were able to arrange matters satisfactorily, and peace was
restored to the capital. Thereupon His late Majesty repeatedly
summoned the Grand Council to decide upon a date for his return
to Peking, but Tsai Yüan, Su Shun and Tuan Hua conspired
together, and, by making him believe that England and France
were not sincere in regard to peace, were able to prevent his
return and thus to oppose the will of the people.
“Subsequently His Majesty’s health suffered severely from
the cold climate of Jehol and from his arduous labours and
anxiety, so that he died on the 17th of the 7th Moon. Our
sorrow was even as a burning fire, and when we consider how
wickedly deceitful has been the conduct of Tsai Yüan and his
colleagues, we feel that the whole Empire must unite in their
condemnation. On ascending the Throne, it was our intention
to punish them, but we kept in mind the fact that to them
the Emperor had given his valedictory instructions, and we
therefore forbore, whilst observing carefully their behaviour.
Who could possibly have foretold their misdeeds?
“On the 11th of the 8th Moon, a Memorial was presented to us by
the Censor Tung Yüan-ch’un, at an audience of the eight Grand
Councillors, in which it was asked that the Empresses Dowager
should for the time being, and during our minority, administer
the Government, that one or two of the Princes should advise
them and that a high official should be appointed as tutor to
ourselves. These suggestions met with our entire approval.
It is true that there exists no precedent in the history of
our Dynasty for an Empress Dowager to act as Regent, but the
interests of the State are our first concern, and it is surely
wiser to act in accordance with the exigencies of the time than
to insist upon a scrupulous observance of precedent.[7]
“We therefore authorised Tsai Yüan to issue a Decree concurring
in the Censor’s proposals; but he and his colleagues adopted
an insolent tone towards us and forgot the reverence due to
our person. While pretending to comply with our wishes, they
issued a Decree quite different from that which we had ordered,
and promulgated it in our name. What was their object? They
professed to have no idea of usurping our authority, but what
else was their action but usurpation?
“Undoubtedly they took advantage of our extreme youth and of
the Empresses’ lack of experience in statecraft, their object
being to hoodwink us. But how could they hope to hoodwink the
entire nation? Their behaviour displays monstrous ingratitude
for His late Majesty’s favours, and any further leniency on
our part would be a just cause of offence to the memory of
the departed sovereign, and an insult to the intelligence of
the Chinese people. Tsai Yüan, Su Shun and Tuan Hua are hereby
removed from their posts. Ching Shou, Mu Yin, Kuang Tu-han and
Chiao Yu-ying are removed from the Grand Council. Let Prince
Kung, in consultation with the Grand Secretaries, the six
Boards and the nine Ministries consider, and report to us as to
the proper punishment to be inflicted upon them, in proportion
to their respective offences. As regards the manner in which
the Empresses shall administer the Government as Regents, let
this also be discussed and a Memorial submitted in reference to
future procedure.”
The Empresses duly performed the proper obeisances to the Imperial coffin
at the eastern gate of the Palace, escorting it thence to its temporary
resting place in the central Throne Hall.
In the security of Peking, and confident of the devotion of the troops,
Yehonala now proceeded to act more boldly. She issued a second Decree in
her own name and that of the Empress Consort, ordering that the three
principal conspirators be handed over to the Imperial Clansmen’s Court
for the determination of a severe penalty. Pending the investigation,
which was to be carried out under the Presidency of Prince Kung, they
were to be stripped of all their titles and rank. The vindictive autocrat
of the years to come speaks for the first time in this Edict.
“Their audacity in questioning our right to give audience
to Prince Kung this morning shows a degree of wickedness
inconceivable, and convicts them of the darkest designs. The
punishment so far meted out to them is totally inadequate to
the depth of their guilt.”
