The situation was made worse by an Anglo-Russian railway agreement of April 28, 1899. The origin of this document belongs to the history of China. It suffices here to point out that it provided that Great Britain should not seek any railway concession north of the Great Wall, and Russia should observe the same principle in the Yang-tse basin. The peculiarity of this agreement consists in the fact that one of its signatories was not, as usual, the Chinese government, but that two European powers thereby pledged themselves not to infringe upon each other's sphere of railroad concession in China. Diplomatic exigencies might (as they have since done beyond the wall) induce one of the parties to interpret the railroad sphere in the light of a political sphere.

The peculiarly favorable position of the United States rendered it both possible and desirable for her to maintain in China the principles of the territorial integrity of the empire and of the equal opportunity therein for the economic enterprise of all nations—the latter principle often called that of the "open door." Between the end of 1899 and the beginning of 1900 Secretary Hay induced the great powers, though with nominal success, to declare anew that they would observe the avowed policy of the "open door" in their respective spheres in China. He had, however, hardly received the replies of the powers when the reports of an anti-foreign campaign of an unusually serious character began to arrive from China. The story of the so-called Boxer uprising, with its thrilling episodes, will be told in the volume on China, and here it is enough for us to observe its two features, namely, Japan's share in the suppression of the trouble, and the bearing of the latter upon the Manchurian question.

By the middle of June, 1900, the representatives of twelve powers, as well as many other foreigners and native Christians, had already found themselves besieged in Peking and gallantly defending themselves against the frequent attacks of the Boxers and imperial troops; Admiral Seymour and his twelve hundred marines had already found it impossible to force their way to the relief of the besieged foreigners. At this juncture the government of Great Britain perceived that no other power could with greater dispatch and success come to the rescue of the legations than Japan. The latter, however, had resolved to act only in concert with other powers, or, if alone, only at their united and explicit request. She therefore contented herself with transporting 3000 soldiers for Taku to move strictly in unison with the forces of the other allies. The negotiation carried on by Lord Salisbury with the continental governments in relation to the advisability of requesting Japan immediately to mobilize 25,000 or 30,000 troops from her shores had resulted, early in July, in evoking from Germany a dissent from the proposition so long as the allies could act in harmony, and from Russia a reply that she deemed it unwise to intrust a single power with the restoration of order in China, but that she would welcome 20,000 or 30,000 additional troops from any one of the powers which would move in perfect accord with the others. Impatient of the dilatory and indefinite replies, the British government went so far as to guarantee on its own responsibility the cost of mobilizing the desired number of troops from Japan. This was on July 6, and on the same day Japan at last resolved to dispatch, with no condition whatsoever from the other powers, troops aggregating 22,000. By this time the Japanese Chancellor Sugiyama and the German Minister von Ketteler had been murdered in Peking, the Taku forts had been taken by the allies, and the prospect had been that both the British and the German forces would soon aggregate 10,000 men. Tientsin fell before the allies on July 14, three days before the arrival of the fresh troops from Japan. After three weeks at Tientsin during which nothing could be done, 15,780 allied forces, of which 8000 were the Japanese, began to march toward Peking on August 4. All along the way there were sanguinary encounters with the Boxers and Chinese troops, so that the allies probably lost 800 men before they reached Peking on August 14. The Japanese soldiers, after a terrible battle lasting for nearly fifteen hours till 9.50 P. M., bombarded the eastern walls at two of the gates and rushed into the Forbidden City, while previously a column dispatched by them had led the rest of the allied forces toward the British legation through the gate which the Russians had exploded about 5 P. M. With what wild burst of joy and enthusiasm the foreigners, who had been defending themselves under unspeakable difficulties within the walls of the British legation, received the triumphant entry of the allied soldiers may better be imagined than told. The siege had at length been raised, the imperial court had fled toward Si-ngan, and the capital of China fell into the hands of the powers.

