concubine, and, I am told, that she like himself is kept in close
confinement. The Empress stands by her aunt, the Empress Dowager, while
the eunuchs now are all her tools. The officials who go into the palace
to audiences are all conservative and hence against him, though I
suppose they never see him."
"Do you suppose he ever sees the edicts issued in his name?"
"Not at all. They are made by the conservatives and the Empress Dowager
and issued without his knowledge."
"And what do you propose to do?" we inquired.
"I shall leave for Shanghai as soon as I can safely do so," he replied.
Before the year had passed the Empress Dowager had been induced or
compelled to select a new Emperor. We cannot believe that she did it of
her own free will, and for several reasons. First, the child selected
was the son and the grandson of ultra conservative princes, and we
cannot but believe that as she had placed herself in the hands of the
conservative party, it was their selection rather than hers. Second, it
must have been a humiliation to her ever since she discovered that her
nephew, whom she had selected and placed upon the throne in order to
keep the succession in her own family, being the same generation as her
son who had died, could not worship him as his ancestor, and hence
could not legally occupy the throne, though as a matter of fact such a
condition is not unknown in Chinese history.
But if her humiliation was great, that of our boy-prisoner was still
greater, for he was compelled to witness an edict, proclaimed in his
own name, which made him say that as there was no hope of his having a
child of his own to succeed him, he had requested the Empress Dowager
to select a suitable person who should be proclaimed as the successor
of Tung Chih, his predecessor, thus turning himself out of the imperial
line. That this could not have been her choice is evidenced, further,
by the fact that just as soon as she had once more regained her power,
she surrounded herself with progressive officials, turned out all the
great conservatives except Jung Lu, and dispossessing the son of Prince
Tuan, at the time of her death selected her sister's grandchild and
proclaimed him successor to her son and heir to the Emperor Kuang Hsu,
in the following edict:
"Inasmuch as the Emperor Tung Chih had no issue, on the fifth day of
the twelfth moon of that reign (January 12, 1875) an edict was
promulgated to the effect that if the late Emperor Kuang Hsu should
have a son, the said Prince should carry on the succession as the heir
of Tung Chih. But now the late Emperor has ascended upon the dragon to
be a guest on high, leaving no son, and there is no course open but to
appoint Pu I, the son of Tsai Feng, the Prince Regent, as the successor
to Tung Chih, and also as heir to the Emperor Kuang Hsu," which is
quite in keeping with the conduct and character of the Empress Dowager
all her life except those two bad years.
During the days and weeks following the dispossession of Kuang Hsu of
the throne, in 1899 many decrees appeared which signified that at no
distant date he would be superseded by the son of Prince Tuan. The
foreign ministers began again to look grave. They spoke openly of their
fear that Kuang Hsu's days were numbered. They pressed their desire for
the usual New Year's audience, and once more the imprisoned monarch was
brought forth and made to sit upon the throne and receive them. But
when the ladies asked for an audience they were refused, the Empress
Dowager being too busy with affairs of state. She was at that time
seriously considering whether or not the government should cast in its
lot with the Boxers and drive all the foreigners with all their
productions into the eastern sea.
One of the princesses told Mrs. Headland that before coming to a
decision the Empress Dowager called the hereditary and imperial princes
into the palace to consult with them as to what they would better do.
She met them all face to face, the Emperor and Prince Tuan standing
near the throne. She explained to them the ravages of the foreigners,
how they were gradually taking one piece after another of Chinese
territory.
"And now," she continued, "we have these patriotic braves who claim to
be impervious to swords and bullets; what shall we do? Shall we cast in
our lot with their millions and drive all these foreigners out of China
or not?"
Prince Tuan, as father of the heir-apparent, uneducated, superstitious
and ignorant of all foreign affairs, then spoke. He said:
"I have seen the Boxers drilling, I have heard their incantations, and
I believe that they will be able to effect this much desired end. They
will either kill the foreigners or drive them out of the country and no
more will dare to come, and thus we will be rid of them."
