observed, “These are brave men. I have never cared much for Hsü, but Yüan
behaved well in 1898 and warned me about K’ang Yu-wei and his plotting.
Be that as it may, however, they have no business to worry me with these
persistent and querulous questions. The Throne itself is fully competent
to judge the character of its servants, and it is a gross misconception
of duty for ‘the acolyte to stride across the sacred vessels and show
the priest how to slaughter the sacrificial beasts.’[90] Desiring to
deal leniently with the Memorialists, I command that my censure be
communicated to them and that they take heed to refrain in future from
troubling my ears with their petulant complainings.”
_3rd Day of the 7th Moon_ (28th July).—The Old Buddha places much
confidence in Li Ping-heng. Yesterday he and Kang Yi discovered that
the word “to slay,” in Her Majesty’s Decree ordering the extermination
of all foreigners, had been altered to “protect” by Yüan Ch’ang and Hsü
Ching-ch’eng. I have just seen Kang Yi, and he says that Her Majesty’s
face was divine in its wrath. “They deserve the punishment meted out
to Kao Ch’u-mi,”[91] she said, “their limbs should be torn asunder
by chariots driven in opposite directions. Let them be summarily
decapitated.” An Edict was forthwith issued, but no mention is made in
it of the alteration of the Decree, as this is a matter affecting the
nation’s prestige; the offenders are denounced only for having created
dissensions in the Palace and favoured the cause of the foreigner. Both
were executed this morning; my son, En Ming, witnessed their death. It
is most painful to me to think of the end of Yüan Ch’ang, for he had
many sterling qualities; as for Hsü, I knew him in the days when we were
colleagues at the Grand Secretariat, and I never had a high opinion of
the man. His corruption was notorious. Just before the sword of the
executioner fell, Yüan remarked that “he hoped that the Sun might soon
return to its place in the Heaven, and that the usurping Comet might be
destroyed.” By this he meant that Prince Tuan’s malign influence had led
the Empress Dowager to act against her own better instincts. Duke Lan,
who was superintending the execution, angrily bade him be silent for a
traitor, but Yüan fearlessly went on, “I die innocent. In years to come
my name will be remembered with gratitude and respect, long after you
evil-plotting Princes have met your well-deserved doom.” Turning then to
Hsü, he said, “We shall meet anon at the Yellow Springs.[92] To die is
only to come home.” Duke Lan stepped forward as if to strike him, and the
headsman quickly despatched them both.
_8th Day of the 7th Moon_ (3rd August).—I have had much trouble with my
eldest son to-day. He has been robbing me lately of large sums, and when
I rebuked him he had the audacity to reply that my duty to the Throne
would make my suicide a fitting return for the benefits which I have
received at its hands.
Li Ping-heng has gone to the front to rally the troops and check the
foreigners’ advance. He has impeached Jung Lu but the Old Buddha has
suppressed the Memorial. The Emperor thanked Jung Lu for his services,
and the Commander-in-Chief replied that he of all the servants of the
Throne never expected to receive praise from His Majesty, considering the
events of the past two years.[93]
_11th Day of the 7th Moon_ (5th August).—The Old Buddha has commanded
Jung Lu to arrange for escorting the foreigners to Tientsin, so that the
advance of the Allies may be stopped. In this connection, I hear that
not many days ago, ⸺ persuaded Ch’i Hsiu to have a letter sent to the
Foreign Ministers, inviting them to come, without escort of troops, to
an interview with the Tsung Li Yamên, his idea being to have them all
massacred on the way. Ch’i Hsiu thought the suggestion excellent, but,
although several letters have been sent proposing it, the Ministers
decline to leave the Legations. Meanwhile, there have been several fresh
attacks on the Legations during the past few days.
A foreign devil, half naked, was found yesterday in Hatamen Street.
He kowtowed to everyone he met, high class or low, imploring even the
rag-pickers to spare his life and give him a few cash. “We shall all be
massacred soon,” he said, “but I have done no wrong.” One of Jung Lu’s
sergeants seized him and took him to the Commander-in-Chief’s residence.
Instead of decapitating him, Jung Lu sent him back. This shows, however,
the desperate straits to which the foreigners are reduced.
_15th Day of the 7th Moon_ (9th August).—Bad news from the South. Yü
Lu’s forces have been defeated and the foreigners are approaching nearer
every day. The Old Buddha is meditating flight to Jehol, but Jung Lu
strongly urges her to remain, even if the Allies should enter the City.
