The first years of Yehonala’s Co-Regency, during which she was steadily acquiring the arts and crafts of Government, and gradually relegating her easy-going colleague to the background, were joyfully associated in the minds of her subjects with the decline and final collapse of the great rebellion which had devastated the best part of the Empire since 1850. Chinese historians (a body of writers who depend largely on each others’ writings for material) agree in attributing the final deliverance from this scourge to the ability and courage of the famous Viceroy Tseng Kuo-fan,[12] and for once their praises are well-deserved, for this military scholar like his fellow provincial and colleague, Tso Tsung-t’ang,[13] was a man of the heroic breed of philosophers which, with all its faults, the Confucian system has always produced, and continues to produce, to the great benefit of the Chinese people, a man whose name ranks high among China’s worthies, a household word for honesty and intelligent patriotism.
It was one of the secrets of Tzŭ Hsi’s success as a ruler that she recognised and appreciated merit whenever she found it, and especially the merit of a military commander: it was only when she allowed her superstitious tendencies to outweigh her judgment that she failed. For the character and talents of Tseng Kuo-fan she had the highest respect, due, no doubt, in the first instance to the effect of his military despatches, stirring tales of camp and siege, on her imaginative mind, but later to personal acquaintance with his sterling qualities. With the single exception of Jung Lu, probably no high official ever stood so high in her affectionate esteem, and Jung Lu was a Manchu kinsman, while Tseng came from one of the proverbially independent gentry families of Hunan. From a Chinese narrative of the Taiping rebellion, we are able to obtain a very clear impression, not only of Tseng’s character and of his conception of patriotism but also of the remarkable and undisputed position of autocratic power already at that time enjoyed by the youthful Empress Tzŭ Hsi. Before turning to this narrative, however, certain points in connection with the final defeat of the Taipings deserve to be noted, events with which Englishmen were prominently identified, but which, as recorded by British eye-witnesses, confirm our doubts as to the historical value of Imperial Edicts and Chinese official despatches.
The Emperor Hsien-Feng had died in exile and defeat at Jehol in August 1861. The Summer Palace had been destroyed by the British and French forces, peace had been restored, and the Co-Regency of the Empresses Dowager had commenced. One of the first acts of Prince Kung, in his capacity as “Adviser to the Government” after the conclusion of the Peace Convention of October 1860, was to invoke the aid of his country’s conquering invaders against the Chinese rebels, whose strong position on the Yangtsze was causing the Court ever increasing anxiety. It is an illuminating example of Chinese methods of government, not without parallels and value to-day, that even while the British and French forces were concentrating at Shanghai for their invasion of north China, high Chinese officials in the Yangtsze provinces had not hesitated to invoke their aid against the rebels, and had been chagrined at a refusal which appeared to them unwise since it ignored the interests of British trade at its most important centre. The history of the “Ever-Victorious Army” need not be referred to here. It kept the rebels in check in the province of Kiangsu throughout the year 1862, and in February 1863 the British Government sanctioned the lending of “Chinese Gordon” to take command of that force, which was speedily to turn the tide of war in favour of the Imperialists and effectively to pave the way for Tseng Kuo-fan’s final restoration of law and order. Soochow, the provincial capital, was regained in December 1863, and in the following July the fall of the rebel capital (Nanking) and the death of the rebel “King” practically ended the insurrection. A considerable number of Europeans, including a French Admiral, had given their lives to win back China for the Manchu Dynasty, although at the outset public opinion was in favour of strict neutrality and there were many, even then, who thought China would be well rid of her degenerate rulers: nevertheless, the triumphant Edict in which is recorded Tseng Kuo-fan’s capture of Nanking contains no word of reference to Gordon and the invaluable help which he rendered, and, as will be seen, Tseng’s only reference to the British Commander is to accuse him of having recommended the inhuman treatment of a defenceless prisoner. In accordance with the invariable classical tradition, he ascribes his success to “the consummate virtue and wisdom” of the late Emperor Hsien-Feng; the tradition represents, in conventional phraseology, the Oriental conception of the divine right of kings, and their infallibility (a conception which we find reproduced almost verbatim in the modern Japanese Generals’ modest reports of their greatest victories), and it is incompatible in China with any reference to the existence, much less the services, of foreign barbarians. The fact is worth noting, for Tseng was an exceptionally intelligent and courageous man who could, sooner than most men, have ventured on a new departure; and he knew full well that this same Gordon, who had steadily driven the rebels before him, cane in hand for over a year, had come hot-foot to the task from the sacking of the Manchu sovereigns’ Summer Palace!