Against Su Shun, in particular, the Empress’s wrath burned fiercely. His
wife had insulted her in the days of her disgrace at Jehol, and Yehonala
had ever a good memory for insults. Next morning she issued the following
Decree for his especial benefit:—
“Because of Su Shun’s high treason, his wanton usurpation of
authority, his acceptance of bribes and generally unspeakable
wickedness, we commanded that he be degraded and arrested by
the Imperial Clansmen’s Court. But on receipt of the Decree,
Su Shun dared to make use of blasphemous language in regard
to ourselves, forgetful of the inviolable relation between
Sovereign and subject. Our hair stands on end with horror at
such abominable treason. Moreover he has dared to allow his
wife and family to accompany him, when on duty accompanying
the Imperial coffin from Jehol, which is a most disgraceful
violation of all precedent.[8] The whole of his property, both
at Peking and at Jehol, is therefore confiscated, and no mercy
shall be shown him.”
As Su Shun’s property was worth several millions sterling at the lowest
estimate, the Empress Dowager thus acquired at one stroke the sinews of
war and a substantial nucleus for that treasure hoard which henceforward
was to be one of the main objects of her ambition, and a chief source
of her power. During the present Dynasty there is a record of one
official wealthier than Su Shun, namely Ho Sh’en, a Grand Secretary under
Ch’ien Lung, whose property was similarly confiscated by that Emperor’s
successor.
But Yehonala’s lust of vengeance was not yet appeased. Her next Decree,
issued on the following day, gives evidence of that acquisitive faculty,
that tendency to accumulate property and to safeguard it with housewifely
thrift, which distinguished her to the end:—
“Su Shun was erecting for himself a Palace at Jehol, which is
not yet completed. Doubtless he has vast stores of treasure
there. Doubtless also he has buried large sums of gold and
silver somewhere in the vicinity of his Jehol residence, in
anticipation of the possible discovery of his crimes. Let all
his property in Jehol be carefully inventoried, when a Decree
will be issued as to its disposal. Let all his property be
carefully searched for treasure, to be handed over when found.
Any attempt at concealment by the Jehol authorities will entail
upon them the same punishment as that which is to be inflicted
upon Su Shun.”
On the 6th of the 10th Moon, Prince Kung and the Imperial Commission
sent in their report on the quite perfunctory enquiry into the charges
against Tsai Yüan and the other conspirators. In the following Decree the
offenders were finally disposed of:—
“The Memorial of our Imperial Commission recommends that, in
accordance with the law applying to cases of high treason,
the punishment of dismemberment and the lingering death be
inflicted upon Tsai Yüan, Tuan Hua and Su Shun. Our Decrees
have already been issued describing their abominable plot and
their usurpation of the Regency.
“On the day of His late Majesty’s death, these three traitors
claimed to have been appointed a Council of Regency, but, as a
matter of fact, His late Majesty, just before his death, had
commanded them to appoint us his successor, without giving
them any orders whatsoever as to their being Regents. This
title they proceeded to arrogate to themselves, even daring
to issue orders in that capacity and without the formality of
our Decree. Moreover they disobeyed the personal and express
orders given them by the Empresses Dowager. When the Censor
Tung Yüan-ch’un petitioned that the Empresses should assume
the government, they not only dared to alter the Decree which
we issued in reply, but they openly asserted at audience
their claim to be our Regents and their refusal to obey the
Empresses. If, said they, they chose to permit the Empresses to
see Memorials, this was more than their duty required. In fact,
their insubordination and violent rudeness found expression in
a hundred ways. In forbidding us to give audience to our uncles
and to the Grand Secretaries, they evidently meant to set us at
variance with our kindred. The above remarks apply equally to
all three traitors.
“As to Su Shun, he insolently dared to seat himself upon the
Imperial Throne. He would enter the Palace precincts unbidden,
and whether on duty or not. He went so far as to use the
Imperial porcelain and furniture for his own purposes, even
refusing to hand over certain articles that we required for
ourselves. He actually demanded an audience with the Empresses
separately, and his words, when addressing them, indicated a
cunning desire to set one Empress against the other, and to sow
seeds of discord. These remarks apply to the individual guilt
of Su Shun.
