CHAPTER XXV.

A CHAIN OF INCIDENTS.

I. DISPUTE WITH RUSSIA _RE_ KULDJA.

Insurrection in Kashgaria--Russia occupies Kuldja--Engaging to evacuate when country settled--Tso Tsung-tang's march--Death of Yakub-beg--China reoccupies Kashgaria--Calls upon Russia to retire from Kuldja--Relations become strained--Chunghou concludes treaty with Russia--Violently repudiated by empress--War threatened--Gordon summoned--Dispute arranged by Marquis Tsêng.

The dilatoriness of China in making a stand against Japanese pretensions in Korea may be partly explained by her serious preoccupations elsewhere. She had been immersed in a sea of troubles. She seemed to be enveloped in rebellion. In the south-west the province of Yunnan had been severed from the imperial rule, and in its recovery the land was almost depopulated. In the north-west there were also Mohammedan risings, and in far-distant Kashgaria, separated from China by a thousand miles of desert and militarily untenable by her, the adventurer known as Yakub-beg set up an independent government, which he maintained for some years. Anarchy on her frontier afforded to Russia the pretext of occupying Chinese territory to maintain order; but she was scrupulous in assuring the Peking Government that this step was provisional, and that she was ready to restore Kuldja as soon as the Chinese were again in a position to resume the government of the town and territory. The time came sooner than was expected. The famous march of Tso Tsung-tang, who halted to grow grain for the support of his army, and the disaffection in his camp leading to the demise of Yakub, enabled China to reoccupy the revolted districts. Russia, on being asked to redeem her pledge as to Kuldja, made conditions which were not acceptable, and a diplomatic campaign was entered upon. A high Manchu official, Chunghou, the same who had been sent to France in 1871, was despatched to Prussia, where he concluded the treaty of Livadia, which was so repugnant to the empress-regent and her advisers that not only was it repudiated at Peking, but the envoy was delivered to the Board of Punishments. Relations became strained between Russia and China, and on both sides there were hints of a resort to force. In view of this eventuality the Chinese Government were recommended to apply for the services of their old champion, Gordon, who, unknown to them, had taken service with Lord Ripon, the then new Viceroy of India, and, equally unknown to them, had precipitately resigned that service. The Chinese had a large body of troops in Manchuria; the long line of Russian communication was very weak along that frontier; the governor of Eastern Siberia, declaring himself unable to resist a Chinese attack, had urged the Government at St Petersburg to come to terms at once with China, and wait for a suitable opportunity to recover what they might be obliged to cede. The Chinese Government hoped that if Gordon would come to their assistance, and take command of their Manchurian levies, his name would be a host in itself, and his appearance on the scene would at any rate convince the Russian Government that China was in earnest. With this view an invitation was sent to General Gordon in a telegram from Sir Robert Hart, which found him in Bombay. The invitation was unconditional; it indicated no purpose and named no price. Gordon took it entirely on trust, closed at once, and proceeded to China. Having been given no clue as to what service was expected from him, Gordon, nevertheless, not only came to a conclusion of his own on the subject, but supplied his views to the newspapers before leaving India, and at every port of call on the route. He declared he was going to China to induce her to make peace, for she was unable to do otherwise. In this he was of an opposite opinion from the Russian governor-general. But whatever the merit of his opinion, the object of the Chinese in sending for him was of course frustrated by his published declarations. These being communicated to the Government at Peking, they saw that so far from stiffening them in their negotiations with Russia, Gordon's presence would seriously embarrass them, and they accordingly endeavoured to prevent his coming. Through Sir Robert Hart they sent a message to meet Gordon at Chefoo, requesting him to proceed no farther. Disregarding this request, he continued his journey to Tientsin, where he had interviews with his old friend the Viceroy Li; and he also made his way to Peking, where by the aid of an indifferent Cantonese interpreter he made representations to the Tsungli-Yamên, some of which the interpreter dared not reproduce in Chinese. Gordon left without seeing either Sir Robert Hart, on whose authority alone he had come to China, or the British Minister, Sir Thomas Wade. The advice he left with the Chinese Ministers was to renounce the endeavour to organise an army on Western models, and not to waste money on modern weapons, but to trust rather to numbers and the Fabian strategy which was natural to them. This being promptly published in foreign journals, was regarded as highly paradoxical, if not cynical; but it was recalled to mind fifteen years later, when China was being defeated in the pitched battles against which Gordon had warned them.

The Kuldja dispute was eventually disposed of by the Chinese Minister, Marquis Tsêng, who negotiated a treaty at St Petersburg, by which the territory was nominally receded to China, while its strategical positions were retained in the occupation of Russia, thus rendering the whole region untenable by Chinese troops.

II. KOREAN IMBROGLIO, 1882-1885.

Outbreak in 1882--Conspiracy of the king's father--Attack on Japanese legation--Chinese troops control the capital--Foreign innovations--Brought bad elements to the surface--Conspiracy in 1884--Assassinations--Treachery of king's confidant--Kim Ok Kun's escape to Japan--The avenger--His elaborate preparations--Assassination of Kim--Joy in the Korean Court--Honours to the assassin--Japan dissatisfied--Count Ito's mission--Japan secures equal rights with China in Korea.

The Russian question settled, China had leisure to attend to Korean affairs, of which the importance was becoming more and more clear to her statesmen. The scare on the north-west was in another form transferred to the north-east, where there was the double risk of complications arising from both Russian and Japanese encroachment on Korea. The opening of the country to foreign intercourse, intended as a protection against such dangers, was soon discovered to be inadequate. A procession of events, dating from the signing of the treaties and culminating in 1885, transformed the kingdom from a vassal to a quasi-independent State.