Duke Lan scoffs at the idea of their being able to do so. One comfort
is that, if they do come, they will not loot or kill. I remember well
how good their discipline was forty years ago. I never stirred out of my
house and not one of the barbarians ever came near it. We had a little
difficulty about getting victuals, but the foreigners hardly came into
the city, and did us no harm.
_16th Day of the 7th Moon_ (10th August).—My old colleague, Li Shan,
whose house adjoins the French Cathedral, has been accused of making a
subterranean passage and thus assisting the foreigners with supplies. He
has been handed over to the Board of Punishments by Prince Tuan, without
the knowledge of the Empress Dowager, together with Hsü Yung-yi and Lien
Yuan. Prince Tuan has long had a grudge against Hsü for having expressed
disapproval of the selection of the Heir Apparent. As to Lien, they say
that his arrest is due to ⸺, and his offence is that he was on terms of
intimacy with Yüan Ch’ang. All three prisoners were decapitated this
morning. Hsü Yung-yi was older than I am (seventy-nine) and his death is
a lamentable business indeed. But he went to his death calmly and without
complaint when he learned that the Empress Dowager knew nothing of the
matter and that it was Prince Tuan’s doing alone. “The power of the
usurper,” said he, “is short-lived. As for me, I am glad to die before
the foreigners take Peking.” The Old Buddha will be very wrath when she
hears that two Manchus have thus been put to death. Li Shan and Jung Lu
were old friends.
A certain General Liu, from Shansi, assured the Empress this morning that
he would undertake to demolish the Legations in three days, and this
would so alarm the allies that their advance would certainly be stopped.
A furious bombardment has just begun.
The Boxers have proved themselves utterly useless. I always said they
never would do anything.
_18th Day of the 7th Moon_ (_12th August_).—The foreigners are getting
nearer and nearer. Yü Lu shot himself with a revolver on the 12th at
Ts’ai Ts’un. He had taken refuge in a coffin shop, of all ill-omened
places! His troops had been utterly routed thrice, at Pei Tsang, Yang
Ts’un and at Ts’ai Ts’un. Li Ping-heng reached Ho-hsi wu on the 14th,
but in spite of all his efforts to rally our forces, the two divisional
leaders, Chang Ch’un-fa and Ch’en Tsê-lin, refused to fight. Li Ping-heng
therefore took poison. Jung Lu went to-day to break the news to the Old
Buddha: sovereign and Minister wept together at the disasters which
these Princes and rebels have brought upon our glorious Empire. Jung
Lu refrained from any attempt at self-justification; he is a wise man.
The Old Buddha said she would commit suicide and make the Emperor do
the same, rather than leave her capital. Jung Lu besought her to take
his advice, which was to remain in Peking and to issue Decrees ordering
the decapitation of Prince Tuan and his followers, thus proving her
innocence to the world. But she seems to cling still to a hope that the
supernatural powers of the Boxers may save Peking, and so the furious
bombardment of the Legations continues.
Eight audiences have been given to-day to Jung Lu and five to Prince
Tuan. All the other members of the Grand Council sat with folded hands,
suggesting nothing.
_20th Day_ (_14th August_), 5 P.M.—Tungchou has fallen and now the
foreigners have begun to bombard the city. The Grand Council has been
summoned to five meetings to-day in the Palace of Peaceful Longevity:
Her Majesty is reported to be starting for Kalgan. At the hour of the
Monkey (4 P.M.) Duke Lan burst into the Palace, unannounced, and shouted,
“Old Buddha, the foreign devils have come!” Close upon his footsteps
came Kang Yi, who reported that a large force of turbaned soldiery were
encamped in the enclosure of the Temple of Heaven. “Perhaps they are our
Mahommedan braves from Kansuh,” said Her Majesty, “come to demolish the
Legations?” “No,” replied Kang Yi, “they are foreign devils. Your Majesty
must escape at once, or they will murder you.”
_Later, midnight._—There has just been an Audience given to the Grand
Council in the Palace, at which Kang Yi, Chao Shu-ch’iao and Wang
Wen-shao were present. “Where are the others?” said the Old Buddha.
“Gone, I suppose, everyone to his own home, leaving us here, Mother and
Son,[94] to look after ourselves as best we may. At all events, you three
must now accompany me on my journey.” Turning to Wang Wen-shao, she
added:—“You are too old, and I could not bear the thought of exposing
you to such hardships. Make such speed as you can and join me later.”
