Prince Kung’s death was a serious matter. On the one hand the Manchu party lost in him its senior representative, an elder whose wise counsel had guided them, and a statesman whose influence had been steadily exercised against their tendencies towards an anti-Chinese and anti-foreign policy. As the last survivor of the sons of Tao-Kuang, he held, vis-à-vis the Empress Dowager, a position very different from that of the other princes, his contemporaries. It is probable that, had he survived, there would have been no Boxer rising. On the other hand, the Emperor had always deferred to Prince Kung’s advice, and it was not until after his death that he embarked headlong on the reform schemes of K’ang Yu-wei and his associates, many of which the Prince, though no bigoted Conservative, would certainly have condemned. To Weng T’ung-ho also the loss was serious, as well he knew, for Prince Kung had been his best friend.
It was shortly after the Prince’s death that Weng recommended K’ang Yu-wei to the Emperor’s notice, informing His Majesty that K’ang’s abilities were far superior to his own. Weng undoubtedly hoped that K’ang would gain the Sovereign’s favour and use it to assist the southern party against the Manchus, and especially against his arch enemies, Kang Yi and Hsü T’ung; but he certainly never anticipated that K’ang would go so far as to advise the Emperor to defy the Old Buddha herself, and to plot against her sacred person. His idea was simply to gain kudos and to strengthen his own position and that of his party. The Emperor accepted his recommendation of K’ang, and summoned the latter to audience on the 28th of the 4th Moon (14th June, 1898).
Weng told his friend and colleague, Liao Shou-heng, that he would await the result of this audience before coming to a decision as to his own future movements. If K’ang Yu-wei made a good impression, he would remain in office; if not, he would resign. He added that if the usual gifts of the Dragon Festival were sent him by the Emperor, he would feel that there was no immediate danger in his position. All he asked was that he might escape the open hostility of the Empress Dowager, such as had fallen upon the Cantonese Vice-President, Chang Yin-huan, whose dismissal was expected at any moment. As it happened, however, K’ang Yu-wei and his friends persuaded the Emperor to insist on retaining Chang Yin-huan in office, and for the next hundred days he became Kuang-Hsü’s right-hand man, playing his part, foredoomed, while in the “deep seclusion of her Palace” the Old Buddha bided her time.
On the 20th of the 4th Moon, Weng T’ung-ho applied for a week’s sick leave, a face-saving device which showed that he was aware of the impending storm. On the 23rd, His Majesty issued the first of his Reform Decrees. He had duly conferred on the subject with the Empress at the Summer Palace, and had accorded a special audience to Jung Lu. Tzŭ Hsi assured him that she would raise no obstacles to his proposed policy, provided that the ancient privileges of the Manchus were not infringed; at the same time, she insisted on his getting rid of Weng T’ung-ho without delay, as he was instigating an anti-Manchu movement which, if it gained headway, might involve the Dynasty in ruin. Jung Lu strongly recommended to His Majesty a notable progressive, the son of Ch’en Pao-chen, Governor of Hupei. The fact is of interest because of the idea prevalent among Europeans, that Jung Lu was ever opposed to reform. Subsequent events compelled him to turn against the very man whom he now recommended, but this was not so much on account of a change in his views, as because the policy of the reformers had developed on unexpected and dangerous lines. The first Reform Decree was as follows:—
“Of late years many of our Ministers have advocated a policy of reform, and we have accordingly issued Decrees which provide for the institution of special examinations in political economy, for the abolition of useless troops and the old form of examination for military degrees, as well as for founding Colleges. No decision has been taken in these matters without the fullest care, but the country still lacks enlightenment, and views differ as to the course which reform should follow. Those who claim to be Conservative patriots consider that all the old customs should be upheld and new ideas repudiated without compromise. Such querulous opinions are worthless. Consider the needs of the times and the weakness of our Empire! If we continue to drift with our army untrained, our revenues disorganised, our scholars ignorant, and our artisans without technical training, how can we possibly hope to hold our own among the nations, or to cross the gulf which divides the weak from the strong? It is our belief that a condition of unrest creates disrespect for authority and produces friction, which in turn leads to the formation of factions in the State, hostile to each other as fire and water. Under such conditions, our Government would find itself confronted by the abuses and errors of the Sung and Ming Dynasties, to its imminent peril. The virtuous rulers of remote antiquity did not cling obstinately to existing needs, but were ready to accept change, even as one wears grass-cloth garments in summer, and furs in winter.
