Part 17

Even the foreign policy of the Empire felt the effects of this rivalry of the opposing parties in the capital. The Empress, the Manchus, and the Chinese Bannermen were in favour of coming to an understanding with Russia, while the Emperor, Weng, and the southern Chinese, inclined to a _rapprochement_ with Japan, with a view to imitation of that country’s successful reforms. Li Hung-chang counted for little at the time, the fact being that, owing to his alleged responsibility for the war with Japan, his opinions were at a discount; but such influence as he had was used against the Emperor’s party. Prince Kung, the _doyen_ of the Imperial family, to whose ripe judgment the Empress herself would yield at times, was the only high Manchu to maintain friendly relations with the Chinese party. A fine scholar himself, he had always admired Weng T’ung-ho’s literary gifts; the war with Japan had been none of his seeking, and he had been recalled to the Grand Council, at the same time as Weng, after a retirement of fourteen years.

The fact is not generally known that Weng T’ung-ho was most anxious at this time to be sent as Special Envoy to the coronation of the Czar, for the reason that, realising the Empress Dowager’s growing hostility towards himself, he wished to be out of harm’s way in the crisis which he felt to be impending. By a Decree of 1895, Weng had been “excused from further attendance to instruct His Majesty at the Palace of Happy Education,” so that he could no longer influence His Majesty, as heretofore, at all times and seasons, and his rivals were thus enabled successfully to misrepresent him.

Prince Kung, the head of the Grand Council, went on sick furlough at the beginning of 1898, afflicted with incurable lung and heart complaints. The Emperor accompanied the Empress Dowager on three occasions to visit him at his residence, and ordered the Imperial physicians to attend him. On the 10th day of the 4th Moon he died, and the following Decree was issued by Tzŭ Hsi:—

“Prince Kung (Yi Hsin) was my near kinsman; for many years he has assisted in my Privy Councils. When, with my colleague, the deceased Empress Tzŭ An, I assumed the Regency at the beginning of the late Emperor’s reign, the coast provinces were in rebellion and the Empire in danger, Prince Kung ably assisted me in restoring order; and I then bestowed upon him high honours commensurate with his services. For over thirty years he has supported me with unswerving loyalty, although for part of that time he took no part in the business of the State. Again I recalled him to the Council, where he has ever done yeoman service, despite many and great difficulties. Of late his old sickness came upon him again, and I therefore went repeatedly with the Emperor to visit him, hoping for his fortunate recovery. Of a sudden, yesterday, he passed away, and thus, at this time of need, a trusty adviser is lost to me. How describe my grief? To-day I have visited his residence, there to make oblations. In the remembrance of bygone days I am completely overcome. I now bestow on him the posthumous title of ‘Loyal,’ I command that seasonal sacrifices be offered to his spirit in the Temple of the Virtuous and Good, and I ordain that the care of his grave shall be a charge on the public funds. Thus I manifest my sincere regard for my worthy kinsman and deep sorrow at the loss of my trusted Councillor.”

The above Decree clearly reflected the immediate effect on the Empress of party factions and intrigues in the Palace, and showed that, though nominally retired from control of the Government, she was still, whenever she chose, the autocratic ruler of the Empire and ready to assert herself in that capacity. The Emperor on this occasion issued a Decree on his own account, entirely subordinate to Tzŭ Hsi’s, and this in turn was followed by another, which called upon the Ministers of State to imitate Prince Kung’s devoted loyalty. It concluded with the significant announcement that the Prince’s valedictory Memorial had advised the Emperor to follow the Empress Dowager’s advice in all things, to organise an efficient army and to purify the administration.

Prince Kung’s death was a serious matter. On the one hand the Manchu party lost in him its senior representative, an elder whose wise counsel had guided them, and a statesman whose influence had been steadily exercised against their tendencies towards an anti-Chinese and anti-foreign policy. As the last survivor of the sons of Tao-Kuang, he held, _vis-à-vis_ the Empress Dowager, a position very different from that of the other princes, his contemporaries. It is probable that, had he survived, there would have been no Boxer rising. On the other hand, the Emperor had always deferred to Prince Kung’s advice, and it was not until after his death that he embarked headlong on the reform schemes of K’ang Yu-wei and his associates, many of which the Prince, though no bigoted Conservative, would certainly have condemned. To Weng T’ung-ho also the loss was serious, as well he knew, for Prince Kung had been his best friend.

It was shortly after the Prince’s death that Weng recommended K’ang Yu-wei to the Emperor’s notice, informing His Majesty that K’ang’s abilities were far superior to his own. Weng undoubtedly hoped that K’ang would gain the Sovereign’s favour and use it to assist the southern party against the Manchus, and especially against his arch enemies, Kang Yi and Hsü T’ung; but he certainly never anticipated that K’ang would go so far as to advise the Emperor to defy the Old Buddha herself, and to plot against her sacred person. His idea was simply to gain kudos and to strengthen his own position and that of his party. The Emperor accepted his recommendation of K’ang, and summoned the latter to audience on the 28th of the 4th Moon (14th June, 1898).

