Part 37

“At 11.30 A.M., punctual to the minute, the train arrived at Feng-T’ai, where the Luhan line from Lu Ko-ch’iao meets the Peking-Tien-tsin Railway; here the British authorities took charge. The Empress Dowager was much reassured by the excellence of the arrangements and the punctuality observed; nevertheless, she continued to display anxiety as to the hour of reaching Peking, frequently comparing her watch with railway time. To M. Jadot, who took leave of Their Majesties at Feng-T’ai, she expressed again the satisfaction she had derived from this her first journey by rail, promising to renew the experience before long and to be present at the official opening of communication between Hankow and the capital. She presented five thousand dollars for distribution among the European and Chinese employés of the line, and decorated M. Jadot with the order of the Double Dragon, Second Class.

“From Feng-T’ai the railway under British control runs directly to the main south gate of the Tartar city (Ch’ienmen), but it had been laid down by the soothsayers and astrologers aforesaid that, for good augury, and to conform with tradition, the Imperial party must descend at Machiapu and enter the Chinese city by the direct road to the Palace through the Yung-ting Men. At midday, therefore, leaving the railway, the Court started in chairs for the city, in the midst of a pageant as magnificent as the resources of Chinese officialdom permit. The scene has been described by European writers as imposing, but a Japanese correspondent refers to its _mise-en-scène_ as suitable to a rustic theatre in his own country. Be this as it may, the Empress Dowager, reverently welcomed by the Emperor, who had preceded her, as usual, entered the city, from which she had fled so ignominiously eighteen months before, at the hour named by her spiritual advisers as propitious. Present appearances at Peking, as well as the chastened tone of Imperial Edicts, indicate that the wise men were right in their choice.

“It may be added, in conclusion, as a sign of the times, that the Empress Dowager’s sleeping compartment, prepared under the direction of Sheng Hsüan-huai, was furnished with a European bed. _Per contra_, it contained also materials for opium smoking, of luxurious yet workmanlike appearance.”

Within a week or so of the Court’s return, the representatives of the foreign Powers were duly received in audience under the conditions named in the Peace Protocol. It was observed that the Old Buddha assumed, as of old, the highest seat on the Throne daïs, the Emperor occupying a lower and almost insignificant position. At the subsequent reception of the Minister’s wives, in the Pavilion of Tranquil Longevity, the wife of the Doyen of the Diplomatic Corps presented an address to “welcome Her Imperial Majesty back to her beautiful Capital.” The document was most cordially, almost effusively, worded, and showed that the astute and carefully pre-arranged measures taken by the Empress to conciliate the foreign Powers by adroit flattery and “allurements” had already attained their desired effect. Already the horrors of the siege, the insults and the arrogance of 1900, were forgotten; already the representatives of the Powers were prepared, as of old, to vie with each other in attempts to purchase Chinese favour by working each against the other.

In receiving the address of the ladies of the Diplomatic Body, Her Majesty created a marked impression by the emotion with which she referred to her affectionate regard for Europeans in general and her visitors in particular. With every evidence of complete sincerity she explained that a “Revolution in the Palace” had compelled her to flee from Peking; she deeply regretted the inconvenience and hardships to which her good friends of the Foreign Legations had been so unfortunately subjected, and she hoped for a renewal of the old cordial relations. The foreign ladies left the audience highly satisfied with the Empress Dowager for her condescension, and with themselves at being placed in a position to display such magnanimity. This audience was the first of many similar occasions, and reference to the numerous works in which the social side of Her Majesty’s subsequent relations with Europeans have been described will show that the Old Buddha had not greatly erred when she assured Jung Lu of the value of ancient classical methods in dealing with barbarians, and promised him that all would readily be forgiven and forgotten in the tactful exercise of condescending courtesies.

Life settled down then into the old grooves, and all went on as before in the Capital of China, the garrisons of the Allies soon becoming a familiar feature in the streets to which gradually the traders and surviving Chinese residents returned. Once more began the farce of foreign intercourse with the so-called Government of the Celestial Empire, and with it were immediately renewed all the intrigues and international jealousies which alone enable its rulers to maintain some sort of equilibrium in the midst of conflicting pressures.

