP D’ÉTAT_ OF 1898 201
XV
TZŬ HSI RESUMES THE REGENCY (1898) 211
XVI
THE GENESIS OF THE BOXER MOVEMENT 246
XVII
THE DIARY OF HIS EXCELLENCY CHING SHAN 251
XVIII
IN MEMORY OF TWO BRAVE MEN 307
XIX
SIDELIGHTS ON TZŬ HSI’S STATECRAFT 327
XX
THE FLIGHT FROM PEKIN AND THE COURT IN EXILE 340
XXI
HOW THE BOXER LEADERS DIED 363
XXII
THE OLD BUDDHA PENITENT 375
XXIII
THE RETURN OF THE COURT TO PEKING 387
XXIV
HER MAJESTY’S NEW POLICY 417
XXV
THE VALEDICTORY MEMORIAL OF JUNG LU 436
XXVI
HER MAJESTY’S LAST DAYS 443
XXVII
TZŬ HSI’S DEATH AND BURIAL 464
XXVIII
CONCLUSION 476
APPENDIX 499
INDEX 517
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS
FACING PAGE
THE “HOLY MOTHER,” HER MAJESTY TZŬ HSI _Frontispiece_
MAP OF PEKING xii, xiii
THE REGENT PRINCE CH’UN, WITH HIS TWO SONS, THE PRESENT
EMPEROR (STANDING) AND PRINCE P’U CHIEH 4
THE IMPERIAL DAÏS IN THE CHIAO-TAL HALL 18
H.I.H. P’U JU, COUSIN OF THE PRESENT EMPEROR, SON OF THE
BOXER PRINCE TSAI-YING, AND GRANDSON OF PRINCE KUNG 20
HER MAJESTY TZŬ HSI IN THE YEAR 1903 36
EXTERIOR OF THE CH’IEN CH’ING PALACE 54
H.M. TZŬ HSI, WITH THE CONSORT (LUNG YÜ) AND PRINCIPAL
CONCUBINE (JEN FEI) OF H.M. KUANG-HSÜ, ACCOMPANIED BY
COURT LADIES AND EUNUCHS 90
FACSIMILE OF LETTER WRITTEN BY CHIEF EUNUCH LI LIEN-YING 98
INTERIOR OF THE YANG HSIN TIEN. (PALACE OF “MIND NURTURE.”) 122
INTERIOR OF THE I KUN KUNG 148
INTERIOR OF THE TAI HO TIEN 166
CIRCULAR THRONE HALL IN THE GROUNDS OF THE LAKE PALACE LOOTED
BY ALLIED TROOPS IN 1900 208
PAVILION ON LAKE TO THE WEST OF FORBIDDEN CITY 208
THE “BEILEH” TSAI YING, SON OF PRINCE KUNG (CASHIERED BY TZŬ
HSI FOR PRO-BOXER PROCLIVITIES), AND HIS SON 252
H.M. THE EMPRESS DOWAGER AND LADIES OF HER COURT (1903) 256
THE TA-A-KO, SON OF PRINCE TUAN, THE BOXER LEADER 280
REPRODUCTION OF PICTURE PAINTED ON SILK BY HER MAJESTY TZŬ HSI 284
FACSIMILE OF A FRAGMENT OF THE DIARY 299
DAUGHTERS OF A HIGH MANCHU OFFICIAL OF THE COURT 302
MARBLE BRIDGE IN THE GROUNDS OF THE LAKE PALACE 350
IN THE GROUNDS OF THE PALACE IN THE WESTERN PARK 350
HIS HIGHNESS PRINCE TSAI HSÜN 386
VIEW, FROM THE K’UN MING LAKE, OF THE SUMMER PALACE 452
THE EMPRESS DOWAGER, WITH THE CHIEF EUNUCH, LI LIEN-YING 454
THE SON OF HEAVEN 458
MARBLE BRIDGE OVER THE LAKE IN THE WESTERN PARK WHICH SURROUNDS
THE LAKE PALACE 474
“TI WANG MIAO” OR TEMPLE TO THE MEMORY OF VIRTUOUS EMPERORS OF
PREVIOUS DYNASTIES 474
PORTRAIT OF THE EMPRESS DOWAGER 482
THE IMPERIAL DAÏS IN THE CH’IEN CH’ING HALL 498
CEILING AND PILLARS OF THE TAI HO TIEN 510
INDEX TO NUMBERED MAP OF PEKING
[Illustration: MAP OF PEKING.]
(1) Tung Hua Men, the East Gate Glorious. This is the usual entrance to
the Forbidden City for officials attending audience when the Court is
there resident. (It was here that was suspended in a basket the head of
the foreigner captured by the Boxers on 20th June.)
(2) Huang Chi Tien, or Throne Hall of Imperial Supremacy. In this Hall
the Empress Dowager, after the return of the Court from exile, was
accustomed to receive her officials in audience on the rare occasions
when she lived in the Forbidden City. It was here that her remains lay
for nearly a year awaiting the day of burial.
(3) Ning Shou Kung, or Palace of Peaceful Longevity. Here the Old Buddha
resided during the siege; here she buried her treasure. She returned
hither after the days of exile and lived in it pending the restoration of
the Lake Palace, desecrated by the foreign occupation.
(4) Chien Ching Kung, or Palace of Heavenly Purity. The Hall in which
China’s Emperors were accustomed to give audience to the Grand Council.
