century, but it was not till the latter part of the century that
Catholic missionaries entered on their grand crusade. In 1601 the Jesuit
pioneer Matteo Ricci and his associates, impelled by religion and armed
with science, presented themselves at the court of Peking. The Chinese
had been able to reckon the length of the year with remarkable accuracy
two thousand years before the time of Christ, but their science had made
no headway. The missionaries found their calendar in a state of
confusion, vanquished the native astronomers in fair competition, and
were formally installed as keepers of the Imperial Observatory; and
these missionaries supervised the casting of the bronze instruments
which have since been taken to Berlin.
This honor they retained even after the fall of the native dynasty that
patronized them. When the Manchus effected their conquest in 1644, not
only were the Jesuit missionaries left in charge of the observatory, but
the heir apparent was placed under their instruction. Coming to the
throne in 1662, under the now illustrious title of _Kanghi_, the young
prince showed himself a generous patron as he had previously been a
respectful pupil. He was apparently not averse to the idea of his
people's adopting Christianity as their national religion, and allowed
the missionaries a free hand to plant churches throughout the vast
interior. Rarely if ever has so fine an opportunity offered for making
an easy conquest of a pagan empire. It was lost through the jealousy of
contending societies, and especially through the blunder of an
infallible Pope. The Dominicans denounced the Jesuits for tolerating the
practice of pagan rites, such as the worship of ancestors, and for
employing for God the name of a pagan deity. The name which they then
objected to was Shang-ti, Supreme Ruler, a venerable designation for the
Supreme Power found in the earliest of the Chinese canonical books, and
at this day accepted by a large proportion of Protestant missionaries.
The question as to its fitness was referred to the Emperor, who decided
in favor of the Jesuits. It was then brought before the Papal See,
condemned as idolatrous, and Tien Chu, the Lord of Heaven, adopted in
its stead. That Shang-ti, however pure in origin, had come to be applied
to a whole class of deities was perfectly true, but the name proposed in
its stead was not free from a taint of idolatry,--Tien Chu, Lord of
Heaven, being one of eight divinities, and worshipped along with Ti Chu,
Lord of Earth, Hai Chu, Lord of the Sea, etc.
The manner in which his opinions had been set aside by the Pope had no
doubt a repelling influence on the mind of the Emperor, so that if he
had ever felt inclined to embrace Christianity, he drew back in his
later years. Not only so, but he left behind him a series of Maxims in
which he censures the foreign creed and warns his people against it.
These Maxims were ordered to be read in public by mandarins, and they
continue to be recited and expounded as a sort of religious ritual. Is
it surprising that this lost opportunity was followed by a century and a
half of open persecution? That most of the churches survived, not only
attests the zeal with which the Faith had been propagated, it throws a
pleasing light on the force of the Chinese character. At the dawn of our
new epoch, there were still some half a million converts,--with here and
there a foreign Father hiding in their midst.
In bringing about this change of policy there was indeed another
influence at work. Had not the Emperor of China heard some rumors of
what was going on in the dominion of his cousin, the Great Mogul--how
the French were dispossessing the Portuguese; and how the English later
on succeeded in expelling the French? How could they doubt that a large
community of native Christians would act as an auxiliary to any foreign
invader? A suspicion of this kind had in fact sprung up under the
preceding dynasty. In consequence of it not a single seaport except
Macao was opened to foreign trade; and when foreigners went to Canton,
they were lodged in a suburb and not allowed to penetrate within the
walls of the provincial capital. Such misgivings as to the designs of
foreigners we find strikingly expressed in a book of that period called
"Strange Stories of an Idle Student."
One story is as follows: When Red-Haired Barbarians first appeared on
our coast they were not allowed to come ashore. They begged, however, to
be permitted to spread a carpet on which to dry their goods, and this
being granted, they took the carpet by its corners and stretched it so
that it covered several acres. On this, they debarked in great force
and, drawing their swords, took possession of the surrounding country.
III.
THE OPIUM WAR.
