the 10th Moon of this year, was to have been a joyful event,
in which the whole nation would unite in paying to me loyal
and dutiful homage. It had been intended that His Majesty
the Emperor, accompanied by the whole Court, should proceed
to offer congratulations to me, and make obeisance at the
Summer Palace, and my officials and people have subscribed
funds wherewith to raise triumphal arches, and to decorate the
Imperial highway throughout its entire length from Peking to
the I-Ho Yüan; high altars have been erected where Buddhist
Sutras were to have been recited in my honour. I was not
disposed to be unduly obstinate and to insist on refusing these
honours, because, at the time that the celebration was planned,
my people were enjoying peace and prosperity; moreover, there
is precedent for such displays of pageantry and rejoicing in
the occasions on which the Emperors K’ang-Hsi and Ch’ien-Lung
celebrated their sixtieth birthdays. I, therefore, consented
to His Majesty’s filial request, and decided to receive
birthday congratulations at the Summer Palace. Who would ever
have anticipated that the Japanese (literally, ‘dwarf men’)
would have dared to force us into hostilities, and that since
the beginning of the summer they have invaded our tributary
State (Corea) and destroyed our fleet? We had no alternative
but to draw the sword and to commence a punitive campaign; at
this moment our armies are pressing to the front. The people
of both nations (China and Corea) are now involved in all the
horrors of war, and I am continually haunted by the thought
of their distress; therefore, I have issued a grant of three
million taels from my privy purse for the maintenance and
relief of our troops at the front.
“Although the date of my birthday is drawing close, how could
I have the heart, at such a time, to delight my senses with
revelries, or to receive from my subjects congratulations
which could only be sincere if we had won a glorious victory?
I therefore decree that the ceremonies to be observed on my
birthday shall be performed at the Palace in Peking, and all
preparations at the Summer Palace shall be abandoned forthwith.
The words of the Empress.”
To which the Emperor adds the filial remark on his own account: “That Her
Majesty had acted in accordance with the admirable virtue which always
distinguished her, and that, in spite of his own wishes, he was bound
reverently to obey her orders in the matter.”
China’s complete and ignominious defeat by the Japanese forces
undoubtedly inflicted no small loss of prestige on the Manchu Dynasty,
and was a direct cause of the violent agitation of the Southern Provinces
for reform, which led in turn to the _coup d’état_ and to the Boxer
rising. It is doubtful whether war could have been avoided without even
greater sacrifices and humiliation, and the Empress Dowager showed her
usual sagacity therefore in refraining from expressing any opinion or
taking any share of responsibility in the decision taken by the Emperor.
She knew, moreover, that, by the action and advice of her Chief Eunuch,
the Navy had for years been starved in order to provide her with funds
to rebuild and decorate the Summer Palace, a fact of which some of
China’s most distinguished advisers were at that time unaware.
As Viceroy of the Metropolitan Province, Li Hung-chang was generally
blamed for advising the Court to maintain China’s suzerainty over Corea
by force of arms, but, speaking from personal knowledge of this subject,
we may state that, like many other Ministers similarly situated, he
hesitated until the very last moment before taking risks which he knew to
be enormous in both directions. The documents upon which history might
have been written with full knowledge of the facts were unfortunately
destroyed in the Viceroy’s Yamên at Tientsin and in the Inspector-General
of Customs’ quarters at Peking, in 1900, so that the immediate causes
of that disastrous war will probably never be established with complete
accuracy. Li Hung-chang was aware that twice already Japan had been
bought off from a war of aggression against China, the first time (in
1874) by payment of an indemnity, and again (in 1885) by admitting her
to a share in the control of Corea, a concession which had led directly
to the present crisis. He realised that even had he been willing to
surrender China’s rights over Corea (which were of no real advantage to
the Chinese Government) the concession might have purchased peace for
the time being, but it would certainly have led before long to the loss
of the Manchurian Provinces; just as certainly, in fact, as the doom of
those provinces was sealed in 1905, on the day that China acquiesced in
the terms of the Portsmouth Treaty. Japan’s attack on China’s positions
was diplomatically as unjustifiable as the methods which she adopted in
commencing hostilities. Li Hung-chang was fully aware of the preparations
that Japan had been making for years, and equally aware of the
disorganised state of his own naval and military resources, but he was
surrounded by officials who, like the Manchus in 1900, were convinced of
China’s immense superiority, and he was assured by the Chinese Resident
in Corea (Yüan Shih-k’ai) that help would be forthcoming from England
in the event of Japan’s commencing hostilities. There was no doubt of
the British Government’s sympathy, which was clearly reflected in the
attitude and actions of the Consul-General at Seoul.[48]
Chinese historians have openly accused Li Hung-chang of instigating the
Court and the Emperor to a war of aggression, and the accusation has been
generally credited abroad. The truth is, that while Li was originally all
in favour of sending a Chinese force to suppress the Corean insurrection,
he became opposed to taking any steps that might lead to war with Japan,
as soon as he realised that war was Japan’s object; nevertheless, it is
certain that, in the last instance, he was persuaded against his better
judgment by the military enthusiasm of his German advisers, and that the
sending of the ill-fated “Kow-hsing” and her doomed crew to Corea was a
step which he authorised only after consultation with Peking and in full
knowledge of the fact that it meant war. No sooner had the “Kow-hsing”
been sunk, and the first military disasters of the campaign reported,
than he naturally endeavoured to minimise his own share of responsibility
in the matter.