But Yehonala’s joy at the fall of Nanking was unfeignedly great, and the Decree in which, in the name of the boy Emperor, she records the event and rewards the victors, is a brilliant example of her literary style. We take the following extracts from this document, as of permanent interest and throwing light on the character of Tzŭ Hsi.
Decree on the Fall of Nanking.
“An express courier from Tseng Kuo-fan, travelling two hundred miles a day, has just arrived, bearing the red banner of decisive victory and a Memorial describing the capture of Nanking, the suicide by burning of the rebel Prince, the complete destruction of the Taiping host and the capture of two of their leading commanders. Perusal of this Memorial fills us with the deepest joy and gratitude, which all our people will share. The leader of the long haired rebels[14] Hung Hsiu-ch’uan first raised his standard of revolt in the thirtieth year of Tao-Kuang (1850); from Kuangsi the movement spread gradually through Hunan, Hupei and the Yangtsze provinces to Chihli itself and Shantung, until scarcely a spot in the whole Empire but bore the footprints of the rebel armies. In the third year of Hsien-Feng (1853) they took Nanking and there established the seat of their Government. Uncounted thousands of our subjects have fallen victims to their savage crimes. The cup of their guilt has indeed overflowed. Gods and men alike hold them in abhorrence.
“Our Imperial father, in the majesty of his wrath, and in all reverence to Heaven, began a punitive campaign against them and named Kuan Wen, the Viceroy of Wu-Ch’ang, to be his Imperial Commissioner for the war. This officer successfully cleared the Hupei region of rebels and then marched eastwards towards Kiangsu in order to extirpate them there also. Later, Tseng Kuo-fan was made Viceroy of Nanking and Imperial Commissioner for the campaign in Kiangsu and Anhui, and he achieved great results, proportionate to his high responsibility.
“On the death of our late father (1861), half the cities of Kiangsu and Chekiang had been retaken by our forces, and it was a source of grief to His Majesty, recorded in his valedictory Decree, that he could not have lived to see the end of the rebellion. Upon our succeeding to the goodly heritage of the Throne, obeying our late father’s commands and listening to the sage counsel of the Empresses Regent, we promoted Tseng Kuo-fan to be an Assistant Grand Secretary and gave him full powers as Commander-in-Chief over the four provinces of Kiangsu, Kiangsi, Anhui and Chekiang, so as to secure an undivided plan of campaign.
“Ever since his appointment he has adopted a policy of masterful strategy in combination with the forces of P’eng Yu-lin and Tseng Kuo-ch’uan,[15] attacking the rebels both by land and by water. Over a hundred cities have been recaptured and over a hundred thousand rebels, who were advancing to the relief of Nanking, have been slain and ‘their left ears cut off.’[16] Nanking was thus completely invested and its relief became impossible. Early this month the outer defences of the city were taken and some thirty thousand rebels put to the sword, but their so-called King and his desperate followers were still at bay in the inner city, fighting fiercely to the end.
“Tseng Kuo-fan now reports that after the capture by our troops of the outer city ramparts, the rebels greatly strengthened the inner defences. Our men succeeded in taking the ‘Dragon’s Elbow’ hill and a general bombardment followed. Mining and counter-mining went on furiously in the vicinity of the chief forts amidst desperate encounters. At dawn on the 16th all our forces were collected, and by springing a mine under the wall of the city a breach was made some sixty yards in width. Our men rushed the gap, burst into the city and were advancing on all sides when the rebels from the wall exploded a magazine, and many of our men were slain. A panic was only averted by our leaders cutting down a number of those who were attempting to fly.
[Here follows a detailed description of the fighting, which we omit.]
“By 1 A.M. flames were bursting from the Palace of the ‘Heavenly King’ and the residences of other rebel leaders. One of them rushed from the main Palace Hall with one thousand followers and sought refuge in some houses near the south gate of the city. After some seven hundred of his men had been slain, he was captured, and on his person were found two Imperial seals of jade and one official seal of gold. At 3 A.M. about a thousand of the rebels, disguised in our uniforms, escaped through the tunnel at the Gate of Heavenly Peace but our cavalry pursued them and captured or destroyed the whole force at Hu-Shu chen, where their leader, the ‘Glorious Prince,’ was taken alive. On being examined, this leader whose name was Li Wan-ts’ai, admitted that seven of the so-called Princes of the Taipings had been slain by our forces, while seeking to escape under cover of darkness, on the night of our entrance into the city.
“According to the evidence of other rebels, the arch-leader Hung Hsiu-ch’uan, had committed suicide by taking poison a month before. He had been buried in the court-yard of his Palace, and his son, the so-called Boy-Prince, had succeeded to the usurped title. He also had committed suicide by burning when the city fell. Another of their chiefs, one Li Hsiu-cheng, had been wounded and was in hiding at a spot near by, where our men found him together with the elder brother of the ‘Heavenly King.’ During these three days, over a hundred thousand rebels were killed, of whom some three thousand were their so-called Princes, generals, and high officers.
“This glorious victory is entirely due to the bountiful protection of Heaven, to the ever-present help of our Ancestors, and to the foresight and wisdom of the Empresses Regent, who, by employing and promoting efficient leaders for their armies, have thus secured co-operation of all our forces and the accomplishment of this great achievement, whereby the soul of our late father in Heaven must be comforted, and the desire of all people fulfilled. For ourselves we feel utterly unworthy of this crowning triumph, and we are truly distressed at the thought that our late father could not live to witness this consummation of his unfinished plans. This rebellion has now lasted fifteen years, during twelve of which Nanking has been held by the rebels. They have devastated about a dozen provinces, and have captured some hundreds of cities. Their final defeat we owe to our Generals, ‘who have been combed by the wind and bathed in the rain,’ and who have undergone every conceivable hardship in bringing about the destruction of these unspeakable traitors. We are therefore bound to recognise their exceptional services by the bestowal of exceptional rewards. Tseng Kuo-fan first contributed to this glorious end by raising a force of militia in Hunan and a fleet of war-vessels with which he won great victories, saving his province from complete ruin. He re-captured Wu-Ch’ang, cleared the whole province of Kiangsi, and, advancing eastwards, recovered city after city. That glorious success has finally crowned our efforts is due chiefly to his masterly strategy and courage, to his employment of able subordinates and to his remarkable powers of organisation. We now confer upon him the title of Senior Guardian of the Throne, a marquisate of the first rank, hereditary in perpetuity, and the decoration of the double-eyed peacock’s feather.
[Here follows a long list of officers rewarded, beginning with Tseng Kuo-fan’s brother, above mentioned, who was given an earldom.]
“As soon as the troops have found the body of the usurper known as the ‘Heavenly King,’ Hung Hsiu-ch’uan, let it be dismembered forthwith and let the head be sent for exhibition in every province that has been ravaged by his rebellion, in order that the public indignation may be appeased. As to the two captured leaders, let them be sent in cages to Peking, in order that they may be examined and then punished with death by the lingering process.”
A further Decree announced that the Emperor would go in person to offer thanksgiving and sacrifice at all Imperial Temples and shrines, and make sacrifice to deities of the chief mountains and rivers of the Empire.
