pathetically to complain “that they have to a large extent been ignored,
or merely transmitted by one provincial authority to another, descending
from the Governor to the District Magistrate through the usual routine
channels, and eventually pigeon-holed as so much waste paper.” She admits
frankly that this method of treating Imperial Decrees is quite usual, and
that it has the sanction of tradition, but she insists that the time has
come for a change, and therefore now directs that all her Decrees are in
future to be printed on special Imperial yellow paper, and their contents
made known throughout the length and breadth of the Empire.
After further earnest exhortations to patriotism, and to that keen sense
of duty which alone can develop efficiency in the public service, she
directs that the local officials should keep closer touch with the gentry
and the elders of the people, and that officers in command of military
forces are to explain clearly to the rank and file the objects which Her
Majesty has in view in deciding upon military organisation.
The Decree concludes with the following words:—
“If in times of peace my people are prepared to face all
possible dangers, and to put away from them selfish and ignoble
ease, they will find that, when the hour of trial comes, their
common resolution is in very truth a tower of strength, which
shall not fail to bring about its due reward. By this means
shall the foundations of our Empire be strengthened, and its
prestige increased, and thus shall my purposes be fulfilled,
for which I have issued to you this solemn admonition.”
This Decree was followed by another, in the classical manner, exhorting
the troops to practise patriotism, which calls for no especial notice,
and certainly produced no more conspicuous effect than her repeated
warnings to the provincial Mandarins and her appeals for more energy
and intelligence in the public service. Certain writers have pointed to
the numerous and plain-spoken Decrees issued by Tzŭ Hsi at this period,
as proof that her heart was really set upon effectively reforming the
country’s administration, but it is always difficult for foreigners, and
even for Chinese outside the Palace, to form any concise idea as to the
inner meaning of these lucubrations, and how much of them was, on any
particular occasion, to be taken as something outside of the traditional
and stereotyped utterances of the Throne. It is certain that she herself
failed to exercise the personal influence and example that would have
convinced the world of her sincerity, and that she did nothing to put her
house of the Forbidden City in order or to do away with the manifest and
notorious abuses at her Court.
The Old Buddha concluded this remarkable display of literary and
political activity by returning once more to the grievance which rankled
most deeply, viz., that the chief conspirator against her sacred
authority and person had made good his escape. Professing to believe
that the heinousness of K’ang Yu wei’s crimes was not fully realised by
her people, she issued another Decree on the subject, in December, as
follows:—
“T’an Chung-lin, Viceroy of Canton, has memorialised
stating that he has brought to light, by searches at K’ang
Yu-wei’s birthplace, a large quantity of documents, chiefly
correspondence between the members of K’ang’s party, together
with certain seals, made of stone; all of which he has
forwarded for our personal inspection. These letters contain
a mass of treasonable matter. In one place the suggestion
is actually made that T’an Ssu-t’ung (one of the reformers
executed) should be nominated as President of the Chinese
Republic! The writers ignore the present Dynasty even in dating
their correspondence, and use instead a chronology which
begins with the birth of Confucius; one of them has actually
had the unbounded audacity to describe the present Dynasty as
‘perfectly useless.’ Abominable wickedness of this kind shows
that these men were something worse than ordinary rebels and
parricides. Their correspondence implicates an enormous number
of persons, but, as the Throne desires to show mercy and to
refrain from any further enquiry into this matter, the whole
correspondence has now been burnt by our orders.
“When first we stated in our Decrees the nature of the
treasonable conspiracy that K’ang Yu-wei had organised and of
his revolutionary programme, it was our object to nip rebellion
in the bud. But it would appear, from information which has
reached us, that certain misinformed people still hold to the
opinion and express it, that K’ang Yu-wei was nothing worse
than an over-zealous reformer. We mention therefore this matter
of the correspondence of these traitors, as proving beyond
possibility of doubt that K’ang Yu-wei was indeed a base and
unnatural malefactor, and we feel convinced that our loyal
subjects, from the highest to the lowest, realising this truth,
will now relegate his revolutionary utterances to their proper
position of insignificance. Thus shall right principles triumph
and the wrong be wiped out.”
Thus was Tzŭ Hsi established in her pride of place and thus were sown the
seeds of that great upheaval which was soon to shake the Empire to its
foundations.
