The Englishman in China During the Victorian Era, Vol. 2 (of 2) / As Illustrated in the Career of Sir Rutherford Alcock, K.C.B., D.C.L., Many Years Consul and Minister in China and Japan

by Alexander Michie

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.