At Jehol, removed from the direct influence of his brothers, and

enfeebled by sickness, the Emperor had gradually fallen under the

domination of the Prince Yi (Tsai Yüan) with whom were associated, as

Grand Councillors, the Prince Tuan Hua and the Imperial Clansman Su

Shun. These three, recognising that the Emperor’s end was near and that

a Regency would be necessary, determined on securing the power for

themselves. Prince Yi was nominally the leader of this conspiracy, but

its instigator and leading spirit was Su Shun. Tuan Hua, whose family

title was Prince Cheng, was the head of one of the eight princely

Manchu families, descended in the direct line from Nurhachu’s brother.

Su Shun was foster-brother to this Prince. In his youth he was a

conspicuous figure in the capital, famous for his Mohawk tendencies, a

wild blade, addicted to hawking and riotous living. He had originally

been recommended to the notice of the Emperor by the two Princes and

soon won his way into the dissolute monarch’s confidence and goodwill.

From a junior post in the Board of Revenue, he rose rapidly, becoming

eventually an Assistant Grand Secretary, in which capacity he attained

an unenviable reputation for avarice and cruelty. He had made himself

hated and feared by persuading the Emperor to order the decapitation of

his chief, the Grand Secretary Po Chun,[4] on the pretext that he had

shown favouritism as Chief Examiner for the Metropolitan Degree,—the real

reason being that he had offended the two Princes by his uncompromising

honesty and blunt speech. It was at this period that he first came

into conflict with the young Yehonala, who, dreading the man’s growing

influence with the Emperor, endeavoured to counteract it, and at the same

time to save the life of the Grand Secretary; she failed in the attempt,

and Su Shun’s position became the stronger for her failure. All those who

opposed him were speedily banished or degraded. The Court was terrified,

especially when it was realised that Yehonala was out of favour, and Su

Shun took care to give them real and frequent cause for alarm. At his

instance, all the Secretaries of the Board of Revenue were cashiered on

a charge of making illicit profits by cornering the cash market. The

charge was possibly well-founded, since such proceedings are part of a

Metropolitan official’s recognised means of subsistence, but coming from

the notoriously corrupt Su Shun, it was purely vindictive, as was shown

by his subsequent action; for upon this charge he obtained the arrest of

over a hundred notables and rich merchants whom he kept in custody of

no gentle kind until they had ransomed themselves with enormous sums.

Thus was founded the great fortune which enabled him to conspire with

the Princes Yi and Cheng[5] for the supreme power, and which led him

eventually to his ruin. To this day, many of his millions lie in the

Palace vaults, to which they were carried after his impeachment and

death—millions carefully hoarded by Tzŭ Hsi and buried during the Court’s

flight and exile in 1900.

It was chiefly because of the advice of Su Shun that the Emperor fled his

capital at the approach of the Allies, in spite of the urgent appeals

of Yehonala and the Grand Council. By his advice also most of the high

officials and Metropolitan Ministers were prevented from accompanying the

Court, by which means the conspirators were able to exercise steadily

increasing influence over the Emperor, and to prevent other advice

reaching him. It was only the supreme courage and intelligent grasp of

the situation shown by Yehonala, that frustrated the conspiracy at its

most critical moment. Immediately after the death of the Emperor, and

while the plotters were still undecided as to their final plans, she sent

an urgent message secretly to Prince Kung which brought him with all

speed to Jehol, where, by the help of Jung Lu and other loyal servants,

she put into execution the bold plan which defeated the conspiracy and

placed her at the head of China’s government. On the day when, the game

hopelessly lost, the usurping Regents found themselves in Yehonala’s

hands and heard her order their summary trial by the Court of the

Imperial Clan, Su Shun turned to his colleagues and bitterly reproached

them. “Had you but taken my advice and slain this woman,” he said, “we

should not have been in this plight to-day.”

