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Title: The War in the East - Japan, China, and Corea
Author: White, Trumbull
Language: English
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[Illustration: BATTLEFIELD OF PING-YANG.]
[Illustration]
The War in the East.
JAPAN,
CHINA,
AND COREA.
A complete history of the War: Its causes and
results; its campaigns on sea and land; its
terrific fights, grand victories and
overwhelming defeats.
With a preliminary account of the customs, habits
and history of the three peoples involved. Their
cities, arts, sciences, amusements and
literature.
BY
TRUMBULL WHITE,
Late Correspondent of the “North China Daily News,” and the “Kobe
Herald.”
WITH AN INTRODUCTION BY
JULIUS KUMPEI MATUMOTO, A.M.
OF TOKIO, JAPAN.
WITH ILLUSTRATIONS BY
TEITOKU MORIMOTO, J.C. FIREMAN,
and others.
P.W. ZIEGLER & CO.,
PHILADELPHIA, PA.; ST. LOUIS, MO.
Copyrighted, 1895, by
TRUMBULL WHITE
PREFACE.
Some striking act in a man’s career is necessary to attract general
attention to him. The one who moves along through his path in life doing
nothing out of the ordinary, will win few glances from the public, and
little will the world notice his existence. Worthy of the worthiest he
may be, but if he does nothing to demonstrate it, how shall the world
know his merit or his strength? But with all this true, it does not
follow that it is man’s duty to seek an occasion to advertise these
qualities. Only when the necessity for action arises, then should he
act, and then will the world know what his ability and character are.
The same is true as to the nations of the earth. Those years during
which they move onward in their national life and history in peace and
quietness, however full of latent strength they may be, are not the ones
which command the attention of the eyes of the world. It is the year of
supreme test, of struggle, moral or physical, that furnishes crucial
testimony what the nation really is. War is always a curse unless it be
waged to advance justice and assure more worthy peace. But if such a war
be necessary, the progress of it, the results, and the lessons they
teach are essential to the student of humanity, in whatever quarter of
the globe the battles are.
China, Japan and Corea are a strange trinity to most of us in the
western world. Separated from us by long distances and by immense
differences in race, in language, in religion, and in customs, they have
been known here only through the writings of the comparatively few
travelers who exchange visits. Of late years, it is true, the hermitages
of the Orient have been opening to freer intercourse, trade and treaties
have multiplied, and students have come to us for the knowledge we could
give them. But there was needed a great movement of some sort to awaken
the Orient from its centuries of slumber, and to make known to us the
truth of eastern affairs. Nothing could do this as the War in the East
has done. We can study its conduct and its results if we will, in a way
to teach us more of the characteristics of the three nations than we
could learn in any other way.
It has been the object of the author in the present volume, to record
the facts of the war and its preliminaries so clearly that every seeker
for knowledge might trace the lessons for himself. To justify this
effort, it is necessary to say no more than that the conflict involves
directly nations whose total population includes more than one-fourth of
the human race. And the results will affect the progress of civilization
in those countries, as well as the commercial and other interests of all
the European and American nations.
Invertebrate China, with scorn of western methods, and complacent rest
in the belief that all but her own people are barbarians, had to face an
inevitable war with Japan, the sprightly, absorbent, adaptive,
western-spirited, whose career in the two score years since her doors
were opened to the call of the American Perry has been the marvel of
those who knew it. And the conflict was to be on the soil of the Hermit
Nation, Corea, “the Land of Morning Calm,” for centuries the land of
contention between “the Day’s Beginning” and “the Middle Kingdom.”
It is to record the history and description of these realms and peoples
in sufficient detail to make plainer the facts of the war that the
preliminary chapters are written. The work must speak for itself. The
importance of the subjects included in the volume must be the
explanation of any inadequacy of treatment.
TRUMBULL WHITE.
TABLE OF CONTENTS.
PART I. CHINA, THE CELESTIAL KINGDOM.
CHAPTER I.—History from the Earliest Times to First Contact 33
with European Civilization
CHAPTER II.—History from First Contact with European 71
Civilization to the Outbreak of the War with Japan
CHAPTER III.—The Chinese Empire, its Geography, Government, 99
Climate, and Products
CHAPTER IV.—The Chinese People, their Personal 135
Characteristics, Manner of Life, Industries, Social
Customs, Art, Science, Literature, and Religion
--------------
PART II. JAPAN, THE ISLAND EMPIRE.
CHAPTER V.—History from the Earliest Times to First Contact 187
with European Civilization
CHAPTER VI.—History from First Contact with European 223
Civilization to the Present Time—How the United States
Opened Japan to the World
CHAPTER VII.—The Japanese Empire, its Geography, Government, 265
Climate, and Products
CHAPTER VIII.—The Japanese People, their Personal 285
Characteristics, Manner of Life, Industries, Social
Customs, Art, Science, Literature, and Religion
--------------
PART III. COREA, THE HERMIT NATION.
CHAPTER IX.—History from the Earliest Times to the Present 327
CHAPTER X.—The Kingdom of Corea, its Geography, Government, 372
Climate, and Products
CHAPTER XI.—The Coreans and how they Live, their Personal 391
Characteristics, Industries, Social Customs, Art, Science,
Literature, and Religion
--------------
PART IV. THE WAR BETWEEN JAPAN AND CHINA.
CHAPTER XII.—Causes of the War, Condition of the Three 419
Nations at the Outbreak of Hostilities, and the
Preparations for the Impending Struggle
CHAPTER XIII.—How the Conflict Began. The First Overt Acts 437
of Offense, the Sinking of the Kow-shing, and the Formal
Declarations of War by the Rulers of Japan and China
CHAPTER XIV.—From Asan to Ping-Yang. The Campaign in the 457
North of Corea During August and Early September
CHAPTER XV.—On Land and Sea. The Assault on Ping-Yang by the 481
Japanese, and the Flight of the Chinese. Battle off the
Yalu River, the First Great Fight Between Modern Battle
Ships, and its Lessons
CHAPTER XVI.—The Advance into China. Japan’s Forward 507
Movement across the Yalu River. Li Hung Chang Losing his
Influence in Chinese Affairs
CHAPTER XVII.—Review of the State of the Conflict and the 543
Lessons to be Learned by the Aspect of Affairs at the
First of November
CHAPTER XVIII.—Preparing to Attack Port Arthur. Advance 562
Movements on the Kwang Tung Peninsula
CHAPTER XIX.—Port Arthur. Successful Assault on the Chinese 583
Stronghold. Barbarity to the Wounded and Prisoners on Both
Sides. Horrible Mutilation and Brutality
CHAPTER XX.—From Port Arthur to Wei-hai-wei. China’s Offer 611
of Peace. Envoy Rejected
CHAPTER XXI.—The Expedition to Capture Wei-hai-wei and its 629
Success. Admiral Ting’s Suicide
CHAPTER XXII.—The End of Hostile Operations. Capture of 643
Niuchwang and Hai-chow
CHAPTER XXIII.—The Negotiations for Peace. Terms of the 655
Treaty. Probable Results of the War
LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS.
Battle Field of Ping-Yang, Frontispiece.
Battle of the Yalu, 21
The Fight of Ping-Yang, 28
Chinese Musician, 32
Chinese Idea of Creation, 35
Emperor Shun Plowing, 36
View from Summer Palace, Peking, 37
Chinese Temple, 42
Image of Confucius, 46
Manchoorian Ministers, 48
Great Wall of China, 50
Buddhist Priest, 52
Chinese Archers, 57
Chinese Writer, 59
Chinese Cannoniers, 64
Ancient Chinese Arch, 65
A Chinese Lodging House, 70
Chinese Priest, 75
Man of Swatow, 76
Chinese Paper-Maker, 79
Chinese Peasant, Peiho District, 82
Battle of Crickets, 85
Chinese Mandarin, 87
Gate at Peking, 89
Opium Smokers, 92
Chinese Miners, 101
Chinese Farm Scene, 108
Chinese Tea Farm, 109
Chinese Street Scene, 111
Chinese Farmer, 113
An Imperial Audience, 117
Preparation of Vermicelli, 119
Chinese Ladies, 122
Palanquin of a High Official, 125
The Governor of a Province, 126
Punishment by the Gangue, 130
Flogging a Culprit, 131
Outside Peking, 134
Discipline on the March in the Chinese Army, 143
A Typhoon, 150
Bandaging the Feet, 151
The Seat of the War, 156
The Punishments of Hell, 158
Chinese Cart, 162
School Boy, 163
Chinese School, 164
Chinese Engineers Laying a Military Telegraph, 165
Chinese School Girl, 167
Chinese Artist, 168
Chinese Barber, 169
[Female Types and Costumes, facing 170]
Porter’s Chair, 171
Chinese Emperor, King of Corea, and Chinese Officials, 175
Buddhist Temple, 178
Temple of Five Hundred Gods, at Canton, 181
Japanese Musician, 184
The Mikado and his Principal Officers, 187
Japanese God of Thunder, 189
Japanese God of Riding, 190
Japanese Peasantry, 192
Japanese God of War, 196
Tokio Types and Costumes, 198
Japanese Musician, 199
Japanese Silk Spinner, 200
Colossal Japanese Image, 205
Japanese Female Types, 207
Shinto Temple, 209
Japanese God of Wind, 211
Daimios of Japan, 212
Sketch Showing Development of Japanese Army, 213
Buddhist Priest, 215
Japanese Junk, 218
Old Time Japanese Ferry, 220
Scenes of Industrial Life, 221
Japanese Bell Towers, 229
Image of Buddha, 232
Japanese Samurai or Warrior of the Old Time, 233
Japanese General of the Old Time, 234
Japanese Bridge, 235
Baptism of Buddha, 240
Woman of Court of Kioto, 249
Chinese Coolie, 254
Japanese Gymnasts—Kioto, 256
Formosan Type, 258
Entrance to Nagasaki Harbor, 261
Fuji-yama, 267
Japanese Idols, 272
Japanese Jugglers, 277
Japanese Court Dress, Old Style, 281
Council of War on a Japanese Battle-Ship, 284
Dressing the Hair, 287
Child Carrying Baby, 291
The Chinese Fleet at Wei-hai-wei, 293
Japanese Bath, 296
Japanese Couch, 299
Sketches in Japan and Corea, 304
Geisha Girls Playing Japanese Musical Instruments, 307
Japanese Alphabet, New, 308
Japanese Alphabet, Old, 309
Shinto Priest, 311
Japanese Troops Landing at Chemulpo, 313
Street Scenes, 316
The Ainos, 319
Rats as Rice Merchants, 321
Corean Landscape, 324
Raw Levies for the Chinese Army, 326
Pagoda at Seoul, 333
Corean Soldiers, 334
Fighting Before the Gate of Seoul, 335
Old Man in Corea, 337
Coast Near Chemulpo, 342
Corean Mandarins, 347
Colossal Corean Idol—Un-jin Miriok, 358
Map Showing Japan, Corea and Part of China, 368
Corean Bull Harrowing, 375
Corean City Wall, 376
Chinese Protected Cruiser Chih-Yuen, 377
Gate of Seoul, 381
Naval Attack on the Chen-Yuen Before Chemulpo, 384
Corean Magistrate and Servant, 387
Japanese Naval Attack on Forts at Wei-hai-wei, 390
Statesman on Monocycle, 393
Corean Brush Cutter, 394
Porters With Chair, 395
Japanese Warship, “Yoshino,” 399
Corean Boat, 403
The Battle at Asan, 405
Corean Eggseller, 407
Japanese Soldiers Descending from the Castle at 412
Fenghwang,
Corean Band of Musicians, 413
Japanese Coolies Following the Army, 418
Japanese Army at Chiu-lien-cheng, 421
The Corean Regent, 424
Corean Natives Viewing Japanese Soldiers, 427
Sinking of the Kow-shing, 432
Mr. Otori Before the Commissioners, 434
Japanese Army on the March, 436
Procession in Seoul, 439
After the Battle, 441
The Attack on Ping-Yang, 448
Opening the Gates at Ping-Yang, 454
Fighting at Foochow, 463
Capture of Ping-Yang, 469
First Sight of Ping-Yang, 473
Battle of the Yalu—Sinking of the Chih-Yuen, 476
Bringing in the Wounded, 478
The Mikado Reviewing the Army, 480
Corean Police Agent, 481
Japanese Kitchen in Camp, 482
Japanese Soldier Saluting a Field Cemetery, 484
Crowd in Tokio Looking at Pictures of the War, 485
Japanese Ambulance Officer, 487
Chinamen Mutilating Remains of Japanese Soldiers, 488
The Ping-Yuen, 489
The Yoshino, 494
Japanese Advance at the Crossing of the Yalu River, 496
The Matsusima, 497
H. Sakomoto, 498
Japanese Infantry Attacking a Chinese Position, 505
Principal Street of Mukden, 509
Chinese Troops Trying to Save Their Artillery, 512
Transporting Chinese Troops, 513
Japanese Military Hospital, 515
Review of Chinese Troops at Port Arthur, 518
Japanese Soldiers Digging Well, 521
Constantine von Hannecken, 526
The Attack on Port Arthur, 527
Surrender of Chinese General and Staff, 533
Map of Territory Adjacent to the Mouth of the Yalu, 535
Japanese Army Crossing the Yalu on a Pontoon Bridge, 537
The Japanese at Port Arthur, 540
Sinking of the Kow-shing, 547
Naval Skirmish July 25th, 548
Routed Chinese Flying Before the Victorious Enemy, 549
Skirmish on July 27th, 551
Before the Wall of Seoul, 552
Japanese Cavalrymen, 558
Port Arthur—Transports Entering the Inner Harbor, 560
General Nodzu, 562
Chinese Earthworks, 564
View of Talien-wan Bay, 565
Port Arthur—Japanese Coolies Removing Chinese Dead, 569
Japanese Skirmishers before Port Arthur, 577
Retreat of Chinese Soldiers After the Fall of Port 580
Arthur,
Japanese Soldiers Removing Dead Bodies, 581
Japanese Attack on Port Arthur, 587
The Attack on Kinchow, 589
Port Arthur from the Bay, 593
Japanese Soldiers Mutilating Bodies, 599
Marshal Oyama, 603
Chang Yen Hoon, 610
Distant View of Wei-hai-wei and its Surroundings, 630
Admiral McClure, 639
Japanese Soldiers Escorting Chinese Prisoners, 640
Chinese Soldiers on the March, 645
Chinese Soldier Laden with Provision, 649
Gap in the Great Wall at Shan-hai-kwan, 653
INTRODUCTION.
The unexpected news of war between the Mikado’s Empire and the Celestial
Kingdom has startled the whole world. Thereby considerable light was
thrown upon the Oriental world.
Japan, up to a very short time ago, through the pen and tongue of poets
and artists, who have visited this land, has been thought to be merely a
country of beautiful flowers, charming mademoiselles, fantastic
parasols, fans and screens. Such misrepresentation has long impressed
the western mind, and the people hardly imagined Japan as a political
power, enlightened by a perfect educational system and developed to a
high pitch of excellence in naval and military arts.
The war in the East is certainly interesting from more than one point of
view. Viewing it from the humane standpoint, Japan is, indeed, the true
standard-bearer of civilization and progress in the far east. Her
mission is to enlighten the millions of slumbering souls in the
Celestial Kingdom, darkened for generations. Politically, she, with her
enterprising genius, youthful courage and alert brain, as well as the
art and science of civilization, has lifted herself into the ranks of
the most powerful nations of the earth, and compelled the whole of the
western powers to reckon her as a “living force,” as she has proved her
right to a proud place among the chief powers of the world.
Commercially, she has demonstrated herself the mistress of the Pacific
and Asiatic Seas.
From the outbreak of the war all the civilized nations, except England,
have sympathized with Japan, especially the people of America have given
a strong moral support to Japan, not because this country is the warmest
friend of Japan, but because Japan is, to-day, the propagandist of
civilization and humanity in the far east.
At the beginning of the hostilities a majority of the people had an
erroneous idea that the overwhelming population and resources of China
would soon be able to crush the Island Empire of Japan; but they
overlooked the fact that in our day it is science, brains and courage,
together with the perfected organization of warfare that grasp the palm
of victory. Thousands of sheep could do nothing against a ferocious
wolf. So the numerical comparison has but little weight.
Some sagacious writer compared Japan to a lively swordfish and China to
a jellyfish, being punctured at every point. Truly Japan has proved it
so.
From the sinking of the Kow-shing transport, up to the present time,
Japan has an unbroken series of victories over China. At the battle of
Asan she gained the first brilliant victories and swept all the Chinese
put of Corea, and at Ping-Yang, by both tactics and superb strategy,
crushed the best army of China, which Li Hung Chang brought up to the
greatest efficiency, by the aid of many European officers, as if it had
been an egg shell. Again, at the mouth of the Yalu River, she gained a
brilliant naval victory over China, by completely destroying the
Ping-Yang squadron. Once more on the land the Japanese army stormed Port
Arthur, the strongest naval fort, known as the Gibraltar of China.
All these facts are viewed with amazement by the eyes of the world. For
all that the people know about Japan and the Japanese is that the people
of Japan are very artistic, as the producers of beautiful porcelain,
embroidery, lacquer work and all sorts of artistic fancy goods, and they
wonder how it is possible that such an artistic people as the Japanese
could fight against sober, calm Chinamen. But such an erroneous notion
would soon vanish if they came to learn the true nature and character of
the Japanese.
More than once the world has seen that an artistic nation could fight.
The Greeks demonstrated this long ago, and the French in the latter
times have shown a shining example. Japan is reckoned as one of the most
artistic people in the world, as the producer of beautiful things, as
the lover of fine arts and natural beauties. The Japanese have proved
the same as what the ancient Greeks and modern French have shown. The
history of Japan reveals the true color of the Japanese as brilliant
fighters and a warlike nation. “In no country,” says Mr. Rogers, “has
military instinct been more pronounced in the best blood of the people.
Far back in the past, beyond that shadowy line where legend and history
blend, their story has been one of almost continual war, and the
straightest path to distinction and honor has, from the earliest times,
led across the battle field. The statesmen of Japan saw, as did Cavour,
that the surest way to win the respect of nations was by success in
war.”
The ancestor of the Japanese people, who claim to have descended from
high heaven, seems to have been the descendant of the ancient Hittites,
the warlike and conquering tribe once settled in the plain of
Mesopotamia. The Hittites, so far as our investigation is concerned,
extending their sway of conquest towards the north-eastern portion of
Asia, must have, at last, brought the Japanese family to the island of
Japan. As they settled on the island, they found it inhabited by many
different tribes; but they soon vanquished them and established the
everlasting foundation of the Mikado’s Empire, which they called the
“Glorious Kingdom of Military Valour.” The first Mikado was Jimmu, whose
coronation took place two thousand five hundred and fifty-four years
ago, long before Alexander the Great thought he had conquered the world
and Julius Cæsar entered Gaul. The present Mikado is the one hundred and
twenty-second lineal descendant of the first Mikado Jimmu. The unbroken
dynasty of the Mikado has continued for twenty-five centuries. The
people are brave, adventurous and courageous. Fanatical patriotism for
country and strong loyalty towards the Mikado are essential
characteristics of the Japanese people. And all these tend to form the
peculiar nationality of Japan. Since the establishment of the Mikado’s
Empire their land has never been defiled by invaders and they have never
known how to be subject to a foreign yoke. The history of Japan is the
pride of the Japanese people.
The Japanese, in an early time, have displayed their superior courage
and distinguished themselves from the rest of the Asiatic nations in the
point of military affairs.
In the year A.D. 201 the Empress Jingo, the greatest female character in
the Japanese history, undertook a gigantic expedition to the Asiatic
continent. She assembled an immense army and built a great navy. Placing
herself as the commander-in-chief of the invading army, she sailed for
the continent. Her victory was brilliant. Corea was at once subjected
without any bloodshed. Long since the Japanese power was established on
the Asiatic continent.
Again in the sixteenth century, ambitious Taiko, who is known as the
Napoleon of Japan, undertook a great continental expedition, to show the
military glory of Japan before the world. He found Japan too small to
satisfy his immoderate ambition, and sent word to the emperor of China
and the king of Corea that if they would not hear him, he would invade
their territory with his invincible army. It was his plan to divide the
four hundred provinces of China and eight provinces of Corea among his
generals in fiefs, after conquering them. So he assembled his generals
and fired their enthusiasm, recounting their exploits mutually achieved.
All the generals and soldiers were delighted with the expedition. Fifty
thousand samurai were embarked for the continent and sixty thousand
reserve was kept ready in Japan as re-enforcement.
The Japanese army was everywhere victorious. After many battles fought
and fortresses stormed, the entire kingdom of Corea was subdued. The
capitol was taken, the king fled. The emperor of China sent an army
forward against the Japanese and a severe battle was fought. The
victorious Japanese were on the point of invading China, when in 1598,
the death of Taiko was announced and the Japanese government ordered the
invading army to return home. Peace was concluded. Thus the conquest of
China was frustrated.
The invasion of the Mongolian-Tartars is the most memorable event in
Japanese history, which excited the utmost patriotism and valour of the
nation. The dangers and glories at this time will never be forgotten by
the Japanese.
In the thirteenth century, Genghis Khan, who is now identified as
Minamoto Yoshitsune or Gen Gi Kei in Japanese history, who left Japan
for Manchilia, began his sway of conquest in Mongolia. The conquest of
the whole earth was promised him. He vanquished China, Corea and the
whole of Central and Northern Asia, subjected India and overthrew the
Caliphate of Bagdad. In Europe, he made subject the entire dominion of
Russia and extended the Mongolian Empire as far as the Oder and the
Danube. After his death the Empire was divided among his three sons.
Kublai Khan received as his share North-eastern Asia. He had completely
overthrown the Sung dynasty of China and founded the Mongolian dynasty.
He placed the whole of Eastern Asia under his yoke, and then sent envoys
to Japan, demanding tributes and homage. The nation of Japan was
indignant at the insolent demand, for they were never accustomed to such
treatment, and dismissed them in disgrace. Six embassies were sent and
six times rejected. Again, the haughty Mongolian prince sent nine
envoys, who demanded a definite answer from the Japanese sovereign. The
Japanese reply was given by cutting off their heads.
At the sight of imminent foreign invasion, the Japanese were in a great
hurry to prepare for war. Once more, and for the last time, Chinese
envoys came to demand tribute; again the sword gave the answer. Enraged,
the great Mongolian prince prepared a gigantic armada to crush the
island of Japan, which had refused homage and tribute to the invincible
conqueror. The army, consisting of one hundred thousand Chinese and
Tartars and seven thousand Coreans, aided by thirty-five hundred of
armed navy, that seemed to cover the entire seas, sailed for the
invasion in August of 1281. The whole nation of Japan now roused with
sword in hand and marched against its formidable foe. Re-enforcements
poured in from all quarters to swell the host of defenders. The fierce
Mongolian force could not effect their landing, but were driven into the
sea as soon as they reached the shore. Aided by a mighty typhoon, before
which the Chinese armada was utterly helpless, the Japanese fiercely
attacked the invaders and after a bloody struggle, they succeeded in
destroying the enemy’s war ships, and killing all or driving them into
the sea to be drowned. The corpses were piled on the shore or floating
on the water so thickly that it seemed almost possible to walk thereon.
Only three out of hundreds of thousands of invaders, were sent back to
tell their emperor how the brave men of Japan had destroyed their
armada.
The courage of the Japanese is fully manifested in these great events.
Many ambitious men, seeking for military glory, have expatriated
themselves from their own native lands, and gone off to the less warlike
countries of Asia, where they found themselves by their distinguished
courage and military genius, kings, ministers and generals.
The Japanese seamen have long been renowned for their adventurous spirit
and audacity. Trading ships of Japan, in the remotest ancient age, are
said to have sailed around the Persian Gulf, beyond the Indian seas. It
is said that at the beginning of the fourteenth century a Japanese junk
had discovered the American Pacific sea-coast, now known as the regions
of Oregon and California. For a long time the Japanese pirates were the
mistress of all the eastern seas. China, Siam, Birmah and the southern
islands had paid tribute to them. The name of the Japanese was, indeed,
the terror of the Oriental world, just as the northmen had been the
object of dread to the southern Europeans.
A policy, that was adopted by the Japanese people in the seventeenth
century, was an injurious one for its national development. Up to this
time, foreign intercourse was free and commerce flourished. Nagasaki,
Hirado, Satsuma, and all western seaports were the cosmopolitan cities,
where all European and Asiatic tradesmen were found crowded.
Unfortunately these foreigners were sources of vice. The avarice and
extortion of the foreign traders; bitter sectarian strife between
Dominicans, Franciscans and the Jesuits; and the most cruel intolerance
and persecution by the Catholic people, which were vices unknown to the
Japanese mind; political-religious plots of the Christians against the
Japanese government; the slave trade carried on by the foreign
merchants, and the like events, disgusted the Japanese authority, and
forced them to believe the exclusion of the vicious foreigners was
absolutely necessary to the welfare of Japan. Thus the Japanese resolved
to expel all foreigners out of the islands. Tokugawa, the founder of Tai
Kun shogunate, vigorously enforced this principle and carried it so far
that all the Roman Catholics both native and foreign were extinguished
and all foreign merchants except a few Dutch, were expelled out of the
country. The policy of the Tokugawa Government not only excluded the
foreigners but also kept the natives at home. No foreigners (except the
Dutch) were allowed to peep in this forbidden land and no native was
permitted to leave his own country. Thus it was cut off from all the
rest of the world. Japan furnishes different varieties of productions,
which can amply supply all the needs of the nation without any
inconvenience; hence commercial intercourse with foreign lands, was not
absolutely necessary. In the course of time she had forgotten all about
the outside world and so the world neglected her.
The people, however, enjoyed a profound peace by this policy. Ignoring
the rise and fall of other nations, the people in this ocean guarded
paradise, cultivated arts and learning and developed their own
civilization, which is quite different from what we call now the
civilization of the nineteenth century. While thus she was enjoying
tranquility and cultivating the arts and learning in a secluded corner
of the earth, in the western nations, endless struggles and everlasting
contests completely revolutionized the old phases of the earth. The
peace and culture of two centuries and a half, which Japan has enjoyed,
exalted her to the certain state of civilization. But her isolated
condition and tranquility lacked the systematic development of army and
navy and the arts of international negotiation, which are the weapons
vitally important in order to stand on the field of struggle for
existence.
Suddenly this tranquility that has continued for two hundred and fifty
years, was broken, when in 1853, the war ships of Commodore Perry
appeared in the Bay of Yeddo. This event threw into great confusion and
panic the whole nation. Japan had no navy and no army to fight with the
foreign intruders, nor had she the art of diplomacy, with which to
consult in regard to the protection of Japan’s interest. Japan stood
then with her naked civilization against the armed civilization of
Europe. She was forced to make a disadvantageous treaty with the
European and American states at the cannon’s mouth. In this treaty she
conceded her sovereign right to the western people who live in the
realm.
Thus Japan entered, infamously, the group of the civilized world. She
saw at once that the western nations were far in advance of her in the
art of war and diplomacy, that they have learned from the constant
struggle of the past three centuries, while she was devoted to arts and
learning. She perceived that the so-called civilization of the 19th
century is but a disguised form of barbarism of iron and fire, covered
with comity and humanity, and that to exist in the field of struggle for
existence she must adopt the same means by which the European nations
stand. Hence the whole nation of Japan, since the intercourse with the
western people, has struggled, with the utmost energy, to adopt what is
called the 19th century civilization.
In 1868 a revolution took place, from which the New Japan suddenly
emanated. The French Revolution did not cause greater changes in France
than the Revolution of 1868 in Japan. The old feudal regime, in full
force, was cast away. The social system was completely reorganized. New
and enlightened criminal and civil codes were enacted; the modes of
judicial procedure were utterly revolutionized; the jail system
radically improved; the most effective organization of police, of posts,
of railways, of telegraphs, telephones and all means of communication
were adopted; enlightened methods of national education were employed;
and the Christian religion was welcomed for the sake of social
innovation. The most complete national system of navy and army, after
the modern European model, was achieved. The sound order of the imperial
government, financially and politically, were firmly established; the
most improved and extended scheme of local government was put into
operation, and the central government was organized according to the
pattern of the most advanced scale. The imperial constitution was
promulgated, and the Imperial Diet, consisting of two houses—the House
of Lords and House of Commons—elected by popular votes, was founded.
Freedom of thought, speech and faith was established; the system of an
influential press and party rapidly grew up. Now the monarchial
absolutism of the Mikado’s Empire is replaced by a government by
parliament and constitution.
[Illustration: BATTLE OF THE YALU.—Japanese Drawing.]
Such is the progress which Japan has achieved in the past twenty-five
years. This progress must not, by any means, be taken as strange. The
Revolution of 1868 also, must not be imagined as the birthday of the
Empire of the Rising Sun. Those who do not know the true condition of
the Japanese before the Revolution, and who observe superficially the
phases of modern Japan, have often said that the Japanese are merely
imitating western civilization without any idea of understanding it.
This a gross mistake. The Revolution of 1868 is merely a moment of
transition when Japan adopted the western system. The Japanese mind was
fully developed and enlightened, at the time when they came in contact
with foreigners, to fully grasp western civilization. Mentally, the
Japanese people were so enlightened as to be able to digest European
science and art at one glance. As a clever writer has said: “It must be
clearly understood that like a skillful gardener, who grafts a new rose
or an apple upon a healthy and well-established stock, so did Japan
adopt the scientific and civil achievement of the west to an eastern
root, full of vigorous life and latent force.” For these causes we have
no reason to wonder at the rapid progress which the Japanese have made
in the past twenty-five years. And by all these facts, we have no reason
to wonder how the colossal Celestial Empire, that was thought by the
Europeans invincible, came to ask the mercy of Japan.
The collision between Japan and China, though it was thought strange to
those who are not familiar to eastern affairs, is not a surprising
matter to the person well acquainted with Asiatic politics. Japan had
predicted, long ago, that the inevitable conflict of the two powers in
the Orient must come sooner or later, and the nation has been long
prepared for to-day. She has perceived the weakness and corruption of
the Celestial Empire, while the European diplomats were dazzled, in the
court of Peking, by an outward appearance of unity, power, and majesty
that the huge Middle Kingdom maintained for centuries. She knew quite
well that the lack of national spirit and effective system of
government, hatred of races, depravity of the officers, ignorance of the
people, corruption of naval and military organization and constant
maladministration of the Manchoorian government dominated the stupid
empire, whose people still proudly style their country the “Flowery
Kingdom, in the Enlightened Earth.”
The Japanese, as they are polite and artistic, are by no means a
blood-thirsty race; nay, far from that. But the present war is in an
inevitable chain of circumstances. For a long time the Japanese and
Chinese were not good friends, they hated each other, as much, if not
more than the French and the Germans do to-day.
Since Japan came in contact with the Europeans, she adopted, with the
most marvelous activity, the western methods which have completely
revolutionized the nation in a quarter of a century, while China
maintained her regime and looked upon all western arts and science with
utmost hatred and contempt. So she regarded Japan as the traitor of
Asia. Naturally Japan represented the civilization and progress in the
far east; and China ultra-conservatism. It was long expected that the
collision of these two antagonistic principles must come. And so it has
now come.
Moreover, the goal of Japan was, as the leading spirit of Asia, to exalt
herself among the first-class powers of the civilized world. But China,
up to a very short time ago, pretended to be the mistress of Asia. Thus
they envied each other, and conflict of the two powers for supremacy
became inevitable. The first collision between Japan and China came in
1874, with the question of the Liu Kiu Islands, which China abandoned
for Japan, then the Formosa expedition provoked serious trouble between
the two countries. In both cases Japan came off successful in the end.
Again there were collisions in Corea, just as Rome and Carthage met in
Sicily. Corea has for a long time, paid tribute both to Japan and China,
yet neither had any definite sovereign right over Corea, but mere
suzerain powers. In 1875, the Japanese government abandoned all her
ancient, traditional suzerain rights in Corea, and concluded a treaty
which recognized Corea as an independent State, enjoying the same
sovereign powers as Japan. Soon after, the United States, England,
France, Germany and Russia followed Japan’s example. This friendly act
of Japan by which she introduced Corea as an independent State among
civilized nations, was a terrible blow to China, who still had the
intention of claiming her traditional suzerainty over Corea. It must be
remembered that the permanent neutrality of the Hermit Kingdom is of
vital importance to the prosperity and safety of the country of the
Rising Sun. It is evident from this point of view that Japan can never
permit the Chinese claim of suzerainty, nor Russian aggression in Corea.
From the time that Japan recognized Corea as an independent nation, she
made great efforts for the progress of Corea. Many Corean students were
educated and many Japanese, sent there as instructors and as advisors,
assisted the advancement of her civilization. Japan has never failed to
show her friendly sympathy towards Corea, for the progress and welfare
of Corea as a firm independent state, has great bearing upon Asiatic
civilization, and upon the safety of Japan itself.
While Japan was using her best efforts as the sincere friend of Corea,
China constantly and secretly intrigued with the Corean government and
the conservatives, in order to restore her old suzerainty and to
annihilate Japan’s influence in Corea. In 1882, an insurrection,
instigated by the Chinese officers, broke out in Seoul. It was directed
chiefly against the Japanese, as the promoters of foreign intercourse.
The mob attacked the Japanese legation and several members were
murdered. The Japanese minister and his staff escaped to the palace to
find refuge, but found there the gates were shut against them, then they
were obliged to cut their way through the mob and run all night to
Chemulpo, where they were rescued by an English boat and returned to
Japan. The insurrection was suppressed by a Chinese force and a number
of the leaders were executed. The Corean government consented to pay a
sum of $500,000 as indemnity, but this was subsequently forgiven to
Corea in consequence of inability to pay it. There were already existing
in Corea two parties, that is, the progressive and the conservative. The
former party represented civilized elements and the spirit of Japan,
while the latter represented the majority of the officers and it was
supported by the Chinese government. These two parties were bitter
enemies and struggled for supremacy.
Since the rebellion of 1882, Chinese influence in Corea rapidly
increased, consequently the conservative spirit predominated. Two years
later, the leaders of the progressive party undertook a bold attempt
when they saw that their party influence was waning. During a dinner
party to celebrate the opening of the new post-office, a plan was made
to murder all the conservative leaders who had dominant influence in the
government. They partly succeeded in the attempt. The revolutionary
leaders proceeded to the palace, secured the person and the sympathy of
the king, who sent an autograph letter to ask the Japanese minister for
the protection of the royal palace. Thereon, the Japanese minister
guarded the palace for a few days with his legation guard of one hundred
and thirty Japanese soldiers. In the meantime the Chinese force in
Seoul, two thousand in number proceeded to the palace, and without any
negotiation or explanation fired upon the Japanese guard. The king fled
to the Chinese army and the Japanese retired to the palace of their
legation which they found surrounded by the Chinese army. They abandoned
the spot, finding it impossible to maintain the legation without any
provisions, fought their way to Chemulpo, where they found their way to
Japan. Many Japanese were killed in this event. The Japanese government
demanded satisfaction from China on account of the action of the Chinese
soldiers. The convention of Tien-tsin, after long negotiation between
Count Ito, the present premier of Japan and Li Hung Chang, the viceroy
of China, was concluded. The main points of the Tien-tsin treaty were
three: (1) that the king of Corea should provide a sufficient force to
maintain order in future, to be trained by officers of some nation other
than China or Japan; (2) that certain internal reforms should be made;
(3) that if necessary to preserve order and protect their nations either
Japan or China should have the right to dispatch troops to Corea, on
giving notice each to the other, and that when order was restored both
forces should be withdrawn simultaneously.
The event of 1885 completely extinguished the Japanese influence and
established the Chinese authority in Corea. The Chinese minister in
Seoul got complete possession of the Corean government, entirely crushed
the revolutionary party and organized an ultra-conservative government
and appointed ministers at his will. Japan’s influence in Corea has been
almost nill during the past ten years, for she has been very busy with
her internal reorganization and has not had much time to look after
Corea.
[Illustration: THE FIGHT AT PING-YANG.]
Two prominent leaders of the revolutionary party fled to Japan on
account of the failure of the coup d'état of 1885, where they found
their asylum. The Chinese and Corean governments dispatched missions to
demand the extradition of these unfortunate political reformers, but
Japan was firm in her refusal, on the ground of the ethics of
international law. The Corean government, sanctioned by that of China,
at once began to take measures to effect the removal of these ruined
leaders by other processes. Official assassins followed their footsteps
for ten years in vain. But at last they succeeded in murdering
Kim-ok-Kiun, one of those reformers, and most barbarous cruelties were
committed by the Chinese and Corean authorities. The murder of
Kim-ok-Kiun excited great sympathy from the Japanese public. Many a time
China and Corea cast disdain and contempt upon Japan’s name. Many a time
the political and commercial interest of Japan were impaired by them.
Yet Japan forgave their insolence with generous heart.
The progress of the late rebellion in Corea was beyond her power to
check. A state of perpetual anarchy seemed to prevail. Insolent China
seemed to be using the Corean mobs for her own advantage, and directly
against Japan’s interests. China, ignoring the treaty of Tien-tsin in
1885, sent troops to Corea. Japan no longer lightly viewed China’s
insolence and Corean disorder.
Japan’s ardent need to take a decided step in Corea, at this moment
seemed a more cogent one in the commercial point of view than her
political interest. The greater part of the modern trade of Corea has
been created by Japan and is in the hands of her merchants; the net
value of Corean direct foreign trade for 1892 and 1893 together was
$4,240,498 with China, while $8,306,571 with Japan. Hence the interest
of Japan is twice that of China. In tonnage of shipping the proportion
is vastly greater in favor of Japan. Her tonnage in 1893 was over twenty
times that of China, as the exact figures show: tonnage—China, 14,376;
Japan, 304,224. Thus Japan’s economic interests in Corea are decidedly
greater than any other nation’s.
Immediately after China sent troops to Corea, Japan, also, sent her
force, to preserve her political as well as economic interests, and
determined not to draw back her troops until Corea should restore the
sound order of society and wipe out the Chinese claim of Corean
suzerainty, for so long as Chinese influence predominates in Corea, any
thoughts of her advancement are hopeless. For a long maladministration
of the Li government had weakened the Hermit Kingdom. The country is no
more than a desert and its people are plunged in the most miserable
poverty of any in the poverty-stricken east. The Japanese government
proposed to the Chinese government according to the Tien-tsin treaty, a
measure of internal reform for Corea, which was rejected with insult by
the Chinese authority.
At first Japan had, by no means, any intention to make war with China,
but she was forced by her to enter the struggle. She has never infringed
the ethics of international law, nor the comity of nations. It was China
that provoked the eastern war, now raging in the Orient, but not Japan;
the true idea of Japan, in the war, is, by conquest, to put the blame on
China for refusing to adhere faithfully to the spirit of her treaties
and for trying to keep Corea in barbarism, and for endeavoring to stop
the progress of civilization in Eastern Asia. Her mission in the east is
to crush the insolent and ignorant self-conceit of the Peking government
and to reform the barbarous abuses of the Corean administration.
Therefore Japan fights to-day for the sake of civilization and humanity.
After the eastern war was declared, four months had hardly passed, until
the fighting power and the economic resources of the Chinese Empire were
destroyed and exhausted. China was forced to beg the mercy of Japan. The
banner of the “Rising Sun” is now triumphant. Japan dictating the terms
of peace, signifies the beginning of a better era for benighted China
and the preservation of permanent peace in the Orient.
JULIUS KUMPÉI MATUMOTO, A.M.,
Tokio, Japan.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
_CHINA_
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: CHINESE MUSICIAN.]
HISTORICAL SKETCH OF CHINA FROM THE EARLIEST
TIMES TO FIRST CONTACT WITH
EUROPEAN CIVILIZATION.
--------------
Origin of Chinese People—Legends—Golden Age of China—Beginnings of
Authentic History—Dynasty of Chow—Cultivation of Literature and
Progress—Music, Slavery, Household Habits Three Thousand Tears
Ago—Confucius and his Work—First Emperor of China—Burning of Books—Han
Dynasty—Famous Men of the Period—Paper Money and Printing—Invasions of
Tartars and Mongols—Sung Dynasty—Literary Works—Famous Chinese
Poet—Literature, Law and Medicine—Kublai Khan—Ming Dynasty—Private
Library of a Chinese Emperor—Founding of the Present Dynasty—Connection
Between Chinese History and the Rest of the World.
Obscurity shrouds the origin of the Chinese race. The Chinese people
cannot be proved to have originally come from anywhere beyond the limits
of the Chinese empire. At the remotest period to which investigations
can satisfactorily go back, without quitting the domain of history for
that of legend, we find them already in existence as an organized, and
as a more or less civilized nation. Previous to that time, their
condition had doubtless been that of nomadic tribes, but whether as
immigrants or as true sons of the soil there is scarcely sufficient
evidence to show. Conjecture, however, based for the most part upon
coincidences of speech, writing or manners and customs, has been busy
with their ultimate origin; and they have been variously identified with
the Turks, with the Chaldees, with the earliest inhabitants of Ireland,
and with the lost tribes of Israel.
The most satisfactory, however, of recent conclusions, based on most
careful investigations are as follows: The first records we have of them
represent the Chinese as a band of immigrants settling in the
north-eastern provinces of the modern empire of China and fighting their
way amongst the aborigines much as the Jews of old forced their way into
Canaan against the various tribes which they found in possession of the
land. It is probable that though they all entered China by the same
route they separated into bands almost on the threshold of the empire,
one body, those who have left us the records of their history in the
ancient Chinese books, apparently following the course of the Yellow
river, and turning southward with it from its northernmost bend,
settling themselves in the fertile districts of the modern provinces of
Shan-hsi and Honan. But as it is believed also that at about the same
period a large settlement was made as far south as Anam of which there
is no mention in the books of the northern Chinese, we must assume that
another body struck directly southward through the southern provinces of
China to that country.
Many writers answer the question that arises as to whence these people
came, by declaring that research directly points to the land south of
the Caspian sea. They find many reasons in the study of languages which
furnish philological proof of this assertion. And they affirm that in
all probability the outbreak in Susiana of possibly some political
disturbance in about the 24th or 23rd century B.C., drove the Chinese
from the land of their adoption and that they wandered eastward until
they finally settled in China and the country south of it. Such an
emigration is by no means unusual in Asia. We know that the Ottoman
Turks originally had their home in northern Mongolia, and we have a
record of the movement at the end of last century of a body of six
hundred thousand Kalmucks from Russia to the confines of China. It would
appear also that the Chinese came into China possessed of the resources
of western Asian culture. They brought with them a knowledge of writing
and astronomy as well as of the arts which primarily minister to the
wants and comforts of mankind.
[Illustration: CHINESE IDEA OF CREATION.]
According to one native authority, China, that is, the world was evolved
out of chaos exactly 3,276,494 years ago. This evolution was brought
about by the action of a First Cause or Force which separated into two
principles, active and passive, male and female. Or as some native
writers explain it, out of a great egg came a man. Out of the upper half
of the egg he created the heavens and out of the lower half he created
the earth. He created five elements, earth, water, fire, metal and wood.
