Chapter XIX: Sidelights on Tzŭ Hsi’s Statecraft

Yüan Chang and Hsü Ch’ing-ch’eng were not alone in warning Her Majesty of the danger and folly of her Boxer proclivities. At the beginning of the crisis Liu K’un-yi, the aged Viceroy of Nanking, sorely distressed at the suicidal policy into which she had been led, wrote and despatched, by telegram and swift couriers, a Memorial, in which he implored her to put a stop to the attacks on the Legations. Tzŭ Hsi’s reply to this document clearly reveals the indecision which characterised her at this period, her hopes of revenge on the hated foreigner struggling ever with her fears of impending disaster. The diary of Ching Shan has shown us the woman under the fierce stress of her conflicting emotions and swiftly-changing impulses, of those moods which found their alternating expression in the ebb and flow of the struggle around the Legations for more than a month after she had received and answered the southern Viceroy’s Memorial. Of his unswerving loyalty she had no more doubt than of that of Jung Lu, and his ripe wisdom had stood her in good stead these many years. Nevertheless, his advice could not turn her from the path of revenge, from her dreams of power unrestrained. All it could effect, aided, no doubt, by the tidings of the Allies’ capture of the Taku Forts, was to cause her to prepare possible by-paths and bolt-holes of escape and exoneration. To this end she addressed direct appeals, a tissue of artless fabrications, to the Sovereigns and chief rulers of the Great Powers, and proceeded next to display her sympathy with the besieged Ministers in the Legations by presents of fruits and vegetables, to which she subsequently referred with pride as convincing proof of her good faith and goodwill. Her Majesty, in fact, was induced to hedge, while never abandoning hope that Prince Tuan and his Boxers would make good their boast and drive the barbarians into the sea.

The Viceroy’s Memorial is chiefly interesting as an example of that chief and unalterable sentiment which actuates the Chinese _literati_ and has been one of the strongest pillars of Manchu rule, namely, that the Emperor is infallible, a sentiment based on the fact that complete and unquestioning loyalty to the Throne is the essential cornerstone of the whole fabric of Confucian morality, filial piety, and ancestral worship. While deprecating the Imperial folly, the Viceroy is therefore compelled to ascribe it to everyone but Her Majesty, and to praise the Imperial wisdom and benevolence.

His Memorial is as follows:—

“The present war is due to bandits spreading slaughter
and arson on the pretext of paying off a grudge against
Christianity; thus we are face to face with a serious crisis.
The Powers are uniting to send troops and squadrons to attack
China on the plea of protecting their subjects and suppressing
this rebellion. Our position is critical and the provinces
are naturally bound to look now to their defences. I have
already made the necessary preparations, so that if those
hordes of foreigners do invade us, we shall resist them with
all our might. I feel that our Sovereigns are displaying
glorious virtue and that your Majesties are as bountiful as the
Almighty. Your indulgence to the men from afar indicates the
boundless magnanimity and good faith which animate all your
actions.

“At present, the first essential is to make the Throne’s
embarrassments, which have led up to the present situation,
widely known, as well as the quality of consistent kindness
with which you are imbued. By so doing, rebels will be deprived
of any pretext for further rioting.

“At the beginning of the war, my colleagues and I issued a
proclamation bidding the people go about their avocations as
usual, and not to give heed to suspicious rumours. A petition
has now reached me from Chinese residents abroad to urge
effective protection for foreigners in China, so that there may
be no risk of revenge being taken on themselves. The language
used is very strong, and we have taken advantage of the visit
of the foreign Consuls, who suggested certain measures for
the protection of missionaries and merchants, to give orders
to the Shanghai Taotai to come to an arrangement with them in
regard to the preservation of peace in the Yangtsze valley,
and at Soochow and Hangchow. This arrangement will hold good
so long as they do not invade the region in question. The
Consuls have telegraphed to their respective Governments, and
I to our Ministers abroad, explaining fully this arrangement.
The Germans, owing to the murder of their Minister, were
disposed to oppose it, but finally, under compulsion from their
colleagues, gave their consent also.

“I respectfully quote your Majesties’ decree of the 29th of
the 5th Moon (June 25th): ‘The foreign Ministers are now in a
desperately dangerous position; we are still doing our best to
protect them.’ The decree proceeds to direct us to guard well
our respective provinces and to take such steps as policy may
dictate at this emergency. Again, on the 3rd of the 6th Moon
(June 29th), your decree to our Ministers abroad states ‘We are
now sending troops to protect the Legations, but we are weak
and can only do our best. You are to carry on the business of
your missions abroad as usual.’

