BELEAGUERED IN
PEKING
THE BOXER’S WAR
AGAINST THE FOREIGNER
BY
ROBERT COLTMAN, JR., M.D.
Professor of Surgery in Imperial University; Professor of Anatomy, the
Imperial Tung Wen Kuan; Surgeon, Imperial Maritime Customs; Surgeon,
Imperial Chinese Railways. Author of “The Chinese, Their Present
and Future: Medical, Political, and Social.”
Illustrated with
Seventy-seven Photo-Engravings
PHILADELPHIA:
F. A. DAVIS COMPANY, PUBLISHERS
1901
COPYRIGHT, 1901
BY F. A. DAVIS COMPANY
Mount Pleasant Printery
J. HORACE MCFARLAND COMPANY
HARRISBURG · PENNSYLVANIA
PREFACE
IN THE following pages I have endeavored to give an accurate and
comprehensive account of the Siege in Peking and of the Boxer movement
that led up to it.
Authentic details furnished by representatives of those legations whose
work has been specially mentioned have made possible a greater detail
in those cases. I regret that others who had promised me accounts of
their work have failed to furnish the promised material.
The siege at Pei Tang or North Cathedral, coincident with that of the
legations and civilians, is not described for the reason that we were
absolutely cut off from them for over sixty days and knew nothing of
their movements. Much detail that might be interesting to many I have
been obliged to omit, as it would make the book too cumbersome.
I make no claim for the book as a literary effort, the object being
to state the facts in the clearest manner possible. The illustrations
are from actual photographs, the authenticity of which is absolutely
proved, and these carefully studied, add much to the information of the
volume.
To my sixteen-year-old son, the youngest soldier to shoulder a rifle
during the siege, I am indebted for much of the diary and great help in
copying. A considerable portion of the book was written with bullets
whistling about us as we sat in the students’ library building of the
English legation.
There are several men whose work entitles them to decorations from
all the countries represented in the siege, and their names will be
indelibly written in our memories even if the powers and ministers
concerned overlook them. I refer to F. A. Gamewell, August Chamot,
Colonel Shiba, and Herbert G. Squiers.
ROBERT COLTMAN, JR., M.D.
PEKING, CHINA, September 10, 1900.
CONTENTS
CHAPTER PAGE
I. Riot at Marco Polo Bridge—Men Wounded by Captain
Norregaard—Dr. Coltman Accompanies Governor Hu
as Special Commissioner to Investigate—Anti-Foreign
Feeling Expressed by Generals of Tung Fu’s Army—A
Bargain with Prince Tuan 1
II. Yu Hsien Appointed Governor of Shantung, Removed
by British Demands, Only to be Rewarded—Yuanshih
Kai Succeeds Him—Causes of Hatred of Converts by
People and Boxers—The Boxers and Their Tenets—The
Empress Consults Astrologers 31
III. Cables to America Describing Growth of Boxer Movement
from January to June, 1900 46
IV. Diary of the Author from June 1 to June 20 62
V. Diaries of the Author and His Son from June 20 to End
of Siege 78
VI. Reflections, Incidents, and Memoranda Written During Siege 143
VII. Work During Siege Done by Russians—Work by Americans 167
VIII. Work Done by Staff of Imperial Maritime, Customs, and
British Legation Staff 190
IX. Work Done by Austro—Hungarians—Mr. and Mrs. Chamot 209
X. Edicts Issued by the Empress During Siege, with a Few
Comments Thereon 221
XI. Now What? 245
Beleaguered in Peking
CHAPTER I
_RIOT AT MARCO POLO BRIDGE—MEN WOUNDED BY CAPTAIN NORREGAARD—DR.
COLTMAN ACCOMPANIES GOVERNOR HU AS SPECIAL COMMISSIONER TO
INVESTIGATE—ANTI-FOREIGN FEELING EXPRESSED BY GENERALS OF TUNG FU’S
ARMY—A BARGAIN WITH PRINCE TUAN._
[Illustration: The author in Chinese dress]
IN THE autumn of 1898, in the month of October, very shortly after
the famous _coup d’état_ of the Empress Dowager of China, an event
occurred which may have been the influence that shaped after-events,
or it may be that this occurrence was but the premature explosion of
a mine being prepared by the Empress and her evil advisers, intended
to shake the civilized world at a later date. I refer to the riot at
Lukouch’iao, known to the English-speaking world as Marco Polo bridge,
from its having been accurately described by that early traveler. This
place had curiously enough been chosen as the northern terminus of the
Hangkow-Peking railway, although ten miles west of Peking, and the road
consequently is generally known as the Lu Han railway.
The political history of the struggle between the Russian, French and
British diplomats in Peking, with reference to obtaining the concession
for, and the financing of, this road, is very interesting, and would
fill a book of its own; but there is no reason why it should enter into
this narrative more than to state that finally the Belgians, acting for
Russia and France, obtained the concession to build and finance this
greatest trunk line of China.
To connect this line with the existing Peking-Tientsin railway, a short
track was laid from Fengtai, the second station south of Peking, to
Lukouch’iao, and a fine iron bridge built over the Hum Ho or Muddy
river, a few hundred yards west of the original stone Marco Polo
bridge. This short connecting line is but three miles in length, and is
the property of the Peking-Tientsin railway.
With this prelude, allow me to proceed with the event with which I was
somewhat closely identified, and am able to speak of with knowledge and
accuracy.
[Illustration: MARBLE BRIDGE LEADING TO “FORBIDDEN CITY”
A beautiful bridge, which would be a credit to any city. Marco Polo,
the great traveler, nearly a thousand years ago described a similar
bridge, thus showing how old is Chinese civilization compared with our
own.]
On October 23 I was called to Fengtai to amputate the leg of a poor
coolie, who had been run over by the express train from Tientsin; and
after the operation partook of tiffin at the residence of A. G. Cox,
resident engineer of the Peking section of the Peking-Tientsin railway.
His other guests were Major Radcliffe, of the Indian army service, on
what is known as language-leave in China, and C. W. Campbell, official
interpreter of the British legation.
During the meal the newly completed iron bridge was spoken of by Mr.
Cox, and we were all invited to accompany him after tiffin on a trolley
to inspect the bridge. This I was unable to do, as a professional
engagement in Peking in the afternoon at four o’clock prevented.
The next morning I received the following telegram, which should have
been delivered the night before; but owing to the closing of the city
gates no attempt was made to deliver it:
“COLTMAN, Peking:—Come to Fengtai at once. Cox and Norregaard both
seriously wounded in riot at Lukouch’iao.
“KNOWLES.”
I immediately rode in my cart to Machiapu, the Peking terminus of the
Peking-Tientsin railway, and wired down to Fengtai for an engine to
come and take me down.
In an hour’s time I reached Fengtai, and went at once to the residence
of Mr. Cox, to find both himself and Captain Norregaard, the resident
engineer and builder of the bridge at Lukouch’iao, with bandages about
their heads, and a general appearance of having been roughly used.
Their story of the riot was told me while I removed the dressings,
applied by my assistant, a native medical student of the railway
hospital at Fengtai, the day before.
Mr. Cox stated that he and his two guests had gone shortly after tiffin
on a trolley to Captain Norregaard’s residence, near the bridge, and
having added Norregaard to their party, proceeded on foot to the
bridge. Near the eastern entrance stood a party of Kansu soldiers,
numbering fifty or more, who, upon the approach of the foreigners,
saluted them with offensive epithets, in which the well-known “yang
kuei tzu” or “foreign devil” was frequently repeated.
Mr. Campbell, who spoke Chinese fluently, remonstrated with the men,
and endeavored to have them stand aside and allow the party to cross
the bridge; but they obstinately barred the entrance, and warned the
foreigners back.
