THE RULE OF THE EMPRESS DOWAGER

THE death of the Empress Dowager of China recalls some incidents in the romantic and eventful life of one whose subtle powers raised her from the crowded ranks of the Imperial harem to the ancient throne whence, for over a quarter of a century, she has ruled over the destinies of the oldest empire in the world with an ability that places her among the most striking characters in the records of history. Yehonala was the youngest daughter of a Tartar general who died at his post on the Yangtze, leaving his widow with a family of two sons and two daughters in straitened circumstances. The first duty of the widow was to take the remains of her dead husband for burial at his ancestral home in Peking, so, preparing a mourning boat, with its blue and white lanterns and other insignia of woe, she embarked on it with her children, and in the course of her journey arrived at the beautifully situated and picturesque town of Chinking, whence the boat would probably have proceeded by the Grand Canal to Peking. There arrived at the same time a prefect travelling by water to a new station on promotion. Wu-tu-fu, the prefect of Chinkiang, hearing that an official had arrived by boat, sent, after the Chinese custom, his card and a complimentary gift of food, with two hundred taels which the messenger by mistake conveyed to the mourning boat. The widow returned her most grateful thanks, assuming that the prefect was a friend of her late husband's. Wu-tu-fu, seeing the mistake that had been made and understanding that the lady was in straitened circumstances, chivalrously determined to spare her from the awkwardness of an explanation, so sending her three hundred taels in addition, he waited upon her, assuming the position of a friend of her husband's, before whose coffin he performed the ceremony of Kowtow. The mother again and again expressed her gratitude and taking her youngest daughter by the hand, offered her to him for adoption, a not unusual mark of friendship in China, an offer which he accepted, as the child was very attractive.

Under his guardianship Yehonala remained until, at the age of sixteen, in the triennial review by the Emperor at Peking of the daughters of Manchu officers for the selection of young ladies for the Imperial household, she was among those whose fortune it was to be chosen.

In the Imperial household, or harem as it is colloquially termed, there are many grades; some of the maidens perform the duties of ladies-in-waiting, some the more humble services of ladies' maids, &c. The ladies' apartments are rigorously guarded by eunuchs from all male visitors except the Emperor, and the inmates occupy themselves in various ways, especially in the work of embroidery, in which almost all Chinese ladies are proficient. All these young ladies are supposed to be under the direction of the Empress. From time to time the Emperor visits the apartment and selects some one or other for his attentions, some being advanced to the position of Imperial concubine. To this position Yehonala, whose name was now changed to Tze Hsi, was promoted, and in due course presented the Emperor with a son. As the Empress was childless, Tze Hsi became at once of great importance, increasing her influence rapidly, until at length she shared with the Empress the full dignity of the Dragon Throne with all its gorgeous ceremonials.

Some years later Wu-tu-fu was reported by his superior, who recommended his punishment. Tze Hsi was by this time Empress Dowager, and, recognising the name, instead of punishing she promoted him. The superior protested, whereupon she again promoted him. The overjoyed Wu-tu-fu proceeded to Peking to return thanks, which he did in the usual fashion, kneeling before the throne with downcast eyes, and his official hat placed at his right side with the peacock plume towards the Empress. After he had spoken, the Empress Dowager said, 'Do you not know me : look up, I was your daughter.' His joy may be imagined. The Empress Dowager ultimately conferred upon him the Governorship of Szechuen.

Much has been written of her malign influence during the halfcentury of her predominance, both behind the throne and as its apparently all-powerful occupant, but who can tell the real moving power amid the kaleidoscopic intrigues of the Imperial city? We forget how short a time has elapsed since China was practically as isolated from all Western influence as in the days of Marco Polo-indeed more so--for after Ghengis Khan had swept over Northern Asia and SouthEastern Europe until the wave of conquest broke against the walls of Buda-Pest princes and ambassadors from the West visited him in his Chinese capital.

The opium war from 1840 to 1843 left China simmering until the breaking out of the Taiping rebellion in 1850, and for seventeen years the Southern Provinces were devastated by a rebellion that cost the lives of twenty-two and a half millions of people before it was finally extinguished at Suchow by the military capacity of Gordon, ably seconded by Li Hung Chang. In the meantime the repulse of our forces in the attack upon the Taku forts in 1859 was followed by their subsequent capture by the allied forces of France and England, and the advance upon Peking and burning of the Summer Palace in the

following year. The Emperor with the Imperial Court had fled to Jeh-lo, where the Emperor died, when, on his death, a Nominal Government of eight was formed, who forthwith entered into a conspiracy to make away in secret with the Empress Dowager and the young Emperor's mother, to arrest and destroy the late Emperor's three brothers, and establish a regency in which they would be supreme. Fortunately Prince Kung frustrated their machinations and brought the two Empresses with the young Emperor safe to Peking. The conspirators were arrested; two princes engaged in the plot were allowed to commit suicide and the others were executed. Prince Kung and the two Empresses then constituted a regency during the minority.

In 1870 occurred the massacre of Tientsin, and from 1870 to 1872 the Empire was in the throes of a Mahomedan insurrection. In 1894 China was again at war with the Japanese, with disastrous results, and from that time to the breaking out of the Boxer uprising she has never been free from strained anxiety from her Northern neighbour. Surely no woman has ever lived a life of more sustained anxiety than Tze Hsi, and in remembering her misdeeds we ought not to forget her difficulties and her surroundings, that called for all her woman's wiles and evoked at times a ruthlessness not unknown in our own history.

That she possessed a magnetic charm is acknowledged by those who have been admitted to her presence, and glimpses of her life within the veil show that she had her moments of merriment and enjoyment. The cloud that has rested upon her name of late has been the feeling that her treatment of the young Emperor was as cruel as it was unjust.

It is by no means certain that the young Emperor was satisfied with his elevation to the throne, which was undoubtedly in the light of ancient custom a usurpation brought about by the dominant influence of his aunt. He had read and had heard of other nations, and probably regretted the real liberty that he had lost in being placed in a position of splendid isolation and practical captivity. He turned eagerly to those who spoke of progress, and jumped to the conclusion that the supreme and godlike power of which he was assured in every action of his ceremonious Court was able to effect at once changes that can only be hoped for after long evolution. After the death of Marquess Tseng he sent for Kang yu Wei, an advanced thinker whose literary fame was at its zenith, and at once adopted his views that China could be regenerated by edicts from the throne that would in a trice change the customs of centuries. At first his enthusiasm for Western methods was received by the Empress Dowager with apparently good-humoured amusement. It is said that on one occasion he ordered some thousands of European costumes, and, donning one, appeared before the Dowager Empress and asked her how she liked it. She answered: Very nice indeed,

but, having admired yourself in the glass, I advise you to go to your ancestral hall and there regard the portraits of your ancestors in their proper costume and judge which is more befitting for an emperor.' It is hard to say what credence can be safely given to these snatches of palace gossip, but the incident was widely accepted in well-informed Chinese circles.

