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Tzŭ Hsi lived in these Apartments for some time after the death of T’ung-Chih.
“In spite of the arduous duties of the State, which have fully
occupied my time, I was naturally of robust constitution and
had therefore fully expected to attain to a good old age and to
enjoy the Emperor’s dutiful ministrations. Yesterday, however,
I was suddenly stricken with a slight illness and His Majesty
thereupon commanded his physician to attend me; later His
Majesty came in person to enquire as to my health. And now,
most unexpectedly, I have had a most dangerous relapse. At
7 p.m. this evening I became completely confused in mind and
now all hope of my recovery appears to be vain. I am forty-
five years of age and for close on twenty years have held the
high position of a Regent of the Empire. Many honorific titles
and ceremonies of congratulation have been bestowed upon
me: what cause have I therefore for regret?”
“Our country has not yet returned to its wonted stability, and
its affairs are still in a critical state. There is chaos in the
Government and a feeling of insecurity amongst the people. It
is, therefore, of the utmost importance that there should be
competent statesmen at the head of affairs, and that our
Grand Council should be an efficient pivot and centre of
administration.
“Prince Kung, at the outset of his career, was wont to
render us most zealous assistance; but this attitude became
modified, as time went by, to one of self-confident and callous
contentment with the sweets of office, and of late he has
become unduly inflated with his pride of place, displaying
nepotism and slothful inefficiency. On occasions when we
have urged the Grand Council to display zeal and single-
hearted devotion to the State, he and his colleagues have
ruthlessly stuck to their preconceived ideas, and have failed
to carry out our orders, for which reason they have more than
once been impeached, either on grounds of obstructiveness
or general uselessness. It has even been said of them that
their private lives are disreputable, and that they have dared
to recommend persons for high office from improper and
corrupt motives.
“The House-laws of our Dynasty are most severe, and if
there were any truth in the accusations of treason that have
been made against Prince Kung, we should not hesitate for a
single moment to inflict upon him the extreme penalty of the
law. We do not believe, however, that he can have dared to
act in the manner suggested. We set these aside, therefore,
and will deal only with the other charges to which we have
referred, and for which there would appear to be good
foundation. They are in themselves more than sufficient to
cause the gravest injury to the State, and if we continue to
treat the Prince with leniency, how shall we justify ourselves
hereafter in the eyes of our glorious ancestors? We shall incur
no small blame in the eyes of posterity, and when the day
comes for the Emperor to take over charge of the
Government there can be no doubt that he would be likely to
fail, under such conditions, to shed lustre, by his reign, on the
Dynasty.
“If we were to make public even one or two of the accusing
Memorials that have reached us, it would be impossible for
us, on grounds of privilege, to extenuate the Prince’s faults,
and we should be forced to cashier several of our senior
advisers. In the magnanimity of our heart we shrink, however,
from any such drastic steps, being moved to deep
compassion at the thought that Prince Kung and his
colleague, the Grand Secretary, Pao Yün, should have served
us so long and now have come to deserve our stern censure
and severe punishment. We are prompted to leniency by
remembrance of the fact that Prince Kung suffers from a
complication of diseases, while Pao Yün has reached an
advanced old age. In recognition of their past merits we have,
therefore, decided that their good fame may be left to them,
and remain unsullied for the rest of their days. As a mark of
our Imperial clemency we have decided to permit Prince Kung
to retain his hereditary Princedom, together with all the
emoluments thereof, but he is hereby deprived of all his
offices, and the double salary which he has hitherto enjoyed
is withdrawn. He is permitted to retire into private life and
attend to the care of his health.
“As regards the Grand Secretary, Pao Yün, he also is
allowed to retire from public life, retaining his present rank
and titles. As for Li Hung-tsao,[42] who has been a member of
the Council for many years, his narrow views and lack of
practical experience have caused him to fail completely in his
duties. Finally, Ching Lien, the President of the Board of War,
seems to think that his duties are satisfactorily performed by
adherence to a routine of procrastination, the man being
devoid of the first elements of knowledge. Both these officials
are hereby relieved of their posts, to be employed in lower
positions hereafter. Weng T’ung-ho, the President of the
Board of Works, has only recently been appointed a member
of the Council, at a time of serious complications, and has, so
far, taken no active part in its proceedings. He therefore
escapes censure or penalty. As a mark of our consideration
we hereby remove him from his post on the Grand Council,
but permit him to retain his position on the Board of Works,
and he will continue his services as Tutor to the Emperor.”