The first link in the chain, so far as visible effects were concerned, was an _émeute_ which took place in Söul in 1882. The father of the king had occupied a position as regent curiously resembling that of the Empress-Dowager of China, and being ambitious to regain the authority which he had laid down on the king's coming of age, raised a conspiracy to depose him. In connection with the plot a mob was let loose on the Japanese legation, where a desperate struggle ensued, in which, and in the running fight which they made towards the seaport, a number of Japanese were killed. The survivors were conveyed to Nagasaki in a British ship-of-war. What provocation the Japanese had given for this savage onslaught is not a matter on which we need enter. The point is that it afforded justification for sharp reprisals. Perceiving this, and being in a position of unaccustomed preparedness, the Chinese Government--that is to say, Li Hung-chang--adopted prompt measures for anticipating action on the part of the Japanese. They despatched an envoy with a body of troops and a naval squadron to the seaport of the capital where they at once put down the conspiracy, re-established the king's authority, and by a clever but wonderfully common oriental ruse captured the Usurper, and carried him off to China as a State prisoner. The Chinese troops remained in the vicinity of the capital, and a Resident on the Indian pattern was installed at the Korean Court.

Before long a foreign element began to be introduced into the Korean administration. Among other things a branch of the Chinese customs service was established, and, as in China, many duties besides that of raising a revenue soon claimed the attention of the foreign commissioner. No more effective first step in the regeneration of such a country could have been undertaken than an honest administration of its maritime revenue. It was a measure both good in itself and prolific of beneficial results in many directions. Other reforms, however, were projected which required a certain preparation of the soil and a careful consideration of social forces and conditions. The introduction of foreign ideas of any kind into a country which, so far as politics were concerned, might be considered virgin soil, was, to say the least, a hazardous experiment. Undigested schemes for the Europeanisation or the Japonisation of a Government which had up till then banished foreign intercourse entirely from its shores was likely to have an effect analogous to that of suddenly administering strong meat to the victim of protracted privation. Korean affairs were even less understood by foreigners than Western affairs were by the Koreans, so that the yeast thrown into the Korean dough produced risings for which Western foreigners at least, whatever may be said of the Japanese, were quite unprepared. Factions sprang up like fungoid growths in an excavation, sordid ambitions were set in motion, and the royal Court became a hotbed of intrigue towards which the most flagitious elements in the capital were naturally drawn.

The agitation which was fed from these various sources broke out into open violence in 1884, when two of the king's Ministers were assassinated by a band of conspirators. It would be futile to attempt to unravel the plot; its visible consequences only need be considered as further links in the chain of events, and also as affording some curious evidence of the manner in which the new alien civilisation was beginning to adapt itself to that which was ingrained in the Korean character. The professed object of the plot was understood to be the severance of the Chinese tie through the instrumentality of the Japanese, and the king himself was believed to be privy to this scheme. It is probable that the high political and patriotic ideal was but the rallying flag under which diverse schemers might pursue their several ambitions. The Koreans are credited with a special dose of the subtlety which belongs to Asiatic races, and whatever the real intentions of the king may have been, the conspirators were false to him. A concise contemporary account of the fray given in a message to the 'Times' states that--

The rising against the King of Korea is the outcome of reactionary intrigues similar to the movement in 1882, when the present king's father was captured and taken as a State prisoner to China. Defective accounts only have been received of the recent events. On the night of December 4, during an entertainment, there was an alarm of fire near the palace; Min chong ik, the queen's nephew, who was recently travelling in Europe, rushed out, met some assassins, and was stabbed, with many others. The conspirators then attacked the king, who applied to the Japanese Minister for the protection of his guard. Before morning six of the Ministers were killed. On the 6th the Koreans again attacked the palace, the Chinese troops being present. A fight ensued, and the Japanese guard lost three men killed and five wounded. Being overpowered, the Japanese abandoned the palace, retiring to the Japanese Legation, the king being carried off by the Chinese. The tumult increased, and thirty Japanese residents were massacred by the Chinese. On the 7th the Korean mob attacked the Japanese Legation, which was destroyed, and the Minister with his guard forced his way out amid showers of missiles. They stormed the gates and retreated to the seaport of Chemulpo. On the following day the king sent friendly messages to the Japanese Minister.

At a recent date the Chinese garrison consisted nominally of 3000 men, but the force has been much depleted. The Japanese numbered 120, and these were about to be withdrawn when the outbreak occurred. The situation is critical, each side accusing the other of aggression; but it is expected that the affair will be settled amicably, neither Power desiring a quarrel for the benefit of interested spectators. The Japanese may insist on steps being taken to secure their Minister for the future from such outrages. Each Power has appointed an officer to investigate the facts before deciding on a definite course. Further complications are, however, certain to arise from the anomalous position of Korea. After the Kuldja scare China perceived the supreme strategic importance of the peninsula, and that a great Power occupying it would control Chinese external policy. The Government promoted the foreign treaties in 1882 with the objects of interesting the commercial Powers in the integrity of Korea, and of obtaining a recognition of its vassalage. Later treaties, beginning with that negotiated by Sir Harry Parkes last year, assumed the independence of Korea. The exercise of Chinese sovereignty is exposing Korea to the double peril of her own troubles and of China's possible wavering at a critical moment. The Chinese and Korean interests are, in the absence of commerce, purely political, Korea's importance consisting in its commanding position.