Foreigners blamed him for making war on Japan, while his own countrymen
attacked him for betraying China to the Japanese, as they subsequently
attacked him for selling Manchuria to Russia. Tzŭ Hsi had no great love
for the Viceroy, although she admired his remarkable intelligence and
adroit methods: but when, after the war, he was fiercely attacked by
several of the Censors, and when she found her own name associated with
the blame imputed to him, she loyally defended him, as was her wont.
In 1895, a Censor named An Wei-chün boldly blamed Her Majesty and the
Viceroy for the disasters which had overtaken China. He said:—
“Li Hung-chang has invariably advanced himself because of his
relations with foreigners, and thus been led to conceive an
inflated opinion of his own merits. The ‘dwarf bandits’[49]
having rebelled, he seems to have been afraid that the large
sums of money, saved from numerous peculations, which he
had deposited in Japan might be lost; hence his objections
to the war. When the Decree declaring war reached him, his
disappointment was great, and he showed his resentment and
treachery by supplying the ‘dwarf bandits’ with supplies and
munitions of war. His only hope was that the ‘dwarfs’ would
prove victorious and his prophecy would thus be justified; to
this end he curtailed the supplies for our troops at the front,
diverting the funds for the same to his own pockets. He would
strongly oppose all those who urged a vigorous prosecution
of the campaign, rejoicing at our defeats and deploring our
successes. All the military commanders of the forces under his
orders humbly complied with his wishes, and invariably ran away
at the first sight of the enemy. The Censorate has been full of
Memorials denouncing the treacherous and unpatriotic action of
Li Hung-chang, so that there is no need for me to say anything
further on this subject.
“But I would like to add that Generals Yeh and Wei, who have
been cashiered and whose arrest has been decreed, are at this
very moment in hiding at Tientsin; they have made the Viceroy’s
Yamên itself a place of refuge for absconding criminals. This
is a matter of common knowledge and undoubtedly true. Then
again we have the case of Ting Ju-chang, who was ordered to
be arrested, but who persuaded Li Hung-chang to intercede for
him, on the plea that he was indispensable to China, being in
possession of a mysterious secret, an American invention which
he alone could manipulate, whereby all surrounding objects can
be rendered invisible. Li Hung-chang actually had the audacity
to make mention of this ridiculous invention in addressing
your Majesty, and it seems to me that if he is to be permitted
to refer to fables and unclean magic of this kind, he is
treating the Throne with shameless disrespect. Nevertheless,
none of your Majesty’s Councillors have ever dared to oppose
him, possibly because they themselves are too far gone in
senile decay to be able to bear any further burden of distress.
Their thoughts are far away, wool-gathering, or it may be that
they too have been smitten with fear at the thought of this
marvellous invention of Li Hung-chang’s whereby the landscape
may be completely befogged. If so, the fact would account
for the nebulous tendencies of their policy, and for their
remaining in ignorance of Li Hung-chang’s remarkable mendacity.
