foreign manager and engineer of the railway were presented to her, and
received her thanks for the satisfactory arrangements made throughout
the journey. She then entered her chair, a larger and finer conveyance
than that supplied to the Emperor, and was borne away towards the Palace;
by her side ran one of her favourite eunuchs repeatedly calling Her
Majesty’s attention to objects of interest. Whenever foreigners were in
sight he would inform Her Majesty of the fact, and by one he was heard
distinctly to say: “Look! Old Buddha, look quickly at that foreign
devil,” whereupon the Empress smiled and bowed most affably. Passing
through the Southern gate of the Chinese city, her bearers carried her
straight to the large enceinte of the Tartar city wall at the Ch’ienmen,
where stands the shrine dedicated to the tutelary God of the Manchus.
Here crowds of foreigners were in waiting on the wall. Looking down on
the courtyard towards the shrine, they saw the Old Buddha leave her
chair and fall upon her knees to burn incense before the image of the
God of War, whilst several Taoist priests chanted the ritual. Rising she
next looked up towards the foreigners, smiling and bowing, before she
was carried away through the gate into the precincts of the Forbidden
City. No sooner had she reached the inner palace (the Ning Shou kung) at
about 2 P.M., than she commanded the eunuchs to commence digging up the
treasure which had been buried there at the time of her flight; she was
gratified beyond measure to find that it had indeed remained untouched.
Next, with an eye not only upon her future relations with foreigners
but also on public opinion throughout the Empire, she issued a Decree
conferring posthumous honours on the “Pearl concubine,” who, as it will
be remembered, was thrown down a well by her orders on the morning of the
Court’s flight from the Palace. In this Decree Her Majesty praises the
virtue and admirable courage of the dead woman, which “led her virtuously
to commit suicide when unable to catch up the Court on its departure,”
unwilling as she was to witness the destruction and pollution of the
ancestral shrines. Her trustworthy conduct was therefore rewarded by
the granting of a posthumous title and by promotion of one step in rank
in the Imperial harem. The Decree was generally regarded as fulfilling
all reasonable requirements of atonement towards the deceased, for in
China the dead yet live and move in a shadowy, but none the less real,
hierarchy. Alive, a “Pearl concubine” more or less counted for little
when weighed against the needs of the Old Buddha’s policies; once dead,
however, her spirit must needs be conciliated and compensated.
Many Europeans who had witnessed the arrival of the Empress Dowager,
remained at the railway station to see the unloading of her long baggage
train, a most interesting and instructive sight. First were discharged
the yellow chairs of the young Empress and the Princess Imperial, and
four green chairs with yellow borders for the principal concubines;
the other ladies of the Court followed in official carts, two to each
vehicle. There were about ninety of them altogether, and the arrangements
for their conveyance were accompanied by no little noise and confusion,
the loquacity of some of the elder ladies being most noticeable. After
their departure the attention of the eunuchs and minor officials was
directed to the huge pile of the Empress Dowager’s personal baggage,
which included her cooking utensils and household articles in daily
use. This operation, as well as the removal of a very large quantity of
bullion, (every case of which was marked with the name of the province or
city that had sent it as tribute), was for a time superintended by the
Grand Council. But as the work was enough to last for several hours, it
was not long before, led by Jung Lu, they entered their chairs and left
for the City. It was noticed that Jung Lu seemed very infirm, and was
supported as he walked by two attendants of almost gigantic stature.
From Cheng-ting fu to Pao-ting fu, and thence to Peking, the Court
travelled, for the first time in its history, by train. The following
description of the journey is reprinted, by kind permission of the editor
of _The Times_, from an article published in that paper in March, 1902.
It shows an interesting side of the Empress Dowager’s character, that
of the thrifty mistress of her goods and chattels, and gives a clear-cut
impression of that vigorous personality which devoted the same close
attention to details of transport and domestic economy as to niceties of
Court ceremonial or historical precedents on vital questions of State;
characteristics which inevitably suggest a marked resemblance between the
Old Buddha and _le petit Caporal_.