And the Japanese shortly after tabulated the casualties as follows:--

Seven officials killed by progressives, 7 progressives killed by Korean troops, 38 Korean soldiers killed by Japanese troops, 95 rioters killed by Japanese, 67 progressives imprisoned, 11 beheaded, with shocking barbarities at execution.

The immediate purpose of the leaders of the plot appears to have been to destroy the influence of the powerful family to which the queen belonged, and had they contented themselves with the murder of any number of that family, it was not considered likely that either king or people would have greatly deplored the crime. But the chief assassin, Kim Ok Kun, struck at the two Ministers who were the king's right hand, and who had, moreover, endeared themselves to the nation by the exceptional purity of their public life and their beneficence in times of scarcity. Execrated alike by the sovereign and his people, Kim Ok Kun sought an asylum in Japan, where he was entertained for a number of years while engaged in hatching further plots against the peace of his native land.

Naturally his presence in Japan caused umbrage to China. The King of Korea lived in terror of his machinations, for Kim had a considerable following, by whose aid he hoped to make a descent on Korea and effect a revolution in the government. The guilt of Kim Ok Kun's betrayal of his sovereign was the more heinous from his having been confidential adviser to the Crown during all the negotiations with foreigners, between whom and the king he was the constant referee. He carried into exile the innermost royal secrets. The king's resentment against Kim was naturally embittered by his impotence to avenge the treachery to which he had been a victim.

For the preservation of peace and of friendly relations an agreement was entered into between the three Governments to the effect that Kim should not be permitted to leave Japan for any other country excepting China or the United States. On these conditions the refugee became an embarrassment to the Government of Japan, which felt bound to protect him against counterplots while preventing him from carrying out his seditious designs. Nevertheless Nemesis was on the track of the assassin, and the way in which the quarry was hunted down by the avenger of blood affords a greater insight into the nature of the tragedy than do any of the contemporary comments. It also serves to illustrate certain points in the Korean character which are decidedly not without interest to students of current history.

A member of an important Korean family named Hong had been implicated in Kim's conspiracy, and by Korean law his whole family were held guilty of the treason. The king fully exonerated the head of the family, being convinced that no blame attached to him personally. Nevertheless, the old man was so dejected by the disgrace brought on his name, that he forthwith poisoned himself with his whole house. A young man distantly connected with the family of Hong, and bearing their surname, took upon himself the duty of avenging these deaths, and set to work in a systematic manner to compass the murder of Kim. The private vengeance of Hong-tjyong-on fitted in well with his patriotic duty, and his scheme was favoured by the Korean king. About three years after Kim's flight, Hong made his way to Japan, bearing secret letters from the king outlawing Kim and his followers and authorising their capture or assassination. Hong's plan was to ingratiate himself with Kim as a supporter of his schemes, but his recent arrival direct from Korea without any credentials from the revolutionary party in that country rendered Kim suspicious of the would-be recruit. Unable to gain the access which he required to the person of his victim, Hong saw that he would have to adopt more elaborate means to effect his purpose. He went therefore to Europe, where he must have spent five or six years at least in acquiring a European education, European manners, and a perfect knowledge of European ways. He was courteous, refined, and intelligent, a great favourite in society (especially in religious circles), and made in particular many warm friends in France. Having thoroughly shaken off Korea, he thought he might now present himself in Japan in a character that would disarm all suspicion. Accordingly he made his way thither, and succeeded in attaching himself to Kim, talked progress and revolution, and thereby insinuated himself into the confidence of the arch-conspirator, becoming gradually master of his secret plots and schemes. The arrangements of the Japanese Government for the protection of Kim's person seem to have been so efficient that, in order to accomplish his purpose, Hong perceived that it was necessary to induce Kim to leave Japan. This seemed the most difficult part of his enterprise, and a far-fetched scheme had to be contrived in order to furnish Kim with a plausible reason for proceeding to China. Between the plots which Kim may have had in his mind and those which Hong for his own purposes suggested to him, it is not possible, neither is it necessary, to distinguish. Hong's own account of the matter was, that Kim had been concerting some movement on Korea from a Russian base, but was prevented from proceeding to Vladivostock by the vigilance of the Japanese Government. The agreement between the three Powers would not, however, be violated by his proceeding to Shanghai, where he would find the means of continuing his voyage to Vladivostock, for neither of the travellers apprehended any difficulty in eluding the surveillance of the Chinese officials and taking passage in a trading steamer to the Russian port.

Kim eventually fell in with this proposal, and left Japan with a Japanese servant, accompanied by Hong. They arrived in Shanghai on the 27th of March 1894, repaired to a Japanese hotel, and reported themselves at the Japanese consulate. The following day Hong, having first put on Korean upper garments, murdered Kim, and fled, but was captured at Wusung by the foreign municipal police of Shanghai, and by them detained in custody until claimed by the Chinese authorities under instructions from Li Hung-chang. The news of the assassination was received by the Chinese Government with a sense of relief and "sombre acquiescence," but at the Korean Court with almost a frenzy of delight. The king gave a banquet in honour of the event, to which he invited all the foreign Ministers. The Chinese Government ordered a man-of-war to convey the murderer and the remains of the victim to Korea. The former was covered with honours, while the remains of Kim were treated with savage indecency and his family put to death.

Thus did the assassin of 1884 expiate his crime exactly ten years later.

