III. THE FOREIGN CUSTOMS UNDER THE PEKING CONVENTION.
Centralised in Peking—Encouraged by British Ministers—Assumed imperial form after the treaties of 1858—Extension to all the ports—Original international basis becomes purely Chinese—Shows capacity for larger functions than collection of duties—Becomes a diplomatic auxiliary—British Government leans upon it—The Chinese faithfully served by it—Interpreter of the intentions of the foreign Governments—Inspector-General gains influence over British Minister—Pleases Board of Trade—And maintains confidential relations with British Government—While remaining faithful to China—Services rendered by the Customs to all commercial nations.
It was a source of unmixed satisfaction to Sir Rutherford Alcock, on assuming office in Peking, to find the maritime customs, the bantling of Shanghai, firmly established in the capital and gathering strength and influence. As its functions pertained exclusively to trade, Sir Frederick Bruce had been originally of opinion that the inspector-general should be located in the commercial centre, Shanghai, and he took exception to the institution being domiciled in Peking, where trade was expressly excluded by treaty. Sir Frederick, however, soon saw reason to modify his views. When it began to appear to him that the customs might prove a convenient auxiliary to the diplomacy of the treaty Powers, he cultivated the institution and encouraged it to occult activity in the political sphere. Sir Frederick Bruce's interests in the fortunes of the customs, however, could never be so ardent as that of its parent, Sir Rutherford Alcock, and its monthly nurse, Mr Wade. The presence of these two in the British Legation afforded a fresh guarantee of the prosperity of the customs, which they were both well satisfied to see in the competent hands of Mr Hart. For as the institution was a creation without precedent, the form of its development must be largely influenced by the personal qualities of its head. Whatever character it might have assumed under its original inspector-general, Lay, it could hardly have been the same service that has grown and spread under the directing hand of Sir Robert Hart. It is impossible to dissociate the Chinese customs as it stands from the vigorous self-sustained intellect that has moulded and still controls it, for it is assuredly not such a going concern as can be made over to any new head without the risk of changes more or less organic.
The story of the first decade of the maritime customs was told clearly, briefly, and modestly in a monograph which Mr Hart prepared for Mr Bruce in 1864, published as a Blue Book of thirteen pages (No. 1, 1865). Up to the date of the Tientsin treaty of 1858 the operations of the foreign collectorate were confined to the single port of Shanghai, the inspectors holding the appointment from the governor-general at Nanking, who was Imperial Commissioner for Foreign Trade. The new treaty gave the foreign Powers an interest in the Chinese customs which they did not possess before, because the war indemnities were to be paid by instalments out of the collections of duty, so that during the time when these payments were being made the maintenance of the machinery for collecting the duties was a matter of international concern. The new treaty also provided for a uniform system of duty collection for all the trading-ports; and then the institution assumed an imperial and dropped its provincial character, the inspector-general receiving his commission from the Central Government.
Considering that the mission of the foreign customs was to subvert time-honoured native systems, it was received with surprising graciousness at most of the trading centres. The first port to which the new system was extended was Canton, the leader in welcoming its advent there being the hoppo, the one functionary in the empire whose privileges seemed to be most directly threatened by the new-comer. By one of those anomalies which are so common and yet so inexplicable in Chinese affairs, arrangements for opening the office in Canton were carried on without interruption during the hostilities of 1859. Patience, tact, and resolution were nevertheless required to overcome the innumerable difficulties of detail incidental to substituting rigorous inspection and remorseless collection for the chaos of unaccountability which had previously reigned unchallenged. A very few years, however, served to reduce all obstruction, and to bring trader and official, foreigner and Chinese, into working harmony.
For the first time in history a true account was rendered to the Imperial Government, accompanied by a substantial revenue on which it could depend. Naturally the agency, though foreign, which yielded such tangible fruit, commended itself to the statesmen of the capital, who frankly recognised, as did the provincial authorities themselves, that the result obtained was wholly beyond the competence of any native organisation. Though, therefore, the customs service was essentially of a provisional, stop-gap character, it had on that very account a surer guarantee of permanence than could have been derived from any paper covenant by which the Chinese Government could have been bound, for that would have provoked disputation and evasion. The spasmodic attempt to formalise the service on a basis of international obligation which was made in 1898 was perhaps the first thing that really imperilled its constitution. In its origin, indeed, the foreign customs had been international, the three treaty Powers being each represented on the inspectorate; but with the expansion in 1858 this character was abandoned, and the customs became a purely Chinese concern operated by foreign employees, the staff being selected from among all nations indiscriminately, according to personal merit.
Almost from the time of the transference of the inspectorate to the capital the customs showed capacities of wider range than are comprised within the routine of a custom-house. Profoundly impressed as were the imperial statesmen with the value of the new revenue-producer, they soon began to perceive that the institution might be put to other and greater uses. Plurality of function in itself was no stumbling-block to them, for it is the system on which Chinese administration is carried on. In the very first year they had intrusted the inspector-general and his deputy with the organisation of a navy, with the evident approval of the British Minister. That functionary, indeed, seemed as little disposed as the Chinese themselves to see incongruity in the various forms of customs activity, especially when he regarded its extra official services as rendered to himself; and he really stood much in need of services of that kind.
Her Majesty's first representative in Peking, helpless and despairing, was, in fact, fain to throw himself on the support of the first inspector-general, Mr Lay, and then of his successor, Mr Hart, as having knowledge and influence with the Chinese Government which was not possessed by the British Legation. It did not apparently occur to Mr Bruce that such knowledge was strictly limited, and that the influence could be of very little use to him, and might be too dearly purchased. Having no other resource, however, he was perhaps not unwilling to shut his eyes to the false position in which he was placing himself in leaning upon the paid servants of the Chinese Government to assist him in carrying out a policy which was totally repugnant to that Government. The fidelity of both Mr Lay and Mr Hart to the master whom they served being beyond question, the diplomatic prestige conferred on them by the British Minister, as well as the knowledge and influence derived from the other side, must, in all matters of controversy, be thrown into the Chinese scale.
As this interesting truth dawned upon the minds of the Tsungli-Yamên, they saw in their English employee a providential instrument for drawing the sting from the threatening language which was sometimes applied to them by the foreign representatives. Of these, the only one who had as yet any serious matter to discuss with the Chinese was the representative of Great Britain. It was assumed on the British side that nothing proposed by that Power was contrary to the interests of China: so far, indeed, did this theory inspire their action, that the welfare of the Chinese seemed at times to overshadow that of their own empire in the minds of the British representatives. No doubt there was an ideal point of view from which the interests of China and her Western neighbours might seem ultimately to blend, but Chinese statesmen were in nowise able to take in such a large perspective. They continued to regard the foreign invasion, with all its pretences of goodwill, as an unmitigated calamity to be opposed wherever possible. No man can pronounce a certain judgment as to whether, with their imperfect knowledge, they were more right or more wrong in following their obstructive instincts. Reforms, progress, and the opening up of the country to foreigners, were being persistently pressed upon them; they fully expected these concessions to be demanded of them when the time came—and it was already drawing near—when the treaties should be revised. Admitting, moreover, that some one, or more, of the Powers might have been considerate enough to forego, or indefinitely postpone, advantages for themselves rather than imperil the wellbeing of the Chinese State, there were already six instead of the original three treaty Powers to be reckoned with; nor was there any limit to the further increase of their numbers. Supposing, then, that, relying on the benignant intentions of the English, they should, in the revision of their treaty, admit such innovations as inland steam navigation, inland residence, railways, and so forth, would not these successes stimulate the other Powers, when their turn for revision came,—France in 1870, Germany in 1871, and others later,—to advance still farther the outposts of the foreign invasion, each, in a spirit of generous emulation, striving to surpass the achievements of his predecessor; and all with the complacent consciousness that they were doing good to China? These endless contingencies were more than Chinese statesmen could cope with, and the apprehension of them had no other effect than to consolidate their resistance in small as well as in great things. They were learning to mistrust the efficacy of their ancient imperial policy of dividing and ruling, and with good reason had lost confidence in their capacity to distinguish in embryo between what was trivial and what was laden with deep consequences.
Resistance, therefore, tempered by the fear of force, seemed their only refuge. Some of the dangers ahead, of which they had glimpses, might have been obviated by a bolder policy; but being unable to formulate such a policy for themselves, and unwilling to accept it cut and dried from others, there was nothing left them but indiscriminate resistance. Under such conditions no harmony was possible between the Chinese and Western Governments; and not knowing how far they might with safety evade the pressure put upon them, the Chinese had recourse to the Inspector-General of Customs, as Louis XI. had recourse to his astrologer whenever he felt himself in a difficult crisis.
The Tsungli-Yamên, accustomed to act on hand-to-mouth views of policy, would do anything to relieve the pressure of the moment, but nothing to prevent a recurrence of it. Indisposed to follow up the sequences of cause and effect, they would in emergencies become impatient of ratiocination and attempt to reach the foregone conclusion by a shorter cut. Common gossip in China thus fairly summarised their attitude in certain crises of this kind. If discussion with the British Legation ran high, the Yamên would send for the inspector-general and ask simply, "Does this mean war?" The answer being "No," the question ceased to trouble the Yamên, and the foreign Minister would be allowed to rage at his pleasure. Their Excellencies would even help him out with the opprobrious terms he was searching for, and then listen placidly to the remainder of the tirade. Great Britain having not only the preponderating interest, but being still the leading Power in the Far East, it was obviously a great advantage for the Chinese that it should be that Power which came particularly under the influence of the inspector-general. To tie the hands of the British Government for a whole generation was, indeed, an achievement worthy of a master of policy; but it was by no means the only service which might be rendered to China even by an Inspector-General of Customs.
The same agency was destined in later days to unravel many tangled skeins in China's international relations. It brought Gordon to her rescue in 1880; by sheer innate ability in the use of the most unpromising means, it brought about peace with France in 1885; and, though with less success, it procured the attempted intervention of Great Britain with Japan in 1894.
