Part 11

“_A Secret Memorial urging the Throne to put a stop to official wrangling and to excuse the Ministers of foreign nations from kneeling at audiences, in order that our magnanimity may be proved and our prestige exalted. A prayer based, moreover, on the fact that our demands in this matter cannot be successfully pressed and that protracted discussion has so far resulted in a hopeless deadlock._

“From the day when first the foreign Ministers asked to be permitted to present their credentials, nearly six months ago, our statesmen have discussed the question, without arriving at any solution of its difficulties. First, they debated whether the Ministers should be granted audience at all, and having agreed upon this, they proceeded to discuss whether they should be compelled to kneel.

“In discussing this matter with certain minor officials, it has occurred to me to wonder wherein really lies the gravity of the question sufficient to justify all this bother and excitement? As Mencius remarks, ‘Why should the Superior Man engage in altercation with birds and beasts?’

“I have heard, and believe, that the rulers of foreign nations are deposed by their subjects for all the world like pawns on a chess board. I have seen with my own eyes the foreigners who live in Peking walking abroad, preceded by the females of their household either on foot or in sedan chairs; the men folk following meekly in their rear, like servants—all unashamed. They have made some score of treaties with China, containing at least ten thousand written characters. Is there a word in any one of them concerning reverence for parents, or the cultivation of virtue and respect for the nine canons of rightful conduct? No! Is there one word in any one of them as to the observance of ceremony, as to duty, integrity and a proper sense of shame, the four cardinal principles of our nation? Again, no! All that they speak of is material profit. ‘Such and such a clause implies benefits or profits for China.’ They think only of profit, and with the meretricious hope of profit they beguile the Chinese people. These men know not even the meaning of duty and ceremony, wisdom and good faith, yet we profess, forsooth, to expect them to act as if they were endowed with the five cardinal virtues! They know not the meaning of the Heaven-ordained relationship between Sovereign and Minister, between father and son, husband and wife, elder and younger brother, friend and friend—yet we propose to require them to conform to the five principles of duty! It seems to me that one might as well bring together dogs and horses, goats and pigs, in a public hall and compel these creatures to perform the evolutions of the dance!

“If we insist upon their reverently kneeling, in what manner will it increase the lustre of the Throne’s prestige? If we excuse them from kneeling, how can this possibly affect the Sovereign’s majesty?

“But our statesmen hold that long and careful deliberation before assenting to the foreigners’ wishes in this matter will cause the latter to say: ‘If so great pressure be required to extract even this trifling concession from China, how small must be our hopes of future success in dealing with great matters.’ In this way, it is thought, we may cause their everlasting demands on China to cease, and we should thus gain, while they lose, prestige. But, in my humble opinion, our nation’s prestige depends not on any foreigners’ estimate of us, nor is their humiliation to be brought about in this way. If once they perceive that we attach a real importance to their kneeling at audience, and that we are loth to exempt them from this ceremony, while at the same time they are fully aware that we dare not go to war with them, they will simply insist the more firmly on their demands and threaten us with war if we fail to comply. Our weakness once exposed, they will stick at nothing.

“I have heard that, in their despatches and treaties, the puny hobgoblin or petty monsters whom they have the audacity to call ‘Emperors’ are placed on a level of equality with His Sacred Majesty! If our statesmen can brook an outrage like this and feel no shame, why should they trouble themselves about the foreign Envoys’ refusal to kneel? Two years ago, when the Russian barbarians were pressing in upon China from Ili and all the North-west, when they were seizing vast stretches of our territory, and carrying out their policy of aggression on a scale unparalleled in all the history of our relations with barbarians; when their crafty and deep-laid plans threatened the Empire with the gravest dangers—our statesmen showed no sense of shame. But now, we are to believe that there is humiliation to China in the Ministers’ unwillingness to kneel! Our statesmen appear to imagine that if foreign nations decline to comply with the formalities of Chinese etiquette, China will thereby be disgraced, but in my humble opinion, compliance on their part would jeopardise our country. From ancient times immemorial the policy of the Government has been guided by two main factors, viz., the exigencies of the moment and the amount of force available to carry out a given line of action. At the present moment China’s position does not justify her in contending for this point and our national forces are quite inadequate to impose our will upon any other nation. China should therefore seek to develop efficiency and in the meantime resort to compromises.