The power behind the Throne, from this time until his death, was undoubtedly Jung Lu, but the Foreign Legations, still confused by memories and echoes of the siege, and suspicious of all information which did not conform to their expressed ideas of the causes of the Boxer Rising, failed to realise the truth, and saw in him a suspect who should by rights have suffered punishment with his fellow conspirators. But the actual facts of the case, and his individual actions as recorded beyond dispute in the diary of His Excellency Ching Shan, and unmistakably confirmed by other independent witnesses, were not then available in the Chancelleries. Accordingly, when Jung Lu first paid his formal official calls upon the Foreign Ministers, he was anything but gratified at the reception accorded to him. In vain it was that he assured one member of the Diplomatic body, with whom he had formerly been on fairly good terms, that as Heaven was his witness he had done nothing in 1900 except his utmost to defend and save the Legations; his statements were entirely disbelieved, and so greatly was he chagrined at the injustice done him, that he begged the Empress Dowager in all seriousness to allow him to retire from the Grand Council. But Tzŭ Hsi, fully realising the situation, assured him of her complete confidence, and in a highly laudatory decree refused his request:—

“The Grand Secretary, Jung Lu,” she said, “is a most patriotic and loyal servant of the Throne, upon whose services we have long and confidently relied. During the whole of the Boxer Rebellion crisis it was he, and he alone, who calmly and fearlessly held to the path of firmness, whilst all around him was confusion and shouting, so that without doubt, he was the means of saving the Empire. Most glorious indeed is his merit. Although it may be said that the situation has now been practically saved, we have by no means recovered from the effects of this grievous national disaster, and there is urgent necessity for the abolition of countless abuses and the introduction of a programme of Reform. It is fitting that all should assist us to this end. Whilst we ourselves, in the seclusion of the Palace, labour unceasingly, how is it possible that the Grand Secretary, who has received such high favour at our hands, should even think of withdrawing from the stress of public life, leaving to us incessant and harassing labour? Would not his conscience drive him to remorse when reflecting on the self-denying duties of every loyal Statesman in the service of his Sovereign? His prayer is refused.”

On two subsequent occasions before her death, the populace and the foreign community in Peking were afforded opportunities of witnessing the Empress Dowager’s return to the city from short excursions by railway, and on each of these her affable, almost familiar, attitude was a subject of general comment. The first occasion was in the following spring, when she visited the Eastern Tombs, and upon her return, sacrificing as usual before the shrine of the God of War in the _enceinte_ of the Ch’ienmên, she talked volubly with several of the ladies whom she had met at Court. After emerging from the Temple, she called upon one of the eunuchs to bring her opera glasses, with which she eagerly scanned the crowd looking down from the wall of the city, waving her handkerchief whenever she perceived a familiar face. On one occasion she even shouted up an inquiry asking after the health of the daughter of one of the Foreign Ministers. The Manchu Princes and Chamberlains of the Court were unable to conceal their indignation and wrath at such condescension on the part of the Empress Dowager towards those whom, in spite of 1900, they still regarded (and regard to this day) as outer barbarians. So much incensed were they that they even urged Chi Lu to beg Her Majesty to desist, and to re-enter her chair, an invitation to which she paid not the slightest attention, being evidently well pleased at the violation of ceremonial etiquette which she was committing. It was noticed that the Emperor, on the other hand, took no notice whatsoever of the foreigners, and seemed to be sunk in a deep, listless melancholy.

The second occasion was after the Empress Dowager’s visit to the Western Tombs in April, 1903, four days after the death of her faithful friend and adviser, Jung Lu. On this occasion Her Majesty appeared to be in very low spirits, descending from the train slowly, and with none of her wonted vivacity. She greeted Kuei Hsiang, her brother, who was kneeling on the platform to receive her, with one curt sentence, “You have killed Jung Lu by recommending that useless doctor,” and passed on to her chair without another word. It was on this occasion, receiving certain foreign ladies in the travelling Palace erected for her at Pao-ting fu, that the Old Buddha alluded directly to the massacres of foreign missionaries which had taken place in that city, “with which she had, of course, nothing to do.” No doubt by this time, and by force of repetition, Tzŭ Hsi had persuaded herself of her complete innocence; but however this may be, she undoubtedly won over most of the foreigners with whom she came in contact, by the charm and apparent sincerity of her manner.

Before settling down to the accustomed routine of life in the Palace, the Empress Dowager, whose _penchant_ for personal explanation in Imperial Edicts seemed to be growing upon her, issued a Decree which gained for her renewed sympathy from all classes of Chinese officials. After the usual exhortations to her faithful subjects to co-operate loyally in her schemes for Reform, to put off the old bad ways and to persist energetically in well-doing, she gives a graphic description of the hardships which she and the Emperor endured during her compulsory “tour to the West.” After referring to the unforgettable shocks and sorrows of that journey, the Edict says:—

“I have now returned once more to my Palace and find the ancestral Temples reposing as of old in dignified and unbroken serenity. Beneath the deep awe which overcomes me in the presence of my glorious ancestors my soul feels an added weight of grief and remorse, and I only hope that by Heaven’s continued favour I may yet live to accomplish some meritorious work.”