After the Boxer rising, in accordance with the new ceremonial laid down
by the Peace Protocol, the Diplomatic Body were received here. In this
Hall the Emperor Kuang Hsü discussed and decided with K’ang Yu-wei the
reform programme of 1898, and it was here that his body lay awaiting
sepulture between November 1898 and February 1909.
(5) Shen Wu Men, or Gate of Divine Military Genius. Through this, the
Northern gate of the City, the Old Buddha fled in the dawn of the 15th
August, 1900.
(6) The Rock-garden in which Her Majesty used to walk during the days of
the siege of the Legations and from which she witnessed the burning of
the Hanlin Academy.
(7) Yang Hsin Tien, or Throne Hall of Mental Growth. In this Palace the
Emperor T’ung-Chih resided during the whole of his reign.
(8) Hsi Hua Men, or West Gate Glorious. One of the main entrances to the
Forbidden City.
(9) Tai Ho Tien, Throne Hall of Exalted Peace. Used only on occasions
of High ceremony, such as the accession of a new Emperor, an Imperial
birthday celebration, or the New Year ceremonies.
(10) Shou Huang Tien, or Throne Hall of Imperial Longevity. In this
building the reigning sovereign unrolls on the day of the New Year the
portraits of deceased Emperors, and pays sacrifice to them.
(11) Hsi Yüan Men, Western Park Gate. It is through this that the Grand
Council and other high officials pass to audience when the sovereign is
in residence at the Lake Palace.
(12) At this gate the Emperor was wont to await, humbly kneeling, the
arrival of the Old Buddha on her way to or from the Summer Palace.
(13) The Altar of Silkworms, at which the Empress Consort must sacrifice
once a year, and where the Old Buddha sacrificed on occasion.
(14) A Lama Temple where the Old Buddha frequently worshipped.
(15) Ta Hsi Tien. The Temple of the Great Western Heaven. A famous
Buddhist shrine built in the reign of the Emperor Kang Hsi.
(16) The Old Catholic Church built within the Palace precincts by
permission of the Emperor Kang-Hsi. It was converted by the Empress
Dowager into a Museum in which was kept the collection of stuffed birds
made by the missionary Père David. Eye-witnesses of the siege of the
French Cathedral in 1900 have stated that the Empress and several of
the ladies of the Court ascended to the roof of this building to watch
the attack on the Christians; but it is not likely that they exposed
themselves for any great length of time in what must have been a
dangerous position.
(17) Tzu Kuang Ko: Throne Hall of Purple Effulgence. The building in
which the Emperor is wont to receive, and entertain at a banquet, the
Dalai and Panshen Lamas and certain feudatory chiefs. Before 1900,
Foreign Envoys were also received here.
(18) Ching Cheng Tien, or Throne Hall of Diligent Government. Used for
the audiences of the Grand Council when the Court was in residence at the
Lake Palace.
(19) Li Yüan Tien: Throne Hall of Ceremonial Phœnixes. Part of the
Empress Dowager’s new Palace, built for her in the early years of Kuang
Hsü’s reign. Here she received birthday congratulations when resident at
the Lake Palace, and here she gave her valedictory audience, just before
her death.
(20) Ying Tai, or Ocean Terrace, where the Emperor Kuang Hsü was kept
under close surveillance after the _coup d’état_ in 1898, and which he
never left (except on one occasion when he attempted to escape) between
September 1898 and March 1900. By means of a drawbridge, this Ocean
Terrace was made a secure place of confinement. After the return of the
Court in 1902, His Majesty lived here again, but under less restraint,
and it was here that he met his death.
(21) At this point stood the high mound which Her Majesty is reported
to have ascended on the night of 13th June, 1900, to watch the
conflagrations in various parts of the city.
(22) The White Pagoda, built in the time of the Yüan dynasty (_circa_
1290 A.D.), when the artificial lake was also made.
(23) Wan Shou ssŭ, the Temple of Imperial Longevity. Here the Empress was
accustomed to sacrifice on her journeys to and from the Summer Palace.
(24) The residence of Ching Shan, where the Diary was written.
(25) The residence of Wen Lien, Comptroller of the Household and friend
of Ching Shan.
(26) Residence of Jung Lu.
(27) Place of the Princess Imperial, the daughter of Prince Kung, whom
the Empress Dowager adopted.
(28) Birthplace of the present infant Emperor, Hsüan T’ung, son of Prince
Ch’un and grandson of Jung Lu. In accordance with prescribed custom, it
will be converted into a shrine.
(29) Birthplace of H.M. Kuang Hsü. Half of this building has been
converted into a shrine in honour of His Majesty, and the other half into
a memorial temple to the first Prince Ch’un, grandfather of the present
infant Emperor.
(30) Pewter Lane, where Yehonala was born.
(31) Palace of Duke Chao, younger brother of Tzŭ Hsi.
(32) Palace of Duke Kuei Hsiang, elder brother of Tzŭ Hsi and father of
the present Empress Dowager.
(33) At this point was erected the scaffolding from which guns were
trained on the Legations. The soldiers on duty here were quartered in the
house of Ching Shan.
(34) The execution ground where were put to death the Reformers of 1898
and the Ministers who, in 1900, protested against the attack on the
Legations.
(35) The residence, in 1861 of Tsai Yüan, hereditary Prince Yi, who was
put to death by Tzŭ Hsi for usurping the Regency.
(36) Residence of Tuan Hua, the Co-Regent with Tsai Yüan, also allowed to
commit suicide in 1861.
(37) The Imperial Clan Court, in which is the “Empty Chamber,” where the
usurping Princes met their death.
(38) Residence of the “Beileh” Tsai Ying, son of Prince Kung, cashiered
for complicity in the Boxer rising.
(39) The site of the Chan-Ta-ssu, a famous Lama Temple, destroyed by the
French in 1900 for having been a Boxer drilling ground.
(40) Residence of the Chief Eunuch, Li Lien-ying.
(41) Now the Belgian Legation premises, but formerly the residence of
the Boxer protagonist, Hsü T’ung, that fierce old Imperial Tutor whose
ambition it was to have his cart covered with the skins of foreign devils.
(42) The Imperial Canal, by way of which the Old Buddha used to proceed
in her State barge to the Summer Palace.
(43) The graves of the Empress Dowager’s parents. They are adorned with
two marble pillars, bearing laudatory inscriptions.
(44) Here was erected the temporary railway station at which the Empress
alighted on her return from exile.
(45) In the north-west corner of the enceinte of the Chien Men, a shrine
at which the Empress Dowager and the Emperor sacrificed to the tutelary
god of the dynasty (Kuan Yü), the patron saint of the Boxers.
(46) At this point many Christians were massacred on the night of 13th
June, 1900.
(47) Palace of Prince Chuang, the Boxer leader, mentioned by Ching Shan
as the place where the Christians were tried.
(48) Residence of Yüan Ch’ang, where he was arrested for denouncing the
Boxers.
(49) Residence of the Grand Secretary, Wang Wen-shao.
(50) Residence of Yang Li-shan, the President of the Board of Revenue,
executed by order of Prince Tuan.
(51) Residence of Duke Lan, the Boxer leader. At present occupied by
Prince Pu Chün, the deposed Heir to the Throne and a most notorious
reprobate.
(52) Tzŭ Ning Kung, or Palace of Maternal Tranquillity, where the Empress
Dowager Tzŭ An resided during most of the years of the Co-Regency.
(53) Chang Ch’un Kung, or Palace of Perpetual Spring, where Tzŭ Hsi
resided during the reign of T’ung-Chih.
(54) Residence of the actors engaged for Palace performances.
(55) The Nei Wu Fu, or Imperial Household Department Offices.
(56) The Taoist Temple (Ta Kao Tien), where the Emperor prays for rain or
snow.
(57), (58) In these two Palaces resided the chief Imperial concubines.
After Tzŭ Hsi’s resumption of the Regency in 1898, Kuang Hsü and His
Consort occupied small apartments at the back of her Palace, on the brief
visits of the Court to the Forbidden City.
(59) Chung Ho Tien, or Throne Hall of Permanent Harmony. Here H.M. Kuang
Hsü was arrested in September 1898 and taken away to confinement in the
“Ocean Terrace.”
I
THE PARENTAGE AND YOUTH OF YEHONALA
The family of Yehonala, one of the oldest of the Manchu clans, traces
its descent in direct line to Prince Yangkunu, whose daughter married
(in 1588) Nurhachu, the real founder of Manchu rule in China and the
first direct ancestor of the Ta Ching Emperors. Yangkunu was killed at
Mukden in 1583, in one of his raids upon the territories which still owed
allegiance to the degenerate Chinese sovereign Wan Li. His clan lived and
flourished in that region, near the Corean border, which is dominated by
the Long White Mountain, the true cradle of the Manchu stock. He and his
people seem to have acquired the arts of war, and much lust of conquest,
by constantly harassing the rich lands on their ever-shifting borders,
those rich lands which to-day seem to be about to pass under the yoke of
new invaders. Yangkunu’s daughter assumed the title of Empress by right
of her husband’s conquests, and her son it was who eventually wrested the
whole of Manchuria from the Ming Dynasty and reigned under the name of
Tien-Ts’ung.
Into this clan, in November 1835, was born Yehonala, whose life was
destined to influence countless millions of human beings, Yehonala, who
was to be thrice Regent of China and its autocratic ruler for over half a
century. Her father, whose name was Hui Cheng, held hereditary rank as
Captain in one of the Eight Banner Corps. Considering the advantages of
his birth, he was generally accounted unsuccessful by his contemporaries;
at the time of his death he had held no higher post than that of an
Intendant of Circuit, or Taotai. Holding this rank in the province of
Anhui, he died when his daughter was but three years of age. His widow
and family were well cared for by a kinsman named Muyanga, father of her
who subsequently became Empress Consort of Hsien-Feng and Co-Regent with
Yehonala. From him the children received every advantage of education.