Weng told his friend and colleague, Liao Shou-heng, that he would await the result of this audience before coming to a decision as to his own future movements. If K’ang Yu-wei made a good impression, he would remain in office; if not, he would resign. He added that if the usual gifts of the Dragon Festival were sent him by the Emperor, he would feel that there was no immediate danger in his position. All he asked was that he might escape the open hostility of the Empress Dowager, such as had fallen upon the Cantonese Vice-President, Chang Yin-huan, whose dismissal was expected at any moment. As it happened, however, K’ang Yu-wei and his friends persuaded the Emperor to insist on retaining Chang Yin-huan in office, and for the next hundred days he became Kuang-Hsü’s right-hand man, playing his part, foredoomed, while in the “deep seclusion of her Palace” the Old Buddha bided her time.

On the 20th of the 4th Moon, Weng T’ung-ho applied for a week’s sick leave, a face-saving device which showed that he was aware of the impending storm. On the 23rd, His Majesty issued the first of his Reform Decrees. He had duly conferred on the subject with the Empress at the Summer Palace, and had accorded a special audience to Jung Lu. Tzŭ Hsi assured him that she would raise no obstacles to his proposed policy, provided that the ancient privileges of the Manchus were not infringed; at the same time, she insisted on his getting rid of Weng T’ung-ho without delay, as he was instigating an anti-Manchu movement which, if it gained headway, might involve the Dynasty in ruin. Jung Lu strongly recommended to His Majesty a notable progressive, the son of Ch’en Pao-chen, Governor of Hupei. The fact is of interest because of the idea prevalent among Europeans, that Jung Lu was ever opposed to reform. Subsequent events compelled him to turn against the very man whom he now recommended, but this was not so much on account of a change in his views, as because the policy of the reformers had developed on unexpected and dangerous lines. The first Reform Decree was as follows:—

“Of late years many of our Ministers have advocated a policy of reform, and we have accordingly issued Decrees which provide for the institution of special examinations in political economy, for the abolition of useless troops and the old form of examination for military degrees, as well as for founding Colleges. No decision has been taken in these matters without the fullest care, but the country still lacks enlightenment, and views differ as to the course which reform should follow. Those who claim to be Conservative patriots consider that all the old customs should be upheld and new ideas repudiated without compromise. Such querulous opinions are worthless. Consider the needs of the times and the weakness of our Empire! If we continue to drift with our army untrained, our revenues disorganised, our scholars ignorant, and our artisans without technical training, how can we possibly hope to hold our own among the nations, or to cross the gulf which divides the weak from the strong? It is our belief that a condition of unrest creates disrespect for authority and produces friction, which in turn leads to the formation of factions in the State, hostile to each other as fire and water. Under such conditions, our Government would find itself confronted by the abuses and errors of the Sung and Ming Dynasties, to its imminent peril. The virtuous rulers of remote antiquity did not cling obstinately to existing needs, but were ready to accept change, even as one wears grass-cloth garments in summer, and furs in winter.

“We now issue this special Decree so that all our subjects, from the Imperial family downwards, may hereafter exert themselves in the cause of reform. The basis of education will continue to rest on the canons of the Sages, but at the same time there must be careful investigation of every branch of European learning appropriate to existing needs, so that there may be an end to empty fallacies and that by zeal efficiency may be attained. Parrot-like plagiarisms of shallow theories are to be avoided, and catchwords eschewed. What we desire to attain is the elimination of useless things and the advancement of learning which, while based on ancient principles, shall yet move in harmony with the times. The Peking University is to be made a model for the Empire, and all officials of the rank of Board Secretaries, officers of the bodyguard, expectant Magistrates, sons of high officials and Manchus of hereditary rank, are to be entitled to enter upon a college course in order that their talents may be trained to meet the needs of these critical times. No procrastination or favouritism will be tolerated, nor any disregard of these, the Throne’s admonitions.”

On the following day was proclaimed the result of what the Emperor fully intended to be the last examination under the old classical-essay system. The candidate originally selected for the high honour of _Optimus_ was again a Kiangsu man, but the Empress herself altered the list and conferred the coveted distinction upon a native of Kueichou province, to mark her displeasure against the province which had given birth to Weng T’ung-ho. At the same time a Decree advised members of the Imperial Clan to seek education in Europe; even Princes of the Blood were to be encouraged to go abroad and to investigate political conditions. Among the Manchus, the sensation created by these Decrees was very great; they felt that, for the first time in history, fundamental things were being challenged, the ancient bulwarks of the Dynastic privileges in danger. Had not Mencius himself said: “We have heard of Chinese ideas being employed to convert barbarians, but have never heard of China being converted by barbarians.”