“In other words, the Throne is inflicting stern and exemplary
punishment on those foreigners in Tientsin who provoked
hostilities, while doing its utmost to protect those innocent
foreign officials, merchants and missionaries who were not
responsible for those attacks. Your benevolence and the majesty
of your wrath are displayed simultaneously, manifested as
brightly as the sun and moon.

“We have again and again implored you to protect the foreign
Ministers: this is the one all-important step which must on no
account be deferred a day, not only because your Majesties’ own
anxiety recognises its necessity, but because the crisis now
forces it upon you.

“The Ministers abroad, Yang Ju and his colleagues, have
telegraphed to the effect that our first duty is to protect the
lives of the foreign Ministers and of all foreigners in China.
I therefore humbly ask you to send competent troops to protect
the Legations in Peking, and by so doing to protect the lives
of your own Envoys abroad. I also urge you to instruct the
provincial authorities to protect all foreigners within their
respective jurisdictions, and thereby to protect our Chinese
subjects residing in foreign lands. My anxiety is intense.”

To this memorial Tzŭ Hsi replied, by express courier and telegram, as follows:

“Your memorial has reached us. The Throne was reluctant
lightly to enter upon hostilities, as we have already informed
the several foreign Governments and the various provincial
authorities. We have also issued several decrees ordering
protection for the Ministers and foreign residents all over
China. Hence our ideas seem to be identical with your own.[101]
Happily all the Ministers, except Baron von Ketteler, are
perfectly well and quite comfortable; only a day or two ago we
sent them presents of fruits and viands, in order to show our
commiseration. If the Powers now dare to invade your provinces,
you must all protect your territories and resist with all your
might. Even though at the moment peace may prevail, you must
make most strenuous preparations against possible emergencies.
In a word, we will not willingly be the aggressors. You are
to inform our various Legations abroad of our calm and kindly
feelings towards all foreigners, so that they may think out
some plan of a peaceful settlement, in the general interest.
It is highly desirable that you give no ready ear to vague
rumours which are calculated only to lead to further lack of
unity. This decree is to be conveyed by special courier, at six
hundred _li_ (two hundred miles) a day.”

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.

To return. The following are translations of the telegrams sent under date 3rd July, by order of the Empress Dowager, to the Emperor of Russia, Queen Victoria, and the Emperor of Japan. The text of those which were sent at the same time to the Presidents of the French and American Republics, and which were dated, curiously enough, on the 19th of June (the Taku Forts fell on the 16th), have been published in Monsieur Cordier’s most accurate and painstaking work, _Les Relations de la Chine_, Vol. III.

Telegram dated 3rd July:—

“To the Emperor of Russia:—Greeting to your Majesty! For over
two hundred and fifty years our neighbouring Empires have
enjoyed unbroken relations of friendship, more cordial than
those existing between any other Powers.

“Recent ill-feeling created between converts to Christianity
and the rest of our people have afforded an opportunity to
evil-disposed persons and rebels to create disturbances,
and the result has been that the foreign Powers have been
led to believe that the Throne itself is a party to their
proceedings and is hostile to Christianity. Your Majesty’s
representative at my Court (M. de Giers) has actually requested
our Foreign Office to suppress the rebellion and thus to allay
the suspicions of the Powers. But at the time that he made
this request, Peking was thoroughly infested with rebels, who
had stirred up the people and gained for themselves no small
prestige. Not only our soldiery but the mass of the people were
burning for revenge against those who practised the foreign
religion, and even certain Princes of our Imperial Clan joined
in the movement, declaring that there was no room in the
Celestial Kingdom for Christianity and the ancient religions
of the soil. My chief anxiety has been lest any precipitate
action on the part of the Government might lead to some dire
catastrophe (_i.e._, the destruction of the Legations), and
I feared, too, that the anti-foreign movement might break
out simultaneously at the Treaty Ports in the South, which
would have made the position hopeless. I was doing my utmost
to find a way out of the dilemma when the foreign Powers,
evidently failing to realise the difficulties of our situation,
precipitated matters by the bombardment and capture of the
Taku Forts: now we are confronted with all the dire calamities
of war, and the confusion in our Empire is greater than ever
before. Amongst all the Powers, none has enjoyed such friendly
relations with China as Russia. On a former occasion I deputed
Li Hung-chang to proceed to your Majesty’s capital as my
special Envoy; he drew up on our behalf and concluded with your
country a secret Treaty of Alliance, which is duly recorded in
the Imperial Archives.