A Chinese diarist of the rebellion, referring to the manner in which the ‘Heavenly King’ met his death, says:—
“From the moment that the Imperialists captured Ch’u-yung, the rebels, pent up in Nanking like wild beasts in a cage, were in a hopeless plight. From the commencement of the 4th Moon, the city was completely invested, and without hope of relief. They were living on reduced rations of one meagre meal a day. The ‘Heavenly King’ caused roots and leaves to be kneaded and rolled into pellets which he had served out to his immediate followers, the rebel chiefs, saying, ‘This is manna from Heaven; for a long time we in the Palace have eaten nothing else.’ He gave orders that every household should collect ten loads of this stuff for storage in the Palace granaries; some of the more ignorant people obeyed the order, but most of the rebels ignored it.
“The rebel Li Hsiu-ch’eng, known as the ‘Patriotic Prince,’ escaped from Ch’u-yung and made his way to Nanking. Upon entering the city, he had drums beaten and bells rung as a signal for the ‘Heavenly King’ and his followers to ascend to the Throne Chamber for the discussion of the perilous situation. Hung Hsiu-ch’uan came, and boastfully ascending the Throne, spake as follows ‘The Most High has issued to me his sacred Decree. God the Father, and my Divine elder brother (Christ) have commanded me to descend unto this world of flesh and to become the one true lord of all nations and kindreds upon earth. What cause have I then for fear? Remain with me, or leave me, as you choose: my inheritance of this Empire, which is even as an iron girdle of defence, will be protected by others if you decline to protect it. I have at my command an angelic host of a million strong: how then could a hundred thousand or so of these unholy Imperialists enter the city’? When Li Hsiu-ch’eng heard this nonsensical boasting, he burst into tears and left the hall.
“But before the middle of the 5th Moon, Hung Hsiu-ch’uan had come to realise that the city was doomed, and on the 27th day, having abandoned all hope, he procured a deadly poison which he mixed with his wine. Then raising the cup on high, he cried, ‘It is not that God the Father has deceived me, but it is I who have disobeyed God the Father.’ After repeating this several times he drank the poison. By midnight the measure of his iniquity was full, and, writhing in agony, he died. Even his last words showed no true repentance, although they amounted to an admission of guilt. When his followers learned what had happened, they wrapped his body in a coverlet of yellow silk, embroidered with dragons and then, following the rule of their religion, buried it, uncoffined, in a corner of the Palace ground. They then placed on the Throne the rebel’s son, the so-called Boy-Emperor, but they tried to keep secret the news of the ‘Heavenly King’s’ death. It eventually leaked out, however, and the courage of the besieged dropped to the last depths of despair.”
In his Memorial to the Throne, Tseng Kuo-fan described the exhumation of the rebel Emperor’s body.
“Even the feet of the corpse were wrapped in dragon embroideries,” he says; “he had a bald head and a beard streaked with grey. After examining the body I beheaded it and then burnt it on a large bonfire. One of the concubines in the usurper’s palace, a woman named Huang, who had herself prepared the body for burial, told me that the ‘Heavenly King’ seldom showed himself to his Court, so that they were able to keep his death a secret for sixteen days. I am sending his bogus seals to Peking that they may be deposited in the Imperial Archives Department.”
The Memorial then proceeds:—
“The prisoner Li Hsiu-ch’eng, known as the ‘Patriotic Prince,’ was minutely cross-examined by myself, and his statement, which he wrote out with his own hand, extends to some thirty thousand words. He narrated in detail the first causes of the rebellion and described the present position of the rebels still at large in Shensi and elsewhere. He strongly advised that we should not be too hard on the defeated rebels from Kuangtung and Kuangsi, on the ground that severity would only lead to an increase of the anti-dynastic feeling in those provinces. It seems to me that there is much sense in his advice.
“All my staff were most anxious that Li Hsiu-ch’eng should be sent to Peking in a cage, and even the foreigner Gordon, when he called to congratulate me, strongly urged this course. But it seems to me that the high prestige of our Sacred Dynasty needs no such sending of petty rebels to Peking as trophies or prisoners of war. The ‘Heavenly King’s’ head is now being sent round those provinces which were laid waste by the rebellion, and this should suffice. Besides, I feel that there would be some risk of Li starving himself to death on the journey, or that a rescue might even be attempted, for this Li was extraordinarily popular with the common people. After the fall of the city, some peasants gave him shelter, and when he was finally captured the people of the village where he was taken decoyed and slew one of our men in revenge. After he had been put in his cage here, another rebel leader, the so-called ‘Pine Prince,’ was brought into camp. As soon as he caught sight of Li, he went down on his knees and saluted him most respectfully, I therefore decided to behead him and the sentence was duly carried out on the 6th instant.