Many unfounded and ridiculous stories have been circulated in recent
years attributing to the Empress Dowager humble, and sometimes
disgraceful, antecedents. Many of these are nothing more than the fruit
of Yellow Journalism, seeking sensational material of the kind which
appeals to the iconoclastic instincts of its readers. Others, however,
undoubtedly owe their origin to the envy, hatred and malice of Palace
intrigues, to the initiative of the Iron-capped Princes and other high
officials of the elder branch of the Imperial family, many of whom were
addicted to besmirching the family and character of Tzŭ Hsi in order to
inflict “loss of face” on the Yehonala clan. In this way, and because mud
thrown from above usually sticks, their malicious stories were freely
circulated, and often believed, in Peking and in the South: witness the
writings of K’ang Yu-wei and his contemporaries.[1]
To cite an instance. One of these mythical stories used to be told, with
every appearance of good faith, by Prince Tun, the fifth son of the
Emperor Tao-Kuang. This Prince cherished a grudge against Tzŭ Hsi because
of his disappointed ambitions: adopted himself out of the direct line of
succession, he had nevertheless hoped, in 1875, that his son would have
been chosen Emperor. The story, as he used to tell it, was that when the
Empress’s mother had been left a widow with a large family (including
the future ruler of China) they lived in the most abject poverty at
the prefectural city of Ningkuo, where her husband had held office and
died. Having no funds to pay for her return to Peking, she would have
been reduced to beggary had it not been that, by a lucky accident, a sum
of money intended for another traveller was delivered on board of her
boat at a city on the way, and that the traveller, on learning of the
mistake and being moved to pity at the sight of the family’s destitution,
insisted on her keeping the money. Twenty-five years later, when Tzŭ Hsi
had become the all-powerful Regent, this official appeared for audience
at Peking, when, remembering the benefits received at his hands, the
Empress raised him from his knees and expressed her gratitude for his
kindness. The story is prettier than many which emanate from the same
source, and original, too, in the idea of a Manchu official dying at his
provincial post in abject poverty, but unfortunately for the truth of the
narrative, it has been established beyond shadow of doubt that neither
the wife nor the family of Tzŭ Hsi’s father were with him at the time of
his death. They had gone on ahead to Peking, in anticipation of his early
return thither to take up a new appointment in the White Banner Corps.
Before proceeding further, it may be well to refer briefly to the
Yehonala clan and its position in relation to the elder branch of the
Imperial family, a question of no small importance, past and future, in
its effect on the history of modern China. Jealousy and friction there
have always been between the Imperial house and this powerful patrician
clan, since the first Yehonala became _de facto_ ruler of the Empire
after the collapse of the Tsai Yüan conspiracy, but their relations
became more markedly strained after the _coup d’état_ in 1898, and
although the wholesome fear of the Empress Dowager’s “divine wrath”
prevented any definite cleavage, the possibilities of trouble were ever
latent in the Forbidden City. Recent events at Peking, and especially the
dismissal of the Chihli Viceroy, Tuan Fang, for alleged irreverence at
the funeral ceremonies of the late Empress Dowager, have emphasised the
divisions in the Manchu camp and the dangers that beset its Government,
now bereft of the strong hand of Tzŭ Hsi. It is difficult for foreigners
to form any clear idea of the actual conditions of life and of party
divisions in the Palace, confused as they are by intricate questions
of genealogy, of inter-marriage and adoptions by relatives, of ancient
clan feuds. It should, however, be explained that the Imperial Clansmen
(known in their own tongue as Aisin Gioros) divided into the Yellow and
Red Girdles, are the descendants respectively of Nurhachu himself and
of that ruler’s ancestors, by virtue of which ancestry they consider
themselves (and the Chinese would recognise the claim) to be the _sang
pur_ and highest nobility of the Manchu Dynasty. The Yehonala clan,
although in no sense of Royal blood (as marriages between the sovereign
and female members of a family do not entitle that family to claim more
than noble rank) owes its great power not only to its numbers, but to
the fact that it has given three Empresses Dowager to the Empire; but,
above all, to the great prestige and personal popularity of Tzŭ Hsi. If
recent events are to be interpreted in the light of history, and of her
significant death-bed mandate, the present leaders of the Yehonala clan
are determined that the present Empress Dowager, the widow of Kuang-Hsü,
shall follow in the footsteps of her august aunt, and control the
business of the State, at least during the Regency. And, thanks to Tzŭ
Hsi’s far-seeing statecraft, the young Emperor is a grandson of Jung Lu,
and may be expected therefore to reverence the policy handed down by the
Old Buddha.
[Illustration: THE REGENT, PRINCE CH’UN, WITH HIS TWO SONS, THE PRESENT
EMPEROR (STANDING) AND PRINCE P’U CHIEH.]
One long-standing cause of suspicion and dissension between the
parties in the Palace arises from the fear of the elder descendants
of Tao-Kuang (of whom Prince P’u Lun and Prince Kung are the chief
representatives) that the present boy-Emperor, or his father, the Regent,
will hereafter elevate the founder of his branch, the first Prince
Ch’un, to the posthumous rank of Emperor, a species of canonisation
which Europeans might consider unimportant, but which, in the eyes of
the Chinese, would constitute a sort of posthumous usurpation on the
part of the junior branch of the Imperial clan, since the first Prince
Ch’un would thus be placed on a footing of equality with Nurhachu, the
founder of the Dynasty, and would practically become the founder of a
new line. The first Prince Ch’un had himself foreseen the possibility
of such an occurrence, and had realised that it could not fail to lead
to serious trouble, for which reason, as will be seen hereafter, he
had taken precautions to prevent it. It has not escaped the attention
of those whose business it is to watch the straws that float down the
stream of high Chinese policy that, since the accession of the present
child-Emperor to the Throne, the ancestral sacrifices made at the
mausoleum of the first Prince Ch’un have been greatly elaborated in pomp
and circumstance, while in official documents his name has been given
“double elevation,” that is to say, in the eyes of the _literati_ he is
made to rank on the same level as a reigning Emperor. It is commonly
believed by those Chinese who are in a position to speak with authority
on the subject, that when the Emperor attains his majority, he will be
led to confer further posthumous honours upon his grandfather, including
that of “triple elevation,” which would place him on a footing of
equality with a deceased Emperor, and entitle him to worship at a special
shrine in the Temple of the Ancestors of the Dynasty. From a Chinese
constitutional point of view, the consequences of such a step would be
extremely serious and difficult of adjustment.
