One of the facts upon which modern Chinese historians, Censors, Imperial Tutors and Guardians of the Heir Apparent have repeatedly laid stress, is that the Ming Dynasty became effeminate, then degenerate, and was eventually lost, because of the demoralising influence of the eunuch system on the Court and its official entourage. Upon this text, moral exhortations in the best classical manner have been addressed to the Throne for centuries, regardless of the consideration that most of the writers owed their positions, and hoped to owe further advancement, to the eunuchs, who had the sovereign’s ear. These Memorials were usually only a part of the hoary fabric of pious platitudes and shadowy shibboleths which loom so large in the stock in trade of China’s bureaucracy (in which matter China stands not alone), and the Empress Dowager, under whose rule the evil grew and assumed monstrous proportions, was ever wont to play her part in this elaborate farce, by solemnly approving the views of the bold critics and by professing the greatest indignation at the misdeeds of her eunuch myrmidons and retainers.

There have been, of course, sincere and eloquent critics of this pernicious system and its attendant evils; in fact, scarcely a reformer worthy of the name during the past fifty years has failed to place the abolition of eunuchs in the front rank of the measures necessary to bring China into line with the civilised Powers. There is no doubt that one of the first causes of the coup d’état in 1898 arose from the hatred of the Chief Eunuch, Li Lien-ying, for the Emperor Kuang-Hsü (who years before had ventured to have him beaten), and his not unnatural apprehension that the Emperor intended to follow up his reforms of the Peking Administration by devoting his attention to the Palace and to the abolition of eunuchs. As to the Boxer rising, it has been clearly proved that this notorious and powerful Chamberlain used all the weight of his great influence with his Imperial mistress on behalf of the anti-foreign movement, and that, if justice had been done (that is to say had he not been protected by the Russian Legation), his should have been one of the very first names on the Peace Protocol “Black List.” The part which Li Lien-ying played in these two national crises of recent years is mentioned here chiefly to emphasise the fact that the platitudinous utterances of the orthodox express, as usual, a very real and widespread grievance, and that the falsetto notes of the Censorate are answered by a deep undertone of dissatisfaction and disgust throughout the provinces. It is for this reason that, especially during the past five years, progressive and patriotic Chinese officials (e.g. men like the Viceroy Yüan Shih-k’ai and T’ang Shao-yi, who realise how greatly the persistence of this barbarous medievalism lowers China in the eyes of the world), as well as the unanimous voice of the vernacular Press, have urged that the Court should now dispense with eunuchs, a measure which the Regent is said to favour, but which—such is the power wielded by these “fawning sycophants”—would undoubtedly be difficult and possibly dangerous. As early as 1906, The Times correspondent at Peking was discussing the possibility of their early removal as one of the many reforms which then shone so brightly on the horizon. In the Chinese conservative’s opinion, however, which still weighs heavily in China, there are centuries of precedents and arguments to be adduced in favour of a system which has obtained continuously since long before the beginning of the Christian era, which coincides with the Chinese accepted ideas of polygamy, and recognises the vital importance of legitimacy of succession in relation to the national religion of ancestor worship. On the other hand, it is true that in the golden days of the Sage Emperors at the beginning of the Chou Dynasty, eunuchs had no place in the body politic. Later, during the period of that Dynasty’s decay and the era of the feudal States, Confucius refers with disapproval to their baneful influence, so that the Sage’s authority may be adduced against them and their proceedings.

With the establishment of the present Dynasty at Peking (1644), the Manchus took over, as conquerors, all the existing machinery and personnel of the Chinese Court, eunuchs included, but they lost no time in restricting the latter’s activities and opportunities. At the first audience held by the young Emperor Shun-Chih, the high officials, Manchu and Chinese, united to protest against the recent high-handed proceedings of the Court menials, declaring them to be “fit only to sweep floors, and in no wise entitled to have access to the Monarch.” Regulations were promptly introduced, which remain in force (on paper) to this day, forbidding any eunuch to occupy any official position, or to hold any honorific rank or title higher than a Button of the fourth class. More important still, in view of the far-reaching conspiracy of the Chief Eunuch, Wei Chung (whom the last of the Mings had beheaded), was the law then introduced, which forbade any eunuch to leave the capital on any pretext whatsoever. For the next two hundred years, thanks to the wise rule and excellent traditions handed down by the two famous Emperors K’ang-Hsi and Ch’ien-Lung, the Palace eunuchs were kept generally under very strict discipline; but with the present century, when degeneration had set in strongly under the dissolute monarch Hsien-Feng, and even before the appearance of Yehonala on the scene, their evil influence had again become paramount in the Forbidden City. With Tzŭ Hsi’s accession to power, all the corruption, intrigues and barbarous proceedings, that had characterised the last Mings, were gradually re-established and became permanent features of her Court.