“A disciple of Confucius once asked the Sage in what lay the art of government. The Master replied that the three first requisites were, a sufficiency of food, a sufficiency of troops and the confidence of the people. The disciple then asked which of these three could be dispensed with, in case of urgent necessity? Confucius replied, ‘Dispense first with the troops and next with the food supply.’ From this we may learn that the Sage, aiming at perfection in the art of government, would approve of no rash or ill-considered action in deciding a matter of this kind. A clear course of action should be definitely pre-arranged by careful thought; there should be no question of any hasty or immature decision, calculated only to involve the country in difficulties. Our statesmen ought, in the first instance, to have examined this Audience question in all its bearings, weighing carefully the issues involved, and should have considered whether, in view of the relative strength of China and foreign nations, resistance was advisable. If China were not well aware of her own weakness, she would insist upon her rights, and without weighing the relative importance in each case; but as, in the present instance, she does not feel strong enough to insist, the Ministers should have been told at once that the Throne would waive the question of their kneeling at audience, and that His Majesty would dispense in their case with the formalities and ceremonies required by the etiquette of the Chinese Court. By so doing we should have avoided the outward and visible manifestations of weakness, and foreigners would have been led to perceive how small is the importance we attach to them as individuals. Would not this be an example of enlightenment and statesmanship to impress Chinese and barbarians alike?

“But no; we must needs begin by raising objections to receiving the foreign Envoys, and then, having been compelled to yield this point, we proceeded to require them to kneel at audience. The only possible result of this will be that we shall finally have to yield to their protest; but our acquiescence will perforce be performed with bad grace and with every appearance of an act performed under compulsion. It was precisely in this way that we blundered when we made the Treaty of Tientsin. I am convinced that the Throne’s position will be an unenviable one if the views of these statesmen be adopted, and would suggest as a solution of the difficulty, that His Majesty should decide for himself, and inform his Councillors that the question is really one of minor importance. The foreign Ministers are not Chinese subjects; why, then, should they conform to a Chinese ceremony? If they were to do so, and if the ceremonial were slovenly or awkwardly performed, might it not become a burlesque? And if the foreign Ministers were thus made to look ridiculous, would not China be violating the principle which lays down that we must ‘treat strangers from afar with courtesy and consideration’? If it should happen—as well might be—that the spectators should be unable to control their mirth at so ridiculous a spectacle, might not the humiliation felt by the foreigners at their discomfiture, and their consequent rage, lead them to declare war against China? It seems, therefore, advisable that the Throne should issue a Decree excusing the Envoys from performing the ceremonies of our Court, and, in the event of their ignorantly offending against any of the rules of etiquette, that we should exercise a wise forbearance. Our statesmen should refrain from querulous arguments; they should bear in mind that to dispute with these foreigners is unworthy of us. In this they will display the perfection of magnanimity. At the same time it should be carefully explained that this Decree is an act of clemency, of the Emperor’s own initiative, and contrary to the advice of his Ministers. It must not serve as a precedent by reason of which foreigners may be led to demand other concessions from China, or to coerce her in other directions. By these means we shall preserve our self-respect, and at the same time prevent all possibility of our people attempting reprisals against foreigners, to avenge what they might regard as an insult to China. And for the rest, let us proceed to develop our strength, biding our time.

“One word only would I add, of warning. It is possible that the audacious and treacherous foreigners may endeavour to address His Majesty at audience. Our statesmen should be prepared in advance with the proper reply to make in such a case, so that they may avoid being put to sudden confusion.

“I, the writer of this worthless Memorial, am but an ignorant inhabitant of a wild and remote district, and know nothing of affairs of State. Greatly daring and of rash utterance, I present this my Memorial, knowing the while that in so doing I risk the penalty of death.”

To this Memorial the following Rescript was issued by the Empresses Dowager:—

“We have perused this Memorial and find it not lacking in point. The foreign Ministers are hereby permitted to appear at Audience and to act thereat in accordance with their own national Court ceremonies. Thus the Throne will display its benevolent indulgence to the strangers from afar and make a proper distinction between Chinese and barbarians.”