“Her Majesty the Empress Dowager, and Her Sacred Majesty the
Empress Dowager, our mother, duly informed the Commission of
Enquiry of these facts, and they have to-day given audience
to all the Princes and Ministers to enquire of them whether
the guilt of these three traitors admits of any extenuating
circumstances. It is unanimously determined that the law
allows of no leniency being shown to such flagrant treason
and wickedness as theirs. When we reflect that three members
of our Imperial kindred have thus rendered themselves liable
to a common felon’s death in the public square, our eyes are
filled with tears. But all these their misdeeds, in usurping
the Regency, have involved our tutelary deities in the direst
peril, and it is not only to ourselves but to our illustrious
ancestors that they must answer for their damnable treason.
No doubt they thought that, come what may, they were sure of
pardon, because of their having received the mandate of His
late Majesty, but they forgot that the mandate which they
have claimed was never legally issued, and if we were now to
pardon them we should render the law of no effect for all time
and prove unfaithful to the trust reposed in us by our late
father. The punishment of dismemberment and the lingering
death, which the Commission recommends, is indeed the proper
punishment for their crimes, but the House-law of our Dynasty
permits of leniency being shown, to a certain extent, to
members of the Imperial Family. Therefore, although, strictly
speaking, their crimes allow of no indulgence, we decide that
they shall not suffer the penalty of public disgrace. In token
of our leniency, Tsai Yüan and Tuan Hua are hereby permitted
to commit suicide, and Prince Su and Mien Sen are ordered to
proceed forthwith to the ‘Empty Chamber,’[9] and command the
immediate fulfilment of this order. It is not from any feeling
of friendliness towards these traitors that we allow this, but
simply to preserve the dignity of our Imperial family.
“As to Su Shun, his treasonable guilt far exceeds that of
his accomplices, and he fully deserves the punishment of
dismemberment and the slicing process, if only that the law may
be vindicated and public indignation satisfied. But we cannot
make up our mind to impose this extreme penalty and therefore,
in our clemency, we sentence him to immediate decapitation,
commanding Prince Jui and Tsai Liang to superintend his
execution, as a warning to all traitors and rebels.”
NOTE.—The hereditary Princedoms of Yi and Cheng which were forfeited
by the conspiring Princes after the death of Hsien-Feng, in 1861, were
restored by the Empresses Regent to commemorate their thanksgiving at the
suppression of the Taiping rebellion and the recapture of Nanking (1864).
In an Edict on the subject, Tzŭ Hsi recalled the fact that the original
patent of the Princedom of Yi was given to a son of the Emperor K’ang-Hsi
in 1723 and was to endure, according to the word of that Monarch, until
“the T’ai Mountain dwindles to the size of a grindstone, and the Yellow
River shrinks to the width of a girdle.” After referring to the main
features of the Tsai Yüan conspiracy and the guilt of the traitors, Tzŭ
Hsi proceeded “We permitted these Princes to commit suicide because they
were ungrateful to ourselves, and had brought disrepute on the good name
of their ancestors. If these are now conscious of their descendants’
misdeeds, while they wander beside the Nine Springs,[10] how great
must be the anguish of their souls! At the time we were advised by our
Princes and Ministers of State, to put an end for ever to these Princely
titles, and we did so in order to appease widespread indignation. Since
then, however, we have often thought sorrowfully of the achievements of
these Princely families during the early reigns of our Dynasty, and now
the triumph of our arms at Nanking provides us with a fitting occasion
and excuse to rehabilitate these Princedoms, so that the good name of
their founders may remain unblemished. We therefore hereby restore both
titles as Princes of the blood with all the estates and dependencies
appertaining thereto, and we command that the genealogical trees of these
two Houses be once more placed upon our Dynastic records in their due
order, it being always understood that the usurping Princes Tuan Hua and
Tsai Yüan, together with their descendants in the direct line for two
generations, are expressly excluded from participation in these restored
privileges. Original patents of the Princes of Yi and Cheng are hereby
restored, together with their titles, to the Dukes Cheng Chih and Tsai
Tun. And take heed now both of you Princes, lest you fall away from the
ancient virtue of your Houses! See to it that you long continue to enjoy
our favour by adding fresh lustre to your ancestral good name!”