At this juncture a military official of low rank appeared on the track,
and Campbell appealed to him to quiet the men, and to allow them to
inspect the bridge. This officer replied that the men were not of his
company and he had no power over them; but Campbell, knowing well
the Chinese nature, at once told him that they should consider him
responsible for any trouble, whether he was their particular officer or
not.
Upon this the officer ordered the men to open a passage for the
foreigners, which they promptly did, and the party of four crossed the
bridge. The officer, after they had entered the bridge, left the men
and disappeared. They remained a quarter of an hour on the farther
side of the bridge and then returned.
As they again neared the eastern side, they saw the same gang of
ruffians awaiting them, with stones in their hands, and, upon their
arriving within range, were saluted with a volley of stones, many of
which took effect. They valiantly charged upon the men, and Cox, being
rather severely hit, and spying out the man who had struck him, chased
him right into the crowd and knocked him down with a terrific blow.
As Cox stands six feet four, and is a remarkably muscular man, this
fellow’s punishment was severe.
The mob, however, turned upon Cox, who was separated from his
companions some thirty odd feet, and, surrounding him, bore him by
sheer weight and number to the ground, not, however, before he had
placed several of them _hors du combat_.
At this moment Captain Norregaard received a severe stone cut just
above his eyes, which severed a small artery and covered his face
with blood. Not knowing how dangerously he was wounded, and believing
Mr. Cox to be in danger of his life, Norregaard drew his revolver and
fired two shots into the mob. The effect was instantaneous. The brutal
cowards dropped Cox at once, and ran away like sheep toward their
encampment, half a mile distant.
After tying a handkerchief around his head, and assisting Cox to get
up, the party hastily ran to the residence of Norregaard and brought
Mrs. Norregaard and her eight-year-old son to the trolley, upon which
the whole party returned to Fengtai.
Cox then sent a command out by wire for all the engineers working
on the Lu Han railway to give up their posts and retire with him to
Tientsin to await the settlement of the riot by the Chinese officials,
as well as to obtain some guaranty of future good conduct on the part
of the government troops, who were yet to arrive from the southwest.
After dressing the wounds of these two gentlemen they took the train
for Tientsin, and the writer returned to Peking.
The next day, or two days after the riot, I received a message from
Hu Chih-fen, the governor of Peking, requesting me to call upon him
at Imbeck’s hotel at once. I found the old gentleman with twenty
retainers awaiting me. He stated that he had been appointed a special
commissioner by the Empress Dowager to proceed to Lukouch’iao and
investigate the circumstances connected with the riot two days
previously, as well as to inquire minutely into the condition of two
wounded soldiers reported by their officers to have been wantonly shot
and dangerously hurt by Captain Norregaard. He desired me to accompany
him into the camp, and examine the wounds as an expert, so that he
could make a proper report to the Empress.
I confess I did not much care to go alone into the camp of the famous
Kansu, haters of foreign, but I was under many obligations to Governor
Hu, and wanted to oblige him. Besides, there was a spice of adventure
about the undertaking that was pleasant to a correspondent. I preferred
to go armed, however, as, although knowing a revolver would be of
no use in a hostile camp for offensive warfare, yet if Governor Hu
remained with me, I reasoned, I could by placing a revolver to his head
and holding him hostage prevent any harm to myself—believing as I did
that the Empress’ special commissioner’s person would be sacred in the
eyes of her generals. The sequel proved how false this belief was, and
that before many hours.
So I requested permission to return home for a moment to obtain a small
instrument I might need, as well as to inform my wife of my leaving the
city, that she might not be anxious if I did not return until after
dark.
[Illustration: MAIN STREET OF PEKING FROM THE CITY WALL
This shows the main street of Peking—its “Market Street,” as
Philadelphians might say, or its “Strand,” from the English point of
view. Although a main street it is scarcely better than a country
road, and busy trading seems to be going on in the foreground in the
open air. Here and there a sign indicates that business is conducted
within, and that unavoidable feature of a Chinese city, the open pool
of stagnant water, is in evidence.]