The issue of the plot of 1884 was not agreeable to the Japanese, who were particularly affronted by the fact that the Chinese were in a position to snatch the king out of their hands and to afford him military protection against all comers. But Japan was in no humour to relinquish her own policy in Korea, which was quite incompatible with the suzerain status of China, and with the very concrete form in which it had just been manifested. One of the leading statesmen of Japan, Count Inouye, was sent to Korea to investigate the whole affair, and inquire into the relative position of China and Japan in the peninsula. The result of his inquiries was a determination to follow up by orthodox diplomacy the disintegrating effects which the risings in 1882 and 1884 had no doubt been intended to subserve. China being in the throes of a war with France, the moment was particularly favourable for preferring demands upon her. An embassy was therefore despatched to Peking, under Count Ito, in March 1885. He counted much on the friendly offices of the British Minister, Sir Harry Parkes, in smoothing the way to amicable negotiations with China, but unhappily the Japanese ambassador arrived at Peking almost on the day of Sir Harry's death. After vain attempts to deal with the Tsungli-Yamên the Japanese mission withdrew to Tientsin, where negotiations were entered into by Li Hung-chang, extending over several weeks. Count Ito's mission was successful in concluding a treaty by which China and Japan were put on a footing of equality in the peninsula so far as regards military protection. The troops of both countries were to be withdrawn, and neither party was to send a force in future without giving written notice to the other. This arrangement was a surrender in substance of China's suzerainty over Korea, though she retained the ceremonial form in full vigour for nine years after.

III. THE PORT HAMILTON EPISODE, 1885-1887.

Sudden occupation of Korean harbour by Great Britain--Questioned by China, Japan, and Korea--Position condemned by naval authority--Abandoned on guarantee from China against occupation by other Powers.

"In view of potentialities" the British Government on April 14, 1885, sent instructions to Vice-Admiral Dowell to occupy Port Hamilton, an island harbour on the coast of Korea. This high-handed proceeding was justified on the plea of necessity--the necessity, as explained by Lord Granville, of anticipating the "probable occupation of the island by another Power." Naturally the measure disturbed neighbouring States, as well as the Government of Korea itself. China and Japan asked for explanations, and an agreement with the former, as suzerain of Korea, was about to be signed for the temporary use of the harbour by Great Britain, when the Russian Minister at Peking interposed with an intimation that if China consented to the occupation of Port Hamilton by Great Britain, Russia would compensate herself by the seizure of some other point of the Korean littoral. The protest of the Korean Government thus became merged in negotiations with China, but was never withdrawn.

While these _pour-parlers_ were going on, the position of Port Hamilton was unequivocally condemned as a naval station by a succession of three admirals commanding the China Squadron; and as the immediate occasion of the occupation of the harbour had happily passed, there remained no ostensible reason for prolonging it. Before abandoning the island, however, the British Government hoped that some arrangement might be come to for an international guarantee of the integrity of Korea, which being already a bone of contention between certain Powers, and unable to defend its own independence, constituted a constant menace to the peace of the Far East. The proposal met with no favour from the Chinese Government, for the reason probably that it would have involved an organic change in its own relations with Korea. The next proposal came from the Korean Government itself, which suggested a _modus vivendi_ by opening as treaty ports both Port Hamilton and Port Lazareff, which latter was the point Russia would have seized if she had seized anything. This idea was approved of by the British Government, but nothing came of it. Eventually the evacuation was agreed to on the assurance from China that neither Port Hamilton nor any other portion of Korean territory would in future be occupied by any other Power. This pledge China was enabled to give on the strength of an equivalent guarantee which she had received from Russia, that Power being then the only one considered as likely to cherish aggressive designs on the Korean peninsula. These engagements were exchanged in November 1886, eighteen months after the occupation, and the British flag was finally hauled down on the island on February 27, 1887.

The net visible result of the incident was to confirm China in her suzerainty, since the negotiations were made with her and not with Korea, and to obtain a specific pledge from Russia that she would keep her hands off Korea "under any circumstances." It was argued seven years afterwards that Russia had broken her pledge by her interferences in Korean affairs, but in 1895 a new state of circumstances had been brought about. China in that year ceased to be the suzerain of Korea, and obligations which were valid under the old _régime_ necessarily lapsed. A new page of history was turned, and Korea attained the status of a nominally independent kingdom.

IV. TIBET.

Lhassa visited by Babu Sarat Chandra Das--Proposed commercial expedition--Originated by Secretary of State--Envoy sent to Peking to obtain passport--Opposition organised by Chinese and Tibetans--Mission withdrawn.

The year 1885 witnessed the first act in the ill-advised policy--as to its method, not its object--of the Indian Government of opening commercial relations with Tibet. A learned Bengali pandit, versed in Tibetan, had made two successful visits to Lhassa, where he gained the friendship of the lamas, who invited him to come again. A fair prospect of opening commercial relations by gradually disarming prejudices and apprehension was thus presented. Having duly reported his experiences to the Government of India, the babu waited their pleasure as to further developments at Darjeeling, where he occupied the post of Government schoolmaster. An English civilian, making the acquaintance of the babu in that hot-weather retreat, conceived the idea of an official mission to Lhassa, in which the services of the babu might be utilised as guide and interpreter. The Indian Government was averse from the enterprise on economical if on no other grounds, but direct pressure being brought to bear on the India Office in London, the ambitious young statesman who then presided over its counsels is said to have espoused the proposal and overruled the reluctant Government of India.