It is worthy of note that the author of the Memorial was the same upright and fearless Censor, Wu K’o-tu, whose name became a household word upon his committing suicide at the grave of T’ung-Chih, as an act of protest against the illegality of the succession ordained by Tzŭ Hsi. If such were (and are) the views held by China’s bravest and best, can we wonder at the absurdities that have led the ignorant masses to sudden uprisings and deeds of violence against the foreigners? Wu K’o-tu’s trenchant scorn of the sordid commercialism that marks the foreigners’ Treaties, is typical of the attitude of the orthodox Chinese scholar.

VIII

MAJORITY AND DEATH OF THE EMPEROR T’UNG-CHIH

In the eleventh year of T’ung-Chih (November 1872) the Empresses Dowager, as Co-Regents, issued a Decree, recounting the circumstances which had led to the Regency (which they once more described as having been thrust upon them), and announced the fact that His Majesty’s education having been completed, they now proposed to hand over to him the reigns of government; they therefore directed that the Court of Astronomers should select an auspicious day upon which His Majesty should assume control. The astrologers and soothsayers having announced that the 26th day of the 1st Moon was of fortunate omen (wherein, as far as the Emperor was concerned, they lied), the Co-Regents issued on that day the last Decree of their first Regency, which is worth reproducing:—

“His Majesty assumes to-day the control of the Government, and our joy at this auspicious event is in some degree blended with feelings of anxiety as to the possible results of this change; but we bear in mind the fact that his sacred Ancestors have all feared the Almighty, and endeavoured to follow in the sacred traditions of their predecessors. At the moment, peace has not been completely restored throughout the Empire, for rebellion is still rife in Yünnan, Shensi and the North-West region. It behoves the Emperor to bear steadily in mind the greatness of the task which God and his ancestors have laid upon him alone, and carefully to obey the House laws of the Dynasty in all things. When not actually engaged on business of State, he should employ his time in studying the classics and the precedents of history, carefully enquiring into the causes which have produced good or bad government, from the earliest times down to the present day. He should be thrifty and diligent, endeavouring to make perfect his government. This has been our one constant endeavour since we took upon ourselves the Regency, the one ideal that has been steadily before our eyes.”

The Decree concludes with the usual exhortation to the Grand Council and the high officers of the Provincial administration, to serve the Throne with zeal and loyalty.

As far as the Emperor was concerned, these admirable sentiments appeared to have little or no effect, for his conduct from the outset was undutiful, not to say disrespectful, to his mother. Nor was this to be wondered at, when we remember that since his early boyhood he had shown a marked preference for the Empress Dowager of the East (Tzŭ An) and that he was well aware of the many dissensions and intrigues rife in the Palace generally, and particularly between the Co-Regents. He had now attained his seventeenth year, and, with it, something of the autocratic and imperious nature of his august parent. He was encouraged in his independent attitude by the wife whom Tzŭ Hsi had chosen for him, the virtuous A-lu-te. This lady was of patrician origin, being a daughter of the assistant Imperial tutor, Ch’ung Ch’i. In the first flush of supreme authority, the boy Emperor and his young wife would appear to have completely ignored the danger of their position, but they were speedily to learn by bitter experience that Tzŭ Hsi was not to be opposed, and that to live peacefully with her in the Palace was an end that could only be attained by complete submission to her will. The first trouble arose from the Emperor’s refusal to submit State documents for his mother’s inspection, but there were soon other and more serious causes of friction. But above and behind all lay the ominous fact that, in the event of an heir being born to the Emperor, A-lu-te would from that day become Empress mother, and in the event of the Emperor’s subsequent decease, to her would belong by right the title of Empress Dowager, so that, come what might, Tzŭ Hsi would be relegated to a position of obscurity and insignificant authority. It is impossible to overlook this fact in forming our opinion of subsequent events, and especially of the motives which actuated the Empress Dowager when, after the death of T’ung-Chih, she insisted on the election of another infant Emperor at all costs and in violation of the sacred laws of Dynastic succession. Apart from her inability to brook any form of opposition and her absolutely unscrupulous methods for ridding herself of anything or anyone who stood in the path of her ambition, no impartial estimate of her action at this period can deny the fact that it was entirely to her interest that the Emperor T’ung-Chih should not have an heir, and that his Consort should follow him speedily, in the event of his “mounting the Dragon chariot, and proceeding on the long journey,” All commentators agree that Tzŭ Hsi encouraged the youthful Emperor’s tendencies to dissipated habits, and that, when these had resulted in a serious illness, she allowed it to wreck havoc with his delicate constitution, without providing him with such medical assistance as might have been available. One of the members of the Imperial Household, by name Kuei Ching,[26] deploring the Emperor’s licentious habits and foreseeing his early death, took occasion to urge that the deplorable influence exercised over him by disreputable eunuchs should be removed, and that greater care should be taken of his manners, morals and health. He even went so far, in his zeal, as to decapitate several of the offending eunuchs, but in so doing he incurred not only the displeasure of the Empress Dowager, but of the Emperor himself, who desired neither criticism nor assistance from anyone around him. The unfortunate Kuei Ching was therefore compelled to resign his post, and to leave the Emperor to his fate. His colleagues, the Ministers of the Household, Wen Hsi and Kuei Pao, men of a very different stamp, and open partisans of the Empress Dowager, not only did nothing to restrain the Emperor from his vicious courses, but actually encouraged him, so that it became a matter of common knowledge and notorious in the capital that they and the Emperor together were wont to consort with all the evil characters in the worst localities of the Southern City. It became cause for scandal in the Palace itself that His Majesty would return from his orgies long after the hour fixed for the morning audience with his high officers of State. He was mixed up in many a drunken brawl and consorted with the lowest dregs of the Chinese city, so that it was no matter for surprise when he contracted the germs of disease which speedily led to his death. Already in 1873 it was apparent that the Dragon Throne would soon be vacant. In December 1874, he contracted smallpox and during his illness the Empresses Dowager were called upon to assume control of the Government. Towards the end of the month, he issued the following Decree.