Governor Hu replied that I could get whatever instrument I needed at
the railway hospital at Fengtai, and that he would send one of his
retainers with a message to my wife. I insisted, however, that a return
home was imperative, and that I would rejoin him in half an hour.
Whereupon he decided to order tiffin in the meantime, and told me to
hurry back, take tiffin with him at the hotel, and we would then
proceed to Machiapu, where a special train would be waiting for us.
I hastened home, obtained my Smith & Wesson six-shooter, and, after a
good tiffin with Governor Hu, rode in a springless cart to Machiapu,
entrained, and was speedily at the station at Lukouch’iao.
Upon our alighting from the cars we were met by a sub-official from the
camps, and were accompanied by him, and about twenty Kansu soldiers,
to the entrance to the railroad bridge, the site of the riot two days
before.
Here Hu ordered the bridge watchmen to be brought before him, and
he interrogated them as to the occurrences described by Cox and
Norregaard. The two watchmen’s stories were the exact counterpart of
the two foreigners’; they agreed in every particular, and placed the
whole blame on the Kansu soldiers.
I was surprised at the fearless testimony of these two poor watchmen,
one of whom was afterward murdered by the soldiers for testifying
against them.
Hu now walked to an inn in the village of Lukou, and told the
sub-official to order the general and colonels of all the regiments
quartered near-by to appear before him at once, as he would hold an
investigation by order of the Empress. He and I drank tea until they
arrived.
The first, a General Chang, appeared in about fifteen minutes. We knew
some one of importance was coming by the hubbub in the courtyard, the
murmur of voices, and the sound of horses’ moving feet. Then a soldier
appeared in the doorway, and announced:
“General Chang, of the Kansu cavalry, has arrived.”
“Ch’ing,” replied Hu, and immediately there stood before us as
ferocious looking a ruffian as the world could well produce. A tall,
weather-beaten man, fifty years of age or more, with rather heavy (for
a Chinaman) yet black mustaches, and a more than ordinarily prominent
nose; dressed in a dark blue gown, satin high-top boots, official hat
with premier button and peacock feather, held at right angles from
the rear of his button by an expensive piece of jade. His eyes were
deep-set and small, and the whole expression of his face was ferocious
and cruel.
He only slightly inclined his head to Hu, took no notice of me, and,
ignoring Chinese ceremony, proceeded at once to the highest seat in the
little room, and seated himself in the intensely stiff attitude of the
god of war one usually sees in a Chinese temple. Hu seemed completely
taken aback at this insolence, and allowed the ruffian to remain in
the seat of honor throughout the interview.
Before Hu had become acquainted, by his polite questions, with the age,
rank, and province of his haughty guest, four other military officers
of the rank of colonel and lieutenant-colonel had arrived, namely,
Chao, Ma, Wang, and Hung.
Finding their general in the head seat, and noting his imperious
bearing, they took their cue from him and maintained throughout
the interview the most lofty manner, and treated Hu more like a
subordinate than a civil officer of the premier rank and a special high
commissioner of Her Majesty the Empress Dowager.
After a few mouthfuls of tea, Hu informed them in most polite and bland
terms that as he was Director-General of imperial railways, as well
as Governor of the metropolitan prefecture of Shuntienfu, Her August
Majesty, the Empress Dowager, etc., etc., etc., had appointed him to
visit the general and officers of the Kansu regiments in camp at this
place, to inquire into the circumstances of the late riot.
He stated also that he came gladly because he felt that, by careful
inquiry into the circumstances, it could doubtless be proved that the
soldiers had acted in a rowdy manner without the knowledge and consent
of their officers, and that by a well-worded report the latter would
escape all blame, and the matter could be settled to the satisfaction
of all, especially as no lives had been lost, or imperial property
destroyed.
General Chang haughtily replied that it was entirely unnecessary
for Hu to come out at all; that Prince Ching had sent a messenger
to him in the morning, and the Empress was doubtless aware, through
this messenger, of the exact circumstances of the case already, and
consequently Hu might as well return and save himself any further
trouble.
His impudent manner indicated that, having given his own side of
the case to a trusty henchman of Prince Ching’s, and obtained that
influential prince’s partial testimony in his favor, he did not care
one way or the other for anything Hu might report later.
But Hu, although very quiet and apparently humble, was firm and
determined, and upon the conclusion of Chang’s defiant speech, replied:
“It is very well that Her Majesty should have as early a report as
possible, and I am glad you have informed her of the events; but as I
have been appointed to inquire officially, I should not return without
having done my duty, and I hope that none of the officers present will
refuse any testimony I require, and compel me to report a lack of
respect for Her Majesty’s commands.”
Chang bit his lips and pulled his mustaches fiercely at this, but said
nothing. But Colonel Chao took up the cudgels in a most unexpected
manner. Excitedly rising, he commenced a most venomous speech against
the introduction of railways into China. He denounced them as the
instrumentality of the foreigner to subjugate the country, declaring
they had taken away the employment of thousands of carters, boatmen,
and wheelbarrow coolies; that they had raised the price of rice and
other cereals; that they employed foreigners at high wages, who carried
all the money out of the country at the same time that they abused and
maltreated the natives under their control, and wound up his rather
long discourse by declaring that the abolishing of railways and driving
into the sea of every foreigner was the duty of every loyal soldier or
subject of the empire.
Hu mildly endeavored to interrupt him several times by telling him that
the railways were all Chinese property, and the foreign employees were
their Empress’ own employees; but Chao drowned Hu’s every utterance so
that the old man, after several attempts, was, perforce, obliged to
keep quiet until the irate colonel had exhausted himself and sat down
blowing like a porpoise.
[Illustration: PAGODA NEAR PEKING
In and around Peking are to be seen many specimens of noble
architecture; among which is this beautiful Pagoda, built hundreds of
years ago. Such buildings are not erected now, and in some instances
they are found standing almost solitary and alone, miles from any great
city.]
I knew Hu was very unwilling that I should hear all of this speech,
which he realized I would perfectly understand, and I felt sure he
regretted having brought along a surgeon versed in Chinese.
To me it was a revelation. I had heard that the Mohammedan troops from
Kansu, under the famous general Tung Fu Hsiang, were ordered to Peking
immediately after the _coup d’état_ to support the Empress in her
anti-foreign policy. I had heard that they were fanatical, ignorant,
and intensely hostile to foreigners. But that they would dare to insult
the Empress, in the person of a special commissioner appointed by
imperial edict, and reveal the purpose of their general in such open
language, and that before a foreigner, I would scarcely have believed
short of the testimony of my own ears.
Hu realized that it was useless to attempt to argue with or conciliate
these men, and at once set about the object of his visit, as yet
unachieved, namely, to find out the condition of the wounded soldiers.
So, upon Colonel Chao’s finishing his diatribe, he politely turned to
General Chang, without further noticing the enraged colonel, and said:
“I have been told two of your men have been wounded by one of the
foreign engineers, and as I have a very skilful surgeon in my employ,
who attends to all the people who are injured on the railway, I have
brought him along to examine your men, and if you will permit him I am
sure he can heal them.”
He then introduced me as Man Tai Fu, my Chinese title. They sullenly
acknowledged my presence, for the first time, by a slight nod in my
direction, and General Chang asked Hu if he had an interpreter who
could converse with me.
“Oh, he doesn’t need an interpreter,” replied Hu; “he has lived in
China fifteen years, has sons and daughters born here, and speaks our
language like a native.”
Upon this, my nearest neighbor, Lieutenant-Colonel Wang, relaxed a
little, and observed that he had never talked with a foreigner, and
would be glad to make my acquaintance. I replied that it was a mutual
pleasure, and asked his age, province, and personal name, which pleased
him greatly.
As it was rapidly growing darker, however, and we had not yet seen
the wounded men, Hu cut short our budding conversation by requesting
General Chang to show them to me.
He curtly declared, “They are in camp half a mile away, and he can go
and see them if he wants to.”
“Will you go?” inquired Hu.
“Yes, if you will go with me,” I replied, not caring to venture alone
into the hostile camp, especially after what I had seen of the temper
of their leaders; but I added, “I think it would be much better to have
them brought here.”
“Yes, yes, that is better,” said Hu; but General Chang interrupted him
by saying:
“Impossible! they are too ill to be moved, and on this cold day would
surely take cold and die.”
“Have them well wrapped up and brought quickly,” said Hu, without
paying attention to the interruption, “for it is getting late, and
although I have ordered the city gates not to close until our return
to Peking, I am anxious to avoid keeping them open any later than
necessary.”
General Chang then strode across the room to the door opening into the
court, where upwards of three hundred of his men were standing packed
like sardines, listening to everything we had been saying, as Chinese
custom is, and shouted out:
“Bring the two wounded men in here.”
Now all of the men had seen Governor Hu snubbed, had heard Colonel Chao
revile him and his railroads, and had heard their general say the men
would die if brought out in the cold; so, supposing they were to act
in a similar way, they, upon receiving this order, held a confab, and
a very noisy confab, too, among themselves for a few moments before
replying.
As I watched Governor Hu’s face grow pale as the commotion increased,
I felt that we were in real danger right in the midst of the officers,
and that my previous view that I could insure my own safety by
threatening Hu’s life would avail nothing, as they hated him as much if
not more than myself. I could plainly see that I must change my man,
and make the general my target if the necessity arose.
Then a voice shouted out from the soldiers almost the exact words of
the general.
“They cannot be brought here; the exposure would kill them.”
Chang looked at Hu to see what effect this had upon him, but Hu was no
coward, and calmly replied:
“They must be brought if it kills them; by Her Majesty’s commission, I
demand it.”
The general was bluffing; he sullenly gave in.
“Bring those men at once, dead or alive, you scoundrels,” he shouted
stentoriously, “and in a hurry, too!”
“Aye, aye,” responded a hundred throats, and a number of men left the
courtyard at once.
The camp must have been some distance away, for it was over half an
hour and nearly candle-lighting time before the two men, each carried
on a litter on the shoulders of six men, were brought in.
The first man was covered up in blankets, and pretended to be
unconscious; but he proved to have no fever, had a slow pulse, and
absolutely no wound but a scratch at the lower end of his right
shoulder-blade, which might have been made by a finger-nail, or
possibly by a pistol-ball grazing the skin.
The hypocrite Chang bent over me as I was examining, and asked in a
voice of pretended sympathy:
“Is he badly hurt? Can he recover? And how long will he be ill?” to
which I replied:
“Not badly hurt; he will recover; and I will guarantee he is all
right day after to-morrow if you will send him at once to my railroad
hospital at Fengtai.”
I said this, thinking that the British minister in Peking, Sir
Claude MacDonald, might be glad to get hold of these men for proper
punishment, and that if they were in the hospital at Fengtai they could
easily be obtained; otherwise I would have ordered this man to be
dismissed at once as shamming.
The second man also pretended to be much worse off than he really was,
but he did in fact have a small bullet-wound in his shoulder, from
which I extracted with forceps a fragment of blue cotton cloth, and
then sent him also to the hospital, predicting his recovery within ten
days.
General Chang thanked me for my interest, and promised to reward me for
my services when the men recovered; then, nodding coolly to Governor
Hu, he and his staff marched out of the inn and left us, and allowed
a subordinate to escort us to the special train that brought us down,
which was as great a lack of courtesy and positive insult as he could
give to the Empress Dowager’s high commissioner.