The intention was undoubtedly well meant, but the Houses of Yi and Cheng
continued to incur the displeasure of the gods. The next Prince Yi but
one, was permitted to commit suicide in 1900, for alleged complicity in
the Boxer rising, but it is significant that his name was not on any
Black List drawn up by the foreign Powers, and that his death was due to
his having incurred the displeasure of the Old Buddha at a time when her
nerves were not particularly good, and when she was therefore liable to
hasty decisions. As to the House of Cheng, the holder of the title in
1900 committed suicide on the day when the Allies entered the city, a
disappointed patriot of the best Manchu model.
Tzŭ Hsi’s wrath against Su Shun found further vent three years after his
death in a Decree which debarred his sons and descendants from ever
holding public office, this punishment being inflicted on the ground that
he had allowed personal spite to influence him, when consulted by the
Emperor Hsien-Feng regarding the penalty to be inflicted on an offending
rival.
IV
THE FIRST REGENCY
Although the collapse of the Tsai Yüan conspiracy, and the stern justice
administered to its leaders, rendered Yehonala’s position secure
and made her _de facto_ ruler of the Empire (for her colleague was,
politically speaking, a negligible quantity, or nearly so), she was
extremely careful, during the first years of the Regency, to avoid all
conspicuous assumption of power and to keep herself and her ambitions
in the background, while she omitted no opportunity of improving her
knowledge of the art of government and of gaining the support of China’s
leading officials. For this reason all the Decrees of this period are
issued in the name of the Emperor, and Tzŭ Hsi’s assumption of authority
was even less conspicuous than during her period of retirement at the
Summer Palace after the conclusion of Kuang-Hsü’s minority. The first
Regency (1861-1873) may be described as Tzŭ Hsi’s tentative period of
rule, in which she tasted the sweets, while avoiding the appearance, of
power. During the second Regency (1875-1889), while her name appeared
only occasionally as the author of Imperial Decrees, she was careful to
keep in her hands all official appointments, the granting of rewards and
punishments and other matters of internal politics calculated to increase
her personal popularity and prestige with the mandarinate. The “curtain
was not suspended” during Kuang-Hsü’s minority, as he was the nominee
of the Empresses, whereas the Emperor T’ung-Chih held his mandate direct
from the late Emperor, his father. It was not until the final Regency
(1898-1908), which was not a Regency at all in the strict sense of the
word but an usurpation of the Imperial prerogative during the lifetime of
the sovereign, that, assured of the strength of her position, she gave
full rein to her love of power and, with something of the contempt which
springs from long familiarity, took unto herself all the outward and
visible signs of Imperial authority, holding audience daily in the Great
Hall of the Palace, seated on the Dragon Throne, with the puppet Emperor
relegated to a position of inferiority, recognised and acclaimed as the
Old Buddha, the sole and undisputed ruler of the Empire.
At the outset of her career, she appears to have realised that the idea
of female rulers had never been popular with the Chinese people; that
even the Empress Wu of the eighth century, the greatest woman in Chinese
history, was regarded as a usurper. She was aware that the Empress Lü
(whose character, as described by historians, was not unlike her own), to
whom was due the consolidation of power that marked the rise of the Han
Dynasty, enjoys but scant respect from posterity. On the other hand, she
knew—for the study of history was her pastime—that the Empresses Dowagers
of the past had often wielded supreme power in the State, principles and
precedents notwithstanding, and their example she determined to follow.
