Part 10

“Since I last had the pleasure of seeing you, you have been constantly in my thoughts. I wish you, with all respect, long life and prosperity: thus will your days fulfil my best hopes of you. And now I beg politely to tell you that I, your younger brother,[25] am quite ashamed of the emptiness of my purse and I therefore beg that you, good Sir, will be so good as to lend me notes to the amount of fifteen hundred taels, which sum kindly hand to the bearer of this letter. I look forward to a day for our further conversation,

“Your younger brother,

“Li Lien-ying.”

As to the amount, Li knew exactly how much the contractors and furnishers of the Palace should pay on every occasion, and that there was no need to question the possibility of the “loan” not being forthcoming.

That he encouraged lavish expenditure at the Court is certain, and scarcely a matter for wonder, but his control of finance extended far beyond the Privy Purse, and wrought great harm to the Empire on more than one historic occasion. For instance, China’s humiliating defeat at the hands of Japan in 1894 was very largely due to his diversion of vast sums of money from the Navy to the reconstruction and decoration of the Summer Palace, a work from which he and his underlings profited to no small extent. In 1885, Prince Ch’un had been appointed head of the Admiralty Board, assisted by Prince Ch’ing, Li Hung-chang and the Marquis Tseng. After the death of the Marquis, however (who had been a moving spirit in the organisation of the Board), Naval affairs passed into the control of a clique of young and inexperienced Princes, and when, in 1889, the Emperor assumed the direction of the Government, one of his first acts was to order the re-building of the Summer Palace, which Imperial residence had remained in ruins since its destruction by the Allies in 1861. There being no funds available, Li advised that the Naval appropriations should be devoted to this purpose, so that the Old Buddha might be suitably provided with a residence; this was accordingly done, and the Naval Department became a branch of the Imperial Household (Nei Wu Fu) for all purposes of Government finance. When the war with Japan broke out, the Empress Dowager issued orders that the Naval Department should be abolished. This order evoked very general criticism, but, as the Department and the Summer Palace rebuilding fund had come to be treated as one and the same account, her Decree simply meant that as the Palace restoration was now complete, and as the funds were quite exhausted, the account in question might be considered closed. There was obviously nothing to be gained by useless enquiries for money to be transferred from the Palace to the Navy.

In 1889 the Chief Eunuch accompanied Prince Ch’un on his first tour of inspection to the northern Naval ports, including the Naval bases of Port Arthur and Weihaiwei. It was a matter of very general comment at the time that the honours paid to the eunuch were noticeably greater than those shown to the Prince. Every officer in the Peiyang squadron, from Admiral Ting downwards, did his best to ingratiate himself with this powerful Chamberlain, and to become enrolled on the list of his _protégés_, so that he was _entouré_ with all manner of bribery and adulation. Many critics, foreign and Chinese, have cast on Li Hung-chang the blame for the disasters of the Japanese war, but they surely overlook the fact, to which even the great Viceroy dared not openly refer, that nine-tenths of the funds which should have gone to the upkeep and provisioning of the Navy and the maintenance of the Coast Defences, had been diverted by the Chief Eunuch to the Palace (and much of them to his own pocket), so that the ships’ crews were disaffected, and their ordnance defective, in the hour of need. Readers of Pepys will remember a very similar state of affairs obtaining in the British Navy, happily without affecting the _moral_ of its officers and men, at a similarly critical period of British history.

Li Lien-ying’s hatred of the Emperor Kuang-Hsü was beyond doubt a most important factor in the _coup d’état_, and in the subsequent estrangement and hostility between Tzŭ Hsi and the nominal ruler of the Empire; there are not lacking those who say that it had much to do with the Emperor’s death, which certainly created no surprise in the capital. The eunuch hated and feared the Emperor’s reforming zeal, as well as the Cantonese advisers who in 1898 came swarming to Peking as the apostles of a new dispensation, and it was therefore only natural that he should become the foremost adviser and partisan of the reactionaries and their emissary in urging the Empress to resume control of affairs. It is quite safe to assert that had his great influence with Tzŭ Hsi been exercised against, instead of for, the Boxers, had he abstained from encouraging her superstitious belief in their magic arts, the anti-foreign movement would never have gone further than the borders of Shantung, and the Chinese people would have been spared the heavy burden of the indemnities. How interesting a study of Asiatic politics and Court life presents itself in the spectacle of this cobbler’s apprentice and his influence on the destinies of so great a race! Seeing him as he was on the day of his mistress’s burial, how bitter must have been the innermost thoughts of the man, left alone on the brink of the grave with the ill-gotten wealth that his country has paid for so heavily!