It is unnecessary to remind the reader that all during this memorable campaign the Japanese soldiers won universal praise for their dash and discipline. With no less admiration were their commissariat system and method of transportation regarded by their comrades. Repeatedly was it seen by impartial observers that even in orderliness among themselves and just and moderate treatment of the non-combatants, the troops of the non-Christian Japan were behind those of no Christian country then represented in North China. They excelled also in the power of organization and control in their dealings with the people of Peking, who had come under the provisional government of the conquering powers. All these merits were externally visible, but only the Japanese soldier himself will know what burning love of his country's name, which he carried deep in his bosom, animated him with courage and patience and bridled his animal passion. He marched shoulder to shoulder with the troops of the powers, three of which had five years before treated his country with indignity and forced her to forsake the price of the blood of her sons only to appropriate it for themselves. He could now show them that he had not been forever reduced by them into an insignificant position, but, on the contrary, had advanced beyond his former degree of military efficiency, and could vie with any one of them either in the art of war or in the moral qualities that constitute the modern soldier. His experience was invaluable both in training his mind and body and in demonstrating anew that, after all, his racial identity was hardly a bar against his full participation in the arts of civilization. As precious for his country may be regarded the fact that her position in the East rose, through the North China campaign, considerably higher in the esteem of the powers than even after the Chinese war of 1894-1895. Otherwise the Anglo-Japanese alliance of 1902 probably would not have been so soon formed. Nor could Japan have since proceeded with her national activities with such a calm confidence.

How far Japan had outrun in the march of national progress her neighboring empire of China, whose disciple she once was, was strikingly illustrated by the telegraphic messages that the emperors of the two nations exchanged both before and after the capture of Peking. Nor can a stronger refutation of the oft-repeated theory that one day Japan will revive the moribund China and form with her a pan-"yellow" alliance powerful enough to exclude the Caucasian influence from the Orient, be found than in the comparison of the Chinese epistles and the Japanese replies in which both emperors faithfully expressed the attitude of their respective nations. On July 3, or half a month after the fall of the Taku forts, his majesty the emperor of China telegraphed a personal message to the Japanese emperor in which he laid great stress upon the idea that in the present rivalry between the East and the West, the former was supported by only two nations, the Chinese and the Japanese. Could it be China alone that the Occidental powers covet with their tiger's eye? "If China should fall," said his majesty, "perhaps your country would be unable to stand alone." On the strength of this argument, the Son of Heaven made an earnest appeal to his fellow-sovereign to sink minor differences and rescue the Orient from the impending crisis. To this remarkable communication responded the emperor of Japan, saying that he considered it incumbent upon China immediately to suppress the internal disorder and save the foreign envoys, whose persons were inviolable, and that after the restoration of normal order by China's own efforts Japan would, during the negotiations of the powers, safeguard the interests of the great empire. The author of the original message may have thought Japan a renegade of the Orient, but the reply of the latter's sovereign implied her irrevocable policy of acting upon the dictates of the most advanced standards of mankind—a policy which is infinitely removed from the defensive position of one form of civilization or one section of the earth's surface as over against another. Nearly three months later, on September 24, the Chinese emperor again communicated from Ta-yuan to the Japanese sovereign his sense of gratitude for the work of the latter's soldiers, and solicited his persuasion of the other powers to expedite the conclusion of peace. In reply, Japan's ruler suggested that peace would follow if the court should at once return to Peking, calm the minds of the people, and manifest to the powers its sincere regrets for the recent outrages, and also if the reactionary ministers were removed from office and a new government was organized of men whose ability was universally recognized.

It was after a number of conferences that, on November 9, the peace commissioners at Peking came to the final conclusion regarding the terms of peace, which were reduced into an identical note two months later. This protracted period of negotiation was mainly due to the difficulty of maintaining a strict harmony between the several powers on all points under discussion. We cannot tarry over the details of the discussion, for they properly belong to the history of China. Nor need we point out the exact contributions that Japan made toward the peace settlement, which were in the main of a moderating character. Of the indemnity, amounting to 450 million Hai-kuan taels ($333,900,000), Japan shared about 7.73 per cent. Previous to the conclusion of peace an incident occurred at Amoy which has caused misunderstanding in certain quarters. On August 24 a mob burned a Japanese Buddhist building in the city, upon which some Japanese bluejackets were landed to protect the consulate and the resident subjects of Japan. More marines were later landed, and still more were reported to be coming via Formosa. A widespread rumor ensued that Japan was bent on the occupation of Amoy, and the consternation among the citizens ran so high that the local taotai, together with a large number of literati and wealthy merchants, made a personal appeal to the Japanese consul to evacuate, themselves pleading to indemnify the burned building and the landing of the marines. In the meantime a British and a German war vessel had arrived, and the Japanese reinforcements bound for Amoy had been recalled from Formosa. The people who had unnecessarily dreaded the presence of the Japanese forces now began to manifest contempt of the Japanese residents in Amoy, whose position was imagined to have suddenly fallen at the coming of the foreign marines. A general evacuation soon followed the restoration of order, leaving the status of the Japanese in the city much the same as before the incident. Although it can hardly be concealed that some of the Japanese residing in Fuh-kien and Formosa were at the time animated by a certain degree of chauvinism, the intentions of the government at Tōkyō could not have been but entirely pacific.

