China under the Empress Dowager

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

Facsimile of a Fragment of the Diary.

All the Concubines were summoned to appear before Her Majesty at 3.30 A.M.; she had previously issued a decree that none of them would accompany her for the present. The Pearl Concubine, who has always been insubordinate to the Old Buddha, came with the rest and actually dared to suggest that the Emperor should remain in Peking. The Empress was in no mood for argument. Without a moment’s hesitation, she shouted to the eunuchs on duty, “Throw this wretched minion down the well!” At this the Emperor, who was greatly grieved, fell on his knees in supplication, but the Empress angrily bade him desist, saying that this was no time for bandying words. “Let her die at once,” she said, “as a warning to all undutiful children, and to those ‘hsiao’ birds[95] who, when fledged, peck out their own mother’s eyes.” So the eunuchs Li and Sung took the Pearl Concubine and cast her down the large well which is just outside the Ning Shou Palace.

Then to the Emperor, who stood trembling with grief and wrath, she said: “Get into your cart and hang up the screen, so that you be not recognised” (he was wearing a long gown of black gauze and black cloth trousers). Swiftly then the Old Buddha gave her orders. “P’u Lun, you will ride on the shaft of the Emperor’s cart and look after him. I shall travel in the other cart, and you, P’u Chün (the Heir Apparent) will ride on the shaft. Li Lien-ying, I know you are a poor rider, but you must shift as best you can to keep up with us.” At this critical moment it seemed as if the Old Buddha alone retained her presence of mind. “Drive your hardest,” she said to the carters, “and if any foreign devil should stop you, say nothing. I will speak to them and explain that we are but poor country folk, fleeing to our homes. Go first to the Summer Palace.” Thereupon the carts started, passing out through the northern gate of the Palace (The Gate of Military Prowess) while all the members of the Household and the Imperial Concubines prostrated themselves, wishing their Majesties a long life. Only the three Grand Councillors followed on horseback, a rendezvous having been arranged for other officials at the Summer Palace. My neighbour Wen Lien, the Comptroller of the Household, followed their Majesties at a distance, to see them safely out of the city. They left by the “Te-sheng-men,” or Gate of Victory, on the north-west side of the city, where for a time their carts were blocked in the dense mass of refugees passing out that way.

4 P.M.—The Sacred Chariot of Her Majesty reached the Summer Palace at about 8 A.M. and Their Majesties remained there an hour. Meanwhile, at 6 A.M., Prince Ch’ing, just before starting for the Summer Palace, sent a flag of truce to the Japanese Pigmies who were bombarding the city close to the “Chi Hua” Gate on the east of the city. The gate was thrown open and the troops swarmed in.

My son En Ming was on duty at the Summer Palace with a few of his men, when the Imperial party arrived, all bedraggled and dust-begrimed. The soldiers at the Palace gate could not believe that this was really their Imperial mistress until the Old Buddha angrily asked whether they failed to recognise her. The carts were driven in through the side entrance, and tea was served. Her Majesty gave orders that all curios, valuables, and ornaments were to be packed at once and sent off to Jehol; at the same time she despatched one of the eunuchs to Peking to tell the Empress[96] to bury quickly every scrap of treasure in the Forbidden City, hiding it in the courtyard of the Ning Shou Palace.

The Princes Tuan, Ching, Na, and Su joined Their Majesties at the Summer Palace; a few Dukes were there also, as well as Wu Shu-mei and Pu Hsing of the higher officials. About a dozen Secretaries from the different Boards, and three Clerks to the Grand Council, accompanied the Court from this point. General Ma Yu-k’un, with a force of 1,000 men escorted Their Majesties to Kalgan, and there were, in addition, several hundreds of Prince Tuan’s “Heavenly Tiger” Bannermen, fresh from their fruitless attacks on the Legations. Jung Lu is still endeavouring to rally his troops.

I have just heard of the death of my old friend, Hsü T’ung, the Imperial Tutor and Grand Secretary. He has hanged himself in his house and eighteen of his womenfolk have followed his example. He was a true patriot and a fine scholar. Alas, alas! From all sides I hear the same piteous story; the proudest of the Manchus have come to the same miserable end. The betrothed of Prince Ch’un, whom he was to have married next month, has committed suicide, with all her family. It is indeed pitiful.[97]

Thus, for the second time in her life, the Old Buddha has had to flee from her Sacred City, like the Son of Heaven in the Chou Dynasty, who “fled with dust-covered head.” The failure of the southern provinces to join in the enterprise has ruined us. Prince Tuan was much to blame in being anti-Chinese. As Confucius said, “By the lack of broad-minded tolerance in small matters, a great design has been frustrated.” After all, Jung Lu was right—the Boxers’ so-called magic was nothing but child’s talk. They were in reality no stronger than autumn thistledown. Alas, the bright flower of spring does not bloom twice!