XVI
THE GENESIS OF THE BOXER MOVEMENT
The history of the Boxers has been so fully written, and so many
excellent accounts given of the origins and contributing factors of the
movement, that any further reference to the matter may seem superfluous.
Nevertheless, the following extracts from a letter addressed by Jung Lu
to his friend Hsü Ying-kuei, the Viceroy of Fukien, may throw some new
light, not only on the causes of the growth of the movement in Chihli
but also on the character, private opinions and political methods of the
Empress Dowager’s favourite and trusted adviser. It was written in the
early part of July 1900.
“The Boxers started in eighteen villages of the Kuan district
of Shantung and they were originally called the ‘Plum Blossom
Fists.’ When Li Ping-heng was Governor of the Province (1895)
he did not forbid their proceedings, but, on the contrary,
proceeded to enrol them as Militia. Last summer there were
several conflicts between these Boxers and the Imperial
troops, but the Military commander was cashiered by order
of the Governor for his action and all the Boxer prisoners
were released. Their leader at this time openly described
himself as a descendant of the Ming Emperors and the female
branch of his society called ‘Red Lamp Light’ was named after
him. Last autumn, thus encouraged, the movement spread into
Chihli. The magistrate at Chingchou put out a proclamation
warning the people not to believe in their so-called magic
arts; he said these Boxers were only the ‘White Lily Sect’
under another name. This magistrate was a good friend to the
French missionaries, and the Viceroy, hearing of the incident,
enquired into the matter and promptly had him dismissed. This
caused me great regret, for both Wang Wen-shao and I had
known the man well, when we held the Chihli Viceroyalty, and
respected him.
“At the end of the 9th Moon of last year there were Boxers
openly displaying huge banners in Chihli, on which was written,
‘The Gods assist us to destroy all foreigners; we invite you
to join the patriotic Militia.’ At one place a Buddhist abbot
was the head of the Society and he led on the mob, burning the
Christian chapel there. Subsequently, while they were burning
converts’ houses at Liupa, the magistrate came out and attacked
them with his troops. The soldiers opened fire and the Boxers
retreated, but their priest leaders were captured, and some
thirty or forty were shot dead. This ought to have demonstrated
to the people at large how nonsensical were the stories about
the invulnerability of these mountebanks: our soldiers dealt
with them as easily as if they had been trussing chickens!
There were charms and forms of incantation found on the persons
of the priests who, after an examination by the magistrate,
were summarily executed.
“The provincial treasurer, T’ing Yung,[65] was largely
responsible for the beginning of the trouble. I hear that about
ten days ago he sent for all his subordinates to attend at
his Yamên, and the Prefect of Hsüanhua,[66] who was passing
through, came to pay his respects with the others. This man
said, ‘in the reign of Chia Ch’ing there were heterodox cults
of this kind, and the Emperor ordered them to be suppressed.’
T’ing Yung replied, ‘circumstances alter cases. Why should you
now refer to those days?’ The Prefect answered him, ‘It is
quite true that the calendar is no longer the same as it was
at that time, but the enlightened principles laid down by our
sacred ancestors should be a guidance to us for ever.’ T’ing
had of course nothing to say, and could only glare at him in
silence and change the conversation.
“When first I read Her Majesty’s decree of the 21st June in
which she orders us to form train-bands of these brave Boxers,
describing them as patriots of whom large numbers are to be
found, and should be enrolled, in every province, I lay awake
all the next night thinking over this matter. Unable to sleep,
more than once I sprang from my bed restless and excited with
mixed feelings of joy and fear. The idea of enlisting these
patriotic volunteers to repel the aggression of the foreigner
is undoubtedly a good one, and, if carefully worked out and
directed by firm discipline and good leadership, it might no
doubt be of the very highest utility. But if otherwise handled,
these men will inevitably get out of hand, and the only result
will be chaos and disaster. You will, no doubt, agree with me,
my old friend and colleague, that the motive which inspires
these Boxers is a patriotic one. So great is the ill-feeling
that exists between the mass of our people and the converts to
Christianity that we have been unavoidably dragged to the very
verge of hostilities, and our Government has embarked upon a
desperate course ‘of inviting the enemy to meet us in battle
before the walls of our capital.’ It is as if we were treading
on naked swords without flinching; there can be no question as
to the enthusiasm and ardour in our cause.