On the morning after the issue of the second Decree, Weng T’ung-ho, on return from his week’s leave, proceeded as usual at 4 A.M. to the Summer Palace to attend the audience of the Grand Council. He was met by one of the Secretaries to the Council who, handing him an Imperial Decree, informed him of his dismissal. It was Tzŭ Hsi’s first open move on behalf of the Manchu party, and a clear admission of tutelage on the part of the Emperor. This was the Decree:—

“A Vermilion Rescript.—We have recently had occasion more than once to observe that the Grand Secretary Weng T’ung-ho has failed in the proper performance of his duties, and that he is the object of very general criticism. He has frequently been impeached, and when questioned by ourselves at audience, he has allowed his manner to betray his feelings, even daring to express approval or displeasure in our presence. His conduct has gradually revealed a wild ambition and a tendency to usurp our authority: it is no longer possible to retain him on the Grand Council. Strictly speaking, his conduct merits close scrutiny and punishment, but bearing in mind that for years he has served us as our tutor, we are averse to inflicting any severe penalty. Weng T’ung-ho is ordered forthwith to vacate his post on the Council, and to return to his native place. Thus is our clemency made manifest.”

Another Decree proved even more plainly that the Emperor was completely under Tzŭ Hsi’s orders; it directed that all officials above the second rank should thenceforward return thanks to Her Majesty in person upon receiving appointments. This was a new departure, for, since the war with Japan, she had ceased to hold daily audiences, receiving officials only on her birthday and other State occasions. Another Decree of the same day transferred Jung Lu to Tientsin as Viceroy of Chihli. He and K’ang Yu-wei were received in audience next morning. To Jung Lu the Emperor gave orders to reorganise the forces in Chihli, adding that he looked to him for loyal co-operation in the reform movement. The audience to K’ang Yu-wei, first of many similar interviews (but the only one recorded in the official Gazette), lasted several hours. K’ang deeply disliked and feared Tzŭ Hsi, and from the outset he did his best to prejudice the Emperor against her. He reiterated his opinion that her sympathy for reform was merely a feint, and he roundly denounced her wanton extravagance and dissipated life at the Summer Palace. He described the unpopularity of the Manchu rule in the south as chiefly due to the people’s contempt for Her Majesty, and compared her private life to that of the notorious Empress Wu of the T’ang Dynasty. He advised Kuang-Hsü to relegate her permanently to retirement, she being the chief obstacle to reform. The Emperor fell speedily and completely under K’ang’s influence, and none of his subsequent Edicts was issued without K’ang’s assistance. In the light of later knowledge, and of almost universal Chinese opinion on this subject, it is difficult to acquit K’ang Yu-wei of personal and interested motives, of a desire to wield power in the State as the result of his influence over the Emperor, whose emotional pliability he made to serve his own ends. Looked at in this light, his denunciations of the Empress Dowager and Jung Lu were evidently less the outcome of patriotic indignation than of his recognition of the fact that, so long as Tzŭ Hsi remained in power, his ambitions could never be achieved, nor his own position secured.

XIII

THE HUNDRED DAYS OF REFORM

Immediately following upon K’ang Yu-wei’s first audience, reform Decrees followed one another in rapid succession. The old examination system which had been in force, with one brief intermission (in K’ang-Hsi’s reign), since the days of the Sung Dynasty, was definitely abolished. For the future, said the Emperor, papers on practical subjects were to be set at the public examinations, and while the classics were to remain as a basis for the literary curriculum, candidates for the public service would be expected to display a knowledge of the history of other countries and of contemporary politics. It was at this juncture that the President of the Board of Rites, Hsü Ying-k’uei (who, though a Cantonese, was a stalwart Conservative), was denounced by the Censors Sung Po-lu and Yang Shen-hsiu for obstructing the decreed reforms. They begged the Emperor to “display his divine wrath by immediately reducing Hsü to the rank of a fourth class official as a warning to other offenders.” “We have noted,” they said, “Your Majesty’s zeal in the cause of reform and your gracious desire to promote improved education and friendly relations with foreign Powers. The Board of Rites is in charge of all the colleges in the Empire and the Tsungli Yamên directs our policy. Hsü Ying-k’uei, President of the Board of Rites and a Minister of the Tsungli Yamên, is a man of second-rate ability, arrogant, ignorant, and hopelessly obstinate. Your Majesty, being deeply conscious of the vital need for permanent and radical reform, and anxious to encourage men of talent, has instituted a special examination in political economy, but Hsü Ying-ku’ei has dared to cast disparagement on your Majesty’s orders and has openly stated that such an examination is a useless innovation. It is his intention to allow as few candidates as possible to pass this examination so as to render it unpopular. He is similarly opposing every one of your Majesty’s proposed reforms. He vilifies western learning in conversation with his _protégés_, and is the sworn foe of all progressive scholars. Your Majesty’s chief complaint is that such scholars are too few in number, but Hsü Ying-ku’ei’s chief hope is to suppress the few there are.”

