interesting to recall the main features of his Memorial against the
Treaty of Livadia with Russia. By this Treaty, negotiated by Ch’ung Hou
under the direct instructions of the Empress Dowager, Ili was to be
retroceded to China upon payment of five million roubles, Russia securing
Kuldja in exchange, with the right to open Consulates at certain places
in the New Territory and on the Kansu frontier. Russian goods were also
to be free of duty in Chinese Turkestan, and a new trade route was to be
opened up through Central China, viâ Hsi-an in Shensi. When the terms of
the Treaty became known, a storm of angry criticism was directed against
the Manchu Ambassador: Tzŭ Hsi promptly ordered him to be cashiered and
arrested for disregard of her instructions. The whole matter was referred
to the Grand Council, who were directed to consult with Prince Ch’un and
the various Government Boards. Chang Chih-tung, who was at this time a
junior official in the Department of Public Instruction, drew attention
to himself and practically decided the course of events by the advice
given in his lengthy Memorial on the subject. The result of the advice
therein submitted was, that a son of Tseng Kuo-fan was sent to Russia
to negotiate a new Treaty, in which the objectionable clauses were
eventually abandoned. Ch’ung Hou considered himself lucky that, as the
result of Russia’s diplomatic intervention on his behalf, he escaped with
his life.
Chang’s famous Memorial is typical of the mental processes and puerile
naïveté of the _literati_. It began by showing that if the Treaty of
Livadia were ratified, the whole of China would be open to Russian
troops, who would enter the country as merchants accompanying caravans
(since the Treaty expressly provided for merchants carrying fire-arms),
and that the retrocession of Ili would prove valueless to China in
course of time, inasmuch as Russia would remain in command of all
strategic points. Chang urged that China could repudiate the Treaty
without danger to herself, for several good reasons; the first being
the Imperial prerogative and the unpopularity of the Treaty, whereby
the martial spirit of the Chinese people would be aroused, and the
second, that the future security of the Empire justified the adoption of
right and reasonable precautions. He recommended that, in order to show
that the displeasure of the Sovereign was sincere, Ch’ung Hou should
be decapitated forthwith; this would be a clear intimation that his
negotiations were disavowed; an excellent precedent existed in the case
of Ch’i Ying,[138] who had been permitted to commit suicide under similar
circumstances by the Emperor Hsien Feng.
As regards Russia’s position in the matter, he was of opinion that China
had earned the contempt of the whole world by allowing herself to be so
easily intimidated. The Russian Minister at Peking might talk as loudly
as he liked about hauling down his flag, but this was only bluff, and if
he really desired to take his departure he should be allowed to do so.
China should then address an identical Note to all the Powers protesting
against Russia’s action, which Note would be published throughout the
civilised world. Russia had been weakened by her war with Turkey, and the
life of her Sovereign was daily threatened by Nihilists. He was therefore
of opinion that she could by no means fight a successful war against
China.
Russia’s position in the neighbourhood of Ili by this Treaty would
eventually involve China in the loss of the New Territory. Now China
had not yet taken over Ili, and the Treaty had not been ratified by the
Sovereign, so that Russia could have no good ground for insisting upon
its terms; if, however, Russia were intent on compelling China to yield
or fight, it would be necessary to look to the defences of the Empire
in three directions, namely Turkestan, Kirin and Tientsin. As regards
Turkestan, Tso Tsung-t’ang’s victorious armies, which had just succeeded
in suppressing the Mahomedan rebellion after a campaign of several
years, would be quite capable of dealing with Russia’s forces were she
to attempt an invasion. As for Manchuria, it was too far from Russia’s
base of operations to render success even possible, while the stalwart
natives of the Eastern Provinces might be relied upon to dislodge her
should she eventually succeed in establishing a foothold. A few months
would certainly witness her irrevocable defeat. As to invading China by
sea, Russia’s Navy was not to be compared to that of other Powers, and if
the huge amount which had been spent by Li Hung-chang on armaments for
the Army and Navy were ever to be turned to any good account, now was
the time to do it. If at this juncture Li Hung-chang proved incapable of
dealing with the situation, he was for ever useless. The Throne should
direct him to prepare for war, and he should equip his troops with the
latest pattern of French artillery. If victorious, a Dukedom should be
his reward, and if defeated, his head should pay the penalty. The money
which would be saved by not carrying out the Treaty, might very well be
devoted to the equipment of the military forces.
Russia’s designs in Turkestan, he continued, threatened England no less
than China. If Li Hung-chang could persuade the British Minister that
England’s interests were identical with those of China, surely the
British Government’s assistance might be forthcoming? China possessed,
moreover, several distinguished generals, who should forthwith be
summoned to the capital, and given command of troops at different points
between Peking and Manchuria. It was high time that China’s prestige
should be made manifest and re-established. And in his peroration he
says:—
“I am not indulging in empty resounding phrases, or asking
Your Majesties to risk the Empire upon a single throw of the
dice, but the crisis daily increases in seriousness: Europe is
interfering in our sovereign rights, while even Japan threatens
to take territory from us. If now we submit to the arbitrary
proceedings of Russia, all the other Powers will imitate her
action, and we shall be compelled sooner or later to take up
arms in self-defence. The present, therefore, is the moment for
a decisive campaign; we have good chances of victory, and even
should we meet with defeat in the New Territory it would not
serve Russia greatly, for she could scarcely hope to penetrate
beyond the Great Wall, or to cross the border into Kansu, so
that, even if victorious, she would be severely embarrassed. If
we postpone action for a few years Tso Tsung-t’ang will be too
old to conduct military operations, and Li Hung-chang will be
also advancing in years. Russia will hem us in on all sides,
and our courage will suffer from our very inaction. It is
better to fight Russia to-day on our furthermost frontier, than
to wait until we have to give battle at the gates of Peking: it
will then be too late for repentance. We must fight sooner or
later, and in any case, we cannot consent to the retrocession
of Ili. Come what may, Ch’ung Hou must be beheaded. This is
not merely my private opinion, but the unanimous decision of
all your leading Statesmen. The provinces may work together
to prepare for war, all your servants may set an example of
courage. Our Foreign Office may clearly express and insist upon
our rights, but in the last instance the decision of affairs
rests with Your Majesty the Empress Dowager, to whom we must
needs look for a firm and consistent policy.”
In spite of its childish arguments and colossal ignorance of foreign
affairs, and in spite of the absurdity of allowing the nation’s military
operations to be criticised and dictated by a theoretical scholar, this
Memorial had a most remarkable effect on the opinion of the Court, and
Tzŭ Hsi commanded that its author should be consulted by the Foreign
Office on all important questions of State—a striking case of _parmi
les aveugles_. Chang was promoted to be Vice-President of a Board, and
within a year was made Governor of Shansi, where he further increased his
reputation by his entirely sincere attack upon opium smoking and poppy
cultivation. Throughout his career, safe in the comfortable seclusion of
his Yamên, and judging every question of foreign policy by the light
of the history of previous Dynasties, Chang Chih-tung was always of a
bellicose disposition on paper. He displayed it again in 1884, when he
advocated the war with France, and became acting Viceroy at Canton.
(He was a firm believer in the military genius of the swash-buckling
Li Ping-heng, even to the day when this notorious reactionary met his
death with the forlorn hope of the Boxers.) When the French troops were
defeated by the Chinese forces at Langshan, Chang claimed and received
no small credit for an event so unusual in Chinese modern history, and
became so elated thereby that he sent in a Memorial strongly recommending
that the victory should be followed up by an invasion of all French
territory between the Chinese frontier and Hanoi. When this advice was
rejected, he put in another bitter Memorial of remonstrance which created
an immense impression on public opinion. He denounced the peace which was
subsequently signed and by which China lost Annam, and he never forgave
his rival and opponent, Li Hung-chang, for his share in this result.