Of the power which the eunuchs exercised throughout the whole of Tzŭ Hsi’s reign, there is no possible doubt: the abuses which they practised under her protection, abuses flagrant and unconcealed, increased with the passing years and her own growing indifference to criticism, until, after 1898, her favourite and chief body-servant, Li Lien-ying did not scruple to boast that he could make or mar the highest officials at his pleasure and defy the Son of Heaven on his Throne. Of the countless legends of debauchery in the Palace, of orgies devised for Tzŭ Hsi by the Court eunuchs and actors, there is naturally nothing approaching to direct evidence: the frequent denunciations by Censors and the scurrilous writings of Cantonese and other lampooners, afford at best but circumstantial proof. The writings of K’ang Yu-wei and his associates, in particular, are clearly inspired by blind and unscrupulous hatred, and so inaccurate in matters of common knowledge and history, that one must perforce discount the value of their statements wherever the Empress Dowager or Jung Lu are concerned. But common report in China, as elsewhere, is usually based on some foundation of truth, and in Peking, where the mass of the population has always been conspicuously loyal to Tzŭ Hsi, there have never been two opinions as to the extravagance and general profligacy of her Court and of the evils of the eunuch régime. Nor is there room for doubt as to the deplorable effect exercised by these vicious underlings on weak and undisciplined Emperors, rulers of decadent instincts often encouraged in vicious practices to their speedy undoing. That this was the fate of Tzŭ Hsi’s own son, the Emperor T’ung-Chih, is well-known, nor is there any doubt that the deaths of both Hsien-Feng and Kuang-Hsü were hastened, if not caused, by the temptations to which they were exposed by their vicious environment. The inner history of the Celestial Empire and the Manchu Dynasty during the last seventy years is inextricably bound up with that of the Palace eunuchs and their far-reaching intrigues. During the half century of Tzŭ Hsi’s rule, the power behind the Throne (literally a power of darkness in high places) was that of her favourite Chamberlains. Of these the last, who has survived her, Li Lien-ying, is known by his nickname of “Cobbler’s Wax Li” (P’i Hsiao Li)[17] from one end of the Empire to the other as the chief “squeezer” and arch villain of many a Palace tragedy. His influence over his Imperial mistress was indeed remarkable; on all occasions, except State audiences, she was wont to treat him with an affectionate familiarity, and to allow him a sans-gêne, to which no courtier, nor any member of her own family (save perhaps Jung Lu) dared ever aspire.

During the Court’s residence, and the Emperor’s illness, at Jehol in 1861, the young Yehonala had occasion to notice and to appreciate the intelligence and willing service rendered by one of the eunuchs in immediate attendance upon her; this servant, by name An Te-hai, became her faithful henchman throughout the crisis of the Tsai Yüan conspiracy, and her intermediary and confidant in her dealings with the young guardsman, Jung Lu. Upon her accession to the Co-Regency, he became her favourite attendant and emissary, and later her âme damnée, sharing in all her ambitious hopes and plans, with no small advantage to himself, while at the same time employing his undeniable talents to the diversion of the young widow’s mind by the provision of the elaborate Court pageants and theatrical entertainments which her soul loved. An Te-hai was himself an actor of no mean ability and exceedingly handsome of his person.

It was at this time, before the Regency was firmly established and while yet the reverberating echoes of the Tsai Yüan conspiracy lingered in Chihli, that the leading Censors began to send in Memorials against the self-evident extravagance and the rumoured profligacy of Tzŭ Hsi’s Palace. The young Yehonala, headstrong and already impatient of criticism and restraint, confident also in the strength and loyalty of her immediate following, never allowed these remonstrances to affect her conduct in the slightest degree; nevertheless, a stickler always for etiquette and appearances, and an adept at “face-saving” arts, she had no objection to expressing the heartiest approval of, and agreement with, her professional moralists. On more than one occasion, in those first years, we find her proclaiming in most suitably worded Edicts, pious intentions which were never intended to be taken seriously by anyone, and never were. The following Decree, issued in the third year of the Regency, (1864) is a case in point, and particularly interesting in that it refers to the wholesale pilfering by eunuchs in the Palace, which has continued without interruption to this day.