“For a long time past we have been quietly observing the
behaviour and general tendencies of Prince Kung and his
colleagues, and we are quite convinced in our mind that it is
useless to look to them for any activity or awakening of their
petrified energies. If they were retained in office, we firmly
believe that they would end by incurring severe punishment
by causing some really serious disaster to the State. For this
reason we now content ourselves with mild censure from a
sense of pity, as a measure of precaution. It is not because of
any trivial misdemeanour, or because of the impeachment by
Censors that we thus dismiss from office a Prince of the
Blood and these high Ministers of our Government, nor is our
action taken on any sudden impulse and without full
consideration.”
As the result of this Decree, Prince Kung retired from the scene, to
remain in unemployed obscurity until 1894, when, after the first
disasters of the war with Japan, Tzŭ Hsi, older and wiser, turned to
him once more for assistance. He never completely regained the
influence with the Empress which he had enjoyed in the earlier days
of the first Regency, but after his return to office until his death in
1898, his prestige, especially among foreigners, was great. Tzŭ Hsi,
though she loved him not, was forced to admit that he had accepted
and borne his degradation with dignity.
After the issue of the above Decree, Prince Kung was succeeded
in office by Prince Li, the head of the eight Princely families and a
descendant of a younger son of Nurhachu. With him were
associated on the Grand Council, amongst others, the elder brother
of Chang Chih-tung and Sun Yu-wen.[43] The latter was a bitter
enemy of the Imperial Tutor, Weng T’ung-ho. In appointing him to the
Council, Tzŭ Hsi followed her favourite tactics of creating dissension
among her advisers and maintaining the equilibrium of her own
authority as the resultant of their conflicting forces.
Her Majesty’s next step aroused a storm of opposition and
criticism. She decreed that in all matters of urgency, the Grand
Council, before advising the Throne, should confer with the
Emperor’s father, Prince Ch’un, but added that upon the Emperor’s
attaining his majority, she would issue further instructions on this
subject. This was not only an entirely new and irregular departure,
since it made the Emperor’s father de facto head of the executive,
but it implied the possibility of violation of the solemn pledges given
to the nation in 1875, as to the provision of an heir to the Emperor
T’ung-Chih. Fears were once more aroused in an acute form that
Prince Ch’un might hereafter persuade his son to ignore the
ancestral claims of the late Emperor, and thus constitute the house
of Ch’un founders of a new line. The Prince would have great
inducement to adopt this policy, as it would confer upon him and
upon his wife (Tzŭ Hsi’s sister) Imperial rank during their lives and
Imperial honours after their death. The reign of T’ung-Chih would in
that case be practically expunged, going down to posterity
dishonoured as the ignominious end of the senior branch of the Ta
Ching Dynasty, and the Yehonala clan would become of paramount
influence. A wide field would thus be left for future dissensions,
treasons, stratagems and Court intrigues. In fact the position thus
created would be somewhat similar to that which arose from the
rivalry of the Houses of York and Lancaster in English history.
An Imperial Clansman, named Sheng Yü, and other scholars,
memorialised in the most urgent terms praying the Empress to
cancel this appointment and suggesting that if Prince Ch’un’s advice
were really needed, it should be given to herself direct and not to the
Grand Council. The writers advanced numerous arguments, all
calculated to save the face of Prince Ch’un while preventing him
from accepting the position. They doubted whether his health would
stand the strain, and whether the duties of the post were consistent
with his high calling; at the same time they foresaw that a post which
practically conferred the powers of a Dictator must undoubtedly
make him unpopular, a result which Her Majesty herself would be the
first to deplore.
Besides, had not the Emperor Chia-Ch’ing declared (in 1799) that
Princes of the Blood were not eligible for service on the Grand
Council, except in cases of urgent and exceptional emergency?