Out of the vapor from gold he created man and out of vapor from wood he
created woman. Traditional pictures of this first man and first woman
represent them wearing for dress, girdles of fig leaves. He created the
sun to rule the day, the moon to rule the night, and the stars. Those
who care to go deeper into these traditions than the limits of this work
permit will find ample material for interesting research in the
analogies to Christian history.
These principles, male and female, found their material embodiment in
heaven and earth and became the father and mother of all things,
beginning with man, who was immediately associated with them in a
triumvirate of creative powers. Then ensued ten immense periods, the
last of which has been made by some Chinese writers on chronology to end
where every sober history of China should begin, namely, with the
establishment of the Chow dynasty eleven hundred years before the birth
of Christ. During this almost immeasurable lapse of time, the process of
development was going on, involving such discoveries as the production
of fire, the construction of houses, boats and wheeled vehicles, the
cultivation of grain, and mutual communication by means of writing.
The father of Chinese history chose indeed to carry us back to the court
of the Yellow Emperor, B.C. 2697, and to introduce us to his successors
Yao and Shun and to the great Yu, who by his engineering skill had
drained away a terrible inundation which some have sought to identify
with Noah’s flood.
[Illustration: EMPEROR SHUN PLOWING.]
This flood was in Shun’s reign. The waters we are told rose to so great
a height that the people had to betake themselves to the mountains to
escape death. Most of the provinces of the existing empire were
inundated. The disaster arose, as many similar disasters, though of less
magnitude, have since arisen, in consequence of the Yellow river
bursting its bounds, and the great Yu was appointed to lead the waters
back to their channel. With unremitting energy he set about his task,
and in nine years succeeded in bringing the river under his control.
During this period so absorbed was he in his work, that we are told he
took heed neither of food nor clothing, and that thrice he passed the
door of his house without once stopping to enter. At the completion of
his labors he divided the empire into nine instead of twelve provinces,
and tradition represents him as having engraved a record of his toils on
a stone tablet on Mount Heng in the province of Hoopih. As a reward for
the services he had rendered for the empire, he was invested with the
principality of Hea, and after having occupied the throne conjointly
with Shun for some years he succeeded that sovereign on his death in
2308 B.C.
[Illustration: VIEW FROM SUMMER PALACE, PEKING.]
But all these things were in China’s “golden age,” the true record of
which is shrouded for us in the obscurity of centuries. There were a few
laws, but never any occasion to exact the penalties attached to
misconduct. It was considered superfluous to close the house door at
night, and no one would even pick up any lost property that lay in the
high road. All was virtue, happiness and prosperity, the like of which
has not since been known. The Emperor Shun was raised from the plow
handle to the throne simply because of his filial piety, in recognition
of which wild beasts used to come and voluntarily drag his plow for him
through the furrowed fields, while birds of the air would hover round
and guard his sprouting grain from the depredations of insects.
This of course is not history; and but little more can be said for the
accounts given of the two dynasties which ruled China between the
“golden age” and the opening reigns of the House of Chow. The historian
in question had not many sources of information at command. Beside
tradition, of which he largely availed himself, the chief of these was
the hundred chapters that had been edited by Confucius from the
historical remains of those times, now known as the “Book of History.”
This contains an unquestionable foundation of facts, pointing to a
comparatively advanced state of civilization, even so far back as two
thousand years before our era; but the picture is dimly seen and many of
its details are of little practical value. This calculation declares
that with Yu began the dynasty of Hea which gave place in 1766 B.C. to
the Shang dynasty. The last sovereign of the Hea line, Kieh Kwei, is
said to have been a monster of iniquity and to have suffered the just
punishment for his crimes at the hands of T'ang, the prince of the state
of Shang, who took his throne from him. In like manner, six hundred and
forty years later, Woo Wang, the prince of Chow, overthrew Chow Sin, the
last of the Shang dynasty, and established himself as the chief of the
sovereign state of the empire.
It is only with the dynasty of the Chows that we begin to feel ourselves
on safe ground, though long before that date the Chinese were
undoubtedly enjoying a far higher civilization than fell to the share of
most western nations until many centuries later. The art of writing had
been already fully developed, having passed, if we are to believe native
researches from an original system of knotted cords, through successive
stages of notches on wood and rude outlines of natural objects down to
the phonetic stage in which it exists at the present day. Astronomical
observations of a simple kind had been made and recorded and the year
divided into months. The rite of marriage had been substituted for
capture; and although cowries were still employed and remained in use
until a much later date, metallic coins of various shapes and sizes
began to be recognized as a more practicable medium of exchange. Music,
both vocal and instrumental, was widely cultivated; and a kind of solemn
posturing filled the place that has been occupied by dancing among
nations farther to the west. Painting, charioteering and archery were
reckoned among the fine arts; the crossbow especially being a favorite
weapon either on the battle field or on the chase. The people seem to
have lived upon rice and cabbage, pork and fish, much as they do now;
they also drank the ardent spirit distilled from rice vulgarly known as
“Samshoo” and clad themselves in silk, or their own coarse home stuffs
according to the means of each. All this is previous to the dynasty of
Chow with which it is now proposed to begin.
The Chows rose to power over the vices of preceding rulers, aided by the
genius of a certain duke or chieftain of the Chow state, though he
personally never reached the imperial throne. It was his more famous son
who in B.C. 1122 routed the forces of the last tyrant of the
semi-legendary period and made himself master of China. The China of
those days consisted of a number of petty principalities clustering
round one central state and thus constituting a federation. The central
state managed the common affairs, while each one had its own local laws
and administration. It was in some senses a feudal age, somewhat similar
to that which prevailed in Europe for many centuries. The various dukes
were regarded as vassals owing allegiance to the sovereign at the head
of the imperial state, and bound to assist him with money and men in
case of need. And in order to keep together this mass, constantly in
danger of disintegration from strifes within, the sovereigns of the
House of Chow were forever summoning these vassal dukes to the capital
and making them renew, with ceremonies of sacrifice and potations of
blood, their vows of loyalty and treaties of alliance. At a great feast
held by Yu after his accession, there were, it is said, ten thousand
princes present with their symbols of rank. But the feudal states were
constantly being absorbed by one another. On the rise of the Shang
dynasty there were only somewhat over three thousand, which had
decreased to thirteen hundred when the sovereignty of the Chows was
established.
The senior duke always occupied a position somewhat closer to the
sovereign than the others. It was his special business to protect the
imperial territory from invasion by any malcontent vassal; and he was
often deputed to punish acts of insubordination and contumacy, relying
for help on the sworn faith of all the states as a body against any
individual recalcitrant. Such was the political condition of things
through a long series of reigns for nearly nine centuries, the later
history of this long and famous dynasty being simply the record of a
struggle against the increasing power and ambitious designs of the
vassal state of Ching, until at length the power of the latter not only
outgrew that of the sovereign state, but successfully defied the united
efforts of all the others combined together in a league. In 403 B.C. the
number of states had been reduced to seven great ones, all sooner or
later claiming to be “the kingdom,” and contending for the supremacy
until Ching put down all the others and in 221 B.C. its king assumed the
title of Hwang Ti or emperor and determined that there should be no more
feudal principalities, and that as there is but one sun in the sky there
should be but one ruler in the nation.
It is interesting to glance backward over these nine hundred years and
gather some facts as to the China of those days. The religion of the
Chinese was a modification of the older and simpler forms of nature
worship practised by their ruder forefathers. The principal objects of
veneration were still heaven and earth and the more prominent among the
destructive and beneficient powers of nature. But a tide of
personification and deification had begun to set in and to the spirits
of natural objects and influences now rapidly assuming material shape
had been added the spirits of departed heroes whose protection was
invoked after death by those to whom it had been afforded during life.
The sovereign of the Chow dynasty worshipped in a building which they
called “the hall of light,” which also served the purpose of an audience
and council chamber. It was 112 feet square and surmounted by a dome;
typical of heaven above and earth beneath. China has always been
remarkably backward in architectural development, never having got
beyond the familiar roof with its turned up corners, in which
antiquaries trace a likeness to the tent of their nomad days. Hence it
is that the “hall of light” of the Chows is considered by the Chinese to
have been a very wonderful structure.
[Illustration: CHINESE TEMPLE.]
Some have said that the Pentateuch was carried to China in the sixth
century B.C., but no definite traces of Judaism are discoverable until
several centuries later.
The Chow period was pre-eminently one of ceremonial observances pushed
to an extreme limit. Even Confucius was unable to rise above the dead
level of an ultra formal etiquette, which occupies in his teachings a
place altogether out of proportion to any advantages likely to accrue
from the most scrupulous compliance with its rules. During the early
centuries of this period laws were excessively severe and punishments
correspondingly barbarous; mutilation and death by burning or dissection
being among the enumerated penalties. From all accounts there speedily
occurred a marked degeneracy in the characters of the Chow kings. Among
the most conspicuous of the early kings was Muh, who rendered himself
notorious for having promulgated a penal code under which the redemption
of punishments was made permissible by the payment of fines.
Notwithstanding the spirit of lawlessness that spread far and wide among
the princes and nobles, creating misery and unrest throughout the
country, that literary instinct which has been a marked characteristic
of the Chinese throughout their long history continued as active as
ever. At stated intervals officials, we are told, were sent in light
carriages into all parts of the empire to collect words from the
changing dialects of each district; and at the time of the royal
progresses the official music masters and historiographers of each
principality presented to the officials appointed for the purpose,
collections of the odes and songs of each locality, in order, we are
told, that the character of the rule exercised by their princes should
be judged by the tone of the poetical and musical productions of their
subjects. The odes and songs as found and thus collected were carefully
preserved in royal archives, and it was from these materials, as is
commonly believed, that Confucius compiled the celebrated “She King” or
“Book of Odes.”
One hundred years before the close of the Chow dynasty, a great
statesman named Wei Yang appeared in the rising state of Ch’in and
brought about many valuable reformations. Among other things he
introduced a system of tithings, which has endured to the present day.
The unit of Chinese social life has always been the family and not the
individual; and this statesman caused the family to be divided into
groups of ten families to each, upon a basis of mutual protection and
responsibility. The soil of China has always been guarded as the
inalienable property of her imperial ruler for the time being, held in
trust by him on behalf of a higher and greater power whose vice-regent
he is. In the age of the Chows, land appears to have been cultivated
upon a system of communal tenure, one-ninth of the total produce being
devoted in all cases to the expenses of government and the maintenance
of the ruling family in each state. Copper coins of a uniform shape and
portable size were first cast, according to Chinese writers, about half
way through the sixth century B.C. An irregular form of money, however,
had been in circulation long before, one of the early vassal dukes
having been advised, in order to replenish his treasury, to “break up
the hills and make money out of the metal therein; to evaporate sea
water and make salt. This,” added his advising minister, “will benefit
the realm and with the profits you may buy up all kinds of goods cheap
and store them until the market has risen; establish also three hundred
depots of courtesans for the traders, who will thereby be induced to
bring all kinds of merchandise to your country. This merchandise you
will tax and thus have a sufficiency of funds to meet the expenses of
your army.” Such were some of the principles of finance and political
economy among the Chows, customs duties being apparently even at that
early date a recognized part of the revenue.
The art of healing was practised among the Chinese in their prehistoric
times, but the first quasi-scientific efforts of which we have any
record belong to the period with which we are now dealing. The
physicians of the Chow dynasty classify diseases under the four seasons
of the year—headaches and neuralgic affections under spring, skin
diseases of all kinds under summer, fever and agues under autumn, and
bronchial and pulmonary complaints under winter. The public at large was
warned against rashly swallowing the prescriptions of any physician
whose family had not been three generations in the medical profession.
When the Chows went into battle they formed a line with the bowman on
the left and the spearman on the right flank. The centre was occupied by
chariots, each drawn by three or four horses harnessed abreast. Swords,
daggers, shields, iron headed clubs, huge iron hooks, drums, cymbals,
gongs, horns, banners and streamers innumerable were also among the
equipment of war. Quarter was rarely if ever given and it was customary
to cut the ears from the bodies of the slain.
It was under the Chows, a thousand years before Christ, that the people
of China began to possess family names. By the time of Confucius the use
of surnames had become definitely established for all classes. The Chows
founded a university, a shadow of which remains to the present day. They
seem to have had theatrical representations of some kind, though it is
difficult to say of what nature these actually were. Music must have
already reached a stage of considerable development, if we are to
believe Confucius himself, who has left it on record that after
listening to a certain melody he was so affected as not to be able to
taste meat for three months.
Slavery was at this date a regular domestic institution and was not
confined as now to the purchase of women alone; and whereas in still
earlier ages it had been usual to bury wooden puppets in the tombs of
princes, we now read of slave boys and slave girls barbarously interred
alive with the body of every ruler of a state, in order, as was
believed, to wait upon the tyrant’s spirit after death. But public
opinion began during the Confucian era to discountenance this savage
rite, and the son of a man who left instructions that he should be
buried in a large coffin between two of his concubines, ventured to
disobey his father’s commands.
We know that the Chows sat on chairs while all other eastern nations
were sitting on the ground, and ate their food and drank their wine from
tables; that they slept on beds and rode on horseback. They measured the
hours with the aid of sun dials; and the invention of the compass is
attributed, though on somewhat insufficient grounds, to one of their
earliest heroes. They played games of calculation of an abstruse
character, and others involving dexterity. They appear to have worn
shoes of leather, and stockings, and hats, and caps, in addition to
robes of silk; and to have possessed such other material luxuries as
fans, mirrors of metal, bath tubs, and flat irons. But it is often
difficult to separate truth from falsehood in the statement of Chinese
writers with regard to their history. They are fond of exaggerating the
civilization of their forefathers, which, as a matter of fact, was
sufficiently advanced to command admiration without the undesirable
coloring of fiction they have thus been tempted to lay on.
[Illustration: IMAGE OF CONFUCIUS.]
Of the religions of the Chinese we will speak in a succeeding chapter,
but it must be said here that during the Chow dynasty was born the most
famous of Chinese teachers, Confucius. He was preceded about the middle
of the dynasty by Lao-tzu, the founder of an abstruse system of ethical
philosophy which was destined to develop into the Taoism of to-day.
Closely following, and partially a contemporary, came Confucius, “a
teacher who has been equalled in his influence upon masses of the human
race by Buddha alone and approached only by Mahomet and Christ.”
Confucius devoted his life chiefly to the moral amelioration of his
fellow men by oral teaching, but he was also an author of many works. A
hundred years later came Mencius, the record of whose teachings also
forms an important part of the course of study of a modern student in
China. His pet theory was that the nature of man is good, and that all
evil tendencies are necessarily acquired from evil communications either
by heredity or association. It was during this same period that the
literature of the Chinese language was founded. Of this subject, and
some of the famous works, more will be said in a succeeding chapter
devoted to literature and education.
In their campaign against the prevailing lawlessness and violence,
neither Confucius nor Mencius was able to make any headway. Their
preachings fell on deaf ears and their peaceful admonitions were passed
unheeded by men who held their fiefs by the strength of their right
arms, and administered the affairs of their principalities surrounded by
the din of war. The feudal system and the dynasty of the Chows were
tottering when Confucius died although it was more than two hundred
years after when Ch’in acquired the supremacy.
[Illustration: MANCHURIAN MINISTERS.]
The nine centuries covered by the history of the Chows were full of
stirring incidents in other parts of the world. The Trojan war had just
been brought to an end and Æneas had taken refuge in Italy from the sack
of Troy. Early in the dynasty Zoroaster was founding in Persia the
religion of the Magi, the worship of fire which survives in the
Parseeism of Bombay. Saul was made king of Israel and Solomon built the
temple of Jerusalem. Later on Lycurgus gave laws to the Spartans and
Romulus laid the first stone of the Eternal City. Then came the
Babylonic captivity, the appearance of Buddha, the conquest of Asia
Minor by Cyrus, the rise of the Roman Republic, the defeats of Darius at
Marathon and of Xerxes at Salamis, the Peloponnesian War, the retreat of
the Ten Thousand, and Roman conquests down to the end of the first Punic
war. From a literary point of view the Chow dynasty was the age of the
Vedas in India; of Homer, Æschylus, Herodotus, Aristophanes, Thucydides,
Aristotle and Demosthenes in Greece; and of the Jewish prophets from
Samuel to Daniel; and of the Talmud as originally undertaken by the
scribes subsequent to the return from the captivity in Babylon.
It has been stated that the imperial rule of the Chows over the vassal
states which made up the China of those early days, was gradually
undermined by the growing power and influence of one of the latter, the
very name of which was transformed into a byword of reproach, so that to
call a person “a man of Ch’in” was equivalent to saying in vulgar
parlance, “He is no friend of mine.” The struggle between the Ch’ins and
the rest of the empire may be likened to the struggle between Athens and
the rest of Greece though the end in each case was not the same. The
state of Ch’in vanquished its combined opponents, and finally
established a dynasty, short-lived indeed, but containing among the few
rulers who sat upon the throne, only about fifty years in all, the name
of one remarkable man, the first emperor of the united China.
[Illustration: GREAT WALL OF CHINA.]
On the ruins of the old feudal system, the landmarks of which his three
or four predecessors had succeeded in sweeping away, Hwang Ti laid the
foundations of a coherent empire which was to date from himself as its
founder. He sent an army of 300,000 men to fight against the Huns. He
dispatched a fleet to search for some mysterious islands off the coast
of China; and this expedition has since been connected with the
colonization of Japan. He built the Great Wall which is nearly fourteen
hundred miles in length, forming the most prominent artificial object on
the surface of the earth. His copper coinage was so uniformly good that
the cowry disappeared altogether from commerce with this reign.
According to some, the modern hair pencil employed by the Chinese as a
pen was invented about this time, to be used for writing on silk; while
the characters themselves underwent certain modifications and
orthographical improvements. The first emperor desired above all things
to impart a fresh stimulus to literary effort; but he adopted singularly
unfortunate means to secure this desirable end. For listening to the
insidious flattery of courtiers, he determined that literature should
begin anew with his reign. He therefore issued orders for the
destruction of all existing books, with the exception of works treating
of medicine, agriculture and divination and the annals of his own house;
and he actually put to death many hundreds of the literati who refused
to comply with these commands. The decree was obeyed as faithfully as
was possible in case of so sweeping an ordinance and for many years a
night of ignorance rested on the country. Numbers of valuable works thus
perished in a general literary conflagration, popularly known as “the
burning of the books;” and it is partly to accident and partly to the
pious efforts of the scholars of the age, that posterity is indebted for
the preservation of the most precious relics of ancient Chinese
literature. The death of Hwang Ti was the signal for an outbreak among
the dispossessed feudal princes, who, however, after some years of
disorder, were again reduced to the rank of citizens by a successful
peasant leader who adopted the title of Kaou Ti, and named his dynasty
that of Han, with himself its first emperor.
From that day to this, with occasional interregnums, the empire has been
ruled on the lines laid down by Hwang Ti. Dynasty has succeeded dynasty
but the political tradition has remained unchanged, and though Mongols
and Manchoos have at different times wrested the throne from its
legitimate heirs, they have been engulfed in a homogeneous mass
inhabiting the empire, and instead of impressing their seal upon the
country, have become but the reflection of the vanquished. The stately
House of Han ruled over China for four hundred years, approximately from
200 B.C. to 200 A.D. During the whole period the empire made vast
strides towards a more settled state of prosperity and civilization,
although there were constant wars with the Tartar tribes to the north
and the various Turkish tribes on the west. The communications with the
Huns were particularly close, and even now traces of Hunnish influence
are discernible in several of the recognized surnames of the Chinese.
This dynasty also witnessed the spectacle, most unusual in the east, of
a woman wielding the imperial sceptre; and hers was not a reign
calculated to inspire the people of China with much faith either in the
virtue or the administrative ability of the sex. In Chinese history
however, her place is that of the only female sovereign who ever
legitimately occupied the throne.
[Illustration: BUDDHIST PRIEST.]
It was under the Han dynasty that the religion of Buddha first became
known to the Chinese people, and Taoism began to develop from quiet
philosophy to foolish superstitions and practices. It was also during
this period that the Jews appear to have founded a colony in Honan, but
we cannot say what kind of a reception was accorded to the new faith. In
the glow of early Buddhism, and in the exciting times of its subsequent
persecution, it is probable that Judaism failed to attract much serious
attention from the Chinese. In 1850 certain Hebrew rolls were recovered
from the few remaining descendants of former Jews; but there was then no
one left who could read a word of them, or who possessed any knowledge
of the creed of their forefathers, beyond a few traditions of the
scantiest possible kind.
But the most remarkable of all events connected with our present period,
was the general revival of learning and authorship. The Confucian texts
were rescued from hiding places in which they had been concealed at the
risk of death; editing committees were appointed, and immense efforts
made to repair the mischief sustained by literature at the hand of the
first emperor. Ink and paper were invented and authorship was thus
enabled to make a fresh start, the very start indeed, that the first
emperor had longed to associate with his own reign, and had attempted to
secure by such impracticable means. During the latter portion of the
second century B. C., flourished the “Father of Chinese History.” His
great work, which has been the model for all subsequent histories, is
divided into one hundred and thirty books, and deals with a period
extending from the reign of the Yellow emperor down to his own times. In
another branch of literature, a foremost place among the lexicographers
of the world may fairly be claimed for Hsu Shen, the author of a famous
dictionary. Many other celebrated writers lived and prospered during the
Han dynasty. One man whose name must be mentioned insured for himself,
by his virtue and integrity, a more imperishable fame than any mere
literary achievement could bestow. Yang Chen was indeed a scholar of no
mean attainments, and away in his occidental home he was known as the
“Confucius of the west.” An officer of government in a high position,
with every means of obtaining wealth at his command, he lived and died
in comparative poverty, his only object of ambition being the reputation
of a spotless official. The Yangs of his day grumbled sorely at
opportunities thus thrown away; but the Yangs of to-day glory in the
fame of their great ancestor and are proud to worship in the ancestral
hall to which his uprightness has bequeathed the name. For once when
pressed to receive a bribe, with the additional inducement that no one
would know of the transaction, he quietly replied—“How so? Heaven would
know; earth would know; you would know and I should know.” And to this
hour the ancestral shrine of the clan of the Yangs bears as it name “The
Hall of the Four Knows.”
It was in all probability under the dynasty of the Hans that the drama
first took its place among the amusements of the people.
It is unnecessary to linger over the four centuries which connect the
Hans with the T'angs. There was not in them that distinctness of
character or coherency of aim which leave a great impress upon the
times. The three kingdoms passed rapidly away, and other small dynasties
succeeded them, but their names and dates are not essential to a right
comprehension of the state of China then or now. A few points may,
however, be briefly mentioned before quitting this period of transition.
Diplomatic relations were opened with Japan; and Christianity was
introduced by the Nestorians under the title of the “luminous teaching.”
Tea was not known in China before this date. It was at the close of this
transitional period that we first detect traces of the art of printing,
still in an embryonic state, and it seems to be quite certain that
before the end of the sixth century the Chinese were in possession of a
method of reproduction from wooden blocks. One of the last emperors of
the period succeeded in adding largely to the empire by annexation
toward the west. Embassies reached his court from various nations,
including Japan and Cochin China, and helped to add to the lustre of his
reign.
The three centuries A.D. 600-900, during which the T'angs sat upon the
throne, form a brilliant epoch in Chinese history, and the southern
people of China are still proud of the designation which has descended
to them as “men of T’ang.” Emperor Hsuan Tsung fought against the
prevailing extravagance in dress; founded a large dramatic college; and
was an enthusiastic patron of literature. Buddhism flourished during
this period in spite of edicts against it. Finally, it gained the favor
of the emperors and for a time overpowered even Confucianism. It was
during the reign of the second emperor of the T'angs and only six years
after the Hegira that the religion of Mahomet first reached the shores
of China. A maternal uncle of the prophet visited the country and
obtained permission to build a mosque at Canton, portions of which may
perhaps still be found in the thrice restored structure which now stands
upon its site. The use of paper money was first introduced by the
government toward the closing years of the dynasty; and it is near to
this time that we can trace back the existence of the modern court
circular and daily record of edicts, memorials, etc., commonly known as
the Peking Gazette.
Another unimportant transition period, sixty years in duration, forms
the connecting link between the houses of T'ang and Sung. It is known in
Chinese history as the period of the five dynasties, after the five
short-lived ones crowded into this space of time. It is remarkable
chiefly for the more extended practice of printing from wooden blocks,
the standard classical works being now for the first time printed in
this way. The discreditable custom of cramping women’s feet into the
so-called “golden lilies” belongs probably to this date, though referred
by some to a period several hundred years later.
It has been said before that the age of the T'angs was the age of
Mahomet and his new religion, the propagation of which was destined to
meet in the west with a fatal check from the arms of Charles Martel at
the battle of Tours. It was the age of Rome independent under her early
popes; of Charlemagne as emperor of the west; of Egbert as first king of
England; and of Alfred the Great.
The Sung dynasty extended from about A.D. 960 to 1280. The first portion
of this dynasty may be considered as on the whole, one of the most
prosperous and peaceable periods of the history of China. The nation had
already in a great measure settled down to that state of material
civilization and mental culture in which it may be said to have been
discovered by Europeans a few centuries later. To the appliances of
Chinese ordinary life it is probable that but few additions have been
made even since a much earlier date. The national costume has indeed
undergone subsequent variations, and at least one striking change has
been introduced in later years, that is, the tail, which will be
mentioned later. But the plows and hoes, the water wheels and well
sweeps, the tools of artisans, mud huts, junks, carts, chairs, tables,
chopsticks, etc., which we still see in China, are doubtless
approximately those of more than two thousand years ago. Mencius
observed that the written language was the same, and axle-trees of the
same length all over the empire; and to this day an unaltering
uniformity is one of the chief characteristics of the Chinese people in
every department of life.
The house of Sung was not however without the usual troubles for any
length of time. Periodical revolts are the special feature of Chinese
history, and the Sungs were hardly exempt from them in a greater degree
than other dynasties. The Tartars too, were forever encroaching upon
Chinese territory and finally overran and occupied a large part of
northern China. This resulted in an amicable arrangement to divide the
empire, the Tartars retaining their conquests in the north. Less than a
hundred years later came the invasion of the Mongols under Genghis Khan,
with the long struggle which eventuated in a complete overthrow of both
the Tartars and the Sungs and the final establishment of the Mongol
dynasty under Kublai Khan, whose success was in a great measure due to
the military capacity of his famous lieutenant Bayan. From this struggle
one name in particular has survived to form a landmark of which the
Chinese are justly proud. It is that of the patriot statesman Wen
T'ien-hsiang, whose fidelity to the Sungs no defeats could shake, no
promises undermine; and who perished miserably in the hands of the enemy
rather than abjure the loyalty which had been the pride and almost the
object of his existence.
Another name inseparably connected with the history of the Sungs is that
of Wang An-shih who has been styled “The Innovator” from the gigantic
administrative changes or innovations he labored ineffectually to
introduce. The chief of these were a universal system of militia under
which the whole body of citizens were liable to military drill and to be
called out for service in time of need; and a system of state loans to
agriculturists in order to supply capital for more extensive and more
remunerative farming operations. His schemes were ultimately set aside
through the opposition of a statesman whose name is connected even more
closely with literature than with politics. Ssu-ma Kuang spent nineteen
years of his life in the compilation of “The Mirror of History,” a
history of China in two hundred and ninety-four books, from the earliest
times of the Chow dynasty down to the accession of the house of Sung.
[Illustration: CHINESE ARCHERS.]
A century later this lengthy production was recast in a greatly
condensed form under the superintendence of Chu Hsi, the latter work at
once taking rank as the standard history of China to that date. Chu Hsi
himself played in other ways by far the most important part among all
the literary giants of the Sungs. Besides holding, during a large
portion of his life, high official position, with an almost unqualified
success, his writings are more extensive and more varied in character
than those of any other Chinese author; and the complete collection of
his great philosophical works, published in 1713, fills no fewer than
sixty-six books. He introduced interpretations of the Confucian
classics, either wholly or partially at variance with those which had
been put forth by the scholars of the Han dynasty and received as
infallible ever since, thus modifying to a certain extent the prevailing
standard of political and social morality. His principle was simply one
of consistency. He refused to interpret certain words in a given passage
in one sense and the same words occurring elsewhere in another sense.
And this principle recommended itself at once to the highly logical mind
of the Chinese. Chu Hsi’s commentaries were received to the exclusion of
all others and still form the only authorized interpretation of the
classical books, upon a knowledge of which all success at the great
competitive examination for literary degrees may be said to entirely
depend.
[Illustration: CHINESE WRITER.]
It would be a lengthy task to merely enumerate the names in the great
phalanx of writers who flourished under the Sungs and who formed an
Augustan Age of Chinese literature. Exception must however be made in
favor of Ou-Yang Hsiu, who besides being an eminent statesman, was a
voluminous historian of the immediately preceding dynasties, an essayist
of rare ability, and a poet; and of Su Tung-p'o whose name next to that
of Chu Hsi fills the largest place in Chinese memorials of this period.
A vigorous opponent of “The Innovator,” he suffered banishment for his
opposition; and again, after his rival’s fall, he was similarly punished
for further crossing the imperial will. His exile was shared by the
beautiful and accomplished girl “Morning Clouds,” to whose inspiration
we owe many of the elaborate poems and other productions in the
composition of which the banished poet beguiled his time; and whose
untimely death of consumption, on the banks of their favorite lake,
hastened the poet’s end, which occurred shortly after his recall from
banishment.
Buddhism and Taoism had by this time made advances toward tacit terms of
mutual toleration. They wisely agreed to share rather than to quarrel
over the carcass which lay at their feet; and from that date they have
flourished together without prejudice.
The system of competitive examinations and literary degrees had been
still more fully elaborated, and the famous child’s primer, the “Three
Character Classic,” which is even now the first stepping stone to
knowledge, had been placed in the hands of school boys. The surnames of
the people were collected to the number of four hundred and thirty-eight
in all; and although this was admittedly not complete, the great
majority of those names which were omitted, once perhaps in common use,
have altogether disappeared. It is comparatively rare nowadays to meet
with a person whose family name is not to be found within the limits of
this small collection. Administration of justice is said to have
flourished under the incorrupt officials of this dynasty. The functions
of magistrates were more fully defined; while the study of medical
jurisprudence was stimulated by the publication of a volume which,
although combining the maximum of superstition with the minimum of
scientific research, is still the officially recognized text book on all
subjects connected with murder, suicide and accidental death. Medicine
and the art of healing came in for a considerable share of attention at
the hands of the Sungs and many voluminous works on therapeutics have
come down to us from this period. Inoculation for small-pox has been
known to the Chinese at least since the early years of this dynasty if
not earlier.
The irruption of the Mongols under Genghis Khan, and the comparatively
short dynasty which was later on actually established under Kublai Khan,
may be regarded as the period of transition from the epoch of the Sungs
to the epoch of the Mings. For the first eighty years after the nominal
accession of Genghis Khan the empire was more or less in a state of
siege and martial law from one end to the other; and then in less than
one hundred years afterwards the Mongol dynasty had passed away. The
story of Ser Marco Polo and his wonderful travels, familiar to most
readers, gives us a valuable insight into this period of brilliant
courts, thronged marts, fine cities, and great national wealth.
At this date the literary glory of the Sungs had hardly begun to grow
dim. Ma Tuan-lin carried on his voluminous work through all the
troublous times, and at his death bequeathed to the world “The
Antiquarian Researches,” in three hundred and forty-eight books, which
have made his name famous to every student of Chinese literature. Plane
and spherical trigonometry were both known to the Chinese by this time,
and mathematics generally began to receive a larger share of the
attention of scholars. It was also under the Mongol dynasty that the
novel first made its appearance, a fact pointing to a definite social
advancement, if only in the direction of luxurious reading. Among other
points may be mentioned a great influx of Mohammedans, and consequent
spread of their religion about this time.
The Grand Canal was completed by Kublai Khan, and thus Cambaluc, the
Peking of those days, was united by inland water communication with the
extreme south of China. The work seems to have been begun by the Emperor
Yang Ti seven centuries previously, but the greater part of the
undertaking was done in the reign of Kublai Khan. Hardly so successful
was the same emperor’s huge naval expedition against Japan, which in
point of number of ships and men, the insular character of the enemy’s
country, the chastisement intended, and the total loss of the fleet in a
storm, aided by the stubborn resistance of the Japanese themselves,
suggests a very obvious comparison with the object and fate of the
Spanish Armada.
The age of the Sungs carries us from a hundred years previous to the
Norman Conquest down to about the death of Edward III. It was the epoch
of Venetian commerce and maritime supremacy; and of the first great
lights in Italian literature, Dante, Petrarch and Boccaccio. English,
French, German and Spanish literature had yet to develop, only one or
two of the earlier writers, such as Chaucer, having yet appeared on the
scene.
The founder of the Ming dynasty rose from starvation and obscurity to
occupy the throne of the Chinese empire. In his youth he sought refuge
from the pangs of hunger in a Buddhist monastery; later on he became a
soldier of fortune, and joined the ranks of the insurgents who were
endeavoring to shake off the alien yoke of the Mongols. His own great
abilities carried him on. He speedily obtained the leadership of a large
army, with which he totally destroyed the power of the Mongols, and
finally established a new Chinese dynasty over the thirteen provinces
into which the empire was divided. He fixed his capitol at Nanking,
where it remained until the accession of the third emperor, the
conqueror of Cochin China and Tonquin, who transferred the seat of
government back to Peking, the capitol of the Mongols, from which it has
never since been removed.
[Illustration: CHINESE CANNONIERS.]
For nearly three hundred years, from 1370 to 1650, the Mings swayed the
destinies of China. Their rule was not one of uninterrupted peace,
either within or without the empire; but it was on the whole a wise and
popular rule, and the period which it covers is otherwise notable for
immense literary activity and for considerable refinement in manners and
material civilization.
From without, the Mings were constantly harrassed by the encroachments
of the Tartars; while from within the ceaseless intriguing of the
eunuchs was a fertile cause of trouble.
[Illustration: ANCIENT CHINESE ARCH.]
Chief among the literary achievements of this period, is the gigantic
encyclopedia in over twenty-two thousand books, only one copy of which,
and that imperfect, has survived out of the four that were originally
made. Allowing fifty octavo pages to a book, the result would be a total
of at least one million one hundred thousand pages, the index alone
occupying no fewer than three thousand pages. This wonderful work is now
probably rotting, if not already rotted beyond hope of preservation, in
some damp corner of the imperial palace at Peking. Another important and
more accessible production was the so-called “Chinese Herbal.” This was
a compilation from the writings of no fewer than eight hundred preceding
writers on botany, mineralogy, entomology, etc., the whole forming a
voluminous but unscientific book of reference on the natural history of
China. Shortly after the accession of the third emperor, Yung Lo, the
imperial library was estimated to contain written and printed works
amounting to a total of about one million in all. A book is a variable
quantity in Chinese literature, both as regards number and size of
pages; the number of books to a work also vary from one to several
hundred. But reckoning fifty pages to a book and twenty or twenty-five
books to a work, it will be seen that the collection was not an unworthy
private library for any emperor in the early years of the fifteenth
century.
The overthrow of the Mings was brought about by a combination of events
of the utmost importance to those who would understand the present
position of the Tartars as rulers of China. A sudden rebellion had
resulted in the capture of Peking by the insurgents, and in the suicide
of the emperor who was fated to be the last of his line. The imperial
commander-in-chief, Wu San-kuei, at that time away on the frontiers of
Manchooria engaged in resisting the incursions of the Manchoo-Tartars,
now for a long time in a state of ferment, immediately hurried back to
the capitol but was totally defeated by the insurgent leader and once
more made his way, this time as a fugitive and a suppliant, toward the
Tartar camp. Here he obtained promises of assistance chiefly on
condition that he would shave his head and grow a tail in accordance
with Manchoo custom, and again set off with his new auxiliaries toward
Peking, being reinforced on the way by a body of Mongol volunteers. As
things turned out, the commander arrived in Peking in advance of these
allies, and actually succeeded with the remnant of his own scattered
forces in routing the troops of the rebel leader before the Tartars and
the Mongols came up. He then started in pursuit of the flying foe.
Meanwhile the Tartar contingent arrived and on entering the capitol the
young Manchoo prince in command was invited by the people of Peking to
ascend the vacant throne. So that by the time Wu San-kuei reappeared, he
found a new dynasty already established and his late Manchoo ally at the
head of affairs. His first intention had doubtless been to continue the
Ming line of emperors; but he seems to have readily fallen in with the
arrangement already made and to have tendered his formal allegiance on
the four following conditions:
That no Chinese woman should be taken into the imperial seraglio; that
the first place at the great triennial examination for the highest
literary degrees should never be given to a Tartar; that the people
should adopt the national costume of the Tartars in their everyday life;
but that they should be allowed to bury their corpses in the dress of
the late dynasty; that this condition of costume should not apply to the
women of China who were not to be compelled either to wear the hair in a
tail before marriage as the Tartar girls do, or to abandon the custom of
compressing their feet.
The great Ming dynasty was now at an end, though not destined wholly to
pass away. A large part of it may be said to remain in the literary
monuments. The dress of the period survives upon the modern Chinese
stage; and when occasionally the alien yoke has galled, seditious
whispers of “restoration” are not altogether unheard. Secret societies
have always been dreaded and prohibited by the government; and of these
none more so than the famous “Triad Society,” in which heaven, earth,
and man are supposed to be associated in close alliance, and whose
watchword is believed to embody some secret allusion to the downfall of
the present dynasty.
In the latter part of the sixteenth century, the civilization of western
Europe began to make itself felt in China by the advent of the
Portuguese, and this matter will be returned to in the following
chapter.
In other parts of the world, eventful times have set in. In England we
are brought from the accession of Richard II. down to the struggle
between the king and the commons and the ultimate establishment of the
commonwealth. We have Henry IV. in France and Ferdinand and Isabella in
Spain. In England, Shakspeare and Bacon; in France, Rabelais and
Descartes; in Germany, Luther and Copernicus; in Spain, Cervantes; and
in Italy, Galileo, Machiavelli and Tasso; these names to which should be
added those of the great explorers, Columbus and Vasco de Gama, serve to
remind one of what was meanwhile passing in the west.
[Illustration: A CHINESE LODGING HOUSE.]
FROM FIRST CONTACT WITH EUROPEAN CIVILIZATION
TO THE OUTBREAK OF THE WAR.
--------------
How the Western Nations Formed the Acquaintance of China—First Mention
of the Orient by Grecian and Roman Historians—Introduction of
Judaism—Nestorian Missionaries Bring Christianity—Marco Polo’s Wonderful
Journey—Roman Missionaries in the Field—Dissentions among Christians
Discredit their Work—Work of the Jesuits—The Dynasty of the
Chings—Splendid Literary Labors of Two Emperors—England’s First Embassy
to China—The Opium War—Opening the Ports of China—Treaties with Western
Nations—The Tai-Ping Rebellion—The Later Years of Chinese History.
The works of several Greek and Roman historians, principally those of
Ptolemy and Arian, who lived in the second century, contain references
of a vague character to a country now generally believed to be China.
Ptolemy states that his information came from the agents of Macedonian
traders, who gave him an account of a journey of seven months from the
principal city of eastern Turkestan, in a direction east inclining a
little south. It is probable that these agents belonged to some of the
Tartar tribes of Central Asia. They represented the name of this most
eastern nation to be Serica, and that on the borders of this kingdom
they met and traded with its inhabitants, the Seres. Herodotus speaks of
the Isadores as a people in the extreme north-east of Asia. Ptolemy also
mentions these tribes as a part of Serica and under its sway. Ammianus
Marcellinus, a Roman historian of the fourth century, speaks of the land
of the Seres as surrounded by a high and continuous wall. This was about
six hundred years after the great wall of northern China was built.
Virgil, Pliny, Ricitus and Juvenal refer to the Seres in connection with
the Seric garments which seem to have been made of fine silk or gauze.
This article of dress was much sought after in Rome by the wealthy and
luxurious, and as late as the second century, is said to have been worth
its weight in gold. From the length and description of the route of the
traders, the description of the mountains and rivers which they passed,
the character of the people with whom they traded and the articles of
traffic, the evidence seems almost conclusive that the nation which the
Greeks and Romans designated by the name of Serica is that now known to
us as China. The particular countries visited by the caravans which
brought the silk to Europe, were probably the dependencies or
territories of China on the west, or possibly cities within the extreme
north-west limit of China proper.
The introduction of Judaism into China is evidenced by a Jewish
synagogue which existed until quite recently in Kai-fung-foo, a city in
the province of Honan. Connected with this synagogue were some Hebrew
manuscripts, and a few worshippers who retained some of the forms of
their religion, but very little knowledge of its real character and
spirit. There is a great deal of uncertainty as to when the Jews came to
China, though they have, no doubt, resided there for many centuries.
Nestorian missionaries entered China some time before the seventh
century. The principal record which they have left of the success of
their missions is the celebrated Nestorian monument in Fen-gan-foo. This
monument contains a short history of the sect from the year 630 to 781,
and also an abstract of the Christian religion. The missionaries of this
sect have left but few records of their labors or of their observations
as travelers, but the churches planted by them seem to have existed
until a comparatively recent period. The Romish missionaries who entered
China in the beginning of the fourteenth century, found them possessed
of considerable influence, not only among the people, but also at court,
and met with no little opposition from them in their first attempts to
introduce the doctrines of their church. It seems to be true that during
the period of nearly eight hundred years in which Nestorian Christianity
maintained its foothold in China, large numbers of converts were made.
But in process of time the Nestorian churches departed widely from their
first teachings. After the fall of the Mongolian empire they were cut
off from connection with the west, and not having sufficient vitality to
resist the adverse influences of heathenism the people by degrees
relapsed into idolatry or took up the new faiths that were introduced.
The first western writer, whose works are extant, who has given anything
like full and explicit explanation respecting China is Ser Marco Polo.
He went to China in the year 1274, in company with his father and uncle,
who were Venetian noblemen. At this time, the independent nomad tribes
of central Asia being united in one government, it was practicable to
reach eastern Asia by passing through the Mongolian empire. Marco Polo
spent twenty-four years in China, and seems to have been treated kindly
and hospitably. After his return to Europe he was taken prisoner in a
war with the Genoese, and during his confinement wrote an account of his
travels. The description he gives of the vast territories of China, its
teeming population, and flourishing cities, the refinement and
civilization of its people, and their curious customs, seemed to his
countrymen more like a fiction of fairyland than sober and authentic
narrative. It is said that he was urged when on his death bed to retract
these statements and make confession of falsehood, which he refused to
do. He was undoubtedly one of the most remarkable travelers of any age.
During the period of the Mongolian empire which comprehended under its
sway the greater part of Asia from China on the east to the
Mediterranean on the west, an intense desire was kindled in the Roman
church to convert this powerful nation to its faith. Among the first and
the most noted of the missionaries sent to China at this time, was John
of Mount Corvin, who reached Peking in 1293. He was afterward made an
archbishop. From time to time bishops and priests were sent out to
re-enforce this mission, but they met with indifferent success; and when
the Mongols were driven from China the enterprise was abandoned as a
complete failure. After the fall of the Mongolian empire, direct
overland communication with eastern Asia was interrupted, and for about
two hundred years China was again almost completely isolated from the
western world.