A Decree in the name of the two Empresses Regent, in the third year of the Emperor T’ung-Chih:—

As everyone in the capital was well aware of Yehonala’s passion for the theatre, this Decree was naturally regarded as so much “fine writing on waste paper,” and it is noticeable that from this time until her favourite and chief eunuch An Te-hai, came to his dramatic end, the Censors continued to impeach her and to denounce the ever increasing extravagance, which was already seriously disorganising the Metropolitan Government’s finances and entailing fresh corvées in the provinces.

In 1866, two courageous Censors memorialised on this subject, having particularly in their minds the abuses caused by the unlawful proceedings of An Te-hai.

In the Decree commenting on this Memorial, the Empresses Regent, in the name of the Emperor, observe:—

Thus, Tzŭ Hsi, in her best manner, “for the gallery.” But, “in the deep seclusion of our Palace,” life went on as before, the merry round of an Oriental Trianon, while the Chief Eunuch’s influence over the young Empress became greater every day. It was common knowledge, and the gossip of the tea-houses, that his lightest whim was law in the Forbidden City; that Yehonala and he, dressed in fancy costumes from historical plays, would make frequent excursions on the Palace lake; that he frequently wore the Dragon robes sacred to the use of the sovereign, and that the Empress had publicly presented him with the jade “ju-yi,” symbol of royal power. Under these circumstances it was only natural, if not inevitable, that unfounded rumours should be rife in exaggeration of the real facts, and so we find it reported that An Te-hai was no eunuch, and again, that Yehonala had been delivered of a son[20] of which he was the father; many fantastic and moving tales were current of the licentious festivities of the Court, of students masquerading as eunuchs and then being put out of the way in the subterranean galleries of the Palace. Rumours and tales of orgies; inventions no doubt, for the most part, yet inevitable in the face of the notorious and undeniable corruption that had characterised the Court and the seraglio under the dissolute Hsien-Feng, and justified, if not confirmed, as time went on, by an irresistible consensus of opinion in the capital, and by fully substantiated events in the Empress Dowager’s career.

Of these events, one, which had far-reaching results, was her violation of the dynastic house-law which forbade eunuchs to leave the capital. In 1869, being short of funds, and desiring to replenish her Privy Purse without consulting Prince Kung or her colleague the Co-Regent, she despatched her favourite An Te-hai on a special mission to Shantung, where he was to collect tribute in her name.[21] By this time the Chief Eunuch had incurred the bitter enmity of several of the Princes of the Imperial Clan, and especially of Prince Kung, not only because of his growing influence over Tzŭ Hsi, but because of his insolent bearing to all at Court. On one occasion the Empress had curtly sent word to Prince Kung that she could not grant him audience because she was busy talking to the eunuch, an insult which the Prince never forgot and which cost the favourite his life, besides leading to the disgrace of the Prince and other consequences serious to the Empire.

The Chief Eunuch’s illegal mission to Shantung, and his outrageous behaviour in that province, provided Prince Kung with a long-sought opportunity not only of wreaking vengeance on him but of creating rivalry and enmity between the Empresses Regent. The Governor of Shantung, an able and courageous official named Ting Pao-chen, who had distinguished himself in the Taiping rebellion, was highly incensed at the arrogant eunuch’s assumption of Imperial authority, and being quite au courant with the position of affairs in the Palace, he reported direct to Prince Kung and asked for instructions. The Governor’s despatch reached the Prince while Tzŭ Hsi was amusing herself with theatricals; without a moment’s delay he sought audience of Tzŭ An, the Co-Regent Empress, and, playing upon her vanity and weak disposition, induced her to sign a Decree, which he drafted in her presence, ordering the eunuch’s summary decapitation, the customary formality of a trial in Peking being dispensed with. Tzŭ An, hard pressed as she was, gave her consent reluctantly and with a clear presentiment of evil to come from the wrath of her masterful colleague. “The Western Empress will assuredly kill me for this,” she is reported to have said to the Prince, as she handed him the sealed Decree, which Kung sent off post-haste by special courier.

