Jung Lu joined the Court on the day after its arrival at T’ai-yüan, and was most affectionately welcomed by the Old Buddha, to whom he gave a full account of his journey through Chihli and of the widespread devastation wrought by the Boxers. He had previously sent in the following Memorial which clearly reflects those qualities which had endeared him to his Imperial Mistress, and which so honourably distinguished him from the sycophants and classical imbeciles of the Court:—
“At dawn, on the 21st day of the 7th Moon (15th August) your Majesty’s servant proceeded to the Gate of Reverend Peace (inside the Palace), and learned that your Majesties’ sacred chariot had left for the West. While there I came across Ch’ung Ch’i,[106] the President of the Board of Revenue, and we were proposing to hurry after your Majesties, when we learned that the North-Eastern and Northern Gates of the city had fallen. So we left Peking by another gate, my first object being to try and rally some of the troops. But after several conferences with Generals Sung Ch’ing and Tung Fu-hsiang, I was forced to the conclusion that our repeated defeats had been too severe, and that, in the absence of large reinforcements, there was no hope of our being able to take the field again. Our men were in a state of complete panic and had lost all stomach for fighting. I therefore left and came on to Pao-t’ing fu, and lodged there with Ch’ung Ch’i in the “Water Lily” Garden. All night long he and I discussed the situation, hoping to see some way out of the misfortunes which had overtaken the State. Ch’ung Ch’i could not conceal the bitterness of his grief, and on the morning of the next day he hanged himself in one of the outer courtyards, leaving a letter for me in which was enclosed his valedictory Memorial to your Majesties, together with a set of verses written just before his death. These I now forward for your Majesty’s gracious perusal, because I feel that his suicide deserves your pity, just as his high sense of duty merits your praise. He was indeed a man of the purest integrity, and had all the will, though, alas, not the power, to avert the misfortunes which have befallen us. He had always looked upon the magic arts of the Boxers with profound contempt, unworthy even of the effort of a smile from a wise man. At this critical juncture, the loss of my trusted colleague is indeed a heavy blow, but I am compelled to remember that the position which I hold, all unworthily, as your Majesty’s Commander-in-Chief, necessitates my bearing the burden of my heavy responsibilities so long as the breath of life is in my body.
“Such makeshift arrangements as were feasible I made for the temporary disposal of Ch’ung Ch’i’s remains, and I now forward the present Memorial by special courier to your Majesty, informing you of the manner of his decease, because I hold it to be unfitting that his end should pass unnoticed and unhonoured. Your Majesty will, no doubt, determine on the posthumous honours to be accorded to him.
“It is now my intention to proceed, with what speed I may, to T’ai-yüan fu, there to pay my reverent duty to your Majesty and to await the punishment due for my failure to avert these calamities.”
In reply to this Memorial, Tzŭ Hsi conferred high posthumous honours upon Ch’ung Ch’i, praising his loyalty and honesty.
Jung Lu proceeded on his journey, but at a town on the Chihli border his wife took ill and died. She had only joined him at Pao-t’ing fu. The Old Buddha welcomed him with sincere affection upon his arrival at T’ai-yüan and raised his secondary wife, the Lady Liu, to the rank of “Fu Jen” or legitimate consort. (This lady had always had great influence with the Empress Dowager, which increased during the exile of the Court, and became most noticeable after the return to Peking.)
Tzŭ Hsi asked Jung Lu for his advice as to her future policy. Bluntly, as was his wont, he replied “Old Buddha, there is only one way. You must behead Prince Tuan and all the rest of the Princes and Ministers who misled you and then you must return to Peking.”
An incident, vouched for by a high Manchu official attached to the Court, illustrates the relations at this time existing between the Emperor, the Empress Dowager, and Jung Lu. When the latter reached T’ai-yüan fu, Kuang-Hsü sent a special messenger to summon him. “I am glad you have come at last,” said His Majesty. “I desire that you will have Prince Tuan executed without delay.”
“How can I do so without the Empress Dowager’s orders?” he replied. “The days are past when no other Decree but your Majesty’s was needed.”[107]
Jung Lu’s position, but for the high favour of the Empress Dowager, would have been full of danger, for he was disliked by reactionaries and reformers alike; surrounded by extremists, his intuitive common sense, his doctrine of the “happy mean” had made him many enemies. Nor could he lay claim to a reputation for that “purest integrity” which he had so greatly admired in his colleague Ch’ung Ch’i. At T’ai-yüan fu, he was openly denounced to the Old Buddha for having connived in the embezzlements of a certain Ch’en Tsê-lin, who had been robbing the military Treasury on a grand scale. Jung Lu had ordered that his defalcations be made good, but subsequently informed the Throne that the money had been captured by the Allies, and the accusing Censor did not hesitate to say that the price of his conversion (brought to his quarters by the hands of a sergeant named Yao) had been forty thousand taels of silver, twenty pounds of best birdnests, and four cases of silk. The Empress Dowager shelved the Memorial, as was her wont, though no doubt she used the information for the ultimate benefit of her privy purse. Jung Lu also received vast sums of money and many valuable presents on his birthday, and at the condolence ceremonies for the death of his wife, so much so that he incurred the fierce jealousy of the chief eunuch Li Lien-ying, who was doing his best at this time to re-feather his own nest, despoiled by the troops of the Allies.