The Old Buddha was a strong partisan, and during her lifetime her
immediate kinsmen were practically above the law, basking in the
sunshine of her protection or making hay thereby, so that there was
always a strong undercurrent of friction between them and the Yellow and
Red Girdles, friction of which echoes frequently reached the tea-houses
and market places of the capital. Tzŭ Hsi delighted to snub the Aisin
Gioros; in one Decree she forbade them to reside in the business quarter
of the city, on the ground that she had heard it said that some of them
were making money by disreputable trades. She was by no means beloved of
the Iron-capped princes and other noble descendants of Nurhachu, who,
while they feared her, never ceased to complain that she curtailed their
time-honoured privileges.
An interesting example of her masterful methods of dealing with these
hereditary aristocrats occurred when one of the Imperial Dukes ventured
to build himself a pretentious house in the immediate vicinity of the
Imperial City, and overlooking a considerable portion of the palace
enclosure. No sooner was the building completed than the Old Buddha
confiscated it, reprimanding the owner for his lack of decorum in daring
to overlook the Palace grounds, and forthwith she bestowed it upon her
younger brother, the Duke Chao.
Another example of her clannishness, and of the difficulties which it
created for the local authorities, occurred upon the establishment of
the new Police Board at Peking, three years after the return of the
Court from exile in 1902. The Grand Councillor, Hsü Shih-ch’ang, a
Chinese by birth, and a favourite of Her Majesty, was placed at the head
of this new Board, but he soon realised that the lot of his policemen,
when dealing with the members of the ruling clan, was by no means a
happy one. Her Majesty’s third brother, the Duke Kuei Hsiang, was a
particularly hardened offender, absolutely declining to recognise police
regulations of any kind, and inciting his retainers to “gain face” by
driving on the wrong side of the road and by committing other breaches
of the regulations. On one occasion a zealous policeman went so far as
to arrest one of the Duke’s servants. Hsü Shih-ch’ang, hearing of the
occurrence, promptly ordered the man’s release, but the Duke, grievously
insulted, insisted upon an abject apology from the head of the Board
in person. Thrice did the unfortunate Hsü call at the Duke’s palace
without gaining admission, and it was only after he had performed a
kowtow before the Duke in the open courtyard outside the palace that his
apology was accepted. An idea of the importance of this incident in the
eyes of the Pekinese, and of the power of the clansmen, may be inferred
from the fact that Hsü subsequently became Viceroy of the Manchurian
provinces, later President of the Ministry of Posts and Communications,
and in August, 1910, was elevated to the Grand Council. On this occasion,
however, the Old Buddha, learning of the incident, “excused” Hsü from
further attendance at the Grand Council, and shortly afterwards he was
transferred to Mukden.
Yehonala’s mother, the lady Niuhulu, survived her husband for many years,
residing in his house in “Pewter Lane” (Hsi-la-hu-t’ung), quite close
to the Legation quarter. When her daughter became Empress Mother, she
received the rank of Imperial Duchess. She appears to have been a lady
of great ability and good sense, distinguished even amongst the members
of a clan always noted for the intelligence of its women kind. After
living to a ripe old age, she was buried beside her husband in the family
graveyard which lies without the city to the west, in the vicinity of the
Europeans’ race-course, where her daughter’s filial piety was displayed
by the erection of an honorific arch and the customary marble tablets.
When, in January 1902, the Empress Dowager returned from exile by railway
from Cheng-ting fu, she gained great kudos from the orthodox by declining
to enter the capital by the Hankow railway line, because that line ran
close to her parents’ graves, and it would have been a serious breach of
respect to their memory to pass the spot without reverently alighting to
make obeisance. She therefore changed her route, entering Peking from
the south, to the great admiration of all her people.
Of Yehonala’s childhood there is little to record except that among her
youthful playmates was a kinsman, Jung Lu, who in after years was to play
so prominent a part in many a crisis of her career. By common report she
had been betrothed to him from birth. This report is not verifiable, but
there is no doubt that the great influence which Jung Lu exercised over
her, far greater than that of any of her family or highest officials, was
founded in their early youth. K’ang Yu-wei and other Chinese officials
opposed to the Manchu rule have not hesitated to assert that he was on
terms of improper intimacy with her for years, dating from the flight to
Jehol, and before the decease of her husband the Emperor.
Yehonala’s education followed the usual classical course, but the
exceptional alertness and activity of her mind, combined with her
inordinate ambition and love of power, enabled her to rise superior to
its usually petrifying influences and to turn her studies to practical
account in the world of living men. She learned to paint skilfully and
to take real pleasure in the art; she was an adept at the composition of
verses, as classically wooden in form as anything produced by the most
distinguished of English public schools. At the age of sixteen she had
mastered the Five Classics in Chinese and Manchu, and had studied to good
purpose the historical records of the twenty-four Dynasties. She had
beyond doubt that love of knowledge which is the beginning of wisdom,
and the secret of power, and she had, moreover, the chroniclers aver, a
definite presentiment of the greatness of her destiny.
Upon the death of the Emperor Tao-Kuang in 1850, his eldest surviving
son, aged nineteen, ascended the Throne under the reign-title of
Hsien-Feng. After the expiry of the period of mourning (twenty-seven
months) during which the new Emperor may not marry, a Decree was issued
commanding that all beautiful Manchu maidens of eligible age should
present themselves at the Imperial Household Office which would make
from them a selection for the Emperor’s harem. Prior to his accession,
Hsien-Feng had married the eldest daughter of Muyanga, but she had died
before his coming to the Throne. Among the maidens who obeyed the nuptial
Edict were Muyanga’s second daughter, Sakota, and the young Yehonala.
On the 14th of June, 1852, about sixty of the beauty and fashion of
the Manchu aristocracy appeared before the critical eye of the widow
of Tao-Kuang, who selected twenty-eight from among them, and these she
divided into the four classes of Imperial concubines, viz., “Fei,”
“P’in,” “Kuei Jen,” and “Ch’ang Tsai.” Sakota thus became a “P’in,” and
Yehonala a “Kuei Jen” or “honourable person.” With rare exceptions, these
Imperial concubines are much more the servants of their mother-in-law
than the wives of their sovereign. In theory, their number is limited to
seventy, but this number is seldom maintained; beside them, there are
within the Palace precincts some two thousand female Manchus, employed
as handmaidens and general servants under the direction of the eunuchs.
In all domestic matters of the household, the widow of the Emperor last
deceased exercises supreme authority, and although precedent allows
the Emperor to inspect the ladies selected, he has no voice in their
disposition or the determination of their rank.
Thus Yehonala left her home in Pewter Lane to become an inmate of the
Forbidden City, cut off henceforth from all direct intercourse with
her own people. An aged tiring woman who served her from the time of
her first entry into the Palace until her death, is our authority for
the following interesting description of the only visit which she ever
paid to her family. It was in January 1857, nine months after the birth
of her son, the heir to the Throne, that, by special permission of the
Emperor, she was allowed to leave the Palace. Early in the morning,
eunuchs were sent to announce to her mother that her daughter, the
Concubine Yi, was coming to visit her at mid-day. There was much joyful
excitement amongst the family and its friends at this rare honour. All
the neighbours in Pewter Lane turned out to see the eunuchs and the
yellow-draped chair. The mother and all the members of the household
(including some of an elder generation) ranged themselves on either side
of the entrance courtyard as the chair was borne within. At the head
of the steps leading to the inner courtyard the eunuchs in attendance
requested her to descend; she then entered the main room, where she took
the seat of honour. Her family approached respectfully to salute her, all
kneeling except her mother and the elder relatives. A banquet was then
served at which, by special arrangement, the mother took a seat lower
than that of the daughter, thus recognising her position as mother of the
Heir Apparent. All present were most favourably impressed by Yehonala’s
unaffected and affectionate disposition; she seemed quite unspoiled by
the formalities and splendours of Court life, talking with all the old
vivacity as a daughter of the house, showing the keenest interest in the
family’s affairs, and particularly in the education of her sisters.
The banquet lasted till late in the afternoon, Yehonala asking and
answering innumerable questions. As the short January day drew to its
close, the eunuchs requested her to prepare to return to the Palace. She
therefore took an affectionate farewell of her family, expressing sincere
regret that her life must be cut off from theirs, but hoping that some
day the Emperor might again permit her to visit them. Her mother, she
said, would, in any case, be allowed to come and see her in the Palace.
After distributing presents to all the members of her family, she entered
her palanquin and was borne away. She never saw her home again, but in
later years her mother used frequently to visit her in the Forbidden City.
Upon entering the Palace, Yehonala proceeded to establish herself
firmly and speedily in the good graces of Tao-Kuang’s widow; through
her influence at first, and later by virtue of her own charm, she soon
became first favourite with her weak and dissolute lord; and when, in
April 1856, she crowned his long disappointed ambitions by presenting
him with an heir to the Throne, her position was completely assured. At
the time of her entering the Palace, the Taiping rebellion was causing
great uneasiness at the capital. In March 1853, the rebels took Nanking,
the southern capital. Yehonala, who had already made it her business to
read, and advise on, all Memorials from the provinces, used her growing
influence with the Son of Heaven to secure the appointment of Tseng
Kuo-fan as Commander-in-Chief, and to provide him with funds for the
raising of train-bands in Hunan, with which, and with the help of General
Gordon, Tseng eventually suppressed the rebellion. Thus early she showed
her superiority to environment and the fetters of tradition, displaying
at a moment of national danger that breadth of mind and quick decision
which distinguished her. By all official precedent, Tseng Kuo-fan was not
available for service, being in mourning for his mother, but it was ever
Yehonala’s opinion that precedents were meant to be subordinate to the
State and not the State to precedents, wherein lies the mark of the born
ruler.
In August 1855 the widow of Tao-Kuang died and Yehonala, in recognition
“of her dutiful ministrations,” was raised to the rank of “P’in,” her
colleague Sakota having in the meanwhile become Empress Consort.
It was the common belief of Chinese writers at this time that the reign
of Hsien-Feng would witness the end of the Dynasty, which was held to
have “exhausted the mandate of Heaven.” All over the Empire rebellion
was rife; the sovereign himself was a weak debauchee, incapable of
inspiring either loyalty or affection in his people. In the eyes of the
_literati_ he was a degenerate, having none of the scholarly tastes which
had made his five predecessors famous in history, nor any disposition
to follow their example in the compiling of monumental editions of the
classics and dictionaries, which have endeared their memory to scholars.
It was, moreover, considered ominous that no heir had yet been born to
him, though he was now twenty-five, several of his predecessors having
provided for the succession before they were fifteen. When, therefore, in
April 1856, Yehonala gave birth to a son, and at the same time the rebels
were driven from the provinces of Hunan and Kiangsi, it was felt that the
tide of evil had turned and that Heaven’s favour once more smiled upon
the Throne.
