It was significant of her impartial and intelligent rulership that, although she had blamed him as originally responsible for the Japanese War and its disastrous results, she had never approved of the Emperor’s hasty and vindictive action in removing him from the Viceroyalty of Chihli. Upon the signing of the Peace Protocol she conferred additional posthumous honours upon him, taking occasion at the same time, in an Imperial Decree, to congratulate and thank Prince Ch’ing, Yüan Shih-k’ai and others, who assisted in bringing about the settlement of peace terms. In particular she praised the loyalty of Jung Lu, “who had earnestly advised the annihilation of the Boxers, and who, in addition to other meritorious services on the Grand Council, had been chiefly instrumental in protecting the Legations.”
After a series of magnificent theatrical entertainments in honour of her birthday, the Court left K’ai-fêng and continued its journey to the capital. On the eve of her departure Her Majesty took occasion sternly and publicly to rebuke the Manchu Prefect, Wen T’i,[121] who had dared to advise her against returning to the capital, and to predict that the treacherous foreigners would certainly seize her sacred person—a useful piece of play to the gallery.
At the crossing of the Yellow River, which took place in beautiful weather, she sacrificed to the River God, in expiation and thanksgiving. The local officials had constructed a magnificent barge, in the form of a dragon, upon which she and the ladies of the Court crossed the stream. It was noticed from this point onwards that wherever foreigners happened to be amongst the spectators of the Imperial cortège, she made a point of showing them particular attention and civility, and before her arrival in Peking she issued a Decree commanding that Europeans should not be prevented from watching the procession upon her arrival, and this in spite of the fact that, in accordance with the usual custom, the Legations had issued notices forbidding their nationals to appear in the streets during the passage of the Imperial cortège. Everything indicated, in fact, that Her Majesty now desired to conciliate the European Powers by all possible means, and if it be borne in mind that it was part of her deliberate policy thus to ingratiate herself with foreigners as a means of furthering her own future policy, her actions lose nothing of interest, while they gain something from the humorous point of view.
On crossing the borders of the Province of Chihli, Her Majesty issued a Decree, couched in almost effusive terms of friendliness, proclaiming that the Emperor would receive the foreign Ministers in audience immediately upon his return to the Palace, and that the reception would take place in the central Throne Hall of the sacred enclosure. Chinese, reading this Decree, and ignorant of the terms of the Peace Protocol which provided for this particular concession to the barbarian, would naturally regard it as a spontaneous mark of the Imperial clemency and goodwill. In the same Edict Her Majesty proclaimed her intention of receiving the Ministers’ wives in person, intimating that she cherished most pleasant memories of past friendly intercourse with them. Here, again, we note fulfilment of a plan, deliberately conceived and formed upon the best classical models, “for dealing with strong and savage people.”
At noon on the 6th of January, 1902, the Imperial party arrived by special train at the temporary station which had been erected close to the Southern walls of Peking, and adjoining the old terminus at Ma-chia pu. Large pavilions, handsomely decorated, had been erected near the station, in which the Old Buddha and the Emperor were to be received; they were furnished with a throne of gold lacquer, cloisonné altar vessels and many valuable pieces of porcelain. Several hundreds of the highest metropolitan officials were in attendance, and a special place had been provided for foreigners. As the long train of over thirty carriages drew up at the station, the keen face of the Old Buddha was seen anxiously scanning her surroundings from one of the windows of her car. With her were the young Empress and the Princess Imperial, while the chief eunuch, Li Lien-ying, was in attendance. Recognising Her Majesty, every official fell upon his knees, whilst Chi Lu, chief officer of the Household, officiously shouted to the foreigners to remove their hats (which they had already done). The first to emerge from the train was the chief eunuch, who proceeded forthwith to check the long list of provincial tribute and treasure, mountainous loads of baggage which had travelled with the Court from the start and under Her Majesty’s close personal supervision. After the eunuch came the Emperor, evidently extremely nervous, who, at a sign from Her Majesty, hurried into his sedan-chair and was swiftly borne away, without a word or a sign of recognition to any of the officials in attendance. After his departure, the Empress came out and stood upon the platform at the end of her carriage. “Quite a number of foreigners are here, I see,” she was heard to observe. She saluted them in accordance with the etiquette observed by Chinese women—bowing and raising her crossed hands. Prince Ch’ing then advanced to greet Her Majesty, and with him Wang Wen-shao (who had succeeded Li Hung-chang as Peace Plenipotentiary). They invited Her Majesty to enter her chair: “There is no hurry,” she replied. She stood for some five minutes in full view of the crowd, talking energetically with the bystanders, and looking extremely well and youthful for her age, until the chief eunuch returned and handed her the list of baggage and treasure, which she scanned with close attention and then returned to him with an expression of satisfaction.