To return, however, to the beginning of the conspiracy. At the outset,

the object of Prince Yi was to alienate the Emperor from the influence of

his favourite concubine, Yehonala. With this object they informed him of

the intrigue which, by common report, she was carrying on with the young

Officer of the Guards, Jung Lu, then a handsome athletic man of about

twenty-five. The Empress Consort they regarded as a negligible factor,

whose good-natured and colourless personality took little interest in

the politics of the day; but if their plot was to succeed, Yehonala

must either be dismissed from the Court for good and all, or, at the

very least, she must be temporarily relegated to the “Cold Palace,”

as is called the place where insubordinate or disgraced concubines

are isolated. They knew that, however successful their plans at Jehol,

there must always be danger in the event of the Emperor returning to

Peking, where access to his person is not possible at all times for

officials (even those nearest to the Throne), whereas Yehonala would be

in a position, with the help of her eunuchs, to recover his favour and

her power. Emphasising, therefore, the alleged misconduct of the young

concubine, they quoted the precedent of a certain Empress Consort of

Ch’ien-Lung who, for less grievous disrespect (shown to the Emperor’s

mother), was imprisoned for life. Thus, by inventions and suggestions,

they so worked on the sick man’s mind that he finally consented to

have Yehonala’s infant son, the Heir Apparent, removed from her care,

and authorised the child’s being handed over to the wife of Prince Yi,

who was summoned to the hunting-lodge Palace for that purpose. At the

same time, the conspirators thought it well to denounce Prince Kung

to the Emperor, his brother, accusing him of treachery, of conniving

with the foreigners against the Throne, and of abusing his powers as

Plenipotentiary. Prince Yi had been for years Prince Kung’s sworn enemy.

The further intentions of the conspirators, instigated by Su Shun, were

to massacre all Europeans in the capital and to put to death, or at least

imprison for life, the Emperor’s brothers. Accordingly they drafted in

advance the Decrees necessary to justify and explain these measures,

intending to publish them immediately after the Emperor’s death, which

was now imminent. But here an unforeseen obstacle presented itself,

the first of many created for them by the far-seeing intelligence of

Yehonala; for they found that she had somehow managed to possess herself

of the special seal, which inviolable custom requires to be affixed to

the first Edict of a new reign, in proof of validity of succession,—a

seal, in the personal custody of the Emperor, which bears the characters

meaning “lawfully transmitted authority.” Without this seal, any Decrees

which the usurpers might issue would lack something of legal finality

and, according to Chinese ideas, their subsequent cancellation would be

justifiable. But Prince Yi did not feel himself strong enough to risk a

crisis by accusing her or taking overt steps to gain possession of it.

Angry with his favourite concubine by reason of the reports of her

intimacy with Jung Lu, and his sickness ever increasing, the Emperor

lingered on in Jehol all the summer of that year, his duty in the

ancestral sacrifices at Peking being taken by Prince Kung. On the 4th

of the 6th Moon, the day before his thirtieth birthday, he issued the

following Decree in reply to a Memorial by the Court of Astronomers,

which had announced an auspicious conjunction of the stars for the

occasion:—

“Last month the Astronomers announced the appearance of a comet

in the north-west, which intimation we received as a solemn

warning of the impending wrath of Heaven. Now they memorialise

saying that the stars are in favourable conjunction, which is

doubtless a true statement, in no way inspired by their desire

to please us. But since we came to the Throne, we have steadily

refused to pay any attention to auspicious omens, and this with

good reason, in view of the ever-increasing rebellions in the

south and the generally pitiable condition of our people. May

the present auspicious conjunction of the stars portend the

dawning of a happier day, and may heaven permit a speedy end

to the rebellion. In token of our sincerity, we desire that

the Astronomical Court shall refrain from reporting to the

Chronicler’s Office the present favourable omen for inclusion

in the annals of our reign, so that there may be ascribed to us

the merit of a devout and sober mind.”

On the following morning the Emperor received the congratulations of his

Court in a pavilion of the Palace grounds, but Yehonala was excluded from

this ceremony. This was His Majesty’s last appearance in public; from

this date his illness became rapidly worse.

On the 7th of the 7th Moon Yehonala contrived to despatch a secret

courier to Prince Kung at Peking, informing him of the critical condition

of his brother and urging him to send with all haste a detachment

of the Banner Corps to which the Yehonala clan belonged. Events now

moved swiftly. On the 16th, the Grand Councillors and Ministers of the

Presence, all adherents of Tsai Yüan’s faction, entered the Emperor’s

bedroom and, after excluding the Empress Consort and the concubines,

persuaded the Emperor to sign Decrees appointing Tsai Yüan, Tuan Hua and

Su Shun to be Co-Regents upon his decease, with full powers. Yehonala was

to be expressly forbidden from exercising any form of control over the

Heir Apparent. As the necessary seal of State had been taken by Yehonala

and could not be found, these proceedings were irregular. At dawn on

the following day the Emperor died, and forthwith appeared the usual

valedictory Decree, prepared in advance by the conspirators, whereby

Tsai Yüan was appointed to be Chief Regent, Prince Kung and the Empress

Consort being entirely ignored.