“We now issue this special Decree so that all our subjects, from the Imperial family downwards, may hereafter exert themselves in the cause of reform. The basis of education will continue to rest on the canons of the Sages, but at the same time there must be careful investigation of every branch of European learning appropriate to existing needs, so that there may be an end to empty fallacies and that by zeal efficiency may be attained. Parrot-like plagiarisms of shallow theories are to be avoided, and catchwords eschewed. What we desire to attain is the elimination of useless things and the advancement of learning which, while based on ancient principles, shall yet move in harmony with the times. The Peking University is to be made a model for the Empire, and all officials of the rank of Board Secretaries, officers of the bodyguard, expectant Magistrates, sons of high officials and Manchus of hereditary rank, are to be entitled to enter upon a college course in order that their talents may be trained to meet the needs of these critical times. No procrastination or favouritism will be tolerated, nor any disregard of these, the Throne’s admonitions.”
On the following day was proclaimed the result of what the Emperor fully intended to be the last examination under the old classical-essay system. The candidate originally selected for the high honour of Optimus was again a Kiangsu man, but the Empress herself altered the list and conferred the coveted distinction upon a native of Kueichou province, to mark her displeasure against the province which had given birth to Weng T’ung-ho. At the same time a Decree advised members of the Imperial Clan to seek education in Europe; even Princes of the Blood were to be encouraged to go abroad and to investigate political conditions. Among the Manchus, the sensation created by these Decrees was very great; they felt that, for the first time in history, fundamental things were being challenged, the ancient bulwarks of the Dynastic privileges in danger. Had not Mencius himself said: “We have heard of Chinese ideas being employed to convert barbarians, but have never heard of China being converted by barbarians.”
On the morning after the issue of the second Decree, Weng T’ung-ho, on return from his week’s leave, proceeded as usual at 4 A.M. to the Summer Palace to attend the audience of the Grand Council. He was met by one of the Secretaries to the Council who, handing him an Imperial Decree, informed him of his dismissal. It was Tzŭ Hsi’s first open move on behalf of the Manchu party, and a clear admission of tutelage on the part of the Emperor. This was the Decree:—
“A Vermilion Rescript.—We have recently had occasion more than once to observe that the Grand Secretary Weng T’ung-ho has failed in the proper performance of his duties, and that he is the object of very general criticism. He has frequently been impeached, and when questioned by ourselves at audience, he has allowed his manner to betray his feelings, even daring to express approval or displeasure in our presence. His conduct has gradually revealed a wild ambition and a tendency to usurp our authority: it is no longer possible to retain him on the Grand Council. Strictly speaking, his conduct merits close scrutiny and punishment, but bearing in mind that for years he has served us as our tutor, we are averse to inflicting any severe penalty. Weng T’ung-ho is ordered forthwith to vacate his post on the Council, and to return to his native place. Thus is our clemency made manifest.”
Another Decree proved even more plainly that the Emperor was completely under Tzŭ Hsi’s orders; it directed that all officials above the second rank should thenceforward return thanks to Her Majesty in person upon receiving appointments. This was a new departure, for, since the war with Japan, she had ceased to hold daily audiences, receiving officials only on her birthday and other State occasions. Another Decree of the same day transferred Jung Lu to Tientsin as Viceroy of Chihli. He and K’ang Yu-wei were received in audience next morning. To Jung Lu the Emperor gave orders to reorganise the forces in Chihli, adding that he looked to him for loyal co-operation in the reform movement. The audience to K’ang Yu-wei, first of many similar interviews (but the only one recorded in the official Gazette), lasted several hours. K’ang deeply disliked and feared Tzŭ Hsi, and from the outset he did his best to prejudice the Emperor against her. He reiterated his opinion that her sympathy for reform was merely a feint, and he roundly denounced her wanton extravagance and dissipated life at the Summer Palace. He described the unpopularity of the Manchu rule in the south as chiefly due to the people’s contempt for Her Majesty, and compared her private life to that of the notorious Empress Wu of the T’ang Dynasty. He advised Kuang-Hsü to relegate her permanently to retirement, she being the chief obstacle to reform. The Emperor fell speedily and completely under K’ang’s influence, and none of his subsequent Edicts was issued without K’ang’s assistance. In the light of later knowledge, and of almost universal Chinese opinion on this subject, it is difficult to acquit K’ang Yu-wei of personal and interested motives, of a desire to wield power in the State as the result of his influence over the Emperor, whose emotional pliability he made to serve his own ends. Looked at in this light, his denunciations of the Empress Dowager and Jung Lu were evidently less the outcome of patriotic indignation than of his recognition of the fact that, so long as Tzŭ Hsi remained in power, his ambitions could never be achieved, nor his own position secured.