Perhaps in no other instance have the powers more repeatedly and unequivocally given expression to their avowed devotion to the doctrine of the territorial integrity and the open door in China than during and after the Boxer insurrection. Not the least clear declarations came from Russia, whose conduct, however, could at least as well be explained by another principle which she has persistently denied. Facts would lead one to suppose that she at first regarded the trouble in North China as slight enough to die of its own inanity or be readily suppressed by the assistance of herself alone. Count Muraviev, the Russian foreign minister, even prophesied that order would be restored within two weeks. The serious nature of the uprising, however, soon made it evident that it hardly was an occasion for any single power thus to ingratiate itself with the helpless Chinese government. Russia hence joined the concert of the powers in the march toward Peking, but at least some of her press and authors continued to regard her joint action with the allies as rather incidental, for, according to their opinion, the trouble had been caused by the offensive acts of the other powers in China in which Russia had had no share. Subsequent events show, however, that, if she attached a relatively small importance to the conditions in North China, Russia at the same time grasped the Manchurian situation with great celerity and vigor. It is impossible to judge from our present state of knowledge whether the aggressive attitude of Russia in Manchuria preceded or followed the appearance of threatening signs of danger against her interests in that territory. Most of the actual troubles, however, seem to have occurred after Russia had suddenly assumed, from June 26 on, a belligerent movement in Manchuria on a vast scale which was to cost her in the end no less than sixty-two million rubles.[1] In a few days adjoining regions in Siberia were declared as in a state of war, and troops from Vladivostok, Khabarovsk, Blagovestchensk, and the Trans-Baikalia, as well as from European Russia, began to press into Manchuria. It is as unnecessary as impossible to mark at each point of the widespread warfare that followed whether the initiative was taken by the Chinese or by the Russians. It is evident that some strategic points in Manchuria had already been infested by the Boxers and their sympathizers, who set about from what time is not known, obstructing and damaging railroad construction, attacking the churches, and persecuting the converts in the southern region, and, on July 16, bombarding the Russian city of Blagovestchensk across the Amur, the navigation of which was consequently stopped, and a week later murdering some eighty Russians in An-tung near the Korean border. Other outrages followed as the Russian aggression excited more resentment among the Chinese. The forces of the tsar occupied the open port of Niu-chwang, where on August 5 they organized a provisional government. The Russian possession of Niu-chwang was followed, before the allies entered into Peking, by that of Hun-chun, Argun, Harbin, Aigun, San-sin, and other centers scattered over the surface of Manchuria, while in July the dismissal by the Chinese government of the Chinese manager of the Manchurian railroad which had hitherto been partly under the nominal control of China, left the Russians in full and sole possession.

Thus far Russia had no more subdued all Manchuria than the allies had restored order in North China, and the tsar's government surprised the other powers, on August 25, only ten days after the rescue of the legations in Peking, by declaring Russia's intention to withdraw her minister and troops from Peking. It was thought by observers, and freely admitted by some Russian writers, that this unexpected move by Russia was by no means out of the line of her traditional policy of conferring favor upon the neighbor whose house should as long as possible be left in a state of confusion and disorder. The proposition was deemed none the less as acceptable in principle as impracticable in detail at that early date. In regard to Manchuria, the same Russian circular of August 25 declared that evacuation would occur as soon as peace was permanently restored and measures were taken to protect the railways, and other powers threw no obstacle in the way. It was soon seen, however, that the armed pacification of Manchuria could not so abruptly stop. On the contrary, the occupation of many strategic points, including Ninguta, Tsitsihar, Mukden, Kin-chow, and An-tung, was yet to come, until early in December the entire three eastern provinces had completely fallen into the hands of the Russians.