Our return journey was without incident. The city gates were open
awaiting us, and were closed immediately upon our entrance. Governor
Hu immediately memorialized the throne, stating the result of his
inquiries, reported the impudence of Colonel Chao, and made the request
that he be turned over to the Board of Punishments for a penalty.
The Empress acknowledged the memorial, and she decided to deprive
Colonel Chao of one step in rank, degrading him to a major. This
appeared in an edict at once; at the same time she commended Hu for his
promptness and general ability.
But, alas for Governor Hu! General Tung Fu Hsiang, the man who
was to prove the curse of China, was unacquainted with all these
circumstances, and had yet to be heard from. This man had obtained
his reputation first as a brigand, and afterward as a leader of
Her Majesty’s army in putting down a rather formidable rebellion
of the Mohammedans in his own province of Kansu. Bold, cruel, and
unscrupulous, he had murdered his own provincials, who were but poorly
armed and without military discipline, in a most ruthless manner, and
had not only suppressed the uprising, but nearly exterminated the
rebels.
[Illustration: A temple in the Summer Palace grounds]
His fame spread far and wide as a wonderful general, so that when the
Empress again assumed power by forcibly seizing the throne from the
weak but good-intentioned Kuang Hsu, she decided at once to bring this
man Tung and his Kansu ruffians to Peking to assist her in maintaining
her authority against all comers. It was en route to Peking that his
advance corps, under General Chang, had the trouble at Lukouch’iao.
[Illustration: MEMORIAL ARCHES
It is doubtful if we should have been able to learn so much of the
“Forbidden City” and of the beautiful and remarkable things to be seen
in the Palace grounds had it not been for this Siege. These are most
beautiful from a Chinese point of view, the architecture dating back
for many ages. These arches are built of immense blocks of stone,
beautifully fitted and arranged.]
As soon as Tung Fu Hsiang learned of Colonel Chao’s degradation, he was
wild with rage, taking the view at once that the insult was not only
upon Chao but also upon himself.
Knowing the Empress was in a precarious condition without troops she
could depend upon, this courageous adventurer, at his first audience
upon his arrival in Peking, promptly told Her Majesty that unless
Chao were restored to his rank immediately, and Governor Hu were
removed from his offices as Governor of Peking and Director-General
of Railways, as well as prevented from taking his seat in the
tsung-li-yamen, or foreign office, to which he had just been appointed,
he, Tung, would disband his army and return to Kansu at once.
The Empress remonstrated with him in vain, alleging that Hu had only
done his duty, and that with his knowledge of foreigners he would be a
valuable official in the tsung-li-yamen. But Tung remained obdurate,
and the Empress reluctantly yielded and dismissed Hu to private life,
where he has ever since remained.
As Governor Hu was alone responsible, by his firm friendship for
the English, for obtaining for the Hong Kong and Shanghai banking
corporation, an English company, the loan for extending the
Peking-Tientsin railway, and had signed the contract which gave the
real control of the railway to the English stockholders, his dismissal
from office should have been prevented by diplomatic action. As it
was, only a mild remonstrance by the diplomatic representative of Great
Britain was made, and the tsung-li-yamen passed it, as usual, unheeded.
Governor Hu remarked to me a few days after his dismissal, very
bitterly, “If I had been the friend to Russia I have been to England I
should not now be in disgrace.”
He was replaced in the office of Governor of Peking by Ho Yun Nai, and
in the office of Director-General of Railways by Hsu Ching Ch’eng,
ex-minister to Germany and Russia. The first of these officials was
a well-known hater of foreigners, who was suggested by General Tung.
The latter was a corrupt opium-eater, already in the pay of Russia, as
Chinese president of the Manchurian railway, and was suggested by a
high palace eunuch, himself in the pay of Russia.
Tung’s influence in Peking now became all-powerful; his soldiers
swaggered about the streets in their fancy red and black uniforms,
growing daily more menacing to the foreigners they passed, until
finally several incipient riots occurred which resulted in one
foreigner having several ribs broken and others being assaulted, so
that a few of the foreign ministers united and requested that his army
corps be removed some distance from the capital. The Empress agreed
reluctantly to this, but only sent them a little over a hundred li
away.
Tung, early after his arrival, made the acquaintance of Prince Tuan,
a stupid, ignorant Manchu, who soon became his complete tool. The
question of a successor to the sickly Emperor, Kuang Hsu, had been
discussed for several years, as he had as yet no issue, and seemed
likely at any time to die childless. The sons of Tuan, of Duke Lan, and
of Prince Lien were all considered eligible, and from amongst them must
be chosen the future Emperor of China.
Tung saw that Tuan would become his tool much more completely than
either of the others, and proposed an alliance between Tuan’s son and a
daughter of his own, agreeing to support the younger Tuan’s candidacy
for the throne, with his whole army, if necessary, to accomplish the
purpose. Tuan agreed to this, but stated the succession must be made
without its being known that he was under obligations to favor Tung’s
daughter, but that when an apparently open competition for selection
of an empress was made, and the various eligible damsels appeared at
the court, Tung’s daughter should arrive from Kansu in time and be the
favored recipient.
On this understanding everything became smooth sailing, and the
consummation of their plans, as far as Tuan’s interest was concerned,
occurred, when in solemn conclave of all the princes of the blood
and great ministers of state, on January 24, 1900, Pu Chun, son of
Prince Tuan, was solemnly named as successor to the previous emperor,
Tung Chih; and poor sickly little Kuang Hsu was succeeded without a
successor to himself, but a successor to his uncle being appointed,
which, by imperial edict, makes him an interloper.
[Illustration: CHINESE STATESMEN
A group of Chinese officials of the highest class; in Peking, previous
to the Siege.]
This was a nice piece of vengeance the Empress Dowager worked out,
partly to avenge herself on her nephew for his unsuccessful attempt
to shelve her and run his government himself. Tung’s intensely
anti-foreign sentiments soon made him many friends at court, among the
oldest and most conservative Manchus, as well as some of the Chinese.
But it was among the former that his influence was greatest.
Many of these men, stupid in the extreme, and too cowardly themselves
ever to have originated any of the designs that have since been worked
out, joyfully fell in with the plans inspired by his ambition for his
own success, but always put forward as for the salvation of his country.
Hsu Ting, Kang Yi, Ch’i Shin, Ch’ung Ch’i, Ch’ung Li, Na T’ung, and
Li Ping Heng became his warmest friends and admirers, and formed a
cabal which soon controlled the entire administration of government.
By Tung’s direction all important offices, as they became vacant, or
could be readily made so, were to be filled by the Manchu friends of
the cabal or, if Chinese, as rarely occurred, then a Chinese who was
of their own set and their own creature. This gave them a powerful
patronage under their disposal in the lucrative taotaiships and other
posts formerly more or less evenly divided between Manchu and Chinese,
but now almost entirely limited to Manchus.
[Illustration: BRIDGE AT WAN SHOA SHAN, NEAR PEKING
That the Chinese appreciate the picturesque, both in situation and in
architecture, is shown in this picture.]
Kang Yi was sent on a mission southward through all the provinces to
extort money to raise more armies, as well as to feel the pulse of
the people in regard to, and encourage them in, their anti-foreign
tendencies. Li Ping Heng was sent to examine and report on all the
defenses of the Yangtze valley, as well as to denounce any official of
progressive tendencies. Yu Hsien was to succeed the latter as Governor
of Shantung, and to sow in that province the seeds of disorder and
riot that yielded such a bitter crop when they ripened; just as only
a poorly-organized, semi-patriotic, but fully looting society could
do—an organization that was to be called the I Ho Ch’uan or Boxer
organization.
This programme has been fully carried out, and what the result has been
will be described in part only (as we in the north only know part) in
the following chapters.