“And now that China has incurred the enmity of the civilised
world by stress of circumstances beyond our power to control,
I must perforce rely upon your country to act as intermediary
and peacemaker on our behalf. I now make this earnest and
sincere appeal to your Majesty, begging that you may be
pleased to come forward as arbitrator, and thus to relieve
the difficulties of our situation. We await with anxiety your
gracious reply.”

On the same day the Empress Dowager addressed Her Majesty Queen Victoria in a telegram which was sent in the Emperor’s name and forwarded through the Chinese Minister in London. Its text runs as follows:—

“To your Majesty, greeting!—In all the dealings of England with
the Empire of China, since first relations were established
between us, there has never been any idea of territorial
aggrandisement on the part of Great Britain, but only a keen
desire to promote the interests of her trade. Reflecting on
the fact that our country is now plunged into a dreadful
condition of warfare, we bear in mind that a large proportion
of China’s trade, seventy or eighty per cent., is done with
England: moreover, your Customs duties are the lightest in the
world, and few restrictions are made at your sea-ports in the
matter of foreign importations; for these reasons our amicable
relations with British merchants at our Treaty Ports have
continued unbroken for the last half century, to our mutual
benefit.

“But a sudden change has now occurred and general suspicion
has been created against us. We would therefore ask you
now to consider that if, by any conceivable combination of
circumstances, the independence of our Empire should be lost,
and the Powers unite to carry out their long plotted schemes
to possess themselves of our territory, the results to your
country’s interests would be disastrous and fatal to your
trade. At this moment our Empire is striving to the utmost to
raise an army and funds sufficient for its protection; in the
meanwhile we rely upon your good services to act as mediator,
and now anxiously await your decision.”

Again, in the name of the Emperor and through the Chinese Minister at Tokio, the following message was addressed to the Emperor of Japan:—

“To your Majesty, greeting!—The Empires of China and Japan
hang together, even as the lips and the teeth, and the
relations existing between them have always been sympathetic.
Last month we were plunged in deep grief when we learned of
the murder of the Chancellor of your Legation in Peking; we
were about to arrest and punish the culprits when the Powers,
unnecessarily suspicious of our motives, seized the Taku Forts,
and we found ourselves involved in all the horrors of war. In
face of the existing situation, it appears to us that at the
present time the Continents of Europe and Asia are opposed
to each other, marshalling their forces for a conflict of
irreconcilable ambitions; everything therefore depends upon our
two Asiatic Empires standing firm together at this juncture.
The earth-hungry Powers of the West, whose tigerish eyes of
greed are fixed in our direction, will certainly not confine
their attention to China. In the event of our Empire being
broken up, Japan in her turn will assuredly be hard pressed
to maintain her independence. The community of our interests
renders it clearly imperative that at this crisis we should
disregard all trifling causes of discord, and consider only the
requirements of the situation, as comrade nations. We rely upon
your Majesty to come forward as arbitrator, and anxiously await
your gracious reply to this appeal.”

These remarkable effusions have been inscribed in the annals of the Dynasty, by order of Her Majesty, those same annals from which all her Boxer Edicts have been solemnly expunged for purposes of historic accuracy. One cannot but hope that, in process of time, consideration of facts like these may cure European diplomacy and officialdom generally of its unreasoning reverence for the Chinese written character, a species of fetish-worship imbibed from the native pundit and aggravated by the sense of importance which knowledge of this ancient language so frequently confers.

These Imperial messages throw into strong relief the elementary simplicity of China’s foreign policy, a quality which foreigners frequently misunderstand, in the general belief that the Oriental mind conceals great depths of subtlety and secret information. Looking at these documents in the light of the known facts of China’s political situation at that moment, and stripping them of all artificial glamour, it becomes almost inconceivable that any Government should publish to the world and file in its archives such puerile productions. But it is frequently the case that this very kindergarten element in Chinese politics is a stumbling-block to the elaborate and highly specialised machinery of European diplomacy, and that, being at a loss how to deal with the suspiciously transparent artifices of the elderly children of the Waiwupu, the foreigner excuses and consoles himself by attributing to them occult faculties and resources of a very high order. If one must be continually worsted, it is perhaps not unwise to attribute to one’s adversary the qualities of Macchiavelli, Talleyrand and Metternich combined. As far as British interests are concerned, one of the chief lessons emphasised by the events of the past ten years in China is, that the reform of our diplomatic machinery (and particularly of the Consular service) is urgently needed, a reform for which more than one British Minister has vainly pleaded in Downing Street.