Part 35

“It is to be remembered that between this, our Empire of China, and the outer barbarians, hostilities have frequently occurred since the remotest antiquity, and our national history teaches that the best way to meet them is to determine upon our policy only after carefully ascertaining their strength as compared with our own. Since the middle of the reign of Tao-Kuang the pressure of the barbarians on our borders has steadily increased, and to-day we are brought to desperate straits indeed. In 1860 they invaded the Capital and burnt the Summer Palace; His Majesty Hsien-Feng was forced to flee, and thus came to his death. It is only natural that His Majesty’s posterity should long to avenge him to the end of time, and that your subjects should continue to cherish undying hopes of revenge. But since that time, France has taken from us Annam, the whole of that dependency being irretrievably lost; Japan has fought us, and ousted us from Korea. Even worse disasters and loss of territory were, however, to follow: Germany seized Kiaochao; Russia followed by annexing Port Arthur and Talienwan; England demanded Wei-hei-wei and Kowloon, together with the extension of the Shanghai Settlements, and the opening of new treaty ports inland; and France made further demands for Kuang-Chou wan. How could we possibly maintain silence under such grievous and repeated acts of aggression? Craven would be the man who would not seek to improve our defences, and shameless would be he who did not long for the day of reckoning. I myself have enjoyed no small favours from the Throne, and much is expected of me by the nation. Needless for me to say how greatly I would rejoice were it possible for China to enter upon a glorious and triumphant war; it would be the joy of my closing days to see the barbarian nations subjugated at last in submissive allegiance, respectfully making obeisance to the Dragon Throne. Unfortunately, however, I cannot but recognise the melancholy fact that China is unequal to any such enterprise, and that our forces are in no way competent to undertake it. Looking at the question as one affecting chiefly the integrity of our Empire, who would be so foolish as to cast missiles at a rat in the vicinity of a priceless piece of porcelain? It requires no augur’s skill in divination to foresee that eggs are more easily to be cracked than stones. Let us consider one recent incident in proof of this conclusion. Recently, in the attack by some tens of thousands of Boxers and Imperial troops upon the foreign Settlements at Tientsin, there were some two or three thousand foreign soldiers to defend them; yet, after ten days of desperate fighting, only a few hundred foreigners had been slain, while no less than twenty thousand Chinese were killed and as many more wounded. Again, there are no real defences or fortified positions in the Legations at Peking, nor are the foreign Ministers and their Legation staffs trained in the use of arms; nevertheless, Tung Fu-hsiang’s hordes have been bombarding them for more than a month, and have lost many thousands of men in the vain attempt to capture the position.

“The fleets of the Allied Powers are now hurrying forward vast bodies of their troops; the heaviest artillery is now being brought swiftly to our shores. Has China the forces to meet them? Does she possess a single leader capable of resisting this invasion? If the foreign Powers send 100,000 men, they will easily capture Peking, and Your Majesties will then find escape impossible. You will no doubt endeavour once more to flee to Jehol, but on this occasion you have no commander like Sheng Pao to hold back the enemies’ forces from pursuit; or, perhaps, you may decide to hold another Peace Conference, like that at Shimonoseki, in 1895? But the conditions to-day existing are in no way similar to those of that time, when Marquis Ito was willing to meet me as your Minister Plenipotentiary. When betrayed by the Boxers and abandoned by all, where will your Majesties find a single Prince, Councillor, or Statesman able to assist you effectively? The fortunes of your house are being staked upon a single throw; my blood runs cold at the thought of events to come. Under any enlightened Sovereign these Boxers, with their ridiculous claims of supernatural powers, would most assuredly have been condemned to death long since. Is it not on record that the Han Dynasty met its end because of its belief in magicians, and in their power to confer invisibility? Was not the Sung Dynasty destroyed because the Emperor believed ridiculous stories about supernatural warriors clad in miraculous coats of mail?

“I myself am nearly eighty years of age, and my death cannot be far distant; I have received favours at the hands of four Emperors. If now I hesitate to say the things that are in my mind, how shall I face the spirits of the sacred ancestors of this Dynasty when we meet in the halls of Hades? I am compelled therefore to give utterance to this my solemn prayer, and to beseech Your Majesties to put away from you at once these vile magic workers, and to have them summarily executed.