The use of the magnetic needle, and improvements in navigation, made a
new era in intercourse with the Orient. It is supposed that the first
voyage from Europe to China was made by a Portuguese vessel in 1516.
From this period commercial intercourse with China became more frequent,
and various embassies were sent to the Chinese court by different
nations of Europe. Unfortunately the growing familiarity of the Chinese
with western nations did not increase their respect and confidence in
them. This was due partly to the servility of most of the embassies to
Peking, but principally, no doubt, to the want of honesty and the
general lawlessness of most of the traders from the west. The
consequence was that the Chinese became desirous of restricting foreign
intercourse, and exercising as strict surveillance over their
troublesome visitors as possible.
Immediately after connection was established between Europe and the far
east by sea, another and a more successful effort was made by the Roman
church to propagate its faith in the Chinese empire, this being
coincident with the growth of the exchange of business. Francis Xavier,
in his attempt to gain an entrance into the country, died on one of the
islands of the coast in 1552. Toward the close of the Sixteenth century
the Portuguese appeared upon the scene, and from their “concession” at
Macao, at one time the residence of Camoens, opened commercial relations
between China and the west. They brought the Chinese, among other
things, opium, which had previously been imported overland from India.
They possibly taught them how to make gunpowder, to the invention of
which the Chinese do not seem, upon striking a balance of evidence, to
possess an independent claim. About the same time Rome contributed the
first installment of those wonderful Jesuit fathers whose names yet echo
in the empire, the memory of their scientific labors and the benefits
they thus conferred upon China having long survived the wreck and
discredit of the faith to which they devoted their lives. At this
distance of time it does not appear to be a wild statement, to assert
that had the Jesuits, the Franciscans, and the Dominicans been able to
resist quarreling among themselves, and had they rather united to
persuade papal infallibility to permit the incorporation of
ancestor-worship with the rites and ceremonies of the Romish church,
China would at this moment be a Catholic country and Buddhism, Taoism,
and Confucianism would long since have receded into the past.
[Illustration: CHINESE PRIEST.]
Of all these Jesuit missionaries, the name of Matteo Ricci stands by
common consent upon the long list. He established himself in Canton in
the garb of a Buddhist priest in 1581. He was a man of varied
intellectual gifts and extensive learning, united with indomitable
energy, zeal and perseverance, and great prudence. In 1601 he reached
Peking in the dress of a literary gentleman. He spent many years in
China. He associated with the highest personages in the land. He
acquired an unrivalled knowledge of the book language, and left behind
him several valuable treatises of a metaphysical and theological
character, written in such a polished style as to command the
recognition and even the admiration of the Chinese. One of his most
intimate friends and fellow workers was the well-known scholar and
statesman, Hsu Kuang-chi, the author of a voluminous compendium of
agriculture, and joint author of the large work which introduced
European astronomy to the Chinese. He was appointed by the emperor to
co-operate with other Jesuit missionaries in reforming the national
calendar, which had gradually reached a stage of hopeless inaccuracy. He
wrote independently several small scientific works; also a severe
criticism of the Buddhist religion, and finally, not least in
importance, a defense of the Jesuits, addressed to the throne, when
their influence at court had begun to excite envy and distrust. Hsu
Kuang-chi forms the sole exception in the history of China of a scholar
and a man of means and position on the side of Christianity.
[Illustration: MAN OF SWATOW.]
The age of the Chings is the age in which we live, but it is not so
familiar to some persons as it ought to be that a Tartar and not a
Chinese sovereign is now seated on the throne in China. For some time
after the accession of the first Manchoo emperor, there was considerable
friction between the two races. The subjugation of the empire by the
Manchoos was followed by a military occupation of the country, which
survived the original necessity, and has remained part of the system of
government until the present day. The dynasty thus founded, partly by
accident as it seems, as was related in the last chapter, has remained
in power through the entire period of intercourse with western nations.
The title adopted by the first emperor of the line was Shun-che. It was
during the reign of this sovereign that Adam Schaal, a German Jesuit,
took up his residence at Peking and that the first Russian embassy,
1656, visited the capital. But in those days the Chinese had not learned
to tolerate the idea that a foreigner should enter the presence of the
Son of Heaven unless he were willing to perform the prostration known as
the Ko-t’ow, and the Russians not being inclined to humor any such
presumptuous folly left the capital without opening negotiations.
Of the nine emperors of this line, from the first to the present, the
second in every way fills the largest space in Chinese history. Kang Hi,
the son of Shun-che, reigned for sixty-one years. This sovereign is
renowned in modern Chinese history as a model ruler, a skillful general
and an able author. During his reign Thibet was added to the empire, and
the Eleuths were successfully subdued. But it is as a just and
considerate ruler that he is best remembered among the people. He
treated the early Catholic priests with kindness and distinction, and
availed himself in many ways of their scientific knowledge. He
promulgated sixteen moral maxims collectively known as the “Sacred
Edict,” forming a complete code of rules for the guidance of every day
life, and presented in such terse, yet intelligible terms, that they at
once took firm hold of the public mind and have retained their position
ever since. Kang Hi was the most successful patron of literature the
world has ever seen. He caused to be published under his own personal
supervision the four following compilations, known as the four great
works of the present dynasty: A huge thesaurus of extracts in one
hundred and ten thick volumes; an encyclopedia in four hundred and fifty
books, usually bound in one hundred and sixty volumes; an enlarged and
improved edition of a herbarium in one hundred books; and a complete
collection of the important philosophical writings of Chu Hsi in
sixty-six books. In addition to these the emperor designed and gave his
name to the great modern lexicon of the Chinese language, which contains
over forty thousand characters under separate entries, accompanied in
each case by appropriate citations from the works of authors of every
age and every style. The monumental encyclopedia contains articles on
every known subject, and extracts from all works of authority dating
from the twelfth century B.C. to that time. As only one hundred copies
of the first imperial edition were printed, all of which were presented
to princes of the blood and high officials, it is rapidly becoming
extremely rare, and it is not unlikely that before long the copy in the
possession of the British museum will be the only complete copy
existing. A cold caught on a hunting excursion in Mongolia brought his
memorable reign of sixty-one years to a close, and he was succeeded on
the throne by his son Yung Ching.
The labors of the missionaries during the years of this last reign have
been effective in establishing many churches and bishoprics, and in
making many thousands of converts. But the suspicions in the minds of
the Chinese rulers that the Christians were leagued with rebels, as well
as the controversies between the different sects, antagonized the
authorities. Under the third Manchoo emperor, Yung Ching, began that
violent persecution of the Catholics which continued almost to the
present day, and in the year 1723 an edict was promulgated prohibiting
the further propagation of this religion in the empire. From this time
the Roman Catholics were subjected to this persecution except for a few
alternate periods of comparative toleration. They have retained their
position in the face of great difficulties and trials, and since the
late treaties with China the number of their converts has rapidly
increased.
After a reign of twelve years, Yung Ching was gathered to his fathers,
having bequeathed the throne to his son Kien Lung. This fourth emperor
of the dynasty enjoyed a long and glorious reign. He possessed many of
the great qualities of his grandfather, but he lacked his wisdom and
moderation. His generals led a large army into Nepaul and conquered the
Goorkhas, reaching a point only some sixty miles distant from British
territory. He carried his armies north, south, and west, and converted
Kuldja into a Chinese province. But in Burmah, Cochin China, and Formosa
his troops suffered discomfiture. During his reign, which extended over
sixty years, a full Chinese cycle, the relations of his government with
the East India Company were extremely unsatisfactory. The English
merchants were compelled to submit to many indignities and wrongs; and
for the purpose of establishing a better international understanding
Lord Macartney was sent by George III. on a special mission to the court
of Peking. The ambassador was received graciously by the emperor, who
accepted the presents sent him by the English king, but owing to his
ignorance of his own relative position, and of even the rudiments of
international law, he declined to give those assurances of a more
equitable policy which were demanded of him.
[Illustration: CHINESE PAPER-MAKING.]
Like his illustrious ancestor, Kien Lung was a generous patron of
literature, though only two instead of five great literary monuments
remain to mark his sixty years of power. These are a magnificent
bibliographical work in two hundred parts, consisting of a catalogue of
the books in the imperial library, with valuable historical and critical
notices attached to the entries of each; and a huge topography of the
whole empire in five hundred books, beyond doubt one of the most
comprehensive and exhaustive works of the kind ever published. Kang Hi
had been a voluminous poet; but the productions of Kien Lung far
outnumber those of any previous or subsequent bard. For more than fifty
years this emperor was an industrious poet, finding time in the
intervals of state duties to put together no fewer than thirty-three
thousand nine hundred and fifty separate pieces. In the estimation
however of this apparently impossible contribution to poetic literature,
it must always be borne in mind that the stanza of four lines is a
favorite length for a poem and that the couplet is not uncommon. Even
thus a large balance stands to the credit of a Chinese emperor, whose
time is rarely his own, and whose day is divided with wearisome
regularity, beginning with councils and audiences long before daylight
has appeared. We gain a glimpse into Kien Lung’s court from the account
of Lord Macartney’s embassy in 1795, which was so favorably received by
the venerable monarch a short time previous to his abdication, and three
years before his death, and forms such a contrast with that of Lord
Amherst to his successor in 1816. In 1795, at the age of eighty-five
years, Kien Lung abdicated in favor of his fifteenth son who ascended
the throne with the title of Kea King.
During the reign of Kea King, a second English embassy was sent to
Peking, in 1816, to represent to the emperor the unsatisfactory position
of the English merchants in China. The envoy, Lord Amherst, was met at
the mouth of the Peiho and conducted to Yuen-ming-yuen or summer palace,
where the emperor was residing. On his arrival he was officially warned
that only on condition of his performing the Ko-t’ow would he be
permitted to behold “the dragon countenance.” This of course was
impossible, and he consequently left the palace without having slept a
night under its roof.
[Illustration: CHINESE PEASANT, PEIHO DISTRICT.]
Meanwhile the internal affairs of the country were even more disturbed
than the foreign relations. A succession of rebellions broke out in the
western and northern provinces and the sea-boards were ravaged by
pirates. While these disturbing causes were in full play the emperor
died, in 1820, and the throne devolved upon Tao Kuang, his second son.
It was during the reign of Kea King that Protestant missionaries
initiated a systematic attempt to convert the Chinese to Christianity;
but the religious toleration of these people, which on the whole has
been a marked feature in their civilization of all ages, had been sorely
tried by the Catholics and but little progress was made. In another
direction some of the early Protestant missionaries did great service to
the world at large. They spent much of their time in grappling with the
difficulties of the written language; and the publication of Dr.
Morrison’s famous dictionary and the achievements of Dr. Legge were the
culmination of these labors.
Under Tao Kuang both home and foreign affairs went from bad to worse. A
secret league known as the Triad Society, which was first formed during
the reign of Kang Hi, now assumed a formidable bearing, and in many
parts of the country, notably in Honan, Kwang-hsi, and Formosa,
insurrections broke out at its instigation. At the same time the
mandarins continued to persecute the English merchants, and on the
expiration of the East India Company’s monopoly in 1834 the English
government sent Lord Napier to Canton to superintend the foreign trade
at that port. Thwarted at every turn by the presumptuous obstinacy of
the mandarins, Lord Napier’s health gave way under the constant
vexations connected with his post, and he died at Macao after but a few
months’ residence in China.
The opium trade was now the question of the hour, and at the urgent
demand of Commissioner Lin, Captain Elliot, the superintendent of trade,
agreed that all opium in the hands of English merchants should be given
up to the authorities. On the 3rd of April, 1839, twenty thousand two
hundred and eighty-three chests of opium were, in accordance with this
agreement, handed over to the mandarins, who burnt them to ashes. This
demand of Lin’s, though agreed to by the superintendent of trade, was
considered so unreasonable by the English government that in the
following year war was declared against China. The island of Chusan and
the Bogue forts on the Canton river soon fell into the English hands,
and Commissioner Lin’s successor sought to purchase peace by the cession
of Hong Kong and the payment of an indemnity of $6,000,000. This
convention was, however, repudiated by the Peking government, and it was
not until Canton, Amoy, Ningpo, Shanghai, Chapoo and Chin-keang Foo had
been taken by the British troops, that the emperor at last consented to
come to terms, now of course far more onerous. By a treaty made by Sir
Henry Pottinger in 1842 the cession of Hong Kong was supplemented by the
opening of the four ports of Amoy, Foochow Foo, Ningpo, and Shanghai to
foreign trade, and the indemnity of $6,000,000 was increased to
$21,000,000.
Without noticing the other points at issue and the merits of the dispute
concerning them, it is considered by the world at large that one of the
blackest pages in the records of the history of civilization is that
which tells of the forcing of the opium traffic upon the Chinese by
Great Britain. The Chinese people were making most strenuous efforts to
abolish the traffic in opium and the habit of its use, which had been
introduced from India, and which was rapidly becoming the curse of the
nation. But for commercial motives, in this Victorian age of
civilization, England sent to force compliance with the demand of her
merchants in China that the sale of the drug be legalized. The rapid
spread of the use of opium among the hundreds of millions of Chinese,
dating from this time, may be charged against England, in the long
account which records the oppression and the shame of her dealings with
whatever eastern nation she has played the game of war and colonization
and annexation.
[Illustration: BATTLE OF CRICKETS.]
Death put an end to Tao Kuang’s reign in 1850, and his fourth son, Hien
Feng, assumed rule over the distracted empire which was bequeathed him
by his father. There is a popular belief among the Chinese that two
hundred years is the natural life of a dynasty. This is one of those
traditions which are apt to bring about their own fulfilment, and in the
beginning of the reign of Hien Feng the air was rife with rumors that an
effort was to be made to restore the Ming dynasty to the throne. On such
occasions there are always real or pretended scions of the required
family forthcoming. And when the flames of rebellion broke out in
Kwang-hsi a claimant suddenly appeared under the title of Teen-tih,
“heavenly virtue,” to head the movement. But he had not the capacity
required to play the necessary part, and the affair languished and would
have died out altogether had not a leader named Hung Sew-tseuen arose,
who combined all the qualities required in a leader of men, energy,
enthusiasm, and religious bigotry.
[Illustration: CHINESE MANDARIN.]
As soon as he was sufficiently powerful he advanced northward into Honan
and Hoopih, and captured Woo-chang Foo, the capital of the last named
province, and a city of great commercial and strategical importance,
situated as it is at the junction of the Han river with the Chiang.
Having made this place secure he advanced down the river and made
himself master of Gan-ting and the old capital of the empire, Nanking.
Here in 1852 he established his throne, and proclaimed the commencement
of Taiping dynasty. For himself he adopted the title of Teen-wang, or
“heavenly king.” For a time all went well with the new dynasty. The
Tai-ping standard was carried northward to the walls of Tien-tsin and
floated over the towns of Chin-keang Foo and Soochow Foo.
Meanwhile the imperial authorities had by their stupidity raised another
enemy against themselves. The outrage on the English flag perpetrated on
board the Chinese lorcha “Arrow,” at Canton in 1857, having been left
unredressed by the mandarins, led to the proclamation of war by England.
Canton fell to the arms of General Straubenzee, and Sir Michael Seymour
in December of the same year, and in the following spring the Taku forts
at the mouth of the Peiho having been taken, Lord Elgin, who had in the
meantime arrived as plenipotentiary minister, advanced up the river to
Tien-tsin on his way to the capital. At that city, however, he was met
by imperial commissioners, and yielding to their entreaties he concluded
a treaty with them which it was arranged should be ratified at Peking in
the following year.
But the evil genius of the Chinese still pursuing them, they
treacherously fired on the fleet accompanying Sir Frederic Bruce, Lord
Elgin’s brother, proceeding in 1860 to Peking, in fulfillment of this
agreement. This outrage rendered another military expedition necessary,
and in conjunction with the French government, the English cabinet sent
out a force under the command of Sir Hope Grant, with orders to march to
Peking. In the summer of 1861 the allied forces landed at Peh-tang, a
village twelve miles north of the Taku forts, and taking these
intrenchments in the rear captured them with but a trifling loss. This
success was so utterly unexpected by the Chinese, that leaving Tien-tsin
unprotected they retreated rapidly to the neighborhood of the capital.
The allies pushed on after them, and in reply to an invitation sent from
the imperial commissioners at Tung-chow, a town twelve miles from
Peking, Sir Harry Parkes and Mr. Loch, accompanied by an escort and some
few friends, went in advance of the army to make a preliminary
convention. While so engaged they were treacherously taken prisoners and
carried to Peking.
This act precipitated an engagement in which the Chinese were completely
routed, and the allies marched on to Peking. After the usual display of
obstinacy the Chinese yielded to the demand for the surrender of the
An-ting gate of the city. From this vantage point Lord Elgin opened
negotiations, and having secured the release of Sir Harry Parkes and the
other prisoners who had survived the tortures to which they had been
subjected, and having burnt the summer palace of the emperor as a
punishment for their treacherous capture and for the cruelties
perpetrated on them, he concluded a treaty with Prince Kung, the
representative of the emperor. By this instrument the Chinese agreed to
pay a war indemnity of $8,000,000 and to open six other ports in China,
one in Formosa, and one in the island of Hainan to foreign trade, and to
permit the representatives of the foreign governments to reside at
Peking.
[Illustration: GATE AT PEKING.]
Having thus relieved themselves from the presence of a foreign foe, the
authorities were able to devote their attention to the suppression of
the Tai-ping rebellion. Fortunately for themselves, the apparent
friendliness with which they greeted the arrival of the British legation
at Peking enlisted for them the sympathies of Sir Frederic Bruce, the
British minister, and inclined him to listen to their request for the
services of an English officer in their campaign against the rebels. At
the request of Bruce, General Staveley selected Major Gordon, since
generally known as Chinese Gordon, who was killed a few years ago at
Khartoom, for this duty. A better man or one more peculiarly fit for the
work could have been found. A numerous force known as “the ever
victorious army,” partly officered by foreigners, had for some time been
commanded by an American named Ward and after his death by Burgevine,
another American. Over this force Gordon was placed, and at the head of
it he marched in conjunction with the Chinese generals against the
Tai-pings. With masterly strategy he struck a succession of rapid and
telling blows against the fortunes of the rebels. City after city fell
into his hands, and at length the leaders at Soochow opened the gates of
the city to him on condition that he would spare their lives. With cruel
treachery, when these men presented themselves before Li Hung Chang to
offer their submission to the emperor, they were seized and beheaded. On
learning how lightly his word had been treated by the Chinese general,
Gordon armed himself, for the first time during the campaign with a
revolver, and sought out the Chinese headquarters intending to avenge
with his own hand this murder of the Tai-ping leaders. But Li Hung Chang
having received timely notice of the righteous anger he had aroused took
to flight, and Gordon, thus thwarted in his immediate object, threw up
his command feeling that it was impossible to continue to act with so
orientally-minded a colleague.
After considerable negotiation however, he was persuaded to return to
his command and soon succeeded in so completely crippling the power of
the rebels that in July 1864, Nanking, their last stronghold, fell into
the hands of the imperialists. Teen-wang was then already dead, and his
body was found within the walls wrapped in imperial yellow. Thus was
crushed out a rebellion which had paralyzed the imperial power in the
central provinces of the empire and which had for twelve years seriously
threatened the existence of the reigning dynasty.
[Illustration: OPIUM SMOKERS.]
Meanwhile in the summer following the conclusion of the treaty of
Peking, 1861, the emperor, Hien Feng, breathed his last at Jehol, an
event which was in popular belief foretold by the appearance of a comet
in the early part of the summer. He was succeeded to the throne by his
only son, a mere child, and the offspring of one of the imperial
concubines. He adopted the name of Tung Chih. On account of his youth
the administration of affairs was placed in the hands of the two dowager
empresses, the wife of the last emperor and the mother of the new one.
These regents were aided by the counsels of the boy emperor’s uncle,
Prince Kung.
Under the direction of these regents, though the internal affairs of the
empire prospered, the foreign relations were disturbed by the display of
an increasingly hostile spirit towards the Christian missionaries and
their converts, which culminated in 1870 in the Tien-tsin massacre. In
some of the central provinces reports had been industriously circulated
that the Roman Catholic missionaries were in the habit of kidnapping and
murdering children, in order to make medicine from their eyeballs.
Ridiculous as the rumor was, it found ready credence among the ignorant
people, and several outrages were perpetrated on the missionaries and
their converts in Kwang-hsi and Sze-chwan. Through the active
interference, however, of the French minister on the spot, the agitation
was locally suppressed only to be renewed at Tien-tsin. Here also the
same absurd rumors were set afloat, and were especially directed against
some sisters of charity who had opened an orphanage in the city.
For some days previous to the massacre on the 21st of June, reports
increasing in alarm reached the foreign residents that an outbreak was
to be apprehended, and three times the English consul wrote to Chung
How, the superintendent of the three northern ports, calling upon him to
take measures to subdue the gathering passions of the people which had
been further dangerously exasperated by an infamous proclamation issued
by the prefects. To these communications the consul did not receive any
reply, and on the morning of the 21st, a day which had apparently been
deliberately fixed for the massacre, the attack was made. The mob first
broke into the French consulate and while the consul, M. Fontanier, was
with Chung How endeavoring to persuade him to interfere, two Frenchmen
and their wives, and Father Chevrien were there murdered. While
returning the consul suffered the same fate. Having thus whetted their
taste for blood, the rioters then set fire to the French cathedral, and
afterward moved on to the orphanage of the sisters of mercy. In spite of
the appeals of these defenseless women for mercy, if not for themselves
at least for the orphans under their charge, the mob broke into the
hospital, killed and mutilated most shockingly all the sisters,
smothered from thirty to forty children in the vault, and carried off a
still larger number of older persons to prisons in the city, where they
were subjected to tortures of which they bore terrible evidence when
their release was at length affected. In addition to these victims, a
Russian gentleman with his bride, and a friend, who were unfortunate
enough to meet the rioters on their way to the cathedral, were also
murdered. No other foreigners were injured, a circumstance due to the
fact that the fury of the mob was primarily directed against the French
Roman Catholics, and also that the foreign settlement where all but
those engaged in missionary work resided, was at a distance of a couple
of miles from the city.
When the evil was done, the Chinese authorities professed themselves
anxious to make reparation, and Chung How was eventually sent to Paris
to offer the apologies of the Peking cabinet to the French government.
These were ultimately accepted; and it was further arranged that the
Tien-tsin prefect and district magistrate should be removed from their
posts and degraded, and that twenty of the active murderers should be
executed. By these retributive measures the emperor’s government made
its peace with the European powers, and the foreign relations again
assumed their former friendly footing.
The Chinese had now leisure to devote their efforts to the subjugation
of the Panthay rebels. This was a great Mohammedan uprising which dated
back as far as 1856 and which had for its object the separation of the
province of Yun-nan into an independent state. The visit of the adopted
son of the rebel leader, the sultan Suleiman, to England, for the
purpose of attempting to enlist the sympathies of the English government
in the Panthay cause, no doubt added zest to the action of the
mandarins, who after a short but vigorous campaign, marked by scenes of
bloodshed and wholesale carnage, suppressed the rebellion and restored
the province to the imperial sway.
Peace was thus brought about, and when the empresses handed over the
reigns of power to the emperor, on the occasion of his marriage in 1872,
tranquility reigned throughout the eighteen provinces. The formal
assumption of power proclaimed by this marriage was considered by the
foreign ministers a fitting opportunity to insist on the fulfillment of
the article in the treaties which provided for their reception by the
emperor, and after much negotiation it was finally arranged that the
emperor should receive them on the 29th of June, 1873.
Very early therefore on the morning of that day, the ministers were
astir and were conducted in their sedan chairs to the park on the west
side of the palace, where they were met by some of the ministers of
state, who led them to the “Temple of Prayer for Seasonable Weather.”
Here they were kept waiting for some time while tea and confectionery
from the imperial kitchen, by favor of the emperor, were served to them.
They were then conducted to an oblong tent made of matting on the west
side of the Tsze-kwang pavilion, where they were met by Prince Kung and
other ministers. As soon as the emperor reached the pavilion, the
Japanese ambassador was introduced into his presence and when he had
retired the other foreign ministers entered the audience chamber in a
body. The emperor was seated facing southward. On either side of his
majesty stood, with Prince Kung, several princes and high officers. When
the foreign ministers reached the center aisle they halted and bowed one
and all together; they then advanced in line a little further and made a
second bow; and when they had nearly reached the yellow table on which
their credentials were to be deposited they bowed a third time; after
which they remained erect. M. Vlangaly, the Russian minister, then read
a congratulatory address in French, which was translated by an
interpreter into Chinese, and the ministers making another reverence
respectfully laid their letters of credence upon the yellow table. The
emperor was pleased to make a slight inclination of the head towards
them, and Prince Kung advancing to the left of the throne and falling
upon his knees, had the honor to be informed in Manchoo that his majesty
acknowledged the receipt of the letters presented. Prince Kung, with his
arms raised according to precedent set by Confucius when in the presence
of his sovereign, came down by the steps on the left of the desk, to the
foreign ministers, and respectfully repeated this in Chinese. After this
he again prostrated himself, and in like manner received and conveyed a
message to the effect that his majesty hoped that all foreign questions
would be satisfactorily disposed of. The ministers then withdrew, bowing
repeatedly, until they reached the entrance.
Thus ended the first instance during the present century of Europeans
being received in imperial audience. Whether under more fortunate
circumstances the ceremony might have been repeated it is difficult to
say, but in the following year the young emperor was stricken down with
the small-pox, or “enjoyed the felicity of the heavenly flowers,” and
finally succumbed to the disease on the twelfth of January, 1875. With
great ceremony the funeral obsequies were performed over the body of him
who had been Tung Chih, and the coffin was finally laid in the imperial
mausoleum among the eastern hills beside the remains of his
predecessors. His demise was shortly afterwards followed by the death of
the girl empress he had just previously raised to the throne.
For the first time in the annals of the Ching dynasty, the throne was
now left without a direct heir. As it is the office of the son and heir
to perform regularly the ancestral worship, it is necessary that if
there should be no son, the heir should be, if possible, of a later
generation than the deceased. In the present instance this was
impossible, and it was necessary therefore that the lot should fall on
one of the cousins of the late emperor. Tsai-teen, the son of the Prince
of Chun, a child not quite four years old, was chosen to fill the vacant
throne, and the title conferred upon him was Kuang Su or “an inheritance
of glory.”
Scarcely had the proclamation gone forth of the assumption of the
imperial title by Kuang Su, when news reached the English legation at
Peking of the murder at Manwyne, in the province of Yun-nan, of Mr.
Margary, an officer in the consular service who had been dispatched to
meet an expedition sent by the Indian government, under the command of
Colonel Horace Browne, to discover a route from Birmah into the
south-western provinces of China. In accordance with conventional
practice, the Chinese government, on being called to account for this
outrage, attempted to lay it to the charge of brigands. But the evidence
which Sir Thomas Wade was able to adduce proved too strong to be ignored
even by the Peking mandarins, and eventually they signed a convention in
which they practically acknowledged their blood guiltiness, under the
terms of which some fresh commercial privileges were granted, and an
indemnity was paid.
At the same time a Chinese nobleman was sent to England to make apology,
and to establish an embassy on a permanent footing at the court of St.
James. Since that time the Chinese empire has been at peace with all
foreign powers until the eruptions of the recent months. There have been
some narrow escapes from war with the European countries holding
possessions on the southern Chinese border, but serious results have not
followed. Ministers have been maintained in China by the western
nations, and by China in the western capitals.
Under the child Kuang Su, who came to the throne in 1875, we have seen
the completion of Chinese re-conquests in Central Asia and the
restoration of Kuldja by the Russians. For many years the progressive
party in the nation’s councils, under the leadership of Li Hung Chang,
Viceroy of Chihli, gradually appeared to gain ground, amply posted as
the court of Peking was in the affairs of western countries. Even the
old conservative party, of which the successful and the aged general Tso
Tsung-tang was the representative, has vastly modified its tone in the
last twenty years.
It is true that the short experimental line of railway which had been
laid down between Shanghai and Wusung was objected to, and finally got
rid of by the Chinese government; but the reason for this apparently
retrograde step arose out of the not very scrupulous means employed by
the promoters of the scheme, and out of the very natural dislike of an
independent state to be forced into innovations for which it may not be
altogether prepared. Since that time several telegraph lines have been
constructed, beginning with the first one between Peking and Shanghai,
which formed the final connecting link between the capital of the
Chinese empire and the western civilized world. The freedom of residence
has been greatly extended to foreigners living in China. Travel has
become safer, and popular hatred towards foreigners not as apparent.
Slow as it has been to take effect, nevertheless the influence of closer
association with western civilization has made its impress on the
Chinese nation, and the extreme conservatism in many details has been
compelled to waver. The stories of the war which are to follow will
indicate much of the characteristics of the later day history of the
empire.
THE CHINESE EMPIRE.
--------------
Origin of the Name of China, and What the Chinese Call their Own
Country—Dependencies of the Empire—China and the United States in
Comparison—Their Many Physical Similarities—Mountains and Plains—The
Fertile Soil—Provinces of China—Rivers and Lakes—Climate—Fauna and
Flora—Industries of the People—Commerce with Foreign Nations—The Cities
of China—Forms of Government and Administration.
Until recent years the word China was unknown in the empire which we
call by that name, but of late it has become more familiar to the
Chinese, and in certain regions they are in fact adopting it for their
own use, owing to the frequency with which they hear it from the
foreigners with whom they are doing business. The name was no doubt
introduced in Europe and America from the nations of Central Asia who
speak of the Chinese by various names derived from that of the powerful
Ching family, who held sway many centuries ago. The names which the
Chinese use in speaking of themselves are various. The most common one
is Chung Kwo, the “Middle Kingdom.” This term grew up in the feudal
period as a name for the royal domain in the midst of the other states,
or for those states as a whole in the midst of the uncivilized countries
around them. The assumption of universal sovereignty, of being the
geographical center of the world, and also the center of light and
civilization that have been so injurious to the nation, appear in
several of the most ancient names. In the oldest classical writings the
country is called the Flowery Kingdom, flowery presenting the idea of
beautiful, cultivated, and refined. The terms Heavenly Flowery Kingdom,
and Heavenly Dynasty are sometimes used, the word heavenly presenting
the Chinese idea that the empire is established by the authority of
heaven, and that the emperor rules by divine right. This title has given
rise to the contemptuous epithet applied to the race by the Europeans,
“The Celestials.”
The Chinese empire, consisting of China proper and Manchooria, with its
dependencies of Mongolia, I-li and Thibet, embraces a vast territory in
eastern and central Asia, only inferior in extent to the dominions of
Great Britain and Russia. The dependencies are not colonies but subject
territories; and China proper itself indeed, has been a subject
territory of Manchooria since 1644.
China proper was divided nearly two hundred years ago into eighteen
provinces; and since the recent separation of the island of Formosa from
Fu-chien, and its constitution into an independent province, we may say
that it now consists of nineteen. These form one of the corners of the
Asiatic continent, having the Pacific ocean on the south and east. They
are somewhat in the shape of an irregular rectangle, and including the
island of Hainan lie between 18 and 49 degrees north latitude and 98 and
124 degrees east longitude. Their area is about two million square
miles, while the whole empire has an area more than twice that large.
In giving a correct general idea of China one cannot perhaps do better
than to institute a comparison between it and the United States, to
which it bears a striking resemblance. It occupies the same position in
the eastern hemisphere that the United States does in the western. Its
line of sea coast on the Pacific resembles that of the United States on
the Atlantic, not only in length but also in contour. Being found within
almost the same parallels of latitude, it embraces almost the same
variety of climate and production. A river as grand as the Mississippi,
flowing east, divides the empire into nearly two equal parts, which are
often designated as “north of the river” and “south of the river.” It
passes through an immense and fertile valley, and is supplied by
numerous tributaries having rise in mountain ranges on either side and
also in the Himalayas on the west. The area of China proper is about
two-thirds that of the states of the American union.
[Illustration: CHINESE MINERS.]
The resemblance holds also in the artificial divisions. While our
country is divided into more than forty states, China is divided into
nineteen provinces. As our states are divided into counties, so each
province has divisions called fu and each fu is again divided into about
an equal number of hien. These divisions and subdivisions of the
provinces are generally spoken of in English as departments or
prefectures, and districts, but they are much larger than our
corresponding counties and townships. And similarly to our own system of
government, each of these divisions and subdivisions has its own capital
or seat of civil power, in which the officers exercising jurisdiction
over it reside. The outer dependencies of the Chinese empire are
comparatively sparsely populated, and in this work, when China, without
specification, is mentioned, it is intended to refer to the eighteen
provinces exclusively, which include the vast proportion of the
population, intelligence and wealth of the empire.
As to the physical features of China proper, the whole territory may be
described as sloping from the mountainous regions of Thibet and Nepaul
towards the shores of the Pacific on the east and south. A far extending
spur of the Himalayas called the Nanling, or southern range, is the most
extensive mountain system. It commences in Yun-nan, and passing
completely through the country enters the sea at Ningpo. Except for a
few steep passes, it thus forms a continuous barrier that separates the
coast regions of south-eastern China from the rest of the country.
Numerous spurs are cast off to the south and east of it, which appear in
the sea as a belt of rugged islands. On the borders of Thibet to the
north and west of this range, the country is mountainous, while to the
east and from the great wall on the north to the Po-yang Lake in the
south, there is the great plain comprising an area of more than two
hundred thousand square miles and supporting in the five provinces
contained in it more than one hundred and seventy-five million people.
In the north-western provinces the soil is a brownish colored earth,
extremely porous, crumbling easily between the fingers, and carried far
and wide in clouds of dust. It covers the sub-soil to an enormous depth
and is apt to split perpendicularly in clefts which render traveling
difficult. Nevertheless by this cleavage it affords homes to thousands
of the people, who live in caves excavated near the bottom of the
cliffs. Sometimes whole villages are so formed in terraces of the earth
that rise one above another. The most valuable quality of this peculiar
soil is its marvelous fertility, as the fields composed of it require
scarcely any other dressing than a sprinkling of its own fresh loam. The
farmer in this way obtains an assured harvest two and even three times a
year. This fertility, provided there be a sufficient rainfall, seems
inexhaustible. The province of Shan-hsi has borne the name for thousands
of years of the “granary of the nation,” and it is, no doubt, due to the
distribution of this earth over its surface, that the great plain owes
its fruitfulness.
Geographically speaking the arrangement of the provinces of China is as
follows: On the north there are four provinces, Chihli, Shan-hsi,
Shen-hsi, and Kan-su; on the west two, Szechwan, the largest of all, and
Yun-nan; on the south two, Kwang-hsi and Kwang-tung; on the east four,
Fu-chien, Cheh-chiang, Chiang-su, and Shan-tung. The central area
enclosed by these twelve provinces is occupied by Honan, An-hui, Hoopih,
Hunan, Chiang-hsi, and Kwei-chau. The latter is a poor province, with
parts of it largely occupied by clans or tribes supposed to be the
aborigines. The island of Formosa, lying off the coast of Fu-chien,
ninety miles west of Amoy, is about two hundred and thirty-five miles in
length, fertile and rich in coal, petroleum, and camphor wood. The first
settlement of a Chinese population took place only in 1683, and the
greater part of it is still occupied by aboriginal tribes of a more than
ordinary high type. The population of these provinces is immense, but
the various estimates and alleged censuses fluctuate and vary so much
that it is impossible to give a definite number as the total. It is a
safe estimate however to say that the population of the Chinese empire
approximates four hundred million, or considerably more than one-fourth
the population of the world, and nearly as much as the total of all
Europe and America.
One of the most distinguishing features of China is found in the great
rivers. These are called for the most part “ho” in the north and
“chiang” (kiang) in the south. Two of these are famous and conspicuous
among the great rivers of the world, the Ho, Hoang-ho, or Yellow River,
and the Chiang, generally misnamed the Yang-tsze. The sources of these
two rivers are not far from one another. The Ho rises in the plain of
Odontala, which is a region of springs and small lakes, and the Chiang
from the mountains of Thibet only a few miles distant. The Ho pursues a
tortuous course first to the east and north until it crosses the great
wall into Mongolia. After flowing a long distance northward of the
Mongolian desert, to the northern limit of Shen-hsi, it then turns
directly south for a distance of five hundred miles. A right angle turns
its course again to the eastward and finally north-eastward, when it
flows into the Gulf of Pechili in the province of Shan-tung. The Chiang
on the contrary turns south where the Ho turns north, and then after a
general course to the eastward and northward, roughly parallel with its
fellow, flows into the Eastern Sea, not far from Shanghai.
Both rivers are exceedingly tortuous and their courses are only roughly
outlined here. Almost the very opening of Chinese history is an account
of one of the inundations of the Ho River, which has often in course of
time changed its channel. The terrible calamities caused by it so often
have procured for it the name of “China’s sorrow.” As recently as 1887
it burst its southern bank near Chang Chau, and poured its mighty flood
with hideous devastation, and the destruction of millions of lives, into
the populous province of Honan. Each of these rivers has a course of
more than three thousand miles. They are incomparably the greatest in
China, but there are many others which would be accounted great
elsewhere. In connection with inland navigation must be mentioned the
Grand Canal, intended to connect the northern and southern parts of the
empire by an easy water communication; and this it did when it was in
good order, extending from Peking to Hankow, a distance of more than six
hundred miles. Kublai Khan, the first sovereign of the Yuan dynasty,
must be credited with the glory of making this canal. Marco Polo
described it, and compliments the great ruler for the success of his
work. Steam communication all along the eastern seaboard from Canton to
Tien-tsin has very much superseded the use of the canal and portions of
it are now in bad condition, but as a truly imperial achievement it
continues to be a grand memorial of Kublai.
The Great Wall was another vast achievement of human labor, constructed
more than two thousand years ago. It has been alleged a myth at some
times, but its existence has not been denied since explorations have
been made to the north of China Proper. It was not as useful as the
canal, and it failed to answer the purpose for which it was intended, a
defense against the incursions of the northern tribes. In 214 B.C. the
Emperor Che Hwang Ti determined to erect a grand barrier all along the
northern limit of his vast empire. The wall commences at the Shan-hsi
pass on the north coast of the Gulf of Pechili. From this point it is
carried westward till it terminates at the Chia-yu barrier gate, the
road through which leads to the “western regions.” It is twice
interrupted in its course by the Ho River, and has several branch and
loop walls to defend certain cities and districts. Its length in a
straight line would be one thousand two hundred and fifty-five miles,
but if measured along its sinuosities this distance must be increased to
one thousand five hundred. It is not built so grandly in its western
portions after passing the Ho River, nor should it be supposed that to
the east of this point it is all solid masonry. It is formed by two
strong retaining walls of brick rising from granite foundations, the
space between being filled with stones and earth. The breadth of it at
the base is about twenty-five feet, at the top fifteen feet, and the
height varies from fifteen to thirty feet. The surface at the top was
once covered with bricks but is now overgrown with grass. What travelers
go to visit from Peking is merely a loop wall of later formation,
enclosing portions of Chihli and Shan-hsi.
China includes many lakes, but they are not so commanding in size as the
rivers. There are but three which are essential to mention. These are
the Tung-ting Hu, the largest, having a circumference of two hundred and
twenty miles, about in the center of the empire; the Po-yang Hu, half
way between the former and the sea; and the Tai Hu, not far from
Shanghai and the Yang-tsze River. The latter lake is famous for its
romantic scenery and numerous islets.
The peculiarities of climate along the Chinese coast are due in great
measure to the northern and southern monsoons, the former prevailing
with more or less uniformity during the winter, and the latter during
the summer months. These winds give a greater degree of heat in summer
and of cold in winter than is experienced in the United States in
corresponding latitudes. At Ningpo, situated in latitude 30, about that
of New Orleans, large quantities of ice are secured in the winter for
summer use. It is, however, very thin measured by what we think proper
ice for preservation. In this part of China snow not infrequently falls
to the depth of six or eight inches, and the hills are sometimes covered
with it for weeks in succession. In the northern provinces the winters
are very severe. In the vicinity of Peking, not only are the canals and
rivers closed during the winter, but all commerce by sea is suspended
during two or three months, while in the summer that part of China is
very warm. The period of the change of the monsoon, when the two
opposite currents are struggling with each other is marked by a great
fall of rain and by the cyclones which are so much dreaded by mariners
on the Chinese coast. The southern monsoon gradually loses its force in
passing northward, and is not very marked above latitude 32, though its
influence is decidedly felt in July and August. With the exception of
the summer months the climate of the northern coast of China is
remarkably dry; that of the southern coast is damp most of the year,
especially during the months of May, June, and July.
In different parts of the country almost every variety of climate can be
found, hot or cold, moist or dry, salubrious or malarial. The ports
which were at first opened as places of residence for foreigners were
unfortunately among the most unhealthful of the empire, not so much from
the enervating effects of their southerly latitude as from their local
miasmatic influences, being situated in the rice-producing districts and
surrounded more or less by stagnant water during the summer months.
Under the later treaties which opened new ports in the north, as well as
interior cities, foreigners have been permitted to live in regions whose
climates will compare favorably with most parts of our own country. The
Chinese themselves consider Kwang-tung, Kwang-hsi, and Yun-nan to be
less healthful than the other provinces; but foreigners using proper
precautions may enjoy their lives in every province.
The Chinese are essentially an agricultural people, and from time
immemorial they have held agriculture in the highest esteem as being the
means by which the soil has been induced to supply the primary wants of
the empire, food. Of course the climate and the nature of a district
determine the kind of farming appropriate to it. Agriculturally China
may be said to be divided into two parts by the Chiang. South of that
river, speaking generally, the soil and climate point to rice as the
appropriate crop, while to the north lie vast plains which as clearly
are best designed for growing wheat, barley, oats, Indian corn and other
cereals. Culinary or kitchen herbs, mushrooms, and aquatic vegetables,
with ginger and a variety of other condiments, are everywhere produced
and widely used. From Formosa there comes sugar, and the cane thrives
also in the southern provinces. Oranges, pomegranates, peaches,
plantains, pineapples, mangoes, grapes, and many other fruits and nuts
are supplied in most markets. The cultivation of opium is constantly on
the increase.
[Illustration: CHINESE FARM SCENE.]
Of course the use of tea as a beverage is a national characteristic. The
plant does not grow in the north, but is cultivated extensively in the
western provinces and in the southern. The infusion of the leaves was
little if at all drunk in ancient times, but now its use is universal.
Fu-chien, Hoopih, and Hu-nan produce the greater part of the black teas;
the green comes chiefly from Cheh-chiang and An-hui; both kinds comes
from Kwang-tung and Sze-chwan. Next to silk, if not equally with it, tea
is China’s most valuable export. From rice and millet the Chinese
distill alcoholic liquors, but they are very sparingly used and it is a
compliment to the temperate inclinations of the people, that immediately
upon the opening of tea houses many years ago, the places for selling
liquor found themselves empty of business and were soon compelled to
close.
[Illustration: CHINESE TEA FARM.]
