A few days before this Decree, i.e., on the 1st of July, Her Majesty had drafted with her own pen an explanatory decree for the edification of the foreign Powers, recounting how the Throne had been led into its present unpleasant situation. It is interesting to note that, ten days before, she had offered rewards for the heads of foreigners in Peking and had sent orders to Yü Hsien to kill every foreigner in Shansi, which he did. But Tzŭ Hsi had studied her classics and knew from her own experience how easily dissension and jealousies could be created among the barbarians.

“Owing to a succession of most unfortunate circumstances, rapidly and confusedly following each other, we are utterly at a loss to account for the situation which has brought about hostilities between China and the Powers. Our representatives abroad are separated from us by wide seas, and besides have no special knowledge of the facts, and they are therefore unable to explain to the respective Foreign Offices the real state of the Chinese Government’s feelings. We therefore desire now to place before you the following detailed statement of the facts.

“In the Provinces of Chihli and Shantung there has arisen a certain class of disorderly characters who, in their respective villages, have been wont to practise the use of the quarter-staff and pugilism, combining these exercises with certain magic arts and incantations. Owing to the failure of the local Magistrates to detect and stop these proceedings, the result has been that gradually a state of unrest has shown itself throughout that region until, all of a sudden, the Boxer movement assumed serious proportions. They spread even to Peking, where they were regarded as possessed of supernatural powers, so that they gained vast numbers of followers and universal sympathy. Following in their train the disorderly people of the lower sort raised a cry of ‘Death to the Christians!’ following upon which, in the middle of the 5th Moon, they proceeded to carry their words into deeds, and to slaughter the converts. The churches were burned, the whole city was in an uproar, and the population passed completely out of our control.

“When the first rumours of the coming disaster were noised abroad, the Legations asked our consent to bring up special guards, which consent, in view of the special necessities of the case, was readily given. In all some five hundred foreign troops came to Peking, which in itself shows plainly the friendly disposition of the Throne towards all foreign nations. Under ordinary circumstances the foreign Legations and their guards do not come in contact with the local Chinese authorities, and have no relations with them, friendly or otherwise; but since the arrival of these troops, the soldiers have not confined themselves to the duty of protecting the Legations, but have gone upon the city walls and have even patrolled the outlying parts of the capital, with the result that shots have been exchanged and blood has been shed. Indeed, so great are the liberties which they have taken in the course of their walks abroad, that on one occasion they actually endeavoured to force their way into the Forbidden City, which, however, they failed to do. For these reasons great and widespread indignation has been excited against them, and evil-doers have seized the opportunity to commit deeds of slaughter and arson, waxing daily bolder. At this stage the Powers endeavoured to bring up[102] reinforcements from Tientsin, but these were cut to pieces on their journey from the sea, and the attempt was perforce abandoned. By this time the rebels in the two provinces had become so intermingled with the people that it was impossible to identify them. The Throne was by no means averse to give orders for their suppression, but had we acted with undue haste, the result might have been a general conflagration, and our efforts to protect the Legations might have ended in a dire calamity. If we had proceeded to destroy the rebels in the two provinces, no single missionary or native Christian would have been left alive in either, so that we had to proceed cautiously in this dilemma.

“Under these circumstances we were compelled to suggest the temporary withdrawal of the Legations to Tientsin, and we were proceeding to make the necessary arrangements to this end when the German Minister was unfortunately murdered one morning on his way to the Tsungli Yamên. This incident placed the rebel leaders in a desperate position, like that of the man who rides a tiger and who hesitates whether it be more dangerous for him to continue his ride or to jump off. It became then inexpedient that the proposed withdrawal of the Legations to Tientsin should proceed. All we could do we did, which was to enforce urgent measures for the due protection of the Legations in every emergency. To our dismay, on the 16th ultimo, certain foreign naval officers from the squadron outside Taku had an interview with the Commandant of the forts, demanding their surrender, and adding that, if their demand were refused, they would take them by force on the following day. The Commandant was naturally unable to betray the trust confided to him, and the foreigners accordingly bombarded the forts and captured them after a vigorous resistance. A state of war has thus been created, but it is none of our doing; besides, how could China be so utterly foolish, conscious as she is of her weakness, as to declare war on the whole world at once? How could she hope to succeed by using the services of untrained bandits for any such a purpose? This must be obvious to the Powers.