Of the organisation and procedure of the mission nothing very complimentary can be said. Instead of following the line of least resistance, of driving in the thin end of the wedge, in accordance with the commonplace maxims consecrated by all human experience, the reverse process was followed in every single particular. Sarat Chandra Das had shown the way, and the entry he had effected could have been gradually widened by himself and others of his own class until the obstacles to free commercial intercourse had been overcome. The experience of a hundred years had shown to the world the invincible prejudices of the Tibetan rulers against foreign visitors. The babu had in his own person conquered these prejudices by his mastery of Buddhistic lore, as well as by his gentleness and consummate tact; but the mission, which had its origin in the information he supplied, discarded his methods and proceeded on military lines. Its _personnel_ included politicals and scientists, but no commercial agent, and as Mr Gundry has well said, "The Under Secretary of State, while stating that the object of the mission was to confer with the Chinese commissioners and the Lhassa Government as to the resumption of commercial relations between India and Tibet," added in Parliament that, "looking to the delicate nature of the mission, it had not been thought advisable to appoint a special commercial representative." An armed force of some 300 men sent on a "delicate mission" which, though essentially commercial, yet had nothing commercial in its composition! Could anything be conceived more certain to arouse the sleeping suspicions of the Tibetans? It was but repeating on a larger scale the deplorable fiasco of Colonel Browne's attempted march from Burma to China in 1875.

The first act in this little drama was performed in Peking when the envoy, Macaulay, arrived with his staff for the ostensible purpose of applying for a passport for Tibet. For such a purpose there was no need to have sent a special messenger to Peking at all, as a passport could have been much more easily obtained by the British Minister there and transmitted by post in the ordinary course of business. The passport could not, of course, be refused in plain terms by the Chinese Government, but the personal demand for it gave them the opportunity of cross-examining the intended envoy as to the objects of his proposed mission. It may well be believed, from the self-contradictory explanation of the mission tendered to the British Parliament, that the envoy in Peking failed to allay the suspicions of the Chinese Government. On the contrary, his presence intensified them exceedingly. The sole effect of the preliminary expedition to Peking was, in fact, to forewarn the Chinese Government, so that they, in concert with the rulers of Tibet, should be prepared to interpose obstacles to the advance of the mission, but in such a way as not openly to compromise the good faith of the Chinese Government. The journey of the envoy to Peking, therefore, sealed the fate of his own mission, and at the same time closed Tibet against more judicious advances in the future.

The most interesting episode in connection with this abortive effort was the appearance of the Babu Sarat Chandra Das himself in the Chinese capital. By sheer force of intellect he succeeded in a few days in obtaining the confidence of the inner circle of the lamas there. Having been brought in contact with a certain Manchu official, the pandit showed very unobtrusively a familiarity with the more recondite tenets of Buddhism which captivated the Manchu, whose heart was set on improving his knowledge of the sacred mysteries.[24] The babu could speak no Chinese, but it was not difficult among the thousands of lamas in Peking to find a competent Tibetan interpreter. The fame of the pandit spread rapidly among the ranks of the priesthood, whose chiefs competed for the honour of sitting at the feet of the Indian Gamaliel. In expounding the doctrines, while enjoying the hospitality, of different groups of lamas, the popularity of the pandit grew from day to day, until he was at length constrained to take up his quarters at the great Yellow Temple, outside the north wall of Peking, and live with the brethren. They invested him with the yellow robe and the other ecclesiastical insignia, and treated him altogether as one of the initiated. It required all his acumen to prevent his status as a Buddhist lama from clashing with his position as a subordinate of the Indian envoy, on whom he was in attendance. He had to pay frequent visits to the British Legation, where it would have been impossible for him to appear in his religious vestments without exciting inconvenient gossip, and perhaps incurring the disapproval of his superior officer. The custom of travelling in Peking in closed carts enabled the babu to play the double part of Jekyll and Hyde with perfect success. He would leave the Temple as a lama, drive to a friend's rooms in the city, where his Indian costume was kept ready, in which he proceeded in another cab and in another character to the British Legation, returning to reassume his yellow robes and then repair to the Temple.

During the time when the envoy designate remained in Peking a very high personage arrived from Tibet, and it was on his conferences with the Chinese Court that the success of the intended mission depended. It would be presumptuous on the part of any foreigner to attempt to divine what passed between the delegate from the Grand Lama and the Chinese Ministers; but were it possible for any one to penetrate into those secret counsels, the babu was the man to do it. There is no doubt that he did. In fact, he had positive information that the Indian mission to Tibet would be stopped at the instance of the Chinese Government, and that the issue of the passport was an empty form. Such information would naturally be unwelcome to the envoy, and the sequel seems to show that the warning was disregarded. The expedition was organised, fully equipped, ready for a march into Tibet. Had it proceeded it is highly improbable that the babu would have accompanied it as interpreter, for he could not have exonerated himself from the imputation of bad faith towards his Tibetan hosts in acting as guide to an armed force into a country where he had been received and reinvited as a private guest.

What would have been the consequence of the mission proceeding into Tibet it is, of course, impossible to say, but the circumstances of its recall were not conducive to satisfactory relations between China and Great Britain. Mistrusting the effectiveness of the Tibetan opposition to the Indian mission--for the force could very likely have made good its passage to Lhassa--the Chinese Government resorted to diplomatic means of stopping its advance. Its never-failing emergency man, the Inspector-General of Customs, was called upon, and he intervened with the British Government with such good effect that they sent orders to India to stop the Tibetan mission. Thus the Indian Government was a second time overruled: first, in being made to organise the mission against its will; and secondly, in being forced to recall it when its recall involved immeasurable loss of influence in future dealings with China. An attempt was made to cover the retreat in a cloud of verbiage by a convention signed at Peking in 1886, which, however, only made the case worse, in that it was a retrograde step, virtually cancelling the right of visiting Tibet, which had been conferred by the Chefoo convention of ten years before. The same treaty which embodied this renunciation, perhaps the weakest to which any British representative ever set his name, also fostered the illusions which have been so detrimental to the welfare of China, by promising a continuance of the tribute missions from Burma after that country had become an integral part of the Indian Empire.

The fruits of this diplomatic surrender were not long in showing themselves, for it was soon followed by an invasion of British Sikkim from the Tibetan side. This aggression of the lamas was of necessity resisted by the Indian Government, and an unexpected opportunity was thus offered to them of settling the whole Tibetan question by the rapid march of a small force to Lhassa. There is good reason to believe that this solution of the difficulty was the one which commended itself to the practical statesmen and soldiers of India; but their action was paralysed by the orders of the Home Government, which continued to be ruled by influences which were neither military nor political nor practical. Discussions between the Indian Government and the Chinese _amban_ or Resident at Lhassa, professing to speak for the Tibetan Lama Government, were protracted year after year, and seemed interminable. At last even the Chinese themselves grew weary of the comedy, and experienced in Tibet something of the difficulty which occasionally beset them in China--that is to say, they were unable to exorcise the demon they had invoked. They had stirred up the Tibetans to the point of obstructing the Macaulay mission, but seemed really to lose control of the force after it had been set in motion. After some years of futile talk the statesmen of China would perhaps have hailed with satisfaction the advance of a British force to Lhassa to cut the Gordian knot; but they dared not, of course, give such a hint as was conveyed to Captain Fournier, "Avancez donc,"[25] and the Indian Government, not having the wit to divine it, had to submit to a long-drawn-out and permanent humiliation, that was in no wise mended by the Calcutta convention of 1890, which, professing only to settle the existing frontiers, did not even settle them.

V. THE CRUISE OF THE SEVENTH PRINCE, 1886.

Character and position of Prince Ch'un--Had been misunderstood by foreigners while he was in seclusion--An amiable and progressive man--His visit to Port Arthur in 1886--Intercourse with many foreigners.

The spring of 1884 witnessed a ministerial crisis of the first order in Peking. For twenty-four years Prince Kung, uncle to the deceased emperor Tungchih, had held a position equivalent to Chancellor of the empire. To the outside world he was only known as Minister for Foreign Affairs and head of the Tsungli-Yamên. During the greater part of the time he had been at feud with the empress-regent, from whom his power was derived, but, being indispensable to her, he was tolerated for want of a competent successor. The troubles in Tongking caused an agitation in the capital, and the empress seized the opportunity to dismiss Prince Kung with most of his colleagues of the Yamên and introduce a fresh set. The eminent position of the prince, however, was one difficult to fill; but the substitution was effected by a kind of _coup d'état_ by which the empress brought the younger brother of Prince Kung out of his retirement and made him virtually, as far as it was possible, her coadjutor in the Government. But the peculiar status of Prince Ch'un, as father to the reigning emperor, rendered him immune from responsibility, since in China the son could not place the father under discipline. For this reason the prince could not in his own name exercise any of the great functions of the State. He was therefore obliged to keep in the background, while the executive service was performed by his nominees. Thus in foreign affairs he was efficiently represented by the Grand Secretary Li Hung-chang, and by Prince Ch'ing, a junior member of the imperial family, who was made president of the Tsungli-Yamên, and holds the office to the present day.

Whatever the true motives may have been for recasting the Tsungli-Yamên--and it would be hazardous for any foreigner to dogmatise about such matters--a great improvement was remarked in the efficiency of that body. Prince Ch'ing, though new to public affairs, acquitted himself like a gentleman, and gained the goodwill of all the foreign Legations by his laborious efforts to learn his work and to bring justice and reason as well as courtesy into the transaction of business. The circumstances of the time were also favourable to improvement; for being at war with one great Power, China was naturally most anxious to conciliate the others. While this amenable temper lasted, business was despatched by the Tsungli-Yamên with a celerity never before known, and good use was made of the opportunity to clear off legacies of arrears that had been accumulating in the foreign legations.

The Seventh Prince, so long as he was in seclusion, had stood in the opinion of foreigners for everything that was fanatical, obstructive, and irreconcilable, the head of the war party, and so forth. Even Sir Rutherford Alcock, in an article on Chinese Statesmen in 1871, adopted this popular estimate, calling him "violently hostile, joining with Wo in all efforts to make the anti-foreign faction predominate."

The announcement of Prince Ch'un, therefore, as the successor of Prince Kung not unnaturally aroused apprehension of a reactionary policy. His first public act, however, in so far as it was his, dispelled the misconception under which foreigners had been labouring for many years: it was to conclude a peace with France in the face of a rabid opposition. This misconception of Prince Ch'un's character and policy is only an example of how vain it is for foreigners to attempt to sound the currents of Chinese politics, more especially where palace factions are concerned.

The advent of the Seventh Prince having removed all friction between the empress-regent and the Government, it was a signal for tentative reforms and what foreigners call progress. Li Hung-chang had to a considerable extent imbued the Court with his own ideas. He assured them there was no danger in adopting foreign methods and foreign manners,--on the contrary, that to do so was the only means of safety to the empire. Within a few months of his taking the reins, the Prince established a precedent which amounted to a small revolution in its way. He began to transact business through his agents with foreigners in the capital itself, which had been up to that time strictly preserved from all contamination of foreign trade. The two "stores" which existed were not traders by right, but were under the special protection of certain foreign Ministers, who had represented to the Government the necessity of such agencies for the supply of necessaries for the use of their Legations. This was followed in course of time by the introduction of novelties in the palace, such as electric light, toy railways and steam launches in the imperial pleasure-grounds. The telegraph wire itself was introduced into the city during the summer of 1884, it having been previously jealously kept at a distance of thirteen miles, from superstitious fears concerning the sinister influence which the electric wire might exert over the fortunes of the capital. However real such fears may be in the minds of the Chinese, and however convenient they may be as a defence against proposals from without, they invariably yield to the pressure of necessity. While the terminus of the telegraph line was at Tungchow, the inconvenience of having to send mounted messengers thirteen miles to despatch and receive messages was for some time felt almost entirely by the foreign Legations; but when the war crisis with France arose, and the Chinese Government itself was sending urgent messages requiring immediate answers to the southern provinces and to Europe, the absurdity of losing more time between the Tsungli-Yamên and the telegraph station than was occupied by the transmission of the message and its reply from Europe became so striking, that the order was given to bring the telegraph into the city. No more was heard of geomantic difficulties.

The most important object, however, which Li Hung-chang sought to gain through the activity of the Seventh Prince, was so to interest his Highness in the scheme of national defence, which had been growing under the viceroy's initiative, that this department of the work of Government should be transformed from a provincial to an imperial concern. With this end in view an expedition on salt water was arranged for the Prince; and insignificant as the feat must appear in Western eyes, yet for a Manchu prince, who had never seen the sea, to be allowed to trust himself on the treacherous element at all, or on such a strange monster as a steamer, must be accepted as a decided proof that the old order was changing, giving place to the new. The prince was undoubtedly nervous, not knowing what should befall him on his expedition.

The first ordeal through which he had to pass was that of personal contact with foreigners, of whom he had perhaps never seen one in Peking. His introduction was carefully organised by Li Hung-chang, and it was at Tientsin that the prince first met with foreign officials, who waited upon him at separate audiences. The foreigners were as much charmed with his Highness as he expressed himself to have been with them, so that he embarked on his cruise free from anxiety. His attendants, however,--on whom and on Li Hung-chang all the responsibility of course rested,--continued to feel anxious during their passage across the Gulf. This feeling became for a moment acute when, on landing at Port Arthur, they were met by a British admiral and staff with a guard of honour. It is an actual fact that the sight of strange armed men waiting for the prince, working on oriental traditions, did suggest a trap, for the idea of capture by treachery is never wholly absent from the Chinese mind. The Government had taken the wise precaution of attaching to the prince an experienced and capable foreigner in whom he reposed perfect confidence, and Mr Detring explained foreign customs and forms of courtesy to the prince and his suite in a way which completely reassured them. Among all the dignitaries in the prince's suite, however, there was not one capable of taking in the entirely novel ideas which were presented to them. One man only, of quite subordinate rank--whether a Manchu or a Chinese by birth is unknown to the writer--a confidential agent of the Seventh Prince in business matters, seized the entire programme of foreign etiquette the moment it was explained to him, and through him the whole ceremony passed smoothly and agreeably to all parties. The name of this official was Chang Yi, who has since been taking a leading part in mining, railway, and other progressive enterprises in China.

On his return to Peking Prince Ch'un in a memorial to the Throne reported fully the incidents of his cruise to the gulf ports. Not long after a naval board was established in Peking, with the prince at its head. As a step in the direction of centralising the naval authority, which included also the direction of the land defences, the establishment of a Board of Admiralty in the capital was certainly a progressive one; but as its members possessed neither knowledge nor experience of naval or military affairs its authority was much attenuated, almost every question having to be referred back to Li Hung-chang in Tientsin. Any chance that might have existed of Prince Ch'un himself inspiring the new Board and bringing it up to a state of efficiency was lost through his Highness falling into ill-health, from which he never recovered, but after a lingering illness died in 1890.

VI. THE EMPEROR ASSUMES THE GOVERNMENT, 1889.

The Emperor Kwanghsu comes of age in 1889--Audience of foreign Ministers arranged--Derogatory conditions--Second audience refused by Ministers--Accepted by Austrian and British envoys.

In 1889 his Majesty Kwanghsu attained his majority and married. But his coming of age was a somewhat gradual process, with intervals between each step, as if the empress-regent, who alone determined the time and the seasons, were either mistrustful of the capacity of her nephew or reluctant to lay down the reins of authority. The emperor, kept in leading-strings, was allowed to assume some of the functions of an autocrat, but not all. This slow unfolding of the imperial blossom had this result among others, that it procured a welcome respite from the bitter ordeal of granting an audience to the representatives of foreign States. It was well understood that the foreigners had for sixteen years been looking forward to the emperor's assumption of power as to the consummation of their diplomatic function, and that as soon as a decent interval had been allowed to the young monarch after his majority, the subject would become pressing.

It had been discussed in whispers for nearly two years, when, to the astonishment of everybody, including even the members of the Tsungli-Yamên themselves, an imperial decree was issued in December 1890 in kindly terms ordering preparations to be made to receive the foreign Ministers after the Chinese New Year--that is, in the February following. Since nobody owned to having been in the secret, the act was set down to the emperor's gracious initiative, and was hailed with enthusiasm as the opening of a new era. The Great Wall had at last fallen; the pretensions to superiority for which the Chinese had made such great sacrifices were suddenly abandoned, and henceforth equality with foreign nations was to be the basis of their diplomatic intercourse.

