China under the Empress Dowager

by J. O. P. Bland; Sir E. Backhouse

24th Day of the 5th Moon: The Hour of the Cock, 5-7 P.M. (20th June).—I have just returned from visiting my brother-in-law, the Grand Secretary Kang Yi; he told me all about this morning’s audience. At the hour of the Tiger (3-5 A.M.) the Grand Council assembled in the Palace by the Lake, and were received by the Old Buddha in the Pavilion of the Ceremonial Phœnix. All were there, Prince Li, Jung Lu, Kang Yi, Wang Wen-shao, Ch’i Hsiu, and Chao Shu-ch’iao, but the Emperor was absent. This was a special audience, preparatory to the general audience of all the Princes and Ministers, and its object was to give the Grand Council an opportunity of laying before Her Majesty any new facts or opinions bearing upon the situation.

With tears in his eyes, Jung Lu knelt before Her Majesty; he confessed that the foreigners had only themselves to blame if China declared war upon them, but he urged her to bear in mind that an attack on the Legations, as recommended by Prince Tuan and the rest of the Council, might entail the ruin of the ancestral shrines of the Dynasty, as well as the altars of the local and tutelary Gods. What good purpose, he asked, would be served by the besieging nay, even by the destruction, of this isolated handful of Europeans? What lustre could it add to the Imperial arms? Obviously, it must be waste of energy and misdirected purpose.

The Old Buddha replied that if these were his views, he had better persuade the foreigners to leave the city before the attack began; she could no longer restrain the patriotic movement, even if she wished. If therefore, he had no better advice than this to offer, he might consider himself excused from further attendance at the Council.

Jung Lu thereupon kowtowed thrice and left the audience hall to return to his own house. Upon his departure, Ch’i Hsiu drew from his boot the draft of the Decree which was to declare war. Her Majesty read it and exclaimed, “Admirable, admirable! These are exactly my views.” She asked each Grand Councillor in turn for his opinion, and they declared unanimously in favour of hostilities. It was now the hour appointed for the general audience and Li-Lien-ying came in to conduct her Majesty to her own apartments to take tea before proceeding to the “Hall of Diligent Government.”

All the leading members of the Imperial Clan were kneeling at the entrance to the Hall, awaiting their Majesties’ arrival: the Princes Kung, Ch’un and Tuan; the “Beilehs” Tsai Lien and Tsai Ying; Duke Lan and his brother the “Beitzu” Ying; Prince Ch’ing and the five Grand Councillors; the Princes Chuang, Su and Yi; the Presidents, Chinese and Manchu, of the six Boards and the nine Ministries; the Lieutenants-General of the twenty-four Banner divisions; and the Comptrollers of the Imperial Household. Their Majesties arrived together in chairs, borne by four bearers. The Emperor alighted first, and knelt as the “benign mother” left her palanquin and entered the Hall, supported by the Chief Eunuch Li Lien-ying, and by his immediate subordinate, T’sui Chin. The Emperor was ghastly pale, and it was observed that he trembled as he took his seat on the Lower Throne by the Empress Dowager’s side.

The Old Buddha first called on all present to draw near to the Throne; then, speaking with great vehemence, she declared that it was impossible for her to brook these latest indignities put upon her by the foreigners. Her Imperial dignity could not suffer it. Until yesterday, until, in fact, she had read the dispatch addressed to the Tsungli Yamên by the Diplomatic Body, it had been her intention to suppress the Boxers; but in the face of their insolent proposal that she should hand over the reins of government to the Emperor, who had already proved himself quite unfitted to rule, she had been brought to the conclusion that no peaceful solution of the situation was possible. The insolence of the French Consul at Tientsin Tu Shih-lan (Du Chaylard), in demanding the surrender of the Taku Forts was bad enough, but not so grievous an affront as the Ministers’ preposterous proposal to interfere with her personal prerogatives as Sovereign. Her decision was now taken, her mind resolved; not even Jung Lu, to whom she had always looked for wise counsel, could turn her from this purpose. Then, addressing more directly the Chinese present, she bade them all to remember that the rule of her Manchu House had conferred many and great benefits upon the nation for the past two hundred and fifty years, and that the Throne had always held the balance fairly in the benevolent consideration for all its subjects, north and south alike. The Dynasty had scrupulously followed the teachings of the Sages in administering the government; taxation had been lighter than under any previous rulers. Had not the people been relieved, in time of their distress, by grants from the Privy Purse? In her own reign, had not rebellions been suppressed in such a manner as to earn the lasting gratitude of the southern provinces? It was therefore now their duty to rally to the support of the Throne, and to assist it in putting an end, once and for all, to foreign aggression. It had lasted too long. If only the nation were of one mind, it could not be difficult to convince these barbarians that they had mistaken the leniency of the past for weakness. That leniency had been great; in accordance with the principle which prescribes the showing of kindness to strangers from afar, the Imperial House had ever shown them the greatest consideration. The Emperor K’ang Hsi had even allowed them liberty to propagate their religion, an act of mistaken benevolence which had been an increasing cause of regret to his successors. In matters of vital principle, she said, these foreigners ignore the sacred doctrines of the Sages; in matters of detail, they insult the customs and cherished beliefs of the Chinese people. They have trusted in the strength of their arms, but to-day China can rely upon millions of her brave and patriotic volunteers. Are not even striplings taking up arms for the defence of their country? She had always been of the opinion that the allied armies had been permitted to escape too easily in the tenth year of Hsien Feng (1860), and that only a united effort was then necessary to have given China the victory. To-day, at last, the opportunity for revenge had come.

Turning to the Emperor, she asked for his opinion. His Majesty, after a long pause, and with evident hesitation, urged her to follow Jung Lu’s advice, to refrain from attacking the Legations, and to have the foreign Ministers escorted in safety to the coast. But, he added, it must be for her to decide. He could not dare to assume any responsibility in the matter.

The junior Chinese Member of the Council, Chao Shu-ch’iao then spoke. He begged the Old Buddha to issue her orders for the immediate extermination of every foreigner in the interior, so as to avoid the danger of spies reporting on the nature and extent of the patriotic movement. Her Majesty commanded the Grand Council to consider this suggestion and to memorialise in due course for an Edict.

After him, however, each in his turn, the Manchu Li-shan, and the Chinese Hsü Ching-ch’eng and Yüan Ch’ang implored the Empress not to declare war against the whole world. China, they said, could not possibly escape defeat, and, even if the Empire should not be partitioned, there must arise great danger of rebellion and anarchy from within. Yüan Ch’ang even went so far as to say that he had served as a Minister of the Tsungli Yamên for two years and that he had found foreigners to be generally reasonable and just in their dealings. He did not believe in the authenticity of the despatch demanding the Empress’s abdication, which Prince Tuan professed to have received from the Diplomatic Body; in his opinion, it was impossible that the Ministers should have dared to suggest any such interference with China’s internal affairs.