The following is the text of this interesting document:—

Tzŭ Hsi remained for some time in blissful ignorance of her favourite’s danger, and even of his death. No doubt the Chief Eunuch’s great unpopularity enabled Prince Kung and the Empress Tzŭ An to keep the matter secret until the offender was past helping. Ten days later, Tzŭ An issued a second Decree, extracted from her like the first by Prince Kung, in which the eunuch’s execution is recorded, as follows:—

This Decree has a half-hearted ring, as if some of the conspirators’ fear of the coming wrath of Yehonala had crept into it. Very different in wording are the Edicts in which Tzŭ Hsi condemns an offender to death. We miss her trenchant style, that “strength of the pen” which was the secret of much of her power.

Simultaneously with the death of An, in Shantung, several eunuchs of his following were put to death by strangling; six others escaped from the police, of whom five were recaptured and executed. The Chief Eunuch’s family were sent as slaves to the frontier guards in the north-west. Several days after the execution of Tzŭ Hsi’s favourite, the eunuch who had escaped made his way back to Peking, and sent word to the Empress through Li Lien-ying, another of her confidential attendants. At first she could scarcely believe that her timorous and self-effacing colleague could have dared to sign these Decrees on her own responsibility and in secret, no matter what amount of pressure might have been brought to bear upon her. When she realised what had occurred, the Palace witnessed one of those outbursts of torrential rage with which it was to become familiar in years to come. Swiftly making her way to the “Palace of Benevolent Peace,” the residence of her Co-Regent, she wrathfully demanded an explanation. Tzŭ An, terrified, endeavoured to put the whole blame upon Prince Kung; but the plea did not serve her, and Tzŭ Hsi, after a fierce quarrel, left, vowing vengeance on them both. This event marked a turning point in the career of Yehonala, who, until then, had maintained amicable relations with her less strong-minded colleague, and all the appearances of equality in the Co-Regency. Henceforward she devoted more time and closer attention to affairs of State, consolidating her position and power with a clear determination to prevent any further interference with her supreme authority. From this time forward she definitely assumes the first place as ruler of China, relegating her colleague completely to the background.

When, on the morning after the storm, Prince Kung appeared in the Audience Hall, Tzŭ sternly rebuked him, threatening him with dismissal and the forfeiture of his titles. For the time being, however, she allowed him to go unpunished, but she never forgave the offence, and she took her revenge in due season: he suffered the effects of her resentment as long as he lived. Her first act was to pass over his son, the rightful heir to the Throne, upon the death of T’ung-Chih. It is true that in after years she permitted him to hold high office, but this was, firstly, because she could not afford to dispense with his services, and, secondly, because of her genuine affection for his daughter, whom she had adopted as her own child.

An Te-hai was succeeded in the post of Chief Eunuch and confidential attendant on her Majesty by Li Lien-ying, of whom mention has already been made. For the next forty years this Palace servant was destined to play a leading part in the government of China, to hold in his supple hands the lives and deaths of thousands, to make and unmake the highest officials of the Empire, and to levy rich tribute on the eighteen provinces. As a youth of sixteen, when he “left the family”[23] (as the Chinese euphemistically describe the making of a eunuch), Li was remarkable for his handsome appearance and good manners, advantages which never failed to carry weight with Tzŭ Hsi. It is recorded on trustworthy authority that at an early stage in his career he had so ingratiated himself with Her Majesty that he was permitted unusual liberties, remaining seated in her presence, aye, even on the Throne itself. In the privacy of her apartments he was allowed to discuss whatever subjects he chose, without being spoken to, and as years passed and his familiarity with the Old Buddha increased, he became her regular and authoritative adviser on all important State business. In later years, when speaking of Her Majesty to outsiders, even to high officials, he would use the familiar pronoun “Tsa-men” meaning “we two,” which is usually reserved for blood relations or persons on a footing of familiar equality, and he was currently known among his followers by the almost sacrilegious title of “Lord of nine thousand years,” the Emperor being Lord of ten thousand. Only on solemn State occasions did he observe the etiquette prescribed for his class and a modest demeanour.