Upon the taking off of the three chief conspirators, the Censors and
Ministers urged her to deal in similar drastic fashion with their aiders
and abettors, and Prince Kung was anxious, if not for revenge, at least
for precautions being taken against those who had had the ear of the
late Emperor during the last months of his reign. But Yehonala showed
statesmanlike forbearance: early in life she realised that a few victims
are better than many, and that lives spared often mean whole families of
friends. After cashiering Prince Yi’s remaining colleagues of the Grand
Council, she dealt leniently with other offenders. When, for instance,
Chen Tu-en, President of the Board of Civil Appointments, was impeached
on the ground that it was he who had first persuaded the Emperor to
flee to Jehol against her advice, and that, after the Emperor’s death,
he alone of all the high officials at the capital had been summoned to
Jehol by the usurping Regents, she contented herself with removing him
from office, though his guilt was clearly proved. Another official, a
Minister of the Household, who had endeavoured to further the aims of the
conspirators, by dissuading Hsien-Feng from returning to Peking in the
spring of 1861, on the plea that an insurrection was impending, was also
cashiered. But there was nothing in the nature of a general proscription,
in spite of the pecuniary and other advantages which usually commend
retaliation to the party in power at Peking. In an able Decree, Tzŭ Hsi
let it be understood that she wished to punish a few only, and those
chiefly _pour encourager les autres_. It was always a characteristic of
hers that, when her ends were safely secured, she adopted a policy of
watchful leniency: _moderata durant_. In this instance she was fully
aware of the fact that Tsai Yüan and his colleagues would never have
had the opportunities, nor the courage, to conspire for the Regency
had they not been assured of the sympathy and support of many of the
higher officials, but she preferred to let the iron hand rest in its
velvet glove unless openly thwarted. She would have no proscriptions,
no wreaking of private grudges and revenges. It was this characteristic
of hers that, as will be seen in another place, obtained for her,
amongst the people of Peking in particular, a reputation for almost
quixotic gentleness, a reputation which we find expressed in frequent
references to the “Benign Countenance,” or “Benevolent Mother,” and which
undoubtedly represented certain genuine impulses in her complex nature.
So, having crushed the conspiracy, she contented herself with exhorting
all concerned to “attend henceforth strictly to their duty, avoiding
those sycophantic and evil tendencies which had brought Chen Tu-en and
Huang Tsung-ban to their disgrace.” In another Decree she emphasised the
principle that sins of omission are not much less grave than overt acts,
roundly censuring the Princes and Ministers of her Government for having
failed to denounce the conspirators at once, and charging them with
cowardice. It was fear and nothing else, she said, that had prevented
them from revealing the truth; and then, with one of those naïve touches
which makes Chinese Edicts a perpetual feast, she added that, should
there be any further plots of usurpers, she would expect to be informed
of their proceedings without delay. Above all, she bade the Imperial Clan
take warning by the fate of the three conspirators, and intimated that
any further attempts of this kind would be far more severely dealt with.
One of the first steps of the Regency was to determine the title of the
new reign. The usurping Princes had selected the characters “Chi-Hsiang,”
meaning “well-omened happiness,” but to Yehonala’s scholarly taste and
fine sense of fitness, the title seemed ill-chosen and redundant, and
as she wished to obliterate all memory of the usurpers’ _régime_, she
chose in its place the characters “T’ung-Chih,” meaning “all-pervading
tranquillity,” probably with one eye on the suppression of the rebellion
and the other on the chances of peace in the Forbidden City. As far as
all good augury for the Emperor himself was concerned, one title was, as
events proved, no more likely to be effective than the other.
On the same day as the proclamation of the new reign was made by Edict,
the Empresses Dowager issued a Decree explaining, and ostensibly
deprecating, the high honour thrust upon them.
“Our assumption of the Regency was utterly contrary to our
wishes, but we have complied with the urgent request of our
Princes and Ministers, because we realise that it is essential
that there should be a higher authority to whom they may
refer. So soon as ever the Emperor shall have completed his
education, we shall take no further part in the Government,
which will then naturally revert to the system prescribed by
all dynastic tradition. Our sincere reluctance in assuming the
direction of affairs must be manifest to all. Our officials are
expected loyally to assist us in the arduous task which we have
undertaken.”
[Illustration: EXTERIOR OF THE CH’IEN CH’ING PALACE.
_Photo, Ogawa, Tokio._]
Following upon this, a Decree was issued in the name of the Emperor,
which represented the boy as thanking their Majesties the Regents and
promising that, so soon as he came of age, he would endeavour, by dutiful
ministrations, to prove his gratitude.
For the procedure of Government it was then arranged that the Empresses
should daily hold joint audiences in the side Hall of the main Palace.
At these, and at all except the great Court ceremonies, the Emperor’s
great-uncle and four brothers were excused from performing the “kotow,”
the Emperor’s respect for the senior generation being thus indirectly
exhibited.