Part 8 (2/2)

The naval officer Krusenstern conceived the idea that it would be possible to attain all the objects of his sovereign, and to open up a new channel for a profitable trade, by establis.h.i.+ng communications by sea with Canton, where the Russian flag had never been seen. The Russian government fitted out two s.h.i.+ps for him, and he safely arrived at Canton, where he disposed of their cargoes. When it became known at Pekin that a new race of foreigners had presented themselves at Canton, a special edict was issued ordering that ”all vessels belonging to any other nation than those which have been in the habit of visiting this port shall on no account whatever be permitted to trade, but merely suffered to remain in port until every circ.u.mstance is reported to us and our pleasure made known.” Thus in its first attempt to add to its possession of a land trade, via Kiachta and the Mongol steppe, a share in the sea trade with Canton, Russia experienced a rude and discouraging rebuff.

The unsatisfactory state of our relations with the Chinese government, which was brought home to the British authorities by the difficulty our s.h.i.+ps of war experienced in obtaining water and other necessary supplies on the China coast, which had generally to be obtained by force, led to the decision that another emba.s.sy should be sent to Pekin, for the purpose of effecting a better understanding.

Lord Amherst, who was specially selected for the mission on account of his diplomatic experience, reached the mouth of the Peiho in August, 1816.

When the emba.s.sy reached Pekin, the Emperor Kiaking's curiosity to see the foreigners overcame his political resolutions, and with the natural resolve of an irresponsible despot to gratify his wish without regard to the convenience of others, he determined to see them at once, and ordered that Lord Amherst and his companions should be brought forthwith into his presence. This sudden decision was most disconcerting to his own ministers, who had practically decided that no audience should be granted unless Lord Amherst performed the kotow, and especially to his brother-in- law Ho Koong Yay, who, at the emperor's repeated wish to see the English representatives, was compelled to abandon his own schemes and to remove all restrictions to the audience. The firmness of Lord Amherst was unexpected and misunderstood. Ho Koong Yay repeated his invitation several times, and even resorted to entreaty; but when the Chinese found that nothing was to be gained they changed their tone, and the infuriated Kiaking ordered that the emba.s.sador and his suite should not be allowed to remain at Pekin, and that they should be sent back to the coast at once.

Thus ignominiously ended the Amherst mission, which was summarily dismissed, and hurried back to the coast in a highly-inconvenient and inglorious manner. In a letter to the Prince Regent, Kiaking suggested that it would not be necessary for the British government to send another emba.s.sy to China. He took some personal satisfaction out of his disappointment by depriving Ho Koong Yay of all his offices, and mulcting him in five years of his pay as an imperial duke. The cause of his disgrace was expressly stated to be the mismanagement of the relations with the English emba.s.sador and the suppression of material facts from the emperor's knowledge. Sung Tajin, who had been specially recalled from his governors.h.i.+p in Ili to take part in the reception of the Europeans, and whose sympathy for them was well known, was also disgraced, and did not recover his position until after the death of Kiaking. The failure of the Amherst mission put an end to all schemes for diplomatic intercourse with Pekin until another generation had pa.s.sed away; but the facts of the case show that its failure was not altogether due to the hostility of the Chinese emperor. No practical results, in all probability, would have followed; but if Lord Amherst had gone somewhat out of his way to humor the Chinese autocrat, there is no doubt that he would have been received in audience without any humiliating conditions.

Long before the Amherst mission reached China evidence had been afforded that there were many elements of disorder in that country, and that a dangerous feeling of dissatisfaction was seething below the surface. The Manchus, even in their moments of greatest confidence, had always distrusted the loyalty of their Chinese subjects, and there is no dispute that one of their chief reasons for pursuing an excluding policy toward Europeans was the fear that they might tamper with the ma.s.s of their countrymen. What had been merely a sentiment under the great rulers of the eighteenth century became an absolute conviction when Kiaking found himself the mark of conspirators and a.s.sa.s.sins. The first of the plots to which he nearly fell a victim occurred at such an early period of his reign that it could not be attributed to popular discontent at his misgovernment. In 1803, only four years after the death of Keen Lung, Kiaking, while pa.s.sing through the streets of his capital in his chair, carried by coolie bearers, was attacked by a party of conspirators, members of one of the secret societies, and narrowly escaped with his life. His eunuch attendants showed considerable devotion and courage, and in the struggle several were killed; but they succeeded in driving off the would-be a.s.sa.s.sins. The incident caused great excitement, and much consternation in the imperial palace, where it was noted that out of the crowds in the streets only six persons came forward to help the sovereign in the moment of danger. After this the emperor gave up his practice of visiting the outer city of Pekin, and confined himself to the imperial city, and still more to the Forbidden palace which is situated within it.