“We have had the good fortune[27] this month to contract smallpox, and their Majesties, the Empresses Dowager, have shown the greatest possible tenderness in the care for our person. They have also consented to peruse all Memorials and State papers on our behalf, and to carry on the business of the State, for which we are deeply grateful. We feel bound to confer upon their Majesties additional titles of honour, so as to make some return, however small, for their infinite goodness.”

The Emperor’s enfeebled constitution was unable to resist the ravages of his combined diseases, and his physical condition became in the highest degree deplorable; at 8 P.M. on the 13th January 1875, in the presence of the Empresses Dowager and some twenty Princes and Ministers of the Household, he “ascended the Dragon” and was wafted on high. Amongst those present at his death-bed were the Princes Kung and Ch’un, as well as Tzŭ Hsi’s devoted henchman and admirer Jung Lu. After the Emperor’s death, a Censor, bolder than his fellows, impeached the two Ministers of the Household who had openly encouraged the Emperor in his dissipated courses, and Tzŭ Hsi, having no further use for their services, dismissed them from office. As further proof of her virtuous admiration for faithful service and disinterested conduct, she invited Kuei Ching to resume his appointment, praising his loyalty; but he declined the invitation, having by this time formed his own opinion of the value of virtue in Her Majesty’s service.

The Emperor having died without issue, all would have been plain and meritorious sailing for Tzŭ Hsi and her retention of supreme power, had it not been for the unpleasant fact, known to all the Court, that the Emperor’s consort, A-lu-te, was _enceinte_ and therefore might confer an heir on the deceased sovereign. In the event of a son being born, it was clear that both A-lu-te and Tzŭ An would _ipso facto_ acquire authority theoretically higher than her own, since her title of Empress Mother had lapsed by the death of T’ung-Chih, and her original position was only that of a secondary consort. As the mother of the Emperor, she had by right occupied a predominant position during his minority, but this was now ended. It was to her motherhood that she had owed the first claims to power; now she had nothing but her own boundless ambition, courage and intelligence to take the place of lawful claims and natural ties. With the death of her son the Emperor, and the near prospect of A-lu-te’s confinement, it was clear that her own position would require desperate remedies, if her power was to remain undiminished.

Among the senior members of the Imperial Clan, many of whom were jealous of the influence of the Yehonala branch, there was a strong movement in favour of placing on the Throne a grandson of the eldest son of the venerated Emperor Tao-Kuang, namely, the infant Prince P’u Lun, whose claims were excellent, in so far as he was of a generation lower than the deceased T’ung-Chih, but complicated by the fact that his father had been adopted into the direct line from another branch. The Princes and nobles who favoured this choice pointed out that the infant P’u Lun was almost the only nominee who would satisfy the laws of succession and allow of the proper sacrifices being performed to the spirit of the deceased T’ung-Chih.[28]