In the costume given her by the Empress-Dowager of China when Miss
Carl painted her portrait for the St. Louis Exhibition.]
At last the officials discovered where he was—he had fled with the Court but stopped en route—urged him to come back, and he came. I believe one of the first things he did was to send for the I.G., whom he greeted with great cordiality. "This is China's oldest friend," he said to the officials standing by, "and I rely on him to help us. Indeed I can remember, as if it was yesterday, when we worked together before on the Franco-Chinese negotiations in 1885."
The meeting was a memorable and decisive one. As the Chinese themselves knew, and as the I.G. agreed, there were but two ways of solving the difficulty before them. Either it must be fought out—and the fact that China's military strength could not arrest the steps of the foreign troops, and that a fort-night sufficed for them to march victoriously from the sea to Peking, was in itself sufficient to show that nothing could be hoped from the noble idea of "no surrender"—or at all costs some peaceful arrangement must be made.
A note was accordingly drawn up requesting the doyen of the Diplomatic Corps to fix a day to receive the Chinese Plenipotentiaries, who "were ready to begin negotiations and had prepared a proposal for discussion," which they enclosed. A bold stroke this, and rather a surprise to the diplomats, who marvelled that the Chinese—injuring parties as they were—should have the courage—let us call it so, for there was truly much admirable bravery in it—to take the first step.
The details of the subsequent negotiations would fill pages. How anxiously Li Hung Chang was waited for; how memorandum after memorandum was drawn up, altered, amended, discarded altogether; how the stricken city was gradually calmed, and traders induced to bring in supplies again; how the poor ladies, wives of four Emperors, who had been left behind in the palace almost starved to death when the international troops guarding the Forbidden City forbade all ingress and egress through the pink gates, until the I.G. saved them, in the nick of time, by applying to the Allied Generals, might be told at length.
But a busy age has little patience with details, however romantic—suffice it to say that negotiations continued by fits and starts. What really complicated them was the absence of the Court! The I.G. frankly wrote as much to the Grand Secretary, Wang Wên Shao, and in so doing he only voiced the general feeling that "at such a time of suffering it would be well for the Emperor to be with his people." Prince Ching willingly testified that. Though he had been back ten days he had not suffered any personal indignity, and hinted that, were the Emperor to return, he would, of course, meet with even greater consideration. But the Court was obstinate. While the Palace was in the hands of foreign troops they would not come—and so, for the time, the negotiators had to get on as best they could without their Imperial masters.
Only for a time, however. Then what persuasion had been unable to accomplish was brought about by a natural calamity. Famine broke out in the province of Shênsi, and the Court suffered greatly in the devastated state of the country and the cramped and uncomfortable quarters of a Governor's yamên. Soon they were as desirous of returning to their capital as they had formerly been reluctant to do so. "Hurry up the negotiations at all costs" were the orders sent to the Plenipotentiaries, and hurry they did, so that by December a settlement was within sight, the two most difficult questions—those dealing with penalties and indemnities—being the last arranged.
The first named long caused embarrassment to the Chinese side and greatly worried everybody, for there seemed no possible way to compromise about it. The last ultimately resolved itself into the simple problem not whether China would or would not pay, but what she would pay with. Tariff Revision was suggested as one method, the taxation of native opium as another. Speaking of the latter, the I.G. one day remarked to Prince Ching, "I lost all my memoranda about it when the Inspectorate was burned down." "But you have your wonderful memory," the Prince replied, "and you must carry it through. I count upon you, remember."
On Christmas Eve (1900) a great meeting was held at the Spanish Legation—the Spanish Minister was doyen of the Diplomatic Corps at the time. All the Ministers then assembled to meet Prince Ching and Li and to hand over the final demands they had formulated. They were signed in French that same day, and the next telegraphed in Chinese word for word to the Court at Si-an.
Strange to say the I.G. was not present at the meeting, and therefore reaped none of the kudos for his hard work. It was not for lack of invitation, however. The Chinese certainly urged him to come. Li Hung Chang, for instance, spoke continually of what he had done, and not an official but was sincerely grateful and would gladly have pushed him forward. A vainer man, a lighter character, must have yielded to the temptation to satisfy his vanity, but he had the strength to refuse, saying, "Being a foreigner, my presence would only complicate matters."