The hereditary princes were then asked for an expression of opinion.
The majority of them knew little of foreigners and foreign countries,
and as Prince Tuan, the father of the future Emperor, had expressed
himself so strongly, they hesitated to offer an adverse opinion. But
when it came to Prince Su, a man of strong character, widely versed in
foreign affairs, and of independent thought, he opposed the measure
most vigorously.
"Who," he asked, "are these Boxers? Who are their leaders? How can
they, a mere rabble, hope to vanquish the armies of foreign nations?"
Prince Tuan answered that "by their incantations they were able to
produce heaven-sent soldiers."
Prince Su denounced such superstition as childish. But when after
further argument between him and Prince Tuan the Empress Dowager
assured him that she had had them in the palace and had witnessed their
prowess, he said no more.
The imperial princes were then consulted, but seeing how Prince Su had
fared they were either in favour of the measure or non-committal.
Finally the Empress Dowager appealed to Prince Ching who, more
diplomatic than the younger princes, answered:
"I consider it a most dangerous undertaking, and I would advise against
it. But if Your Majesty decides to cast in your lot with the Boxers I
will do all in my power to further your wishes."
It is not a matter of wonder therefore that the Empress Dowager should
be led into such a foolish measure as the Boxer movement, when the
Prince who had been president of the Foreign Office for twenty-five
years could so weakly acquiesce in such an undertaking.
"The Emperor," said the Princess, "was not asked for an expression of
his opinion on this occasion, but when he saw that the Boxer leaders
had won the day he burst into tears and left the room."
Similar meetings were held in the palace on two other occasions, when
the Emperor implored that they make no attempt to fight all the foreign
nations, for said he, "the foreigners are stronger than we, both in
money and in arms, while their soldiers are much better drilled and
equipped in every way. If we undertake this and fail as we are sure to
do, it will be impossible to make peace with the foreigners and our
country will be divided up amongst them." His pleadings, however, were
disregarded, and after the meeting was over, he had to return to his
little island, where for eight weeks he was compelled to sit listening
to the rattling guns, booming cannons and bursting firecrackers, for
the Boxers seemed to hope to exterminate the foreigners by noise. He
must have felt from the books he had studied that it could only result
in disaster to his own people.
When the allies reached Peking and the Boxers capitulated the Emperor
was taken out of his prison and compelled to flee with the court.
"What do you think of your bullet-proof Boxers now?" one can imagine
they hear him saying to his august aunt, as he sees her cutting off her
long finger nails, dressing herself in blue cotton garments, and
climbing into a common street cart as an ordinary servant. "Wouldn't it
have been better to have taken my advice and that of Hsu Ching-cheng
and Yuan Chang instead of having put them to death for endeavouring in
their earnestness to save the country? What about your old conservative
friends? Can they be depended upon as pillars of state?" Or some other
"I-told-you-so" language of this kind.
From their exile in Hsian decrees continued to be issued in his name,
and when affairs began to be adjusted, and the allies insisted on
setting aside forever the pretentions of the anti-foreign Prince Tuan
and his son, banishing the former to perpetual exile, our hopes ran
high that the Emperor would be restored to his throne. But to our
disappointment the framers of the Protocol contented themselves with
the clause that: "Rational intercourse shall be permitted with the
Emperor as in Western countries," and with the return of the court in
1902 he was still a prisoner.
Every one who has written about audiences with the Empress Dowager
tells how "the Emperor was seated near, though a little below her," but
they never tell why. The reason is not far to seek. The world must not
know that he was a prisoner in the palace. They must see him near the
throne, but they may not speak to him. The addresses of the ministers
were passed to her by her kneeling statesmen, and it was they who
replied. No notice was taken of the Emperor though he seemed to be in
excellent health. The Empress Dowager however still relieved him of the
burdens of the government, and continued to "teach him how to govern."