It was doubtless with a grave apprehension of this Manchurian situation that Great Britain had induced Germany to sign, on October 16, 1900, the ill-fated Anglo-German agreement. It sought to effect a difficult combination of three principles not easily reconcilable with one another: the integrity of the remaining territory of China, an open door, and equal advantage to men of all nations in the trading ports and marts, and the protection of the interest already acquired in China by the signatories. The strength of the combination was further reduced by the manner in which the first and the third principles were upheld in the agreement, which declared that neither power would make use of the present complication to acquire any territorial advantages, but that if another power should act contrary to this view, then the signatories might consult together as to the measures of protecting their own interests. At their invitation to accept the principles of the agreement, Russia, as well as France, cleverly replied that they saw therein nothing other than the same old principles which they had repeatedly advocated, while the United States expressed assent to the first two of the principles, but deemed the third as not concerning her. Japan entered the agreement as a signatory. Judged from the very purpose for which the document had been framed by Great Britain, the agreement may be said to have ended in a failure, for what was the use of reiterating the first principle if Manchuria was not considered a part of the Chinese territory, whose integrity was thereby respected? Yet Count von Bülow, imperial chancellor of Germany, said in the Reichstag on March 15, 1901, as he again did toward the end of 1903, that the Anglo-German agreement had no reference to Manchuria. "I can imagine nothing," he was reported to have said, "which we regard with more indifference" than Manchuria. "The Yang-tse agreement" was the name given to the document by the Germans, who were pleased to interpret it as applying with particular force, not to Manchuria, but to the British sphere in the basin of the great river which had always been an eyesore to Germany. With one of the contracting parties at variance with the very aim of the agreement, it was useless for the marquis of Lansdowne to declare, on August 6, 1901, that it "most unquestionably extended to Manchuria, which was part of the Chinese empire." It is to be doubted that the convention had exerted the slightest influence in staying the hand of Russia in the three eastern provinces.

Toward the close of 1900 appeared in the London Times a dispatch from its Peking correspondent, Dr. George E. Morrison, containing the contents of a secret treaty alleged to have been concluded in November between Tsang-chi, the Tartar-general at Mukden, and Admiral Alexiev, which stipulated that Tsang should pacify Manchuria and then report the detail of his administration of the territory to a Russian resident to be stationed at Mukden. This convention was not ratified either by the tsar or by the Son of Heaven. This was merely a prelude to a more serious development. Early in 1901, when the peace commissioners at Peking were discussing the matter of the punishment to be demanded of China for the local officials who had been privy to the Boxer outrages, Russia showed signs of isolating herself from the concert of the powers and taking side with the Chinese sentiment. This characteristic action of the Russians was accompanied by the rumor of negotiations for a secret convention carried on at St. Petersburg between the government of the tsar and the Chinese minister. Of this supposed convention several versions were afloat, some of which would have one believe that in its scope were comprised, not only Manchuria, but also Ili, the New Territory, Mongolia, and the provinces of Kan-su, Shen-si, and Shan-si, as Russian spheres of one sort or another. Either in its truer form or after some concession on the Russian part, the secret treaty, as it was more definitely known, was said to have contained the following eight points, which are worthy of enumeration as showing at least some of the original intentions Russia had regarding Manchuria: 1, that Russia should continue the military occupation of Manchuria pending the restoration of order and the settlement of the question of war indemnity; 2, that China should consult Russia as to where and how many Chinese troops might be stationed in Manchuria; 3, that China should at any time dismiss at Russia's request those Manchurian generals and other officials whose conduct was deemed prejudicial to mutual amity; 4, that the number of the Chinese police should also be determined by consulting Russia, and the use of artillery should be forbidden; 5, that there should be organized a special official system for the neutral territory already marked; 6, that no railway or mining concession in Manchuria should be granted to citizens of any other nation without consulting Russia; 7, that the railroad indemnity should, through an agreement made with the railway company, be wholly or in part paid by the profit of the roads; and 8, that Russia should be allowed to construct a branch line from the Manchurian railway to the Great Wall. The result of these demands, were they real and had China granted them, would have been a complete Russian protectorate over Manchuria, for although it was made to imply that the military occupation of Manchuria should cease with the restoration of peace, such concessions were demanded as would tend to perpetuate the Russian control of the territory. Japan first saw the gravity of the situation, and communicated about the matter with the United States and Great Britain. The last power consulted other powers. The powers thus assumed a united front in warning China of the unwisdom of concluding with a single power before she had reached a common agreement with all the allies. The protest, however, bore no appreciable effect upon Russia, which persisted in avowing that the intended agreement was unlike the one reported in the press, but was merely a provisional step toward the evacuation of Manchuria. Before the end of March, Japan and Great Britain directly communicated with Russia, which adroitly retorted to the latter that it was not customary with the tsar's government to show to a third power a treaty to be concluded with an independent nation. To Japan's request to submit the agreement to the discussion of the allied powers' commissioners at Peking, with whom all matters concerning the late complication should rest, Russia replied that the intended treaty contained injury to none and might well be made public after conclusion. This reply was dated March 26. On April 5 Japan forwarded to Russia her second message, supported by a firm determination. Russia now suddenly withdrew her demands, declaring at the same time that, owing to the obstruction placed in the way of effecting the first move preliminary to the eventual evacuation of Manchuria, she was obliged to maintain for the present the military occupation of its provinces.