“You should take steps immediately to appoint a high official who shall purge the land of this villainous rabble, and who shall see to it that the foreign Ministers are safely escorted to the headquarters of the Allied Armies. In spite of the great heat, I have hurried northwards from Canton to Shanghai, where your Majesties’ Decrees urging me to come to Peking have duly reached me. Any physical weakness, however serious, would not have deterred me from obeying this summons, but perusal of your Decrees has led me to the conclusion that Your Majesties have not yet adopted a policy of reason, but are still in the hands of traitors, regarding these Boxers as your dutiful subjects, with the result that unrest is spreading and alarm universal. Moreover, I am here in Shanghai without a single soldier under my command, and even should I proceed with all haste in the endeavour to present myself at your Palace gates, I should meet with innumerable dangers by the way, and the end of my journey would most probably be that I should provide your rebellious and turbulent subjects with one more carcass to hack into mincemeat. I shall therefore continue in residence here for the present, considering ways and means for raising a military force and for furnishing supplies, as well as availing myself of the opportunity of ascertaining the enemies’ plans, and making such diplomatic suggestions as occur to me to be useful. As soon as my plans are complete, I shall proceed northwards with all possible speed.”

The plain-spoken advice of Li Hung-chang was not without effect on the Empress Dowager. The Decrees issued by her in the name of the Emperor from Huai-lai on the 19th and 20th of August are the first indications given to the outside world that she had definitely decided on a policy of conciliation so as to render possible her eventual return to the capital—an event which, as she foresaw, would probably be facilitated by the inevitable differences and jealousies already existing among the Allies.

In the Edict of the 19th of August, after explaining that the whole Boxer crisis and the attack on the Legations was the result of differences between Christian and non-Christian Chinese, she querulously complains that the foreign Powers, although doubtless well meaning in their efforts to “exterminate the rebels,” are behaving in a manner which suggests aggressive designs towards China, and which shows a lamentable disregard of proper procedure and friendliness. She naively observes that the Chinese Government had been at the greatest pains to protect the lives and property of foreigners in Peking, in spite of many difficulties, and expresses much surprise at such an evil return being made for her invariable kindness and courtesy. If it were not for the unbounded capacity of foreign diplomats, fully proved in the past, in the matter of credulity where Chinese statecraft is concerned, it would be difficult to regard utterances like these as the work of an intelligent ruler. But Tzŭ Hsi was, as usual, justified, for at the very time when these Decrees were issued, Russia was already using very similar arguments, and making excuses for the Chinese government, in pursuance of her own policy at Peking.

In the conclusion of the Decree above referred to, Her Majesty orders Jung Lu, Hsü T’ung and Ch’ung Ch’i to remain in Peking to act as peace negotiators, but she admits that, in dealing with foreigners supported by troops and flushed with success, it may be difficult for them at the outset to determine on a satisfactory line of procedure. She leaves it to these plenipotentiaries, therefore, to determine whether the best course would be to telegraph to the respective Foreign Offices of the countries concerned, or to consult with the Consuls-General at Shanghai (_sic_), with a view to obtaining friendly intervention! It could not escape so shrewd a person as Tzŭ Hsi that the atmosphere of Peking at this juncture was not likely to be favourable to her purposes, and that it would be easier to hoodwink the Foreign Offices and the Consuls at Shanghai than those who had just been through the siege.

A Decree of the following day, also in the name of the Emperor, is couched in a very different strain—a pathetic admission of the Throne’s guilt, a plea for the sympathy of his people, and an exhortation to return to ways of wisdom. “Cleanse your hearts, and remove all doubt and suspicion from your minds, so as to assist us, the Emperor, in our shortcomings. We have been utterly unworthy, but the time is at hand when it shall be for us to prove that Heaven has not left us without sense of our errors and deep remorse.” The whole document reads with an unusual ring of sincerity, accepting, in the name of the Emperor, full blame for all the disasters which had overtaken the country, while reminding the official class that the first cause of these calamities dates back to the time when they learned and adopted habits of inveterate sloth and luxury. From depths of contrition, the Edict admits fully the Throne’s responsibility, “We, the Lord of this Empire, have failed utterly in warding off calamities from our people, and we should not hesitate for one moment to commit suicide, in order to placate our tutelary deities and the gods of the soil, but we cannot forget that duty of filial piety and service which we owe to our sacred and aged mother, the Empress Dowager.”

The policy of reform is now clearly enunciated and outlined as an essential condition of the future government of the Empire. Provincial and metropolitan officials are ordered to proceed at once to join the Court, in order that the reform programme may be speedily initiated; the Yangtsze Viceroys are thanked for preserving order in accordance with “treaty stipulations,” and Chinese converts to Christianity are once more assured of the Throne’s protection and good-will.