“But, at the beginning of the movement, these Boxers were
afraid to come together in large numbers lest the Imperial
troops should attack and destroy them; from this alone we
may reasonably infer that they are not devoid of the common
instinct of fear. By themselves they cannot be fully trusted,
but it seems to me (though you may consider the idea absurd)
that one might profitably use them to inspire, by their
fanaticism, the martial ardour of our regular troops. As a
fighting force they are absolutely useless, but their claims
to supernatural arts and magic might possibly be valuable for
the purpose of disheartening the enemy. But it would be quite
wrong, not to say fatal, for us to attach any real belief to
their ridiculous claims, or to regard them as of any real use
in action. Even if there were any truth in these tales of
magic they must necessarily be founded in heresy, and you know
full well that Chinese history records numerous instances of
such superstitious beliefs ending in rebellions against the
reigning Dynasty. You recently telegraphed me advising me
not to be unduly anxious, because in your opinion the Boxers
acquitted themselves exceedingly well in the fights at Tientsin
and Taku on the 20th June. I am not so sure of this myself; in
any case it is well to bear in mind that there is a very great
difference between the fighting capacity and temperament of the
natives of the north and south of China.[67] All the southern
provinces are teeming with secret and revolutionary societies,
salt smugglers, and other kinds of desperadoes; so much tinder,
which any spark may kindle into flames of disturbance at any
moment. These southern people are gamblers and disorderly
characters by profession, but they are certainly not animated
by any patriotic instinct, and if you were to enlist any
large number of them as a military force, it would be just
like organising bands of jackals and wolves to fight tigers.
The result would be that while none of the tigers would be
destroyed, millions of your own people, who may be likened to
sheep, would suffer miserably. On the other hand these northern
Boxers are not inspired by any lust of plunder, but by a
species of religious frenzy. Now, as you know, northerners are
dull and obstinate by nature, while the southerners are alert
but unreliable, so that it is difficult, if not impossible,
to arrive at any fixed policy or joint action in dealing with
them together. Was it not because of this characteristic of
the southerners that the Grand Council was so indignant in
1894, when, in fighting against the Japanese, our men feared
them worse than tigers, and, recognising their own hopeless
inferiority, threw down their weapons and would not face the
enemy?
“These Boxers are not trained troops, but they are ready to
fight, and to face death. It is indeed a very gratifying
surprise to see any of our people display courage, and to
witness their enthusiasm for paying off old scores against
the foreigner; but if, inspired by the sight of these brave
fellows, we imagine for a moment that the whole Empire is
going to follow their example, and that we shall thus be
enabled to rid ourselves of the accursed presence of the
foreigner, we are very much mistaken, and the attempt is
foredoomed. My advice therefore to your Excellency, is not to
hesitate in disobeying the Edict which commanded you to raise
these train-bands. I do not hesitate to give you this advice
and to assure you that you run no risks in following it. You
should, of course, act with great discretion, but the main
thing is to prevent the Throne’s Decree becoming an excuse for
the banding together of disorderly characters. I write this
private letter under stress of much natural apprehension, and
you will therefore pray forgive the haste and confusion of its
contents, and I trust that you will favour me in due course
with your reply.
(Signed)
“JUNG LU.”
[Illustration: THE “BEILEH” TSAI YING, SON OF PRINCE KUNG (CASHIERED BY
TZŬ HSI FOR PRO-BOXER PROCLIVITIES), AND HIS SON.]
XVII
THE DIARY OF HIS EXCELLENCY CHING SHAN
[NOTE.—Ching Shan, a Manchu of the Plain Yellow Banner Corps,
was born in 1823. In 1863 he became a Metropolitan Graduate and
Hanlin Compiler, especially distinguished as a scholar in Sung
philosophy. In the following year he was appointed a Junior
Secretary of the Imperial Household (Nei wu fu), rising to
Senior Secretary in 1869 and Comptroller in 1879. His father,
Kuang Shun, had held the post of Comptroller-General under
the Emperor Tao-Kuang, with whom he was for years on terms of
intimacy; he was a kinsman of the Empress Dowager’s family and
in close touch with all the leading Manchu nobles. Ching Shan
had therefore exceptional opportunities of knowing all the
gossip of the Court, of learning the opinions and watching the
movements of the high officials, Chinese and Manchu, who stood
nearest to the Throne. After holding office in several of the
Metropolitan Boards, he retired in 1894. He was tutor to Prince
Tuan, Duke Tsai Lan, and other sons of Prince Tun (younger son
of the Emperor Tao-Kuang), and therefore intimately associated
with the leaders of the Boxer movement.