The hope was shortlived, for as soon as the details of the imperial reception came to be arranged with the Tsungli-Yamên all the old difficulties appeared in an aggravated form. The foreign ministers, having pondered the question for eighteen years, had unanimously resolved that they would not accept an audience in the building used for the reception of tributary princes, where the ceremony of 1873 had taken place, but only in the imperial palace, or not at all. The whole value of the audience was the acknowledgment it signified of international equality. The idea that it would facilitate business must have been long before abandoned. The form, therefore, was everything, and the Chinese Ministers were resolved that the "tributary" form should be adhered to. They became urgent in their appeals to the reasonableness of the foreign Ministers. They had gone to expense in renovating the hall, Tz-kwang-ko; they had no other place available; the imperial decree must be obeyed, and this admitted of no postponement.

Yielding to these arguments, the foreign Ministers agreed to a compromise. They would, for this time only, repair to the Tz-kwang-ko, but never again. The ceremony took place therefore on 5th March 1891. There were two receptions--first an audience to the various foreign Ministers separately, next a general reception of the whole of them. The diplomatic body soon felt the consequences of their retrograde step, for when they came to discuss details of the audience of the following year, the Chinese interposed a simple _non possumus_ to every demand which implied the acknowledgment of equality. A reception within the palace without the _kotow_ could not even be discussed. No accommodation between the opposing views being possible, there was no audience in 1892. The diplomatic body were solidly united in maintaining the dignity of their respective countries, and by ceasing to solicit, they left the onus of discovering a solution of the question on the Chinese themselves. The audience was of no practical value to the foreigners, while the withholding of it placed the Chinese so much in the wrong that they might safely have been left to their own devices.

Before, however, the pressure to extricate themselves and their sovereign from an untenable position had become too severe, a diversion in their favour was created by the flying visit of an Austrian envoy, who seemed ready to present his credentials on any terms whatever, so that the formalities were quickly got over, and he enabled to conclude his mission. The Chinese availed themselves of this unexpected opportunity, and the emperor granted an audience to M. Biegeleben in another hall or pavilion outside the palace, which thenceforth became known locally as the Palais Biegeleben.

At the end of 1892, not long after the Biegeleben incident, a new British Minister arrived in Peking. Not apparently considering himself bound by the compact to which his predecessor was a party, he, without the knowledge of his diplomatic colleagues, accepted an audience on the same derogatory terms as the Austrian envoy had done, and the reactionary policy of the Chinese thus enjoyed a complete, if temporary, triumph. This proceeding of the British Minister was deeply resented by the diplomatic body, most of all by the Russian Minister, Count Cassini, himself a new arrival, and the circumstance did not tend to smooth the subsequent intercourse between the parties.

VII. THE VISIT OF THE CZAREVITCH, 1891.

Worthy reception in Peking impossible--Attempted substitution of provincial reception--Czarevitch visits only the Russian communities in China.

Closely connected in point of time, and possibly by a more vital link, with the imperial audience was the voyage of the Czarevitch to India, China, and Japan in 1890-91. There was no precedent in China for the reception of the member of any foreign royal family. In the days before the first audience the Duke of Edinburgh, while in command of the Galatea, visited Peking, but strictly _incognito_, no visits being exchanged with any Chinese. But times had changed considerably in the twenty years that had since elapsed, and with an emperor of full age on the throne things that were winked at during his minority could no longer be so lightly treated. The Chinese Government were, in fact, perfectly conscious of the responsibility which lay upon them to show courtesy to so distinguished a visitor as the heir to the throne of Russia, and they took timely measures for his reception.

The position of the audience question convinced the Ministers that it would be impossible to receive him worthily in Peking, since to do so would be to admit equality with foreign States. The first care of the Chinese, therefore, was to induce his Imperial Highness to stay away from the capital. The Russian Government were told that Li Hung-chang, representing the Chinese Emperor, would meet the Czarevitch at Chefoo, and that his reception by other Governors of provinces would be deemed equivalent to one by the emperor in person. The Russian Government fell into the trap, and the programme of provincial receptions would have been carried out but for the eccentricity of Chang Chih-tung, the governor-general of the Hu provinces on the Yangtze. He, with the other provincials, had received the instructions about the reception of the Czarevitch, but he alone treated the order with contempt, not even deigning to answer it or to explain his reason. The order did not emanate from Peking, and he would not accept a mandate from an equal. Evidently the emperor had no hand in drawing up the programme, and this Chang had the best means of knowing, for he had a brother in the Inner Council. This action of a high authority throws full light on the difference between an imperial and a provincial transaction, as the Chinese themselves regard it.

In keeping with this independent attitude of Chang was the rudeness with which he received the officer deputed by the Russian admiral to arrange details of the reception at Wuchang. In this way the intended imposture was exposed. But if the Russian Government had been too easily led into a false position, it must be admitted they extricated themselves cleverly, by simply demanding a yellow chair for the Czarevitch, a colour reserved exclusively for the emperor. As this could not be conceded the official ceremonies fell through, and the Czarevitch contented himself with visiting the Russian communities at the Chinese ports. He then proceeded to Japan, where a brilliant reception awaited him; and from Japan to Vladivostock, where he turned the first sod of the Trans-Siberian Railway, 19th May 1891.

FOOTNOTES:

[24] See _infra_, p. 343.

[25] See _infra_, p. 330.