Corrupt, avaricious, vindictive, and fiercely cruel to his enemies and rivals, it must be said in Li’s favour that he was, at least, wholly devoted and faithful to his Imperial mistress, and that at times of peril he never failed to exert himself to the utmost for her comfort and protection. He possessed moreover, other good qualities which appealed not only to Tzŭ Hsi but to many of the high Manchu officials, who did not consider it beneath their pride to throng for admission at his private residence. He was cheerful, fond of a joke, an excellent actor[24] and raconteur, and a generous host: above all, he was passing rich. At the Empress Dowager’s funeral, in November 1909, this aged retainer presented a pathetic and almost venerable spectacle, enough to make one forget for a moment the accumulated horrors of his seventy years of wickedness. Smitten with age and sickness, he could scarcely totter the short distance which the cortège had to make on foot; but of all that vast throng of officials and Palace servants, he alone showed unmistakable signs of deep and genuine grief. Watching the intelligent features of this maker of secret history, one could not but wonder what thoughts were passing through that subtle brain, as he shuffled past the Pavilion of the Diplomatic Body, escorting for the last time his great mistress,—the close confidant, not to say comrade, of all those long and eventful years. For half a century he had served her with unremitting zeal and fidelity, no small thing in a country when the allegiance of servants is so commonly bought and sold. In his youth it was he who walked and ran beside her chair as body servant; through what scenes of splendour and squalor had they both passed since then, and now he was left alone, surrounded by new faces and confronted by imminent peril of change. Yet in spite of his long life and the enervating influences of his profession, the old man’s powerful physique was by no means exhausted.

Too wise to follow in the footsteps of his unfortunate predecessor, Li never made raids on his own account into the provinces, nor did he ever attempt to gain or claim high official rank, remaining prudently content with the fourth class button, which is the highest grade to which eunuchs may legally aspire. But, under the protection and with the full knowledge of the Empress Dowager, he organised a regular system of corvées, squeezes and douceurs, levied on every high official in the Empire, the proceeds of which he frequently shared with the Old Buddha herself. As shown in another place, the Empress and her Chief Eunuch practically made common cause and a common purse in collecting “tribute” and squeezes during the wanderings of the Court in exile after 1900. At that time the Chief Eunuch, less fortunate than his mistress, had lost the whole of his buried treasure in the capital. It had been “cached” in a safe place, known only to his intimate subordinates, but one of these sold the secret to the French troops, who raided the hoard, a rich booty. One of Li’s first steps after the Court’s return was to obtain the Old Buddha’s permission to have the traitor beheaded, which was done without undue formalities. The Chief Eunuch’s fortune is estimated by Peking bankers to-day at about two millions sterling, invested chiefly in pawn-shops and money-changing establishments at the capital; this sum represents roughly his share of the provincial tribute and squeezes on official appointments for the last eight years, and the total is not surprising when we bear in mind that the price of one official post has been known to bring him in as much as three hundred and twenty thousand taels, or say forty thousand pounds.

One of the secrets of his wealth was that he never despised the day of small things. The following is the text of a letter in our possession (of which we reproduce a facsimile), written by him to one of the regular contractors of the Palace, with whom he must have had many similar transactions. The paper on which it is written is of the commonest, and the visiting card which, as usual, accompanies it, is that of an unpretentious business man; the style of the writer is terse and to the point:—

As to the amount, Li knew exactly how much the contractors and furnishers of the Palace should pay on every occasion, and that there was no need to question the possibility of the “loan” not being forthcoming.

That he encouraged lavish expenditure at the Court is certain, and scarcely a matter for wonder, but his control of finance extended far beyond the Privy Purse, and wrought great harm to the Empire on more than one historic occasion. For instance, China’s humiliating defeat at the hands of Japan in 1894 was very largely due to his diversion of vast sums of money from the Navy to the reconstruction and decoration of the Summer Palace, a work from which he and his underlings profited to no small extent. In 1885, Prince Ch’un had been appointed head of the Admiralty Board, assisted by Prince Ch’ing, Li Hung-chang and the Marquis Tseng. After the death of the Marquis, however (who had been a moving spirit in the organisation of the Board), Naval affairs passed into the control of a clique of young and inexperienced Princes, and when, in 1889, the Emperor assumed the direction of the Government, one of his first acts was to order the re-building of the Summer Palace, which Imperial residence had remained in ruins since its destruction by the Allies in 1861. There being no funds available, Li advised that the Naval appropriations should be devoted to this purpose, so that the Old Buddha might be suitably provided with a residence; this was accordingly done, and the Naval Department became a branch of the Imperial Household (Nei Wu Fu) for all purposes of Government finance. When the war with Japan broke out, the Empress Dowager issued orders that the Naval Department should be abolished. This order evoked very general criticism, but, as the Department and the Summer Palace rebuilding fund had come to be treated as one and the same account, her Decree simply meant that as the Palace restoration was now complete, and as the funds were quite exhausted, the account in question might be considered closed. There was obviously nothing to be gained by useless enquiries for money to be transferred from the Palace to the Navy.

In 1889 the Chief Eunuch accompanied Prince Ch’un on his first tour of inspection to the northern Naval ports, including the Naval bases of Port Arthur and Weihaiwei. It was a matter of very general comment at the time that the honours paid to the eunuch were noticeably greater than those shown to the Prince. Every officer in the Peiyang squadron, from Admiral Ting downwards, did his best to ingratiate himself with this powerful Chamberlain, and to become enrolled on the list of his protégés, so that he was entouré with all manner of bribery and adulation. Many critics, foreign and Chinese, have cast on Li Hung-chang the blame for the disasters of the Japanese war, but they surely overlook the fact, to which even the great Viceroy dared not openly refer, that nine-tenths of the funds which should have gone to the upkeep and provisioning of the Navy and the maintenance of the Coast Defences, had been diverted by the Chief Eunuch to the Palace (and much of them to his own pocket), so that the ships’ crews were disaffected, and their ordnance defective, in the hour of need. Readers of Pepys will remember a very similar state of affairs obtaining in the British Navy, happily without affecting the moral of its officers and men, at a similarly critical period of British history.

Li Lien-ying’s hatred of the Emperor Kuang-Hsü was beyond doubt a most important factor in the coup d’état, and in the subsequent estrangement and hostility between Tzŭ Hsi and the nominal ruler of the Empire; there are not lacking those who say that it had much to do with the Emperor’s death, which certainly created no surprise in the capital. The eunuch hated and feared the Emperor’s reforming zeal, as well as the Cantonese advisers who in 1898 came swarming to Peking as the apostles of a new dispensation, and it was therefore only natural that he should become the foremost adviser and partisan of the reactionaries and their emissary in urging the Empress to resume control of affairs. It is quite safe to assert that had his great influence with Tzŭ Hsi been exercised against, instead of for, the Boxers, had he abstained from encouraging her superstitious belief in their magic arts, the anti-foreign movement would never have gone further than the borders of Shantung, and the Chinese people would have been spared the heavy burden of the indemnities. How interesting a study of Asiatic politics and Court life presents itself in the spectacle of this cobbler’s apprentice and his influence on the destinies of so great a race! Seeing him as he was on the day of his mistress’s burial, how bitter must have been the innermost thoughts of the man, left alone on the brink of the grave with the ill-gotten wealth that his country has paid for so heavily!

At the height of the Boxer crisis when the power wielded by Li Lien-ying was enormous, it was the custom of Prince Tuan, when explaining his views to the Empress Dowager and the Grand Council, to emphasise the fact that no step had been taken except with the advice and approval of the Chief Eunuch. “Such and such a Decree,” he would say, “is issued with the chief Chamberlain Li’s approval.” His object in so doing was to head off opposition, for he well knew that few would dare to oppose any measures that the Chief Eunuch approved. When Her Majesty granted rewards to the Boxers and offered head-money to the troops for the killing of Europeans, it was at Li’s urgent request that she consented to defray these unusual charges from her Privy Purse.

When the relieving forces drew near to Peking and it became clear, even to the most obstinate, that the Boxer bolt was shot, the Chief Eunuch passed through a period of deep depression and mortification, not only because of the failure of his prophecies, but because it was clear to all at Court that his Imperial mistress, seeking, as was her wont, a scapegoat, was disposed to vent her wrath upon him. Herself deeply stirred by fear and wrath, it was only natural that she should turn on him, who had been foremost in advising her to follow the path of destruction. On the day when the relief of the Legations took place, Duke Lan rushed headlong into the Palace, loudly announcing that the foreign devils were already within the city walls. Tzŭ Hsi turned on him and asked how he could reconcile such a statement with his previous boasts. “I presume that the devils have flown here,” said she, “for you were telling me only two days ago of our glorious victories near Tientsin; and yet all the time you knew well, as I knew, that the Viceroy and the Li Ping-heng were both dead.” Li Lien-ying, who was standing close by, hearing this, went out and informed the trembling crowd of eunuchs, adding, “The Old Buddha is in an unspeakable rage. There is nothing for it; we must make our escape and retire into Shensi. There we will await the arrival of our reinforcements which will easily drive all these devils back into the sea.” But the hardships and dangers of the flight told even more severely on the chief eunuch than on the Old Buddha herself, and it was not until the Court’s safe establishment at Hsi-an that he recovered his self-possession.