Chang’s share in the _coup d’état_ of 1898 aptly illustrates his
opportunism. It was he who from Wuch’ang originally recommended some
thirty “progressives” to the notice of the Emperor at the beginning of
that fateful year, and amongst these was Liang Ch’i-ch’ao, the chief
colleague and henchman of K’ang Yu-wei. Rejoiced at the great Viceroy’s
support, the Emperor summoned him to Peking to assume direction of the
new movement, hoping the more from his assistance as Chang’s views
always carried weight with the Empress Dowager. It is impossible to
say what course Chang would have followed had he come to Peking, or
what effect his presence might have had in preventing the collapse of
the Emperor’s plans, but as luck would have it, he had only proceeded
as far as Shanghai, when he was ordered back to his post in Hupei by
an Imperial Decree, which directed him first to settle a troublesome
missionary case that had just arisen. Immediately after this, the
dismissal of Weng T’ung-ho, and the appointment of Jung Lu to Tientsin,
showed him that a crisis was impending and that the reactionary party
held the better cards; he played therefore for his own hand, anticipating
that the Empress Dowager would speedily come to the front as leader
of the Manchu Conservatives. It was at this particular juncture that
he wrote and published his famous treatise on education, intended to
refute the arguments of a revolutionary pamphlet that was then being
widely circulated in the provinces of his jurisdiction. His treatise,
by its brilliant style rather than by its arguments, created a great
impression; its effect on the Chinese reader’s mind was to emphasise the
wisdom of learning everything possible of the material arts and forces of
Europe, while keeping the foreigner himself at arm’s length.
In 1900, at the urgent request of the Viceroy of Nanking (Lui K’un-yi)
and of Li Hung-chang, he agreed to join in a Memorial impeaching Prince
Tuan, and telegrams were exchanged between these high officials to
discuss the form which this document should take. In the first instance,
Chang had declined to protest against the Emperor’s deposition for the
reason, which he justified by historical precedent, that the suicide of
the Censor Wu K’o-tu, twelve years before, had justified Her Majesty in
placing a new Emperor on the Throne. He concurred in the decision of the
Nanking Viceroy to head off any Boxer rising in the Yangtsze Provinces,
but he was obviously uneasy at his own position in having to disobey the
Empress Dowager’s anti-foreign Decrees, and he hedged to the best of
his ability by beheading two prominent reformers at Wuch’ang. No sooner
had the form of the document impeaching Prince Tuan been practically
decided, than he took fright at the thought that the Prince might
eventually triumph and, as father of the Emperor-elect, wreak vengeance
on his enemies; he therefore telegraphed to Li Hung-chang at Shanghai,
begging that his signature be withheld from the Memorial. Li Hung-chang,
who dearly loved his joke, promptly sent off the Memorial with Chang
Chih-tung’s signature attached thereto, and then telegraphed informing
him that he had done so, and asking whether he desired that a second
telegram be sent to Her Majesty cancelling his signature? Chang was for
several days in a state of the greatest distress (which was only relieved
when the Boxers were finally routed), and his mood was not improved when
a pair of scrolls were sent to him anonymously, with inscriptions which
may be roughly translated as follows:—
“Full of patriotism, but quite devoid of any real ability or
intelligence.”
“As an administrator a bungler, but remarkable for originating
magnificent schemes.”
Before his death, Chang had achieved a curiously mixed reputation,
revered as he was by all scholars throughout the Empire, yet denounced
on all sides for administrative incapacity. As an instance of the
childish self-sufficiency which characterised him to the end, nothing is
more remarkable than the suggestion which he solemnly submitted to the
Throne, during the course of the peace negotiations for the Portsmouth
Treaty after the conclusion of the war between Russia and Japan. At this
juncture, the Empress Dowager had telegraphed inviting suggestions for
China’s future policy from all the high provincial authorities. Chang
telegraphed five suggestions in reply, one of which was that China should
come to an agreement with Japan to send two hundred thousand Japanese
troops to Manchuria, and in the event of Russia proceeding to attack
Chinese territory, that Japan should be requested to garrison Urga. This
was the idea of China’s foremost literary statesman in July, 1905, but
there were not lacking enemies of his who avowed that his political views
were considerably affected by the fact that he had contracted loans from
Japanese financiers. Whatever the cause of his views, he had reason to
change them completely before he died.
TSO TSUNG-T’ANG
The Chinese look upon Tseng Kuo-fan, the conqueror of the Taiping rebels,
as the greatest military commander in modern history; but they regard
Tso Tsung-t’ang, the hero of the long Mahomedan campaign, as very near
to him in glory. Both Generals were natives of Hunan (a fact which
seems to entitle the people of that province to assume something of a
truculent attitude to the rest of the Empire), and both were possessed of
indisputable qualities of leadership and organisation, remarkable enough
in men trained to literary pursuits. Both were beloved of the people for
their personal integrity, courage and justice.