“The Imperial Decree whereby Shao Yu-lien and Chang Yin-huan
have been appointed Plenipotentiaries to discuss terms of
peace, has not yet been made public, because the Grand
Council are actually afraid openly to mention the word peace,
notwithstanding that they failed utterly in prosecuting the war
and in dignified insistence on our lawful rights. Their action
appears to me like that of a thief who having stolen a bell,
shuts his ears while carrying it away, blissfully forgetting
that everybody else can hear its tinkling. They do not seem to
be aware, these Councillors, that throughout the whole Empire
everybody is already aware of the fact that we are suing for
peace. Japan having objected to Shao on personal grounds, the
Grand Council has now actually gone so far as to suggest that
in his place Li Hung-chang’s son, Li Ching-fang[50] should be
appointed. This is simply an outrage. Li Ching-fang is nothing
more than the son-in-law of a Japanese traitor who calls
himself Chang Pang-chang, a man whom I have already impeached.
If such unspeakable traitors are permitted to go to Japan,
nothing will suit the Japanese better, and the negotiations
must inevitably result in our being badly cheated by these
pernicious robbers. Japan’s strength is purely superficial;
as a matter of fact, she is rotten to the core; if now we are
debarred from compelling Japan to fight a decisive battle, if
we meekly accept terms dictated by these low-born dwarfs, we
are simply in the position of a tributary State, and cannot
be described as equals in any treaty that may be made. In
other words, our glorious Empire is not only being ruined by
muddlers, but sold by traitors. There is not a single subject
of the Throne who does not gnash his teeth with rage, and long
to sink them in the flesh of Li Hung-chang.
“There are not lacking people who declare that this humiliating
policy of peace has been prompted by the Empress Dowager’s
Chief Eunuch, Li Lien-ying. For myself, I do not care to attach
undue importance to tea-house gossip, but as the Empress
Dowager has now handed over the reins of Government to your
Majesty, how can you possibly justify your position before
your ancestors and to your subjects, if you permit her still
to dictate to you, or to interfere in the business of the
State? What sort of a person is this Li Lien-ying who dares
to interfere in Government matters? If there be any truth
whatsoever in the rumour, it is assuredly incumbent upon your
Majesty to inflict severe punishment on this creature, if only
because of that House-law of your Dynasty which forbids eunuchs
to concern themselves in State affairs.
“The truth is that the Throne has been intimidated by Li
Hung-chang, and has taken his statements for granted, while the
Grand Council, chiefly composed of Li’s humble and obedient
servants, shields him from detection and punishment, fearing
that, if thwarted, he may raise the standard of rebellion. They
accordingly do their best to justify him in the eyes of your
Majesty, failing to realise that he has always been a traitor
at heart. His is the will, if not the power, to rebel. His army
is composed of corrupt and useless creatures quite devoid of
any military knowledge or instincts, while his troops are ever
on the verge of mutiny, because they are always defrauded of
their pay. They are quite deficient in _esprit de corps_, and
the small foreign forces lately organised at Tientsin would
more than suffice to overcome Li Hung-chang and all his host.
The truth of these statements can easily be verified. Long ago,
if he had had the power, he would surely have rebelled; but as
he cannot do so, he contents himself with bullying your Majesty
and disregarding your Imperial Decrees. He totally ignores
the existence of the Empress Dowager and of your Majesty,
a fact which may be inferred from his daring to insult
your intelligence with his mysterious powers of conferring
invisibility.
“I am covered with shame and amazement. My only hope is that
your Majesty will now display the majesty of your wrath, and,
after disclosing Li Hung-chang’s treason to all men, will
put this traitor to death. By this means our troops would at
once be inspired to valour, and the ‘dwarf bandits’ would be
completely annihilated. At the same time, I would ask you to be
so good as to behead me also, as a fitting punishment for this
plain speaking. Your Majesty’s Imperial ancestors are present
in the spirit, and they bear me witness. I am quite easy in my
mind as to the issue, and I therefore lay bare the innermost
thoughts of my heart and lay them before your Majesty,
anxiously begging for your Imperial decision.”
In reply to this outspoken document, the Emperor issued the following
Decree, which bears unmistakable signs of Tzŭ Hsi’s hand. The attack upon
her favourite, Li Lien-ying, was in itself sufficient to bring her to the
front, and there is no doubt that at the time she was keeping very close
watch on the Emperor’s proceedings, and regularly perusing all State
papers.