Certain information conveyed by an official of the Household in exile to a fellow provincial at Peking, throws considerable light on the manner in which the Court lived during those troublous days, and the part played in affairs of State by the chief eunuch and Tzŭ Hsi’s other favourites of the Household. We take the following disconnected notes from this correspondence.

When Ts’en Ch’un-hsüan (Governor of Shensi) came to meet the Court on the Shansi frontier, the Old Buddha, raising the curtain of her sedan-chair, looked out and said to him, “Have you any idea of what we have suffered in Peking?” “I do not know all,” he replied. Pointing angrily at Li, she said, “It was all his doing; he has brought ruin upon me.” The chief eunuch hung his head, and for once had nothing to say. Later on, when the fearless Ts’en saw the eunuchs under Li’s orders mercilessly harassing the countryside in their search for plunder, he promptly reported matters to the Empress and obtained her somewhat reluctant permission to execute three of the offenders on the spot. He was sorely tempted to include the chief eunuch in the number of his victims, but realising how greatly Her Majesty depended upon her favourite attendant, he feared to run the risk of inconveniencing and offending her. Nevertheless, Li had a narrow escape. Later on, when Li had recovered his equanimity, and the Court had settled down to its usual routine, the eunuch revenged himself on the Governor, with the help of Jung Lu, by having him transferred to the Governorship of Shansi. He did this, not only because the post in Shansi was considered a dangerous one, owing to the fear of pursuit by the Allies, but because Ts’en had gradually made himself most useful to Her Majesty by superintending the expenditure of her Household. The Governor was justly famous throughout the Empire for his incorruptible honesty, so that, when placed in charge of the Palace accounts, these speedily showed a very considerable reduction in expenditure. The first result of this régime was to put a stop to all the “squeeze” of the eunuchs, and to place their salaries upon a definite and moderate basis. Ts’en rapidly attained an intimate and confidential position with Her Majesty, to the great and increasing wrath of the chief eunuch, who left no stone unturned to injure him, and eventually succeeded, with the help of Jung Lu, in inducing Her Majesty to dispense with his personal services. For over a month, however, the Old Buddha spent hours daily discussing public and private affairs with this fearless and upright official, and it would have been well for her had she retained him and others of his quality about her to counteract the corrupt tendencies of her Manchu clansmen and the eunuchs. After Ts’en’s transfer to Shansi, the chief eunuch did not scruple to suppress and destroy many of the memorials which as Governor he addressed to the Old Buddha, and which Li did not desire his mistress to see. Gradually he re-established himself as completely as before in the confidence and favour of his mistress, and before the Court’s return to Peking he had become if anything more familiarly arrogant than at any previous stage in his career. At audiences given to the highest officials he would even go so far as to refuse to transmit Her Majesty’s orders, bluntly informing her that he was tired and that there had been enough public business for that day!

The vast quantities of tribute levied by the Court from the Southern Provinces at this time were handled in the first instance by Li Lien-ying, whose apartments were stacked with heaps of dragon robes, tribute silk and other valuables. Of all the tribute paid in bullion, the Empress Dowager’s share was one-half, while the eunuchs divided one-fifth, and the balance was handed over to Jung Lu for military purposes and his own emolument. So profitable was the eunuchs’ business at Hsi-an and Kai-feng, that Li Lien-ying did his utmost to dissuade the Old Buddha from returning to Peking, endeavouring to frighten her by alarming prognostications of the vengeance of the foreign Powers. Li’s motives were not entirely mercenary, however, for there is no doubt that for a long time he fully expected to find his own name on the “black list” of the Legations, and that it fully deserved to figure there. He directed the second eunuch, named Ts’ui, to communicate to him daily the latest news from Peking, and it was only when reassured by reports from Prince Ch’ing, that his courage returned, and his opposition to the Court’s return ceased. The conciliatory attitude, which he eventually adopted towards the Empress Dowager’s reform policy, was largely induced by the good advice which he received from Jung Lu, who strongly urged him to control his reactionary opinions and violent temper.

The amount of tribute paid in silver to the Court at Hsi-an was over five million taels, the quota from each Province being kept separate. The chief eunuch was assisted in the supervision of the tribute accounts by another favourite of the Old Buddha, a eunuch named Sun, whose covetousness and bullying methods of “squeeze” were almost equal to those of his chief. On one occasion the deputy in charge of the tribute from Hupei was paying in bullion to the Imperial Household, and Sun was tallying the amounts with a steelyard. He said there was a shortage. “That cannot be so,” said the deputy, “for every shoe of Hupei silver weighs fifty taels exactly, so that there can be no mistake.” The eunuch looked at him insolently, and said, “How many times have you brought tribute, and what do you know about the customs of the Court?” The frightened deputy persisted that all was in order. Sun then said angrily: “I suppose, then, you mean that the Old Buddha’s scales are false?” He was just proceeding to assault the unfortunate deputy, when the Old Buddha herself, overhearing the argument (the court-yards of her residence being very small) came out and directed the eunuch to bring the silver into her own apartments, where she would weigh it herself. “I believe there has been a great deal of leakage lately,” she said; “it is the business of my eunuchs to see that I am not cheated.” The deputy took his departure, looking extremely crestfallen, but on his way out he was met by Chi Lu, the Controller of the Household, who said to him, “We all know you have been having a bad time of it, but you must not mind. These eunuchs have been making very little money of late, for the Old Buddha has been keeping a very sharp watch on them; you must therefore excuse them. And they have lost a great deal in Peking.”

Tribute of twenty-four kinds was received from Canton, but the eunuchs on their own initiative, and in order to compel largesse, rejected nine different kinds of articles, so that the official in charge was greatly alarmed, fearing that the Old Buddha would accuse him of having stolen the things which the eunuchs refused to receive. This was one of their commonest methods of levying tribute on their own account; another was to make large purchases in the name of the Empress, and refuse to pay for them. Much hardship was inflicted on the people of Hsi-an, and indeed of the entire province, from their depredations, especially because at the time Shensi was already suffering from the beginnings of famine, caused by the prolonged drought. It is recorded in the accounts of the Governor Ts’en, that flour cost 96 cash a pound, eggs 34 cash apiece, and pork 400 cash a pound, while fish was almost unobtainable; these prices being about six times as high as those ruling in southern China.

Many of the eunuchs appeared to take pleasure in humiliating the Emperor, and subjecting him to petty annoyances, which often roused him to petulant outbursts of temper. In one letter from the Court at Hsi-an it was reported that His Majesty appeared to be a little wrong in the head, for he would spend his time playing foolish games, such as hide-and-seek, with the younger eunuchs, until interrupted by the Empress Dowager, when he would immediately get into a corner and assume a sullen demeanour. At other times, when irritated, he would give way to violent fits of rage and throw the household crockery at the heads of his attendants. These reports must be received with caution, as they were frequently spread abroad by the chief eunuch and members of the reactionary party in order to damage His Majesty in the eyes of the outside world.

As above stated, after the return of the Court from its journeying in the wilderness (1902) Li’s influence with the Empress Dowager was, if anything, greater than before, all the internal affairs of the Palace being under his supreme control. Following Her Majesty’s example, however, he professed his complete conversion to the necessity of reform, and even gave his approval, after certain amendments had been made by the Grand Council and by himself, to her programme for the granting of a Constitution. Jesting with Her Majesty in his usual familiar manner, he was heard on more than one occasion to predict her conversion to Christianity. “We are only sham devils now, Old Buddha,” he said.

Nevertheless, and in spite of advancing years and infirmity, he has clung, and still clings, tenaciously to the perquisites and privileges of his stewardship, fiercely defending the eunuch system and his own post by all the means (and they are many) in his power. When, in 1901, T’ao Mo, late Viceroy of Canton, sent in his famous Memorial urging that, in view of the greatly reduced number of the Imperial concubines, the eunuchs should be replaced by female attendants, Li successfully intrigued to prevent this document reaching Her Majesty until he had taken effective steps to prevent her being advised in favour of the suggestion. T’ao Mo’s Memorial was as follows:—