Then to the other two she said, “You two are good riders. It will be your
duty never to lose sight of me for an instant.” Wang Wen-shao replied, “I
will hasten after Your Majesty to the best of my ability.” The Emperor,
who seemed surprisingly alert and vigorous, here joined in, “Yes, by
all means, follow as quickly as you can.” This ended the audience, but
the actual hour of Her Majesty’s departure remains uncertain. Jung Lu’s
attendance was impossible because he was busy trying to rally our forces.
_21st Day_ (_15th August_).—Wen Lien tells me that the Old Buddha arose
this morning at the Hour of the Tiger (3 A.M.) after only an hour’s rest,
and dressed herself hurriedly in the common blue cloth garments of a
peasant woman, which she had ordered to be prepared. For the first time
in her life, her hair was done up in the Chinese fashion. “Who could ever
have believed that it would come to this?” she said. Three common carts
were brought into the Palace; their drivers wore no official hats.
[Illustration: FACSIMILE OF A FRAGMENT OF THE DIARY.]
All the Concubines were summoned to appear before Her Majesty at 3.30
A.M.; she had previously issued a decree that none of them would
accompany her for the present. The Pearl Concubine, who has always been
insubordinate to the Old Buddha, came with the rest and actually dared
to suggest that the Emperor should remain in Peking. The Empress was in
no mood for argument. Without a moment’s hesitation, she shouted to the
eunuchs on duty, “Throw this wretched minion down the well!” At this the
Emperor, who was greatly grieved, fell on his knees in supplication, but
the Empress angrily bade him desist, saying that this was no time for
bandying words. “Let her die at once,” she said, “as a warning to all
undutiful children, and to those ‘hsiao’ birds[95] who, when fledged,
peck out their own mother’s eyes.” So the eunuchs Li and Sung took the
Pearl Concubine and cast her down the large well which is just outside
the Ning Shou Palace.
Then to the Emperor, who stood trembling with grief and wrath, she
said: “Get into your cart and hang up the screen, so that you be not
recognised” (he was wearing a long gown of black gauze and black cloth
trousers). Swiftly then the Old Buddha gave her orders. “P’u Lun, you
will ride on the shaft of the Emperor’s cart and look after him. I shall
travel in the other cart, and you, P’u Chün (the Heir Apparent) will ride
on the shaft. Li Lien-ying, I know you are a poor rider, but you must
shift as best you can to keep up with us.” At this critical moment it
seemed as if the Old Buddha alone retained her presence of mind. “Drive
your hardest,” she said to the carters, “and if any foreign devil should
stop you, say nothing. I will speak to them and explain that we are but
poor country folk, fleeing to our homes. Go first to the Summer Palace.”
Thereupon the carts started, passing out through the northern gate of
the Palace (The Gate of Military Prowess) while all the members of the
Household and the Imperial Concubines prostrated themselves, wishing
their Majesties a long life. Only the three Grand Councillors followed
on horseback, a rendezvous having been arranged for other officials
at the Summer Palace. My neighbour Wen Lien, the Comptroller of the
Household, followed their Majesties at a distance, to see them safely out
of the city. They left by the “Te-sheng-men,” or Gate of Victory, on the
north-west side of the city, where for a time their carts were blocked in
the dense mass of refugees passing out that way.
4 P.M.—The Sacred Chariot of Her Majesty reached the Summer Palace at
about 8 A.M. and Their Majesties remained there an hour. Meanwhile, at 6
A.M., Prince Ch’ing, just before starting for the Summer Palace, sent a
flag of truce to the Japanese Pigmies who were bombarding the city close
to the “Chi Hua” Gate on the east of the city. The gate was thrown open
and the troops swarmed in.
My son En Ming was on duty at the Summer Palace with a few of his men,
when the Imperial party arrived, all bedraggled and dust-begrimed. The
soldiers at the Palace gate could not believe that this was really their
Imperial mistress until the Old Buddha angrily asked whether they failed
to recognise her. The carts were driven in through the side entrance, and
tea was served. Her Majesty gave orders that all curios, valuables, and
ornaments were to be packed at once and sent off to Jehol; at the same
time she despatched one of the eunuchs to Peking to tell the Empress[96]
to bury quickly every scrap of treasure in the Forbidden City, hiding it
in the courtyard of the Ning Shou Palace.
The Princes Tuan, Ching, Na, and Su joined Their Majesties at the Summer
Palace; a few Dukes were there also, as well as Wu Shu-mei and Pu Hsing
of the higher officials. About a dozen Secretaries from the different
Boards, and three Clerks to the Grand Council, accompanied the Court
from this point. General Ma Yu-k’un, with a force of 1,000 men escorted
Their Majesties to Kalgan, and there were, in addition, several hundreds
of Prince Tuan’s “Heavenly Tiger” Bannermen, fresh from their fruitless
attacks on the Legations. Jung Lu is still endeavouring to rally his
troops.