“Early on December 31st the Court arrived at Cheng-ting fu,
escorted by a large body of cavalry and accompanied by an
enormous suite of officials, eunuchs and servants. The baggage
was carried by a train of carts, estimated by an eye-witness
at three thousand. The eunuchs numbered between three and four
hundred, and of cooks and other kitchen servants there were
almost as many. To provide accommodation for such a mass of
people was impossible, especially as all the best quarters
in the town had already been occupied by the high officials
who, with their retainers, had come from the north to welcome
the Empress Dowager on her return. For three days the Court
rested in Cheng-ting fu, during which time the scene was one
of indescribable confusion; baggage, stacked haphazard, filled
every available corner, eunuchs and servants camping around
and upon it, stolidly enduring much physical discomfort with
the apathy peculiar to Asiatics. Yet, so great was the cold
(on the night of January 1st the thermometer stood at two
degrees (Fahrenheit) below zero) that many of these wayfarers
gave way to lamentations and tears. Officials of the lower and
middle grades, unable to obtain a lodging, were compelled to
pass these days in such makeshift shelter as they could find
in the vicinity of the railway station, where swarmed a mob of
undisciplined soldiery. On the second night a fire broke out in
the stables of the Imperial residence, which, though eventually
checked before much damage was done, added greatly to the
general disorder, and might well have had serious results in
the absence of all organisation and control. The definite
announcement of the Court’s intention to leave for Pao-ting fu
on the 3rd of January was received with unmistakable relief by
the hungry, motley crowd which represented the pomp and pride
of Asia’s greatest Empire.
“From the Yellow River to the railway terminus at Cheng-ting
fu—a distance of about two hundred and fifty miles—the
ever-growing Imperial procession had travelled almost
continuously in chairs, litters, carts, and on horse-back,
affording a spectacle which recalled in many of its chief
characteristics those of Europe’s mediæval pageantry as
described by Scott. Every Manchu Prince had a retinue of
horsemen varying from thirty to a hundred in number; along the
frost-bound, uneven tracks which serve for roads in Northern
China, an unending stream of laden waggons creaked and groaned
through the short winter’s day, and on, guided by soldier
torch-bearers, through bitter nights to the appointed stopping
places. But for the Empress Dowager and the Emperor, with
the Chief Eunuch and the ladies of the Court, there was easy
journeying and a way literally made smooth. Throughout its
entire distance the road over which the Imperial palanquins
were borne had been converted into a smooth, even surface of
shining clay, soft and noiseless under foot; not only had every
stone been removed, but as the procession approached gangs of
men were employed in brushing the surface with feather brooms.
At intervals of about ten miles well-appointed rest-houses
had been built, where all manner of food was prepared. The
cost of this King’s highway, quite useless, of course, for
the ordinary traffic of the country, was stated by a native
contractor to amount roughly to fifty Mexican dollars for every
eight yards—say £1,000 a mile—the clay having to be carried in
some places from a great distance. As an example of the lavish
expenditure of the Court and its officials, in a land where
squalor is a pervading feature, this is typical.
“The hour for leaving Cheng-ting fu was fixed by the Empress
Dowager at 9.30 A.M. on January 3rd. It is significant of the
character of this remarkable woman, now in her sixty-seventh
year, that even in matters of detail she leaves nothing to
chance, nothing to others; the long arm of her unquestioned
authority reaches from the Throne literally to the servants’
quarters. Without creating any impression of fussiness,
she makes a distinctly feminine personality felt, and the
master-mind which has guided the destinies of China for the
last forty years by no means disdains to concern itself in
minor questions of household commissariat and transport. It is
impossible not to reflect what such a woman might have been,
what she might have done for her people, had there come into
her life some accident or influence to show her, in their true
light, the corruption, dishonesty, and cold-blooded cruelty of
her reign.
“The departure of the Court by a special train, long since
prepared for its reception by the Belgian railway authorities
and Sheng Hsüan-huai, was fixed for 9.30 A.M. in accordance
with Her Majesty’s orders; that Imperial and imperious lady,
however, made her appearance at the station at seven o’clock,
accompanied by the young Empress, the Imperial concubine,
and the ladies-in-waiting. The Emperor had preceded her, and
upon her arrival knelt on the platform to perform respectful
obeisance, in the presence of an interested crowd. The next
two hours were spent by the Empress, who showed no signs of
fatigue, in supervision of the arrangements for despatching
the vast accumulation of her personal baggage, and in holding
informal audiences with various high dignitaries, military
and civil, on the platform. Amongst others she sent for M.