Birds and animals are found in great variety, though the country is too
thickly peopled and well cultivated to harbor many wild and dangerous
beasts. One occasionally hears of a tiger that has ventured from the
forest and been killed or captured, but the lion was never a denizen of
China and is only to be seen rampant in stone in front of temples. The
rhinoceros, elephant, and tapir are said still to exist in the forests
and swamps of Yun-nan; but the supply of elephants at Peking for the
carriage of the emperor when he proceeds to the great sacrificial altars
has been decreasing for several reigns. Both the brown and the black
bear are found, and several varieties of the deer family, of which the
musk deer is highly valued. Among the domestic animals the breed of
horses and cattle is dwarfish and no attempts seem to be made to improve
them. The ass is a more lively animal in the north than it is in
European countries or America, and receives much attention. About Peking
one is struck by many beautiful specimens of the mule. Princes are seen
riding on mules, or drawn by them in handsome litters, while their
attendants accompany them on horseback. The camel is seen only in the
north. Many birds of prey abound, including minos, crows, and magpies.
The people are fond of songbirds, especially the thrush, the canary, and
the lark. The lovely gold and silver pheasants are well known, and also
the mandarin duck, the emblem to the Chinese of conjugal fidelity. Many
geese too are reared and eaten, while the ducks are artificially
hatched. The number of pigs is enormous and fish are a plentiful supply
of food.
[Illustration: CHINESE STREET SCENE.]
The people are very fond of flowers and are excellent gardeners, but
their favorites are mostly cultivated in pots instead of in beds.
Silk, linen, and cotton furnish abundant provision for the clothing of
the race. China was no doubt the original home of silk. The mulberry
tree grows everywhere and silk worms flourish as widely. In all
provinces some silk is produced, but the best is furnished from
Kwang-tung, Sze-chwan, and Cheh-chiang. From the twenty-third century
B.C. and earlier, the care of the silk worm and the spinning and weaving
of its produce have been the special work of women. As it is the duty of
the sovereign to turn over a few furrows in the spring to stimulate the
people to their agricultural tasks, so his consort should perform an
analogous ceremony with her silk worms and mulberry trees. The
manufactures of silk are not inferior to or less brilliant than any that
are produced in Europe, and nothing can exceed the embroidery of the
Chinese. The cotton plant appears to have been introduced some eight
hundred years ago from Eastern Turkestan and is now cultivated most
extensively in the basin of the Chiang River. The well known nankeen is
named for Nanking, a center for its manufacture. Of woolen fabrics the
production is not large, but there are felt caps, rugs of camels hair
and furs of various kinds.
[Illustration: CHINESE FARMER.]
While the Chinese have done justice to most of the natural capabilities
of their country, they have greatly failed in developing its mineral
resources. The skill which their lapidaries display in cutting the
minerals and jewels is well known, but in the development of the
utilitarian minerals they have been very negligent. The coal fields of
China are enormous, but the majority of them can hardly be said to be
more than scratched. Immense deposits of iron ore are still untouched.
Copper, lead, tin, silver, and gold are known to exist in many places,
but little has been done to make the stores of them available. More
attention has been directed to their mines since their government and
companies began to have steamers of their own and a scheme has been
approved by the government for working the gold mines in the valley of
the Amoor River. With the government once conscious of its mineral
wealth, there is no limit to the results which it may bring about.
The commerce of China with the western nations has been constantly on
the increase for many years. The number of vessels entering and clearing
at the various treaty ports is now between thirty thousand and
thirty-five thousand annually, and the value of the whole trade, import
and export, approximates $300,000,000 annually. Of course the two
principal exports are tea and silk. About half of the trade is done by
means of vessels under the British flag, and nearly half of the
remainder are vessels of foreign type, but owned by Chinese and sailing
under the Chinese flag.
The capitals of the different divisions of the empire are all walled
cities, and these form a striking feature of the country. There are
important distinctions between the cities of the third class, most of
which are designated as hien, a few as cheo and others as ting. Though
varying considerably in size, these different cities present nearly the
uniform appearance. They are surrounded by walls from twenty to
thirty-five feet in height, and are entered by large arched gateways
which open into the principal streets and are shut and barred at night.
These walls are from twenty to twenty-five feet thick at the base and
somewhat narrower at the top. The outside is of solid masonry from two
to four feet thick, built of hewn stone, or bricks backed with earth,
broken tiles, etc. There is generally a lighter stone facing on the
inside. The outside is surmounted by a parapet with embrasures generally
built of brick.
The circumferences of the provincial cities vary from eight to fifteen
miles; those of the fu cities from four to ten miles, and those of the
hien cities from two or three to five miles. Some of the larger and more
important cities contain a smaller one, with its separate walls,
enclosed within the larger outside walls. This is the Tartar or military
city. It is occupied exclusively by Tartars with their families, forming
a colony or garrison, and numbering generally several thousand soldiers.
In times of insurrection and rebellion the emperor depends principally
upon these Tartar colonies to hold possession of the cities where they
are stationed. In such emergencies the inhabitants of these enclosed
Tartar cities, knowing that their lives and the lives of their families
are at stake, defend themselves with great desperation.
The provincial capitals contain an average population of nearly one
million inhabitants; the fu cities from one hundred thousand to six
hundred thousand or even more, while the cities of the third class,
which are much more numerous, generally contain several tens of
thousands. The most of these towns of different classes have outgrown
their walls, and frequently one-fourth or even one-third of the
inhabitants live in the suburbs, which in some cases extend three or
four miles outside the walls in different directions. Property is less
valuable in these suburbs, not only because it is removed from the
business parts of the city, but also because it is more liable to be
destroyed in times of rebellion. All the names to be found on even our
largest maps of China, are the names of walled cities, and many of those
of the third class are not down for want of space. The total number of
these cities is more than one thousand seven hundred. From the number
and size of the cities of China it might be inferred that they contain
the greater portion of the inhabitants of the empire. This is however by
no means the case. The Chinese are mainly an agricultural people and
live for the most part in the almost innumerable villages which
everywhere dot its fertile plains. A detached or isolated farm house is
seldom seen. The country people live in towns or hamlets for the sake of
society and mutual protection. Most of the cities, even the smaller
ones, have thousands of these villages under their jurisdiction. In the
more populous parts of China will frequently be found, within a radius
of three or four miles, from one hundred and fifty to two hundred of
these villages.
The estimate of population made on a previous page gives an average
population of about three hundred persons to the square mile, while that
of Belgium and some other European countries is greater. Perhaps no
country in the world is more fertile and capable of supporting a dense
population than China. Every available spot of ground is brought under
cultivation, and nearly all the land is made use of to provide food for
man, pasture fields being almost unknown. The masses of China eat very
little animal food, and what they do eat is mostly pork and fowls, the
raising of which requires little or no waste of ground. The
comparatively few horses and cattle and sheep which are found in the
country are kept in stables, or graze upon the hill tops, or are
tethered by the sides of canals. Taking these facts into consideration,
that an extended and exceedingly fertile country under the highest state
of cultivation, is taxed to its utmost capacity to supply the wants of a
frugal and industrious people, the estimate of population need not
excite incredulity.
Nearly all of the cities marked on our maps of the coast of China, are
now open ports for traffic and residence of foreigners. The most
northerly of these is Niuchwang and the most southern Pak-hoi, while
between these familiar names are those of Canton, Swatow, Amoy, Foochow,
Ningpo, Shanghai, Tien-tsin and several others. Interior cities that
have been opened to foreigners include a number on the Chiang River, the
one farthest inland being I-chang. Peking is also accessible to
foreigners; and several ports on the islands of Hainan and Formosa are
opened by treaty. The population of these cities cannot be told with
much exactness, as the Chinese census can scarcely claim accuracy. But
the largest cities, such as Canton and Peking, are generally credited,
in common with several others even smaller, with passing the million
mark.
[Illustration: AN IMPERIAL AUDIENCE.]
The Chinese government is one of the great wonders of history. It
presents to-day the same character which it possessed more than three
thousand years ago, and which it has retained ever since, during a
period which covers the authentic history of the world. The government
may be described as being in theory a patriarchal despotism. The emperor
is the father of his people, and just as in a family the father’s law is
supreme, so the emperor exercises complete control over his subjects,
even to the extent of holding, under certain recognized conditions,
their lives in his hands. But from time immemorial it has been held by
the highest constitutional authorities that the duties existing between
the emperor and his people are reciprocal, and that though it is the
duty of the people to render a loyal and willing obedience to the
emperor, so long as his rule is just and beneficent, it is equally
incumbent upon them to resist his authority, to depose him, and even to
put him to death, in case he should desert the paths of rectitude and
virtue.
As a matter of fact however, it is very difficult to say what extent of
power the emperor actually wields. The outside world sees only the
imperial bolts, but how they are forged or whose is the hand that shoots
them none can tell. The most common titles of the emperor are
Hwang-Shang, “The August Lofty One,” and Tien-Tsz, “The Son of Heaven.”
He lives in unapproachable grandeur, and is never seen except by members
of his own family and high state officers, save once a year when he
gives audience to few foreign diplomats. Nothing is omitted which can
add to the dignity and sacredness of his person or character. Almost
everything used by him or in his service is tabooed from the common
people, and distinguished by some peculiar mark or color so as to keep
up the impression of awe with which he is regarded, and which is so
powerful an auxiliary to his throne. The outward gate of the palace must
always be passed on foot, and the paved entrance walk leading up to it
can be used only by him. The vacant throne, or even a screen of yellow
silk thrown over a chair, is worshipped equally with his actual
presence, and an imperial dispatch is received in the provinces with
incense and prostration.
[Illustration: PREPARATION OF VERMICELLI.]
The throne is not strictly and necessarily hereditary, though the son of
the emperor generally succeeds to it. The emperor appoints his
successor, but it is supposed that in doing so he will have supreme
regard for the best good of his subjects, and will be governed by the
will of heaven, indicated by the conferring of regal gifts, and by
providential circumstances pointing out the individual whom heaven has
chosen. Of course in the case of unusually able men, such as the second
and fourth rulers of the present dynasty, their influence is more felt
than that of less energetic rulers; but the throne of China is so hedged
in with ceremonials and so padded with official etiquette that unless
its occupant be a man of supreme ability he cannot fail to fall under
the guidance of his ministers and favorites. In governing so large a
realm, of course it is necessary for the emperor to delegate his
authority to numerous officers who are regarded as his agents and
representatives in carrying out the imperial will. What they do the
emperor does through them. The recognized patriarchal character of the
government is seen in the familiar expressions of the people,
particularly at times when they consider themselves injured or aggrieved
by their officers, when they are apt to say, “A strange way for parents
to treat their children.”
The government of the empire, omitting the regulation of the imperial
court and family, or the special Manchoo department, is conducted from
the capital, supervising, directing, controlling the different
provincial administrations, and exercising the power of removing from
his post any official whose conduct may be irregular or dangerous to the
state.
There is the Grand Cabinet, the privy council of the emperor, in whose
presence it meets daily to transact the business of the state, between
the hours of 4:00 and 6:00 A.M. Its members are few and hold other
offices. There is also the Grand Secretariat, formerly the supreme
council, but under the present dynasty very much superseded by the
Cabinet. It consists of four grand and two assistant grand secretaries,
half of them Manchoos and half Chinese. The business on which the
Cabinet deliberates comes before it from the six boards or Luh-pu. These
are departments of long standing in the government, having been modeled
on much the same plan during the ancient dynasties. At the head of each
board are two presidents, called Shang-shu, and four vice-presidents
called Shi-lang, alternately a Manchoo and a Chinese. There are three
subordinate grades of officers in each board, with a great number of
minor clerks, and their appropriate departments for conducting the
details of the general and peculiar business coming under the cognizance
of the board, the whole being arranged in the most business-like style.
[Illustration: NEWLY MARRIED.]
[Illustration: YOUNG LADY OF QUALITY.]
[CHINESE LADIES.]
The six boards are respectively of Civil Office, of Revenue, of
Ceremonies, of War, of Punishments, and of Works. In 1861 the changed
relations between the empire and foreign nations led to the formation of
what may be called a seventh board styled the Tsung-li Yamen, or Court
of Foreign Affairs. There is also another important department which
must be mentioned, the censorate, members of which exercise a
supervision over the board, and are entrusted with the duty of exposing
errors and crimes in every department of government. Distributed through
the provinces they memorialize the emperor on all subjects connected
with the welfare of the people and the conduct of the government.
Sometimes they do not shrink even from the dangerous task of criticising
the conduct of the emperor himself.
The different boards are all charged with the superintendence of the
affairs of the eighteen provinces into which the empire is divided.
Fifteen of these provinces are grouped into eight vice-royalties, and
the remaining three are administered by a governor. Each province is
autonomous, or nearly so, and the supreme authorities, whether viceroys
or governors, are practically independent so long as they act in
accordance with the very minute regulations laid down for their
guidance. The principal function of the Peking government is to see that
these regulations are carried out, and in case they should not be to
call the offending viceroy or governor to account. Below the
governor-general or governor of a province, are the lieutenant-governor,
commonly called the treasurer, the provincial judge, the
salt-comptroller, and the grain-intendant. The provinces are further
divided for the purposes of administration into prefectures,
departments, and districts. Each has its officers, magistrates, and a
whole host of petty underlings. The rank of the different officials in
these provinces is indicated by a knob or button on the top of their
caps. In the two highest it is made of red coral; in the third it is
clear blue; in the fourth it is lapis lazuli; in the fifth of crystal;
in the sixth of an opaque white stone; and in the three lowest it is
yellow, of gold or gilt. They also wear insignia or badges embroidered
on a square patch in the front or back of their robes, representing
birds on the civilians and animals on the military officers.
Each viceroy raises his own army and navy, which he pays, or sometimes
unfortunately does not pay, out of the revenues of the government. He
levies his own taxes, and except in particular cases is the final court
of appeal in all judicial matters within the limits of his rule. But in
return for this latitude allowed him, he is held personally responsible
for the good government of his territory. If by any chance serious
disturbances break out and continue unsuppressed, he is called to
account, as having by his misconduct contributed to them, and he in his
turn looks to his subordinates to maintain order and execute justice
within their jurisdiction. Of himself he has no power to remove or
punish subordinate officials, but has to refer all complaints against
them to Peking. The personal responsibility resting upon him of
maintaining order makes him a severe critic on those who serve under
him, and very frequently junior officials are impeached and punished at
the instigation of their chief. Incapable and unworthy officials,
constant opium smokers, those who misappropriate public money, and those
who fail to arrest criminals, are those who meet swift punishment. On
the whole the conduct of junior officials is carefully watched.
[Illustration: PALANQUIN OF A HIGH OFFICIAL.]
As has been already said, the affairs of each province are administered
by the viceroy, or governor, and his subordinates, and speaking
generally their rule is as enlightened and as just as could be expected
in an oriental country where public opinion finds only a very imperfect
utterance. Official purity and justice must be treated as comparative
terms in China. The constitution of the civil service renders it next to
impossible that any office holder can be clean-handed. The salaries
awarded are low, out of all proportion to the necessary expenses
pertaining to the offices to which they are apportioned, and the
consequence is that in some way or other the officials are compelled to
make up the deficiency from the pockets of those subject to them. As a
rule, mandarins seldom enter office with private fortunes, and the
wealth therefore, which soothes the declining years of veteran
officials, may be fairly assumed to be ill-gotten gain. There are laws
against these exactions, and very often some magistrate is degraded or
executed for levying illegal assessments. The immunity which some
mandarins enjoy from the just consequences of their crimes, and the
severity with which the law is vindicated in the cases of others for
much lighter offenses, has a sinister aspect. But in a system of which
bribery and corruption practically form a part, one need not expect to
find purity in any direction. And it is not too much to say that the
whole civil service is, judged by an American standard, corrupt to the
core. The people however are lightly taxed and they readily submit to
limited extortion so long as the rule of the mandarin is otherwise just
and beneficent.
[Illustration: THE GOVERNOR OF A PROVINCE.]
How rarely does a mandarin earn the respect and affection of the people
is obvious from the great parade which is made on the departure from
their posts of the very occasional officials who are fortunate enough to
have done so. Archdeacon Gray relates that during his residence of a
quarter of a century at Canton he only met one man who had entitled
himself to the regret of the people at his departure. When the time came
for this man to leave the city, the people rose in multitudes to do him
honor and begged for him to return if he could. A somewhat similar scene
occurred at Tien-tsin in 1861, on the departure of the most benevolent
prefect that the city had ever seen. The people accompanied him beyond
the gate on his road to Peking with every token of honor and finally
begged from him his boots, which they carried back in triumph and hung
up as a memento in the temple of the city god. Going to the opposite
extreme, it sometimes happens that the people, goaded into rebellion by
a sense of wrong, rise in arms against some particularly obnoxious
mandarin and drive him from the district. But the Chinese are
essentially unwarlike, and it must be some act of gross oppression to
stir their blood to fever heat.
A potent means of protection against oppression is granted to the people
by the appointment of imperial censors throughout the empire, whose duty
it is to report to the throne all cases of misrule, injustice, or
neglect on the part of the mandarins which come to their knowledge. The
same tolerance which is shown by the people towards the shortcomings and
ill deeds of the officials, is displayed by these men in the discharge
of their duties. Only aggravated cases make them take their pens in
hand, but when they do, it must be confessed that they show little
mercy. Neither are they respectors of persons; their lash falls alike on
all from the emperor on his throne to the police-runners in magisterial
courts. Nor is their plain speaking more amazing than the candor with
which their memorials affecting the characters of great and small alike
are published in the Peking Gazette. The gravest charges, such as of
peculation, neglect of duty, injustice, or incompetence, are brought
against mandarins of all ranks and are openly published in the official
paper.
[Illustration: PUNISHMENT BY THE GANGUE.]
In the administration of justice the same lax morality as in other
branches of government exists, and bribery is largely resorted to by
litigants, more especially in civil cases. As a rule money in excess of
the legal fees has in the first instance to be paid to clerks and
secretaries before a case can be put down for hearing, and a decision of
the presiding mandarin is too often influenced by the sums of money
which find their way into his purse from the pockets of either suitor.
But the greatest blot on Chinese administration is the inhumanity shown
to both culprits and witnesses in criminal procedure. Tortures of the
most painful and revolting kind are used to extort evidence, and
punishments scarcely more severely cruel are inflicted on the guilty
parties. Flogging with bamboos, beating the jaws with thick pieces of
leather, or the ankles with a stick, are some of the preliminary
tortures applied to witnesses or culprits who refuse to give the
evidence expected of them. Further refinements of cruelty are reserved
for hardened offenders by means of which infinite pain and often
permanent injury are inflicted.
[Illustration: FLOGGING A CULPRIT.]
It follows as a natural consequence that in a country where torture is
thus resorted to the punishments inflicted on criminals must be
proportionately cruel. Death, the final punishment, can unfortunately be
inflicted in various ways, and a sliding scale of capital punishments is
used by the Chinese to mark their sense of the varying heinousness of
murderous crimes. For parricide, matricide and wholesale murders, the
usual sentence is that of Ling-che, or “ignominious and slow death.” In
the carrying out of this sentence the culprit is fastened to a cross,
and cuts varying in number, at the discretion of the judge, from eight
to one hundred and twenty are made first on the face and fleshy parts of
the body, next the heart is pierced, and finally when death has been
thus caused, the limbs are separated from the body and divided. During a
recent year ten cases in which this punishment was inflicted were
reported in the official Peking Gazette. In ordinary cases of capital
punishment execution by beheading is the common mode. This is a speedy
and merciful death, the skill gained by frequent experience enabling the
executioner in almost every case to perform his task with one blow.
Another death which is less horrible to Chinamen, who view any
mutilation of the body as an extreme disgrace, is by strangulation. The
privilege of so passing out of the world is accorded at times to
influential criminals, whose crimes are not of so heinous a nature as to
demand their decapitation; and occasionally they are even allowed to be
their own executioners.
Asiatics are almost invariably careless about the sufferings of others,
and the men of China are no exception to the rule. It is almost
impossible to exaggerate the horrors of a Chinese prison. The filth and
dirt of the rooms, the brutality of the jailers, the miserable diet, and
the entire absence of the commonest sanitary arrangements make a picture
which is too horrible to draw in detail.
Chinese law-givers have distinguished very markedly between crimes
accompanied and unaccompanied with violence. For offenses of the latter
description, punishments of a comparatively light nature are inflicted,
such as wearing a wooden collar, and piercing the ears with arrows, to
the ends of which are attached slips of paper on which are inscribed the
crime of which the culprit has been guilty. Frequently the criminals
bearing these signs of their disgrace are paraded up and down the street
where their offense was committed, and sometimes in more serious cases
they are flogged through the leading thoroughfares of the city, preceded
by a herald who announces the nature of their misdemeanors. But to give
a list of Chinese punishments will be to exhaust the ingenuity of man to
torture his fellow creatures. The subject is a horrible one and it is a
relief to turn from the dingy prison gates and the halls of so-called
justice.
After this review of the impersonal, and the material, and the official
character of the Chinese empire as a nation, let us now turn to the more
personal consideration of the people themselves, their characteristics,
and their manner of life and thought.
[Illustration:
OUTSIDE PEKING.
From a Sketch.
]
THE CHINESE PEOPLE.
--------------
Severity of the Judgment of Americans and Chinese Against One
Another—Each Sees the Worst Side of the Other—Characteristics of the
Chinese, Their Physique, Temperament, and Morals—Tests of
Intellectuality—Marriage Customs of the Chinese—The Engagement—The
Wedding Ceremony—The Position of Women—Concubinage—Divorce—Family
Relationships—Dress of Men and Women—Distorted Feet versus
Queues—Chinese Houses and Home Life—Children—Education and
Schools—National Festivities—Music and Art—Chinese Religions—Language
and Literature.
In treating of the personal characteristics and customs of the Chinese
people it is the desire of the writer to get away from the hackneyed
descriptions of pigtails, shaven heads, thick soled shoes, assumption of
dignity and superiority, and great ignorance concerning many subjects
with which we are familiar, which usually mark the pages of articles and
books concerning this race. The Chinaman is believed by many to be the
personification of stupidity, and many writers who wish to make readable
matter gladly seize upon and exaggerate anything which can be made to
appear grotesque and ridiculous. It would be but a poor answer to these
views to say that they correspond remarkably with those which the
Chinese entertain of us. They also enjoy a great deal of pleasantry at
our expense, finding it almost impossible to regard otherwise than as
ludicrous our short cropped hair, tight fitting, ungraceful, and
uncomfortable looking clothes, men’s thin soled leather shoes, tall
stiff hats, gloves in summer time, the wasp-like appearance of ladies
with their small waists, our remarkable ignorance of the general rules
of propriety, and the strange custom of a man and his wife walking
together in public! These views we can afford to laugh at as relating to
comparatively trivial matters, but they think they have the evidence
that we are also inferior to them in intellectuality, in refinement, in
civilization, and especially morals. It is evident that one party or the
other has made a serious mistake, and it would be but a natural and
reasonable presumption that both may have erred to some extent. We
should look at this matter from an impartial standpoint, and take into
view not simply facts which are comparatively unimportant and
exceptional, but those which are fundamental and of widespread
influence, and should construe these facts justly and generously. We
should take pains not to form the judgment that because a people or a
custom is different from our own it is therefore necessarily worse.
There are many reasons why unfair judgments have been formed by us
against the Chinese and by the Chinese against Europeans and Americans.
Each nation is apt to see the worst side of the other. It so happens
that the Chinese who have come to America are almost all from the
southern provinces and from the lower classes of the worst part of the
empire. We have formed many of our impressions from our observation of
these low class adventurers. They on the other hand have not received
the treatment here which would cause them to carry back to China kindly
opinions of Americans.
In China the same or similar conditions have existed. In the open ports,
where a large foreign commerce has sprung up, an immense number of
Chinese congregate from the interior. Many of them are adventurers who
come to these places to engage in the general scramble for wealth. The
Chinamen of the best class are, as a matter of fact, not the most
numerous in the open ports. Moreover foreign ideas and customs prevail
to a great extent in these foreign communities, and the natives,
whatever they might have been originally, gradually become more or less
denationalized, and present a modified type of their race. The Chinese
being every day brought into contact with drunken sailors and
unscrupulous traders from the west, new lessons are constantly learned
from them in the school of duplicity and immorality. The Chinese of this
class are no fitting type of the race. It is an accepted fact that the
great seaports of the world, where international trade holds sway, are
the worst centers of vice, and no estimate of a people formed from these
cities can be just.
The Chinese as a race are of a phlegmatic and impassive temperament, and
physically less active and energetic than European and American nations.
Children are not fond of athletic and vigorous sports, but prefer
marbles, kite flying, and quiet games of ball or spinning tops. Men take
an easy stroll for recreation, but never a rapid walk for exercise and
are seldom in a hurry or excited. They are also characteristically timid
and docile. But while the Chinese are deficient in active courage and
daring, they are not in passive resistance. They are comparatively
apathetic as regards pain and death, and have great powers of physical
endurance as well as great persistency and obstinacy. Physical
development and strength and longevity vary in different parts of the
empire. In and about Canton, as well as in most parts of the south, from
which we have derived most of our impressions of China, the people are
small in stature; but in the province of Shan-tung in the north, men
varying in height from five feet eight inches to six feet are very
common, while some of them are considerably taller. In this part of
China too, one frequently finds laborers more than seventy years of age
working daily at their trades, and it is not unusual to hear of persons
who have reached the age of ninety or more.
The intellectuality of the Chinese is made evident by so many obvious
and weighty facts, that it seems strange that persons of ordinary
intelligence and information should ever have questioned it. We have
before us a system of government and code of laws which will bear
favorable comparison with those of European nations, and have elicited a
generous tribute of admiration and praise from the most competent
students. The practical wisdom and foresight of those who constructed
this system are evidenced by the fact that it has stood the test of
time, enduring longer than any other which man has devised during the
world’s history; that it has bound together under one common rule, a
population to which the world affords no parallel, and given a degree of
prosperity and wealth which may well challenge our wonder. It is
intelligent thought which has given China such a prominence in the east
and also in the eyes of Christendom. She may well point with pride to
her authentic history reaching back through more than thirty centuries;
to her extensive literature, containing many works of sterling and
permanent value; to her thoroughly elaborated language possessed of a
remarkable power of expression; to her list of scholars, and her
proficiency in belles-lettres. If these do not constitute evidences of
intellectuality, it would be difficult to say where such evidences could
be found, or on what basis we ourselves will rest our claim of
intellectual superiority.
China has been so arrogant and extravagant in her assumptions of
pre-eminence, that we have perhaps for this very reason been indisposed
to accord to her the position to which she is fairly entitled. It should
be remembered, that ignorant until recently of western nations, as they
have been of her, she has compared herself simply with the nations
around her, and a partial excuse for her overweening self conceit may be
found in the fact that she only regarded herself as the nations with
which she is acquainted have regarded her. She has been for ages the
great center of light and civilization in eastern Asia. She has given
literature and religion to Japan, to Corea, and to Manchooria, and has
been looked up to by these and other smaller nations as their
acknowledged teacher. The Japanese have produced no great teachers or
sages which they would presume to compare with those of China; and it is
clearest evidence of their acknowledgment of the literary superiority of
the Chinese that they use Chinese classics as text books in their
schools much as we do those of Greece and Rome. It is true that the
Chinese know hardly anything of the modern arts and sciences and that
there is no word in their language to designate some of them; but how
much did our ancestors know two hundred years ago of chemistry, geology,
philosophy, anatomy, and other kindred sciences. What did we know fifty
years ago of the steamboat, the railroad, and the telegraph? And is our
comparative want of knowledge a few years ago and that of our ancestors
to be taken as evidence of inferiority of race and intellect?
Furthermore, if we go back a few hundred years we are apt to find many
things to establish the claims of the Chinese as a superior rather than
inferior race. There are excellent grounds to credit the Chinese with
the invention or discovery of printing, the use of the magnetic needle,
the manufacture and use of gunpowder, of silk fabrics, and of chinaware
and porcelain, and there seems no doubt that the Chinese discovered
America from the westward, long before the discoveries of Europeans.
Intellectual power manifests itself in a variety of ways, and glaring
defects are often found associated in the same individual with
remarkable powers and capabilities, as particular faculties both of mind
and body are often cultivated and developed at the expense of others.
Chinese education has very little regard to the improvement of the
reasoning powers, and Chinese scholars are deficient in logical acumen
and very inferior to the Hindoos in this respect; but in developing and
storing the memory they are without a rival. Again their system of
training effectually discourages and precludes freedom and originality
of thought, while it has the compensating advantages of creating a love
of method and order, habitual subjection to authority, and a remarkable
uniformity in character and ideas. Perhaps the results which they have
realized in fusing such a vast mass of beings into one homogeneous body,
could have been reached in no other way.
The morality of the Chinese presents another subject about which there
is a wide difference of opinion. It may be a matter of interest and
profit to turn for a moment to the views which the Chinese generally
entertain of our morality, and their reasons for these views. They are
all familiar with the fact that foreigners introduced opium into China,
in opposition to the earnest and persistent remonstrances of the Chinese
government; that out of the opium trade grew the first war with China;
and that when the representatives of Christian England urged the Chinese
government to legalize the trade and make it a source of revenue, the
Chinese emperor replied that he would not use as a means of revenue that
which brought suffering and misery upon his people.
The Chinese form their opinions of western morality to a great extent
from the sailors on shore-leave at the open ports, and these men are
proverbially vicious under such circumstances. For years foreigners of
this class have commanded many of the piratical fleets on the coasts of
China, and foreign thieves and robbers have infested many of the inland
canals and rivers. In business dealings with strangers from western
lands the natives find that duplicity and dishonesty are not confined to
their own people. Replying to our criticism of the system of
concubinage, the Chinese point to the numerous class of native women in
the foreign communities, fostered and patronized by foreigners alone,
who appear in the streets with an effrontery which would be regarded as
utterly indecent and intolerable in most Chinese cities. The large
importation from Europe of obscene pictures which are offered at every
hand, is another fact which the educated Chinese cites in answer to
criticisms of his people’s morality.
On the general subject of morality and Chinese moral teaching, two
quotations from the writings of eminent Englishmen who lived in China
for many years are pertinent. Sir John Davis says: “The most commendable
feature of the Chinese system is the general diffusion of elementary
moral education among the lower orders. It is in the preference of moral
to physical instruction that even we might perhaps wisely take a leaf
out of the Chinese book, and do something to reform this most mechanical
age of ours.” The opinion of Thomas Taylor Meadows is thus expressed:
“No people whether of ancient or modern times has possessed a sacred
literature so completely exempt as the Chinese from licentious
descriptions and from every offensive expression. There is not a single
sentence in the whole of their sacred books and their annotations that
may not when translated word for word be read aloud in any family in
England.”
It must be acknowledged that the Chinese give many evidences, not only
in their literature, but also in their paintings and sculpture, of a
scrupulous care to avoid all indecent and immoral associations and
suggestions. In referring to the above peculiarity of Chinese views and
customs, these remarks are not, of course, concerning the private lives
and practices of the people, but of their standard of propriety and of
what the public taste requires, in objects which are openly represented
to be seen and admired by the young and old of both sexes.
The government of the empire is modeled on the government of a
household, and at the root of all family ties, says one of the Chinese
classics, is the relation of husband and wife, which is as the relation
of heaven and earth. Chinese historians record that the rite of marriage
was first instituted by the Emperor Fuh-he, who reigned in the
twenty-eighth century B.C. But before this period there is abundant
evidence to show that as amongst all other peoples the first form of
marriage was by capture. At the present day marriage is probably more
universal in China than in any other civilized country in the world, for
it is regarded as something indispensable and few men pass the age of
twenty without taking to themselves a wife. To die without leaving
behind a son to perform the burial rites and to offer up the fixed
periodical sacrifices at the tomb, is one of the most direful fates that
can overtake a Chinaman, and he seeks to avoid it by an early marriage.
Like every other rite in China that of marriage is fenced in with a host
of ceremonies. In a vast majority of cases the bridegroom never sees his
bride until the wedding night, it being considered a grave breach of
etiquette for young men and maidens to associate together or even to see
one another. Of course it does occasionally happen that either by
stealth or chance a pair become acquainted; but whether they have thus
associated, or whether they are perfect strangers, the first formal
overture must of necessity be made by a professional go-between, who
having received a commission from the parents of a young man, proceeds
to the house of the young woman and makes a formal proposal on behalf of
the would-be bridegroom’s parents. If the young lady’s father approves
the proposed alliance, the suitor sends the lady some presents as an
earnest of his intentions.
The parents next exchange documents which set forth the hour, day,
month, and year when the young people were born, and the maiden names of
their mothers. Astrologers are then called in to cast the horoscopes,
and should these be favorable the engagement is formally entered into,
but not so irrevocably that there are not several orthodox ways of
breaking it off. But should things go smoothly, the bridegroom’s father
writes a formal letter of agreement to the lady’s father, accompanied by
presents, consisting in some cases of sweetmeats and a live pig, and in
others of a goose and gander, which are regarded as emblems of conjugal
fidelity. Two large cards are also prepared by the bridegroom, and on
these are written the particulars of the engagement. One is sent to the
lady and the other he keeps. She in return now makes a present to the
suitor according to his rank and fortune. Recourse is then again had to
astrologers to fix a fortunate day for the final ceremony, on the
evening of which the bridegroom’s best man proceeds to the house of the
lady and conducts her to her future home in a red sedan chair,
accompanied by musicians who enliven the procession by wedding airs. At
the door of the house the bride alights from her sedan, and is lifted
over a pan of burning charcoal laid on the threshold by two “women of
luck,” whose husbands and children must be living.
In the reception room the bridegroom awaits his bride on a raised dais,
at the foot of which she humbly prostrates herself. He then descends to
her level, and removing her veil gazes on her face for the first time.
Without exchanging a word they seat themselves side by side, and each
tries to sit on a part of the dress of the other, it being considered
that the one who succeeds in so doing will hold rule in the household.
This trial of skill over, the pair proceed to the hall, and there before
the family altar worship heaven and earth and their ancestors. They then
go to dinner in their apartment, through the open door of which the
guests scrutinize and make their remarks on the appearance and demeanor
of the bride. This ordeal is the more trying to her, since etiquette
forbids her to eat anything, a prohibition which is not shared by the
bridegroom, who enjoys the dainties provided as his appetite may
suggest. The attendants next hand to each in turn a cup of wine, and
having exchanged pledges, the wedding ceremonies come to an end. In some
parts of the country it is customary for the bride to sit up late into
the night answering riddles which are propounded to her by the guests;
in other parts it is usual for her to show herself for a time in the
hall, whither her husband does not accompany her, as it is contrary to
etiquette for a husband and wife ever to appear together in public. For
the same reason she goes to pay the customary visit to her parents on
the third day after the wedding alone, and for the rest of her wedded
life she enjoys the society of her husband only in the privacy of her
apartments.
[Illustration: DISCIPLINE ON THE MARCH, IN THE CHINESE ARMY.]
The lives of women in China, and especially of married women, are such
as to justify the wish often expressed by them that in their next state
of existence they may be born men. Even if in their baby days they
escape the infanticidal tendencies of their parents, they are regarded
as secondary considerations compared with their brothers. The
philosophers from Confucius downward have all agreed in assigning them
an inferior place to men. When the time comes for them to marry, custom
requires them in nine cases out of ten, as we have seen, to take a leap
in the dark, and that wife is fortunate who finds in her husband a
congenial and faithful companion.
There is but one proper wife in the family, but there is no law against
a man’s having secondary wives or concubines; and such connections are
common enough wherever the means of a family are sufficient for their
support. The concubine occupies in the family an inferior position to
the wife, and her children, if she has any, belong by law to the wife.
There are seven legal grounds for divorcing a wife: disobedience to her
husband’s parents; not giving birth to a son; Dissolute conduct;
jealousy; talkativeness; thieving, and leprosy. These grounds however
may be nullified by “the three considerations:” If her parents be dead;
if she has passed with her husband through the years of mourning for his
parents; and if he has become rich from being poor.
So many are the disabilities of married women, that many girls prefer
going into nunneries or even committing suicide to trusting their future
to men of whom they can know nothing but from the interested reports of
the go-between.
The re-marriage of widows is regarded as an impropriety, and in wealthy
families is seldom practiced. But among the poorer classes necessity
often compels a widow to seek another bread winner. Some, however,
having been unfortunate in their first matrimonial venture, refuse to
listen to any proposal for a re-marriage, and like the young girls
mentioned above seek escape by death from the importunities of relatives
who desire to get them off their hands. A reverse view of matrimonial
experiences is suggested by the practice of wives refusing to survive
their husbands, and putting a voluntary end to their existence rather
than live to mourn their loss. Such devotion is regarded by the people
with great approbation and a deed of suicide is generally performed in
public and with great punctiliousness.
The picture here given of married life in China has been necessarily
darkly shaded, since it is, as a rule, only in its unfortunate phases,
that it affords opportunity for remark. Without doubt there are many
hundreds of thousands of families in China which are entirely happy.
Happiness is after all a relative term, and Chinese women, knowing no
higher status, are as a rule content to run the risk of wrongs which
would be unendurable to an American woman, and to find happiness under
conditions which are fortunately unknown in western countries.
The family tie in China is strong and the people are clannish. They
seldom change their place of residence and most of them live where their
ancestors have lived for many generations. One will frequently find the
larger portion of a small village bearing the same name, in which case
the village often takes its name from the family. Books on filial piety
and the domestic relations recommend sons not to leave their parents
when married, but to live together lovingly and harmoniously as one
family. This theory is carried out in practice to some extent, in most
instances. In the division of property some regard is had to
primogeniture, but different sons share nearly equally. The eldest
simply has a somewhat larger portion and certain household relics and
valuables.
The position of woman is intermediate between that which she occupies in
Christian and in other non-Christian countries. The manner in which they
regard their lot may be inferred from the fact related on a previous
page, that the most earnest desire and prayer in worshipping in Buddhist
temples is, generally, that they may be men in the next state of
existence. In many families girls have no individual names, but are
simply called No. One, Two, Three, Four, etc. When married they are Mr.
So-and-so’s wife, and when they have sons they are such-and-such a boy’s
mother. They live in a great measure secluded, take no part in general
society, and are expected to retire when a stranger or an acquaintance
of the opposite sex enters the house. The claim of one’s parents and
brothers upon his affections is considered to be paramount to that of
his wife. A reason given for this doctrine in a celebrated Chinese work
is that the loss of a brother is irreparable but that of a wife is not.
Women are treated with more respect and consideration as they advance in
years; mothers are regarded with great affection and tenderness, and
grandmothers are sometimes almost worshipped. It must be further said
that the Chinese have found the theory of inferiority of women a very
difficult one to carry out in practice. There are many families in which
the superiority of her will and authority is sufficiently manifest, even
though not cheerfully acknowledged.
The rules and conventionalities which regulate social life are
exceedingly minute and formal. Politeness is a science, and gracefulness
of manners a study and discipline. The people are hospitable and
generous to a fault, their desire to appear well in these respects often
leading them to expenditures entirely disproportionate to their means.
When under the influence of passion, quarrels arise, the women resort to
abuse in violent language, extreme in proportion to the length of time
during which the feelings which prompted them have been restrained. Men
bluster and threaten in a manner quite frightful to those unaccustomed
to it, but seldom come to blows. In cases of deep resentment the injured
party often adopts a mode of revenge which is very characteristic.
Instead of killing the object of his hate, he kills himself on the
doorstep of his enemy, thereby casting obloquy and the stigma of murder
on the adversary.
In matters of dress, with one or two exceptions, the Chinese must be
acknowledged to have used a wise discretion. They wear nothing that is
tight fitting, and make a greater difference between their summer and
winter clothing than is customary among ourselves. The usual dress of a
coolie in summer is a loose fitting pair of cotton trousers and an
equally loose jacket; but the same man in winter will be seen wearing
quilted cotton clothes, or if he should be an inhabitant of the northern
provinces a sheepskin robe, superadded to an abundance of warm clothing
intermediate between it and his shirt. By the wealthier classes silk,
satin, and gauze are much worn in the summer, and woolen or handsome fur
clothes in the winter. Among such people it is customary except in the
seclusion of their homes, to wear both in summer and winter long tunics
coming down to the ankles.
In summer non-official Chinamen leave their heads uncovered, but do not
seem to suffer any inconvenience from the great heat. On the approach of
summer an edict is issued fixing the day upon which the summer costume
is to be adopted throughout the empire, and again as winter draws near,
the time for putting on winter dress is announced in the same formal
manner. Fine straw or bamboo forms the material of the summer hat, the
outside of which is covered with fine silk. At this season also the
thick silk robes and the heavy padded jackets worn in winter are
exchanged for light silk or satin tunics. The winter cap has a turned-up
brim and is covered with satin with a black cloth lining, and as in the
case of the summer cap a tassel of red silk covers the entire crown.
The wives of mandarins wear the same embroidered insignia on their
dresses as their husbands, and their style of dress as well as that of
Chinese women generally bears a resemblance to that of the men. They
wear a loose fitting tunic which reaches below the knee, and trousers
which are drawn in at the ankle after the bloomer fashion. On state
occasions they wear a richly embroidered petticoat coming down to the
feet, which hangs square both before and behind and is pleated at the
sides like a Highlander’s kilt. The mode of doing the hair varies in
almost every province. At Canton the women plaster their back hair into
the shape of a teapot handle, and adorn the sides with pins and
ornaments, while the young girls proclaim their unmarried state by
sutting their hair in fringe across their foreheads after a fashion not
unknown among ourselves. In most parts of the country, flowers, natural
when obtainable and artificial when not so, are largely used to deck out
the head dresses, and considerable taste is shown in the choice of
colors and the manner in which they are arranged.
[Illustration: A TYPHOON.]
Thus far there is nothing to find fault with in female fashions in
China, but the same cannot be said of the way in which they treat their
faces and feet. In many countries the secret art of removing traces of
the ravages of time with the appliances of the toilet table has been and
is practised; but by an extravagant and hideous use of pigments and
cosmetics, the Chinese girl not only conceals the fresh complexion of
youth, but produces those very disfigurements which furnish the only
possible excuse for artificial complexions. Their poets also have
declared that a woman’s eyebrows should be arched like a rainbow or
shaped like a willow leaf, and the consequence is that wishing to act up
to the idea thus pictured, China women with the aid of tweezers remove
all the hairs of their eyebrows which straggle the least out of the
required line, and when the task becomes impossible even with the help
of these instruments, the paint brush or a stick of charcoal is brought
into requisition. A comparison of one such painted lily with the natural
healthy complexion, bright eyes, laughing lips, and dimpled cheeks of a
Canton boat girl, for example, is enough to vindicate nature’s claim to
superiority over art a thousand fold.
[Illustration: BANDAGING THE FEET.]
But the chief offense of Chinese women is in their treatment of their
feet. Various explanations are current as to the origin of the custom of
deforming the women’s feet. Some say that it is an attempt to imitate
the peculiarly shaped foot of a certain beautiful empress; others that
it is a device intended to restrain the gadding-about tendencies of
women; but however that may be, the practice is universal except among
the Manchoos and the Hakka population at Canton, who have natural feet.