But even here he could not enjoy the sense of perfect security, for the discovery was made that this attempted a.s.sa.s.sination was part of an extensive plot with ramifications into the imperial family itself.

Inquisitorial inquiries were made, which resulted in the disgrace and punishment of many of the emperor's relatives, and thus engendered an amount of suspicion and a sense of insecurity that retained unabated force as long as Kiaking filled the throne. That there was ample justification for this apprehension the second attempt on the person of the emperor clearly revealed. Whatever dangers the emperor might be exposed to in the streets of Pekin, where the members of the hated and dreaded secret societies had as free access as himself, it was thought that he could feel safe in the interior of the Forbidden city--a palace-fortress within the Tartar quarter garrisoned by a large force, and to which admission was only permitted to a privileged few. Strict as the regulations were at all times, the attempt on Kiaking and the rumors of sedition led undoubtedly to their being enforced with greater rigor, and it seemed incredible for any attempt to be made on the person of the emperor except by the mutiny of his guards or an open rebellion. Yet it was precisely at this moment that an attack was made on the emperor in his own private apartments which nearly proved successful, and which he himself described as an attack under the elbow. In the year 1813 a band of conspirators, some two hundred in number, made their way into the palace, either by forcing one of the gates, or, more probably, by climbing the walls at an unguarded spot, and, overpowering the few guards they met, some of them forced their way into the presence of the emperor. There is not the least doubt that Kiaking would then have fallen but for the unexpected valor of his son Prince Meenning, afterward the Emperor Taoukw.a.n.g, who, s.n.a.t.c.hing up a gun, shot two of the intruders. This prince had been set down as a harmless, inoffensive student, but his prompt action on this occasion excited general admiration, and Kiaking, grateful for his life, at once proclaimed him his heir.

Toward the close of his reign, and very soon after the departure of Lord Amherst, Kiaking was brought face to face with a very serious conspiracy, or what he thought to be such, among the princes of the Marichu imperial family. By an ordinance pa.s.sed by Chuntche all the descendants of that prince's father were declared ent.i.tled to wear a yellow girdle and to receive a pension from the state; while, with a view to prevent their becoming a danger to the dynasty, they were excluded from civil or military employment, and a.s.signed to a life of idleness. This imperial colony was, and is still, one of the most peculiar and least understood of the departments of the Tartar government; and although it has served its purpose in preventing dynastic squabbles, there must always remain the doubt as to how far the dynasty has been injured by the loss of the services of so many of its members who might have possessed useful capacity. They purchased the right to an easy and unlaborious existence, with free quarters and a small income guaranteed, at the heavy price of exclusion from the public service. No matter how great their ambition or natural capability, they had no prospect of emanc.i.p.ating themselves from the dull sphere of inaction to which custom relegated them. Toward the close of Kiaking's reign the number of these useless Yellow Girdles had risen to several thousand, and the emperor, alarmed by the previous attacks, or having some reason to fear a fresh plot, adopted strenuous measures against them. Whether the emperor's apprehensions overcame his reason, or whether there were among his kinsmen, some men of more than average ability, it is certain that the princes of the Manchu family were goaded or incited into what amounted to rebellion. The exact particulars remain unknown until the dynastic history sees the light of day; but it is known that many of them were executed, and that many hundreds of them were banished to Manchuria, where they were given employment in taking care of the ancestral tombs of the ruling family.