Jadot, and spent some time in friendly conversation with him,
expressing great satisfaction at the excellent arrangements
made for her comfort, and pleasure at exchanging the sedan
chair for her luxuriously-appointed drawing-room car. She took
pains to impress upon the engineer-in-chief the importance
which she attached to keeping the Court’s baggage and effects
within reach, evincing on this subject much determination of a
good-humoured kind.
“Eventually, after the despatch of four freight trains, her
mind was relieved of this anxiety, but it was to be clearly
understood that the same personal supervision would be
exercised at Pao-ting fu, for in no circumstances could the
impedimenta be sent on in advance to Peking. There is a touch
of feminine nature in this incident which can hardly fail to
bring the Empress Dowager into some degree of kinship with
her fellow-women in other lands; there is also an implied
reflection on the honesty of persons in attendance on the Court
which is not without significance.
“The scene upon the platform was one of remarkable interest.
In utter subversion of all accepted ideas in regard to the
seclusion and privacy in which the Chinese Court is supposed to
live, move, and have its being, there was on this occasion—and
indeed throughout the journey—no sign of either attempt or
wish to guard Their Majesties from observation and intrusion.
The crowd, quietly inquisitive, but showing no inclination
to demonstration of any sort, came and went at its pleasure;
Yüan Shih-kai’s braves, who to the number of about a thousand
travelled to Peking as the Empress Dowager’s bodyguard,
crowded around the Imperial party, invading even their railway
carriages. While the ruler of the Empire held audience with
some of its highest officials, none of their retainers were
employed, as might have been expected, in keeping the people
at a respectful distance; the scene, in fact, bore striking
testimony to that democratic side of the Chinese character
which cannot but impress itself on every foreign visitor to
a Viceroy’s or magistrate’s yamên; in the present instance,
however, it must have been, for all concerned, a new and
remarkable experience.
“To the native spectators, the ladies of the Court with
their eunuch attendants were as much objects of interest
as the foreign railway officials; the Imperial concubine,
‘Chin’ (or ‘Lustrous’) Kuei fei, a lively young person of
pleasing appearance, attracting much attention. This lady,
gaily clad and with lavishly painted face, bestowed upon
everything connected with the train an amount of attention
which augurs well for the future of railway enterprise in
China, running from car to car and chatting volubly with the
ladies-in-waiting. All the ladies of the Court wore pearls in
profusion—those of the Empress being particularly fine—and all
smoked cigarettes in place of the time-honoured water-pipe.
Herein again, for the optimistically inclined, may be found a
harbinger of progress. During the Empress Dowager’s audiences,
lasting sometimes over a quarter of an hour at a time, the
Emperor stood close at her side; invariably silent, generally
listless, though his expression when animated is described
as conveying an impression of remarkable intelligence. The
young Empress has good features, marred, in European eyes, by
excessive use of paint; she, too, appeared to be melancholy,
and showed but little interest in her surroundings. The Emperor
and both Empresses were simply dressed in quiet coloured silks.
“The special train in which, punctually at 9.30 A.M., the
rulers of China left for their capital consisted of a
locomotive and twenty-one carriages, arranged in the following
order:—Nine freight cars laden with servants, sedan chairs,
carts, mules, &c.; a guard’s van, for employés of the railway;
two first-class carriages (Imperial Princes); Emperor’s special
carriage; first-class carriage for high officials in attendance
(Jung Lu, Yüan Shih-k’ai, General Sung Ch’ing, Lu Ch’uan-lin,
Governor Ts’en of Shansi, Ministers of the Household,
and others); Empress Dowager’s special carriage; special
carriages of the young Empress and the Imperial concubine; two
second-class carriages, for eunuchs in attendance; first-class
carriage for the Chief Eunuch, and the ‘Service’ carriage of M.
Jadot.
“The special carriages had been prepared at great expense under
instructions issued by the Director-General of Railways, Sheng.