At the height of the Boxer crisis when the power wielded by Li Lien-ying was enormous, it was the custom of Prince Tuan, when explaining his views to the Empress Dowager and the Grand Council, to emphasise the fact that no step had been taken except with the advice and approval of the Chief Eunuch. “Such and such a Decree,” he would say, “is issued with the chief Chamberlain Li’s approval.” His object in so doing was to head off opposition, for he well knew that few would dare to oppose any measures that the Chief Eunuch approved. When Her Majesty granted rewards to the Boxers and offered head-money to the troops for the killing of Europeans, it was at Li’s urgent request that she consented to defray these unusual charges from her Privy Purse.

When the relieving forces drew near to Peking and it became clear, even to the most obstinate, that the Boxer bolt was shot, the Chief Eunuch passed through a period of deep depression and mortification, not only because of the failure of his prophecies, but because it was clear to all at Court that his Imperial mistress, seeking, as was her wont, a scapegoat, was disposed to vent her wrath upon him. Herself deeply stirred by fear and wrath, it was only natural that she should turn on him, who had been foremost in advising her to follow the path of destruction. On the day when the relief of the Legations took place, Duke Lan rushed headlong into the Palace, loudly announcing that the foreign devils were already within the city walls. Tzŭ Hsi turned on him and asked how he could reconcile such a statement with his previous boasts. “I presume that the devils have flown here,” said she, “for you were telling me only two days ago of our glorious victories near Tientsin; and yet all the time you knew well, as I knew, that the Viceroy and the Li Ping-heng were both dead.” Li Lien-ying, who was standing close by, hearing this, went out and informed the trembling crowd of eunuchs, adding, “The Old Buddha is in an unspeakable rage. There is nothing for it; we must make our escape and retire into Shensi. There we will await the arrival of our reinforcements which will easily drive all these devils back into the sea.” But the hardships and dangers of the flight told even more severely on the chief eunuch than on the Old Buddha herself, and it was not until the Court’s safe establishment at Hsi-an that he recovered his self-possession.

Certain information conveyed by an official of the Household in exile to a fellow provincial at Peking, throws considerable light on the manner in which the Court lived during those troublous days, and the part played in affairs of State by the chief eunuch and Tzŭ Hsi’s other favourites of the Household. We take the following disconnected notes from this correspondence.

When Ts’en Ch’un-hsüan (Governor of Shensi) came to meet the Court on the Shansi frontier, the Old Buddha, raising the curtain of her sedan-chair, looked out and said to him, “Have you any idea of what we have suffered in Peking?” “I do not know all,” he replied. Pointing angrily at Li, she said, “It was all his doing; he has brought ruin upon me.” The chief eunuch hung his head, and for once had nothing to say. Later on, when the fearless Ts’en saw the eunuchs under Li’s orders mercilessly harassing the countryside in their search for plunder, he promptly reported matters to the Empress and obtained her somewhat reluctant permission to execute three of the offenders on the spot. He was sorely tempted to include the chief eunuch in the number of his victims, but realising how greatly Her Majesty depended upon her favourite attendant, he feared to run the risk of inconveniencing and offending her. Nevertheless, Li had a narrow escape. Later on, when Li had recovered his equanimity, and the Court had settled down to its usual routine, the eunuch revenged himself on the Governor, with the help of Jung Lu, by having him transferred to the Governorship of Shansi. He did this, not only because the post in Shansi was considered a dangerous one, owing to the fear of pursuit by the Allies, but because Ts’en had gradually made himself most useful to Her Majesty by superintending the expenditure of her Household. The Governor was justly famous throughout the Empire for his incorruptible honesty, so that, when placed in charge of the Palace accounts, these speedily showed a very considerable reduction in expenditure. The first result of this _régime_ was to put a stop to all the “squeeze” of the eunuchs, and to place their salaries upon a definite and moderate basis. Ts’en rapidly attained an intimate and confidential position with Her Majesty, to the great and increasing wrath of the chief eunuch, who left no stone unturned to injure him, and eventually succeeded, with the help of Jung Lu, in inducing Her Majesty to dispense with his personal services. For over a month, however, the Old Buddha spent hours daily discussing public and private affairs with this fearless and upright official, and it would have been well for her had she retained him and others of his quality about her to counteract the corrupt tendencies of her Manchu clansmen and the eunuchs. After Ts’en’s transfer to Shansi, the chief eunuch did not scruple to suppress and destroy many of the memorials which as Governor he addressed to the Old Buddha, and which Li did not desire his mistress to see. Gradually he re-established himself as completely as before in the confidence and favour of his mistress, and before the Court’s return to Peking he had become if anything more familiarly arrogant than at any previous stage in his career. At audiences given to the highest officials he would even go so far as to refuse to transmit Her Majesty’s orders, bluntly informing her that he was tired and that there had been enough public business for that day!