Special significance was given to these intrigues and palace plots by the remarkable increase in the number and the confidence of the secret societies which, in some form or other, have been a feature of Chinese public life from an early period. Had they not furnished evidence by their increased numbers and daring of the dissatisfaction prevalent among the Chinese ma.s.ses, whether on account of the hards.h.i.+ps of their lot, or from hatred of their Tartar lords, they would scarcely have created so much apprehension in the bosom of the Emperor Kiaking, whose authority met with no open opposition, and whose reign was nominally one of both internal and external peace. These secret societies have always been, in the form of fraternal confederacies and a.s.sociations, a feature in Chinese life; but during the present century they have acquired an importance they could never previously claim, both in China and among Chinese colonies abroad.

The first secret society to become famous was that of the Water-Lily, or Pe-leen-keaou, which a.s.sociation chose as its emblem and t.i.tle the most popular of all plants in China. Although the most famous of the societies, and the one which is regarded as the parent of all that have come after it, the Water-Lily had, as a distinct organization, a very brief existence. Its organizers seem to have dropped the name, or to have allowed it to sink into disuse in consequence of the strenuous official measures taken against the society by the government for the attempt, in 1803, on Kiaking's life in the streets of Pekin. They merged themselves into the widely-extended confederacy of the Society of Celestial Reason-- the Theen-te-Hwuy--which became better known by the t.i.tle given to it by Europeans of the Triads, from their advocacy of the union between Heaven, earth, and man. The Water-Lily Society, before it was dissolved, caused serious disturbances in both Shantung and Szchuen, and especially in the latter province, where the disbanded army that had rescued Tibet and punished the Goorkhas furnished the material for sedition. With more or less difficulty, and at a certain expense of life, these risings were suppressed, and Kiaking's authority was rendered secure against these a.s.sailants, while for his successors was left the penalty of feeling the full force of the national indignation of which their acts were the expression.

With regard to the organization of these secret societies, which probably remain unchanged to the present day, China had nothing to learn from Europe either as to the objects to be obtained in this way or as to how men are to be bound together by solemn vows for the attainment of illegal ends. By signs known only to themselves, and by pa.s.s-words, these sworn conspirators could recognize their members in the crowded streets, and could communicate with each other without exciting suspicion as to their being traitors at heart. In its endeavors to cope with this formidable and widespread organization under different names, Kiaking's government found itself placed at a serious disadvantage. Without an exact knowledge of the intentions or resources of its secret enemies, it failed to grapple with them, and, as its sole remedy, it could only decree that proof of members.h.i.+p carried with it the penalty of death.

During the last years of the reign of Kiaking the secret societies rather threatened future trouble than const.i.tuted a positive danger to the state.

They were compelled to keep quiet and to confine their attention to increasing their numbers rather than to realizing their programme. The emperor was consequently able to pa.s.s the last four years of his life with some degree of personal tranquillity, and in full indulgence of his palace pleasures, which seem at this period to have mainly consisted of a theatrical troupe which accompanied him even when he went to offer sacrifice in the temples. His excessive devotion to pleasure did not add to his reputation with his people, and it is recorded that one of the chief causes of the minister Sung's disgrace and banishment to Ili was his making a protest against the emperor's proceedings. Some time before his death Kiaking drew up his will, and on account of his great virtues he specially selected as his successor his second son, Prince Meenning, who had saved his life from a.s.sa.s.sins in the attack on the palace. Kiaking died on September 2, 1820, in the sixty-first year of his age, leaving to his successor a diminished authority, an enfeebled power, and a discontented people. Some mitigating circ.u.mstance may generally be pleaded against the adverse verdict of history in its estimation of a public character. The difficulties with which the individual had to contend may have been exceptional and unexpected, the measures which he adopted may have had untoward and unnatural results, and the crisis of the hour may have called for genius of a transcendent order. But in the case of Kiaking not one of these extenuating facts can be pleaded. His path had been smoothed for him by his predecessor, his difficulties were raised by his own indifference, and the consequences of his spasmodic and ill-directed energy were scarcely less unfortunate than those of his habitual apathy.