These utterances of the Throne, which lost nothing in their presentation to the respective Powers by Prince Ch’ing and his colleagues, soon produced the desired effect, and reassured the Throne and its advisers as to their personal safety. Accordingly, early in September, we find all the Viceroys and high officials of the Provinces uniting in a Memorial, whereby the Court is urged to return at once to the Capital, advice which would never have been given had there been any question of violent measures being taken by the Allies against the Empress Dowager. At this time the question of the future location of the Chinese Capital was being widely discussed at Court, and there was much conflicting advice on the subject. The Viceroys’ Memorial was drafted by Yüan Shih-k’ai and forwarded by him to Liu K’un-yi, at Nanking, for transmission; it definitely blames the Boxers and their leaders for the ruin which had come upon China, and rejoices at the thought that “the perplexities which embarrassed your Majesties in the past have now given place to a clearer understanding of the situation.” Noting the possibility of the Court’s leaving T’ai-yüan fu and making “a further progress” westwards to Hsi-an, the Memorialists deplore the idea and proceed to show that such a step would be unwise as well as inconvenient. As an example of the way in which Chinese Ministers of State deal with questions of high policy and strategy, the following extract from this Memorial is not without interest:—

“It is true that, in times past, our Capital has been shifted on more than one occasion of national danger, but in those days our enemies were not able to push their armies far into the interior of our country for indefinite periods, and were compelled to withdraw after brief expeditions. The position of affairs to-day, however, is very different, so that we can obtain no reliable guidance from precedents of history. As regards the province of Shensi, it has always been a centre of wars and rebellions; its people are poverty stricken, and there is no trade there. Seven centuries ago, Hsi-an was an Imperial city, but is now anything but prosperous. Its vicinity to Kansu and the New Dominion territories, infested with Mahomedan rebels and adjoining the Russian Empire, renders it most unsuitable as a site for your Majesties’ Capital. Supposing that the Allies, flushed with success, should determine on an advance westwards, what is there to prevent them from doing so? If ten thousand miles of ocean have not stopped them, are they likely to be turned back from a shorter expedition by land?”

After referring to the fact that the cradle of the Dynasty and the tombs of its ancestors are situated near Peking, and that it is geographically best fitted to be the centre of Government, the Memorialists remind the Throne that the foreign Powers have promised to vacate Peking, and to refrain from annexing any territory if the Court will return. These ends, they say, will not be attained should the Court persist in its intention to proceed further westwards, since it is now the desire of the foreign Ministers that China’s rulers should return to Peking. In the event of a permanent occupation of Peking by the Allies, the loss of Manchuria would be inevitable. The Memorialists predict partition and many other disasters, including financial distress, and the impossibility of furnishing the Throne with supplies at Hsi-an or any other remote corner of the Empire. If the Court’s decision to proceed to Hsi-an is irrevocable, at least a Decree should now be issued, stating that its sojourn there will be a brief one, and that the Court will return to Peking upon the complete restoration of peaceful conditions. “The continued existence of the Empire must depend upon the Throne’s decision upon this matter.” The Memorial concludes by imploring their Majesties to authorise Prince Ch’ing to inform the foreign Ministers that the withdrawal of the allied armies will be followed by a definite announcement as to the Court’s return.

In a further Memorial from the Viceroys and Governors, it is stated that the Russian Minister for Foreign Affairs had suggested to the Chinese Minister in St. Petersburg, that the location of the Capital at Hsi-an would certainly prove undesirable, in view of the poverty-stricken condition of the province, and that their Majesties would no doubt, therefore, proceed to Lan-chou fu, in Kansu. Referring to this interesting fact, the Memorialists observe:—

“Those who are in favour of establishing the Capital at Hsi-an profess to claim that the Yellow River and the T’ung Kuan Pass constitute natural and impassible frontiers against attack. They forget, however, that foreign nations possess artillery of very long range. At T’ung Kuan the Yellow River is less than two miles wide, and their guns will easily carry twice that distance. Your Majesties have nothing but the native artillery, and a few inferior foreign guns, and would never be able to hold the position. The foreigners would undoubtedly penetrate far into the interior, and control all the waterways, thus preventing transport and supplies. Even if one foreign Power were to find it difficult, there is no doubt that it would be easy for several of them acting together.

“Moreover, friendly Powers are entitled, by the law of civilised nations, to send their diplomatic representatives to our Capital. If peace be made, and the foreign Powers assent to the proposed change of capital, they will surely insist upon sending their envoys into Shensi. After their recent experiences, they will require to have foreign troops to guard their Legations, whose numbers must necessarily be large, in proportion to the distance from the coast. Foreign garrisons would thus have to be established at points in Honan, Shansi and Chihli, in order to maintain their line of communications, so that China would eventually be overrun by foreign troops. It is, therefore, plainly out of the question that the Court should leave Peking. In times of peace it might have been suggested, but to think of it after a disastrous war is impossible. The foreigners are acting in unison; China is completely disorganised. They have ample resources and reinforcements; China has none. If we have thoughts of fighting any foreign Power we must first form alliances with several others; in any case nothing can be done before an ample supply of ordnance and munitions of war has been accumulated. This is no time for considering such possibilities. We, your Memorialists, venture to suggest that Your Majesties have failed to take into consideration all these facts, and in impressing them upon you, we earnestly beg that you may now come to a wise decision.”