“The two elder brothers of the ‘Heavenly King’ were men of a cruel and savage nature, who committed many foul and impious crimes. Li detested them both heartily. When captured, they were in a dazed state, and could only mumble ‘God the Father, God the Father.’ As I could get no information from them, and as they were sick unto death, I had them both beheaded, two days before the execution of Li Hsiu-ch’eng. I am now in receipt of your Majesties’ Decree, approving my action and ordering me to forward the heads of the three rebel chiefs to the various provinces in order that public indignation may be appeased. I have duly suspended the heads from long poles, and the sight of them has given great and general satisfaction.
“And now, victory being ours, I am led to the reflection that this our Dynasty surpasses all its predecessors in martial glory and has suppressed several rebellions by achievements which shed lustre on our history. The Ssŭ-ch’uan and Hupei rebellion of half a century ago was, however, limited to four provinces, and only some twenty cities were held by the rebels. The insurrection of Wu San-kuei, in the reign of K’ang-Hsi, overran twelve provinces, and the rebels captured some three hundred cities and towns. But this Taiping rebellion has been on a scale vaster than any before, and has produced some great leaders in its armies. Here in Nanking not a single rebel surrendered. Many burned themselves alive rather than be taken. Such things are unparalleled in history, and we feel that the final happy issue is due to the consummate virtue and wisdom of his late Majesty, which alone made victory possible. By dint of careful economy in the Palace, he was able to set aside large sums for the equipment of adequate forces. Most careful in his choice of leaders, he was lavish of rewards; all wise himself, yet was he ever ready to listen to the advice of his generals. Your Majesties the Empresses and the Emperor have faithfully carried out and even amplified these principles, and thus you have succeeded in wiping out these usurpers and have shed great glory on your reign. We, who so unworthily hold your high command, grieve greatly that His Majesty did not live to see his work crowned with triumph.”
For four years after the collapse of the rebellion, Tseng Kuo-fan remained at Nanking as Viceroy. (The Hunanese still regard that post as belonging by prescriptive right to a Hunanese official.) His only absence was during a brief expedition against the Mahomedan rebels in Shantung. In September 1868 he was appointed Viceroy of Chihli, and left for Peking at the end of the year, receiving a remarkable ovation from the people of Nanking. In Peking he was received with great honours, and in his capacity of Grand Secretary had a meeting with the Council on the morning after his arrival, followed immediately by an Audience, to which he was summoned and conducted by one of the Princes. The young Emperor was sitting on a Throne facing west, and the Empresses Regent were behind him, screened from view by the yellow curtain, Tzŭ An to the left and Tzŭ Hsi to the right of the Throne. In the Chinese narrative of the rebellion to which we have already referred, the writer professes to report this audience, and several that followed, practically verbatim, and as it affords interesting information as to the manner and methods of Tzŭ Hsi on these occasions, the following extracts are worthy of reproduction. It is to be observed that the writer, like all his contemporaries, assumes ab initio that the Empress Tzŭ An, though senior, is a negligible quantity and that the whole interest of the occasion lies between Tzŭ Hsi and the official in audience.
Upon entering the Throne room, Tseng fell upon his knees, as in duty bound, and in that position advanced a few feet, saying “Your servant Tseng Kuo-fan respectfully enquires after Your Majesties’ health.” Then removing his hat and performing the kowtow, he humbly returned thanks for Imperial favours bestowed upon him. These preliminaries completed, he rose and advanced a few steps to kneel on the cushion prepared for him below the daïs. The following dialogue then took place:—
Her Majesty Tzŭ Hsi. When you left Nanking, was all your official work completed?