"I have seen the Emperor many times," Mrs. Headland tells me, "and have
spent many hours in his presence, and every time we were in the palace
the Emperor accompanied the Empress Dowager--not by her side but a few
steps behind her. When she sat, he always remained standing a few paces
in the rear, and never presumed to sit unless asked by her to do so. He
was a lonely person, with his delicate, well-bred features and his
simple dark robes, and in the midst of these fawning eunuchs, brilliant
court ladies, and bejewelled Empress Dowager he was an inconspicuous
figure. No minister of state touched forehead to floor as he spoke in
hushed and trembling voice to him, no obsequious eunuchs knelt when
coming into his presence; but on the contrary I have again and again
seen him crowded against the wall by these cringing servants of Her
Majesty.
"One day while we were in the palace a pompous eunuch had stepped
before the Emperor quite obliterating him. I saw Kuang Hsu put his
hands on the large man's shoulders, and quietly turn him around, that
he might see before whom he stood. There were no signs of anger on his
face, but rather a gentle, pathetic smile as he looked up at the big
servant. I expected to see him fall upon his knees before the Emperor,
but instead, he only moved a few inches to the left, and remained still
in front of His Majesty. Never when in the palace have I seen a knee
bend to the Emperor, except that of the foreigner when greeting him or
bidding him farewell. This was the more noticeable as statesmen and
eunuchs alike fell upon their knees every time they spoke to the
Empress Dowager.
"The first time I saw him his great, pathetic, wistful eyes followed me
for days. I could not forget them, and I determined that if I ever had
opportunity I would say a few words to him letting him know that the
world was resting in hope of his carrying out the great reforms he had
instituted. But he was so carefully guarded and kept under such strict
surveillance that I never found an opportunity to speak to him. Nor did
he ever speak to the visitors, court ladies, the Empress Dowager, or
attendants during all the hours we remained.
"One of the ministers told me that one day after an audience, when the
Empress Dowager and the Emperor had stepped down from the dais, Her
Majesty was engaged in conversation with one of his colleagues, and as
the Emperor stood near by, he made some remark to him. Immediately the
Empress Dowager turned from the one to whom she had been talking and
made answer for the Emperor.
"On one occasion when there were but four of us in the palace, and we
were all comfortably seated, the Emperor standing a few paces behind
the Empress Dowager, she began discussing the Boxer movement, lamenting
the loss of her long finger nails, and various good-luck gourds of
which she was fond. The Emperor, probably becoming weary of a
conversation in which he had no part, quietly withdrew by a side
entrance to the theatre which was playing at the time. For some moments
the Empress Dowager did not notice his absence, but the instant she
discovered he was gone, a look of anxiety overspread her features, and
she turned to the head eunuch, Li Lien-ying, and in an authoritative
tone asked: 'Where is the Emperor?' There was a scurry among the
eunuchs, and they were sent hither and thither to inquire. After a few
moments they returned, saying that he was in the theatre. The look of
anxiety passed from her face as a cloud passes from before the sun--and
several of the eunuchs remained at the theatre.
"I am told that at times the Empress Dowager invites the Emperor to
dine with her, and on such occasions he is forced to kneel at the table
at which she is seated, eating only what she gives him. It is an honour
which he does not covet, but which he dare not decline for fear of
giving offense."
XI
Prince Chun--The Regent
Prince Chun the Regent of China gave a remarkable luncheon at the
Winter Palace to-day to the foreign envoys who gathered here to attend
the funeral ceremonies of the late Emperor Kuang Hsu. The repast was
served in foreign style. Among the Chinese present were Prince Ching,
former president of the Board of Foreign Affairs and now adviser to the
Naval Department; Prince Tsai Chen, a son of Prince Ching, who was at
one time president of the Board of Commerce; Prince Su, chief of the
Naval Department; and Liaing Tung-yen, president of the Board of
Foreign Affairs. After the entertainment the envoys expressed
themselves as unusually impressed with the personality of the
Regent.--Daily Press.
XI
PRINCE CHUN--THE REGENT
The selection of Prince Chun as Regent for the Chinese empire during
the minority of his son, Pu I, the new Emperor, would seem to be the
wisest choice that could be made at the present time. In the first
place, he is the younger brother of Kuang Hsu, the late Emperor, and
was in sympathy with all the reforms the latter undertook to introduce
in 1898. If Kuang Hsu had chosen his successor, having no son of his
own, there is no reason why he should not have selected Pu I to occupy
the throne, with Prince Chun as Regent, for there is no other prince in
whom he could have reposed greater confidence of having all his reform
measures carried to a successful issue; and a brother with whom he had
always lived in sympathy would be more likely to continue his policy
than any one else.
But, in the second place, as we may suppose, Prince Chun was selected
by the Empress Dowager, whatever the edicts issued, and will thus have
the confidence of the party of which she has been the leader. It is
quite wrong to suppose that this is the conservative party, or even a
conservative party. China has both reform and conservative parties,
but, in addition to these, she has many wise men and great officials
who are neither radical reformers nor ultra-conservatives. It was these
men with whom the Empress Dowager allied herself after the Boxer
troubles of 1900.
These men were Li Hung-chang, Chang Chih-tung, Yuan Shih-kai, Prince
Ching, and others, and it is they who, in ten years, with the Empress
Dowager, put into operation, in a statesmanlike way, all the reforms
that Kuang Hsu, with his hot-headed young radical advisers, attempted
to force upon the country in as many weeks. There is every reason to
believe that Prince Chun, the present Regent, has the support of all
the wiser and better element of the Reform party, as well as those
great men who have been successful in tiding China over the ten most
difficult years of her history, while the ultra-conservatives at this
late date are too few or too weak to deserve serious consideration. We,
therefore, think that the choice of Pu I as Emperor, with Prince Chun
as Regent, whether by the Empress Dowager, the Emperor, or both, was,
all things considered, the best selection that could have been made.
Prince Chun is the son of the Seventh Prince, the nephew of the Emperor
Hsien Feng and the Empress Dowager, and grandson of the Emperor Tao
Kuang. He has a fine face, clear eye, firm mouth, with a tendency to
reticence. He carries himself very straight, and while below the
average in height, is every inch a prince. He is dignified,
intelligent, and, though not loquacious, never at a loss for a topic of
conversation. He is not inclined to small talk, but when among men of
his own rank, he does not hesitate to indulge in bits of humour.
This was rather amusingly illustrated at a dinner given by the late
Major Conger, American minister to China. Major and Mrs. Conger
introduced many innovations into the social life of Peking, and none
more important than the dinners and luncheons given to the princes and
high officials, and also to the princesses and ladies of the court. In
1904, I was invited to dine with Major Conger and help entertain Prince
Chun, Prince Pu Lun, Prince Ching, Governor Hu, Na T'ung, and a number
of other princes and officials of high rank. I sat between Prince Chun
and Governor Hu. Having met them both on several former occasions, I
was not a stranger to either of them, and as they were well acquainted
with each other, though one was a Manchu prince and the other a Chinese
official, conversation was easy and natural.
We talked, of course, in Chinese only, of the improvements and
advantages that railroads bring to a country, for Governor Hu, among
other things, was the superintendent of the Imperial Railways of north
China. This led us to speak of the relative comforts of travel by land
and by sea, for Prince Chun had gone half round the world and back. We
listened to the American minister toasting the young Emperor of China,
his princes, and his subjects; and then to Prince Ching toasting the
young President of the United States, his officials, and his people, in
a most dignified and eloquent manner. And then as the buzz of
conversation went round the table again, and perhaps because of their
having spoken of the YOUNG Emperor and the young President, I turned to
Governor Hu, who had an unusually long, white beard which reached
almost to his waist as he sat at table, and said:
"Your Excellency, what is your honourable age?"
"I was seventy years old my last birthday," he replied.
"And he is still as strong as either of us young men," said I, turning
to Prince Chun.
"Oh, yes," said the Prince; "he is good for ten years yet, and by that
time he can use his beard as an apron."