“The above is an accurate statement of our situation, explaining the measures unavoidably forced upon China to meet the situation. Our representatives abroad must carefully explain the tenor of this decree to the Governments to which they are accredited. We are still instructing our military Commanders to protect the Legations, and can only do our best. In the meantime you, our Ministers, must carry on your duties as usual, and not pose as disinterested spectators.”

Supplementing this Decree, the Empress, possibly instigated by some of the master-minds of the Grand Council, proceeded to prepare the way for a time-honoured, and invariably successful, device of Chinese statecraft, namely, the creation of dissension and jealousy between the Powers, and to this end she addressed telegrams to the Emperor of Russia, Queen Victoria, the Emperor of Japan, and other rulers. It is typical of the infantile naïveté of Chinese officials in such matters of foreign policy, that copies of these extraordinary messages, intended solely to mislead public opinion abroad, should have been sent in to the (still besieged) Legations with the cards of Prince Ch’ing, and the Ministers of the Tsungli Yamên.[103] It is certain that these artless telegrams, as well as the conciliatory instructions subsequently sent to China’s representatives abroad, were but the outward and visible signs of Tzŭ Hsi’s inward and spiritual misgivings caused by the fall of the Taku Forts, the capture of the native city of Tientsin, and the massing of the armies of the Allies for the advance on her capital. If possible, she would therefore make friends in advance among the humane, and invariably gullible, sovereigns of Europe, making good use of her knowledge of their little weaknesses in matters of foreign policy, and be ready to pose in due course as the innocent victim of circumstance and fate. But “in the profound seclusion of her Palace” she continued to hope against hope for the Boxers’ promised victories and the fall of the Legations which she was so carefully “protecting.”

And here let us briefly digress. Students of modern Chinese history, desirous of applying its latest lessons to future uses, will no doubt observe, that in advising the Throne either for peace or war, all Chinese and Manchu officials (no matter how good or bad from our point of view, how brave or cowardly, how honest or corrupt) agree and unite in frankly confessing to their hatred of the foreigner and all his works. This sentiment, loudly proclaimed by the simple-minded braggart Boxers, is politely re-echoed by the literati, and voiced with equal candour by the picked men of the Government, men like Yuan Shih-k’ai, Jung Lu, and Liu K’un-yi. Those who pose as the friends of foreigners merely advocate dissimulation as a matter of expediency. The thought should give us pause, not only in accepting at their current value the posturings and pronouncements of the monde diplomatique at Peking, and the reassurances given as to our excellent relations with such-and-such officials, but it should also lead us to consider what are the causes, in us or in them, which produce so constant and so deep a hatred? If we study the Memorials of high Chinese officials for the past fifty years, the same unpleasant feature presents itself at every turn. We may meet with exceptional cases, here and there, like Yüan Ch’ang, who will profess respect for the European, but even his respect will be qualified and never go to the length of intimate friendship. Our perennial gullibility, that faculty which makes the Chinese classical “allurements” invariably successful with the foreigner, accounts, no doubt, to some extent for the Chinese official’s contempt for our intelligence, and for our failure to learn by experience. It is fairly certain that the Boxers of to-morrow will be pooh-poohed (if not applauded) in advance by our Chinese Secretariats, as they were in 1900. But for the Chinese official’s unchanging hostility towards us, no such explanation offers, and it is perhaps, therefore, most satisfactory to our amour propre to assume that his attitude is dictated by feelings similar to those which inspired Demetrius of the Ephesians, ostensibly fearful for the cult of Diana, but in reality disturbed for his own livelihood.