So much easier is the work of destruction than the labor of construction, that Kiaking in twenty-five years had done almost as much harm to the const.i.tution of his country and to the fortunes of his dynasty as Keen Lung had conferred solid advantages on the state in his brilliant reign of sixty years.

On the whole it seems as if the material prosperity of the people was never greater than during the reign of Kiaking. The population by the census of 1812 is said to have exceeded 360 millions, and the revenue never showed a more flouris.h.i.+ng return on paper. To the external view all was still fair and prosperous when Kiaking died; under his successor, who was in every sense a worthier prince, the canker and decay were to be clearly revealed.

CHAPTER XVI

THE EMPEROR TAOUKw.a.n.g

The early years of the new reign were marked by a number of events unconnected with each other but all contributing to the important incidents of the later period which must be described, although they cannot be separated. The name of Taoukw.a.n.g, which Prince Meenning took on ascending the throne, means Reason's Light, and there were many who thought it was especially appropriate for a prince who was more qualified for a college than a palace. Most of the chroniclers of the period gave an unfavorable picture of the new ruler, who was described as ”thin and toothless,” and as ”lank in figure, low of stature, with a haggard face, a reserved look, and a quiet exterior.” He was superior to his external aspect, for it may be truly said that although he had to deal with new conditions he evinced under critical circ.u.mstances a dignity of demeanor and a certain royal patience which ent.i.tled him to the respect of his opponents.

Taoukw.a.n.g began his reign in every way in a creditable manner. While professing in his proclamations the greatest admiration for his father, his first acts reversed his policy and aimed at undoing the mischief he had accomplished. He released all the political prisoners who had been consigned to jail by the suspicious fear of Kiaking, and many of the banished Manchu princes were allowed to return to Pekin. He made many public declarations of his intention to govern his people after a model and conscientious fas.h.i.+on and his subsequent acts showed that he was at least sincere in his intentions, if an acc.u.mulation of troubles prevented his attaining all the objects he set before himself when he first took the government in hand. Nothing showed his integrity more clearly than his restoration of the minister Sung to the favor and offices of which he had been dispossessed. The vicissitudes of fortune pa.s.sed through by this official have been previously referred to, and his restoration to power was a practical proof of the new ruler's good resolutions, and meant more than all the virtuous plat.i.tudes expressed in vermilion edicts. Sung had gained a popularity that far exceeded that of the emperor, through the lavish way in which he distributed his wealth, consistently refusing to acc.u.mulate money for the benefit of himself or his family. But his independent spirit rendered him an unpleasant monitor for princes who were either negligent of their duty or sensitive of criticism, and even Taoukw.a.n.g appears to have dreaded, in antic.i.p.ation, the impartial and fearless criticism of the minister whom he restored to favor. Sung was employed in two of the highest possible posts, Viceroy of Pechihli and President of the Board of Censors, and until his death he succeeded in maintaining his position in face of his enemies, and notwithstanding his excessive candor. One of the first reforms inst.i.tuted by the Emperor Taoukw.a.n.g was to cut down the enormous palace expenses, which his father had allowed to increase to a high point, and to banish from the imperial city all persons who could not give some valid justification for their being allowed to remain. The troupes of actors and buffoons were expelled, and the harem was reduced to modest dimensions. Taoukw.a.n.g declared himself to be a monogamist, and proclaimed his one wife empress. He also put a stop to the annual visits to Jehol and to the costly hunting establishment there, which entailed a great waste of public funds. The money thus saved was much wanted for various national requirements, and the sufferings caused by flood and famine were alleviated out of these palace savings.

How great the national suffering had become was shown by the marked increase of crime, especially all forms of theft and the coining of false money, for which new and severe penalties were ordained without greatly mitigating the evil. During all these troubles and trials Taoukw.a.n.g endeavored to play the part of a beneficent and merciful sovereign, tempering the severity of the laws by acts of clemency, and personally superintending every department of the administration. He seems thus to have gained a reputation among his subjects which he never lost, and the blame for any unpopular measures was always a.s.signed to his ministers. But although he endeavored to play the part of an autocrat, there is every ground for saying that he failed to realize the character, and that he was swayed more than most rulers by the advice of his ministers. The four princ.i.p.al officials after Sung, whose death occurred at an early date after Taoukw.a.n.g's accession, were Hengan, Elepoo, Keying, and Keshen.

