Through it all one man knew how hollow it was, Li Hung Chang. He pleaded for railroads and telegraphs. He bought war ships and ironclads. He urged that the old policy be reversed and the military and naval forces of the empire duly organized. For years he had seen the cloud gathering, and in the great quagmire of Chinese corruption and conservatism sought to make ready for it. It had been in vain. Army, fleet, and court had collapsed. Corea and Manchooria were conquered. If Peking was not occupied it was because Japan wished to leave some semblance of central authority with which to treat. Any war-fine could be levied by the victors; any vassalage exacted of the vanquished. Port Arthur could be made a Gibraltar. The policy of Peking could be controlled by Japan. Japan would dominate the Asiatic seacoast. The Japanese ambassador at Peking would be supreme whenever his government chose to speak.
All this was in the mind of the paralytic old man as he journeyed by land and sea. For forty years he had greatly ruled, a great empire was the greater for his work, and it had all come to this. Were the French tri-color to be near Berlin, and Bismarck wearily seeking peace at Paris, the tragedy were no less than that with Li Hung Chang as its central figure in the east.
Li Hung Chang spent a few days at Tien-tsin, and then passed on down the river to Taku, whence he sailed with his suite on March 15 for Shimonoseki. The viceroy sailed in royal state, with a suite of one hundred and thirty persons in two vessels. On the morning of the 19th they reached their destination in Japan. Shimoneseki is on the extreme southwestern coast of Japan and it was here that in the early '60s the foreign powers forced Japan to assent to certain indemnities demanded of the empire. Upon arriving, the envoy was immediately visited by the representatives of the Japanese foreign office, and later Li Hung Chang accompanied by his American adviser, John W. Foster, visited the Japanese minister of foreign affairs. This was the first time in his life that the venerable statesman of China had ever set his foot on other than Chinese soil.
The viceroy and his party were escorted to the foreign office by Mr. Inouye, who cordially greeted the statesman, and placed his services at his disposal. The party was received on landing by a guard of honor, and was taken to the foreign office in carriages under escort. The following day was spent by the peace envoys in examining each other’s credentials and powers. Both sides devoted much time and thought to this matter and were assisted by experts in matters of diplomacy and etiquette.
The Chinese letter of credential proved to be precisely what might have been expected from Chinese character. The phraseology had been repeatedly discussed through the ministers of the United States in Tokio and Peking and a form satisfactory to Japan agreed upon. Whether intentionally or not the Chinese had given more than one indication of waywardness in preparing the document. They were very particular in honoring their emperor with his proper title but they did not insert that of the emperor of Japan. Moreover they used an expression signifying that it was in consequence of Japan’s desire for peace that an ambassador was sent. This was not allowed to pass uncorrected. As finally amended the paper was virtually in accordance with Japan’s dictation.
In the end all the documents were found to be in due form, and polite notes to this effect were exchanged. Subsequently Li Hung Chang and his suite went ashore.
The viceroy was received with a military salute, and all the honors due to his exalted rank. He proceeded to the chief hotel, where accommodation had been prepared for him and part of his suite. Further communications passed on the morning of March 21, and at half past two in the afternoon the first business conference in connection with the peace negotiations began, Li Hung Chang, Count Ito, Viscount Mutsu, and their secretaries, together with the sworn interpreters being present. The deliberations which were conducted in secret, lasted for an hour and a half. There was much diplomatic fencing, Li Hung Chang being evidently anxious to ascertain at the earliest possible moment the terms upon which an armistice might be granted. Nothing occurred to suggest the possibility of a break down of the negotiations, and some gratifying progress was made towards a general understanding.
It must be remembered that during all this time there was no cessation in the war operations which were going on in Manchooria and on the Chinese coast. Fresh troops were being hurried forward from Japan for active service, and the war spirit gave no sign of subsidence. In Yokohama the success of the peace negotiations was regarded as doubtful. The military element, which was all in favor of the continuance of the war until the victory of the Japanese was made complete by the capture of Peking, had at that time a predominant voice in Japanese politics, and this feeling was reflected in parliament. Notice was given in the house of representatives of a resolution declaring that the time for peace negotiations had not arrived.
While negotiations were thus progressing, they were interrupted by an incident that amazed and shocked the civilized world. As Li Hung Chang was returning to his lodgings on March 24, after having attended a conference with the Japanese peace plenipotentiaries, he was attacked by a young Japanese who sought to murder him. The young man’s name was Koyama Rokunosuki, and he was but twenty-one years of age. The bullet struck the Chinese envoy in the cheek, and it was believed that the result would not be serious. The news of the attempt at assassination created much excitement in Japan, in China, and in the western world. The ministers of state and other officials visited Li Hung Chang without delay, to express their deep sorrow at the occurrence. Every precaution was taken by the police and military to prevent any trouble. The mikado was deeply grieved at the affair, and sent his two chief court physicians, Surgeons Sato and Ishiguro, to attend the Chinese envoy. The bullet entered the cheek half an inch under the left eye, and penetrated to a depth of nearly an inch and a half. The Chinese plenipotentiary strongly objected to undergoing an operation for its removal. The empress of Japan, to show her own regret, sent two nurses to assume the care of the old man, and from every side letters and telegrams of regret and sympathy arrived in great quantities.
Beside the physicians, the mikado sent the imperial chamberlain to convey his condolences to the viceroy, and to the public he issued the following proclamation: