No. 141.
Mr. Avery
to Mr. Fish.
Peking, January 27, 1875. (Received April 2.)
Sir: In my No. 21, of the 6th instant, I informed you of the convalescence of the Emperor from an attack of small-pox, and of the remarkable ceremonies and edicts in connection therewith. At that date, and for some days afterward, there was no good reason to doubt that His Majesty was on the road to recovery, though represented as being very weak. Prince Kung, his uncle, who had before excused himself for not accompanying other members of the Yamen in their usual round of New Year calls upon the legations, was able to leave the palace and pay his calls on the 11th instant, when he reported the Emperor as improving, and seemed himself to be in unusually good spirits. Accordingly, it was a surprise to hear on the morning of the 13th that the Emperor was dead. The rumors to this effect were confirmed during the day by an official notification from Prince Kung, (inclosure 1,) stating that His Majesty died (literally “took the long journey on the dragon-chariot and became a guest on high”) the day before. It is understood that he deceased at about 6 o’clock in the evening. I replied to the prince as soon as possible, expressing regret and sympathy. (Inclosure 2.) The Emperor’s death was doubtless due to extreme debility supervening upon the abatement of his disease in the absence of proper tonic treatment at the hands of the court physicians. Of a delicate frame and constitution, he had not vitality enough to rally without the aid which scientific medication and a nourishing diet alone could render him. His doctors, who had previously been awarded increased honor and emolument, were promptly stripped of these by a punitive decree. The news of the imperial demise spread rapidly through the city, but caused no outward excitement. Beyond the displacing of the red hangings of shop-doors and signs with blue, or the donning of white garments, in token of mourning, there were no unusual demonstrations to be observed in passing through the streets. The foreign legations, by common consent, testified their sense of the sad event by lowering their respective flags to half-mast, and keeping them so for ten days.
The late Emperor was born April 27, 1856, and, dying on the 12th of January, 1875, had not completed his nineteenth year. His personal name was Tsai-Shun, and the style of his reign was Tung Chi, (united rule,) referring to the circumstances under which his accession was secured through the concurrent action of the Empress-Dowagers and the imperial princes, his uncles. He was the only son of the Emperor Hienfung, who died in August, 1861, aged only 31 years, his heir being [Page 251] then but 5 years old. A certain ambitious prince, named I. Tsin-wang, conspired to set aside the natural guardians of the boy, if not to usurp the throne, bat his plot was discovered and thwarted by Prince Kung and he Empress-Dowagers, who formed a regency for the purposes of government during the imperial minority, which terminated at the beginning of 1873. The marriage of His Majesty about this time; his reception of the foreign ministers some months later, after a prolonged and edious discussion, thus abandoning the traditional claim of superiority for the Chinese ruler which had been so obstinately and arrogantly maintained; the peaceful settlement of the dispute with Japan about Formosa, in 1874, are the chief events that have occurred since the late Emperor’s personal accession. But his reign as a whole, although it leaves still so much to desire, is remarkable for the establishment of wider and better relations with foreigners; for the more liberal interpretation and stricter enforcement of treaties; for the quelling of the formidable Taiping rebellion; for improvements in the customs service, including the carrying out of a fine light-house system; for a vigorous attempt to suppress the cruel coolie traffic; for the encouragement of scientific learning, through the Tung Wan College, at Peking, under the residency of our countryman, Dr. W. A. P. Martin, and through the provision for sending to the United States, for education, thirty students a year for five years; for the establishment of a Chinese line of steamships in home waters; for the permission and protection of telegraph-cables along the coast, leading to initial land-lines; for the establishment of arsenals and navy-yards, and the arming and drilling of troops on foreign methods, together with the adoption of steam in the naval service. All these things, and some others of a kindred nature that might be enumerated, while the credit for them, in hardly any case, cannot be ascribed to intelligent initiative action at Peking,, are still a part of the history of the late reign, and could not have been at least without its tacit permission. What it did not order it tolerated The more satisfactory and agreeable diplomatic relations existing are, of course, due to a better understanding by the foreign office here of international law and comity as slowly acquired through intercourse and discussion with foreign representatives; and to this cause, in turn, is owing that lessened disposition to oppose wholesome innovations, which, in the absence of any decided disposition to encourage then, is a welcome aid to progress in an empire presenting such an inert mass to the assaults of modern ideas. The late Emperor, however had little if any influence in practical affairs, nor did his brief period of nominal authority give promise of the ultimate development of qualities befitting a ruler of China at this epoch, when the elements of decadence and dissolution can be neutralized only by the infusion of afresh and vigorous motive into the central government, under the prudent leadership of an original mind. His only independent and characteristic acts were exhibitions of temper against Prince Kung, whom, on childish pretexts, he degraded in rank, only to restore him within a day or two, at the command of the Empress-Mothers. He had established no claim to the affection of his subjects, and the traditional veneration due to his position is apparently too weak to inspire more than ceremonious grief anywhere. The main pillar of his reign throughout was undoubtedly Prince Kung.