The first great event that woke China from her dream of solitary
grandeur was the war with England, which broke out in 1839 and was
closed three years later by the Treaty of Nanking. It was not, however,
all that was needed to effect that object. It made the giant rub her
eyes and give a reluctant assent to terms imposed by superior force. But
many a rude lesson was still required before she came to perceive her
true position, as on the lower side of an inclined plane. To bring her
to this discovery four more foreign wars were to follow before the end
of the century, culminating in a siege in Peking and massacres
throughout the northern provinces which may be looked on as the fifth
act in a long and bloody tragedy.
In the last three wars Li Hung Chang was a prominent actor. In the
first two he took no part. Yet was it the shock which they gave to the
empire that drove him from a life of literary seclusion to do battle in
a more public arena.
The Opium War of 1839 is not improperly so designated, but nothing is
more erroneous than to infer that it was waged by England for the
purpose of forcing the product of her Indian poppy fields on the markets
of China. Opium was the occasion, not the cause. The cause, if we are to
put it in a single word, was the overbearing arrogance of an Oriental
despotism, which refused to recognize any equal in the family
of nations.
In the Straits settlements and in the seaports of India, Chinese
merchants had been brought under sway of the bewitching narcotic. It
found its way to their southern seaports, and without being recognized
as an article of commerce, the trade expanded with startling rapidity.
The Emperor, Tao Kwang, one of the most humane of rulers, resolved to
take measures for the suppression of the vice. He had come to the throne
in 1820; and there is a story that he was moved to action by the
untimely fate of his eldest son, who had fallen a victim to the
seductive poison.
Commissioner Lin, whom he selected to carry out his prohibitory policy,
was a fit instrument for such a master, equally virtuous in his aims
and equally tyrannical in his mode of proceeding. Arriving at Canton,
his first object was to get possession of the forbidden drug, which was
stored on ships outside the harbor. This he thought to accomplish by
surrounding the whole foreign community by soldiers and threatening them
with death if the opium was not promptly surrendered. While its owners
or their agents hesitated, Captain Elliot, the British Superintendent of
Trade, came up from Macao, and demanded to share the duress of his
nationals. He then called on them to deliver up the drug to him to be
used in the service of the Queen for the ransom of the lives of her
subjects, assuring them that they would be reimbursed from the public
treasury. No fewer than twenty-one thousand chests, valued at nine
million dollars, were brought in from the opium ships and formally
handed over to Commissioner Lin. The foreign community was set free, and
the drug destroyed by being mixed with quicklime.
War was made to punish this outrage on the rights of the foreign
community, and to exact indemnity for the seizure of their property.
Canton was not captured, but held to ransom, and the haughty Viceroy
sent into exile. Other cities were taken and held; and, in 1842, a
treaty of peace was signed at Nanking by which five ports were opened to
foreign trade. The embargo on opium was not withdrawn; but the defeat of
the Chinese resulted in a virtual immunity from seizure together with a
growth of the traffic, such as to justify the ill-odored name which that
war still bears in history.
Treaties with other powers followed in quick succession. On demand of
the French Minister, the Emperor recalled his prohibitory decrees
against Christianity and issued an Edict of Toleration. If the opening
of the ports gave a stimulus to trade, the decree of toleration opened a
door for missionary enterprise. As yet, however, neither merchant nor
missionary was allowed to penetrate into the interior; while the capital
and the whole of the northern seacoast remained inaccessible. This was
obviously a state of things that could not be permanent; yet fifteen
years were to pass before another war came to settle the terms of
intercourse on a broader basis.
When the war broke out, Li Hung Chang was seventeen years of age, living
at Hofei in Anhui. As there were then no newspapers in China it may be
doubted whether he heard of it until a British squadron sailed up to
Nanking and extorted a treaty at the cannon's mouth. Li was rudely
startled by the appearance of a new force, to which there was no
allusion in any of his ancient books. Along with the sailing-ships there
were two or three small steamers. It struck the Chinese with
astonishment to see them make head against wind and tide. _Shin Chuan_,
"ships of the gods," is the name they gave those mysterious vessels.
Little could Li foresee the part he was destined to take in creating a
steam navy for China.