In the name of the new Emperor, then a child of five, a Decree was

issued, announcing his succession, but it was observed to violate

all constitutional precedent in that it omitted the proper laudatory

references to the Imperial Consort. On the following day, however, the

Regents, fearing to precipitate matters, rectified the omission in an

Edict which conferred the rank of Empress Dowager both on the Empress

Consort and on Yehonala. The chroniclers aver that the reason for this

step lay in the Regents’ recognition of Yehonala’s undoubted popularity

with the troops (all Manchus) at Jehol, an argument that weighed more

heavily with them than her rights as mother of the Heir Apparent. They

hoped to rid themselves of this condition of affairs after the Court’s

return to Peking, but dared not risk internal dissensions by having her

removed until their positions had been made secure at the capital. That

they intended to remove her was subsequently proved; it was evident

that their position would never be secure so long as her ambitious and

magnetic personality remained a factor of the situation: but it was

necessary, in the first instance, to ascertain the effect of the Regency

at Peking and in the provinces.

Tsai Yüan’s next move was to publish Decrees, in the names of the Joint

Regents, by virtue of which they assumed charge of the Heir Apparent

and by which the title of “Chien Kuo” (practically equivalent to

Dictator) was conferred on the Chief Regent, a title heretofore reserved

exclusively for brothers or uncles of the Emperor.

When the news reached Peking, a flood of Memorials burst from the

Censorate and high officials. The child Emperor was implored to confer

the Regency upon the two Empresses, or, as the Chinese text has it, to

“administer the Government with suspended curtain.”[6] Prince Kung and

the Emperor’s other brothers were at this time in secret correspondence

with Yehonala, whom they, like the Censorate, had already recognised as

the master-mind of the Forbidden City. They urged her to do all in her

power to expedite the departure of the funeral cortège for the capital.

To secure this end, it was necessary to proceed with the greatest caution

and diplomacy, for several of the late Emperor’s wives had been won over

to the side of the usurpers, who could also count on a certain number

of the Manchu bodyguard, their own clansmen. The influence of Su Shun’s

great fortune was also no inconsiderable factor in the situation. The

man was personally unpopular with the people of Peking, because of his

abuse of power and too frequent connection with speculations in bank-note

issues and cash, which cost the citizens dear, but his vaults were known

to be full to over-flowing, and there is no city in the world where

money buys more political supporters than in Peking. Su Shun’s career has

had its counterpart, in everything except its sanguinary dénouement, in

the capital to-day.

[Illustration: HER MAJESTY TZŬ HSI IN THE YEAR 1903.]

At the moment the position of the Emperor’s family was prejudiced, and

the aims of the conspirators assisted, by the political situation. With

the capital occupied by foreign troops, and many of the provinces in the

throes of a great rebellion, the people might be expected to welcome a

change of rulers, and the ripe experience of the usurping Regents in all

matters of State was undeniable. But the virile and untiring energies of

Yehonala, ably supported by Jung Lu and other faithful followers, soon

put a new complexion on affairs, and the situation was further modified

in her favour by the success of her nominee, the Commander-in-Chief,

Tseng Kuo-fan, in capturing the city of An-ch’ing (in Anhui) from the

rebels, a victory that was regarded as of good augury to her cause.

Thereafter her courage and diplomacy enabled her to play off one opponent

against another, gaining time and friends until the conspirators’

chance was gone. Her own aims and ambitions, which had been voiced by

her friends in the Censorate, were, however, to some extent impeded by

the fact that a House-law of the Dynasty forbids the administration of

the Government by an Empress Dowager, while there were quite recent

precedents for a Regency by a Board, in the cases of the Emperors

Shun-Chih and K’ang-Hsi. In neither of these instances had the Empress

Tai-Tsung had any voice in the Government. The precedent for Boards of

official Regents had, however, come to be recognised as inauspicious,

because the several Regents of K’ang-Hsi’s minority had either been

banished or compelled to commit suicide. It is probable, too, that Prince

Kung, in instigating and supporting the claims of the Empresses, failed

to appreciate Yehonala’s strength of character, and believed that a

women’s Regency would leave the supreme power in his own hands.