Tso was born, one of nine sons in a poor family, in 1812. He took his
provincial graduate degree at the age of twenty; thereafter, he seems
to have abandoned literary work, for he never passed the Metropolitan
examination. This did not prevent the Empress Dowager from appointing
him, after his victorious campaign, to the Grand Secretariat, the
only instance of a provincial graduate attaining to that high honour.
For three years he was Tseng Kuo-fan’s ablest lieutenant against the
Taipings, and became Governor of Fukhien in 1863. In 1868 he was
appointed Commander-in-Chief of the Imperial forces against the Mahomedan
rebels, and began a campaign which lasted, with breathing spaces, until
the beginning of 1878. His victorious progress through the western and
north-western provinces began at Hsiang-Yang, on the Han river, in Hupei.
Thence, after driving the rebels from Hsi-an, through Shansi and Kansu,
he came to a halt before the strong city of Su-chou fu, on the north-west
frontier of Kansu. The siege of this place lasted nearly three years, for
his force was badly off for ordnance, and he was compelled to wait until
his deputies purchased artillery for him from a German firm at Shanghai.
The guns were sent up in the leisurely manner affected by the Mandarins,
and Tso was obliged to put his troops to agricultural work in order to
provide himself with commissariat.
Su-chou had been for ten years in the hands of the rebels. It fell to
the Imperialists in October, 1873, some say by treachery, according
to others by assault. Be this as it may, Tso, whose method of dealing
with rebels was absolutely pitiless, reduced the place to a heap of
ruins, killing men, women and children indiscriminately, throughout
large tracts of country. So fearful were the wholesale massacres and
treacherous atrocities committed by his Hunanese troops, that General
Kauffmann, commanding the Russian forces on the frontier, considered
it his duty to address him on the subject, and to protest indignantly
at the indiscriminate killing of non-combatants. General Kauffmann
alluded chiefly to the massacre which had followed the taking of
the town of Manas (November, 1876), but similar atrocities had been
perpetrated at Su-chou, Hami, and many other important places. At Hami
the entire population was put to the sword. Eye-witnesses of the scene
of desolation, which stretched from Hsi-an in Shensi to Kashgar, have
recorded that scarcely a woman was left alive in all those ruined
cities—one might ride for days and not see one—a fact which accounts for
the failure of the country unto this day to recover from the passing of
that scourge. In more than one instance, Tso said with pride that he had
left no living thing to sow new seeds of rebellion.[139]
Nor do the Chinese find anything reprehensible in his action.
Instinctively a peace-loving people, they have learned through centuries
of dreadful experience that there can be no humanitarianism in these
ever-recurring rebellions, which are but one phase of the deadly struggle
for life in China, and that the survival of the fittest implies the
extermination of the unfit. Tso had first learned this lesson in the
fierce warfare of the Taiping rebellion, where there was no question of
quarter, asked or given, on either side. “If I destroy them not,” he
would say with simple grimness, “if I leave root or branch, they may
destroy me.”
In private life the man was genial and kindly, of a rugged simplicity;
short of stature, and in later years stout, with a twinkling eye and
hearty laugh; sober and frugal in his habits, practising the classical
virtues of the ancients in all sincerity: a strict disciplinarian, and
much beloved of his soldiers. He delighted in gardening and the planting
of trees. Along the entire length of the Imperial highway that runs from
Hsi-an to Chia-Yü Kuan beyond the Great Wall, thirty-six days’ journey,
he planted an avenue of trees, a stately monument of green to mark the
red route of his devastating armies. One of the few Europeans who saw him
at Hami records that it was his habit to walk in the Viceregal gardens
every afternoon, accompanied by a large suite of officials and Generals,
when he would count his melons and expatiate on the beauty of his
favourite flowers. With him, ready for duty at a word, walked his Chief
Executioner.
He was as careful for the welfare of his people as for the extermination
of rebels, and erected a large woollen factory at Lan-chou fu, whereby he
hoped to establish a flourishing industry throughout the north-western
provinces. He was fiercely opposed to opium cultivation, and completely
suppressed it along the valley of the Yellow River for several years. The
penalty for opium-smoking in his army was the loss of one ear for a first
offence, and death for the second.