The vast quantities of tribute levied by the Court from the Southern Provinces at this time were handled in the first instance by Li Lien-ying, whose apartments were stacked with heaps of dragon robes, tribute silk and other valuables. Of all the tribute paid in bullion, the Empress Dowager’s share was one-half, while the eunuchs divided one-fifth, and the balance was handed over to Jung Lu for military purposes and his own emolument. So profitable was the eunuchs’ business at Hsi-an and Kai-feng, that Li Lien-ying did his utmost to dissuade the Old Buddha from returning to Peking, endeavouring to frighten her by alarming prognostications of the vengeance of the foreign Powers. Li’s motives were not entirely mercenary, however, for there is no doubt that for a long time he fully expected to find his own name on the “black list” of the Legations, and that it fully deserved to figure there. He directed the second eunuch, named Ts’ui, to communicate to him daily the latest news from Peking, and it was only when reassured by reports from Prince Ch’ing, that his courage returned, and his opposition to the Court’s return ceased. The conciliatory attitude, which he eventually adopted towards the Empress Dowager’s reform policy, was largely induced by the good advice which he received from Jung Lu, who strongly urged him to control his reactionary opinions and violent temper.

The amount of tribute paid in silver to the Court at Hsi-an was over five million taels, the quota from each Province being kept separate. The chief eunuch was assisted in the supervision of the tribute accounts by another favourite of the Old Buddha, a eunuch named Sun, whose covetousness and bullying methods of “squeeze” were almost equal to those of his chief. On one occasion the deputy in charge of the tribute from Hupei was paying in bullion to the Imperial Household, and Sun was tallying the amounts with a steelyard. He said there was a shortage. “That cannot be so,” said the deputy, “for every shoe of Hupei silver weighs fifty taels exactly, so that there can be no mistake.” The eunuch looked at him insolently, and said, “How many times have you brought tribute, and what do you know about the customs of the Court?” The frightened deputy persisted that all was in order. Sun then said angrily: “I suppose, then, you mean that the Old Buddha’s scales are false?” He was just proceeding to assault the unfortunate deputy, when the Old Buddha herself, overhearing the argument (the court-yards of her residence being very small) came out and directed the eunuch to bring the silver into her own apartments, where she would weigh it herself. “I believe there has been a great deal of leakage lately,” she said; “it is the business of my eunuchs to see that I am not cheated.” The deputy took his departure, looking extremely crestfallen, but on his way out he was met by Chi Lu, the Controller of the Household, who said to him, “We all know you have been having a bad time of it, but you must not mind. These eunuchs have been making very little money of late, for the Old Buddha has been keeping a very sharp watch on them; you must therefore excuse them. And they have lost a great deal in Peking.”

Tribute of twenty-four kinds was received from Canton, but the eunuchs on their own initiative, and in order to compel _largesse_, rejected nine different kinds of articles, so that the official in charge was greatly alarmed, fearing that the Old Buddha would accuse him of having stolen the things which the eunuchs refused to receive. This was one of their commonest methods of levying tribute on their own account; another was to make large purchases in the name of the Empress, and refuse to pay for them. Much hardship was inflicted on the people of Hsi-an, and indeed of the entire province, from their depredations, especially because at the time Shensi was already suffering from the beginnings of famine, caused by the prolonged drought. It is recorded in the accounts of the Governor Ts’en, that flour cost 96 cash a pound, eggs 34 cash apiece, and pork 400 cash a pound, while fish was almost unobtainable; these prices being about six times as high as those ruling in southern China.

Many of the eunuchs appeared to take pleasure in humiliating the Emperor, and subjecting him to petty annoyances, which often roused him to petulant outbursts of temper. In one letter from the Court at Hsi-an it was reported that His Majesty appeared to be a little wrong in the head, for he would spend his time playing foolish games, such as hide-and-seek, with the younger eunuchs, until interrupted by the Empress Dowager, when he would immediately get into a corner and assume a sullen demeanour. At other times, when irritated, he would give way to violent fits of rage and throw the household crockery at the heads of his attendants. These reports must be received with caution, as they were frequently spread abroad by the chief eunuch and members of the reactionary party in order to damage His Majesty in the eyes of the outside world.

As above stated, after the return of the Court from its journeying in the wilderness (1902) Li’s influence with the Empress Dowager was, if anything, greater than before, all the internal affairs of the Palace being under his supreme control. Following Her Majesty’s example, however, he professed his complete conversion to the necessity of reform, and even gave his approval, after certain amendments had been made by the Grand Council and by himself, to her programme for the granting of a Constitution. Jesting with Her Majesty in his usual familiar manner, he was heard on more than one occasion to predict her conversion to Christianity. “We are only sham devils now, Old Buddha,” he said.