At this period, the health of the Emperor, stricken with paralysis, had
completely broken down and Yehonala, by virtue of her position as mother
of the Heir Apparent, and even more by reason of her masterful character,
became the real ruler of the Empire. Her colleague, the Empress Consort,
took little or no active interest in the business of government. In
actual rank, Yehonala had risen to the position of a concubine of the
first grade “Fei” and was generally known in the metropolis as the “Kuei
Fei, Yi,” the last word being her honorific title, meaning “feminine
virtue.”
Her advice on foreign affairs at this period was generally of an
aggressive character, and the fact is not matter for wonder when we
bear in mind her youth, her pride of race and her complete ignorance of
foreign countries and their resources. On the return of the special Envoy
Ch’i Ying, who had been sent to endeavour to induce Lord Elgin to leave
Taku and whose mission had ignominiously failed, it was to the haughty
Yehonala that common report credited the Decree which ordered him to be
presented with the “silken cord” of self-despatch, as a mark of “the
Throne’s benevolent leniency.” To her also was ascribed the Emperor’s
refusal to permit the High Commissioner Yeh at Canton to negotiate with
the British on trade questions, a decision which led directly to the
capture of that city by the foreign barbarian in the following year. In
the records left by chroniclers and diarists of that time it is generally
noticeable that the Emperor’s opinions and doings are ignored and that
all the business of the Imperial City and the Empire had come to depend
on the word of Yehonala, a fact in itself sufficiently remarkable in a
country where no woman is supposed to rule, and particularly remarkable
when we bear in mind that she was at this time only a concubine and
twenty-two years of age.
To prevent confusion arising from the several names and titles of the
Empress Dowager, it should be explained that her family or clan name of
Yehonala was that by which she was known to the world of Peking before
and at the time of her selection for the Imperial harem. In the Palace,
until her accession to the rank of Empress Mother (Empress of the West),
she was still Yehonala, but more usually described as the “Yi” concubine.
As co-Regent and Empress Mother, her official designation, Imperially
decreed, was Tzŭ Hsi, to which many other honorifics were added. To
the mass of the people she was either the Empress Dowager (_Huang T’ai
Hou_) or the Old Buddha, and towards the end of her reign this last
affectionately respectful title was universally used in the North.
[Illustration: THE IMPERIAL DAÏS IN THE CHIAO-TAL HALL.
_Photo, Ogawa, Tokio._]
II
THE FLIGHT TO JEHOL
The causes and history of the invasion of North China by the allied
forces of England and France are too well known to need re-stating here,
but the part played by Yehonala in the stirring days which preceded
and followed the flight to Jehol are not familiar to European readers.
Most interesting details are given on this subject by a certain Doctor
of Letters and member of the Hanlin Academy, whose diary was printed
privately in narrative form several years later, and from this document
the following extracts are taken. It was originally entitled “A Record
of Grief Incurable” and, as will be noted, it is primarily a monument of
filial piety, into which the doings of the barbarians, and the already
dominant personality of Yehonala, are artlessly interwoven, with a
certain quality of sincerity that attracts. The narrative itself is full
of human interest.
“In the 7th Moon of the ‘Keng Shen’ year (August 1860), five or
six days after my mother fell sick, rumours began to circulate
that the barbarians had already reached Taku. It was generally
known that many Memorials had reached the Throne from the
metropolitan and provincial officials, but as no mention of
them had appeared in the Gazette, it was only natural that
there should be a very widespread feeling of uneasiness and
many alarming rumours. So far, however, there had been no
fleeing from the city. His Majesty was seriously ill, and
it was known that he wished to leave for the north, but the
Imperial Concubine Yi and Prince Seng dissuaded him from this
and assured him that the barbarians would never enter the city.
“At this time my mother was suffering from dysentery, but
she ordered the servants to keep it from me. It was only one
day, when I noticed a prescription lying on her table, that I
realised that she was indeed seriously ill. Doctor Liu was in
attendance, as usual, but I never had any confidence in him or
his methods, which seemed to me far too drastic. Nevertheless
he had advised and attended her for seven years, and my mother
and all her household placed implicit confidence in him.
Alas, the Ancients have rightly said that a good son should
know something of the principles of medicine, and surely my
ignorance has been the first cause of my mother’s death. Though
I should give up my life a hundred times, how can I ever atone
for this?
“During the next few days, people began to leave Peking, for
the report was spread that our troops had been defeated at
Taku, and that a Brigadier General was among the slain; the
garrison had fled from Pei T’ang and the forts were in the
hands of the barbarians. Prince Seng had been ordered by
Edict not to fight a pitched battle, so that our forces were
idly confronting the enemy. Nothing definite was known as to
the real cause of our defeat, and the people, being kept in
ignorance, gradually got over their first alarm.
“On the 13th of the 7th Moon, I noticed a change for the worse
in my mother’s condition, and straightway applied for ten days’
leave of absence from my official duties. I kept her ignorant
of the political situation and urged her to abstain from worry
of every kind. But every-day the news was worse, and people
began to leave the city in thousands.
“On the following day, Magistrate Li Min-chai looked in to say
good-bye, as he was leaving to join the troops in Anhui. He
expressed strong disapproval of Dr. Liu’s prescription and gave
me one of his own. My mother was averse to taking his medicine,
but I persuaded her to do so. In the night she was suddenly
seized with shortness of breath, and hastily I sent for Mr. Li,
who assured me that this was in no way due to his medicine.