The feet are first bound when the child is about five years old and the
muscles of locomotion have consequently had time to develop. A cotton
bandage two or three inches wide is wound tightly about the foot in
different directions. The four smaller toes are bent under the foot, and
the instep is forced upward and backward. The foot therefore assumes the
shape of an acute triangle, the big toe forming the acute angle and the
other toes, being bent under the foot, becoming almost lost or absorbed.
At the same time, the shoes worn having high heels, the foot becomes
nothing but a club and loses all elasticity. The consequence is that the
women walk as on pegs, and the calf of the leg having no exercise
shrivels up. Though the effect of this custom is to produce real
deformity and a miserable tottering gait, even foreigners naturally come
to associate it with gentility and good breeding, and to estimate the
character and position of women much as the Chinese do, by the size of
their feet. The degree of severity with which the feet are bound differs
widely in the various ranks of society. Country women and the poorer
classes have feet about half the natural size, while those of the
genteel or fashionable class are only about three inches long.
Women in the humbler walks of life are therefore often able to move
about with ease. Most ladies on the other hand are practically debarred
from walking at all and are dependent on their sedan chairs for all
locomotion beyond they own doors. But even in this case habit becomes a
second nature and fashion triumphs over sense. No mother, however keen
may be her recollection of her sufferings as a child, or however
conscious she may be of the inconveniences and ills arising from her
deformed feet, would ever dream of saving her own child from like
immediate torture and permanent evil. Further there is probably less
excuse for such a practice in China than in any other country, for the
hands and feet of both men and women are naturally both small and finely
shaped. The Chinese insist upon it that the custom of compressing
women’s feet is neither in as bad taste nor so injurious to the health
as that of foreign women in compressing the waist.
The male analogue of the women’s compressed feet in the shaven forepart
of the head and the braided queue. The custom of thus treating the hair
was imposed on the people by the first emperor of the present dynasty,
in 1644. Up to that time the Chinese had allowed the hair to grow long,
and were in the habit of drawing it up into a tuft on the top of the
head. The introduction of the queue at the bidding of the Manchoorian
conqueror was intended as a badge of conquest, and as such was at first
unwillingly adopted by the people. For nearly a century the natives of
outlying parts of the empire refused to submit their heads to the razor
and in many districts the authorities rewarded converts to the new way
by presents of money. As the custom spread these bribes were
discontinued, and the converse action of treating those who refused to
conform with severity, completed the conversion of the empire. At the
present day every Chinaman who is not in open rebellion to the throne,
shaves his head with the exception of the crown where the hair is
allowed to grow to its full length. This hair is carefully braided, and
falls down the back forming what is commonly known as the “pig tail.”
Great pride is taken, especially in the south, in having as long and as
thick a queue as possible, and when nature has been niggardly in her
supply of natural growth, the deficiency is supplemented by the
insertion of silk in the plait.
The staff of life in China is rice. It is eaten and always eaten, from
north to south and from east to west, on the tables of the rich and
poor, morning, noon, and night, except among the very poor people in
some of the northern non-rice producing provinces where millet takes its
place. In all other parts the big bowl of boiled rice forms the staple
of the meal eaten by the people, and it is accompanied by vegetables,
fish and meat, according to the circumstances of the household. Among
many people, however, there is a disinclination to eat meat, owing to
the influence of Buddhism. The difference in the quality and expense of
the food of the rich from that of the poor, consists principally in the
concomitants eaten with the rice or millet. The poor have simply a dish
of salt vegetables or fish, which costs comparatively little. The rich
have pork, fowls, eggs, fish and game prepared in various ways.
Before each chair is placed an empty bowl and two chop-sticks, while in
the middle of the table stands the dishes of food. Each person fills his
basin from the large dishes, or is supplied by the servants, and holding
it up to his chin with his left hand he transfers its contents into his
mouth with his chop-sticks with the utmost ease. The chop-sticks are
held between the first and second, and the second and third fingers, and
constant practice enables a Chinaman to lift up and hold the minutest
atoms of food, oily and slippery as they often are, with the greatest
ease. To most foreigners their skillful use is well nigh impossible. To
the view of the Chinese the use of chop-sticks is an evidence of
superior culture; and the use of such barbarous instruments as knives
and forks, and cutting or tearing the meat from the bones on the table
instead of having the food properly prepared and severed into edible
morsels in the kitchen, evidences a lower type of civilization.
The meats most commonly eaten are pork, mutton, and goat’s flesh, beside
ducks, chickens, and pheasants, and in the north deer and hares. Beef is
never exposed for sale in the Chinese markets. The meat of the few
cattle which are killed is disposed of almost clandestinely. There is a
strong and almost universal prejudice against eating beef, and the
practice of doing so is declaimed against in some of the moral tracts.
Milk is hardly used at all in the eighteen provinces, and in many places
our practice of drinking it is regarded with the utmost disgust.
It must be confessed that in some parts of the country less savory
viands find their place on the dinner table. In Canton, for example,
dried rats have a recognized place in the poulterers’ shops and find a
ready market. Horse flesh is also exposed for sale, and there are even
to be found dog and cat restaurants. The flesh of black dogs and cats,
and especially the former is preferred as being more nutritive. Frogs
form a common dish among the poor people and are, it is needless to say,
very good eating. In some parts of the country locusts and grasshoppers
are eaten. At Tien-tsin men may commonly be seen standing at the corners
of the streets frying locusts over portable fires, just as among
ourselves chestnuts are cooked. Ground-grubs, silkworms and water-snakes
are also occasionally treated as food. The sea, lakes, and rivers abound
in fish, and as fish forms a staple food of the people the fisherman’s
art has been brought to a great degree of perfection. The same care as
in the production of fish is extended to that of ducks and poultry. Eggs
are artificially hatched in immense numbers, and the poultry markets and
boats along the river at Canton are most amazing in their extent.
[Illustration: THE SEAT OF THE WAR.]
The funerals of grown persons, and especially of parents, are as
remarkable for burdensome ceremonies, extravagant manifestations of
grief and lavish expense, as those of children are for their coldness
and neglect. Candles, incense and offerings of food are placed before
the corpse, and a company of priests is engaged to chant prayers for the
departed spirit. An abundance of clothing is deposited with the body in
the coffin and various ceremonies are performed during several days
immediately after that, and on every subsequent seventh day, closing
with the seventh seven. When the coffin is carried out for burial, men
and women follow in the procession clothed in coarse white garments,
white being used for mourning.
Inasmuch as the coffin must remain in the hall for forty-nine days,
naturally they are prepared with a great deal of care. Very thick planks
are used in its construction, cut from the hardest trees, caulked on the
outside and cemented on the inside, and finally varnished or lacquered.
Sometimes a coffin containing a body is kept in the house for a
considerable length of time after the forty-nine days have expired,
while arrangements are being made for a burying place and other
preliminaries are attended to. The lids being nailed down in cement they
are perfectly air-tight.
The notions which Chinamen entertain concerning the future life rob
death of half its terrors and lead them to regard their funeral
ceremonies and the due performance of the proper rites by their
descendants as the chief factors of their future well being. Among other
things the importance of securing a coffin according to the approved
fashion is duly recognized, and as men approach old age they not
infrequently buy their own coffins, which they keep carefully by them.
The present of a coffin is considered a dutiful attention from a son to
an aged father.
The choice of a site for the grave is determined by a professor of the
“Fung Shuy” superstition, who, compass in hand, explores the entire
district to find a spot which combines all the qualities necessary for
the quiet repose of the dead. When such a favored spot has been
discovered a priest is called in to determine a lucky day for the
burial. This is by no means an easy matter and it often happens that the
dead remain unburied for months or even years on account of the
difficulties in the way of choosing either fortunate graves or lucky
days. The ceremonies of the interment itself and of mourning that
follows are most elaborate in character, and too much involved for
detailed description here.
[Illustration: THE PUNISHMENTS OF HELL.—_From Chinese Drawings._]
But universal as the practice of burying may be said to be in China
there are exceptions to it. The Buddhist priests as a rule prefer
cremation, and this custom, which came with the religion they profess
from India, has at times found imitators among the laity. In Formosa the
dead are exposed and dried in the air; and some of the Meaou-tsze tribes
of central and southern China bury their dead, it is true, but after an
interval of a year or more, having chosen a lucky day, they disinter
them. On such occasions they go accompanied by their friends to the
grave, and having opened the tomb they take out the bones and having
brushed and washed them clean they put them back wrapped in cloth.
The necessity in the Chinese mind that their bones must rest in the soil
of their native land with their ancestors, has made to exist some
peculiar practices among the colonizing Chinese in the United States and
other countries. The bones of those who die thus far away from home are
carefully preserved by their countrymen and shipped back, sometimes
after many years, to find a resting place in the Middle Kingdom.
It is a curious circumstance that in China where there exists such a
profound veneration for everything old, there should not be found any
ancient buildings or old ruins. That there is an abundant supply of
durable materials for building is certain, and for many centuries the
Chinese have been acquainted with the art of brick making, yet they have
reared no building possessing enduring stability. Not only does the
ephemeral nature of the tent, which would indicate their original
nomadic origin and recollection of old tent homes, appear in the slender
construction of Chinese houses, but even in shape they assume a
tent-like form. Etiquette provides that in houses of the better class a
high wall shall surround the building, and that no window shall look
outward. Consequently streets in the fashionable parts of cities have a
dreary aspect. The only breaks in the long line of dismal wall are the
front doors, which are generally closed, or if not, movable screens bar
the sight of all beyond the door. Passing around one such screen one
finds himself in a court-yard which is laid out as a garden or paved
with stone. From this court-yard one reaches, on either side, rooms
occupied by servants, or directly in front, another building. Through
this latter another court-yard is reached, in the rooms surrounding
which the family live, and behind this again are the women’s apartments,
which not infrequently give exit to a garden at the back.
Wooden pillars support the roofs of the buildings, and the intervals
between these are filled up with brick work. The window-frames are
wooden, over which is pasted either paper or calico, or sometimes pieces
of talc to transmit the light. The doors are almost invariably folding
doors; the floors either stone or cement; and ceilings are not often
used, the roof being the only covering to the rooms. Carpets are seldom
used, more especially in southern China, where also stoves for warming
purposes are known. In the north, where in the winter the cold is very
great, portable charcoal stoves are employed and small chafing dishes
are carried about from room to room. Delicate little hand-stoves, which
gentlemen and ladies carry in their sleeves, are very much in vogue. In
the colder latitudes a raised platform or dais is built in the room, of
brick and stone, under which a fire is kindled with a chimney to carry
off the smoke. The whole substance of this dais becomes heated and
retains its warmth for several hours. This is the almost universal bed
of the north of China. But the main dependence of the Chinese for
personal warmth is on clothes. As the winter approaches garment is added
to garment and furs to quilted vestments, until the wearer assumes an
unwieldy and exaggerated shape. Well-to-do Chinamen seldom take strong
exercise, and they are therefore able to bear clothes which to a
European would be unendurable.
Of the personal comfort obtainable in a house, Chinamen are strangely
ignorant. Their furniture is of the hardest and most uncompromising
nature. Chairs made of a hard black wood, angular in shape, and equally
unyielding divans, are the only seats known to them. Their beds are
scarcely more comfortable, and their pillows are oblong cubes of bamboo
or other hard material. For the maintenance of the existing fashions of
female head dressing, this kind of pillow is essential to women at
least, as their hair, which is only dressed at intervals of days, and
which is kept in its shape by the abundant use of bandoline, would be
crushed and disfigured if lain upon for a moment. Women, therefore, who
make any pretension of following the fashion, are obliged to sleep at
night on their backs, resting the nape of the neck on the pillow and
thus keeping the head and hair free from contact with anything.
The ornaments in the houses of the well-to-do are frequently elaborate
and beautiful. Their wood carvings, cabinets, and ornamental pieces of
furniture, and the rare beauty of their bronzes and porcelain, are of
late years well known and much sought for in our own country. Tables are
nearly uniform in size, furnishing a seat for one person on each of the
four sides, and tables are multiplied sufficiently to accommodate
whatever number requires to be served. When guests are entertained, the
two sexes eat separately in different rooms, but in ordinary meals the
members of the family of both sexes sit down together with much less
formality.
The streets in the towns differ widely in construction in the northern
and southern portions of the empire. In the south they are narrow and
paved, in the north they are wide and unpaved, both constructions being
suited to the local wants of the people. The absence of wheel traffic in
the southern provinces makes wide streets unnecessary, while by
contracting their width the sun’s rays have less chance of beating down
on the heads of passers and it is possible to stretch awnings from roof
to roof. It is true that this is done at the expense of fresh air, but
even to do this is a gain. Shops are all open in front, the counters
forming the only barrier. The streets are crowded in the extreme, and
passage is necessarily slow.
This inconvenience is avoided in the wide streets of the cities of the
north, but these streets are so ill kept that in wet weather they are
mud and in dry they are covered inches deep in dust. Of the large cities
of the north and south Peking and Canton may be taken as typical
examples and certainly, with the exception of the palace, the walls, and
certain imperial temples, the streets of Peking compare very unfavorably
with those of Canton. The walls surrounding Peking are probably the
finest and best kept in the empire. In height they are about forty feet
and the same in width. The top, which is defended by massive
battlements, is well paved and is kept in excellent order. Over each
gate is built a fortified tower between eighty and ninety feet high.
[Illustration: CHINESE CART.]
The power of a Chinese father over his children is complete except that
it stops short with life. The practice of selling children is common,
and though the law makes it a punishable offense, should the sale be
effected against the will of the children, the prohibition is
practically ignored. In the same way a law exists making infanticide a
crime, but as a matter of fact it is never acted upon; and in some parts
of the country, more especially in the provinces of Chiang-hsi and
Fu-chien, this most unnatural offense prevails among the poorer classes
to an alarming extent. Not only do the people acknowledge the existence
of the practice, but they even go the length of defending it. It is only
however abject poverty which drives parents to this dreadful expedient,
and in the more prosperous and wealthy districts the crime is almost
unknown. Periodically the mandarins inveigh against the inhumanity of
the offense and appeal to the better instincts of the people to put a
stop to it; but a stone which stands near a pool outside the city of
Foochow bearing the inscription, “Girls may not be drowned here,”
testifies with terrible emphasis to the futility of their endeavors.
[Illustration: SCHOOL BOY.]
The large number of cast-a-way bodies of dead infants seen in many parts
of China is often regarded, though unjustly, as evidence of the
prevalence of this crime. In most instances, however, it really
indicates only the denial of burial to infants. This is due, at least in
many places, to the following superstition: When they die it is supposed
that their bodies have been inhabited by the spirit of a deceased
creditor of a previous state of existence. The child during its sickness
may be cared for with the greatest tenderness, but if it dies parental
love is turned to hate and resentment. It is regarded as an enemy and
intruder in the family who has been exacting satisfaction for the old
unpaid debt; and having occasioned a great deal of anxiety, trouble, and
expense, has left nothing to show for it but disappointment. The uncared
for and uncoffined little body is cast away anywhere; and as it is
carried out of the door the house is swept, crackers are fired, and
gongs beaten to frighten the spirit so that it may never dare enter the
house again. Thus do superstitions dry up the fountains of natural
affection.
The complete subjection of children to their parents is so firmly imbued
in the minds of every Chinese youth, that resistance to the infliction
of cruel and even unmerited punishment is seldom if ever offered, and
full-grown men submit meekly to be flogged without raising their hands.
The law steps in on every occasion in support of parental authority.
Filial piety is the leading principle in Chinese ethics.
[Illustration: CHINESE SCHOOL.]
School life begins at the age of six, and among the wealthier classes
great care is shown in the choice of master. The stars having indicated
a propitious day for beginning work, the boy presents himself at school,
bringing with him two small candles, some sticks of incense, and some
paper money, which are burnt at the shrine of Confucius, before which
also the little fellow prostrates himself three times. There being no
alphabet in Chinese the pupil has to plunge at once into the middle of
things and begins by learning to read. Having mastered two elementary
books, the next step is to the “Four Books.” Then follow the “Five
Classics,” the final desire of Chinese learning. A full comprehension of
these Four Books and Five Classics, together with the commentaries upon
them, and the power of turning this knowledge to account in the shape of
essays and poems, is all that is required at the highest examination in
the empire. This course of instruction has been exactly followed out in
every school in the empire for many centuries.
[Illustration: CHINESE ENGINEERS LAYING A MILITARY TELEGRAPH.]
The choice of a future calling, which is often so perplexing in our own
country, is simplified in China by the fact of there being but two
pursuits which a man of respectability and education can follow, namely
the mandarinate and trades. The liberal professions as we understand
them are unknown in China. The judicial system forbids the existence of
the legal profession except in the case of official secretaries attached
to the mandarins’ courts; and medicine is represented by charlatans who
prey on the follies of their fellowmen and dispense ground tiger’s
teeth, snake’s skins, etc., in lieu of drugs. A lad, or his parents for
him, has therefore practically to consider whether he should attempt to
compete at the general competitive examinations to qualify him for
office, or whether he should embark in one of the numerous mercantile
concerns which abound among the moneymaking and thrifty Chinese.
[Illustration: SCHOOL GIRL.]
The succession of examinations leading up to the various honorary
degrees and official positions, are complicated and exacting. The
successful candidates have great honor attached to them, and are the
prominent and successful people of the empire. These examinations are
open to every man in the empire of whatever grade, unless he belong to
one of the following four classes, or be the descendant of one such
within three generations; actors, prostitutes, jailers, and executioners
and servants of mandarins. The theory with regard to these people is
that actors and prostitutes being devoid of all shame, and executioners
and jailers having become hardened by the cruel nature of their offices,
are unfit in their own persons or as represented by their sons to win
posts of honor by means of the examinations.
The military examinations are held separately, and though the literary
calibre of the candidates is treated much in the same way as at the
civil examinations, the same high standard of knowledge is not required;
but in addition skill in archery and in the use of warlike weapons is
essential. It is illustrative of the backwardness of the Chinese in
warlike methods, that though they have been acquainted with the use of
gunpowder for some centuries, they revert in the examination of military
candidates to the weapons of the ancients, and that while theoretically
they are great strategists, strength and skill in the use of these
weapons are the only tests required for commissions.
[Illustration: CHINESE ARTIST.]
Persons of almost every class and in almost every station of life make
an effort to send their boys to school, with the hope that they may
distinguish themselves, be advanced to high positions in the state, and
reflect honor upon their families. Of those who compete for literary
honors a very small proportion are successful in attaining even the
first degree, though some strive for it for a lifetime. These
unsuccessful candidates and the graduates of the first and second
degrees, form the important class of literary men scattered throughout
the empire. The large proportion of this class are comparatively poor,
and their services may be obtained for a very small remuneration. They
are employed to teach the village schools. Rich families in different
neighborhoods often assist in keeping up the school for the credit of
the village, and opportunities for obtaining an education are thus
brought within the reach of all. Graduates of the first and second
degrees, generally have the charge of more advanced pupils, and many are
engaged as tutors in private families, commanding higher wages. They are
also employed as scribes or copyists, and to write letters, family
histories, genealogies, etc. In the larger cities schools are
established by the government, and in many places free schools are
supported by wealthy men, but these institutions do not seem to be
popular and are not flourishing.
[Illustration: CHINESE BARBER.]
Though trade practically holds its place as next in estimation to the
mandarinate, in theory it should follow both the careers of husbandry
and of the mechanical arts. All land is held in free-hold from the
government, and principally by clans or families, who pay an annual tax
to the crown, amounting to about one-tenth of the produce. As long as
this tax is paid regularly the owners are never dispossessed, and
properties thus remain in the hands of clans and families for many
generations. In order that farming operations shall be properly
conducted, there are established in almost every district agricultural
boards, consisting of old men learned in husbandry. By these veterans a
careful watch is kept over the work done by the neighboring farmers, and
in the case of any dereliction of duty or neglect of the prescribed
modes of farming, the offender is summoned before the district
magistrate, who inflicts the punishment which he considers proportionate
to the offense. The appliances of the Chinese for irrigating the fields
and winnowing the grain are excellent, but those for getting the largest
crops out of the land are of a rude and primitive kind.
Among their artisans the Chinese number carpenters, masons, tailors,
shoemakers, workers in iron and brass, and silversmiths and goldsmiths,
who can imitate almost any article of foreign manufacture; also workmen
in bamboo, carvers, idol makers, needle manufacturers, barbers,
hair-dressers, etc. Business men sell almost every kind of goods and
commodities wholesale and retail. Large fortunes are amassed very much
in the same way and by the same means as are now in our own country. The
wealth of the rich is invested in lands or houses, or employed as
capital in trade or banking, or is lent out on good security, and often
at a high rate of interest.
[Illustration: FEMALE TYPES AND COSTUMES.]
Traveling in China is slow and leisurely, and the modes of it vary
greatly in different parts of the empire. In many of the provinces,
especially along the coast and in the south, canals take the place, for
the most part, of roads. In the vicinity of Ningpo the country is
supplied with a complete network of them, often intersecting each other
at distances of one or two miles or less. Farmers frequently have short
branch canals running off to their houses, and the farm boat takes the
place of the farm wagon. Heavy loaded passage or freight boats ply in
every direction. The ordinary charge for passage is less than one-half a
cent per mile. The boats are admirably adapted to the people and
circumstances, being built for comfort, rather than for speed. These
water courses then, with the rivers which are so numerous, furnish the
most general way of traveling throughout the empire.
In the north, where the country is level and open, the existence of
broad roads enables the people to use rude carts for the conveyance of
passengers and freight. Mules are used for riding purposes, and
palanquins borne by two horses, or sedan chairs carried by two coolies,
are popular ways of traveling. The sea-going junks are very much larger
than the river craft, and different in construction. The best ones are
divided into water tight compartments and are capable of carrying
several thousand tons of cargo. They are generally three-masted and
carry huge sails made of matting.
[Illustration: PORTER'S CHAIR.]
Although the Chinese have the compass, they are without the knowledge
necessary for taking nautical observations, so they either hug the land
or steer straight by their compass until they reach some coast with
which they are familiar. In these circumstances it is easy to understand
why the loss of junks and lives on the Chinese coast every year is so
great. The immense number of people who live in boats on the rivers in
southern China, render the terrible typhoons which sweep the sea and
land especially destructive. For the most part these boat-people are not
of Chinese origin but are remnants of the aborigines of the country.
That the race has ever survived is a constant wonder, seeing the hourly
and almost momentary danger of drowning in which the children live on
board their boats. The only precaution that is ever taken, even in the
case of infants, is to tie an empty gourd between their shoulders, so
that should they fall into the water they may be kept afloat until help
comes. They are born in their boats, they marry in their boats, and die
in their boats.
The Chinese calendar and the festivities that accompany different
seasons and anniversaries, are peculiarly interesting and different from
our own, but space forbids any detailed account of them. The four
seasons correspond to ours, and in addition to the four seasons the year
is divided into eight parts called “joints,” or divisions, and these are
again subdivided into sixteen more called “breaths,” or sources of life.
There are forty festivals of China which are celebrated with observances
generally throughout the empire and are considered to be important. They
do not occur at regular intervals, and there is no periodical day of
rest and recreation corresponding at all to our Sunday. The festivities
of the new year exceed all others in their prominence and continuance,
and in the universality and enthusiasm with which they are observed.
“The Feast of Lanterns” and “The Festival of the Tombs” are two of the
most interesting of Chinese festivals. The ninth day of the ninth month
is a great time for flying kites. On that day thousands of men enjoy the
sport and immense kites of all grotesque shapes fill the air. Theaters
are very common in China, but the character and associations of the
stage are very different from those of western lands and are very much
less respected. Actors are regarded as an inferior class. Females do not
appear upon the stage, but men act the part of female characters.
Gambling is very common in China and is practiced in a variety of ways.
Its ill effects are acknowledged, and there are laws prohibiting it, but
they are a dead letter. There are many kinds of stringed and reed
instruments used by the musicians of China. Bells, also, are very
numerous, and excellent sweet toned bells are made. A careful watch is
kept over the efforts of composers by the imperial board of music, whose
duty it is to keep alive the music of the ancients and to suppress all
compositions which are not in harmony with it. It is difficult for
western ears to find anything truly beautiful in Chinese music.
The medical art of China is not of a sort to win much admiration from
us. The Chinese know nothing of physiology or anatomy. The functions of
the heart, lungs, liver, kidneys, and brain are sealed books to them and
they recognize no distinction between veins and arteries and between
nerves and tendons. Their deeply rooted repugnance to the use of a knife
in surgery or to post-mortem examinations prevents the possibility of
their acquiring any accurate knowledge of the position of the various
organs. They consider that from the heart and pit of the stomach all
ideas and delights proceed, and that the gall bladder is the seat of
courage. Man’s body is believed to be composed of the five elements,
fire, water, metal, wood, earth. The medical profession in China is an
open one, for there are no medical colleges and no examination tests to
worry the minds of would-be practitioners. Some doctors have
prescriptions as valuable and of the same sort as those prepared from
herbs and vegetables by many an old woman in our own country
settlements. On the other hand, some of the most ridiculous remedies are
given, such as tiger’s teeth, gold and silver leaf, and shavings of
rhinoceros horns, or ivory. Fortunately for the people inflammatory
diseases are almost unknown in China, but small-pox, consumption, and
dysentery rage almost unchecked by medical help; skin diseases are very
prevalent, and cancer is by no means uncommon. Of late the practice of
vaccination has begun to make its way among the people.
There are hosts of superstitions among the Chinese people, and their
beliefs regarding spirits and the influence of the dead, of sorcerers,
and of devils, are myriad. These superstitions pervade every rank of
society, from the highest to the lowest. The general term applied to the
whole system of superstition and luck is fung-shwuy, and the
practitioners and learned men in this science are called upon to
determine what action shall be taken in all sorts of circumstances.
There are benevolent societies in China corresponding in variety and
almost in number to those of Christian lands. There are orphan asylums,
institutions for the relief of widows, and for the aged and infirm,
public hospitals and free schools, together with other kindred
institutions more peculiarly Chinese in their character. In some parts
of China schools for girls exist, taught by female teachers. In most
places, however females are seldom taught letters, and schools for their
benefit are not known. Foreigners in establishing them invariably give a
small sum of money or some rice for each day’s attendance, and it is
thought that these schools could not be kept together in any other way.
The Chinese describe themselves as possessing three religions, or more
accurately three sects, namely, Joo keaou, the sect of scholars; Fuh
keaou, the sect of Buddha; and Tao keaou, the sect of Tao. Both as
regards age and origin, the sect of scholars, or as it is generally
called, Confucianism, represents pre-eminently the religion of China. It
has its root in the worship of Shang-te, a deity associated with the
earliest traditions of the Chinese race. This deity was a personal god,
who ruled the affairs of men, rewarding and punishing as appeared just.
But during the troublous times which followed the first sovereigns of
the Chow dynasty, the belief in a personal deity grew dim, until when
Confucius began his career there appeared nothing strange in his
atheistic teachings. His concern was with man as a member of society,
and the object of his teaching was to lead him into those paths of
rectitude which might best contribute to the happiness of the man, and
to the well-being of the community of which he formed a part. Man, he
held, was born good and was endowed with qualities, which when
cultivated and improved by watchfulness and self-restraint, might enable
him to acquire godlike wisdom. In the system of Confucius there is no
place for a personal god. Man has his destiny in his own hands to make
or mar. Neither had Confucius any inducement to offer to encourage men
in the practice of virtue, except virtue itself. He was a
matter-of-fact, unimaginative man, who was quite content to occupy
himself with the study of his fellow men, and was disinclined to grope
into the future. Succeeding ages, recognizing the loftiness of his aims,
eliminated all that was impracticable and unreal in his system, and held
fast to that part of it that was true and good. They clung to the
doctrines of filial piety, brotherly love, and virtuous living. It was
admiration for the emphasis which he laid on these and other virtues,
which has drawn so many millions of men unto him and has adorned every
city of the empire with temples built in his honor.
[Illustration: CHINESE EMPEROR, KING OF COREA, AND CHINESE OFFICIALS.]
Side by side with the revival of the Joo keaou, under the influence of
Confucius, grew up a system of a totally different nature, which when
divested of its esoteric doctrines and reduced by the practically minded
Chinamen to a code of morals, was destined in future ages to become
affiliated with the teachings of the sage. This was Taoism, which was
founded by Lao-tzu, who was a contemporary of Confucius. The object of
his teaching was to induce men, by the practice of self-abnegation, to
reach absorption in something which he called Tao, and which bears a
certain resemblance to the Nirvana of the Buddhists. The primary meaning
of Tao is “the way,” “the path,” but in Lao-tzu philosophy it was more
than the way, it was the way-goer as well. It was an eternal road; along
it all beings and things walked; it was everything and nothing, and the
cause and effect of all. All things originated from Tao, conformed to
Tao, and to Tao at last returned. It was absorption into this “mother of
all things” that Lao-tzu aimed at. But these subtilties, to the common
people were foolishness, and before long the philosophical doctrine of
the identity of existence and non-existence assumed in their eyes a
warrant for the old Epicurean motto, “Let us eat and drink, for
to-morrow we die.” The pleasures of sense were substituted for the
delights of virtue, and to prolong life the votaries began a search for
elixirs of immortality, and charms. Taoism quickly degenerated into a
system of magic. To-day the monopoly which Taoist priests enjoy as the
exponents of the mysteries of nature, inherited from the time when they
sought for natural charms, makes them indispensably necessary to all
classes, and the most confirmed Confucianist does not hesitate to
consult the shaven followers of Lao-tzu on the choice of the site for
his house, the position of his family graveyard, or a fortunate day for
undertaking an enterprise. Apart from the practice of these magical
arts, Taoism has become assimilated with modern Confucianism and is
scarcely distinguishable from it.
The teachings of Lao-tzu bore a sufficient resemblance to the musings of
Indian sages, that they served to prepare the way for the introduction
of Buddhism. A deputation of Buddhists arrived in China in the year 216
B.C., but were harshly treated, and returned to their homes without
leaving any impress of their religion. It was not until some sixty years
after Christ, in the reign of the Emperor Ming Ti, that Buddhism was
actually introduced. One night the emperor dreamed that a monster golden
image appeared and said, “Buddha bids you to send to the western
countries to search for him and to get books and images.” The emperor
obeyed, and sent an embassy to India which returned after an absence of
eleven years bringing back images, the sacred writings, and missionaries
who could translate these scriptures into Chinese. Thus was introduced
into China the knowledge of that system which in purity and loftiness of
aim takes its place next to Christianity among the religions of the
world. From this time Buddhism grew and prevailed in the land.
[Illustration: BUDDHIST TEMPLE.]
The Buddhism of China is not, however, exactly that of India. The
Chinese believe in a material paradise, which is obviously inconsistent
with the orthodox belief in Nirvana. Like the other faiths of China,
orthodox Buddhism could not entirely satisfy the people. Like the Jews
of old they were eager after signs, and self interest made their
spiritual rulers nothing loth to grant them their desire. From the
mountains and monasteries came men who claimed to possess the elixir of
immortality, and proclaimed themselves adepts in witchcraft and sorcery.
By magic incantations they exorcised evil spirits, and dissipated
famine, pestilence, and disease. By the exercise of their supernatural
powers they rescued souls from hell, and arrested pain and death. In the
services of the church they added ritual to ritual. By such means they
won their way among the people, and even sternly orthodox Confucianists
make use of their services to chant the liturgies of the dead. But while
superstition compels even the wise and the learned to pay homage to this
faith, there is scarcely an educated man who would not repudiate a
suggestion that he is a follower of Buddha; and though the common people
throng the temples to buy charms and consult astrologers, they yet
despise both the priests and the religion they profess. But Buddhism has
after all been a blessing rather than a curse in China. It has to a
certain extent lifted the mind of the people from the too exclusive
consideration of mundane affairs, to the contemplation of a future
state. It has taught them to value purity of life more highly; to
exercise self-constraint and to forget self; and to practise charity
towards their neighbors.
It will be seen that no clearly defined line of demarcation separates
the three great sects of China. Each in its turn has borrowed from the
others, until at the present day it may be doubted whether there are to
be found any pure Confucianists, pure Buddhists, or pure Taoists.
Confucianism has provided the moral basis on which the national
character of the Chinese rests, and Buddhism and Taoism have supplied
the supernatural element wanting in that system. Speaking generally
then, the religion of China is a medley of the three great sects which
are now so closely interlaced that it is impossible either to classify
or enumerate the members of each creed. The only other religion of
importance in China is Mohammedanism, which is confined to the
south-western and north-western provinces of the empire. In this faith
also the process of absorption in a national mixture of beliefs is
making headway. And since the suppression of the Panthay rebellion in
Yun-nan, there has been a gradual decline in the number of the followers
of the prophet.
The speech and the written composition of the Chinese differ more than
those of any other people. The former addresses itself, like all other
languages, to the mind through the ear; the latter speaks to the mind
through the eye, not as words but as symbols of ideas. All Chinese
literature might be understood and translated though the student of it
could not name a single character. The colloquial speech is not
difficult of acquisition, but the written composition is slow of
learning by foreigners. “Pidgin English” is a mixed Chinese, Portuguese
and English language, which is a creation of the necessities of
communication between Chinese and foreigners at the open ports, while
neither party had the time or means or wish to acquire an accurate
knowledge of the language of the other. “Pidgin” is a Chinese attempt to
pronounce our word business, and the materials of the lingo are nearly
all English words similarly represented or misrepresented. The idiom on
the other hand is entirely that of colloquial Chinese. Foreigners master
it in a short time so as to carry on long conversations by means of it,
and to transact important affairs of business. This jargon is passing
away. Chinese who know English and English who know Chinese are
increasing in number from year to year.
In the first two chapters, containing a sketch of Chinese history,
mention has been made of the greater literary works produced in the
early centuries of the empire; and the calamity of the burning of the
books has been described. Of the famous classics which are yet cherished
we will not speak again here. After the revival of literature, and the
encouragement given to it by the successors of the emperor who destroyed
the libraries of the empire, the tide has flowed onward in an
ever-increasing volume, checked only at times by one of those signal
calamities often overtaking the imperial libraries of China. It is
noteworthy that however ruthlessly the libraries and intellectual
centers have been destroyed, one of the first acts of the successful
founders of succeeding dynasties has been to restore them to their
former completeness and efficiency.
The Chinese divide their literature into four departments, classical,
philosophical, historical and belles lettres. The “nine classics,” of
which we have already spoken as being the books studied by every Chinese
student, form but the nucleus of the immense mass of literature which
has gathered around them. The historical literature of China is the most
important branch of the national literature. There are works which
record the purely political events of each reign, as well as those on
chronology, rites and music, jurisprudence, political economy, state
sacrifices, astronomy, geography, and records of the neighboring
countries. On drawing, painting, and medicine much has been written.
Poems, novels, and romances, dramas, and books written in the colloquial
style, are frequent in the Chinese literature. There is no more pleasant
reading than some of their historical romances, and some of the best
novels have been translated into European languages. There is, however,
considerable poverty of imagination, little analysis of character, and
no interweaving of plot in the fiction.
[Illustration: TEMPLE OF FIVE HUNDRED GODS, AT CANTON.]
The glance that we have taken at the habits and customs of life among
the Chinese people, shows that while they lack many of the things that
we have been taught to believe essential to civilization, they
nevertheless are equipped with many good things. They have the same
human instincts, and are ready and able to absorb learning with great
rapidity, when once they become convinced of the value of it. It is
their conservatism and their belief that they are the only truly
civilized people in the world, while all others are barbarians, that has
made them so slow to adopt any of the better things of western
civilization. The war which this work records may prove to be the most
effective means that could possibly have been devised to awaken China
from the sleep of centuries, and convince her of the value and efficacy
of western methods. If this prove true, a description of China written a
generation in the future may have to describe the things here related as
existing conditions, to be historical facts after twenty years.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
_JAPAN_
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: JAPANESE MUSICIAN.]
[Illustration: THE MIKADO AND HIS PRINCIPAL OFFICERS.]
HISTORICAL SKETCH OF JAPAN FROM THE EARLIEST
TIMES TO FIRST CONTACT WITH
EUROPEAN CIVILIZATION.
--------------
The Oldest Dynasty in the World and its Records—The First Emperor of
Japan—Some of the Famous Early Rulers—Invasion and Conquest of Corea by
the Empress Jingo—How Civilization Came from Corea to Japan—The Rise of
the Dual System of Government—Mikado and Shogun—Expulsion of the Hojo
Dynasty of Shoguns—The Invasion of the Mongol Tartars—Annihilation of
the Armada—Corruption of the Shogun Rule—Growth of the Feudal
System—Another Conquest of Corea—Founding of the Last Dynasty of
Shoguns—Advance of Japan in the Age of Hideyoshi.
In a historical sketch of the life of a nation which counts twenty-five
centuries of recorded history, but the briefest outline can be given.
The scope of such a work as this does not admit of minute historical
details. When it is said that traditions exist carrying back the history
for a number of years which requires several hundred ciphers to measure,
the effort to relate even an outline becomes almost appalling. Until the
twelfth century of our era, Europe did not know even of the existence of
Japan; and the reports which were then brought by Marco Polo, who had
learned of the island empire of Zipangu from the Chinese were as vague
as they were enticing. The successes of the Jesuit missionaries led by
Xavier, and the commercial intercourse established by the Portuguese in
the latter part of the 16th century, and by the Dutch somewhat later,
promised to disclose the mysteries of the far Pacific empire; but within
a few generations these were more hopelessly than ever sealed against
foreign intrusion. Only forty years ago the United States of America
knocked at the door of Japan, met a welcome under protest, and the
country began to open to western civilization. Even yet the great mass
of the people of our own country have far from a right conception of the
ancient civilization which has for ages prevailed in these islands of
the Pacific.
The Japanese imperial dynasty is the oldest in the world. Two thousand
five hundred and fifty-four years ago in 660 B.C., the sacred histories
relate that Jimmu Tenno commenced to reign as the first Mikado, or
Emperor of Japan. The sources of Japanese history are rich and solid,
historical writings forming the largest and most important divisions of
their voluminous literature. The period from about the ninth century
until the present time is treated very fully, while the real history of
the period prior to the eighth century of the Christian era is very
meagre. It is nearly certain that the Japanese possessed no writing
until the sixth century A.D. Their oldest extant composition is the
“Kojiki,” or “Book of Ancient Traditions.” It may be called the Bible of
the Japanese. It comprises three volumes, composed A.D. 711-712, and is
said to have been preceded by two similar works about one hundred years
earlier, but neither of these have been preserved. The first volume
treats of the creation of the heavens and earth, the gods and goddesses,
and the events of the holy age or mythological period. The second and
third give the history of the mikados from the year I (660 B.C.) to the
year 1280 of the Japanese era. It was first printed in the years A.D.
1624-1642. The “Nihongi” completed A.D. 720 also contains a Japanese
record of the mythological period, and brings down the annals of the
mikados to A.D. 699. These are the oldest books in the language. They
contain so much that is fabulous, mythical or exaggerated, that their
statements especially in respect of dates cannot be accepted as true
history. A succession of historical works of apparent reliability
illustrate the period between the eighth and the eleventh centuries, and
still better ones treat of the mediæval period from the eleventh to the
sixteenth century. The period from 1600 to 1853 is less known than
others in earlier times, because of mandates that existed forbidding the
production of contemporary histories.
[Illustration: JAPANESE GOD OF THUNDER.]
Whatever may be the actual fact, Jimmu Tenno is popularly believed to
have been a real person and the first emperor of Japan. He is deified in
the Shinto religion, and in thousands of shrines dedicated to him the
people worship his spirit. In one official list of mikados he is named
as the first. The reigning Emperor refers to him as his ancestor, from
whom he claims unbroken descent as the 123rd member of this dynasty. The
seventh day of April is fixed as the anniversary of his ascension to the
throne and that day is a national holiday on which the birth, the
accession and death of this national hero are still annually celebrated.
Then one may see flags flying from both public and private buildings,
and hear the reverberations of a royal salute fired by the ironclad navy
of modern Japan from Krupp guns, and by the military in French uniforms
from Remington rifles. The era of Jimmu is the starting point of
Japanese chronology, and the year 1 of the Japanese era is that upon
which he ascended the throne at Kashiwavara.
In the beginning there existed, according to one interpretation of the
somewhat perplexing Shinto mythology, chaos, which contained the germs
of all things. From this was evolved a race of heavenly beings and
celestial “Kami” of whom Izanagi, a male, and Izanami, a female, were
the last individuals. Other authorities on Shinto maintain that infinite
space and not chaos existed in the beginning; others again that in the
beginning there was one god. However, all agree as to the appearance on
the scene of Izanagi and Izanami, and it is with these we are here
concerned; for by their union were produced the islands of Japan, and
among their children were Amaterasu, the sun goddess, and her younger
brother, Susanoo, afterward appointed god of the sea. On account of her
bright beauty the former was made queen of the sun, and had given to her
a share on the government of the earth. To Ninigi-no-mikoto, her
grandson, she afterward consigned absolute rule over the earth, sending
him down by the floating bridge of heaven upon the summit of the
mountain Kirishima-yama. He took with him the three Japanese regalia,
the sacred mirror, now in one of the Shinto shrines of Ise; the sword,
now treasured in the temple of Atsuta, near Nagoya; and the ball of rock
crystal in possession of the emperor. On the accomplishment of the
descent, the sun and the earth receded from one another, and
communication by means of the floating bridge ceased. Jimmu Tenno, the
first historic emperor of Japan, was the great grandson of
Ninigi-no-mikoto.
[Illustration: JAPANESE GOD OF RIDING.]
According to the indigenous religion of Japan, therefore, a religion
which even since the adoption of western civilization has been
patronized by the state, the mikados are directly descended from the sun
goddess, the principal Shinto divinity. Having received from her the
three sacred treasures, they are invested with authority to rule over
Japan as long as the sun and moon shall endure. Their minds are in
perfect harmony with hers; therefore they cannot err and must receive
implicit obedience. Such is the traditional theory as to the position of
the Japanese emperors, a theory which was advanced in its most elaborate
form, as recently as the last century, by Motoori, a writer on Shinto,
which of late years has no doubt been much modified or even utterly
discarded by many of the more enlightened among the people. Even yet,
however, it is far from having been abandoned by the masses.
[Illustration: JAPANESE PEASANTRY.]
The mikados being thus regarded as semi-divinities, it is not surprising
that the very excess of veneration showed them tended more and more to
weaken their actual power. They were too sacred to be brought much into
contact with ordinary mortals, too sacred even to have their divine
countenances looked upon by any but a select few. Latterly it was only
the nobles immediately around him that ever saw the mikado’s face;
others might be admitted to the imperial presence, but it was only to
get a glimpse from behind a curtain of a portion of the imperial form,
less or more according to their rank. When the mikado went out into the
grounds of his palace in Kioto, matting was spread for him to walk upon;
when he left the palace precincts he was borne in a sedan chair, the
blinds of which were carefully drawn down. The populace prostrated
themselves as the procession passed, but none of them ever saw the
imperial form. In short, the mikados ultimately became virtual
prisoners. Theoretically gifted with all political knowledge and power,
they were less the masters of their own actions than many of the
humblest of their subjects. Although nominally the repositories of all
authority, they had practically no share in the management of the
national affairs. The isolation in which it was deemed proper that they
should be kept, prevented them from acquiring the knowledge requisite
for governing, and even had that knowledge been obtained, gave no
opportunity for its manifestation.