Seen even against the lurid background of the abomination of
desolation which overtook Peking in August 1900, Ching Shan’s
fate was unusually tragic. Above the storm and stress of battle
and sudden death, of dangers from Boxers, wild Kansuh soldiery
and barbarian invaders, the old scholar’s domestic griefs,
the quarrels of his women folk, his son’s unfilial behaviour,
strike a more poignant note than any of his country’s fast
pressing misfortunes. And with good cause. On the 15th August,
after the entry of the allied forces into Peking and the flight
of the Empress Dowager, his wife, his senior concubine, and one
of his daughters-in-law committed suicide. He survived them but
a few hours, meeting death at the hands of his eldest son, En
Ch’un, who pushed him down a well in his own courtyard. This
son was subsequently shot by British troops for harbouring
armed Boxers.
The Diary was found by the translator in the private study
of Ching Shan’s house on August 18th and saved, in the nick
of time, from being burnt by a party of Sikhs. Many of the
entries, which cover the period from January to August 1900,
refer to trivial and uninteresting matters. The following
passages are selected chiefly because of the light they throw
on the part played by the Empress Dowager in that tragedy of
midsummer madness—on the strong hand and statecraft of the
woman, and on the unfathomable ignorance which characterises
to-day the degenerate descendants of Nurhachu. It should be
explained that Ching Shan (景善), who retired from office in
1894, must be distinguished from Ching Hsin (敬信), who died
about 1904. The latter was also a Manchu and a favourite of Tzŭ
Hsi, well known to foreigners at the capital. He held various
high posts, rose to be a Grand Secretary, and remained in
Peking after the flight of the Court, in charge of the Palace.
It was he who escorted the Diplomatic Body through the deserted
halls of the Forbidden City in September 1900. He was highly
respected by all who knew him.
Ching Shan, though of similarly high rank, was personally quite
unknown to foreigners, but a short note on his career (and
another on that of Ching Hsin) will be found in the “List of
the Higher Metropolitan and provincial officials” periodically
compiled by the Chinese Secretariat of the British Legation;
Edition of 1902, Kelly and Walsh, Shanghai.]
_25th Year of Kuang Hsü, 12th Moon, 25th Day_ (25th January, 1900).—Duke
Tsai Lan came to see me, his old tutor, to-day. He has much to tell me
concerning the “Patriotic Harmony” train-bands (I Ho Tuan) which have
been raised in Shantung by Yü Hsien, the Governor. Later, he described
yesterday’s audience at the Palace; in addition to the Grand Secretaries,
the Presidents of Boards and the Ministers of the Household, the “Sacred
Mother” received Prince Kung, his uncles Tsai Ying and Tsai Lien and
Prince Tuan. The Old Buddha announced her intention of selecting a new
Emperor. She said: “The nation has shown resentment and reproached me
for putting Kuang Hsü on the Throne, he being of the wrong generation;
furthermore, he himself has shown great lack of filial duty to me
notwithstanding the debt of gratitude he owed me for my kindness in
thus elevating him. Has he not plotted against me with traitors from
the south? I now propose therefore to depose him and to place a new
Emperor on the Throne, whose accession shall take place on the first
day of the New Year. It should be for you Ministers now to consider
what title should be given to Kuang Hsü upon his abdication. There is
a precedent for his removal from the Throne in the case of the Emperor
Ching T’ai of the Ming Dynasty who was reduced to the rank of Prince and
whose brother was restored to the Throne after eight years of captivity
among the Mongols.” There was dead silence for some time in the Hall of
Audience. At last the Grand Secretary Hsü T’ung suggested as appropriate
the title of “Hun-te-Kung,” which means, “The Duke of Confused Virtue”—or
well-meaning bungler:—it had been given by the Mongol Dynasty to a
deposed Sung Emperor. The Old Buddha approved. She then declared to the
assembly that her choice of the new Emperor was already made; it had
fallen upon the eldest son of Prince Tuan, whose great devotion to Her
Majesty’s person was well known. Henceforward Prince Tuan should be in
constant attendance at the Palace to supervise the education of his son.