“Owing to the seriousness of recent events, we have been
particularly anxious of late to receive and attend to the
unprejudiced suggestions of our Censors, and we have abstained
from punishing any of them, even when they have made use of
improper expressions in addressing us. With the gracious
consent of Her Majesty the Empress Dowager, we have given
particular attention to all projects whereby the welfare of our
people may be advanced, and all our people must by this time
be aware of our sincere desire to promote good Government. In
spite of this the Censor, An Wei-chün, has to-day submitted
a Memorial based entirely upon rumours, and containing the
following sentence:—‘How can you possibly justify your position
before your ancestors and to your subjects if you permit the
Empress Dowager still to dictate to you, or to interfere in the
business of the State?’
“Language of this kind reveals depths of audacity unspeakable,
the unbridled licence of a madman’s tongue. Were we to fail in
inflicting stern punishment in a case of this kind, the result
might well be to produce estrangement between Her Majesty the
Empress and ourselves. The Censor is, therefore, dismissed from
office and sentenced to banishment at the post-roads, on the
western frontier where he shall expiate his guilt and serve as
a wholesome warning to others. His Memorial is handed back to
him with the contempt it deserves.”
Tzŭ Hsi felt deeply the humiliation of her country’s defeat by the
Japanese, a race which, as Chinese historians never fail to remind
themselves, took its first lessons in civilisation and culture from
Chinese scholars and artists. Anxious at all costs to avoid another
invasion of Chihli by the conquerors, she approved the Treaty of
Peace, especially when assured by Li Hung-chang that Russia and her
Continental allies would not allow Japan to annex any portion of the
Manchurian Provinces. As above stated, she declined to permit Li to be
made a scapegoat either by her chagrined Manchu kinsmen or by his fierce
critics in the south, for she recognised the difficulty of his position,
and the fact that he was not directly responsible for the deplorable
condition of China’s defences. But, woman-like, she had to blame someone
for the disasters that had deprived her and her capital of festivities
whose splendour should have gone down, making her name glorious, to all
posterity; and it was not surprising, therefore, if she heaped reproaches
on the Emperor for entering upon so disastrous a war without her full
knowledge and consent. It was at this time that began the estrangement
which thenceforward gradually grew into the open hostility and secret
plottings of 1898, the long bitterness between Tzŭ Hsi and her nephew
which was to divide the Palace into camps of strife, and to cease only
with their death. From this time also, as they aver who were in close
touch with the life of the Court, the Emperor’s Consort,[51] Tzŭ Hsi’s
niece, became openly alienated from him, and their relations grew more
severely strained as his reform tendencies developed and took shape.
From 1894 to 1896 there was no noticeable change in the attitude of
the Emperor to his august aunt, nor any diminution of his respectful
attentions, but the man in the street knew well, as he always knows in
China, of the rift in the lute, and when, in 1896, the Emperor’s mother
(Tzŭ’s sister) died, it was realised that the last bond of amity and
possible reconciliation between Kuang-Hsü and the Empress Dowager had
been severed.
XII
THE REFORM MOVEMENT OF 1898
At the beginning of 1898 the Grand Council was composed of the following
officials: Prince Kung, the Emperor’s uncle, Prince Li, whose son was
married to Jung Lu’s daughter, Kang Yi,[52] Liao Shou-heng and Weng
T’ung-ho, the Grand Secretary and ex-tutor to the Emperor. The Empress
Dowager was still leading her life of dignified leisure at the Summer
Palace, generally in company with her two confidential friends, the
wife of Jung Lu and her adopted daughter, the Princess Imperial. By all
accounts she was amusing herself with picnics on the K’un Ming lake,
elaborate theatrical performances and excursions to the neighbouring
temples and hill shrines, devoting her leisure from these pursuits to
verse-making and painting, but keeping herself fully informed, through
Kang Yi and Prince Li, of all that took place in the Forbidden City.