Descended from a long line of scholars, he was supposed to be born to
the pursuit of letters. He did, in fact, devote himself to study with
unflagging zeal, because he had as yet no temptation to turn aside. Was
there not, moreover, an open door before his face inviting him to win
for himself the honors of a mandarinate? In his native town he placed
his foot on the first step of the ladder by gaining the degree of A.B.,
or, in Chinese, "Budding Genius." At the provincial capital he next
carried off the laurel of the second degree, which is worth more than
our A.M., not merely because it is not conferred in course, but because
it falls to the lot of only one in a hundred among some thousands of
competitors. These provincial tournaments occur but once in three years;
and the successful candidates proceed to Peking to compete for the third
degree, or D.C.L.,--_Tsin-shi_, or, "Fit for Office." Here the chances
amount to three per cent.
Li's fortunes were again propitious, and in company with two or three
hundred new-made doctors, he was summoned to the palace to contend in
presence of the emperor for the honor of a seat in the Imperial
Academy,--the Hanlin, or "Forest of Pencils." Here also he met with
success, but he was not among the first three whose names are marked by
the vermilion pen of majesty, each of whom sheds lustre on his native
province. The highest of the three is called Chuang Yuen, "Head of the
List" or "Prince of Letters." In the 'fifties it fell to a native of
Ningpo, where I then lived. His good luck was announced to his wife by
the magistrate in person, who conducted her to the six gates, at each of
which she scattered a handful of rice, as an omen of good fortune. In
the 'sixties, when I had removed to Peking, this honor was for the first
time conferred on a Manchu, a son of the General Saishanga. His daughter
was deemed a fit consort for the heir to the throne, wearing for a short
time the tiara of empress, and committing suicide on the death of
her lord.
In the two previous contests, handwriting goes for nothing, but in this
it is not without weight, as the avowed object is to select scribes for
the service of the throne. On those occasions extent of erudition and
originality of thought are the qualities most esteemed; but this time
the order of merit is decided by superficial elegance of style, and by
facility in the composition of verse.
However defective the standard of learning, this long course of
competition, extending over ten or fifteen years, has the effect of
bringing before the throne a body of men each of whom is the survivor of
a hundred contests. No country can boast a better system for the
selection of talent, and the government guards it with jealous care. I
have known more than one examiner put to death for tampering with this
ballot-box of the Empire. For ages it has provided the state with able
officers; nor is its least merit that of converting a dangerous
demagogue into a quiet student.
While waiting for an appointment, Li heard with dismay that Nanking had
been taken by a body of rebels, and that his native province was in
danger of being overrun by them. A new career opened before him,--one
that led more directly to the highest offices within the gift of the
sovereign. Asking a commission in the army, he was assigned to a
position on the staff of Tsengkofan, father of the Marquis Tseng, who
was afterwards Minister to England.
This rebellion, among the strangest of strange things, now claims our
attention.
IV.
THE TAIPING REBELLION.
In April, 1853, the news reached us that Nanking had fallen into the
hands of a body of rebels who, by a curious irony, called themselves
Taipings, "Soldiers of Peace."
They were Chinese, not Manchus, and their leaders were all from the
extreme south. Starting near Canton, they had proclaimed as their
object the expulsion of the Tartars. Overrunning Kwangsi and Hunan, they
had got possession of Hankow and the two adjacent cities,--a centre of
wealth which may be compared to the three cities that form our Greater
New York. Everywhere they put to flight the government forces; but they
did not choose to stop anywhere short of the ancient capital of the
Mings. Seizing some thousands of junks, they filled them with the
plunder of that rich mart, and sweeping down the river, carried by
assault every city on its banks until they reached Nanking. Its
resistance was quickly overcome; and putting to death the entire
garrison of twenty-five thousand Manchus, they announced their intention
to make it the capital of their empire, as Hung Wu had done when he
drove out the Mongols and restored freedom to the Chinese race.
In a few months they despatched an expedition to expel the Manchus from
Peking. But that proved a more difficult task than they expected. Before
the detachment had arrived at Tientsin, it was met on the Grand Canal by
a strong force under Sengkolinsin, the Mongol prince. Obliged to winter
on the way, it was divided and cut off in detail; this defeat making it
evident to all the world that the Manchu domination might still hope for
a considerable lease of life. The blood and rapine which everywhere
marked their pathway alienated the sympathy of foreigners from the
Soldiers of Peace. Nor did the new power at Nanking manifest the least
anxiety to obtain foreign aid, feeling assured of ultimate triumph. Yet,
indifferent as they were to the co-operation of foreigners, the Taipings
proclaimed themselves Christians, and appeared to aim their blows no
less at lifeless idols than at living enemies. Shangti, the Supreme
Ruler, the God of the ancient sages, was the object of their worship.
