The Last Empress - Anchee Min [64]
Yuan Shih-kai's prompt and confident military action averted the fall of Korea to Japan. For this Guang-hsu rewarded him. Besides a rank-jumping promotion, Yuan was made the Chinese Resident in Seoul.
The treaty Li Hung-chang negotiated with Japan in 1885 stated that both countries would withdraw their troops from Korea. It stipulated that a third power would organize reforms in Korea, and that China and Japan could intervene with military assistance only after notifying each other. Five years later Korean envoys would come to Peking and kowtow like vassals before Guang-hsu. It brought my son great relief, although both he and I knew it was only a matter of time before we would lose control again.
In the meantime, I advised Guang-hsu to accept Li Hung-chang's proposal to upgrade Taiwan's status from that of a prefecture of Fujian to a full-fledged province. If it was inevitable that we would lose the island, at least the gesture might gain us honor. Guang-hsu's 1887 edict declared that Taiwan would be "the twentieth province in the country, with its capital at Taipei," and that Taiwan's modernization drive would "include the building of the first railroad and the beginning of a postal service." We fooled no one but ourselves.
21
It snowed last night. Although it was not heavy, it continued until dawn. It had been a tough week. My head felt battered and swollen. Tutor Weng had given the Emperor and me an intensive introduction to Japan's transformation through political reform. Tutor Weng elaborated on the importance of freedom of expression.
"The general view regarding scholars as subversives must be changed." The grand tutor's gray beard hung in front of his chest like a curtain, making him look like a kitchen god. "We must follow the Japanese model."
"First I'll ban the practice of prosecuting heretics." Guang-hsu was excited.
"But how will you convince the court?" I asked him. "We must keep in mind that the Manchu Dynasty was founded on military power. Our ancestors secured their position by purging and slaughtering all subversives."
"Mother." My son turned to me. "You are the senior member of the royal clan and have earned great authority. The court can say no to me, but it will have difficulty saying no to you."
I promised to help. In front of the court, I granted permission to Tutor Weng's proposal, which would introduce Japanese-style reforms. However, behind the Forbidden City gates I expressed my private concern to Tutor Weng. I told him that I lacked confidence in the intelligence of our scholars, especially the group who named themselves Ming-shih, "men of wisdom." By reputation they were inclined to petty chatter and self-indulgence. As a young girl back in Wuhu, I remembered such men as my father's friends. They spent their days reciting poetry, discussing philosophy, singing operas and drinking. They were known to frequent playhouses and "flower boats"—floating brothels.
I was more concerned about Japan's growing aggression and encouraged the Emperor to work with Li Hung-chang in setting up an admiralty board to oversee naval affairs. I asked Guang-hsu to personally see to the Imperial funding of vessels and munitions of war.
My biggest challenge had been the outrage expressed by the Manchu royals over cuts in their annual taels. To quiet them, I appointed Prince Ch'un as the comptroller of the new board. The man was not the equal of his brother the brilliant Prince Kung, whom I would have preferred to work with. But Prince Kung had made a fatal mistake, which put him on the sidelines. Prince Ch'un was ineffective in all things, but he was the father of the Emperor and I had no other candidate. Aware of his shortcomings, I appointed Li Hung-chang and Tseng Chi-tse, son of Tseng Kuo-fan, as his advisors, knowing that they would more than fulfill their roles.
Future historians would describe Prince Ch'un's appointment as my revenge against Prince Kung and as another example of my thirst