"It is an ill wind that blows no one good," says the proverb, and this
was never more forcibly illustrated than in the case of the death of
the lamented Baron von Kettler. Had it not been for this unfortunate
occurrence, Prince Chun would not have been sent to Germany to convey
the apologies of the Chinese government to the German Emperor, and he
would thus never have had the opportunity of a trip to Europe; and the
world might once more have beheld a regent on the dragon throne who had
never seen anything a hundred miles from his own capital.
Prince Chun started on this journey with such a retinue as only the
Chinese government can furnish. He had educated foreign physicians and
interpreters, and, like the great Viceroy Li Hung-chang, he had a round
fan with the Eastern hemisphere painted on one side and the Western on
the other, and the route he was to travel distinctly outlined on both,
with all the places he was to pass through, or to stop at on the trip,
plainly marked. He was intelligent enough to observe everything of
importance in the ports through which he passed, and it was interesting
to hear him tell of the things he had seen, and his characterization of
some of the people he had visited.
"What did Your Highness think of the relative characteristics of the
Germans and the French, as you saw them?" I asked him at the same
dinner.
"The people in Berlin," said he, "get up early in the morning and go to
their business, while the people in Paris get up in the evening and go
to the theatre."
This may have been a bit exaggerated, but it indicated that the Prince
did not travel, as many do on their first trip, with his mouth open and
his eyes closed.
After his return to Peking he purchased a brougham, as did most of the
other leading officials and princes at the close of the Boxer troubles,
and driving about in this carriage, he has been a familiar figure from
that time until the present. As straws show the direction of the wind,
these incidents ought to indicate that Prince Chun will not be a
conservative to the detriment of his government, or to the hindrance of
Chinas progress.
It is a well-known fact that the Empress Dowager, in addition to her
other duties, took charge of the arrangement of the marriages of all
her nieces and nephews. One of her favourite Manchu officials, and
indeed one of the greatest Manchus of recent years, though very
conservative, and hence little associated with foreigners, was Jung Lu.
As the affianced bride of Prince Chun had drowned herself in a well
during the Boxer troubles, the Empress Dowager engaged him to the
daughter of the lady who had been Jung Lu's first concubine, but who,
as his consort was dead, was raised to the position of wife.
"This Lady Jung," says Mrs. Headland, "is some forty years of age, very
pretty, talkative, and vivacious, and she told me with a good deal of
pride, on one occasion, of the engagement of her son to the sixth
daughter of Prince Ching. And then with equal enthusiasm she told me
how her daughter had been married to Prince Chun, 'which of course
relates me with the two most powerful families of the empire.'
"I have met the Princess Chun on several occasions at the audiences in
the palace, at luncheons with Mrs. Conger, at a feast with the Imperial
Princess, at a tea with the Princess Tsai Chen, and at the palaces of
many of the princesses. She is a very quiet little woman, and looked
almost infantile as she gazed at one with her big, black eyes. She is
very circumspect in her movements, and with such a mother and father as
she had, I should think may be very brilliant. Naturally she had to be
specially dignified and sedate at these public functions, as she and
the Imperial Princess were the only ones belonging to the old imperial
household, the descendants of Tao Kuang, who were intimately associated
with the Empress Dowager's court. She is small, but pretty, and, as I
have indicated, quiet and reticent. She was fond of her father, and
naturally fond of the Empress Dowager, who selected her as a wife for
her favourite nephew, Prince Chun, to whom she promised the succession
at the time of their marriage. After her father's death, and while she
was in mourning, she was invited into the palace by the Empress
Dowager, where she appeared wearing blue shoes, the colour used in
second mourning.
"'Why do you wear blue shoes?' asked Her Majesty.
"'On account of the death of my father,' replied the Princess.
"'And do you mourn over your dead father more than you rejoice over
being in the presence of your living ruler?' the Empress Dowager
inquired.
"It is unnecessary to add that the Princess 'changed the blue shoes for
red ones while she remained in the palace, so careful has the Empress
Dowager always been of the respect due to her dignity and position."