Yakoub Beg, the last leader and forlorn hope of the rebellion, died in
May, 1877. Tso, following up his successes, captured in turn Yarkand,
Kashgar and Khotan (January, 1878), and thus ended the insurrection. At
the conclusion of the campaign he had some forty thousand Hunanese troops
at Hami, and twenty thousand more under General Liu[140] at Kashgar. One
of his Generals was that Tung Fu-hsiang who subsequently became known to
the world as the leader of the bloodthirsty Kansuh soldiery at Peking in
1900; at the taking of Khotan he laid the foundations of his reputation
for truculent ferocity. Tso firmly believed that his Hunanese were the
finest fighting men in the world, and was most anxious to use them, in
1879, in trying conclusions with the Russians, boasting that with two
hundred thousand of them he would easily march to St. Petersburg and
there dictate a peace which should wipe out the humiliating concessions
negotiated by Ch’ung Hou in the Treaty of Livadia. Fortunately for him,
his patriotic ambitions came to the ears of the Empress Dowager, who,
desiring no more complications, recalled him in hot haste to Peking,
where she loaded him with honours and rewards.
His was the simple nature of the elementary fighter, inured to the hard
life of camps. He knew little of other lands, but professed the greatest
admiration for Bismarck, chiefly because of the enormous indemnity which
the German conqueror had exacted as the price of victory, Tso’s own
troops being accustomed to live almost exclusively on the spoils of war.
He despised wealth for himself, but loved plunder for his men.
Upon his triumphant return to Peking he was informed that the Palace
authorities expected him to pay forty thousand taels as “gate-money”
before entering the capital. Tso flatly refused. “The Emperor has sent
for me,” he said, “and I have come, but I will not pay a cash. If he
wishes to see me, he must either obtain for me free entry or pay the
gate-money himself.” He waited stolidly five days and then had his way,
entering scot-free. Later, when the Empress Dowager made him a present
of ten thousand taels, he divided the money between his soldiers and the
poor.
SUN CHIA-NAI
This official, chiefly known to fame among his countrymen as one of
the tutors of His Majesty Kuang-Hsü, was a sturdy Conservative of the
orthodox type, but an honest and kindly man. His character and opinions
may be gauged from a well-known saying of his: “One Chinese character is
better than ten thousand words of the barbarians. By knowing Chinese a
man may rise to become a Grand Secretary; by knowing the tongues of the
barbarians, he can at best aspire to become the mouth-piece of other men.”
[Illustration: CEILING AND PILLARS OF THE TAI HO TIEN.
_Photo, Ogawa, Tokio._]
In his later years he felt and expressed great grief at the condition
of his country, and particularly in regard to the strained relations
between the Empress Dowager and the Emperor. He traced the first causes
of these misfortunes to the war with Japan, and never ceased to blame
his colleague, the Imperial Tutor Weng T’ung-ho, for persuading the
Emperor to sign the Decree whereby that war was declared, which he
described as the act of a madman. Weng, however, was by no means alone
in holding the opinion that China could easily dispose of the Japanese
forces by land and by sea. It was well-known at Court, and the Emperor
must have learned it from more than one quarter, that several foreigners
holding high positions under the Chinese Government, including the
Inspector-General of Customs (Sir Robert Hart), concurred in the view
that China had practically no alternative but to declare war in view of
Japan’s high-handed proceedings and insulting attitude. Prestige apart,
it was probable that the Emperor was by no means averse to taking this
step on his own authority, even though he knew that the Empress Dowager
was opposed to the idea of war, because of its inevitable interference
with the preparations for her sixtieth birthday; at that moment, Tzŭ Hsi
was living in quasi-retirement at the Summer Palace. After war had been
declared and China’s reverses began, she complained to the Emperor and
to others, that the fatal step had been taken without her knowledge and
consent, but this was only “making face,” for it is certain that she
had been kept fully informed of all that was done and that, had she so
desired, she could easily have prevented the issue of the Decree, and the
despatch of the Chinese troops to Asan. Sun Chia-nai’s reputation for
sagacity was increased after the event, and upon the subsequent disgrace
and dismissal of Weng T’ung-ho he stood high in Her Majesty’s favour.
Nevertheless his loyalty to the unfortunate Emperor remained unshaken.