At length matters became serious. There were murmurs of an anti-dynastic movement in the ever-restless South, and the time seemed inopportune to court the opposition of the most conservative people on the face of the globe. Under the influence of Kang yu Wei six edicts were prepared of an almost revolutionary character. The Chinese were to adopt Western attire and to cut off the queue, which was the badge of submission if not of loyalty to the Manchu dynasty, and other edicts were also prepared effecting changes in the entire system of administration. The Emperor had appointed four young men to act as assistants, or advisers, to the Tsung li Yamen in matters of reform. One of these young men was sent by the Emperor to Yuan Shi Kai, who then commanded a camp about twenty miles from Peking, with orders to Yuan to bring his troops to the capital, and an edict was written by the Emperor decreeing that henceforth the Empress Dowager should take no part in official matters, and that Jung Lu was to be beheaded. The more experienced officials were alarmed by the youthful enthusiasm of the Emperor. Such edicts might possibly be issued and enforced by a conqueror at the head of a great army, but with China torn by internal dissensions the result might mean an upheaval the consequences of which no man could foresee. The young messenger presented the edict to Yuan Shi Kai, who, instead of proceeding as ordered, informed Prince Tuan, who went hot haste to the Summer Palace, from whence the Empress Dowager returned at once to Peking, first sending to Jung Lu a revocation of the edict ordering his execution. After considerable delay Yuan Shi Kai went with the messenger to Jung Lu's yamen. The young man was left outside. Yuan went in to Jung Lu and the two stood in silence for a while. Then Jung Lu said, 'You have a message for me?' 'Yes,' replied Yuan, but I cannot deliver it.' Then he took out the triangular symbol that is always sent with such an order for execution and laid it on the table saying, 'I cannot deliver my message from the Emperor to you, my master (he had been a pupil of Jung Lu's), and I want to ask your advice.' By this time Jung Lu had in his possession the revocation of the edict by the Empress Dowager and had made his preparation to march his own troops to Peking. This was done, and the coup d'état followed. The Emperor managed to send an urgent message to Kang yu Wei to fly, but the other reformers were seized and executed.

Kang yu Wei is a graceful writer and most ardent reformer. There is a literary magnetism about his style that has appealed to

the young literati who have accepted him as their leader. He desired to have changed at a flash the crystallised customs of all the centuries and to have adopted Western costume, Western habits and modes of thought, while at the same time, as shown by his book on reform, he was violently anti-foreign. China for the Chinese was his shibboleth, and one at which no fair-minded man could cavil; but he ignored the danger of pouring new wine into old bottles. Had the edicts inspired by him and his co-reformers been promulgated the convulsion of China was inevitable. In his flight his lucky star was in the ascendant. On receiving the Emperor's warning, Kang yu Wei went at once to Tientsin and proceeded straight on board a steamer that was about to leave, but as he had no luggage he was refused permission to proceed, so he landed and waited for the next steamer, which was bound for Shanghai. After he had sailed his description was telegraphed from Peking, and on the arrival of the first steamer she was searched. The description was also received at Shanghai with orders to arrest him, and a photograph procured; but a gentleman who saw the communication went out in a launch and met the ship at Woosung, where steamers for Shanghai usually anchor. He found Kang yu Wei and took him on board a British steamer. H.M.S. Esk was ordered to accompany the steamer, but not to take Kang yu Wei on board. She lumbered after the vessel until the Pygmy was met, which took up the escort until the Bonaventure was sighted. In the meantime, on the return of the Esk, a Chinese warship pursued the steamer, but only to find that she was under the wing of the Bonaventure. Had Kang yu Wei not been turned off the first ship boarded by him he would doubtless have been arrested and beheaded.

Though Kang yu Wei is in exile he is still in intimate communication with China, where he has many thousands of ardent admirers, and his influence is a distinct factor in the movement of Chinese thought, which may be divided in three main directions. First, of those who are satisfied with old conditions, shrink from relations with foreigners, and recognise no improvement in the conveniences of Western progress; second, those who desire reform but without foreign interference ; third, those who are prepared to welcome foreign intercourse and ready to adopt any means by which moral and material progress may be assured. The first represents inert China; the third the reformers whose views are mainly those held by Chinese students from foreign countries, and which are largely accepted by the Chinese Christians; while the second embraces all the spirits of unrest. That Kang yu Wei, ardent reformer as he is, could have been disloyal to the Emperor or the dynasty is hardly conceivable. His hatred of the Empress Dowager was unbounded, but he could have had no feeling but loyal affection for the Emperor, who so completely abandoned himself to his guidance. His demand was reform of China from within, but in the South the feeling went farther. The Triad Society,