Those of the Empress Dowager, the Emperor, and his consort,
were luxuriously furnished with costly curios and upholstered
in Imperial yellow silk; each had its throne, divan, and
reception room. Heavy window curtains had been thoughtfully
provided in the carriages intended for the ladies’ use; they
were not required, however, as none of the party showed any
desire for privacy during the entire journey. While travelling,
the carriage of the Empress Dowager was the general rendezvous
of all the ladies, attended by their eunuchs, the Empress
Dowager spending much of the time in conversation with the
Chief Eunuch—of somewhat notorious character—and the Emperor.
“The Empress Dowager possesses in a marked degree a
characteristic frequently observed in masterful natures: she
is extremely superstitious. The soothsayers and astrologers
of the Court at Peking enjoy no sinecure; on the other hand,
more attention is paid to their advice than that which the
average memorialist obtains, and the position of necromancer
to the Throne is not unprofitable. On the present occasion
the sages-in-ordinary had fixed the auspicious hour for the
Sovereign’s return to Peking at 2 P.M. on January 7th; M. Jadot
was accordingly requested to make the necessary arrangements
to this end, and the Empress Dowager repeatedly impressed upon
him the importance which she attached to reaching the Yung-ting
gate of the city at that particular hour. To do this, as the
engineer-in-chief pointed out, would entail starting from
Pao-ting-fu at 7 A.M., but the determined ruler of China was
not to be put off by any such considerations. At 6 A.M. this
wonderful woman arrived at the station; it was freezing hard,
and the sand storm was raging violently; soldiers bearing
lanterns and torches led the way for the chair-bearers, since
the day had not yet dawned. The scene in all its details
appeals powerfully to the imagination. Once more the baggage
question monopolised the Empress Dowager’s attention; her last
freight train, laden with spoils of the southern provinces,
preceded the Imperial train by only twenty minutes. It will be
realised that the august lady’s requirements in the matter of
personal supervision of her property added responsibility of a
most serious kind to the cares—at no time light—of the railway
staff.
“An incident occurred at Pao-ting fu which throws a strong
side-light upon the Empress Dowager’s character. The high
Chinese officials above mentioned, who travelled in the
first-class carriage between the Emperor’s special car and
that of the Empress, finding themselves somewhat pressed for
space, consulted the railway officials and obtained another
first-class compartment, which was accordingly added to the
train. Her Majesty immediately noticing this, called for
explanations, which failed to meet with her approval. The
extra carriage was removed forthwith, Yüan Shih-k’ai and
his colleagues being reluctantly compelled to resume their
uncomfortably crowded quarters; to these Her Majesty paid
a visit of inspection before leaving the station, making
enquiries as to the travellers’ comfort, and expressing
complete satisfaction at the arrangements generally.
“At 11.30 A.M., punctual to the minute, the train arrived
at Feng-T’ai, where the Luhan line from Lu Ko-ch’iao meets
the Peking-Tien-tsin Railway; here the British authorities
took charge. The Empress Dowager was much reassured by the
excellence of the arrangements and the punctuality observed;
nevertheless, she continued to display anxiety as to the
hour of reaching Peking, frequently comparing her watch with
railway time. To M. Jadot, who took leave of Their Majesties
at Feng-T’ai, she expressed again the satisfaction she had
derived from this her first journey by rail, promising to renew
the experience before long and to be present at the official
opening of communication between Hankow and the capital. She
presented five thousand dollars for distribution among the
European and Chinese employés of the line, and decorated M.
Jadot with the order of the Double Dragon, Second Class.
“From Feng-T’ai the railway under British control runs directly
to the main south gate of the Tartar city (Ch’ienmen), but it
had been laid down by the soothsayers and astrologers aforesaid
that, for good augury, and to conform with tradition, the
Imperial party must descend at Machiapu and enter the Chinese
city by the direct road to the Palace through the Yung-ting
Men. At midday, therefore, leaving the railway, the Court
started in chairs for the city, in the midst of a pageant as
magnificent as the resources of Chinese officialdom permit.
The scene has been described by European writers as imposing,
but a Japanese correspondent refers to its _mise-en-scène_ as
suitable to a rustic theatre in his own country. Be this as it
may, the Empress Dowager, reverently welcomed by the Emperor,
who had preceded her, as usual, entered the city, from which
she had fled so ignominiously eighteen months before, at the
hour named by her spiritual advisers as propitious. Present
appearances at Peking, as well as the chastened tone of
Imperial Edicts, indicate that the wise men were right in their
choice.
“It may be added, in conclusion, as a sign of the times, that
the Empress Dowager’s sleeping compartment, prepared under the
direction of Sheng Hsüan-huai, was furnished with a European
bed. _Per contra_, it contained also materials for opium
smoking, of luxurious yet workmanlike appearance.”
Within a week or so of the Court’s return, the representatives of the
foreign Powers were duly received in audience under the conditions named
in the Peace Protocol. It was observed that the Old Buddha assumed, as
of old, the highest seat on the Throne daïs, the Emperor occupying a
lower and almost insignificant position. At the subsequent reception of
the Minister’s wives, in the Pavilion of Tranquil Longevity, the wife of
the Doyen of the Diplomatic Corps presented an address to “welcome Her
Imperial Majesty back to her beautiful Capital.” The document was most
cordially, almost effusively, worded, and showed that the astute and
carefully pre-arranged measures taken by the Empress to conciliate the
foreign Powers by adroit flattery and “allurements” had already attained
their desired effect. Already the horrors of the siege, the insults and
the arrogance of 1900, were forgotten; already the representatives of the
Powers were prepared, as of old, to vie with each other in attempts to
purchase Chinese favour by working each against the other.
In receiving the address of the ladies of the Diplomatic Body, Her
Majesty created a marked impression by the emotion with which she
referred to her affectionate regard for Europeans in general and her
visitors in particular. With every evidence of complete sincerity she
explained that a “Revolution in the Palace” had compelled her to flee
from Peking; she deeply regretted the inconvenience and hardships to
which her good friends of the Foreign Legations had been so unfortunately
subjected, and she hoped for a renewal of the old cordial relations.
The foreign ladies left the audience highly satisfied with the Empress
Dowager for her condescension, and with themselves at being placed in
a position to display such magnanimity. This audience was the first of
many similar occasions, and reference to the numerous works in which the
social side of Her Majesty’s subsequent relations with Europeans have
been described will show that the Old Buddha had not greatly erred when
she assured Jung Lu of the value of ancient classical methods in dealing
with barbarians, and promised him that all would readily be forgiven and
forgotten in the tactful exercise of condescending courtesies.
Life settled down then into the old grooves, and all went on as before
in the Capital of China, the garrisons of the Allies soon becoming a
familiar feature in the streets to which gradually the traders and
surviving Chinese residents returned. Once more began the farce of
foreign intercourse with the so-called Government of the Celestial
Empire, and with it were immediately renewed all the intrigues and
international jealousies which alone enable its rulers to maintain some
sort of equilibrium in the midst of conflicting pressures.
The power behind the Throne, from this time until his death, was
undoubtedly Jung Lu, but the Foreign Legations, still confused by
memories and echoes of the siege, and suspicious of all information which
did not conform to their expressed ideas of the causes of the Boxer
Rising, failed to realise the truth, and saw in him a suspect who should
by rights have suffered punishment with his fellow conspirators. But the
actual facts of the case, and his individual actions as recorded beyond
dispute in the diary of His Excellency Ching Shan, and unmistakably
confirmed by other independent witnesses, were not then available in
the Chancelleries. Accordingly, when Jung Lu first paid his formal
official calls upon the Foreign Ministers, he was anything but gratified
at the reception accorded to him. In vain it was that he assured one
member of the Diplomatic body, with whom he had formerly been on fairly
good terms, that as Heaven was his witness he had done nothing in 1900
except his utmost to defend and save the Legations; his statements were
entirely disbelieved, and so greatly was he chagrined at the injustice
done him, that he begged the Empress Dowager in all seriousness to allow
him to retire from the Grand Council. But Tzŭ Hsi, fully realising the
situation, assured him of her complete confidence, and in a highly
laudatory decree refused his request:—