China under the Empress Dowager

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

It was here, at Huai-lai, while the Court was taking a day’s rest, that Wang Wen-shao came up with them. He was cordially, even affectionately, greeted by the Old Buddha, who condoled with him on the hardships to which he had been exposed, and insisted on his sharing her birds’-nest soup, which, she said, he would surely enjoy as much as she had done after so many and great privations. She rebuked the Emperor for not greeting the aged Councillor with warm thanks for his touching devotion to the Throne.

From Huai-lai, Prince Ch’ing was ordered to return to Peking to negotiate terms of peace with the Allies. Knowing the difficulties of this task, he went reluctantly; before leaving he had a long audience with Her Majesty, who assured him of her complete confidence in his ability to make terms, and bade him adopt a policy similar to that of Prince Kung in 1860.

Wang Wen-shao’s account of the first part of the Court’s journey is sufficiently interesting to justify textual reproduction.

“Their Majesties fled from the palace at the dawn of day in common carts. It was only after their arrival at Kuanshih that they were provided with litters. The Emperor and Prince P’u Lun rode on one cart until their arrival at Huai-lai, where the District Magistrate furnished a palanquin, and later on, at Hsüan-hua, four large sedan chairs were found for the Imperial party. It was at this point that the Emperor’s Consort overtook their Majesties.

“So hurried was the flight that no spare clothes had been taken; the Empress Dowager was very shabbily dressed, so as to be almost unrecognisable, the Chinese mode of hair-dressing producing a very remarkable alteration in her appearance. On the first night after leaving Peking, they slept, like travellers of the lowest class, on the raised brick platform of the inn, where not even rice was obtainable for the evening meal, so that they were compelled to eat common porridge made of millet. In all the disasters recorded in history, never has there been such a pitiful spectacle.

“It was only after reaching Huai-lai that their condition improved somewhat, but even then the number of personal attendants and eunuchs was very small, and not a single concubine was there to wait upon the Old Buddha. For the first few days’ flight, neither Prince Li, nor Jung Lu, nor Ch’i Hsiu (all of them Grand Councillors), were in attendance so that Her Majesty nominated Prince Tuan to serve on the Council. She reviled him at the outset severely, reproaching him for the misfortunes which had overtaken the Dynasty, but as time went on, as he shared with her the privations and troubles of the day’s journey, she became more gracious towards him. This was to some extent due to the very great influence which Prince Tuan’s wife exercised at Court.

“When I reached Huai-lai, the Court consisted of the Princes Tuan, Ching, Na, Su, and P’u Lun, with a following of high officials led by Kang Yi, and some twenty Secretaries. General Ma’s troops and some of the Banner Corps of Prince Tuan formed the Imperial escort; and they plundered every town and village on their line of march. This, however, is hardly remarkable, because all the shops had been closed and there were no provisions to be purchased anywhere.

“To go back for a few days. Yü Lu (Viceroy of Chihli) shot himself in a coffin shop at a place south of the Hunting Park, and Li Ping-heng took poison after the defeat of his troops at T’ungchow. The Court’s flight had already been discussed after the first advance of the Allies from T’ungchow towards Peking; but the difficulty in providing sufficient transport was considered insuperable. On the 19th of the Moon a steady cannonade began at about midnight, and, from my house in Magpie Lane, one could note, by the volume of sound, that the attack was steadily advancing closer to the city, and eventually bullets came whistling as thick as hail. The bombardment reached its height at about noon on the 20th, when news was brought that two gates of the Imperial City had been taken by storm. I was unable to verify this report. It was my turn for night duty at the Palace, but after the last audience, I was unable to enter the Forbidden City, as all its gates were barred. It was only at 7 A.M. on the 21st inst. (August 15th) that I was able to gain admittance to the Forbidden City, and then I learned that their Majesties had hurriedly fled. On the previous day five urgent audiences with the Grand Council had been held; at the last of these only Kang Yi, Chao Shu ch’iao, and myself were present. Sadly regarding us, the Old Buddha said, ‘I see there are only three of you left. No doubt all the rest have fled, leaving us, mother and son, to our fate. I want you all to come with me on my journey.’ Turning to me she then said, ‘You are too old. I would not wish you to share in all this hardship. Follow us as best you can later on.’ The Emperor expressed his wishes in the same sense.

“By this time it was nearly midnight, and they still hesitated about leaving the city; judge then of my surprise to learn that, at the first streak of dawn, their Majesties had left the city in indescribable disorder and frantic haste. I could not return to my house that day because all the gates of the Imperial City were closed, but at 10 A.M. on the following day, I made my way out of the Houmen.[104] On my way I came across Jung Lu; he had fainted in his chair, and had been forsaken by his cowardly bearers. He said: ‘This is the end. You and I never believed in these Boxers; see now to what a pass they have brought the Old Buddha. If you see Her Majesty, tell her that I have gone to rally the troops, and that, if I live, I will join her later on.’

“After leaving Jung Lu, I made my way to a little temple which lies midway between the North and the North-West Gates of the city, and there I rested a while. It was the opinion of the Abbot in charge that the foreigners would burn every temple of the city, as all of them had been used by the Boxers for their magic rites, and he said that, in times of dire peril such as this, it was really inconvenient for him to offer any hospitality to visitors. Just at this moment news was brought us that the foreign troops were on the wall of the city, between the two gates nearest to us, and that they were firing down upon the streets; the city was already invested, but the foreigners were not molesting civilians, though they were shooting all ‘braves’ and men in uniform. As the priest declined to receive me, I sought refuge at the house of a man named Han, retainer in the Imperial Household, who lived close by. All my chair-bearers and servants had fled. Shortly after noon I heard that one might still leave Peking by the Hsi-chih Men; so leaving everything—carts, chairs, and animals—where they were, I started off at dusk on foot with such money and clothing as I had on my person. The road ahead of me was blocked by a dense crowd of refugees. I took the road by the Drum Tower, skirting the lakes to the north of the Imperial City. Towards evening a dreadful thunderstorm came on, so I took refuge for the night with the Ching family. The bombardment had ceased by this time, but the whole northern part of the Imperial City appeared to be in flames, which broke out in fresh places all through the night. At three in the morning we heard that the West Gates were opened, and that the City Guards had fled, but that the foreigners had not yet reached that part of the city.