After this, at the request of the Viceroy of Chihli (Yüan Shih-k’ai), the foreign manager and engineer of the railway were presented to her, and received her thanks for the satisfactory arrangements made throughout the journey. She then entered her chair, a larger and finer conveyance than that supplied to the Emperor, and was borne away towards the Palace; by her side ran one of her favourite eunuchs repeatedly calling Her Majesty’s attention to objects of interest. Whenever foreigners were in sight he would inform Her Majesty of the fact, and by one he was heard distinctly to say: “Look! Old Buddha, look quickly at that foreign devil,” whereupon the Empress smiled and bowed most affably. Passing through the Southern gate of the Chinese city, her bearers carried her straight to the large enceinte of the Tartar city wall at the Ch’ienmen, where stands the shrine dedicated to the tutelary God of the Manchus. Here crowds of foreigners were in waiting on the wall. Looking down on the courtyard towards the shrine, they saw the Old Buddha leave her chair and fall upon her knees to burn incense before the image of the God of War, whilst several Taoist priests chanted the ritual. Rising she next looked up towards the foreigners, smiling and bowing, before she was carried away through the gate into the precincts of the Forbidden City. No sooner had she reached the inner palace (the Ning Shou kung) at about 2 P.M., than she commanded the eunuchs to commence digging up the treasure which had been buried there at the time of her flight; she was gratified beyond measure to find that it had indeed remained untouched.
Next, with an eye not only upon her future relations with foreigners but also on public opinion throughout the Empire, she issued a Decree conferring posthumous honours on the “Pearl concubine,” who, as it will be remembered, was thrown down a well by her orders on the morning of the Court’s flight from the Palace. In this Decree Her Majesty praises the virtue and admirable courage of the dead woman, which “led her virtuously to commit suicide when unable to catch up the Court on its departure,” unwilling as she was to witness the destruction and pollution of the ancestral shrines. Her trustworthy conduct was therefore rewarded by the granting of a posthumous title and by promotion of one step in rank in the Imperial harem. The Decree was generally regarded as fulfilling all reasonable requirements of atonement towards the deceased, for in China the dead yet live and move in a shadowy, but none the less real, hierarchy. Alive, a “Pearl concubine” more or less counted for little when weighed against the needs of the Old Buddha’s policies; once dead, however, her spirit must needs be conciliated and compensated.
Many Europeans who had witnessed the arrival of the Empress Dowager, remained at the railway station to see the unloading of her long baggage train, a most interesting and instructive sight. First were discharged the yellow chairs of the young Empress and the Princess Imperial, and four green chairs with yellow borders for the principal concubines; the other ladies of the Court followed in official carts, two to each vehicle. There were about ninety of them altogether, and the arrangements for their conveyance were accompanied by no little noise and confusion, the loquacity of some of the elder ladies being most noticeable. After their departure the attention of the eunuchs and minor officials was directed to the huge pile of the Empress Dowager’s personal baggage, which included her cooking utensils and household articles in daily use. This operation, as well as the removal of a very large quantity of bullion, (every case of which was marked with the name of the province or city that had sent it as tribute), was for a time superintended by the Grand Council. But as the work was enough to last for several hours, it was not long before, led by Jung Lu, they entered their chairs and left for the City. It was noticed that Jung Lu seemed very infirm, and was supported as he walked by two attendants of almost gigantic stature.
From Cheng-ting fu to Pao-ting fu, and thence to Peking, the Court travelled, for the first time in its history, by train. The following description of the journey is reprinted, by kind permission of the editor of The Times, from an article published in that paper in March, 1902. It shows an interesting side of the Empress Dowager’s character, that of the thrifty mistress of her goods and chattels, and gives a clear-cut impression of that vigorous personality which devoted the same close attention to details of transport and domestic economy as to niceties of Court ceremonial or historical precedents on vital questions of State; characteristics which inevitably suggest a marked resemblance between the Old Buddha and le petit Caporal.
“Early on December 31st the Court arrived at Cheng-ting fu, escorted by a large body of cavalry and accompanied by an enormous suite of officials, eunuchs and servants. The baggage was carried by a train of carts, estimated by an eye-witness at three thousand. The eunuchs numbered between three and four hundred, and of cooks and other kitchen servants there were almost as many. To provide accommodation for such a mass of people was impossible, especially as all the best quarters in the town had already been occupied by the high officials who, with their retainers, had come from the north to welcome the Empress Dowager on her return. For three days the Court rested in Cheng-ting fu, during which time the scene was one of indescribable confusion; baggage, stacked haphazard, filled every available corner, eunuchs and servants camping around and upon it, stolidly enduring much physical discomfort with the apathy peculiar to Asiatics. Yet, so great was the cold (on the night of January 1st the thermometer stood at two degrees (Fahrenheit) below zero) that many of these wayfarers gave way to lamentations and tears. Officials of the lower and middle grades, unable to obtain a lodging, were compelled to pass these days in such makeshift shelter as they could find in the vicinity of the railway station, where swarmed a mob of undisciplined soldiery. On the second night a fire broke out in the stables of the Imperial residence, which, though eventually checked before much damage was done, added greatly to the general disorder, and might well have had serious results in the absence of all organisation and control. The definite announcement of the Court’s intention to leave for Pao-ting fu on the 3rd of January was received with unmistakable relief by the hungry, motley crowd which represented the pomp and pride of Asia’s greatest Empire.