The late Emperor was the eighth in regular hereditary succession of the Manchu, styled the Tsing, or pure dynasty, which came into power in 1644. He was the only Emperor of the line who died without a son to succeed him, and failed to name his successor. It is remarkable, and [Page 252] peculiar to China, that the rule of only eight Emperors of this dynasty, passing so regularly from father to sou, should have stretched over 235 years, making an average of 29⅛ years to each sovereign. This fact is quite consistent with the ancient stability and orderly instinct of the Chinese. Dr. Williams, in his Middle Kingdom, (vol. 2, page 229,) states that the whole number of sovereigns in the twenty-six dynasties from Fuhhi, in B. C. 2852, to Tankwang, in A. D. 1847, a period of 4,699 years, is 243, which gives 180 years to each dynasty, and an average of 19⅓ years to each reign. There is no comparison to this showing in the annals of any other old people. The Egyptian dynasties, during a period of 2,384 years, from B. C. 2715 to B. C. 331, were thirty-one in number, counting 378 kings, who reigned on an average 77 years to each family, and only 6½ years to each monarch.
In almost any other Oriental country, under the same circumstances as those attending the death of the late Chinese Emperor, without leaving a lineal heir, the nearest of kin being four uncles, and no code fixing the succession, scenes of intrigue and violence might be certainly expected; but here, such is the force of tradition and custom, and such the regard for order growing out of a peculiar system of education, nothing of the kind has occurred. It should be added that if any of the princes cherished a secret ambition for the throne, none of them has a following or party on which he could rely for support in a bold attempt to seize it.
All speculations as to the succession, some of which pointed to Prince Kung as the coming man, were speedily put at rest by an official decree in the name of the Empress-Mothers (inclosure 3) who had been constituted a provisional regency during the first days of the Emperor’s illness, proclaiming the posthumous adoption of Tsai-tien (son of Yih-hwan, or Prince Chun, brother of Prince Kung, and commonly known as the seventh prince) as the son of Heinfung, the boy’s uncle, and father of the late Emperor, who was the boy’s cousin. By this fiction, which is not a new thing in Chinese ideas and customs, Tsai-tien, an infant of scarcely four years, born ten years after the death of his father, by adoption, becomes the nominal ruler of about four hundred millions of people, more than one-third of the human race as usually computed; and so far the decree is calmly received and obeyed. The selection of Tsai-tien, rather than the son of an elder prince, is said to be due to the influence of the late Emperor’s mother, whose sister is the wife of the seventh prince and mother of Tsai-tien. A story is current that during the family deliberations at the palace as to the succession, this lady, who is credited with much force of character, suddenly appeared with her little nephew, exclaiming authoritatively: “This is your Emperor!” The story is at least dramatic, and illustrates the reputation for decision and energy which the Empress-Mother has among the people. Her ascendency in the government may appear anomalous to those who have read of the generally inferior position of woman in China, but it is strictly consistent with the ideas of the Chinese who venerate maternity, widowhood, and age, and who therefore accord a position and influence to the widow of one Emperor and the mother of another which are withheld from the hapless wife of the deceased Emperor, who had borne him no son, and who is now so distracted with grief that she is said to have attempted her own life with poison.
The decree of adoption provides that when a son shall have been born to Tsai-tien, he, in turn, shall be “adopted as the inheritor of His Majesty now departed;” that is, of the Emperor just dead. This provision not only fixes the future succession in this branch of the family, [Page 253] should Tsai-tien retain the throne and leave a son, but it also supplies a descendant, in default of natural male issue, to worship the manes of the late Emperor in accordance with the demands of the national religion. On the same date with this decree from the Empress-Dowagers, January 14, another was issued, (inclosure 4,) ostensibly from the new boy Emperor himself, accepting the trust, apotheosizing his predecessor, whose spirit he hopes to console by a gentle and good rule, ordering the due performance of acts of sacrifice and worship, and directing the usual rite s of mourning throughout the empire. Still another decree of the same date, (inclosure 5,) which is referred to in the order of its reception , purports to be “a mandate from the late Emperor,” expressing his gratitude to the Empress-Dowagers for their care during his minority, and subsequently ascribing to the “counsels of maternal love” the success of his reign, lamenting the calamities of war, flood, and drought which have afflicted his people, pathetically announcing the approach of his death, declaring, agreeably to the will of the Empress-Dowagers, thas Tsai-tien shall be his heir, and limiting the mourning to twenty-seven days. It is altogether probable that this testamentary decree is only fictitiously attributed to the late Emperor, and that the succession was independently determined on in family council, as were the steps taken later to put the new reign in commission. Inclosure 6, ostensibly an edict from the new Emperor, announces the continuance of the regency of the Empress-Mothers during his minority, in conformity to a memorial from the princes and nobles, the inner council, with the presidents of the six boards and the nine superior metropolitan boards, who are directed to consult and decide upon the arrangements necessary to carry on the regency.