The first ten years of Taoukw.a.n.g's reign have been termed prosperous, because they have left so little to record, but this application of the theory that ”the country is happy which has no history,” does not seem borne out by such facts as have come to our knowledge. There is no doubt that there was a great amount of public suffering, and that the prosperity of the nation declined from the high point it had reached under Kiaking.

Scarcity of food and want of work increased the growing discontent, which did not require even secret societies to give it point and expression, and as far as could be judged it was worse than when the Water-Lily Society inspired Kiaking with most apprehension. Kiaking, as has been observed, escaped the most serious consequences of his own acts. There was much popular discontent, but there was no open rebellion. Taoukw.a.n.g had not been on the throne many years before he was brought face to face with rebels who openly disputed his authority, and, strangely enough, his troubles began in Central Asia, where peace had been undisturbed for half a century.

The conquest of Central Asia had been among the most brilliant and remarkable of the feats of the great Keen Lung. Peace had been preserved there as much by the extraordinary prestige or reputation of China as by the skill of the administration or the soundness of the policy of the governing power, which left a large share of the work to the subject races. Outside each of the princ.i.p.al towns the Chinese built a fort or gulbagh, in which their garrison resided, and military officers or ambans were appointed to every district. The Mohammedan officials were held responsible for the good conduct of the people and the due collection of the taxes, and as long as the Chinese garrison was maintained in strength and efficiency they discharged their duties with the requisite good faith.

The lapse of time and the embarra.s.sment of the government at home led to the neglect of the force in Central Asia, which had once been an efficient army. The Chinese garrison, ill-paid and unrecruited, gradually lost the semblance of a military force, and was not to be distinguished from the rest of the civil population. The difference of religion was the only unequivocal mark of distinction between the rulers and the ruled, and it furnished an ever-present cause of enmity and dislike, although apart from this the Mohammedans accepted the Chinese rule as not bad in itself, and even praised it. The Chinese might have continued to govern Ili and Kashgar indefinitely, notwithstanding the weakness and decay of their garrison, but for the ambition of a neighbor. The Chinese are to blame, however, not merely for having ignored the obvious aggressiveness of that neighbor, but for having provided it with facilities for carrying out its plans. The Khanate of Khokand, the next-door state in Central Asia, had been intimately connected with Kashgar from ancient times, both in politics and trade. The Chinese armies in the eighteenth century had advanced into Khokand, humbled its khan, and reduced him to a state of va.s.salage. For more than fifty years the khan sent tribute to China, and was the humble neighbor of the Chinese. He gave, however, a place of refuge and a pension to Sarimsak, the last representative of the old Khoja family of Kashgar, and thus retained a hold on the legitimate ruler of that state. Sarimsak had as a child escaped from the pursuit of Fouta and the ma.s.sacre of his relations by the chief of Badakshan, but he was content to remain a pensioner at Khokand to the end of his days, and he left the a.s.sertion of what he considered his rights to his children. His three sons were named, in the order of their age, Yusuf, Barhanuddin, and Jehangir, and each of them attempted at different times to dispossess the Chinese in Kashgar. In the year 1812, when Kiaking's weakness was beginning to be apparent, the Khan of Khokand, a chief of more than usual ability, named Mahomed Ali, refused to send tribute any more to China, and the Viceroy of Ili, having no force at his disposal, acquiesced in the change with good grace, and no hostilities ensued. The first concession was soon followed by others. The khan obtained the right to levy a tax on all Mohammedan merchandise sold in the bazaars of Kashgar and Yarkand, and deputed consuls or aksakals for the purpose of collecting the duties.

These aksakals naturally became the center of all the intrigue and disaffection prevailing in the state against the Chinese, and they considered it to be as much their duty to provoke political discontent as to supervise the customs placed under their charge. Before the aksakals appeared on the scene the Chinese ruled a peaceful territory, but after the advent of these foreign officials trouble soon ensued.

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