Tseng. Yes, quite completed.
Tzŭ Hsi. Have the irregular troops and braves all been disbanded?
Tseng. Yes, all.
Tzŭ Hsi. How many in all?
Tseng. I have disbanded over twenty thousand irregulars and have enrolled thirty thousand regulars.
Tzŭ Hsi. From which province do the majority of these men hail?
Tseng. A few of the troops come from Hunan, but the great majority are Anhui men.
Tzŭ Hsi. Was the disbandment effected quite quietly?
Tseng. Yes, quite quietly.
Then follow numerous questions regarding Tseng’s previous career, his family, &c. As soon as the questions cease, after waiting a few minutes, the audience is at an end, and Tseng kowtows and retires. On each occasion, and they were many, the Empress had evidently worked up her questions carefully from study of reports and despatches, and invariably put them in the short sharp form indicated; always peremptory, de haut en bas and Cæsarian, this woman “behind the screen,” addressing the veteran who had saved China for her rule.
After describing Tseng’s important position at the Court banquet given to high officials, Manchu and Chinese, on the 16th day of the 1st Moon (at which six plays were performed and the dishes “passed all reckoning”), the narrative gives an account of his farewell audience, at which Her Majesty closely cross-examined him as to his plans for the reorganisation of the naval and military forces of Chihli. He held the post of Chihli Viceroy for a little over a year. The viceregal residence in those days was at Pao-ting fu, so that when the Tientsin massacre occurred (1870) he was not directly to blame, though officially responsible. In June of that year the Nanking Viceroy was assassinated, and Tseng was ordered to resume duty at that post, his place in Chihli being taken by Li Hung-chang, who held it for twenty-four years. Tseng, whose health was failing, endeavoured to have his appointment to Nanking cancelled, but Tzŭ Hsi would take no excuses. She issued a Decree in which she laid stress on the arduous nature of the work to be done at the southern capital and Tseng’s special fitness for the post which he had so ably administered in the past. “Even if his eyesight troubles him,” she said, “he can still exercise a general supervision.”
Before leaving for the south, Tseng celebrated his sixtieth birthday, receiving many marks of Imperial favour and rich gifts. The Empress sent him a poem of congratulation in her own handwriting, and a tablet bearing the inscription “My lofty pillar and rock of defence,” together with an image of Buddha, a sandalwood sceptre inlaid with jade, a dragon robe, ten rolls of “auspicious” silk, and ten of crape. At his farewell audience the following interesting conversation took place:—
Tzŭ Hsi. When did you leave Tientsin?
Tseng. On the 23rd.
Tzŭ Hsi. Have the ringleaders in the massacre of foreigners been executed yet?
Tseng. Not yet. The Consul told me that the Russian Minister was coming to Tientsin and that the French Minister was sending a deputy to witness the executions, so that the decapitations could not be summarily carried out.
Tzŭ Hsi. What date has Li Hung-chang fixed for the executions?
Tseng. On the day of my departure, he sent me word that he expected to dispose of them yesterday.
Tzŭ Hsi. Have the Tientsin populace calmed down?
Tseng. Yes, things are now quite settled and orderly.
Tzŭ Hsi. What made the Prefect and Magistrate run away to Shun-Tê after the massacre?
Tseng. When first removed from their posts, they knew not what sentence would be decreed against them, so they boldly and shamelessly ran away from the city.
Tzŭ Hsi. Have you quite lost the sight of your right eye?
Tseng. Yes, it is quite blind; but I can still see with the left.
Tzŭ Hsi. Have you entirely recovered from your other maladies?
Tseng. Yes, I think I can say that I have.
Tzŭ Hsi. You appear to kneel, and to rise from that posture quite briskly and freely, as if your physique were still pretty good?
Tseng. No; it is not what it used to be.
Tzŭ Hsi. That was a strange thing, the assassination of Ma Hsin-yi (the late Viceroy of Nanking), was it not?
Tseng. Extraordinary.
Tzŭ Hsi. He was a first-rate administrator.