How far these great potentialities were foreseen in the earlier years of the Customs service is doubtful. Even in their parental complacency Sir Rutherford Alcock and Mr Wade may well have failed to realise, as an uninterested outsider might have done, the nature of the power that was being nursed in their infant Hercules. Certain it is that they reckoned it as a factor on their own side. It is clear that Sir Rutherford Alcock, so far from regarding the inspector-general as an opponent, commended him to the Foreign Office as a valuable auxiliary. Mr Wade clung to the same belief for a good many years longer.
The first to perceive the tendency of the new relationship which events were bringing about was, no doubt, the inspector-general himself. China, he saw, could be best served by a virtual control of the British Legation. The nascent power was, however, too precious to be trusted to personal accidents, and the inspector-general wisely availed himself of circumstances as they arose to widen his basis of influence by establishing such relations with the Home Government as might save him from being wholly dependent on the life or the caprice of the representative for the time being at Peking. Such to an ordinary man might have appeared a hopeless ambition, considering the circumstance of distance and other adverse conditions. Yet by gradual steps this too was accomplished. A well-directed stroke or a happy accident established the inspector-general in high favour with the Board of Trade when under the presidency of Mr John Bright. He had summed up the results of the treaty revision[13] negotiations in 1868 in a congratulatory letter to the British Minister which has been many times published. As a masterly exposition of the State of China in its relation to foreign Powers it was warmly indorsed by Sir Rutherford Alcock, and is well worth perusal even at this day. The Board of Trade was much impressed by a presentment of the Chinese case so much in sympathy with the views often expressed by Mr Cobden and Mr Bright, and which are traditional in the Board of Trade. Their policy was noninterference in the affairs of China, based largely on their disparagement of the value of British interests in that country. In commenting on this closely reasoned State Paper, the Board of Trade specially selected for illustration of its merit the following passage: "Of course, force will wrest anything from China: but wherever there is action there is reaction; and as sure as natural laws continue to act, so sure it is that appeals to force in one age will give to the men of a later day a heritage of vengeance,—the Europeans of some future day may wish that their forefathers had not sown the seeds of hatred in the bayonet-ploughed soil of Cathay."
Nor was this the only result of the happy success of the new customs diplomacy, for, as the connecting link between commerce and politics, the Board of Trade was a potent agency in determining the political action of the Government, more especially when there was a strong man at the head of it and a weak one at the Foreign Office.
The rising power in China did not seek fresh conquests, but was adroit in seizing on such as came in its way, and circumstances having brought it in direct touch with the Foreign Office, that department was drawn into close relation with the Chinese customs.
The result of all this, briefly stated, was the partial effacement of the Legation and the gradual promotion of Sir Robert Hart to the first place in the confidence of the British Government. As the Foreign Office had, since the suppression of the Taiping rebellion and the death of Lord Palmerston, been most reluctant either to busy itself or to inform itself respecting affairs in China, and was, moreover, anxious to minimise the cost of the Legation in Peking, it was rather predisposed to accept volunteer assistance in the management of British interests in China. The Legation was then, as now, without any intelligence department, the cost of which was saved under the vague belief that all needful information might be obtained from the customs. Thus relegated to a secondary place, the Legation was more and more neglected by Her Majesty's Government, until at last representatives were selected at random and sent out without instructions, in blind reliance on the good offices of the Inspector-General of Customs.
Before this final stage had been reached, however, such an opportunity occurred, through the death of Sir Harry Parkes, of legitimising the irregular connection, as a death sometimes provides in certain relations of domestic life, and Sir Robert Hart was himself appointed British Minister. This step was recognised as so far appropriate to the circumstances that it conjoined responsibility with power, which had been too long divorced from each other. But just as the new Minister was about to assume his duties a hitch occurred with the Tsungli-Yamên, whose views as to the succession to the post of head of the customs not coinciding with Sir Robert Hart's, he thereupon resigned the office of British Minister and resumed his Chinese service. The incident made no difference in the confidence which Sir Robert Hart inspired in the Foreign Office, which had, in fact, drifted into a position of dependence on the inspector-general. This close relationship continued until the Japanese war in 1894, when the British Government, the victim of many illusions, found itself in a condition of bewilderment, like King Lear on the heath, quite unfurnished with the means of coping with the superior intelligence of the other European Powers.
Throughout all these years the attitude of the inspector-general towards his Chinese employers was absolutely above suspicion. He served them loyally throughout, and if the British Government imagined he was using his highly paid position under the Chinese Government in any way to promote other than Chinese interests, that was a gratuitous assumption on their part for which they alone were responsible, and for which, as for all false strategy, the inevitable penalty must be paid.
Among the important international services rendered by the foreign customs, the effective lighting of the coast deserves the first place. Next to that may be reckoned the compilation of accurate statistics of foreign trade with China, more complete perhaps than exists in any other country. The reports of the commissioners of customs at the various ports are also replete with varied and useful information concerning the commerce, industry, and agriculture, with other conditions of the life of the Chinese. Special subjects assigned to individual men are treated as exhaustively as if investigated by a Royal Commission. These valuable papers constitute a modern Chinese Repository to which there is but one drawback—its inaccessibility.