I have just heard of the death of my old friend, Hsü T’ung, the Imperial
Tutor and Grand Secretary. He has hanged himself in his house and
eighteen of his womenfolk have followed his example. He was a true
patriot and a fine scholar. Alas, alas! From all sides I hear the
same piteous story; the proudest of the Manchus have come to the same
miserable end. The betrothed of Prince Ch’un, whom he was to have married
next month, has committed suicide, with all her family. It is indeed
pitiful.[97]
Thus, for the second time in her life, the Old Buddha has had to flee
from her Sacred City, like the Son of Heaven in the Chou Dynasty, who
“fled with dust-covered head.” The failure of the southern provinces
to join in the enterprise has ruined us. Prince Tuan was much to blame
in being anti-Chinese. As Confucius said, “By the lack of broad-minded
tolerance in small matters, a great design has been frustrated.” After
all, Jung Lu was right—the Boxers’ so-called magic was nothing but
child’s talk. They were in reality no stronger than autumn thistledown.
Alas, the bright flower of spring does not bloom twice!
[Illustration: DAUGHTERS OF A HIGH MANCHU OFFICIAL OF THE COURT.]
My wife and the other women, stupidly obstinate like all females, intend
to take opium. I cannot prevent them from doing so, but, for myself, I
have no intention of doing anything so foolish. Already the foreign
brigands are looting in other quarters of the city, but they will never
find my hidden treasure, and I shall just remain here, old and feeble as
I am. My son, En Ch’u, has disappeared since yesterday, and nearly all my
servants have fled. There is no one to prepare my evening meal.
(_Here the Diary ends. The old man was murdered by his eldest son that
same evening; all his women folk had previously taken poison and died._)
_Vermilion Decree of H.M. Kuang Hsü, 24th day, 12th Moon of
25th year (January, 1900), making Prince Tuan’s son Heir
Apparent._
“In days of our tender infancy we succeeded by adoption to the
Great Inheritance, and were favoured by the Empress Dowager,
who graciously ‘suspended the curtain’ and administered the
Government as Regent, earnestly labouring the while at our
education in all matters. Since we assumed the reins of
government, the nation has passed through severe crises, and
our sole desire has been to govern the Empire wisely in order
to requite the material benevolence of Her Majesty as well as
to fulfil the arduous task imposed on us by His late Majesty.
“But since last year our constitution has been sore-stricken
with illness, and we have undergone much anxiety lest the
business of the State should suffer in consequence. Reflecting
on the duty we owe to our sacred ancestors and to the Empire,
we have therefore besought Her Majesty to administer the
Government during the past year. Our sickness has so far
shown no signs of improvement, and it has prevented us from
performing all the important sacrifices at the ancestral
shrines and at the altars of the gods of the soil.
“And now at this acute crisis, the spectacle of Her Majesty,
labouring without cease in the profound seclusion of her
Palace, without relaxation or thought of rest, has filled us
with dismay. We can neither sleep nor eat in the anxiety of our
thoughts. Reflecting on the arduous labours of our ancestors
from whom this great Heritage has descended to us, we are
overwhelmed by our unfitness for this task of government. We
bear in mind (and the fact is well known to all our subjects)
that when first we succeeded by adoption to the Throne, we
were honoured with a Decree from the Empress Dowager to the
effect that so soon as we should have begotten an heir, he
should become the adopted son of His Majesty T’ung-Chih. But
our protracted sickness renders it impossible for us to hope
for a son, so that His late Majesty remains without heir. This
question of the succession is of transcendent importance, and
our grief, as we ponder the situation, fills us with feelings
of the deepest self-abasement, and renders illusive all hope of
our recovery from this sickness.
“We have accordingly prostrated ourselves in supplication
before our Sacred Mother, begging that she may be pleased to
select some worthy person from among the Princes of the Blood
as heir to His Majesty T’ung-Chih, in order that the Great
Inheritance may duly revert to him. As the result of our
repeated entreaties Her Majesty has graciously consented, and
has appointed P’u Chün, son of Prince Tuan, as heir by adoption
to His late Majesty. Our gratitude at this is unbounded, and
obediently we obey her behests, hereby appointing P’u Chün to
be Heir Apparent and successor to the Throne. Let this Decree
be made known throughout the Empire.”