Tseng. Yes, he took great pains, and was honest and impartial.
Tzŭ Hsi. How many regular troops have you raised in Chihli?
Tseng. Three thousand. The former Viceroy had four thousand men trained under the old system. I had intended to raise three thousand more, making a total force of ten thousand. I have arranged with Li Hung-chang to carry out this programme.
Tzŭ Hsi. It is of vital importance that we should have a force of properly trained troops in the south. You must see to this.
Tseng. Yes. At present peace prevails, but we must be prepared for all possible emergencies. I propose to build forts at several places on the Yangtsze.
Tzŭ Hsi. It would be a fine thing if we could secure ourselves properly against invasion. These missionary complications are perpetually creating trouble for us.
Tseng. That is true. Of late the missionaries have created trouble everywhere. The native converts are given to oppressing those who will not embrace Christianity (literally “eat the religion”) and the missionaries always screen the converts, while the Consuls protect the missionaries. Next year, when the time comes for revising the French Treaty, we must take particular pains to reconsider carefully the whole question of religious propaganda.
In November Tseng had his farewell audience, and Tzŭ Hsi never saw him again. A month later he took over the seals of office at his old post, one of his first acts being to try the assassin of his predecessor, who was condemned to death by the slicing process. In the following summer he went for a cruise of inspection and visited various places of interest, noting with satisfaction the complete restoration of law and order in the districts which had been for so long the scene of the Taipings’ devastations. On one occasion, seeing the gaily decked “flower-boats” and listening to the sounds of their revelries, he joyfully exclaimed: “I am glad to have lived to see my province as it was before the rebellion.” In December he moved into the Viceregal residence which he had known as the Palace of the Taiping “Heavenly King.” But he was not long to administer that high office, for in the early part of 1872 he had a first stroke of paralysis. A few days later, going in his chair to meet a high official arriving from Peking, and reciting, as was his wont, favourite passages from the classics, he suddenly made a sign to his attendants, but speech failed him and he could only mumble. In his diary that same evening, he wrote:—“This illness of mine prevents me from attending to my work. In the 26th and 27th years of Tao-Kuang (1846-7) I found that efforts at poetical composition brought on attacks of eczema and insomnia. Now it is different. I feel all dazed and confused. Spots float before my eyes and my liver is disordered. Alas, that I can neither obtain a speedy release, like the morning dew which swiftly passes away, nor hope for the restoration of energies to enable me to perform my duty. What sadder fate than thus to linger on, useless, in the world!” On the next day he wrote:—“My strength is rapidly failing, and I must leave behind me many unsettled questions and business half completed. The dead leaves of disappointed hopes fill all the landscape, and I see no prospect of settling my affairs. Thirty years have passed since I took my degree, and I have attained to the highest rank; yet have I learned nothing, and my character still lacks true solidity. What shame should be mine at having reached thus uselessly old age!” Next day, while reading a despatch, he had another stroke. Rallying, he told his eldest son, Tseng Chi-tsê, to see to it that his funeral ceremonies were conducted after the old usages, and that neither Buddhist nor Taoist priests be permitted to chant their liturgies over his corpse. On the following morning, though very weak, he insisted on perusing one of the essays which had been successful at the provincial examination. In the evening he was taken out into his garden and was returning thence with his son when the last seizure occurred. They carried him into the great Hall of audience, where he sat upright, as if presiding at a meeting of Council, and thus passed away, well stricken in age, though only sixty-two by the calendar. “Every man in Nanking,” says the writer of this narrative, “felt as if he had lost a parent; it was rumoured that a shooting star had fallen in the city at the very moment of his death. The news was received by the Throne with profound grief. All Court functions were suspended for three days.”
The Empress Dowager issued a Decree praising her faithful servant in unmeasured terms of gratitude and esteem, describing him as the “very backbone of the Throne,” reciting his glorious achievements and ordering the erection of Temples in his honour in all the provinces that had been the scene of his campaign against the Taipings, in order “to prove our sincere affection for this good and loyal man.”