Although leaving the conduct of State affairs to the Emperor, she
occasionally visited the city for a day or two, while the Emperor, on
his side, punctiliously repaired to the Summer Palace five or six times
a month to pay his respects to the Old Buddha. Their relations at this
period were outwardly friendly. Kuang-Hsü never failed to consult Her
Majesty before the issue of any important Decree, and Tzŭ Hsi was usually
most cordial in her manner towards him. She had, it is true, occasion
to reprove him more than once on account of reports which reached her,
through the eunuchs, of his violent temper and alleged bad treatment of
his attendants, reports which were probably instigated and exaggerated by
Li Lien-ying for his own purposes. But Kuang-Hsü, as events subsequently
proved, was fully aware of the iron hand in the velvet glove. Whenever
the Empress came to Peking, he obeyed strictly the etiquette which
required him reverently to kneel at the Palace gates to welcome her. When
visiting her at the Summer Palace, he was not permitted to announce his
arrival in person, but was obliged to kneel at the inner gate and there
await the summons of admission from the Chief Eunuch. Li, who hated him,
delighted in keeping him waiting, sometimes as much as half an hour,
before informing the Old Buddha of his presence. At each of these visits
he was compelled, like any of the Palace officials, to pay his way by
large fees to the eunuchs in attendance on Her Majesty, and as a matter
of fact, these myrmidons treated him with considerably less respect than
they showed to many high Manchu dignitaries. Within the Palace precincts,
the Son of Heaven was indeed regarded as of little account, so that the
initiative and determination which he displayed during the hundred days
of reform in the summer of 1898 came as a disturbing surprise to many at
Court and showed that, given an opportunity, he was not wholly unworthy
of the Yehonala blood of his mother, Tzŭ Hsi’s sister.
The official who had hitherto exercised most influence over the Emperor
was Weng T’ung-ho, the Imperial tutor. He had only rejoined the Grand
Council in November 1894, at the critical time when the disastrous
opening of the war with Japan had brought about the dismissal of the
former Council; but as Imperial tutor he had had the _entrée_ of the
Palace ever since the Emperor was five years old. He was the leader of
the southern party in the capital. A native of Kiangsu (the birthplace
of all the greatest scholars of China during the present Dynasty, and
the centre of national culture), he hated the narrow conservatism of the
Manchus, and included in his dislike the Chinese of the Metropolitan
Provinces, whose politics and point of view are very similar to those of
the Manchus. The strife between north and south really dated from the
beginning of Kuang-Hsü’s reign. The two protagonists on the northern
side were Hsü T’ung, a well-educated Chinese Bannerman (for all
practical purposes, a Manchu at heart) who had been tutor to the Emperor
T’ung-Chih; and Li Hung-tsao, a native of Chihli, who had joined the
Grand Council at the same time as Weng T’ung-ho. The southern party was
led by Weng T’ung-ho and P’an Tsu-yin, the latter a native of Soochow and
a most brilliant scholar and essayist. It is necessary to dwell on this
party strife and its development, because it was the first cause of the
reform movement of 1898, of the subsequent resumption of the Regency by
Tzŭ Hsi, and, eventually, of the Boxer rising.
For more than twenty years these four high officials had been colleagues
in Peking, meeting one another constantly in social as well as official
circles. Their literary arguments, in which the quick-witted southerners
generally scored, were the talk of the capital. All four men bore good
reputations for integrity, so that literary graduates entering official
life were glad to become their _protégés_; but the adherents of the
southern party were the more numerous. This fact aroused the jealousy of
Li and Hsü, which grew until it found vent publicly at the metropolitan
examination for the “Chin Shih,” or Doctor’s, degree in 1899, on which
occasion Li was Grand Examiner and P’an Tsu-yin his chief Associate.
P’an, whose duty it was to select the best essays, recommended a native
of Kiangsu for the high honour of _optimus_, but Li declined to endorse
his decision, and gave the award to a Chihli man. P’an thereupon openly
accused Li of prejudice and unfairness towards the southerner, and
twitted him besides on his second-rate scholarship.
At the time of Russia’s seizure of Ili, in 1880, Hsü T’ung and Weng
T’ung-ho were respectively Presidents of the Boards of Ceremonies and
Works. At a conference of the highest officials, held in the Palace, Weng
declared himself in favour of war with Russia, but Hsü, after promising
to support him, left him in the lurch at the last moment, causing him
discomfiture and loss of face. Hence, bitter enmity between them,
which increased in intensity when they became the leaders of the rival
factions. Weng was also on bad terms with Jung Lu, who had never forgiven
him for the part he played in 1880, when Weng denounced his impious
_liaison_ to the Empress Dowager and brought about his dismissal. Jung
Lu, as a loyal Manchu, naturally favoured the northern faction and his
personal feelings prompted him in the same direction.