They found his name in the Christian Bibles, and they published the
Bible as the source of their new faith. Their faith amounted to a
frenzy, giving them courage in battle, but not imparting the
self-control essential to Christian morality. Filling their coffers with
spoil, they stocked their harems with the wives and daughters of their
enemies. If their lives had been more decent, they might have had a
better chance to secure the favor of those powerful nations which had
now become the arbiters of destiny in China.
The leader of the movement was a Cantonese by the name of Hung Siu
Chuen. A copy of the Bible having fallen into his hands, he applied to a
Baptist missionary for instruction. How much he learned may be inferred
from the fact that he gave his followers a new form of baptism,
requiring them to wash the bosom as a sign for cleansing the heart. He
had ecstatic visions, and preached a crusade against idolatry and the
Manchus. The ease with which the Manchus had been beaten by the British
in 1842 had revealed their weakness, and the new faith supplied the
rebels with a fresh source of power. They mixed the teachings of the
Gospel with new revelations as freely as Mohammed did in propagating the
religion of the Koran. The chief called himself the younger brother of
Jesus Christ. His prime minister assumed the title of the Holy Ghost;
and his counsels were given out as decrees from Heaven. All this had an
air of blasphemy that shocked the sensibilities of foreigners, and
compelled them to stand aloof or to support the Manchus.
The native authorities were permitted to engage foreign ships and seamen
to operate against the rebels, who sustained a siege in Nanking almost
as long as the siege of Troy. From Shanghai, Suchau, and other cities
the Taipings were driven out by the aid of foreigners, chiefly led by
Ward and Gordon, the former an American, the latter a Briton. General
Ward was never under the command of Li Hung Chang; but to him more than
to any other foreigner belongs the honor of turning the tide of the
Taiping Rebellion. A soldier of fortune, he offered to throw his sword
into the government scale if it were paid for with many times its weight
in gold. Gathering a nondescript force of various nationalities, he
recaptured the city of Sungkiang, and followed this up by such a series
of successes that his little troop came to be known as the
"Ever-victorious Army." Falling before the walls of Tseki, he was
interred with pomp at the scene of his first victory, where a temple was
erected to his memory, and he is now reckoned among the "Joss" of the
Chinese Empire. His force was taken into Li's pay.
General Gordon (the same who fell at Khartoum) acted under the direction
of Li Hung Chang; and his chief exploit was the recovery of Suchau.
Unable to resist his artillery, the rebel chiefs offered to capitulate.
They were assured by him that their lives would be spared. To this Li
Hung Chang consented, and the stronghold was at once surrendered.
Regardless of his plighted faith, Li caused the five leaders to be
beheaded, an act of treachery which filled Gordon with such fury that he
went from camp to camp, looking for Li, determined to put a bullet in
his head. Li, however, avoided a meeting until Gordon's wrath had time
to subside, and that treacherous act laid the foundation of his future
fortunes. He was made governor of the province, and for forty years he
rose in power and influence.
Not only was this terrible rebellion which laid waste the fairest
provinces a sequel to the first war with England, it was prolonged and
aggravated by a second war which broke out in 1857. In 1863, the last
stronghold of the rebels was recaptured, and the rebellion finally
suppressed, after twelve years of dismal carnage. In bringing about this
result, no names are more conspicuous than those of Li Hung Chang and
General Gordon, whose sobriquet of "Chinese Gordon" ever afterwards
characterized him. Li's good fortune served him well in this war. Having
won the favor of the Court, he was in command of the forces of eastern
Kiangsu, and all the brilliant successes of Ward and Gordon were
credited to him. He was not only made governor of the province, but also
created an Earl in perpetuity.
V.
THE "ARROW" WAR; THE TREATIES.
Never did a smaller spark ignite a greater conflagration. In 1856 a
native junk named the "Arrow," sailing under a British flag, was seized
for piracy, her flag hauled down and her crew thrown into prison at
Canton. On demand of Sir John Bowring, Governor of Hong Kong, they were
handed over to Consul Parkes (later Sir Harry); but he refused to
receive them because they were not accompanied by a suitable apology.