At this point the Grand Secretary Sun Chia-nai[68] craved permission to
speak. He implored the Empress not to depose the Emperor; of a certainty
there would be rebellion in the Southern provinces. The choice of a new
Sovereign rested with her, but it could only be done after “ten thousand
years had elapsed” (_i.e._, after the death of the present Emperor).
The “Motherly Countenance” showed great wrath; turning on Sun Chia-nai,
she bade him remember that this was a family council to which she only
admitted Chinese as an act of grace. She had already notified the Emperor
of her intention, and he had no objections to offer. The Empress then
ordered all present to repair to the Hall of Diligent Government there to
await her and the Emperor, and upon their coming to witness the draft of
the Decree appointing the Heir Apparent. The formal announcement of his
accession to the throne would be postponed until the first day of the New
Year.
They proceeded therefore to the entrance of the appointed Hall, and in a
few minutes the Empress’s chair appeared at the gateway, when all knelt
and kowtowed three times. A number of eunuchs accompanied her, but she
bade them remain without. She sent Major-domo Li Lien-ying to request the
Emperor’s presence; he came in his chair, alighting at the outer gate
and kowtowed to the Empress, who had taken her seat on the main throne
within. She beckoned him to come to the Hall, and he knelt again, all
officials still kneeling outside. “_Chin lai, pu yung kuei hsia_” (Come
in, you need not kneel), called Her Majesty. She bade him sit down, and
summoned next the princes and ministers—some thirty in all—to enter.
Again the Old Buddha repeated her reasons for the step she was taking.
The Emperor only said “What Your Majesty suggests is quite proper and in
accordance with my views.” At this the Grand Secretary Jung Lu handed
to the Empress the Decree which the Grand Council had drafted.[69] She
read it through and forthwith ordered its promulgation. Nothing was said
to “The Lord of Ten Thousand Years” as to his being deposed; only the
selection of the Heir Apparent was discussed. The Grand Council then
remained for further audience, but the Princes were ordered to withdraw,
so that Duke Lan does not know what passed thereafter. The Emperor seemed
dazed, as one in a dream.
_30th Day_ (30th January, 1900).—To-day Liu Shun shaved my head; he
leaves to-night for his home at Pao-ti-hsien there to spend the new year.
My eldest son, En Ch’u, is pressing me to give him fifty taels to buy
an ermine cloak; he is a bad son and most undutiful. Chi Shou-ch’ing
came to see me to-day; he has moved to “Kuai Pang” Lane. He tells me
that his father-in-law, Yü Hsien, is to be made Governor of Shansi.
The Old Buddha has received him in audience since his removal from
the Governorship of Shantung on account of the murder of a French[70]
missionary, and praised him for the honesty and justice of his
administration. She does not approve of the Big Sword Society’s proposed
extermination of foreigners, because she does not believe they can do
it; Yü Hsien goes often to Prince Tuan’s palace, and they have many
secret interviews. Prince Tuan declares that if he were made President
of the Tsung-li Yamên he would make short work of all difficulties with
foreigners. He is a violent man and lacking in refinement.
_1st Day of 26th Year of Kuang Hsü_ (31st January, 1900).—To-day I am
78 years of age and my children mock me for being deaf. They are bad
sons and will never rise so high as their father has done. When I was
their age, between 20 and 30, the Emperor Tao-Kuang had already praised
my scholarship and presented me with a complimentary scroll bearing a
quotation from the writings of the philosopher Chu.
This year will witness many strange events; the people all say so. The
eighth month is intercalary which, in a year that has “Keng” for its
cyclical character, has ever been an evil omen. The New Emperor was to
have been proclaimed to-day under the title of “Heng-Ching”—all pervading
prosperity—but my son En Lin tells me that the new year sacrifices were
performed by the Ta-A-Ko (heir apparent) at the Palace of Imperial
Longevity, acting only as Deputy for the Emperor Kuang Hsü. The Ta-A-Ko
is a boy of fourteen; very intelligent, but violent-tempered. He walked
on foot to the Palace Hall from the Coal Hill Gate.