And again, in a later passage, after referring to the drought which had brought Shensi and Shansi to the verge of famine, she says:—

“The Empire has come upon days of dire financial distress, and my people have been compelled to find funds for me from their very life blood; ill would it be for me to requite their loyalty by further levies of taxation, and the Throne is therefore bound to curtail its ordinary expenditure and to make strict economy its guiding rule for the future. With the exception of such repairs as are necessary to the Temples and ancestral shrines, I hereby command that no expenditure be incurred for repairs or decoration of the Palaces, except in cases of absolute necessity.”

XXIV

HER MAJESTY’S NEW POLICY

The crisis of 1900, all the horror of that abomination of desolation in her Capital and the hardships of her wandering in the wilderness, had brought home to the Empress the inherent weakness of her country and the stern necessity for remedial measures. Already, before the issue of the penitential Decree, quoted in an earlier chapter, she had announced to the world, with characteristic decision, her intention to adopt new measures and to break with those hoary traditions of the past which, as she had learned, were the first cause of the rottenness of the State. Her subsequent policy became in fact (though she was careful never to admit it) a justification of those very measures which the Emperor had so enthusiastically inaugurated in 1898, but her methods differed from his in that she omitted no precaution for conciliating the conflicting interests about the Throne and for disarming the opposition of the _intransigeants_ of the provinces.

The first intimation of Her Majesty’s conversion to new ideals of Government was given to the world in an Edict issued at Hsi-an on the 28th January, 1901, in the name of the Emperor. This document, drafted with the assistance of Jung Lu, is a remarkable example of Tzŭ Hsi’s masculine intelligence and statecraft, though somewhat marred by those long-winded repetitions in which Chinese Edicts abound. It was received with enthusiastic delight by the _literati_ throughout the Empire, even in Canton and the southern provinces, where, at the moment, Her Majesty was not personally popular. The vernacular Press claimed it as the most striking Edict in Chinese history. It combined an eloquent appeal to the people to accept the principle of reform together with a masterful justification of China and her people _vis-à-vis_ the outside world. It was most skilfully worded so as to placate all parties in the State and thus to enhance the reputation of the Old Buddha. The “Young China” party was particularly enthusiastic, for by this Decree Her Majesty definitely abandoned the principle of absolute autocracy which had been for centuries the corner-stone of the Chinese system of government. It was realised that so complete a departure from the traditions of the Manchu Dynasty, of the Imperial Clan and of all her previous convictions, could not have been attained but for the bitter lessons of 1900, and, admiration was therefore the more keen for the skill and courage with which, on the verge of old age, she resumed the burden of government in her ravaged capital. It was the ruling passion bravely asserted, and the sympathy of the nation could hardly be withheld from a ruler who thus bore her share in the national humiliation, who so frankly accepted responsibility for past errors and promised new and better methods for the future.

It was, of course, inevitable, in the light of all experience, that many of her subjects, as well as most foreigners, should doubt her sincerity, and should regard this Edict, like many others, as a case of “when the devil was sick.” But gradually, after the return of the Court, as it became clear to her immediate retainers and high officials that this self-confident woman was really in earnest, and as she continued steadily to impress her new policy upon the reluctant Clansmen, her popularity with the people at large, and especially in the south (where it had been much damaged by her fierce suppression of the Cantonese reformers of 1898), was gradually restored. From this time forward to the end of her life, whatever may have been the good or bad faith of her advisers and chief officials, every act of her career is stamped with unmistakable signs of her sincerity in the cause of reform, borne out by her recorded words and deeds.

From the Boxer movement she had learned at a bitter cost the lesson she was now putting into practice, but for all that she remained to the end faithful in her affection for the memory of the Boxer leaders; to the last she never failed to praise their loyalty to her person and the patriotic bravery of their attempt to expel the foreigner. But she had been compelled to learn in the hard school of experience the utter hopelessness of that attempt, and she was forced to the conclusion that, for the future, and until China should be strong enough, all anti-foreign proceedings must be suppressed.

Unflinchingly, therefore, she announced to her people a change of front unparalleled in the history of China. Certain it is (as was fully proved in the case of the Emperor in 1898) that no other ruler of the Dynasty could have proclaimed such drastic changes without causing serious dissensions and possibly civil war. But so masterly were her methods of dealing with the necessities of the situation, and so forcibly did the style and arguments of her Decrees appeal to the _literati_, that they carried very general conviction. Even the most bigoted Confucianists were won by her subtle suggestions as to what would have been the attitude of the Sage himself if confronted by such problems as the nation had now to face.