The haughty Viceroy Yeh put them all to death, provoking reprisals on
the part of the British, resulting in the occupation of Canton and the
capture of Peking after three campaigns to the north.
In this war England had France for ally; as the two powers had been
associated in that hugest of blunders, the Crimean War. Nor was the
alliance a less blunder on this occasion. Napoleon's excuse for
participation was the murder of a missionary in Kwangsi; but his real
motive was a desire to checkmate Great Britain, and prevent the conquest
of new territory. In the Opium War she had stopped at Nanking, leaving
the pride of China unhumbled, and the state of relations so unstable
that another war was required to place them on a better footing.
England, with unselfish generosity, invited the co-operation of Russia
and the United States. Either power might have found as good a pretext
for hostile action as that of France; but they chose to maintain an
attitude of neutrality, offering only such moral support as might enable
them to gather up the apples after the others had shaken the tree. In
1857 Canton was taken and held by the allies. The next spring the envoys
of the four powers, each with a considerable naval force, proceeded to
the mouth of the Peiho, the gateway to a capital as secluded and
exclusive as that of the Grand Lama. The forts made a show of
resistance, but they were put to silence in less than half an hour; and
negotiations which had been opened by the neutrals were resumed
at Tientsin.
Dr. S. Wells Williams was Chinese secretary to the United States
minister, Mr. William B. Reed; and I acted as interpreter for the spoken
language. An article in favor of Christian missions occasioned some
delay; and Mr. Reed, who was vain and shallow, said to us, "Now,
gentlemen, hurry up with your missionary article for I intend to sign my
treaty on the 18th of June [Waterloo day] with or without that clause."
Fancy a mind that could think of a treaty obtained by British guns as
entitling him to be associated with Wellington! Yet Mr. Reed had the
effrontery to say that he "expected us to make the missionary societies
duly sensible of their obligations" to him. That twenty-ninth article
was the gem of the treaty; and it had the honor of being copied into
that of Lord Elgin, which was signed eight days later.
High-minded, philanthropic, and upright, Lord Elgin made a mistake which
led to a renewal of the war. He refused to place Tientsin on the list of
open ports, because, as he said, "Foreign powers would make use of it to
overawe the Chinese capital,"--just as if overawing was not a matter of
prime necessity. He hastened away to India to aid in suppressing the
Sepoy mutiny, eventually becoming viceroy after another campaign in
China. His brother, Sir F. Bruce, succeeded him as minister in China;
and twelve months later (July, 1859) the ministers of the four powers
were again at the mouth of the Peiho on their way to Peking for the
exchange of ratified copies of the several treaties. The United States
minister was John E. Ward, a noble-hearted son of Georgia, and the chief
of our little squadron was the gallant old Commodore Tatnall.
We were not a little surprised to see the demolished forts completely
rebuilt, and frowning defiance. We were told by officers who came down
to the shore that no vessel would be allowed to pass; but that the way
to Peking was open to us _via_ Peitang, a small port to the north.
To this Mr. Ward made no objection, but the British, who had so recently
held the keys of the capital, were indignant to be met by such a rebuff.
They steamed ahead between the forts, leaving the Chinese to take the
consequences. All at once the long line of batteries opened fire. One or
two gunboats were sunk; two or three were stranded. A storming party was
repulsed, and Admiral Hope, who was dangerously wounded, begged our
American commodore to give him a lift by towing up a flotilla of barges
filled with a reserve force. "Blood is thicker than water," exclaimed
Tatnall, in tones that have echoed round the globe, and Ward making no
objection, he threw neutrality to the winds, and proceeded to tow up the
barges. Our little steamer was commanded by Lieutenant Barker, now
Admiral Barker of the New York Navy Yard.
Even this failed to retrieve the day, the tide having fallen too low for
a successful landing. For the British admiral nothing remained but to
withdraw his shattered forces, and prepare for another campaign. For the
United States minister a dazzling prospect now presented itself,--that
of intervening to prevent the renewal of war. From Peitang we proceeded
by land two days. Then we continued our voyage for five days by boat on
the Upper Peiho.