From the death of Jimmu Tenno to that of Kimmei, in whose reign Buddhism
was introduced, A.D. 571, there were thirty mikados. During this period
of one thousand three hundred and thirty-six years, believed to be
historic by most Japanese, the most interesting subjects are the reforms
of Sujin Tenno, the military expeditions to eastern Japan by
Yamato-Dake, the invasion of Corea by the Empress Jingo Kogo, and the
introduction of Chinese civilization and Buddhism.
Sujin—or Shujin, B.C. 97-30, was a man of intense earnestness and piety.
His prayers to the gods for the abatement of a plague were answered, and
a revival of religious feeling and worship ensued. He introduced many
forms in the practices of religion and the manners of life. He appointed
his own daughter priestess of the shrine and custodian of the symbols of
the three holy regalia, which had hitherto been kept in the palace of
the mikado. This custom has continued to the present time, and the
shrines of Uji in Ise, which now hold the sacred mirror, are always in
charge of a virgin princess of imperial blood.
The whole life of Sujin was one long effort to civilize his half savage
subjects. He regulated taxes, established a periodical census, and
encouraged the building of boats. He may also be called the father of
Japanese agriculture, since he encouraged it by edict and example,
ordering canals to be dug, water courses provided, and irrigation to be
extensively carried on.
The energies of this pious mikado were further exerted in devising a
national military system whereby his peaceably disposed subjects could
be protected, and the extremities of his realm extended. The eastern and
northern frontiers were exposed to the assaults of the wild tribes of
Ainos, who were yet unsubdued. Between the peaceful agricultural
inhabitants and the untamed savages a continual border war existed. A
military division of the empire into four departments was made, and a
shogun or general appointed over each. The half subdued inhabitants in
the extremes of the realm needed constant watching, and seem to have
been as restless and treacherous as the indians on our own frontiers.
The whole history of the extension and development of the mikado’s
empire is one of war and blood, rivalling that of our own country in its
early struggles with the Indians. This constant military action and life
in a camp resulted, in the course of time, in the creation of a powerful
and numerous military class, who made war professional and hereditary.
It developed that military genius and character which so distinguish the
modern Japanese and mark them in such strong contrast with other nations
of eastern Asia.
Towards the end of the first century A.D., Yamato-Dake, son of the
emperor Keiko, reduced most of the Ainos of the north to submission.
These savages fought much after the manner of the North American Indian,
using their knowledge of woodcraft most effectually, but the young
prince with a well equipped army embarked on a fleet of ships and
reaching their portion of the island, fought them until they were glad
to surrender.
[Illustration: JAPANESE GOD OF WAR.]
It was in the third century that the Empress Jingo invaded and conquered
Corea. In all Japanese tradition or history, there is no greater female
character than this empress. She was equally renowned for her beauty,
piety, intelligence, energy and martial valor. To this woman belongs the
glory of the conquest of Corea, whence came letters, religion and
civilization to Japan. Tradition is that it was directly commanded her
by the gods to cross the water and attack Corea. Her husband, the
emperor, doubting the veracity of this message from the gods, was
forbidden by them any share in the enterprise.
Jingo ordered her generals and captains to collect troops, build ships,
and be ready to embark. She disguised herself as a man, proceeded with
the recruiting of soldiers and the building of ships, and in the year
201 A.D. was ready to start. Before starting, Jingo issued these orders
for her soldiers: “No loot. Neither despise a few enemies nor fear many.
Give mercy to those who yield but no quarter to the stubborn. Rewards
shall be apportioned to the victors, punishments shall be meted to the
deserters.”
It was not very clear in the minds of these ancient filibusters where
Corea was, or for what particular point of their horizon they were to
steer. They had no chart or compass. The sun, stars and the flight of
birds were their guide. None of them before had ever known of the
existence of such a country as Corea, but the same gods that had
commanded the invasion protected the invaders, and in due time they
landed in southern Corea. The king of this part of the country had heard
from his messengers of the coming of a strange fleet from the east, and
terrified exclaimed, “We never knew there was any country outside of us.
Have our gods forsaken us?”
It was a bloodless invasion, for there was no fighting to do. The
Coreans came holding white flags and surrendered, offering to give up
their treasures. They took an oath to become hostages and be tributary
to Japan. Eighty ships well laden with gold and silver, articles of
wealth, silks and precious goods of all kinds, and eighty hostages, men
of high families, were given to the conquerors. The stay of the Japanese
army in Corea was very brief, and the troops returned in two months.
Jingo was, on her arrival, delivered of a son, who in the popular
estimation of gods and mortals holds even a higher place of honor than
his mother, who is believed to have conquered southern Corea through the
power of her yet unborn illustrious offspring. The motive which induced
the invasion into Corea seems to have been mere love of war and
conquest, and the Japanese still refer with great pride to this, their
initial exploit on foreign soil.
[Illustration: TOKIO—TYPES AND COSTUMES.]
[Illustration: JAPANESE MUSICIAN.]
[Illustration: JAPANESE SILK SPINNER.]
The son Ojin, who became the emperor, was, after his death, deified and
worshipped as the god of war, Hachiman, and down through the centuries
he has been worshiped by all classes of people, especially by soldiers,
who offer their prayers and pay their vows to him. Ojin was also a man
of literary tastes, and it was during his reign that Japan began to
profit from the learning of the Coreans, who introduced the study of the
Chinese language, and indeed the art of writing itself. During the
immediately succeeding centuries various emperors and empresses were
eminent for their zeal in encouraging the arts of peace. Architects,
painters, physicians, musicians, dancers, chronologists, artisans and
fortune tellers were brought over from Corea to instruct the people, but
not all of these came at once. Immigration was gradual, but the coming
of so many immigrants brought new blood, ideas, methods and
improvements. Japan received from China, through Corea, what she has
been receiving from America and Europe for the last forty years—a new
civilization. The records report the arrival of tailors in 283 and
horses in 284 from Corea to Japan. In 285 a Corean scholar came to
Japan, and residing at the court, instructed the mikado’s son in
writing. In 462 mulberry trees were planted, together with the silk
worm, for whose sustenance they were implanted, from China or Corea. And
this marks the beginning of silk culture in Japan. When in 552 the
company of doctors, astronomers and mathematicians came from Corea to
live at the Japanese court, they brought with them Buddhist
missionaries, and this may be called the introduction of continental
civilization. Beginning with Jingo, there seems to have poured into the
island empire a stream of immigrants, skilled artisans, scholars and
teachers, bringing arts, literature and religion. This was the first of
three great waves of foreign civilization in Japan. The first was from
China, through Corea, in the sixth; the second from western Europe in
the fifteenth century; the third was from America, Europe and the world,
in the decade following the advent of Commodore Perry.
In the eighth century, during the greater part of which the capital of
the country was the city of Nara, about thirty miles from Kioto, Japan
had largely under the government of empresses reached a most creditable
stage of progress in the arts of peace. Near the close of the eighth
century the emperor Kuwammu took up his residence at Kioto, which until
1868 remained the capital of the country, and is even now dignified with
the name of Saikiyo, or “Western Capital.” Here he built a palace very
unlike the simple dwelling in which his predecessors had been content to
live. It had a dozen gates, and around it was reared a city with twelve
hundred streets. The palace, he named “the Castle of Peace,” but for
years it proved the very centre of the feuds which soon began to
distract the country. This did not happen however until some centuries
after the death of Kuwammu. But even after his time there were not
wanting indications that the control of affairs was destined to slip
into the hands of certain powerful families at the imperial court.
The first family to rise into eminence was that of Fujiwara, a member of
which it was that got Kuwammu placed upon the throne. For centuries the
Fujiwaras controlled the civil affairs of the empire, but a more
important factor in bringing about the reduction of the mikado’s power
and the establishment of that strange system of government which was
destined to be so characteristic of Japan, was the rise into power of
the rival houses of Taira and Minamoto, otherwise called respectfully
Hei and Gen. This system of government has almost always been
misunderstood in America and Europe. Two rulers in two capitals gave to
foreigners the impression that there were two emperors in Japan, an idea
that has been incorporated into most of the text books, and
encyclopedias of Christendom. Let it be clearly understood however that
there never was but one emperor in Japan, the mikado, who is and always
was the only sovereign, though his measure of power has been very
different at different times. Until the rise and domination of the
military classes, he was in fact, as well as by law, supreme.
With the feuds of Hei and Gen commences an entirely new era in the
history of the country, an era replete with tales alike of bloodshed,
intrigue and chivalry. We see the growth of a feudal system at least as
elaborate as that of Europe, and strangely enough, assuming almost
identical forms, and that during the same period.
The respective founders of the Taira and Minamoto families were Taira
Takamochi and Minamoto Tsunemoto, two warriors of the tenth century.
Their descendants were for generations military vassals of the mikado,
and were distinguished by red and white flags, colors which suggest the
red and white roses of the rival English houses of Lancaster and York.
For years the two houses served the emperor faithfully; but even before
any quarrel had arisen between them, the popularity of the head of the
Minamoto clan, with the soldiers with whom he had been placed, so
alarmed the emperor Toba (1108-1124, A.D.) that he issued an edict
forbidding the Samurai, the military class, of any of the provinces,
from constituting themselves the retainers of either of these two
families.
It was in the year 1156 that the feuds between the two houses broke out,
and it arose in this way. At the accession of Go-Shirakawa to the throne
in that year, there were living two ex-emperors who would seem to have
voluntarily abdicated; one of them, however, Shutoku, was averse to the
accession of the heir, being himself anxious to resume the imperial
power. His cause was espoused by Tameyoshi, the head of the Minamoto
house, while among the supporters of Go-Shirakawa was Kiyomori, of the
house of Taira. In the conflict which followed, Go-Shirakawa was
successful, and immediately thereafter we find Taira Kiyomori appointed
Daijo-Daijin, or prime minister, with practically all political power in
his hands. On the abdication within a few years of the mikado, the prime
minister was able to put whatever member of the imperial house he willed
upon the throne; and being himself allied by marriage to the imperial
family, he at length saw the accession of his own grandson, a mere babe.
Thus, to use the term connected with European feudalism of the same
period, the mayor of the palace virtually, though not nominally, usurped
the imperial functions. The emperor had the name of power but Kiyomori
had the reality.
But this state of matters was not destined to last long. The Minamotos
were far from being finally quieted. The story of the revival of their
power is a romantic one, but we cannot dwell upon it. It was in the
battle of Atiji that Kiyomori seemed at length to have quelled his
rivals. Yoshitomo, the head of the Minamoto clan was slain in the fight,
but his beautiful wife Tokiwa succeeded in escaping with her three
little sons. Tokiwa’s mother, however, was arrested. This roused the
daughter to make an appeal to Kiyomori for pardon. She did so,
presenting herself and children to the conqueror, upon whom her beauty
so wrought that he granted her petition. He made her his concubine, and
not withstanding the remonstrances of his retainers, also spared the
children who were sent to a monastery, there to be trained for the
priesthood. Two of these children became famous in the history of Japan.
The eldest was Yoritomo the founder of the Kamakura dynasty of shoguns,
and the babe at the mother’s breast was Yoshitsune, one of the flowers
of Japanese chivalry, a hero whose name even yet awakens the enthusiasm
of the youth of Japan and who so impressed the Ainos of the north whom
he had been sent to subdue, that to this day he is worshiped as their
chief god. A Japanese has even lately written a book in which he seeks
to identify Yoshitsune with Genghis Khan.
It is unnecessary to dwell on the circumstances which brought Yoritomo
and Yoshitsune into note; how the two brothers raised the men of the
eastern provinces, and after a temporary check at the pass of Hakone,
succeeded in utterly routing the Taira forces in a dreadful battle, half
by land and half by sea, at the straits of Shimonoseki. Suffice it to
say, that Yoshitsune having been slain soon after a famous victory,
through the treachery of his brother Yoritomo, who was jealous of his
fame and popularity, that warrior was left without a rival. Yoritomo
received from the emperor the highest title which could be conferred
upon him, that of Sei-i-tai-shogun, literally “Barbarian-subjugating
great general.” This title is generally contracted to shogun, which
means simply general. Thus appointed generalissimo of all the imperial
forces, he looked about for a city which he might make the center of his
power. This he found in Kamakura about fifteen miles westward of the
site of the modern Yokohama.
Thus before the close of the twelfth century was founded that system of
dual government which lasted with little change until the year 1868. The
Mikado reigned in Kioto with the authority of his sacred person
undisputed; but the shogun in his eastern city had really all the public
business of the country in his own hands. It was he who appointed
governors over the different provinces and was the real master of the
country; but every act was done in the name of the emperor whose nominal
power thus remained intact.
Yoritomo virtually founded an independent dynasty at Kamakura, but it
was not destined to be a lasting one. His son Yoriye succeeded him in
1199, but was shortly afterwards deposed and assassinated; and the power
though not the title of shogun passed to the family of Yoritomo’s wife,
that of Hojo, different members of which swayed the state for more than
a century.
After a checkered career of various shoguns of the Hojo family, their
tyranny became supreme. None of the family ever seized the office of
shogun, but in reality they wielded all and more of the power attaching
to the office. The political history of these years is but that of a
monotonous recurrence of the exaltation of boys and babies of noble
blood to whom was given the semblance of power, who were sprinkled with
titles and deposed as soon as they were old enough to be troublesome. In
an effort made by the ex-emperor Gotoba to drive the usurping Hojo from
power the chains were riveted tighter than ever. The imperial troops
were massacred by the conquering Hojo. The estates of all who fought on
the emperor’s side were confiscated and distributed among the minions of
the usurpers. The exiled emperor died of a broken heart. The nominal
Mikado of Kioto and the nominal shogun at Kamakura were set up, but the
Hojo were the keepers of both. The oppression, the neglect of public
business and the carousals of the usurpers became intolerable. Armies
were raised spontaneously to support the emperor and the Ashikaga leader
in their revolt against the existing evils. All over the empire the
people rose against their oppressors and massacred them. The Hojo
domination which had been paramount for nearly one hundred and fifty
years was utterly broken.
[Illustration: COLOSSAL JAPANESE IMAGE FIFTY FEET HIGH.]
The Hojo have never been forgiven for their arbitrary treatment of the
Mikados. Every obloquy is cast upon them by Japanese historians,
dramatists, poets and novelists, and yet there is another side to the
story. It must be conceded that the Hojos were able rulers and kept
order and peace in the empire for more than a century. They encouraged
literature and the cultivation of the arts and sciences. During their
period the resources of the country were developed, and some branches of
useful handicraft and fine arts were brought to a perfection never since
surpassed. To this time belongs the famous image carver, sculptor and
architect, Unkei, and the lacquer artists who are the “old masters” in
this branch of art. The military spirit of the people was kept alive,
tactics were improved, and the methods of governmental administration
simplified. During this period of splendid temples, monasteries,
pagodas, colossal images and other monuments of holy zeal, Hojo Sadatoki
erected a monument over the grave of Kiyomori at Hiogo. Hojo Tokimune
raised and kept in readiness a permanent war fund so that the military
expenses might not interfere with the revenue reserved for ordinary
government expenses. To his invincible courage, patriotic pride, and
indomitable energy are due the vindication of the national honor and the
repulse of the Tartar invasion.
During the early centuries of the Christian era, Japan and China kept up
friendly intercourse, exchanging embassies on various missions, but
chiefly with the mutual object of bearing congratulations to an emperor
upon his accession to the throne. The civil disorders in both countries
interrupted these friendly relations in the twelfth century, and
communication ceased. When the acquaintance was renewed in the time of
the Hojo it was not on so friendly a footing.
In China the Mongol Tartars had overthrown the Sung dynasty and had
conquered the adjacent country. Through the Coreans the Mongol emperor,
Kublai Khan, at whose court Marco Polo and his uncles were then
visiting, sent letters demanding tribute and homage from Japan. Chinese
envoys came to Kamakura, but Hojo Tokimune, enraged at the insolent
demands, dismissed them in disgrace. Six embassies were sent, and six
times rejected. An expedition from China consisting of ten thousand men
was then sent against Japan. They landed, were attacked, their commander
was slain, and they returned, having accomplished nothing. The Chinese
emperor now sent nine envoys to announce their purpose to remain until a
definite answer was returned to their master. They were called to
Kamakura, and the Japanese reply was given by cutting off their heads.
The Japanese now began to prepare for war on land and sea. Once more
Chinese envoys came to demand tribute. These were decapitated. Meanwhile
the armada was preparing. Great China was coming to crush the little
strip of land that refused homage to the invincible conqueror. The army
numbered one hundred thousand Chinese and Tartars, and seven thousand
Coreans in ships that whitened the sea. They numbered three thousand
five hundred in all. It was in July, 1281, that the sight of the Chinese
junks greeted the watchers on the hills of Daizaifu. Many of the junks
were of immense proportion, larger than the natives of Japan had ever
seen, and armed with the engines of European warfare which their
Venetian guests had taught the Mongols to construct and work. The naval
battle that ensued was a terrible one. The Japanese had small chance of
success in the water, owing to the smallness of their boats, but in
personal valor they were much superior, and some of their deeds of
bravery are inspiringly interesting. Nevertheless the Chinese were
unable to effect a landing, owing to the heavy fortifications along the
shore.
[Illustration: JAPANESE FEMALE TYPES.]
The whole nation was now roused. Re-enforcements poured in from all
quarters to swell the hosts of defenders. From the monasteries and
temples all over the country went up unceasing prayer to the gods to
ruin their enemies and save the land of Japan. The emperor and
ex-emperor went in solemn state to the chief priest of Shinto, and
writing out their petitions to the gods sent him as a messenger to the
shrines of Ise. It is recorded as a miraculous fact that at the hour of
noon as the sacred envoy arrived at the shrine and offered a prayer, the
day being perfectly clear, a streak of cloud appeared in the sky that
soon overspread the heavens, until the dense masses portended a storm of
awful violence. One of those cyclones called by the Japanese tai-fu, of
appalling velocity and resistless force, such as whirl along the coast
of Japan and China during late summer and early fall of every year,
burst upon the Chinese fleet. Nothing can withstand these maelstorms of
the air. We call them typhoons. Iron steamships of thousands of horse
power are almost unmanageable in them. The helpless Chinese junks were
crushed together, impaled on the rocks, dashed against the cliffs or
tossed on land like corks on the spray. Hundreds of the vessels sank.
The corpses were piled on the shore or floating on the water so thickly
that it seemed almost possible to walk thereon. The vessels of the
survivors in large numbers drifted or were wrecked upon Taka island,
where they established themselves and cutting down trees began building
boats to reach Corea. Here they were attacked by the Japanese, and after
a bloody struggle, all the fiercer for the despair on the one side and
the exultation on the other, were all slain or driven to the sea to be
drowned except three, who were sent back to tell their emperor how the
gods of Japan had destroyed their armada.
[Illustration: SHINTO TEMPLE.]
This was the last time that China ever attempted to conquer Japan, whose
people boast that their land has never been defiled by an invading army.
They have ever ascribed the glory of the destruction of the Tartar fleet
to the interposition of the gods of Ise, who thereafter received special
and grateful adoration as the guardian of the seas and the winds. Great
credit and praise were given to the Lord of Kamakura, Hojo Tokimune, for
his energy, ability and valor. The author of one native history says,
“The repulse of the Tartar barbarians by Tokimune and his preserving the
dominions of our Son of Heaven were sufficient to atone for the crimes
of his ancestors.”
Nearly six centuries afterward when “the barbarian” Perry anchored his
fleet in the bay of Yeddo, in the words of the native annalist, “Orders
were sent by the imperial court to the Shinto priest at Ise to offer up
prayers for the sweeping away of the barbarians.” Millions of earnest
hearts put up the same prayers their fathers had offered fully expecting
the same result.
To this day the Japanese mother hushes her fretful infant by the
question, “Do you think the Mongols are coming?” This is the only
serious attempt at invasion ever made by any nation upon the shores of
Japan.
[Illustration: JAPANESE GOD OF THE WIND.]
The internal history of Japan during the period of time covered by the
actual or nominal rule of the Ashikaga family, from 1336 until 1573,
except the very last years of it, is not very attractive to a foreign
reader. It is a confused picture of intestinal war. It was by foul means
that Ashikaga Takugi, one of the generals who overthrew the Hojos,
attained the dignity of shogun, and a period of more than two centuries,
during which his descendants held sway at Kamakura, was characterized by
treachery, bloodshed and almost perpetual warfare. The founder of this
line secured the favor of the mikado Go-Daigo, after he was recalled
from exile, upon the overthrow of the military usurpation. Ashikaga soon
seized the reins in his own hands. The mikado fled in terror, and a new
mikado was declared in the person of another of the royal family. Of
course this man was willing to confer upon Ashikaga, his supporter the
title of shogun. Kamakura again became a military capital. The duarchy
was restored, and the war of the northern and southern dynasties began,
to last fifty-six years.
[Illustration: DAIMIOS OF JAPAN.]
The act by which more than any other the Ashikagas earned the curses of
posterity, was the sending of an embassy to China in 1401, bearing
presents, acknowledging in a measure the authority of China, and
accepting in return the title of Nippon O, or king of Japan. This which
was done by Ashikaga Yoshimitsu, the third of the line, was an insult to
the national dignity for which he has never been forgiven. It was a
needless humiliation of Japan to her arrogant neighbor and done only to
exalt the vanity and glory of the usurper, who, not content with
adopting the style and equipage of the mikado, wished to be called a
king and yet dared not usurp the imperial throne.
Japan of all the Asiatic nations seems to have brought the feudal system
to the highest state of perfection. While in Europe the nations were
engaged in throwing off the feudal yoke and inaugurating modern
government, Japan was riveting the fetters which stood intact until
1871. The daimios were practically independent chieftains, who ruled
their own provinces as they willed; and the more ambitious and powerful
did not hesitate to make war upon the neighboring clans. There were on
all sides struggles for pre-eminence in which the fittest survived,
annexing to their own territories those of the weaker class which they
had subdued. Nor was it merely rival clans that were disturbing the
country. The Buddhist clergy had acquired immense political influence,
which they were far from scrupulous in using. Their monasteries were in
many cases castles, from which themselves living amid every kind of
luxury, they tyrannized over the surrounding country. The history of
these often reads strikingly like that of the corresponding institutions
in Europe during the middle ages; indeed the hierarchical as well as the
feudal development of Europe and Japan have been wonderfully alike.
[Illustration:
SKETCH SHOWING DEVELOPMENT OF THE JAPANESE ARMY
FROM 1867 TO THE PRESENT.
]
Probably the three names most renowned in Japan are Nobunaga, Hideyoshi
and Iyeyasu. The second and third of these were generals subordinate to
the first, who deposed the Ashikaga shoguns, persecuted the Buddhists,
encouraged the Jesuits, and restored to a great extent the supremacy of
the mikado. The Buddhists look on this leader as an incarnate demon sent
to destroy their faith. He was a Shintoist, with bitter hatred for the
Buddhists, and never lost an opportunity to burn property of his enemies
or butcher priests, women, and children of that faith. These who have
just been named, by their prowess and the strength of their armies, rose
to highest positions among the daimios.
[Illustration: BUDDHIST PRIESTS.]
When these three great men appeared, the country was in a most critical
state. The later Ashikaga shoguns had become as powerless as the mikado
himself in the management of affairs. Nobunaga first rose into note. By
successive victories, he became ruler of additional provinces, and his
fame became so great that the emperor committed to him the task of
tranquilizing the country. He deposed first one usurping shogun and then
another, and thus came an end to the domination of the Ashikagas.
Nobunaga was now the most powerful man in the country, and was virtually
discharging the duties of shogun though he never obtained the title.
Hideyoshi became virtual lord of the empire, after the assassination of
Nobunaga. He rose from the ranks of the peasants to the highest position
in Japan under the emperor. Having in connection with Nobunaga and
Iyeyasu reduced all the Japanese clans into subjection, he looked abroad
for some foreign power to subdue.
The immoderate ambition of Hideyoshi’s life was to conquer Corea, and
even China. Under the declining power of Ashikaga, all tribute from
Corea had ceased and the pirates who ranged the coasts scarcely allowed
any trade to exist. We have seen how it was from Corea that Japan
received Chinese learning and the arts of civilization, and Coreans
swelled the number of Mongol Tartars who invaded Japan with the armada.
On the other hand Corea was more than once overrun by Japanese armies,
even partly governed by Japanese officials, and on different occasions
had to pay tribute to Japan in token of submission. Japanese pirates too
were for six hundred years as much the terror of the Chinese and Corean
coasts as were the Danes and Norsemen of the shores of the North Sea.
The discontinuance of the embassies and tribute from Corea, thus
afforded the ambitious general a pretext for disturbing the friendly
relations with Corea, by the dispatch of an embassador to complain of
this neglect. The behavior of this embassador only too clearly reflected
the swagger of his overbearing lord, and the consequence was an invasion
of Corea.
Hideyoshi promised to march his generals and army to Peking, and divide
the soil of China among them. He also scorned the suggestion that
scholars versed in Chinese should accompany the expedition. Said he,
“This expedition will make the Chinese use our literature.” Corea was
completely overrun by Hideyoshi’s forces, although the commander himself
was unable to accompany the expedition, owing to his age and the grief
of his mother. Further details of this invasion will be found later in
the historical sketch of Corea. It may be said here however, that the
conquest terminated ingloriously, and reflects no honor on Japan. The
responsibility of the outrage upon a peaceful nation rests wholly upon
Hideyoshi. The Coreans were a mild and peaceable people, wholly
unprepared for war. There was scarcely a shadow of provocation for the
invasion, which was nothing less than a huge filibustering scheme. It
was not popular with the people or the rulers, and was only carried
through by the will of the military leader. The sacrifice of life on
either side must have been great, and all for the ambition of one man.
Nevertheless, a party in Japan has long held that Corea was by the
conquests of the third and sixteenth centuries a part of the Japanese
empire, and the reader will see how 1772 and again in 1775 the cry of
“On to Corea” shook the nation like an earthquake.
After the deaths of Nobunaga and Hideyoshi, Tokugawa Iyeyasu was left
the virtual ruler of Japan. At first he governed the country as regent,
but his increasing popularity awoke the jealousy of the partisans of
Hideyori, the son of Hideyoshi, who was nominated as his successor, as
well as of Nobunaga’s family. These combined to overthrow him, and the
consequence was the great battle of Sekigahara, fought in 1600, in which
Iyeyasu came off completely victorious. Three years later, he was
appointed by the emperor shogun. Like Yorotomo he resolved to select a
city as the center of his power, and that which seemed to him most
suitable was not Kamakura, which ere this had lost much of its glory,
but the little castle town of Yeddo, about thirty-five miles farther
north. Here he and his successors, and the dynasty he founded, swayed
the destinies of Japan from 1603 until the restoration in 1868.
[Illustration: JAPANESE JUNK.]
It is not difficult to account for the tone of admiration and pride with
which a modern Japanese speaks of “The age of Taiko.” There are many who
hold that Hideyoshi, or Taiko, was the real unifier of the empire.
Certain it is that he originated many of the most striking forms of
national administration. In his time the arts and sciences were not only
in a very flourishing condition, but gave promise of rich development.
The spirit of military enterprise and internal national improvement was
at its height. Contact with the foreigners of many nations awoke a
spirit of inquiry and intellectual activity; but it was on the seas that
genius and restless activity found their most congenial field.
[Illustration: OLD TIME JAPANESE FERRY.]
This era is marked by the highest production in marine architecture, and
the extent and variety of commercial enterprise. The ships built in this
century were twice the size and vastly the superior in model of the
junks that now hug the Japanese shores or ply between China and Japan.
The pictures of them preserved to the present day, show that they were
superior in size to the vessels of Columbus, and nearly equal in sailing
qualities to the contemporary Dutch and Portuguese galleons. They were
provided with ordnance, and a model of a Japanese breech-loading cannon
is still preserved in Kioto. Ever a brave and adventurous people, the
Japanese then roamed the seas with a freedom that one who knows only of
the modern bound people would scarcely credit. Voyages of trade
discovery or piracy have been made to India, Siam, Birmah, the
Philippine Islands, Southern China, the Malay Archipelago and the
Kuriles, even in the fifteenth century, but was more numerous in the
sixteenth. The Japanese literature contains many references to these
adventurous sailors, and when the records of the far east are thoroughly
investigated, and this subject fully studied, very interesting results
are apt to be obtained showing the widespread influence of Japan at a
time when she was scarcely known by the European world to have
existence.
[Illustration: SCENES OF INDUSTRIAL LIFE. (_From a Japanese Album._)]
HISTORICAL SKETCH FROM THE COMING OF THE
FIRST EUROPEAN TRAVELERS TO THE
PRESENT TIME.
--------------
A New Dynasty of Shoguns—Mendez Pinto’s Visit—Arrival of the Jesuit
Missionaries—Kind Reception of Christianity—Quarrels Between the
Sects—Beginning of Christian Persecution—Expulsion of the
Missionaries—Torture and Martyrdom—The Massacre of Shimabara—Expulsion
of all Foreigners—Closing the Door of Japan—History of the Last
Shogunate—Arrival of Commodore Perry’s Fleet—The Knock at the Door of
Japan—An Era of Treaty Making—Rapid Advance of Western Manners and Ideas
in Japan—Attacks on Foreigners—The Abolition of the Shogunate—Japan’s
Last Quarter Century.
Hitherto we have seen two readily distinguishable periods in the history
of Japan, the period during which the mikados were the actual as well as
the nominal rulers of the empire; and the period during which the
imperial power more and more passed into the hands of usurping mayors of
the palace, and the country was kept in an almost constant ferment with
the feuds of rival noble families which coveted this honor. Successively
the power, although not always the title, of shogun, had been held by
members of the Minamoto, Hojo, Ashikaga, Ota and Toyotomi families. With
Iyeyasu we pass into a third period, like the second in that the dual
system of feudal government still prevailed, but unlike it in that it
was a period of peace. Much strife had accompanied the erection of the
fabric of feudalism, but it now stood complete. The mikado in Kioto and
the daimios in their different provinces, alike ceased to protest
against the dual administration. Within certain limits they had the
regulation of their own affairs; the mikado was ever recognized as the
source of all authority, and the daimios in their own provinces were
petty kings; but it was the shogun in Yeddo who, undisputed, at least in
practice, whatever some of the more powerful daimios may have said,
swayed the destinies of the empire.
Let us now note the policy which the Shoguns adopted towards the
foreigners who as missionaries or merchants had found their way to
Japan, and the course of settlement and trade of foreigners.
It seems now certain that when Columbus set sail from Spain to discover
a new continent, it was not America he was seeking, but the land of
Japan. Marco Polo, the Venetian traveler, had spent seventeen years,
1275-1292, at the court of the Tartar emperor Kublai Khan, and while in
Peking had heard of a land lying to the eastward, called in the language
of the Chinese, Zipangu, from which our modern name Japan has been
corrupted. Columbus was an ardent student of Polo’s book, which had been
published in 1298. He sailed westward across the Atlantic to find this
kingdom. He discovered not Japan, but an archipelago in America on whose
shores he eagerly inquired concerning Zipangu. Following this voyage,
Vasco de Gama and a host of other brave Portuguese navigators sailed
into the Orient and came back to tell of densely populated empires
enriched with the wealth that makes civilization possible, and of which
Europe had scarcely heard. Their accounts fired the hearts of the
zealous who longed to convert the heathen, aroused the cupidity of
traders who thirsted for gold, and kindled the desire of monarchs to
found empires in Asia.
Mendez Pinto, a Portuguese adventurer, seems to have been the first
European who landed on Japanese soil. On his return to Europe he told so
many wonderful stories that by a pun on his Christian name he was dubbed
“the mendacious.” His narrative was, however, as we now know,
substantially correct. Pinto while in China had got on board a Chinese
junk, commanded by a pirate. They were attacked by another corsair,
their pilot was killed, and the vessel was driven off the coast by a
storm. They made for the Liu Kiu Islands, but unable to find a harbor,
put to sea again. After twenty-three days’ beating about, they sighted
the islands of Tanegashima and landed. The name of the island, “island
of the seed,” was significant. The arrival of these foreigners was a
seed of troubles innumerable. The crop was priestcraft of the worst
type, political intrigue, religious persecution, the inquisition, the
slave trade, the propagation of Christianity by the sword, sedition,
rebellion, and civil war. Its harvest was garnered in the blood of
sixty-thousand Japanese.
The native histories recount the first arrival of Europeans in 1542, and
note that year as the one in which fire-arms were first introduced. The
pirate trader who brought Pinto to Japan cleared twelve hundred per
cent. on his cargo, and the three Portuguese returned to China loaded
with presents. The new market attracted hundreds of Portuguese
adventurers to Japan, who found a ready welcome. The missionary followed
the merchant. Already the Portuguese priests and Franciscan friars were
numerous in India. Two Jesuits and two Japanese who had been converted
at Goa, headed by Xavier, landed at Kagoshima in 1549. Xavier did not
have great success, and in a short time left Japan disheartened. He had,
however, inspired others who followed him, and their success was
amazingly great.
The success of the Jesuit missionaries soon attracted the attention of
the authorities. Organtin, a Jesuit missionary in Kioto, writing of his
experiences, says that he was asked his name and why he had come to
Japan. He replied that he was the Padre Organtin and had come to spread
religion. He was told that he could not be allowed at once to spread his
religion, but would be informed later on. Nobunaga accordingly took
counsel with his retainers as to whether he would allow Christianity to
be preached or not. One of these strongly advised not to do so, on the
ground that there were already enough religions in the country, but
Nobunaga replied that Buddhism had been introduced from abroad and had
done good in the country, and he therefore did not see why Christianity
should not be granted a trial. Organtin was consequently allowed to
erect a church and to send for others of his order, who, when they came,
were found to be like him in appearance. Their plan of action was to
care for the sick, and so prepare the way for the reception of
Christianity, and then to convert every one and make the thirty-six
provinces of Japan subject to Portugal. In this last clause we have an
explanation of the policy which the Japanese government ultimately
adopted towards Christianity and all foreign innovations. Within five
years after Xavier visited Kioto, seven churches were established in the
vicinity of the city itself, while scores of Christian communities had
sprung up in the south-west. In 1581 there were two hundred churches and
one hundred and fifty thousand native Christians.
In 1583 an embassy of four young noblemen was dispatched by the
Christian daimios to the pope to declare themselves vassals of the Holy
See. They returned after eight years, having had audience of Phillip II.
of Spain, and kissed the feet of the pope at Rome. They brought with
them seventeen Jesuit missionaries, an important addition to the list of
religious instructors. Spanish mendicant friars from the Philippine
Islands, with Dominicans and Augustinians, also flocked into the
country, teaching and zealously proselyting. The number of “Christians”
at the time of the highest success of the missionaries in Japan was,
according to their own figures six hundred thousand, a number that seems
to be no exaggeration if quantity and not quality are considered. The
Japanese less accurately set down a total of two million nominal
adherents to the Christian sects. Among the converts were several
princes, large numbers of lords, and gentlemen in high official
positions, and beside generals of the army and admirals of the navy.
Churches and chapels were numbered by the thousand, and in some
provinces crosses and Christian shrines were as numerous as the kindred
evidences of Buddhism had been before. The methods of the Jesuits
appealed to the Japanese, as did the forms and symbols of the faith, but
the Jesuits began to attack most violently the character of the native
priests, and to incite their converts to insult their gods, burn the
idols and desecrate the old shrines.
As the different orders, Jesuits, Franciscans and Augustinians
increased, they began to clash. Political and religious war was almost
universal in Europe at the same time, and the quarrels of the various
nationalities followed the buccaneers, pirates, traders and missionaries
to the distant seas of Japan. All the foreigners, but especially
Portuguese, then were slave traders, and thousands of Japanese were
bought and sold and shipped to China and the Philippines. The sea ports
of Hirado and Nagasaki were the resorts of the lowest class of
adventurers of all European nations, and the result was a continuous
series of uproars, broils and murders among the foreigners. Such a
picture of foreign influence and of Christianity as the Japanese saw it
was not calculated to make a permanently favorable impression on the
Japanese mind.
Latterly Nobunaga had somewhat repented of the favor he had shown to the
new religion, though his death occurred before his dissatisfaction had
manifested itself in any active repression. Hideyoshi had never been
well disposed to Christianity, but other matters prevented him from at
once meddling with the policy of his predecessors. In 1588 he ventured
to issue an edict commanding the missionaries to assemble at Hirado, an
island off the west coast of Kiushiu and prepared to leave Japan, and
the missionaries obeyed, but as the edict was not enforced they again
returned to the work of evangelization in private as vigorously as ever,
averaging ten thousand converts a year. The Spanish mendicant friars
pouring in from the Philippines, openly defied Japanese laws. This
aroused Hideyoshi’s attention and his decree of expulsion was renewed.
Some of the churches were burned. In 1596 six Franciscan and three
Jesuit priests with seventeen Japanese converts were taken to Nagasaki
and there burned.
When Hideyoshi died, affairs seemed to take a more favorable turn, but
only for a few years. Iyeyasu was as much opposed to Christianity as
Hideyoshi, and his hatred of the new religion was intensified by his
partiality for Buddhism. The new daimios, carrying the policy of their
predecessors as taught them by the Jesuits, but reversing its direction,
began to persecute their Christian subjects, and to compel them to
renounce their faith. The native converts resisted, even to blood and
the taking up of arms. The idea of armed rebellion among the farmers was
something so wholly new that Iyeyasu suspected foreign instigation. He
became more vigilant as his suspicions increased, and resolving to crush
this spirit of independence and intimidate the foreign emissaries, met
every outbreak with bloody reprisals.
Iyeyasu issued a decree of expulsion against the missionaries in 1600,
but the decree was not at once carried into effect. The date of the
first arrival in Japan of Dutch merchants was also 1600. They settled in
the island of Hirado. In 1606 an edict from Yeddo forbade the exercise
of the Christian religion, but an outward show of obedience warded off
active persecution. Four years later the Spanish friars again aroused
the wrath of the government by defying its commands and exhorting the
native converts to do likewise. In 1611 Iyeyasu obtained documentary
proof of what he had long suspected, the existence of a plot on the part
of the native converts and the foreign emissaries to reduce Japan to the
position of a subject state. Fresh edicts were issued, and in 1614
twenty-two Franciscan, Dominican and Augustinian friars, one hundred and
seventeen Jesuits and hundreds of native priests were embarked by force
on board junks and sent out of the country. The next year the shogun
pushed matters to an extreme with Hideyori, who was entertaining some
Jesuit priests, and laid siege to the castle of Ozaka. A battle of
unusual ferocity and bloody slaughter raged, ending in the burning of
the citadel and the total defeat and death of Hideyori and thousands of
his followers. The Jesuit fathers say that one hundred thousand men
perished in this brief war.
The exiled foreign friars kept secretly returning, and the shogun
pronounced sentence of death against any foreign priest found in the
country. Iyemitsu, the next shogun, restricted all foreign commerce in
Nagasaki and Hirado; all Japanese were forbidden to leave the country on
pain of death. Any European vessel approaching the coast was at once to
be referred to Nagasaki, whence it was to be sent home; the whole crew
of any junk in which a missionary should reach Japanese shores were to
be put to death; and the better to remove all temptation to go abroad,
it was decreed that no ships should be constructed above a certain size
and with other than the open sterns of coasting vessels.
Fire and sword were used to extirpate Christianity and to paganize the
same people who in their youth were Christianized by the same means.
Thousands of the native converts fled to China, Formosa and the
Philippines. The Christians suffered all sorts of persecutions and
tortures that savage ingenuity could devise. Yet few of the natives
quailed or renounced their faith. They calmly let the fire of wood,
cleft from the crosses before which they once prayed, consume them.
Mothers carried their babes to the fire or the edge of the precipice
rather than leave them behind to be educated in pagan faith. If any one
doubt the sincerity and fervor of the Christian converts of to-day, or
the ability of the Japanese to accept a higher form of faith, or their
willingness to suffer for what they believe, he has but to read the
accounts of various witnesses to the fortitude of the Japanese
Christians of the seventeenth century.
[Illustration: JAPANESE BELL TOWERS.]
The persecution reached its climax in the tragedy of Shimabara in 1637.
The Christians arose in arms by tens of thousands, seized an old castle,
repaired it and fortified it, and raised the flag of rebellion. The
armies of veterans sent to besiege it expected an easy victory, and
sneered at the idea of having any difficulty in subduing these farmers
and peasants. It took two months by land and water, however, of constant
attack before the fort was reduced, and the victory was finally gained
only with the aid of Dutch cannon furnished under compulsion by the
traders of Deshima. After great slaughter the intrepid garrison
surrendered, and then began the massacre of thirty-seven thousand
Christians. Many of them were hurled into the sea from the top of the
island rock of Takaboko-shima, by the Dutch named Pappenberg, in the
harbor of Nagasaki.
[Illustration: IMAGE OF BUDDHA.]
The result of this series of events was that the favorable policy
adopted by Iyeyasu in regard to foreign trade was completely reversed.
No foreigners were allowed to set foot on the soil of Japan, except
Chinese and a few Dutch merchants. The Dutch gained the privilege of
residing in confinement on the little island of Deshima, a piece of made
land in the harbor of Nagasaki. Here under degrading restrictions and
constant surveillance lived less than a score of Hollanders, who were
required every year to send a representative to Yeddo to do homage to
the shogun. They were allowed one ship per annum to come from the Dutch
East Indies for the exchange of the commodities of Japan for those of
Holland.
[Illustration: JAPANESE SAMURAI OR WARRIOR OF THE OLD TIME.]
Says Doctor Griffis in his study of this era of Japanese history, “After
nearly a hundred years of Christianity and foreign intercourse, the only
apparent results of this contact with another religion and civilization
were the adoption of gunpowder and fire-arms as weapons, the use of
tobacco and the habit of smoking, the making of sponge cake, the
naturalization into the language of a few foreign words, the
introduction of new and strange forms of disease, among which the
Japanese count the scourge of the venereal virus, and the permanent
addition to that catalogue of terrors which priest and magistrate in
Asiatic countries ever hold as welcome, to overawe the herd. For
centuries the mention of that name would bate the breath, blanch the
cheek and smite with fear as with an earthquake shock. It was the
synonym of sorcery, sedition, and all that was hostile to the purity of
the home and the peace of society. All over the empire, in every city,
town, village and hamlet; by the roadside, ferry or mountain pass; at
every entrance to the capitol, stood the public notice boards on which
with prohibitions against the great crimes that disturbed the relations
of society’s government was one tablet written with a deeper brand of
guilt, with a more hideous memory of blood, with a more awful terror of
torture, than when the like superscription was affixed at the top of a
cross that stood between two thieves on a little hill outside Jerusalem.
Its daily and familiar sight startled ever and anon the peasants who
clasped hands and uttered a fresh prayer; the Bonze, or Buddhist priest,
to add new venom to his maledictions; the magistrate to shake his head;
and to the mother a ready word to hush the crying of her fretful babe.