Nevertheless, and in spite of advancing years and infirmity, he has clung, and still clings, tenaciously to the perquisites and privileges of his stewardship, fiercely defending the eunuch system and his own post by all the means (and they are many) in his power. When, in 1901, T’ao Mo, late Viceroy of Canton, sent in his famous Memorial urging that, in view of the greatly reduced number of the Imperial concubines, the eunuchs should be replaced by female attendants, Li successfully intrigued to prevent this document reaching Her Majesty until he had taken effective steps to prevent her being advised in favour of the suggestion. T’ao Mo’s Memorial was as follows:—

“The prosperity of the State depends absolutely upon the virtue of the ruler. Where the sovereign surrounds himself with wise and just men, the country must benefit; where he chooses time-servers to advise him, rebellion and chaos will be the inevitable result. If one human being be called upon to attend to the multifarious duties of the State, in addition to managing the internal affairs of the Palace, his position may be glorious indeed, but the responsibilities thereof are too great for any man to bear. Even a sovereign, surrounded by men of the sternest integrity, might well pause and falter at the dread chances of failure. But how can a nation possibly escape dire misfortune when, between sovereign and subjects is set up a barrier composed of men of the most contemptible and degraded kind? These creatures are not necessarily all traitors or notorious scoundrels; it is sufficient, for the undoing of a sovereign, that he be surrounded at all hours by illiterate persons, lacking in moral perception, who pander to his moods and minister to his caprices. Even the worst Minister of State has not the same opportunity of influencing his Emperor for evil: but these eunuchs are for ever about and around him. Intimacy with eunuchs necessarily brings about a sapping of the moral fibre; any ruler exposed to their influences cannot possibly keep in touch with his people.

“But if we wish to root out these influences, we must proceed as if we were weeding out tares in a field. If we leave the roots in the ground, they will sooner or later spring up again to fresh life. Complete eradication is the only cure. His Majesty is come of age and his character is daily developing; how deeply he must deplore the fact that he is compelled to associate with this class of men at a time when he is doing his best to introduce a policy of reform! If previous Dynasties employed eunuchs it was because of the large number of concubines in the Palace, but his present Majesty’s harem is small, and he might therefore preferably employ female attendants to minister to his personal wants, while the official duties of the Household might be discharged by men of good birth and education. Why should it be necessary to employ eunuchs for such posts?

“At the present time, the Court at Hsi-an employs an enormous number of eunuchs; a favourable opportunity therefore presents itself for reducing their number, retaining only some twenty or thirty of the more respectable among them. Orders should be given, after the Court’s return, that for the future no more eunuchs shall be engaged, and the Palace administration should be thoroughly reorganised. By this means, long-standing abuses will be removed, and the glory of your Majesty’s reign will be enhanced for all time.

“At this moment, many reforms are being projected, in regard to which Your Majesties have received numerous suggestions from many high officials. But in my opinion, this question of the employment of eunuchs, though apparently of minor importance, transcends all others, and the possibility of reform depends largely on their removal. The system has been abolished in all foreign countries and persists only in China. It exposes us to much adverse criticism and contumely, and by abolishing it we should gain the respect of civilised nations. As an official holding a provincial post, I am prohibited by law from criticising the administration of the Palace; nevertheless, I hold it to be my duty at this juncture to offer my suggestions, however humble and worthless, in token of my gratitude to Your Majesties for your generous favours.”

Since that day, there have been repeated denunciations of the eunuch system, and rumours of their impending removal, but their influence shows little sign of diminution, and officials of the courage and integrity of T’ao Mo are a small minority in the Mandarinate. Reform measures on paper are numerous enough, measures forecasting self-denial and zeal for the common good at some future and undetermined date, but it is significant of the existing condition of affairs and the strong hold of the powers of reaction, that the native Press has lately passed from its former robust independence under complete official control, and that the voice of Young China, which formerly denounced the eunuchs and other causes of national degeneration, is but faintly heard in the land.

VII

A QUESTION OF ETIQUETTE

The following secret Memorial, submitted by the Censor Wu K’o-tu, in 1873, casts no direct light on the life and character of the Empress Dowager; it is of permanent interest nevertheless, and valuable, in that it enables us to realise something of the unbounded arrogance of the Chinese official class and the childish ignorance of that Court in which Tzŭ Hsi lived and moved and had her being. Documents like these—their number is legion for those who look for them—throw into strong relief the futility of western diplomacy confronted by a national sentiment of contempt for the barbarian so deep-rooted and far-reaching; and they make one wonder at the persistence of those comfortable delusions, those facile lines of least resistance, which the foreign Powers and their Legations have cherished to this day in spite of many humiliating experiences. And if, from the general, one returns to particular study of the remarkable woman whose personality dominated the destinies of men and the foreign relations of her country for half a century, the state of affairs revealed by documents like these must compel unstinted admiration for a mind so obviously superior to its environment. Finally, there lurks in this Memorial a certain quality of (possibly unconscious) humour which may justify its inclusion, in the nature of an _entremets_, at this stage of our narrative:—