The edict of the Empress Dowagers as to the adoption of the Tsai-tien is given in inclosure 7. Another mandate from them (inclosure 8) delegates the charge of the imperial obsequies to certain princes and minister. The order of the obsequies has not yet been announced, but proclamation has been made of public mourning for the usual period of on hundred days. During this time no red is to be worn. Officials are to wear white robes on duty, and are to eschew plumes, buttons, and fringes. They are to appoint a day of wailing as soon as the news of death reaches them. A blue cloth is to be suspended from all shops, and blue papers must take the place of the red sentences on door-posts. No flags are to be suspended. Theaters must be shut, and all feasts foregone. The common people are not to marry during the hundred day s of mourning. They are not to shave their heads, fire crackers, ring bells, beat drums, nor have music of any kind. All cards, dispatches, and reports are to be stamped with blue ink. The women are not to wear hair-pins of yellow, (the imperial color) neither pearls nor jade earrings.
These details, conforming to old customs, are summarized from a mandate which appears in the Peking Gazette, (official.) Practically, the period of mourning prescribed will not be so long as stated, since it presumably dates from the day of the Emperor’s death, and announcement is made that the installation of the new Emperor will occur on the 22d of February. The prohibition of the New-Year festivities, which would occur in that month, will be a great deprivation to the people, and a loss to the shop-keepers.
Meanwhile, the remains of the late Emperor lie in state at the palace, within the forbidden city, and are reverently sacrificed to, after the immemorial custom of Chinese ancestral worship, which is the one universal religion of this people, underlying all other forms of faith or worship, [Page 254] and having the strongest influence on their domestic life and civil polity. Indeed, the succession to, the throne just arranged was partly decided by the rigid rules of ancestral worship. The four imperial princes, brothers of Hienfung and uncles of the late Emperor, were all prevented from succeeding by being of a higher generation, and so disabled from according him ancestral worship. Prince Chūn, the father of Tsai-tien, is said to chafe under a sense of his relative inferiority to his own son, and because he cannot make the kotow, or three kneelings and nine knockings, to him, as his servant, has asked to be relieved of the duties conferred upon him. His request has been complied with only so far as to retire him from the more active of these duties. Of all the surviving brothers of Heinfung, Prince Kung alone possesses marked character and talent for affairs. His highness retains his place as president of the general council, the leading executive body, consisting of two Manchus and two Chinese. He also remains at the head of the Tsungli Yamen, as chief secretary of state for foreign affairs. All the councils and boards remain unchanged, and as the former regency of the Empress Dowagers is restored, with no difference but in their enlarged experience, the government relapses to just what it was during the minority of the late Emperor. The style of the new reign, as announced by the Gazette, is Kwang-Sü, translated “glorious succession;” and the Chinese years, during Tsai-tien’s rule, will be named accordingly. An imperial decree (inclosure 9) prescribes the mode of writing the Emperor’s name, changing so that the second word shall not be a sacred character.
Other decrees (inclosures 10 and 11) degrade the unlucky court physicians, and rescind largesses and honors conferred on various persons when the Emperor was supposed to be convalescent. The several decrees referred to in this narative, if read in connection with it, will happily illustrate the peculiarities of a government which depends so much upon form and prescription, and veils its real working machinery behind rhetorical fictions, though these may be taken as the monuments or survivals of a once vital system. While a sacred and patriarchal character is attributed to the monarch, he is seen to be little more than a state figment, the real functions of power being lodged in the princes and ministers, who rule in the name of the Empress Dowagers, as they, in turn, are said to give ear to the affairs of government behind a curtain. We have really here an example of government by a whole family. There have been many rumors of dissatisfaction with the new settlement of succession, both in and out of the palace; but it seems to have been arranged by the common consent of the princes and Empress Mothers, and to be everywhere received with comparative indifference. There is probably more or less regret among thoughtful natives at the prospect of another long minority reign under a plural regency, so soon following that which closed with the late Emperor’s assumption of personal authority in 1873; but this feeling is not shown in a way to attract attention. * * * * *
I have, &c.,
- This monarch died in 1861, and his reign was styled Hienfung. His personal name, Yih-chu, is too sacred to be used by the common people. After his death he was canonized in the ancestral hall as “Wantsung Hien Hwangti, or our literary ancestor the Emperor Hien, (intelligent or illustrious.)↩
- This is the literal rendering of the original expression, shui lien ting chang, and is descriptive of the regency of an Empress, who, with a curtain dropped before her, gives year to the affairs of government.↩
- These two expressions are taken from the Book of Records and Book of Odes. The first is the remark of Ching Wang, (B. C. 1115,) in his reply to the princes, complaining of their want of sympathy with him where he ascribes the bequest to Heaven. The second is a line in an ode, where the same monarch, Ching, declares his feelings in the temple of his father, and bemoans his being left solitary and unsupported in his high position.↩
- These are two court physicians, who were promoted on His late Majesty’s apparent convalescence. On the 15th the censor Yu Shang-hwa reported against them for incompetency and malpractice, stating that Li Teh-li was utterly helpless to devise means to protect His late Majesty from the small-pox, and his crimes are weighty. It is ordered, in consequence, that both these court-physicians be degraded from all their posts and held to answer for their misdemeanors.↩