That name was Christ. So thoroughly was Christianity or the “corrupt
sect” supposed to be eradicated before the end of the seventeenth
century, that its existence was historical, remembered only as an awful
scar on the national memory. No vestiges were supposed to be left of it,
and no knowledge of its tenets was held save by a very few scholars in
Yeddo, trained experts who were kept as a sort of spiritual blood hounds
to scent out the adherents of the accursed creed. It was left to our day
since the recent opening of Japan, for them to discover that a mighty
fire had been smoldering for over two centuries beneath the ashes of
persecutions. As late as 1829 seven persons, six men and an old woman,
were crucified in Ozaka on suspicion of being Christians and
communicating with foreigners. When the French brethren of the Mission
Apostolique of Paris came to Nagasaki in 1860, they found in the
villages around them over ten thousand people who held the faith of
their fathers of the seventeenth century.”
The Portuguese were not the only race to attempt to open a permanent
trade with Japan. Captain John Saris, with three ships, left England in
April, 1611, with letters from King James I. to the “Emperor” (shogun)
of Japan. Landing at Hirado he was well received, and established a
factory in charge of Richard Cocks. The captain and a number of the
party visited Yeddo and other cities and obtained from the shogun a
treaty defining the privileges of trade, and signed Minamoto Iyeyasu.
After a tour of three months Saris arrived at Hirado again, having
visited Kioto, where he saw the splendid Christian churches and Jesuit
palaces. After discouraging attempts to open a trade with Siam, Corea
and China, and hostilities having broken out between them and the Dutch,
the English abandoned the project of permanent trade with Japan, and all
subsequent attempts to reopen it failed.
[Illustration:
JAPANESE GENERAL OF THE OLD TIME.
(_From a Native Drawing._)
]
Will Adams, who was an English pilot, and the first of his nation in
Japan, arrived in 1607 and lived in Yeddo till he died thirteen years
later. He rose into favor with the shoguns and the people by the sheer
force of a manly, honest character. His knowledge of shipbuilding,
mathematics, and foreign affairs made him a very useful man. Although
treated with kindness and honor, he was not allowed to leave Japan. He
had a wife and daughter in England. Adams had a son and daughter born to
him in Japan, and there are still living Japanese who claim descent from
him. One of the streets of Yeddo was named after him, and the people of
that street still hold an annual celebration on the fifteenth of June in
his honor.
The history of the two centuries and a half that followed the triumphs
of Iyeyasu is that of profound peace and stern isolation. We must pass
rapidly in review of them. This great shogun took pains to arrange the
empire after the appointment to the office, in such a way that the
shoguns of the Tokugawa family, the dynasty which he founded, should
have strictest power and most certain descent. His sons and daughters
were married where they would be most powerful in influence with the
great families of daimios. It must not be forgotten that Iyeyasu and his
successor were both in theory and in reality vassals of the emperor,
though they assumed protection of the imperial person. Neither the
shogun nor the daimios were acknowledged at Kioto as nobles of the
empire. The lowest kuge, or noble, was above the shogun in rank. The
shogun could obtain his appointment only from the mikado. He was simply
the most powerful among the daimios, who had won that pre-eminence by
the sword, and who by wealth and power and a skillfully wrought plan of
division of land among the other daimios was able to rule.
[Illustration: JAPANESE BRIDGE.]
In 1600 and the years following, Iyeyasu employed an army of three
hundred thousand laborers in Yeddo improving and building the city.
Before the end of the century, Yeddo had a population of more than half
a million, but it never did have, as the Hollanders guessed and the old
text books told us, two million five hundred thousand souls. Outside of
Yeddo the strength of the great unifier was spent on public roads and
highways, post stations, bridges, castles and mines. He spent the last
years of his life engaged in erasing the scars of war by his policy of
conciliation, securing the triumphs of peace, perfecting his plans for
fixing in stability a system of government, and in collecting books and
manuscripts. He bequeathed his code of laws to his chief retainers, and
advised his sons to govern in the spirit of kindness. He died on the
eighth of March, 1616.
The grandson of Iyeyasu, Iyemitsu, was another great shogun, and it was
he who established the rule that all the daimios should visit and reside
in Yeddo during half the year. Gradually these rules became more and
more restrictive, until the guests became mere vassals. Their wives and
children were kept as hostages in Yeddo. During his rule the Christian
insurrection and massacre at Shimabara took place. Yeddo was vastly
improved, with aqueducts, fire watch towers, the establishment of mints,
weights and measures. A general survey of the empire was executed; maps
of various provinces and plans of the daimios’ castles were made; the
councils called Hiojo-sho (discussion and decision), and Wakadoshiyori
(assembly of elders), were established and Corean envoys received. The
height of pride and ambition which this shogun had already reached, is
seen in the fact that in a letter of reply to Corea he is referred to as
Tai Kun, (“Tycoon”), a title never conferred by the mikado on any one,
nor had Iyemitsu any legal right to it. It was assumed in a sense
honorary or meaningless to any Japanese, unless highly jealous of the
mikado’s sovereignty, and was intended to overawe the Coreans. The
approximate interpretation of it is “great ruler.”
Under the strong rule of the Tokugawa shoguns, therefore, the long
distracted Japanese empire at length enjoyed two-and-a-half centuries of
peace and prosperity. The innate love of art, literature, and education,
which almost constant warfare had prevented from duly developing among
the people, had now an opportunity of producing fruit. And as it had
shown itself in former intervals of rest, so was it now. Under the
patronage of Iyeyasu was composed the Dai Nihon Shi, the first detailed
history of Japan. Tsunayoshi, his successor, 1681 to 1709, founded at
Seido a Confucian university, and was such an enthusiast for literature
that he used to assemble the princes and high officials about him and
expound to them passages from the Chinese classics. Yoshimune, another
shogun, was much interested in astronomy and other branches of science,
beside doing much to improve agriculture. Legal matters also engaged his
attention; he altered Iyeyasu’s policy so far as to publish a revised
criminal code, and improved the administration of the law, forbidding
the use of torture except in cases where there was flagrant proof of
guilt. He built an astronomical observatory at Kanda and established at
his court a professorship of Chinese literature.
Iyenori, shogun from 1787 to 1838, threw the classes of the Confucian
university open to the public. Every body from the nobility down to the
masses of the people began to appreciate literary studies. Maritime
commerce within the limits of the four seas was encouraged by the
shogun’s government, regular service of junks being established between
the principal ports. Nor must it be forgotten that to the Tokugawas is
due the foundation of the great modern city of Yeddo with its vast
fortifications and its triumphs of art in the shrines of Shiba and
Uyeno. It was at this period too that the matchless shrines of Nikko
were reared in memory of the greatness of Iyeyasu and Iyemitsu. The
successors of the former, the shoguns of the Tokugawa dynasty, fourteen
in all, were with one exception buried alternately in the cemeteries of
Zozoji and Toyeizan, in the city districts of Shiba and Uyeno.
But throughout all this period of peace and progress the light of the
outer world was excluded. The people made the best use of the light they
had, but after all it was but dim. The learning by rote of thousands of
Chinese characters, and the acquisition of skill in the composition of
Chinese and Japanese verse, were little worthy to be the highest
literary attainments possible to the most aspiring of the youth of
Japan. In the domain of art there was more that was inviting, but
scientific knowledge was tantalizingly meagre and that little was
overlaid with Chinese absurdities. When we consider that the isolation
of the country was due to no spirit of exclusiveness in the national
character, that indeed it was the result of a policy that actually went
against the grain of the people, how many restless spirits must there
have been during these long years, who kept longing for more light.
Fortunately there was one little chink at Deshima, in the harbor at
Nagasaki, and of this some of the more earnest were able to take
advantage. Many instances are recorded and there must be many more of
which we can know nothing, of Japanese students displaying the truest
heroism in surmounting the difficulties that lay in the way of their
acquiring foreign knowledge. Let us now see how there came at length an
unsettled dawn, and after the clouds of this had cleared, a dazzling
inpouring of the light.
It was the American Union which opened the door of Japan to western
civilization. It had been desired by all of the European nations, as
well as by the United States, to obtain access to Japanese ports.
Supplies were frequently needed, particularly water and coal, but no
distress was ever considered a sufficient excuse for the Japanese to
permit the landing of a foreign vessel’s crew. Shipwrecked sailors
frequently passed through seasons of great trial and danger, before they
were restored to their own people. Even Japanese sailors who were
shipwrecked on other shores, or carried out to sea, were refused
re-admission to their own country when rescued by foreigners.
Commodore Matthew Calbraith Perry of the American navy, urged upon
President Millard Fillmore the necessity and possibility of making some
sort of a treaty with the exclusive empire. It was decided that the most
effective way to advance this desire was to sail into the bay of Yeddo
with a squadron sufficient to command respect. A fleet was assigned to
the undertaking, under the command of Perry, and the American vessels
sailed away to the Orient to rendezvous at the chief city of the Liu Kiu
islands, Napha. From Napha the fleet sailed for Japan, the Susquehanna,
the flagship, the advance of the line of the ships of seventeen nations.
[Illustration: BAPTISM OF BUDDHA.]
It was on the seventh day of July, 1853, under a sky and over a sea of
perfect calm, that the four American warships appeared off Uraga in the
Bay of Yeddo. Without delay the officials of Uraga emphatically notified
the “barbarian” envoy that he must go to Nagasaki, where all business
with foreigners had to be done. The barbarian refused to go. He informed
the messengers that he was the bearer of a letter from the President of
the United States to the Emperor of Japan; that he had sailed as near as
possible to the destination of the letter and would now deliver it and
continue it on its way by land, but he would not retrace his path until
the letter was delivered. The shogun Iyeyoshi on receiving information
of such decision, was exceedingly troubled and called his officials to a
council. Alarm was wide spread, and it was ordered that strict watch
should be kept along the shore to prevent the barbarian vessels from
committing acts of violence. During the eight days while Commodore
Perry’s fleet was waiting in the Bay of Yeddo, the boats of his ships
were busily engaged in taking soundings and surveying the shores and the
anchorage. No sailors were permitted to land, and no natives were
molested. Every effort was made to indicate to the Japanese the desire
for a peaceful friendship.
A learned Chinese scholar was sent by the shogun to Uraga, who acted as
an official and eminent interpreter in an interview with the American
envoy. Continued councils were called by the shogun, not only of his
chief officers but of the daimios, the nobles, and the retired nobles of
Yeddo. The citizens of Yeddo and the surrounding villages were in great
tumult, fearing that there would be a war, for which the country was
totally unprepared. Meanwhile the envoy was impatiently demanding an
answer. At last, after eight days, the patience and the impatience,
combined with the demonstrations made by the vessels of the fleet, which
were highly impressive to the Japanese who had never seen a steamboat,
won success for Commodore Perry’s message. A high Japanese commissioner
came to Uraga, prepared a magnificent pavilion for the ceremonies, and
announced himself ready to receive the letter to the emperor. With great
pomp and ceremony the Americans landed and in this pavilion with proper
formalities, delivered the letter and presents from the president. Then
having, for the first time in history, gained several important points
of etiquette in a country where etiquette was more than law or morals,
the splendid diplomat and warrior Perry sailed away with his fleet July
17, 1853.
It was in response to a temporizing policy on the part of Japan, and to
the good judgment and careful decision of Commodore Perry, that the
fleet sailed away without demanding an immediate reply to his letter.
The American envoy was informed that in a matter of so much importance a
decision could not be at once reached, and that if he now left, he would
on his return get a definite answer. No wonder there was commotion. The
nineteenth century had come suddenly into contact with the fourteenth.
The spirit of commerce and the spirit of feudalism, two great but
conflicting forces, met in their full development, and the result was
necessarily a convulsion. We are hardly surprised to hear that the
shogun died before Commodore Perry’s return, or that during the next few
years the land was harassed by earthquakes and pestilences.
Perry’s second appearance was in February, 1854, this time with a much
larger fleet. A hot debate took place in the shogun’s council as to the
answer that should be given. The old daimio of Mito, the head of one of
the three families, which, forming the Tokugawa clan, furnished the
occupants of the shogunate, wanted to fight and settle the question once
for all. “At first,” he said, “they will give us philosophical
instruments, machinery and other curiosities; will take ignorant people
in; and trade being their chief object they will manage to impoverish
the country, after which they will treat us just as they like, perhaps
behave with the greatest rudeness and insult us, and end by swallowing
up Japan. If we do not drive them away now we shall never have another
opportunity.”
Others gave contrary advice, saying, “If we try to drive them away they
will immediately commence hostilities, and then we shall be obliged to
fight. If we once get into a dispute we shall have an enemy to fight who
will not be easily disposed of. He does not care how long he will have
to spend over it, but he will come with myriads of men-of-war and
surround our shores completely; however large a number of ships we might
destroy, he is so accustomed to that sort of thing that he would not
care in the least. In time the country would be put to an immense
expense and the people plunged into misery. Rather than allow this, as
we are not the equals of foreigners in the mechanical arts, let us have
intercourse with foreign countries, learn their drill and tactics, and
when we have made the nation as united as one family, we shall be able
to go abroad and give lands in foreign countries to those who have
distinguished themselves in battle.”
The latter view carried and a treaty with the United States was signed
on the thirty-first of March, 1854. Now be it observed that the shogun
did this without the sanction of the mikado, whom indeed he had never
yet consulted on the matter, and that he subscribed himself Tai Kun,
(“Tycoon,”) or great ruler, a title to which he had no right and which
if it meant anything at all involved an assumption of the authority of
supreme ruler in the empire. This was the view naturally taken by Perry
and by the ambassadors from European countries who a few years later
obtained treaties with Japan. They were under the impression that they
were dealing with the emperor; and hearing of the existence of another
potentate living in an inland city, surrounded with a halo of national
veneration, they conceived the plausible but erroneous theory that the
tycoon was the temporal sovereign, and this mysterious mikado the
spiritual sovereign of the country. They little dreamed that the
so-called tycoon was no sovereign at all, and that consequently the
treaties which he signed had no legal validity.
The shogun could ill afford thus to lay himself open to the charge of
treason. From the first there had been a certain class of daimios who
had never heartily submitted to the Tokugawa administration. The
principal clans which thus submitted to the regime under protest against
what they considered a usurpation, an encroachment on the authority of
the mikado, whom alone they recognized as the divinely appointed ruler
of Japan, were those of Satsuma, Choshiu, and Tosa. As the years of
peace cast their spell over the nation, making the people forgetful of
war and transforming the descendants of Iyeyasu into luxurious idlers,
much more like impotent mikados than successors of the energetic soldier
and law-giver, their hopes more and more arose that an opportunity would
be given them to overthrow the shogunate and bring about the unification
of the empire at the hands of the mikado. Their time had now come. The
shogun was enervated and he had so far forgotten himself as to open the
country to foreign trade, without the sanction of the “Son of Heaven.”
It was this illegal act of the shogun that precipitated the confusion,
violence and disaster of the next few years, reaching ultimately in 1868
to the complete overthrow of his own power and the restoration of the
mikado to his rightful position as actual as well as nominal ruler of
the empire.
Fearing the consequences of the illegal act into which he had been
driven, the shogun lost no time in sending messengers to Kioto to inform
the mikado of what had happened and seek his sanction to the policy
adopted. It was plead in excuse for the course of conduct, that affairs
had reached such a condition that the shogun was driven to sign the
treaty. The emperor in great agitation summoned a council. The decision
was unanimous against the shogun’s action, and the messengers were
informed that no sanction could be given to the treaty. The next
important step was not taken until July, 1858, when Lord Elgin arrived
with propositions on the part of Great Britain for a treaty of amity and
commerce. He was unaccompanied by any armed force, and brought a steam
yacht as a present from Queen Victoria to the tycoon of Japan.
A few months later treaties were entered into with all the leading
powers of Europe, but if there was a political lull between 1854 and
1858, the poor Japanese had distractions of a very different kind. From
a violent earthquake and consequent conflagration, one hundred and four
thousand of the inhabitants of Yeddo lost their lives. A terrific storm
swept away one hundred thousand more, and in a visitation of cholera
thirty thousand persons perished in Yeddo alone. Moreover, just when the
treaties were being signed, the shogun Iyesada died, “as if,” says Sir
R. Alcock, “a further victim was required for immolation on the altar of
the outraged gods of Japan.”
The political tempest that had been gathering now swept over the nation.
For the next ten years there was so much disorder, intrigue, and
bloodshed, that Japan became among the western nations a byword for
treachery and assassination. Defenseless foreigners were cut down in the
streets of Yeddo and Yokohama and even in the legations. Twice was the
British legation attacked, on one of the occasions being taken by storm
and held for a time by a band of free-lances. No foreigner’s life was
safe. Even when out on the most trivial errand, every foreign resident
was accompanied by an armed escort furnished by the shogun’s government.
It is needless to give an account of all the different assassinations,
successful or attempted, which darkened the period. The secretary to the
American legation was cut down near Shiba, Yeddo, when returning from
the Prussian legation with an armed escort; a Japanese interpreter
attached to the British legation was fatally stabbed in broad daylight
while standing at the legation flagstaff; one of the guard at the same
legation murdered two Englishmen in the garden and then committed
suicide; an Englishman was cut down on the highway between Yokohama and
Yeddo by certain retainers of the daimio of Satsuma, whose procession he
had unwittingly crossed on horseback; and these were not all.
It is not a satisfactory answer to say that hatred of foreigners was the
leading motive that inspired all these acts of violence. This was no
doubt more or less involved, but the true explanation is to be found in
the hostility of the mikado’s partisans to the shogun’s government. All
possible means were taken to thwart the shogun and bring him into
complications with the ambassadors at his court. Every attack on a
foreigner brought fresh trouble upon the Yeddo government and hastened
its collapse. Long before foreigners arrived, the seeds of revolution
had sprouted and their growth was showing above the soil. It is to the
state of political parties and of feudalism at this epoch in Japanese
history, and not to mere ill will against foreigners, that this policy
of intrigue and assassination must be ascribed.
It would take too long to discuss all the complications of this period
and to inquire, for instance, how far when the Japanese government
failed to arrest and execute the murderer of Mr. Richardson, the British
were justified in demanding an indemnity of $500,000 from the shogun and
$125,000 from the daimio of Satsuma, or in enforcing their demands with
a threatened bombardment of Yeddo and an actual bombardment of
Kagoshima. It is out of our scope here to inquire into the shelling of
the batteries of the daimio of Choshiu, at Shimonoseki, in turn by the
Americans, British, French and Dutch, the men of Choshiu having fired
upon some Dutch, American, and French vessels that had entered the
straits against the prohibition of the Japanese. An indemnity of
$3,000,000 was also exacted and distributed among these nations.
Such stern measures doubtless appeared to the foreign ambassadors
necessary to prevent the expulsion or even the utter extermination of
foreigners. Whether their policy was mistaken or not, certain it is that
they can have had no adequate conception of the difficulties with which
the shogun had to contend. The position of that ruler was one of such
distraction as might well evoke for him the pity of every disinterested
onlooker. Do as he would, he could not escape trouble; on the one side
were the mikado’s partisans ever growing in power and in determination
to crush him, and on the other were the equally irresistible foreigners
with their impatient demands and their alarming threats. He was as
helpless as a man between a wall of rock and an advancing tide.
The internal difficulties of the country were increased by dissensions
which broke out in the imperial court. The clans of Satsuma and Choshiu
had been summoned to Kioto to preserve order. For some reason the former
were relieved of this duty, or rather privilege, and it therefore
devolved exclusively upon the Choshiu men. Taking advantage of their
position, the Choshiu men persuaded the mikado to undertake a progress
to the province of Yamato, there to proclaim his intention of taking the
field against foreigners; but this proposal roused the jealousy of the
other clans at the imperial court, as they feared that the men of
Choshiu were planning to obtain possession of the mikado’s person and
thus acquire pre-eminence. The intended expedition was abandoned, and
the men of Choshiu, accompanied by Sanjo, afterward prime minister of
the reformed government, and six other nobles who had supported them,
were banished from Kioto.
The ill feeling thus occasioned between Choshiu and Satsuma, was
fomented by an unfortunate incident which occurred at Shimonoseki early
in 1864. The former clan recklessly fired upon a vessel, which being of
European build they mistook for a foreign one, but which really belonged
to Satsuma. Thus Choshiu was in disfavor both with the shogun and with
the mikado, and in this year we have the strange spectacle of these two
rulers leaguing their forces together for its punishment. August 20,
1864, the Choshiu men advanced upon Kioto, but were repulsed with much
slaughter, only however after the greater part of the city had been
destroyed by fire. The rebellion was not at once quelled; indeed the
Choshiu samurai were proving themselves more than a match for the troops
which the shogun had sent against them, when at length the imperial
court ordered the fighting to be abandoned. Simultaneously with the
Choshiu rebellion the shogun had to meet an insurrection by the daimio
of Mito, in the east. His troubles no doubt hastened his death, which
took place at Osaka in September, 1866, shortly before the war against
Choshiu terminated. Then there succeeded Keiki, the last of the shoguns.
It should be noted, however, that before this the mikado’s sanction had
been obtained to the foreign treaties. In November, 1865, British,
French, and Dutch squadrons came to anchor off Hiogo, of which the
foreign settlement of Kobe is now a suburb, and sent letters to Kioto
demanding the imperial consent. The nearness of such an armed force was
too great an argument to be withstood, and the demand was granted.
Little more than a year after his accession to the shogunate Keiki
resigned. In doing so he proved himself capable of duly appreciating the
national situation. Now that foreigners had been admitted, it was more
necessary than ever that the government should be strong, and this, it
was seen, was impossible without the abolition of the old dual system.
He had secured the mikado’s consent to the treaties, on the condition
that they should be revised, and that Hiogo should never be opened as a
port of foreign commerce.
But the end had not yet come. On the same day when the shogunate was
abolished, January 3, 1868, the forces friendly to the Tokagawas were
dismissed from Kioto, and the guardianship of the imperial palace was
committed to the clans of Satsuma, Tosa, and Geishiu. This measure gave
Keiki great offense, and availing himself of a former order of the court
which directed him to continue the conduct of affairs, he marched with
his retainers and friends to Ozaka and sent a request to the mikado that
all Satsuma men who had any share in the government should be dismissed.
To this the court would not consent, and Keiki marched against Kioto
with a force of thirty thousand men, his declared object being to remove
from the mikado his bad counselors. A desperate engagement took place at
Fushimi, in which the victory was with the loyalists. But this was only
the beginning of a short but sharp civil war, of which the principal
fighting was in the regions between Yeddo and Nikko.
The restoration was at last complete. Proclamation was made “to
sovereigns of all foreign nations and their subjects, that permission
had been granted to the shogun Yoshinobu, or Keiki, to return the
governing power in accordance with his own request;” and the manifesto
continued: “henceforward we shall exercise supreme authority both in the
internal and external affairs of the country. Consequently the title of
emperor should be substituted for that of tycoon which had been hitherto
employed in the treaties.” Appended were the seal of Dai Nippon, and the
signature of Mutsuhito, this being the first occasion in Japanese
history on which the name of an emperor had appeared during his
lifetime.
With the triumph of the imperial party one might have expected a return
to the old policy of isolation. There can be no doubt that when the
Satsuma, Choshiu, and other southern clans commenced their agitation for
the abolition of the shogunate, their ideas with regard to foreign
intercourse were decidedly retrogressive. But after all, the leading
motive which inspired them was dissatisfaction with the semi-imperial
position occupied by the upstart Tokugawas; to this their opposition to
foreigners was quite secondary. It so happened that the Tokugawa shoguns
got involved with foreigners, and it was so much the worse for the
foreigners. To go deeper, what was at the bottom of this desire was the
overthrow of the shogunate. Doubtless their patriotism, what they had at
heart, was the highest welfare of their country, and this they believed
impossible without its unification. Their primary motive then, being
patriotism, we need not be surprised that they were willing to entertain
the notion that perhaps after all the prosperity of their country might
best be insured by the adoption of a policy of free foreign intercourse.
This idea more and more commended itself, until it became a conviction;
and when they got into power they astonished the world by the
thoroughness with which they broke loose from the old traditions and
entered upon a policy of enlightened reformation. To the political and
social revolution which accompanied the restoration of the mikado in
1868, there has been no parallel in the history of mankind.
[Illustration: WOMAN OF COURT OF KIOTO.]
One of the first acts of the mikado after the restoration, was to
assemble the kuges and daimios and make oath before them “that a
deliberative assembly should be formed, and all measures be decided upon
by public opinion; that impartiality and justice should form the basis
of his action; and that intellect and learning should be sought for
throughout the world in order to establish the foundations of the
empire.” In the mid-summer of 1868, the mikado, recognizing Yeddo as
really the center of the nation’s life, made it the capital of the
empire and transferred his court thither; but the name Yeddo, being
distasteful on account of its associations with the shogunate, was
abolished, and the city renamed Tokio, or “Eastern Capital.” At the same
time the ancient capital Kioto, received the new name of Saikio or
“Western Capital.” For the creation of a central administration,
however, more was necessary than the abolition of the shogunate and the
establishment of the mikado’s authority. The great fabric of feudalism
still remained intact. Within his own territory each daimio was
practically an independent sovereign, taxing his subjects as he saw fit,
often issuing his own currency, and sometimes even granting passports so
as to control intercourse with neighboring provinces. Here was a
formidable barrier to the consolidation of the empire. But the reformers
had the courage and the tact necessary to remove it.
The first step towards the above revolution was taken in 1869, when the
daimios of Satsuma, Choshiu, Hizen, and Tosa addressed a memorial to the
mikado requesting his authorization for the resignation of their fiefs
into his hands. Other nobles followed their example, and the consequence
was the acceptance by the mikado of control over the land and revenues
of the different provinces, the names of the clans however being still
preserved, and the daimios allowed to remain over them as governors,
each with one-tenth of the former assessment of his territory as rental.
By this arrangement the evil of too suddenly terminating the relation
between the clans and their lords was sought to be avoided, but it was
only temporary; in 1871 the clan system was totally abolished, and the
country redivided for administrative purposes, with officers chosen
irrespectively of hereditary rank or clan connection.
But the payment of hereditary pensions and allowances of the ex-daimios
and ex-samurai proved such a drain upon the national resources that in
1876 the reformed government found it necessary to compulsorily convert
them into capital sums. The rate of commutation varied from five years’
purchase in the case of the largest pensions, to fourteen years’ in that
of the smallest. The number of the pensioners with whom they had thus to
deal was three hundred and eighteen thousand four hundred and
twenty-eight. The act of the daimios in thus suppressing themselves
looks at first sight like a grand act of self-sacrifice, as we are not
accustomed to see landed proprietors manifesting such disinterestedness
for the patriotic object of advancing their country’s good. But the vast
majority of daimios had come to be mere idlers, as the greater mikado
had been. Their territories were governed by the more able and energetic
of their retainers, and it was a number of these men that had most
influence in bringing about the restoration of the mikado’s authority.
Intense patriots, they saw that the advancement of their country could
not be realized without its unification, and at the same time they
cannot but have preferred a larger scope for their talents, which
service immediately under the mikado would give them. From being
ministers of their provincial governments, they aspired to be ministers
of the imperial government. They were successful; and their lords, who
had all along been accustomed to yield to their advice quite cheerfully,
acquiesced when asked for the good of the empire to give up their fiefs
to the mikado. One result of this is that while most of the ex-daimios
have retired into private life, the country is now governed almost
exclusively by ex-samurai. Such sweeping changes were not to be
accomplished without rousing opposition and even rebellion. The
government incurred much risk in interfering with the ancient privileges
of the samurai. It is not surprising that several rebellions had to be
put down during the years immediately succeeding 1868.
Dr. William Elliot Griffis, in his exhaustive and interesting work, “The
Mikado’s Empire,” discusses at length the change of Japan from feudalism
to its present condition, the abolition of the shogunate, and the
rebellions that followed that event. He declares that popular impression
to be wrong which suggests that the immediate cause of the fall of the
shogun’s government, the restoration of the mikado to supreme power, and
the abolition of the dual and feudal systems, was the presence of
foreigners on the soil of Japan. The foreigners and their ideas were the
occasion, not the cause, of the destruction of the dual system of
government. Their presence served merely to hasten what was already
inevitable.
The history of Japan from the abolition of feudalism in 1871 up to the
present time, is a record of advance in all the arts of western
civilization. The mikado, Mutsuhito, has shown himself to be much more
than a petty divinity, a real man. He has taken a firm stand in advocacy
of the introduction of western customs, wherever they were improvements.
The imperial navy, dockyards, and machine shops have been a pride to
him. He has withdrawn himself from mediæval seclusion and assumed
divinity, and has made himself accessible and visible to his subjects.
He has placed the empress in a position like to that occupied by the
consorts of European monarchs, and with her he has adopted European
attire. In the latter part of June, 1872, the mikado left Tokio in the
flagship of Admiral Akamatsu, and made a tour throughout the south and
west of his empire. For the first time in twelve centuries the emperor
of Japan moved freely and unveiled among his subjects.
[Illustration: CHINESE COOLIE.]
Again in the same year Japan challenged the admiration of Christendom.
The coolie trade, carried on by Portuguese at Macao, in China, between
the local kidnappers and Peru and Cuba, had long existed in defiance of
the Chinese government. Thousands of ignorant Chinese were yearly
decoyed from Macao and shipped in sweltering shipholds, under the name
of “passengers.” In Cuba and Peru their contracts were often broken,
they were cruelly treated, and only a small portion of them returned
alive to tell their wrongs. The Japanese government had with a fierce
jealousy watched the beginning of such a traffic on their own shores. In
the last days of the shogunate, coolie traders came to Japan to ship
irresponsible hordes of Japanese coolies and women to the United States.
To their everlasting shame, be it said some were Americans. Among the
first things done by the mikado’s government after the restoration, was
the sending of an official who effected the joyful delivery of these
people and their return to their homes.
So the Japanese set to work to destroy this nefarious traffic. The
Peruvian ship Maria Luz, loaded with Chinese, entered the port of
Yokohama. Two fugitive coolies in succession swam to the English war
ship Iron Duke. Hearing the piteous story of their wrongs, Mr. Watson,
the British chargé d’affaires, called the attention of the Japanese
authorities to these illegal acts in their waters. A protracted enquiry
was instituted and the coolies landed. The Japanese refused to force
them on board against their will, and later shipped them to China, a
favor which was gratefully acknowledged by the Chinese government. This
act of a pagan nation achieved a grand moral victory for the world and
humanity. Within four years the coolie traffic, which was but another
name for the slave trade, was abolished from the face of the earth, and
the coolie prisons of Macao were in ruins. Yet the act of freeing the
Chinese coolies in 1872 was done in the face of clamor and opposition,
and a rain of protests from the foreign consuls, ministers, and a part
of the press. Abuse and threats and diplomatic pressure were in vain.
The Japanese never wavered, but marched straight to the duty before
them, the liberation of the slaves. The British chargé and the American
consul, Colonel Charles O. Shepherd, alone gave hearty support and
unwavering sympathy to the right side.
[Illustration: JAPANESE GYMNASTS—KIOTO.]
During the same year, 1872, two legations and three consulates were
established abroad, and from that time forward the number has been
increasing until the representatives of Japan’s government are found all
over the world. Scores of daily newspapers and hundreds of weeklies have
been furnishing the country with information and awakening thought. The
editors are often men of culture or students returned from abroad.
The Corean war project had, in 1872, become popular in the cabinet and
was the absorbing theme of the army and navy. During the Tokugawa period
Corea had regularly sent embassies of homage and congratulation to
Japan; but not relishing the change of affairs in 1868, disgusted at the
foreignizing tendencies of the mikado’s government, incensed at Japan’s
departure from Turanian ideals, and emboldened by the failure of the
French and American expeditions, Corea sent insulting letters taunting
Japan with slavish truckling to the foreign barbarians, declared herself
an enemy, and challenged Japan to fight. About this time a Liu Kiu junk
was wrecked on eastern Formosa. The crew was killed by the savages, and,
it is said, eaten. The Liu Kiuans appealed to their tributary lords at
Satsuma, who referred the matter to Tokio. English, Dutch, American,
German, and Chinese ships have from time to time been wrecked on this
cannibal coast, the terror of the commerce of Christendom. Their war
ships vainly attempted to chastise the savages. Soyejima, with others,
conceived the idea of occupying the coast, to rule the wild tribes, and
of erecting light houses in the interests of commerce. China laid no
claim to eastern Formosa, all trace of which was omitted from the maps
of the “Middle Kingdom.” In the spring of 1873, Soyejima went to Peking
and there, among other things granted him, was an audience with the
Chinese emperor. He thus reaped the results of the diplomatic labors of
half a century. The Japanese ambassador stood upright before the “Dragon
Face” and the “Dragon Throne,” robed in the tight black dress-coat,
trousers, and linen of western civilization, bearing the congratulations
of the young mikado of the “Sunrise Kingdom” to the youthful emperor of
the “Middle Kingdom.” In the Tsung-li Yamen, Chinese responsibility over
eastern Formosa was disavowed, and the right of Japan to chastise the
savages granted. A Japanese junk was wrecked on Formosa, and its crew
stripped and plundered while Soyejima was absent in China. This event
piled fresh fuel on the flames of the war feeling now popular even among
the unarmed classes.
[Illustration: FORMOSAN TYPE.]
Japan at this time had to struggle with opposition within and without,
to every move in the direction of advancement in civilization. Says
Griffis, “At home were the stolidly conservative peasantry backed by
ignorance, superstition, priestcraft, and political hostility. On their
own soil they were fronted by aggressive foreigners who studied all
Japanese questions through the spectacles of dollars and cents and
trade, and whose diplomatists too often made the principles of Shylock
their system. Outside the Asiatic nations beheld with contempt, jealousy
and alarm the departure of one of their number from Turanian ideas,
principles, and civilization. China with ill-concealed anger, Corea with
open defiance taunted Japan with servile submission to the ‘foreign
devils.’
“For the first time the nation was represented to the world by an
embassy at once august and plenipotentiary. It was not a squad of petty
officials or local nobles going forth to kiss a toe, to play the part of
figure-heads, or stool-pigeons, to beg the aliens to get out of Japan,
to keep the scales on foreign eyes, to buy gun-boats, or to hire
employees. A noble of highest rank, and blood of immemorial antiquity,
with four cabinet ministers, set out to visit the courts of the fifteen
nations having treaties with Dai Nippon. They were accompanied by
commissioners representing every government department, sent to study
and report upon the methods and resources of foreign civilizations. They
arrived in Washington February 29, 1872, and for the first time in
history a letter signed by the mikado was seen outside of Asia. It was
presented by the ambassadors, robed in their ancient Yamato costume, to
the President of the United States on the 4th of March, Mr. Arinori Mori
acting as interpreter. The first president of the free republic, and the
men who had elevated the eta to citizenship stood face to face in
fraternal accord. The one hundred and twenty-third sovereign of an
empire in its twenty-sixth centennial saluted the citizen ruler of a
nation whose century aloe had not yet bloomed. On the 6th of March they
were welcomed on the floor of Congress. This day marked the formal
entrance of Japan upon the theater of universal history.”
In its subordinate objects the embassy was a signal success. Much was
learned of Christendom. The results at home were the splendid series of
reforms which mark the year 1872 as epochal. But in its prime object the
embassy was an entire failure. One constant and supreme object was ever
present, beyond amusement or thirst for knowledge. It was to ask that in
the revision of the treaties the extra-territoriality clause be stricken
out, that foreigners be made subject to the laws of Japan. The failure
of the mission was predicted by all who knew the facts. From Washington
to St. Petersburg point-blank refusal was made. No Christian governments
would for a moment trust their people to pagan edicts and prisons. While
Japan slandered Christianity by proclamations, imprisoned men for their
beliefs, knew nothing of trial by jury, of the habeas corpus writ, or of
modern jurisprudence; in short while Japan maintained the institutions
of barbarism, they refused to recognize her as a peer among nations.
At home the watchword was progress. Public persecution for conscience'
sake vanished. All the Christians torn from their homes and exiled and
imprisoned in 1868 were set free and restored to their native villages.
Education advanced rapidly, public decency was improved, and the
standards of Christendom attempted.
While in Europe Iwakura and his companions in the embassy kept cognizant
of home affairs. With eyes opened by all that they had seen abroad,
mighty results, but of slow growth, they saw their country going too
fast. Behind the war project lay an abyss of ruin. On their return the
war scheme brought up in a cabinet meeting was rejected. The
disappointment of the army was keen and that of expectant foreign
contractors pitiable. The advocates of war among the cabinet ministers
resigned and retired to private life. Assassins attacked Iwakura, but
his injuries did not result fatally. The spirit of feudalism was against
him.
On the 17th of January, the ministers who had resigned sent in a
memorial praying for the establishment of a representative assembly in
which the popular wish might be discussed. Their request was declined.
It was officially declared that Japan was not ready for such
institutions. Hizen, the home of one of the great clans of the coalition
of 1868, was the chief seat of disaffection. With perhaps no evil
intent, Eto, who had been the head of the department of justice, had
returned to his home there and was followed by many of his clansmen.
Scores of officials and men assembled with traitorous intent, and raised
the cry of “On to Corea.” The rebellion was annihilated in ten days. A
dozen ringleaders were sent to kneel before the blood pit. The national
government was vindicated and sectionalism crushed.
[Illustration: ENTRANCE TO NAGASAKI HARBOR.]
The Formosan affair was also brought to a conclusion. Thirteen hundred
Japanese soldiers occupied the island for six months, conquering the
savages wherever they met, building roads and fortifications. At last
the Chinese government in shame began to urge their claims on Formosa
and to declare the Japanese intruders. For a time war seemed inevitable.
The man for the crisis was Okubo, a leader in the cabinet, the master
spirit in crushing the rebellion, and now an ambassador at Peking. The
result was that the Chinese paid in solid silver an indemnity of
$700,000 and the Japanese disembarked. Japan single-handed, with no
foreign sympathy, but with positive opposition, had in the interests of
humanity rescued a coast from terror and placed it in a condition of
safety. In the face of threatened war a nation having but one-tenth the
population, area, or resources of China, had abated not a jot of its
just demands nor flinched from battle. The righteousness of her cause
was vindicated.
The Corean affair ended happily. In 1875 Kuroda Kiyotaka with men of war
entered Corean waters. Patience, skill, and tact were crowned with
success. On behalf of Japan a treaty of peace, friendship, and commerce
was made between the two countries February 27, 1876. Japan thus
peacefully opened this last of the hermit nations to the world.
The rebellions which we have mentioned were of a mild type compared with
that which in 1877 shook the government to its foundations. In the
limits of our space it is impossible to enter deeply into the causes of
the Satsuma rebellion. Its leader, Saigo Takamori, was one of the most
powerful members of the reformed government until 1873 when he resigned
as some of his predecessors had done, indignant at the peace policy
which was pursued. A veritable Cincinnatus, he seems to have won the
hearts of all classes around him by the Spartan simplicity of his life
and the affability of his manner, and there was none more able or more
willing to come to the front when duty to his country called him. It is
a thousand pities that such a genuine patriot should have sacrificed
himself through a mistaken notion of duty. Ambition to maintain and
extend the military fame of his country seems to have blinded him to all
other more practical considerations. The policy of Okubo and the rest of
the majority in the cabinet, with its regard for peace and material
prosperity, was in his eyes unworthy of the warlike traditions of old
Japan. But we cannot follow out the story of this famous rebellion—how
Saigo established a private school in his native city of Kagoshima for
the training of young Shizoku in military tactics, how the reports of
the policy of the government more and more dissatisfied him, until a
rumor that Okubo had sent policemen to Kagoshima to assassinate him
precipitated the storm that had been brewing. This report was not
supported by satisfactory evidence, although the Kagoshima authorities
extorted a so-called confession from a policeman. Okubo was too noble to
be guilty of such an act. It was only after eight months of hard
fighting, during which victory swayed from one side to another, and the
death of Saigo and his leading generals when surrounded at last like
rats in a trap, and the expenditure of over forty million yen, that the
much tried government could freely draw breath again. The people of
Satsuma believe that Saigo’s spirit has taken up its abode in the planet
Mars, and that his figure may be seen there when that star is in the
ascendant.
By this time railways, telegraphs, lighthouse service, and a navy were
well under construction in native works. Two national exhibitions were
held, one in 1877 and the second in 1881; the latter particularly was a
pretentious one and a great success. In 1879 Japan annexed the Liu Kiu
islands, bringing their king to Tokio, there to live as a vassal, and
reducing the islands to the position of a prefecture in spite of the
warlike threats of China. In the same year occurred the visit to Japan
of General Grant while he was on his tour around the world. The famous
American was entertained most enthusiastically by the citizens of Tokio
for some two weeks in July. The enthusiasm awakened by his visit among
the citizens was remarkable. Arches and illuminations were on every hand
for miles. The entertainment provided by the Japanese for their
distinguished guests at any time is so unique when seen by western eyes
that it is always impressive and delightful.
LIMITS AND POSSESSIONS OF THE JAPANESE EMPIRE.
--------------
The Islands and their Situation—The Famous Mountain Fuji-yama—Rivers and
Canals—Ocean Currents and Their Effect on the Japanese Climate—Japan not
a Tropical Country—Flora and Fauna—The Important Cities—Strange History
of Yokohama—Commerce—Mining—Agricultural Products—Ceramic Art—Government
of the Realm.
The empire of Japan is a collection of islands of various dimensions,
numbering nearly four thousand, and situated to the east of the Asiatic
continent. Only four of these however, are of size sufficient to entitle
them to considerable fame, and around these a sort of belt of defense is
formed by the thousands of islets. Dai Nippon is the name given by the
natives to their beautiful land, and from this expression, which means
Great Japan, our own name for the empire has been taken. Foreign writers
have very often blundered in calling the largest island Nippon or
Niphon. This more properly applies to the entire empire, while the main
island is named in the military geography of Japan, Hondo. This word
itself means main land. The other three important islands are Kiushiu,
the most southeasterly of all; Shikoku, which lies between the latter
and Hondo; and Yesso, which is the most northerly of the chain.
Japan occupies an important position on the surface of the globe,
measured by political and commercial possibilities. Its position is such
that its people may not unreasonably hope to form a natural link between
the Occident and the Orient. Lying in the Pacific Ocean, in the
temperate zone and not in the torrid, as many have the thought, it bends
like a crescent off the continent of Asia. In the extreme north, near
the island of Saghalien, the distance from the main land of Asia is so
short that it is little more than a day’s sail in a junk. At the
southern extremity, where Kiushiu draws nearest to the Corean peninsula,
the distance to the main land is even less. Between this crescent of
islands and the Asiatic main land is enclosed the Sea of Japan. For more
than four thousand miles eastward stretches the Pacific Ocean, with no
stopping point for steamers voyaging to San Francisco unless they
diverge far from their course for a call at Honolulu.
The island connections of Japan are numerous. To the south are the Liu
Kiu islands, which have been annexed to Japan, and still farther the
great island of Formosa. To the north are the Kurile islands, which
extend far above Yesso and were ceded to Japan by Russia in return for
Saghalien, over which rule was formerly disputed. The chain is almost
continuous, although broken and irregular, to Kamtchatka, and thence
prolonged by the Aleutian islands in an enormous semicircle to Alaska
and our own continent.