Before coming to a decision, however, Tzŭ Hsi required to be fully assured that the foreign Powers would not insist on her abdicating the supreme power as one of the conditions of peace. Convinced on that point, the hesitation which she had previously shown in regard to returning to Peking dropped from her like a garment. It had been freely predicted by conservative officials and the _literati_ that the Old Buddha would never again wish to see her desecrated capital or to visit the polluted shrines of her ancestors. In spite of her superstitious nature, however, she was far too level-headed and far-seeing a woman to attach supreme importance to sentimental considerations, or to allow them to weigh heavily in the balance when the question of her own rulership was at stake. The hesitation which she had shown and the attention which she had paid to the advice of those who, like Chang Chih-tung, desired her to establish a new capital in Central China, were primarily a question of “face.” She would only return to Peking if guaranteed the full dignity and power of her former position. But as the peace negotiations proceeded, and as it became clear to her that along the well-worn path of international jealousies she might return unpunished, and even welcomed, to Peking, she proceeded to make preparations for an early return. Fully informed each day by Prince Ch’ing of the progress which her plenipotentiaries were making towards the completion of the Peace Protocol, and overjoyed at its terms, she waited only until the condition of the roads, always more or less impassable after the summer rains, had sufficiently improved to permit of comfortable travelling. During the delay necessitated by the collecting and packing of the enormous quantity of “tribute” collected by Her Majesty and the Court during their stay at Hsi-an, she received definite confirmation of the good news that her treasure vaults in the capital had not been plundered by the foreign troops—good news which increased her anxiety to return as quickly as possible to superintend its removal before any pilfering by the eunuchs should take place.

It was on the 24th day of the 8th Moon (20th October, 1901) that the long procession started from Her Majesty’s temporary residence in the Governor’s Yamên; followed by an enormous retinue, she commenced her journey by sacrificing to the God of War, the guardian spirit of her Dynasty (and, it may be added, patron of the Boxers), at a small temple outside the city gates. From this onward the Court advanced northward by easy stages of about twenty-five miles a day, resting first at Ho-nan fu; thence on to K’ai-fêng, where her sixty-sixth birthday was celebrated and where she remained for some weeks. The travelling lodges and other arrangements for her comfort and convenience along the whole line of her route were in striking contrast to the squalor and privation which the Court had endured in the flight from Peking.

It was during her stay at K’ai-fêng that the Peace Protocol was signed at Peking. It was also before her departure from that city, at the end of the 9th Moon, that Li Hung-chang died. His knowledge of foreign affairs and remarkable ability in negotiations had been of the greatest service to his Imperial mistress, and there is no doubt that the liberal terms granted to China by the victorious Allies were very largely due to his efforts. Her Majesty, while fully appreciating his ability, had never treated him with marked favour, and had always refused to appoint him to the Grand Council, giving as her excuse that she could not understand his dialect. Upon his death, however, she conferred upon him an honour which had never before been granted to any Chinese subject under the Dynasty, namely, that of having a shrine built to his memory at the capital itself, in addition to those erected in the provinces where he had borne office.

It was significant of her impartial and intelligent rulership that, although she had blamed him as originally responsible for the Japanese War and its disastrous results, she had never approved of the Emperor’s hasty and vindictive action in removing him from the Viceroyalty of Chihli. Upon the signing of the Peace Protocol she conferred additional posthumous honours upon him, taking occasion at the same time, in an Imperial Decree, to congratulate and thank Prince Ch’ing, Yüan Shih-k’ai and others, who assisted in bringing about the settlement of peace terms. In particular she praised the loyalty of Jung Lu, “who had earnestly advised the annihilation of the Boxers, and who, in addition to other meritorious services on the Grand Council, had been chiefly instrumental in protecting the Legations.”

After a series of magnificent theatrical entertainments in honour of her birthday, the Court left K’ai-fêng and continued its journey to the capital. On the eve of her departure Her Majesty took occasion sternly and publicly to rebuke the Manchu Prefect, Wen T’i,[121] who had dared to advise her against returning to the capital, and to predict that the treacherous foreigners would certainly seize her sacred person—a useful piece of play to the gallery.