A Manchu, who accompanied the flight to Jehol, describing his

experiences, lays stress upon Yehonala’s unfailing courage and personal

charm of manner, to which was due her popularity with the Imperial Guards

and her eventual triumph. At the most critical period of the conspiracy

she was careful to avoid precipitating a conflict or arousing the

suspicions of the usurpers by openly conferring with Jung Lu, and she

employed as her confidential intermediary the eunuch An Te-hai (of whom

more will be heard later). By means of this man daily reports were safely

despatched to Prince Kung at Peking, and, in the meanwhile, Yehonala

affected an attitude of calm indifference, treating Prince Yi with a

studied deference which lulled his suspicions.

On the 11th of the 8th Moon, the Board of Regents, after meeting to

discuss the situation, issued a Decree condemning in strong terms a

proposal put forward in a Memorial by the Censor, Tung Yüan-ch’un, that

the two Empresses should be appointed Co-Regents, and referring to the

death-bed Decree of the late Emperor as their own warrant of authority.

At the same time they announced, in the name of the young Emperor, that

the funeral cortège would start on its journey to the capital on the

second day of the next Moon. This was the step for which Yehonala had

been working and waiting. As Ministers of the Presence, the Regents were

perforce obliged to accompany the coffin throughout the entire journey

(some 150 miles) to the capital, and the great weight of the catafalque,

borne by one hundred and twenty men, would necessarily render the rate

of progress very slow through the stony defiles of the hills. Resting

places would have to be provided at stages of about fifteen miles along

the route to shelter the Imperial remains and the attendant officials

by night, so that the Regents might count on a journey of ten days at

least, and longer in the event of bad weather. To the Empresses, the

slow progress of the cortège was a matter of vital advantage, inasmuch

as they were not to take part in the procession, and, travelling ahead

of it, could reach the capital in five days with swift chair-bearers.

Dynastic custom and Court etiquette prescribe that upon the departure of

the funeral procession, the new Emperor and the consorts of the deceased

sovereign should offer prayers and libations, and should then press on

so as to be ready to perform similar acts of reverence on meeting the

cortège at its destination. Yehonala thus found herself in a position of

great strategic advantage, being enabled to reach the capital well in

advance of her enemies, and she speedily laid her plans with Prince Kung

to give them a warm reception.

Tsai Yüan and his colleagues were well aware that they were placed at

grave disadvantage in having to remain behind the young Empress, with

every prospect of serious trouble ahead; they, therefore, decided to

have Yehonala and the Empress Consort assassinated on the road, and to

that end gave orders that they should be escorted by the Chief Regent’s

personal bodyguard. Had it not been for Jung Lu, who got wind of the

plot, the Dowagers would assuredly never have reached the capital alive.

Acting with the promptitude which Yehonala inspired, he deserted the

funeral cortège by night with a considerable following of his own men,

and hastened on to the protection of the Empresses, overtaking them

before they reached Ku-pei K’ou, at the end of the pass from the plains

into Mongolia, which was the spot where the assassination was to have

taken place.

Heavy rains had fallen just after the departure of the procession from

Jehol. The roads became impassable, and the Empresses were compelled to

seek shelter in the Long Mountain gorge, where no sort of accommodation

had been provided. The cortège was then ten miles in their rear.

Yehonala, mindful ever of the proprieties, sent back several men of her

escort with a dutiful enquiry, in the name of her colleague and herself,

as to the safety of the Imperial coffin. The reply, in the form of an

Edict by Prince Yi and his Co-Regents, reported that the catafalque had

reached the first resting place in safety; whereupon Yehonala, asserting

as of right the prerogatives of supreme authority, donated to the bearers

a thousand taels from her Privy Purse in recognition of their arduous

services. Prince Yi, knowing full well that his own danger was increasing

every hour, and would continue so long as the Empresses remained free to

work against him, nevertheless played bravely the part prescribed for

him, conforming in the grand manner to the traditions of his position.

He forwarded a Memorial to the Empresses, humbly thanking them for their

solicitude for the Emperor’s remains. Yehonala, in reply, praised him for

his faithful devotion to duty. Thus, on the road to Death, they played

at Etiquette. Both these documents are filed in the Dynastic records

and afford remarkable evidence of the supreme importance which Chinese

and Manchus alike attach to forms and the written word even at the most

critical moments. Similar instances could be cited at the height of the

Boxer chaos.

The rains having ceased, the Empresses were able to proceed on their

journey, and having come safely through the hill passes under Jung Lu’s

protection, they were free from further danger of ambush. They reached

Peking on the 29th of the 9th Moon, three full days’ journey ahead of the

procession. Immediately upon their arrival a secret Council was held, at

which were present the Emperor’s brothers, together with the Ministers

and Imperial clansmen known to be loyal to their cause. Long and

anxiously did they confer. Although the Empress Mother was in possession

of the seal of legitimate succession, there was no known precedent for

so drastic a step as the summary, and possibly violent, arrest of high

officers of State convoying the Imperial coffin. Such a course, it was

felt, would be regarded as disrespectful to the late Emperor and an

inauspicious opening to the new reign. The consensus of opinion was,

therefore, on the side of slow and cautious measures, and it was decided

thus to proceed, conforming to all the outward observances of dynastic

tradition. The coffin once arrived, the first step would be to deprive

the Regents of their usurped authority; the rest would follow.

The cortège was due to arrive at the north-west gate of the city on

the morning of the 2nd of the 10th Moon, and on the previous evening

Prince Kung posted a large force of troops at this point to prevent any

attempt at a _coup de main_ by Tsai Yüan’s followers. The boy Emperor,

accompanied by the Empresses Dowager, came out to meet the coffin as it

approached the city, and with him were the late Emperor’s brothers and a

great following of officials. As the catafalque passed through the gate,

the Imperial party knelt and performed the prescribed acts of reverence.

Before the coffin came the Imperial insignia, and behind it a large

body of Manchu cavalry. Prince Yi and his Co-Regents, having performed

their duty in bringing the coffin safely to the city, next proceeded, as

required by custom, to make formal report in person to the young Emperor,

upon fulfilment of their charge. For this purpose they were received

in a large marquee erected just inside the city gate. Both Empresses

were present, together with the late Emperor’s brothers and the Grand

Secretaries Kuei Liang and Chou Tsu-p’ei.

Yehonala, calmly assuming, as was her wont, the principal _rôle_ and all

attributes of authority, opened the proceedings by informing Prince Yi

that the Empress Consort and she herself were grateful to him and to his

colleagues for the services which they had rendered as Regents and Grand

Councillors, of which duties they were now relieved. Prince Yi, putting

a bold face on it, replied that he himself was Chief Regent, legally

appointed, that the Empresses had no power to divest him of authority

properly conferred by the late Emperor, and that, during the minority of

the new Emperor, neither she herself nor any other person was entitled to

attend audience without his express permission.

“We shall see about that,” said Yehonala, and forthwith gave orders

to the attendant guards to place the three Regents under arrest. The

Imperial party then hastened to the Palace to be ready to meet the coffin

upon its arrival at the main entrance to the Forbidden City, for, however

acute the crisis, the dead take precedence of the living in China. The

deposed Regents quietly followed. All hope of escape or resistance was

out of the question, for the streets were lined with troops faithful to

Yehonala’s cause. Her triumph was complete, essentially a triumph of

mind over matter. It was her first taste of the pomp and circumstance of

supreme power.

Forthwith the Empresses proceeded to regularise their position by issuing

the following Decree, which bore the Great Seal of “Lawfully transmitted

authority”:—

“Last year the coasts of our Empire were disturbed and our

capital was in danger, misfortunes entirely due to the

mismanagement of affairs by the Princes and Ministers to whom

they had been entrusted. Prince Yi (Tsai Yüan) in particular

and his colleagues failed to deal satisfactorily with the

peace negotiations, and sought to lessen their responsibility

by their treacherous arrest of the British emissaries, thus

involving China in charges of bad faith. In consequence of

these their acts, the Summer Palace was eventually sacked by

the British and French troops and the Emperor was forced,

greatly against his will, to seek refuge in Jehol.

China under the Empress Dowager · 第 3 / 44 段