“In the Tsungli Yamên a single phrase wrongly expressed may well precipitate a war; so important are the duties there to be performed that no one unacquainted with foreign affairs, and the ways of those who seek to injure us, can possibly render effective service to the State. Hsü Ying-ku’ei is far from being a distinguished Chinese scholar; nevertheless he despises European learning. His boundless conceit is a menace to our country’s interests and dignity. It seems to us a monstrous thing that a man of this stamp should be employed at the Tsungli Yamên, and that his removal from the Board would be of incalculable benefit. He deserves to be removed from office for blocking reform and impeding the execution of your Majesty’s plans, if only as a warning to reactionary officials, who are all a danger to their country. If your Majesty will reduce him to the fourth official rank we shall escape the ridicule of foreign nations, and the cause of reform will be greatly advanced.”

On receipt of the above Memorial, Kuang-Hsü commanded Hsü Ying-ku’ei to submit a personal explanation of his conduct. The following is the text of his Memorial in reply, which shows K’ang Yu-wei in a light less favourable than that in which his admirers represented him:—

“I feel that because of my uprightness I have made myself enemies, and I am grateful to your Majesty for thus allowing me to defend myself. The Censors accuse me of thinking disparagingly of your Majesty’s orders. How can they know what is in my mind? Their accusations are evidently worthless. Li Hung-chang and myself were strongly in favour of the original scheme for instituting an examination for political economy. I observed, however, that great care must be exercised in carrying out this new idea, and that the selection for office of too many successful candidates might endanger the main object of the reform. While in no way desiring to make the standard prohibitively high, I was determined not to court popularity by consenting to making the path of these candidates too easy. How can these Censors know that we are opposed to the proposals of reform before our Memorials have seen the light? Their remarks are based on pure conjecture and prejudice. Moreover, many of your Majesty’s Decrees in no way concern the Board of Rites, _e.g._, the contemplated reform of military examinations and the abolition of sinecures in the army. Again, the Memorialists accuse me of vilifying western learning in conversation with my _protégés_, and of being the sworn foe of progressive scholars. As a native of Canton province, I have had no little experience of foreign affairs, and have constantly had occasion to recommend for employment men well versed in the arts and sciences of the west; for instance, Hua T’ing-chun, for his knowledge of marksmanship, and Fang Yao for his skill in the manufacture of guns. With all my _protégés_ my constant object has been to encourage them to acquire a thorough knowledge of current politics and to eschew forms of learning that are ornamental and useless.

“When the Censors accuse me of being the foe of scholars, they evidently refer to K’ang Yu-wei. As a native of my province K’ang was well known to me in his youth as a worthless fellow. After taking his degree and returning to his home, he was for ever inciting people to litigation; his reputation was evil. On coming to Peking he made friends with the Censors and intrigued with certain persons in high office, making great capital of his alleged knowledge of European science, in the hope of obtaining a lucrative post. On three occasions he tried to secure an interview with me, but I knew the man too well, and declined to receive him. He then founded a society at the Canton Guild-house, enrolling over two hundred members; but I caused it to be suppressed, fearing that disturbances would come of it. Hence K’ang’s hatred of me. When your Majesty summoned him to audience, he boasted to his fellow-provincials that high promotion was in store for him; he was keenly disappointed at getting nothing higher than a clerkship in the Tsungli Yamên. He has been spreading lies about me and inciting the Censors to attack me in the hope of ousting me, one of his chiefs, from my position. That is quite in keeping with his character. The Grand Secretary, Li Hung-tsao, used to say that the flaunting of western knowledge was used only too often by persons who had no real education therein; persons who hoodwinked the public and were accepted at their own valuation. K’ang Yu-wei has got hold of many wild and fantastic ideas, and is trying to make a reputation for himself by plagiarising hackneyed articles from European newspapers and disparaging our country’s ancient institutions. His proposals are utterly unpractical, and his motives will not bear investigation. If he is retained at the Tsungli Yamên, instead of being cashiered and sent back to Canton, as he deserves, he will inevitably bring about complications by the betrayal of State secrets. If he remains in Peking he and his associates will assuredly plot together for evil, their only object being to promote party strife and to foment intrigues.

“The danger with which his revolutionary tendencies threaten the State is indeed a most serious matter, and the Censors are, for once, quite right in describing me as his sworn foe.