Seldom has history seen so tragically pathetic a document. It was not
only a confession of his own illegality and an abdication, but his
death-warrant, clear writ for all men to read. And the poor victim must
perforce thank his executioner and praise the “maternal benevolence” of
the woman whose uncontrollable love of power had wrecked his life from
the cradle.
_Memorial from the Censorate at Peking to the Throne at Hsi-an,
describing the arrest of En Hai, the murderer of the German
Minister, Baron von Ketteler._[98]
This Memorial affords a striking illustration of the sympathy which
animated, and still animates, many of those nearest to the Throne
in regard to the Boxers and their anti-foreign crusade, and their
appreciation of the real sentiments of the Empress Dowager, even in
defeat. It also throws light on the Chinese official’s idea of heroism in
a soldier.
“A spy in Japanese employ, engaged in searching for looted
articles in the pawnshops of the district in Japanese military
occupation, found among the unredeemed pledges in one shop a
watch bearing Baron von Ketteler’s monogram. The pawnbroker
said that it had been pledged by a bannerman named En Hai, who
lived at a carters’ inn of the Tartar city. This spy was a
man named Te Lu, a writer attached to the Manchu Field Force,
of the 8th squad of the ‘Ting’ Company. He went at once and
informed the Japanese, who promptly sent a picquet to the
inn mentioned. Two or three men were standing about in the
courtyard, and the soldiers asked one of them whether En Hai
was there. ‘I’m the man,’ said he, whereupon they took him
prisoner. Under examination, En was perfectly calm and showed
no sort of emotion. The presiding Magistrate enquired ‘Was
it you who slew the German Minister?’ He replied ‘I received
orders from my Sergeant to kill every foreigner that came up
the street. I am a soldier, and I only know it is my duty to
obey orders. On that day I was with my men, some thirty of
them, in the street, when a foreigner came along in a sedan
chair. At once I took up my stand a little to the side of
the street, and, taking careful aim, fired into the chair.
Thereupon the bearers fled: we went up to the chair, dragged
the foreigner out, and saw that he was dead. I felt a watch in
his breast pocket and took it as my lawful share; my comrades
appropriated a revolver, some rings and other articles. I never
thought that this watch would lead to my detection, but I am
glad to die for having killed one of the enemies of my country.
Please behead me at once.’
“The interpreter asked him whether he was drunk at the time.
He laughed and said, ‘Wine’s a fine thing, and I can put away
four or five catties at a time, but that day I had not touched
a drop. Do you suppose I would try to screen myself on the
score of being in liquor?’ This En Hai appears to have been
an honest fellow; his words were brave and dignified, so that
the bystanders all realised that China is not without heroes
in the ranks of her army. On the following day he was handed
over to the Germans, and beheaded on the scene of his exploit.
We, your Memorialists, feel that Your Majesties should be made
acquainted with his meritorious behaviour, and we therefore
report the above facts. We are of opinion that his name should
not be permitted to fall into oblivion, and we trust that Your
Majesties may be pleased to confer upon him honours as in the
case of one who has fallen in battle with his face to the foe.”
XVIII
IN MEMORY OF TWO BRAVE MEN
The Memorial of the Censors given in the last chapter, recording the
arrest and execution of the Manchu soldier who shot the German Minister
defenceless in his chair, took occasion to congratulate the Empress
and the nation on possessing such brave defenders; and to do the man
justice, he met his end with a fine courage. But with fuller knowledge
and a clearer insight, the scholars of the Empire might well put forward
claims to real heroism, moral courage of the rarest kind, in the case
of Yüan Ch’ang and Hsü Ching-ch’eng, the two Ministers who, as we have
shown, so nobly laid down their lives for what they knew to be their
country’s highest good. So long as China can breed men like these, so
long as the Confucian system contains moral force sufficient to produce
Stoic scholars of this type, the nation has no cause to despair of its
future. We make no apology for insisting on the claims of these two men
to our grateful admiration, or for reproducing their last Memorials, in
which they warned the Old Buddha of her folly, and, by denouncing the
Boxers, braved all the forces of anarchy and savagery which surged about
the Dragon Throne. Already their good name stands high in the esteem of
their countrymen. _Et prevalebit_: their courage and unselfish patriotism
have been recognised by their canonisation in the Pantheon of China’s
worthies, under an Edict of the present Regent.
Shortly after their execution the following circular letter _pour faire
part_ was addressed by the sons of Yüan Ch’ang to the relatives and
friends of the family:—
_Notice sent by the Yüan family to their relatives regarding
the death of Yüan Ch’ang, September, 1900._