The text of the Decree recording her conversion is interesting:—

“Throughout the entire universe there exist certain fixed principles which govern the conduct of men, but nowhere do we find any finally fixed form of government. It is written in the Book of Changes[122] that when any given condition of affairs has run its natural course, and has been succeeded by another, there is no saying how long this new state may last; also in the Dialogues of Confucius it is written, that there is no difficulty in tracing the changes and reforms which each Dynasty has made in regard to the methods of its predecessors. Certain things remain ever unchanged, namely, the three fundamental bonds, between Sovereign and subject, father and son, husband and wife; also the five great moral obligations. These vary not, but are all as the sun and moon, enlightening the world. But in other matters there should be no fixed objection to change, no hide-bound finality of ideas; to obtain music from a lute or guitar one must touch all the strings. Each Dynasty in turn, since the beginning of time, has seen fit to introduce changes and has abolished certain customs of its predecessors; our own ancestors have set us many an example in modifying their conduct to meet the exigencies of their day. The system which prevailed at the date when first the Manchus captured Peking was very different from that in vogue when Moukden was the capital of our Empire.

“Looking at the matter broadly, we may observe that any system which has lasted too long is in danger of becoming stereotyped, and things that are obsolete should be modified. The essential need which confronts us is at all costs to strengthen our Empire and to improve the condition of our subjects. Ever since our journey to the West the Empress Dowager has been over-burdened with the labours and cares of the State.[123]

“Bitterly have we reproached ourselves with the thought that for the past twenty years abuses have steadily been increasing, while means of suppressing them have been continually put off until, at last, the state of our country has become parlous indeed. At this moment, when peace negotiations are proceeding, it is a matter of urgent necessity that steps be taken to reorganise our system of government so that hereafter our Celestial Empire may recover its ancient place of wealth and power. The Empress Dowager has now decided that we should correct our shortcomings by adopting the best methods and systems which obtain in foreign countries, basing our future conduct upon a wise recognition of past errors.

“Ever since the 23rd and 24th years of Kuang Hsü (1897 and 1898) there has been no lack of plans for reform, and suggestions of administrative change, but they have all been marked by vagueness and foolish looseness of thought. The crisis which was brought about in 1898 by the arch-traitor K’ang Yu-wei was in its possible consequences even more dangerous than the evil which has since been brought about by the unholy arts of the Boxers. To this day Kang and his associates continue to preach treason and to disturb the public mind by means of their writings from overseas. The object of their writings is simply anarchy, nor do they scruple to use catchwords which, while apparently appealing to the patriotism of our people, are really intended to create dissension. Thus they talk of the “defence of the Empire” and the “protection of the Chinese race,” and many of their dupes fail to realise that their main object is not reform, but a revolution against the Manchu Dynasty, and that they hope to create ill-feeling between the Empress Dowager and the Emperor. With treacherous cunning those conspirators took advantage of our weak state of health, and we were therefore glad when at our urgent request Her Majesty the Empress Dowager resumed the Regency. With amazing rapidity she grasped all the needs of the situation and delivered us from imminent peril, visiting swift punishment upon those traitors. But, whilst ridding the State of these evil-doers it was never Her Majesty’s wish or intention to block reform measures, whilst we, on our side, though recognising the necessity for change in certain directions, were never guilty of any desire to abolish all the ancient ways of our ancestors. Our loyal subjects must recognise that it has been Her Majesty’s invariable wish, and our own, to follow the happy mean, we, as mother and son, being in complete accord, to steer a wise middle course between conflicting policies.

“We have to-day received Her Majesty’s orders, and learn that she is now thoroughly bent on radical reform. Nevertheless, whilst we are convinced of the necessity of blending in one harmonious form of administration the best customs and traditions of Chinese and European Governments, there is to be no talk of reaction or revolution. The chief defect in our system of administration is undoubtedly too close an adherence to obsolete methods, a too slavish devotion to the written word; the result is a surfeit of commonplace and inefficient officials, and a deplorable lack of men of real talent. The average commonplace man makes a god of the written word, whilst every bureaucrat in the land regards it as a talisman wherewith to fill his purse, so that we have huge mountains of correspondence eternally growing up between one government office and another, the value of which is absolutely _nil_ so far as any good to the country is concerned. On the other hand men of real ability lose heart and give up the public service in disgust, prevented from coming to the front by the mass of inefficiency that blocks the way. Our whole system of government has come to grief through corruption, and the first steps of progress in our Empire are clogged by the fatal word ‘Precedent.’