My mother, however, insisted upon returning to Dr. Liu’s
prescription, so all I could do was to urge him to compound
it of drugs less strong and more suited to a patient of my
mother’s advanced years.
“My mother then bade me to prepare her coffin as she was
certain that her death was near. Fortunately I had bought
the wood eight years before at Mukden, and had stored it in
a coffin shop in Peking, whence I now had it fetched. We set
carpenters to work in our court-yard, and by the 20th, the
coffin was finished. The wood was beautifully thick, and the
whole appearance of the coffin most creditable. Never could
I have expected that at such a time of haste and general
disorder so perfect a piece of work could have been produced.
The carpenters assured me that at the present time such a
coffin would cost at least a thousand taels in Peking.[2] This
comforted me not a little.
“Next morning the lacquer shop people sent over to put on the
first coating of lacquer, in which at least two pounds were
used. We then sent for the tailor and six assistants to make
the grave clothes and purchased the materials for my mother’s
ceremonial ‘going away dress.’ I had a long sable robe made
up, but next day, as my mother appeared to be slightly better,
I decided to postpone having the long outer robes prepared.
Rumours were now rife that the barbarians had already reached
T’ungchou, and were going to bombard Peking on the 27th, so
that everyone was escaping who could leave the city. On the
27th, we put on the second coating of lacquer.
“On that day, our troops captured the barbarian leader
Pa Hsia-li (Parkes) together with eight others, who were
imprisoned in the Board of Punishments. Thereupon the whole
city was in an uproar, and it became known that His Majesty was
preparing to leave on a tour northwards. But the Concubine Yi
persuaded some of the older officials to memorialise, urging
him to remain, none of which Memorials have been published.
All the Manchu and Chinese officials were now sending their
families away and their valuables, but the large shops outside
the main gate were doing business as usual. My mother’s
condition remained much the same, and I applied for another ten
days’ leave.
“On the 1st of the 8th Moon, we applied another coating of
lacquer to the coffin. On the same day Dr. Liu changed my
mother’s medicine, but, the dysentery continued unabated.
“On the 4th my mother called me to her bedside and said: ‘I
cannot possibly recover. See that all is prepared for the
burial. I shall take no food to-day.’ I felt as if a knife had
been thrust into my vitals, and sent straightway for the tailor
to hurry on with the ceremonial robes. My friend, P’an Yu-shih,
called and recommended a purgative, but my mother was very
angry, and refused point-blank to take it. In the night she had
a violent attack of vomiting, which seemed to relieve her—so
much so, that I told the tailor not to be in too great a hurry.
Next morning the robes were finished, but my mother thought
the coverlet too heavy, and I substituted therefor a lighter
material, silk. To this she objected as being too luxurious and
more expensive than she had any right to expect; she observed
that her parents-in-law had not had grave-wrappings of such
valuable stuff. Meanwhile the confusion in Peking was hourly
increasing, and huge crowds were hurrying from the city. Most
of the city gates were closed for fear of the barbarians, but
the ‘Chang-yi’ gate in the southern city was still open.
“On the 7th, our troops engaged the barbarians outside the Ch’i
Hua gate. The van was composed of untrained Mongol cavalry,
who had never been in action. No sooner had the barbarians
opened fire than they turned as one man, broke their ranks and
stampeded upon the infantry in their rear. Many were trampled
to death, and a general rout followed, our men fleeing in every
direction and the barbarians pressing on to the city walls.
“Certain Princes and Ministers besought the Concubine Yi to
induce the Emperor to leave on a tour. His Majesty was only too
anxious to start at once, but the Concubine Yi persuaded two
of the Grand Secretaries to memorialise against his doing so,
and in response to this a Decree was issued stating that under
no circumstances would the Emperor leave his capital. Another
Decree was put out by the Concubine Yi offering large rewards
to any who should slay the barbarians. It was generally
thought that the Emperor would now forgo his intended departure.
“Early next morning we heard the news of another engagement
outside the Ch’i Hua gate, upon which news His Sacred Majesty,
attended by all his concubines, the Princes, Ministers and
Dukes, and all the officers of the Household, left the city
in a desperate rout and disorder unspeakable, affording a
spectacle that gave the impression that hordes of barbarians
were already in close pursuit. As a matter of fact, the
foreigners were still at a considerable distance, and at
the Summer Palace, where the Court lay, there was nothing
whatsoever to cause the slightest apprehension. I cannot
understand why His Majesty was allowed to leave; up to the
very last the Yi Concubine begged him to remain in his Palace,
as his presence there could not fail to awe the barbarians,
and thus to exercise a protecting influence for the good of
the city and people. How, said she, could the barbarians be
expected to spare the city if the Sacred Chariot had fled,
leaving unprotected the tutelary shrines and the altars of the
gods? She begged him to bear in mind that episode in the Chou
Dynasty, when the Son of Heaven fled his capital, ‘his head
covered with dust,’ and was forced to take refuge with one of
his feudatory Princes. The Chinese people have always regarded
this as a humiliating event in the history of their country,
but the present flight of the Court appears more humiliating
still.
“Meantime my mother’s condition was becoming critical, and I
had scant leisure for considering the political situation.
Every official of any standing had either left the capital
by this time or was leaving, and all the merchants who could
afford it were sending their families away. The cost of
transport was prohibitive for many; the price of a cart with
one mule to go to Cho-chou was twenty taels, and to Pao-ting fu
(60 miles) they charged thirty taels. In my case there could be
no question of removing my mother, and there was nothing for it
therefore but to sit still and face the situation.