The configuration of the land is that resulting from the combined
effects of volcanic action and wave erosion. The area of the Japanese
islands is about one hundred and fifty thousand square miles, or nearly
as great as the New England and Middle States. But of this surface
nearly two-thirds consists of mountain land, much of it still lying
waste and uncultivated though apparently capable of tillage. On the main
island a solid backbone of mountainous elevations runs through a great
portion of its length, with subordinate chains extending at right angles
and rising again in the other islands. The mountains decrease in height
towards the south and there are few highlands along the sea coast. The
range is reached by a gradual rise from the sea, until the backbone of
the great island chain is reached. Japan rises abruptly from the sea,
and deep water begins very close to the shore, indicating that the
entire range of islands may be properly characterized as an immense
mountain chain thrown up from the bottom of the ocean. The highest peak
is Fuji-yama, which rises to a height of more than twelve thousand feet
above the sea. It is a wonderfully beautiful mountain, and is the first
glimpse that one has of land in approaching Yokohama from the Pacific
Ocean. Of the position which this mountain occupies in the affections
and traditions of the Japanese, mention will be made in a later chapter.
The islands forming the empire of Japan are comprehended in these
limits; between twenty-four degrees and fifty-one degrees north
latitude, and one hundred and twenty-four degrees and one hundred and
fifty-seven degrees east longitude. That is, speaking roughly, it lies
diagonally in and north of the subtropical belt, and has northern points
corresponding with Paris and Newfoundland, and southern ones
corresponding with Cairo and the Bermuda islands; or coming nearer home,
it corresponds pretty nearly in latitude with the eastern coast line of
the United States, added to Nova Scotia and Newfoundland, and the
contrasts of climate in the latter island and in Florida are probably
not more remarkable than those which are observed in the extreme
northern and southern regions of Japan.
[Illustration: FUJI-YAMA.]
The most striking geographical feature of Japan is the Inland Sea, which
is one of the beauties of the world. It is a long, irregularly shaped
arm of the sea, with tides and rapid currents, of variable width and no
great depth, studded with innumerable thickly wooded islands. It is the
water area which separates Hondo from Shikoku and Kiushiu, and is often
spoken of as the Japanese Mediterranean.
One or two of the rivers of Japan, such as the Sumida, on the banks of
which Tokio, the capital, lies, and which is about as broad as the East
River between New York and Brooklyn, are worthy of note. Here at the
present time are situated several ship yards, and many modern craft
built in the American fashion may be seen along the shore. Here it may
be mentioned that any particular appellation given to a river in Japan
holds good only for a limited part of its course, so that it changes its
name perhaps four or five times in flowing a few hundred miles. Indeed
the river which passes through the city of Ozaka changes its name four
times within the city limits. Most of the larger rivers in the main land
run a course tending almost north and south. The general contour of the
land is such that they must be short, but this direction gives them the
greatest length possible. There are brief periods of excessively heavy
rain, and they are often then in fierce flood, carrying everything
before them and leaving great plains of water-worn stones and gravel
around their mouths. There are many picturesque waterfalls which attract
travelers and command the admiration of native artists and poets. The
rivers at a short distance from their outlets are rendered navigable
chiefly by the courage and expertness of the boatmen,—who are among the
most daring and skillful in the world.
Till recently little has been done to deepen river channels or protect
their banks, except in the interest of agriculture. In the lower
courses, where broad alluvial plains of great fertility have been
formed, they are frequently intersected by numerous shallow canals, for
the most part of comparatively recent excavation, but some of them are
many centuries old and these have been of immense service in keeping up
communication throughout the country. In spite of their shallowness and
rapid silting, some of the rivers of Japan are capable of being improved
so as to admit of the passage of steam vessels of the largest size, and
there are fine natural inlets and spacious bays which form harbors of
great excellence.
The Japanese coast is usually steep and even precipitous. Its chief
natural features, such as sunken rocks, capes, straits, entrances to
bays and harbors and the mouths of rivers are now well marked with
beacons or lighthouses of modern construction. The tides are not great,
and in Yeddo bay the rise is only about four feet on an average. In
spring tides it rarely exceeds six feet, and in general the height of
the flood tide is never very great. Navigation in summer is somewhat
dangerous and difficult, owing to the mists and fogs which are deemed by
its sailors to be the great scourge of Japan. Indeed these malarious
cloud banks are probably as dangerous to the health of the landsmen as
they are to the safety of the mariner. While a large area of land lying
under shallow water, during rice cultivation, may have some share in the
formation of these dangerous mists, there is the more general cause
which is readily to be found in the ocean currents.
Japan occupies a striking position in these currents which flow
northward from the Indian ocean and the Malay peninsula. That branch of
the great Pacific equatorial current called the Kuro Shiwo, or dark tide
or current, on account of its color, flows in a westerly direction past
Formosa and the Liu Kiu islands, striking the south point of Kiushiu and
sometimes in summer sending a branch up the Sea of Japan. With great
velocity it scours the east coast of Kiushiu and the south of Shikoku;
thence with diminished rapidity it envelopes the group of islands south
of the Bay of Yeddo; and at a point a little north of Tokio it leaves
the coast of Japan and flows northeast towards the shores of America,
ultimately giving to our own Pacific coast states a far milder climate
than the corresponding latitudes on the Atlantic coast.
The yearly evaporation at the tropics, of fully fourteen or fifteen feet
of ocean water, causes the great equatorial current of the Pacific to
begin its flow. When the warm water reaches the colder waters to the
northward, condensation of the water-laden air takes place, with the
resulting formation of great cloud banks. The water appears to be of a
deep, almost indigo-blue color, whence the name given to the current by
the Japanese. Fish occur in great numbers where the Arctic current of
fresher, lighter, and cooler water meets the warm salt stream from the
south, amidst great commotion. The analogy of this great current to the
Gulf stream of the Atlantic is apparent, and there can be no doubt as to
its great influence on the climate of Japan. A difference of from twelve
to sixteen degrees may be observed in passing from its waters to the
cold currents from the north, and the effect of this on the atmosphere
is very marked. The sudden and severe changes of temperature are often
noticed on the southern coast of Japan and even in Yeddo bay. They are
evidently due to eddies or branch currents from the great streams of
cold and warm water which interweave themselves in the neighborhood.
In the island of Yesso, the most northerly of the large ones, the
extremes of temperature are nearly as great as in New England. In the
vicinity of Tokio the winter is usually clear and mild, with occasional
sharp frosts and heavy falls of snow. In summer the heat is oppressive
for nearly three months. Even at night the heat remains so high that
sleep becomes almost impossible, the air being oppressive and no breeze
stirring. The greatest heat is usually from the middle of June to early
in September. The cold in winter is much more severe on the northwestern
coast, and the roads across the main island are often blocked with snow
for many months. In Yokohama the snow fall is light, not often exceeding
two or three inches. The ice seldom exceeds an inch in thickness.
Earthquake shocks are frequent, averaging more than one a month, but of
late years there have been none of great severity.
The winds of Japan are at all seasons exceedingly irregular, frequently
violent, and subject to sudden changes. The northeast and easterly winds
are generally accompanied by rain, and are not violent. The southwest
and westerly winds are generally high, often violent, and accompanied
with a low barometer. It is from the southwest that the cyclones or
typhoons almost invariably come. On clear and pleasant days, which in
the neighborhood of Yokohama prevail in excess of foggy ones, there is a
regular land and sea breeze at all seasons. The rainfall is above the
average of most countries, and about two-thirds of the rainfalls during
the six months from April to October.
[Illustration: JAPANESE IDOLS.]
The flora of Japan is exceedingly interesting, not only to botanists and
specialists, but to casual travelers and readers. The useful bamboo
flourishes in all parts of the land; sugar cane and the cotton plant
grow in the southern part; tea is grown almost everywhere. The tobacco
plant, hemp, corn, mulberry for silkworm food, rice, wheat, barley,
millet, buckwheat, potatoes, and yams are all cultivated. The beech, the
oak, maples, and pine trees in rich variety; azaleas, camelias, etc.,
grow in the forests. Some of the more characteristic plants are
wisteria, cryptomeria, calceolaria and chrysanthemums. Various varieties
of evergreens are grown, and the Japanese gardeners are peculiarly
expert in cultivating these trees in dwarf forms of great beauty. Many
familiar wild flowers can be gathered, such as violets, blue-bells,
forget-me-nots, thyme, dandelions, and others. The woods are rich in
ferns, among which the royal fern is conspicuous, and in orchids, ivies,
lichens, mosses and fungi. The beautiful locusts, though imported, may
now fairly be considered as naturalized. There are many water lilies,
reeds and rushes, some of which are of great beauty and others of
utility.
The mammalia of Japan are not numerous. In ancient times, before the
dawn of history, two species of dwarf elephants existed in the plains
around Tokio. There are many monkeys in some parts, even in the extreme
northern latitudes. Foxes abound and are regarded with reverence. Wolves
and bears are destructive in the north. There are wild antelopes, red
deer, wild boars, dogs, raccoons, badgers, otters, ferrets, bats, moles,
and rats; while the sea is specially rich in seals, sea-otters, and
whales. The country has been found quite unsuitable for sheep, but goats
thrive well, although they are not much favored by the people. Oxen are
used for draught purposes. Horses are small but are fair quality, and
the breed is being improved. The cats are nearly tailless. The dogs are
of a low, half-wolfish breed. There are some three hundred varieties of
birds known in Japan. Few of them are what we call song-birds, but the
lark is one brilliant exception. Game birds are plentiful, but are now
protected.
Insects are very numerous, as no traveler will dispute, and Japan is a
great field for investigation by entomologists. Locusts are often
destructive, and mosquitoes are a great pest. Bees, the silk worm and
the wax-insect are highly appreciated.
There are several kinds of lizards, a great variety of frogs, seven or
eight snakes, including one deadly species, and two or three kinds of
tortoise. The crustaceans are numerous and interesting, and of fish
there is extraordinary variety, especially those found in salt water.
Oysters and clams are excellent and plentiful.
Let us now turn to the temporal affairs of the people who dwell in this
island empire, their cities, their industries, and to their government.
Japan like its oriental companion, China, is a country of great cities,
although the smaller empire has not so many famous for their size as has
China. With scarcely an exception these greater cities are situated at
the heads of bays, most of them good harbors and accessible for
commerce. The largest of these cities, of course, is the capital Tokio,
which doubtless passes a million inhabitants, although it is impossible
that it should justify the American tradition of not many years ago,
that its numbers were twice a million. Tokio, or the old city of Yeddo,
is situated near the head of Yeddo Bay, but a few miles from Yokohama,
and but little farther from Uraga where the first reception to Commodore
Perry was given. Among the other more important cities on the sea coast
are Nagasaki, Yokohama, Hakodate, Hiogo, Ozaka, Hiroshima, and Kanagawa.
Nagasaki is situated on the southwest coast of the island of Kiushiu,
and is built in the form of an amphitheater. The European quarter in the
east, stands upon land reclaimed from the sea at considerable labor and
expense. Desima, the ancient Dutch factory, lies at the foot, and behind
it is the native part of the town. The whole is sheltered by high wooden
mountains. The city of Nagasaki was almost the first which attracted the
attention of foreigners, partly from its being already known by name
from the Dutch colony established there; partly because it was the
nearest point to China and a port of great beauty; and also because
before the political revolution which overthrew the power of the
shogunate, the daimios of the south were there enabled, owing to its
distance from Yeddo, to transact foreign affairs in their own way
unmolested. This comparative importance did not last long, for affairs
soon began to be concentrated in Yokohama, and the opening of the ports
of Hiogo and Ozaka further reduced it to a secondary rank among
commercial towns. It is still, however, a busy place and a great portion
of the navigation of the Japanese seas passes by its beautiful port. But
it is not a town of the future, and will be supplanted in prosperity to
considerable extent by the more northern cities.
Yokohama, situated on the Gulf of Yeddo, owes its rise and importance to
the merchants who came to seek their fortunes in the empire of the
rising sun immediately after the signature of the treaties which threw
open the coasts of Japan to adventurous foreigners. When Perry, with his
augmented fleet, returned to Japan in February, 1854, the Japanese found
him as inflexibly firm as ever. Instead of making the treaty at Uraga he
must take it nearer Yeddo. Yokohama was the chosen spot, and there on
the 8th of March, 1854, were exchanged the formal articles of convention
between the United States and Japan.
By the treaty of Yokohama, Shimoda was one of the ports opened to
Americans. Before it began to be of much service the place was visited
by an earthquake and tidal wave, which overwhelmed the town and ruined
the harbor. The ruin of Shimoda was the rise of Yokohama. By a new
treaty Kanagawa, three miles across the bay from Yokohama, was
substituted for Shimoda. The Japanese government decided to make
Yokohama the future port. Their reasons for this were many. Kanagawa was
on the line of the great highway of the empire, along which the proud
Daimios and their trains of retainers were continually passing. With the
antipathy to foreigners that existed, had Kanagawa been made a foreign
settlement, its history would doubtless have had many more pages of
assassination and incendiarism than did Yokohama. Foreseeing this, even
though considered by the foreign ministers a violation of treaty
agreements, the Japanese government immediately set to work to render
Yokohama as convenient as possible for trade, residence and espionage.
They built a causeway nearly two miles long across the lagoons and
marshes to make it of easy access. They built granite piers, custom
house and officers’ quarters, and dwellings and store houses for the
foreign merchants. After a long quarrel over which should be the city,
the straggling colony of diplomats, missionaries, and merchants of
Kanagawa finally pulled up their stakes and joined the settlement of
Yokohama. Yokohama was settled in a squatter-like and irregular manner,
and the ill effects of it are seen to this day. When compared with
Shanghai, the foreign metropolis of China, it is vastly inferior.
The town grew slowly at first. Murders and assassinations of foreigners
were frequent during the first few years. Diplomatic quarrels were
constant, and threats of bombardment from some foreign vessel in the
harbor of frequent occurrence. A fire which destroyed nearly the whole
foreign town seemed to purify the place municipally, commercially, and
morally. The settlement was rebuilt in a more substantial and regular
manner. As the foreign population grew, banks, newspaper offices,
hospitals, post-offices, and consulate buildings reappeared in a new
dignity. Fire and police protection were organized. Steamers began to
come from European ports and from San Francisco. Social life began as
ladies and children came, and houses became homes. Then came the rapid
growth of society and the finer things. Churches, theaters, clubs,
schools were organized in rapid succession. Telegraph connection with
Tokio, and thence around the globe, was accomplished, and the railway
system increased rapidly. Within the thirty-five years of the life of
Yokohama, it has grown from a fishing village of a few hundred to a city
of fifty thousand people. Its streets are lighted with gas and
electricity; its stores are piled full of rare silks, bronzes and
curios. At present the foreign population of Yokohama numbers about two
thousand residents. In addition to these the foreign transient
population, made up of tourists and officers and sailors of the navy,
and the merchant marine, numbers between three thousand and six
thousand. Several daily newspapers, beside weeklies and monthlies,
printed in English, furnish mediums of communication and news. Yokohama
has become and will remain the great mercantile center of American and
European trade in Japan.
Hiogo, or rather Kobe, as the foreign part has been called since the
concession, is near Ozaka, both towns being situated on the inland Sea
of Japan, near the south end of the Island of Niphon. Kobe is a
considerable foreign settlement, with many fine houses and spacious
warehouses. Ozaka, which contains more than half a million inhabitants,
is one of the chief trading cities of Japan, and an immense proportion
of the merchandise imported into the empire passes through it.
[Illustration: JAPANESE JUGGLERS.]
The commerce between Japan and western nations, European and American,
increases year by year. England enjoys the profits from more than half
of the total interchange, the United States is second, with a large
portion of the remainder, and the rest of the commerce is divided among
Germany, France, Holland, Norway, and Sweden. It is impossible to obtain
figures recent enough to be a satisfactory index of the total volume of
commerce annually, but it is now very many millions of dollars a year.
Japan exports tobacco, rice, wax, tea, silks, and manufactured goods,
such as curios, bronzes, lacquer ware, etc. The principal imports of
Japan are cotton goods, manufactures of iron, machinery of all sorts,
woolen fabrics, flour, etc.
Mining in Japan is seldom carried on by modern methods, and the mineral
wealth has not been developed as it will be within a few years. In
almost every portion of Japan are found ores of some kind and there is
scarcely a district in which there are not traces of mines having been
worked. No mines can be worked without special license of the
government, and foreigners are excluded from ownership in any mining
industry. Japan seems to be fairly well, though not richly, provided
with mineral wealth. The mines include those for gold, silver, copper,
lead, iron, tin, plumbago, antimony, arsenic, marble, sulphur, alum,
salt, coal, petroleum, and other minerals.
The annual export of tea amounts to nearly thirty million pounds, of
which considerably more than half is shipped from Yokohama. All Japanese
tea is green and the United States is the chief customer for it.
The exact area of Japan is not known, though it is computed at nearly
one hundred and fifty thousand square miles, with a population of more
than two hundred persons to a square mile. The number of acres under
cultivation is about nine million, or one-tenth of the entire area. Not
one-fourth of the fertile portion of Japan is yet under cultivation.
Immense portions of good land await the farmers’ plow and seed to return
rich harvests. For centuries the agricultural art has been at a
standstill. Population and acreage have increased, but the crop in bulk
and quantity remains the same. The true wealth of Japan consists in her
agricultural and not in her mineral and manufacturing resources. The
government and intelligent classes seem to be awakening to this fact.
The islands are capable of yielding good crops and adapted to support
the finest breeds of cattle. With these branches of industry increased
to the extent that they deserve, the prosperity of the empire will show
constant increase.
The ceramic art of Japan and the art of the lacquer worker are two that
have helped to make Japanese wares famous in the western world. The
various wares of porcelain and faience are made in Japan in quality and
art inferior to none in the world.
Since the restoration to power of the mikado in 1868, the government of
Japan has been growing nearer and nearer into the forms of western
monarchical governments. In a prior chapter the promise of the young
mikado to advance the freedom of his people, and ultimately to adopt
constitutional forms of rule, has been quoted. In the later years he has
been aiming for the fulfillment of this promise. Supporting him, the
party of progressionists, largely influenced by contact with European
and American civilization, urge on every reform. The present government
is simply the modernized form of the system established more than a
thousand years ago, when centralized monarchy succeeded simple
feudalism. After the emperor comes the Dai Jo Kuan, which is practically
a supreme cabinet, and following this, three other cabinets of varying
powers and duties. The council of ministers is made up of the heads of
departments, the foreign office, home office, treasury, army, navy,
education, religion, public works, judiciary, imperial household, and
colonization. The Dai Jo Kuan directs the three imperial cities and the
sixty-eight ken or prefectures. The provinces are now merely
geographical divisions.
In the course of the efforts to bring the Japanese forms of government
more into harmony with those of Europe and America, many important
changes have been made. A system of nobility was devised, and titles
were granted to those who were considered to be entitled to them,
whether by birth or achievement. The four or five ranks included in this
system closely follow the English models.
[Illustration: JAPANESE COURT DRESS, OLD STYLE.]
The judiciary, too, has been remodeled in many details to make it
approach the western system. The methods of procedure are gradually
conforming nearer and nearer to our own, as well as the names and
jurisdiction of the courts. The Japanese people have been exceedingly
anxious of late years to expunge the extraterritoriality clause which
appears in the treaties with all western nations. It provides, in
effect, that offenses by a foreigner against a Japanese shall be judged
in a consular court presided over by the consul of that country whence
the foreigner comes. In other words, Japanese courts have no
jurisdiction over the doings of foreigners having consuls in that
country. This provision has become very obnoxious to the Japanese
people, placing them on a level, as it does, with barbaric and
semi-barbaric countries, where like provisions hold. This has been one
of the potent factors in influencing Japan to adopt western legal
methods. Recent treaties which have been drawn with the United States
and with England provide that this clause shall be expunged, and if they
are finally agreed upon we may soon see Japan more absolutely
independent than she has yet been.
In 1890 a constitution was granted to Japan by the emperor, and a few
months later legislative bodies for the first time began deliberation in
Tokio. The powers of this parliament are constantly increasing. The war
between China and Japan has been a strong influence to weld the people
of opposing political faiths into harmony, and in parliament
conservatives and radicals alike have risen in patriotism, and have been
glad to cast votes for every measure that would hold up the hands of
those who were bearing the battles. With a government drawing for itself
lines parallel with those of enlightened western nations, increasing the
freedom of its people, the power of the people’s legislators, and the
honesty of the people’s courts, Japan has every right to name herself as
worthy of a place in full brotherhood with the family of civilized
nations.
[Illustration:
COUNCIL OF WAR ON A JAPANESE BATTLE SHIP.
(From a Drawing by a Japanese Artist.)]
]
PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS OF THE JAPANESE PEOPLE.
--------------
Difference of Opinion as to the True Significance of Their Rapid
Adoption of Western Civilization—Physique of Man and Woman—Two Great
Classes of the Population—The Samurai—The Agricultural Laborer—Wedding
Ceremonies—Elopements—Japanese Babies—Sports of Childhood and of
Age—Dress of Man and Woman—Food—Homes of the People—Family Life—Art,
Science, Medicine, Music—Language and Literature—Religion.
In such a state of transition are the Japanese people themselves, as
truly as the government, that it is difficult to describe their personal
characteristics. Different observers reach different conclusions as to
their personality. One affirms that great quickness of imitation and
judgment in discovering what is worth imitating, seem to be the
prominent characteristics of the Japanese. They want originality and
independence of thought, and character which accompanies it. The
Japanese are not slow in adopting the inventions of modern civilization,
and even in modifying them to suit their own convenience, but, says
another observer, that they will ever add anything of importance to them
may be doubted. The same is true in a political point of view. The more
enlightened of the Japanese are already beginning to recognize the
superiority of the European forms of government. The upper classes are
all sedulously imitating Paris and London fashions of dress. In our own
country we have seen the prevalence of an offensive Anglomania among
certain classes of society in the larger cities, but in Japan a
corresponding mania for the forms of western civilization has become
almost universal, and is reaching the real bulk of the nation. Such
extraordinary capacity for change may mark a versatile but unreliable
race; for it seems hard to believe that a people who are parting with
their ancestral notions with such a total absence of any pangs of
sorrow, will be likely to adhere with much steadfastness to a new order
of things. On the other hand, other students of this movement take it to
be only a most gratifying indication that Japan was a nation which had
outgrown its narrow limits of thought and learning, ready to adopt
whatever was good, and yearning for it when the opportunity came, with a
strength that made rapid assimilation of ideas entirely proper, and no
sign of instability. It is to be hoped that the latter interpretation is
the right one.
In moral character the average Japanese is frank, honest, faithful,
kind, gentle, courteous, confiding, affectionate, filial, and loyal.
Love of truth for its own sake, chastity, and temperance are not
characteristic virtues. A high sense of honor is cultivated by the
Samurai. In spirit the average artisan and farmer is lamblike. In
intellectual capacity the actual merchant is mean, and his moral
character low. He is beneath the Chinaman in this respect. The male
Japanese is far less overbearing and more chivalrous to woman than any
other Asiatic. In political knowledge, or gregarious ability, the
countryman is a baby and the city artisan a boy. The peasant is a
pronounced pagan, with superstition ingrained into his inmost nature. In
reverence to elders and to antiquity, obedience to parents, gentle
manners, universal courtesy, and generous impulses the Japanese are the
peers of any and superior to many peoples of Christendom. The idea of
filial obedience has been developed into fanaticism and is the main blot
of paganism and superstition.
The Japanese in physique are much of the same type as the Spaniards, and
inhabitants of the south of France. They are of middle or low stature.
The men are about five feet six inches in height or a trifle less on an
average, while the women rarely exceed five feet. When dressed the
Japanese look strong, well proportioned men, but when in the exceedingly
slight costumes which they very often are pleased to adopt, it is then
apparent that though their bodies are robust their legs are short and
slight. Their heads are somewhat out of proportion to their bodies,
being generally large and sunk a little between the shoulders, but they
have small feet and delicate hands. The resemblance the Japanese bear to
the Chinese is not nearly as marked as popular opinion would have it.
The faces of the former are longer and more regular, their noses more
prominent, and their eyes less sloped. The men are naturally very
hirsute, but they never wear beards. Their hair is glossy, thick, and
always black. Their eyes are black, their teeth white and slightly
prominent. The shade of their skin is totally unlike the yellow
complexions of the Chinese; in some cases it is very swarthy or copper
colored, but the most usual tint is an olive brown. Children and young
people have usually quite pink complexions.
[Illustration: DRESSING THE HAIR.]
The women follow the Chinese type a little closer. The eyes are narrower
and sloped upward, and the head is small. Like the men their hair is
glossy and very black, but it never reaches the length of American
women’s hair. They have clear, sometimes even perfectly white skin,
especially among the aristocracy, oval faces, and slender, graceful
forms. Their manners are peculiarly artless and simple. But the harmony
of the whole is spoiled in many instances by an ugly depression of the
chest, which is sometimes observed in those who are otherwise handsomest
and best formed.
About the end of the eighth century a reform was instituted in the
military system of the empire, which had become unsatisfactory and
defective. The court decided that all those among the rich peasants who
had capacity and were skilled in archery and horsemanship, should
compose the military class, and that the remainder, the weak and feeble,
should continue to till the soil and apply themselves to agriculture.
This was one of the most significant of all the changes in the history
of Japan. Its fruits are seen to-day in the social constitution of the
Japanese people. Though there are many classes, there are but two great
divisions of the Japanese, the military and the agricultural.
This change wrought a complete severance of the soldier and the farmer.
It lifted up one part of the people to a plane of life on which travel,
adventure, the profession and pursuit of arms, letters, and the
cultivation of honor and chivalry were possible, and by which that
brightest type of Japanese men, the Samurai was produced. This is the
class which for centuries has monopolized arms, polite learning,
patriotism, and intellect of Japan. They are the men whose minds have
been open to learn, from whom sprung the ideas that once made and later
overthrew the feudal system, which wrought the mighty reforms that swept
away the shogunate in 1868, and restored the mikado to ancient power,
who introduced those ideas that now rule Japan, and sent their sons
abroad to study the civilization of the west. To the Samurai Japan looks
to-day for safety in war and progress in peace. The Samurai is the soul
of the nation. In other lands the priestly and the military castes were
formed, in Japan one and the same class held the sword and the pen; the
other class, the agricultural, remained unchanged.
Left to the soil to till it, to live and die upon it, the Japanese
farmer has remained the same to-day that he was then. Like the wheat,
that for successive ages is planted as wheat, sprouts, beards and fills
as wheat, the peasant with his horizon bounded by his rice fields and
water courses or the timbered hills, his intellect laid away for safe
keeping in the priest’s hands, is the son of the soil. He cares little
who rules him unless he is taxed beyond the power of flesh and blood to
bear, or an overmeddlesome official policy touches his land to transfer,
sell or divide it. Then he rises to rebel. In time of war he is a
disinterested and a passive spectator and he does not fight. He changes
masters with apparent unconcern. Amidst all the ferment of ideas induced
by the contact of western civilization with Asiatic within the last four
decades, the farmer stolidly remains conservative. He knows not nor
cares to hear of it and hates it because of the heavier taxes it imposes
upon him.
The domestic solemnities of the Japanese, marriage especially, are made
the subjects of deep and careful meditation. In the upper classes
marriage is arranged between two young people when the bridegroom has
reached his twentieth and the bride her sixteenth year. The will of the
parents is almost without exception the dominating power in the
matrimonial arrangements, which are carried out according to agreement
among the relatives, but love affairs of a spontaneous kind form a large
element in the romantic literature of Japan. The wedding is preceded by
a betrothal, which ceremony offers an occasion for the members of both
families to meet one another; and it not unfrequently happens that the
future couple then learn for the first time the wishes of their parents
respecting their union. If perchance the bridegroom elect is not
satisfied with the choice, the young woman returns home again. With the
introduction of other western ideas, this inconvenient custom is little
by little falling into disuse. Nowadays, if a young man wishes to marry
into a family of good position or one which it would be advantageous to
his prospects to enter, he endeavors first to see the young lady, and
then if she pleases him he sends a mediator, chosen usually from amongst
his married friends, and the betrothal is arranged without any further
obstacle. Even more American-like than this, however, there are many
instances, and the number is constantly increasing, in which the match
is the result of mutual affection, and sometimes elopements are known to
occur among the best families.
When things are carried through conventionally, the betrothal and
wedding are usually solemnized on the same day and without the
assistance of any minister of worship. The customary ceremonies are all
of a homely nature, but at the same time are extremely complicated and
numerous. Upon the day fixed, the trousseau of the young bride and all
the presents she has received, are brought to the home of the
bridegroom, where the ceremony is to be performed, and arranged in the
apartments set apart for the affair. The bride arrives soon afterward,
dressed in white and escorted by her parents. The groom, arrayed in gala
costume, receives her at the entrance of the house, and conducts her
into the hall where the betrothal takes place. Here grand preparations
have been made. The altar of the domestic gods has been decorated with
images of the patron saints of the family and with different plants,
each having its symbolical meaning.
When all have taken their places according to the recognized form of
precedence, the ceremony is begun by two young girls, who hand around
unlimited quantities of saki to the guests. These two damsels are
surnamed the male and female butterfly, the emblems of conjugal
felicity, because according to popular notion butterflies always fly
about in couples. The decisive ceremony is tinged with a symbolism which
has a considerable touch of poetry in it. The two butterflies, holding
between them a two-necked bottle, approach and offer it to the engaged
couple to drink together from the two mouths of the bottle till it is
emptied, which signifies that husband and wife must drain together the
cup of life whether it contain nectar or gall; they must share equally
the joys and sorrows of existence.
The Japanese is the husband of one wife only, but he is at liberty to
introduce several concubines under the family roof. This is done in all
classes of society, especially amongst the daimios. It is asserted that
in many of the noble families the legitimate wife not only evinces no
jealousy, but has even a certain pleasure in seeing the number of her
household thus augmented, as it supplies her with so many additional
servants. In the middle classes, however, the custom is often the cause
of bitter family dissentions.
The heavy expenses of the marriage ceremonies often occasion
considerable domestic strife and misery, at least if they are celebrated
according to all the established conventionalities. Debts are then
incurred which perhaps the young couple are unable to meet, so that when
other expenses grow, and trouble or misfortune overtake them, they are
speedily plunged into the deepest distress and indigence. The natural
consequence of these arbitrary customs is the increase of runaway
matches. The elopement, however, is usually wisely winked at by the
parents, who feign great lamentation and anger, then finally assemble
their neighbors, pardon their recreant children, and circulate the
inevitable saki, and the marriage is considered as satisfactory as if
performed with all the requisite formalities.
The birth of a child is another occasion for the meeting of the whole
circle of relations, and the consumption of a great many more bumpers of
saki. The baptism of the young Japanese citizen takes place thirty days
later, when the infant is taken to the temple of the family divinity to
receive its first name. The father has previously written three
different names upon three separate slips of paper, which are handed
over to the officiating bonze or priest. The latter throws them into the
air, and the piece of paper which in falling first touches the ground
contains the name which is to be given to the child. There are no
godparents, but several friends of the family declare themselves the
infant’s protectors and make it several presents, among which is a fan
if it be a boy, or a pot of rouge if a girl.
[Illustration: CHILD CARRYING BABY.]
The Japanese child is early taught to endure hardships, and is subjected
from its infancy to all the small miseries of life, so far as may be
thought wise for its training. The mother nurses it till it is two years
of age, and carries it continually about with her attached to her back
for convenience. The children are daintily pretty, chubby, rosy,
sparkling-eyed. The children’s heads are shaved in all curious fashions,
some with little topknots, and others with bald spots. The way the
babies are carried is an improvement upon the Indian fashion. He is
lugged on the back of his mother or his sister, maybe scarcely older
than himself, either strapped loosely but safely, with his head just
peering above the shoulder of the bearer, or else enclosed in a fold of
the garment she wears. It is a popular belief among travelers that
Japanese babies are the best in the world and never cry, but the
Japanese themselves claim no such distinction for the little ones, very
proud of them though they are, and affirm that they have their fits of
temper as well as American babies.
Education is not forced too early upon the children, but nature is
allowed its own way during the first years of childhood. Toys,
pleasures, fetes of all kinds, are liberally indulged in. One writer has
said that Japan is the paradise of babies; not only is this true but it
is also a very delightful abode for all who love play. The contrast
between the Japanese and Chinese character in this respect is radical.
The whole character, manners, and even the dress of the sedate and
dignified Chinaman, seems to be in keeping with that aversion to
rational amusement and athletic exercises which characterize that adult
population. In Japan, on the contrary, one sees that children of the
larger growth enjoy with equal zest, games which are the same or nearly
the same as those of the little ones. Certain it is that the adults do
all in their power to provide for the children their full quota of play
and harmless sports.
A very noticeable change has passed over the Japanese people since the
recent influx of foreigners, in respect of their love of amusements.
Their sports are by no means as numerous or elaborate as formerly, and
they do not enter into them with the enthusiasm that formerly
characterized them. The children’s festivals and sports are rapidly
losing their importance, and some are rarely seen. There is no country
in the world in which there are so many toy shops for the sale of the
things which delight children. Street theatrical shows are common. Sweet
meats of a dozen strange sorts are carried by men who do tricks in
gymnastics to please the little ones. In every Japanese city there are
scores if not hundreds of men and women who obtain a livelihood by
amusing the children. There are indoor games and outdoor games, games
for the day time and games for the evening. Japanese kite flying and top
spinning are famous the world over, and experts in these sports come to
exhibit their adeptness in our own country. In the northern provinces,
where the winters are severe, Japanese boys have the same sports with
snow and ice, coasting, sliding, fighting mimic battles with snowballs,
that are known to our own American boys. Dinners, tea parties, and
weddings, keeping store, and playing doctor, are imitated in Japanese
children’s games.
On the third day of the third month is held the wonderful “Feast of
Dolls” which is the day especially devoted to the girls, and to them it
is the greatest day in the year. The greatest day in the year for the
boys is on the fifth day of the fifth month, when they celebrate what is
known as the “Feast of Flags.”
[Illustration: THE CHINESE FLEET AT WEI-HAI-WEI.]
A Japanese attains his majority at fifteen years of age. As soon as this
time has arrived he takes a new name, and quietly discards the pleasures
of infancy for the duties of a practical life. His first care, if he
belong to the middle classes, is the choice of a trade or profession.
The opportunities for this choice are much greater than in China, just
as the scope of Japanese learning and life has increased in the last
quarter century. Practically all of the businesses and trades that we
know in our own country are to-day known in Japan, those which were not
there before, having crept in with the advent of the foreigners. The
Japanese young man, if he is to be a merchant or to learn a trade,
serves an apprenticeship for a period sufficient to fit him for the
mastery of his work, and then it is he provides himself with a wife.
The dress of the Japanese is changing in harmony with the introduction
of other foreign habits. Custom has always obliged married women to
shave their eyebrows and blacken their teeth, but of late years the
practice has been decreasing and now it does not prevail among the
better classes and in the larger cities. They have also made a most
immoderate use of paint, covering their brow, cheeks, and neck with
thick coats of rouge and white. Some have even gone so far as to gild
their lips, but the more modest have been content to color them with
carmine, and the excessive use of paints is diminishing.
The kirimon, a kind of long, open dressing gown, is worn by every one,
men and women alike. It is a little longer and of better quality for the
women, who cross it in front and confine it by a long wide piece of
silk, or other material tied in a quaint fashion at the back. The men
keep theirs in its place by tying a long straight scarf around them. The
Japanese use no linen, the women alone wearing a chemise of silk crepe,
but it must be remembered that they bathe daily or even oftener, and
that simplicity of dress is affected by all.
The middle classes wear in addition to the kirimon, a doublet and
pantaloons. These are also worn in winter by men of the lower orders,
the pantaloons fitting tightly, and made of checked cotton. The peasants
and porters usually wear a loose overall in summer, made of some light
paper material, and in winter not unfrequently consisting of coarse
straw. The women also envelop themselves in one or several thickly
wadded mantles. Linen gloves with one division for the thumb are very
generally worn. Sandals are made of plaited straw, and in bad weather
are discarded for wooden clogs, raised from the ground by means of two
bits of wood under the toe and heel. As might naturally be expected,
locomotion under such circumstances is performed with difficulty, and
the hobbling gate which these props necessitate has often been commented
on. This peculiarity is most noticeable among the women, whose naturally
easy gait is almost as much diverted from its normal movement by these
small stilts as that of their sisters in the west by their high heeled
shoes. The costume of the country is exactly alike for both the lower
and higher classes, with the difference that the latter always wear silk
material. The costumes worn by officials, and those of the nobility, are
distinguished by the amplitude of the folds and the richness of the
texture. Wide flowing pantaloons are often substituted for the kirimon,
which trail on the ground, completely concealing the feet, and give the
wearer the appearance of walking on his knees, which indeed is the
delusion it is intended to produce. A kind of overcoat with wide sleeves
reaching to the hips completes the costume.
[Illustration: JAPANESE BATH.]
The dwelling houses of the Japanese are well adapted to their manners of
life, except that they are not always sufficient protection against
severe cold. Rich and poor live side by side, although in Tokio there
are still traces of the castes of the feudal age, and there are also
growing tendencies in the rising mercantile and moneyed classes to
separate themselves from the common mass. There are now great portions
of the capital densely populated by the working classes only, and quite
destitute of any open spaces of practical value for health and
recreation.
The proverb “Every man’s house is his castle,” might very readily be
appropriated by the Japanese, whose home, however humble it may be in
all other respects, is always guarded by a moat. In a feudal mansion the
moat was usually deep enough to prove a genuine obstacle. While it is
still almost universally retained, the muddy water is hidden in summer
time by the leaves of the lotus, and the bridges are not drawn. The
smaller gentry imitate the grandeur of those above them, and when at
last we come down to the lowest level we still find a miniature moat
which is often dry, of a foot or so in breadth, and at most about two
inches deep.
In houses of some pretensions there is an enbankment behind the moat,
with a hedge growing above it. Behind this there is either a wall or
fence of bamboo, tiles, or plaster. As the name of the street is not to
be found at the street corner as with us, it is repeated on every
doorway. The towns are divided into wards and blocks, and the numbers of
the houses are often confused and misleading. A slip of white wood is
nailed on one of the posts of the gate, and is inscribed with the name
of the street or block, the number, name of house holder, numbers and
sexes of household. The gates of the larger houses are heavy, adorned
with copper or brass mountings, and often studded with large nails.
When one enters by the gate there is generally found a court, from the
sides of which the open verandas of the building may be reached. The
verandas are high and there is a special entrance by heavy wooden
stairs. The court is sometimes paved with large stones, and sometimes it
is left bare or covered with turf. The gardens even of somewhat humble
mansions are graced with carved stone lanterns. The well placed near the
kitchen often has a rim of stone around it, and the bucket is raised by
a beam or a long bamboo.
In front of the doorway there is a small space unfloored called the
doma, where one takes off his shoes after announcing himself by calling,
or by striking a gong suspended by the door post. There is often only
one story in Japanese houses, and very rarely more than two. Almost all
of them are built of wood; the ground floor is raised about four feet
above the ground, the walls are made of planks covered with coarse mats;
and the roof is supported by four pillars. In a two-storied house the
second story is generally built more solidly than the first; experience
having shown that the edifice can thus better resist the shock of an
earthquake. Sometimes the walls are plastered with a coating of soft
clay or varnish, and are decorated with gildings and paintings. The
stair to the second story is very steep. The ceilings are composed of
very thin, broad planks, and are lower than we are accustomed to, but it
must be remembered that the people do not sit on chairs and have no high
beds or tables. Doorways, or rather the grooved lintels in which the
screen doors slide, are very low and the Japanese, who are always
bowing, seem to enjoy having an unusual number of them to pass through
in extensive houses. No room is completely walled in, but each one opens
on one or more sides completely into the garden, the street, or the
adjoining room. Sliding shutters, with tissue paper windows, the
carpentry of which is careful and exact, move in wooden grooves almost
on a level with the floor, which is covered with padded woven mats of
rushes. As a protection against the severities of the weather rain
shutters are also used.
All Japanese dwellings have a cheerful, well-cared-for appearance, which
in a great measure is the result of two causes; first, that every one is
bound constantly to renew the paper coverings of the outside panels, and
next that the frequent fires which each time make immense ravages often
render it necessary to reconstruct an entire district. In the interior
the houses are generally divided into two suites of apartments, the one
side being apportioned to the women as private rooms, and the other side
being used for the reception rooms. These apartments are all separated
from one another by partitions made of slight wooden frames, upon which
small square bits of white paper are pasted, or else a kind of screen is
used which can be moved at pleasure and the room enlarged or contracted
according as the occasion requires. Towards nightfall these screens are
usually folded up so as to allow a free passage of air throughout the
house.
The mats of rushes or rice straw which carpet the floors are about three
inches thick, and are soft to the touch. They are of uniform size, about
six feet by three, and this fact dominates all architecture in Japan.
Estimates for building houses and the cutting of wood rest upon this
traditional custom. The inhabitants never soil them with their boots but
always walk barefooted about the house. The mat in Japan answers the
purpose of all ordinary furniture, and takes the place of our chairs,
tables, and beds. For writing purposes only do they use a low round
table about a foot high, which is kept in a cupboard and only brought
out when a letter has to be written. This they do kneeling before the
table, which they carefully put away again when the letter is finished.
The meals are laid upon square tables of very slender dimensions, around
which the whole family gather, sitting on their heels.
[Illustration: JAPANESE COUCH.]
In the walls are recesses with sliding doors into which the bedding is
thrust in the daytime. At bedtime out of these recesses are taken the
soft cotton stuffed mattresses and the thick coverlets of silk or cotton
which have been rolled up all day, and these are spread upon the mats.
The Japanese pillows are of wood, with the upper portions stuffed or
padded, and in form something like a large flat iron. Sometimes each one
contains a little drawer in which the ladies put their hairpins. When a
Japanese has taken off his day garments he rests his head on this wooden
pillow and composes himself to sleep. Everything is put away in the
morning, all the partitions are opened to give air, the mats are
carefully swept, and the now completely empty chamber is transformed
during the day into an office, sitting room, or dining room, to become
again the sleeping apartment the following night.
Clothes are kept in plaited bamboo boxes usually covered with black or
dark green waterproof paper. The furniture is very simple, and there are
often in the best houses no chairs, no tables, no bedsteads. There may
be some low, short-legged side tables of characteristic Japanese pattern
and one or two costly vases or other ornaments, a few pictures which are
changed in deference to guests and seasons, some flowers or dwarf trees
in vases and a lamp or two. There are, however, two pieces of furniture
which are to be found in the houses of every class. These are the
brazier and the pipe box, for the Japanese is a great tea drinker and a
constant smoker. Every hour in the day his hot water must be ready for
him, and the brazier kept burning both day and night both in summer and
winter.
The principal meal takes place about the middle of the day, and after it
the family indulge themselves with several hours’ sleep, so that at this
time the streets are almost deserted. In the evening they have another
meal, and then devote the rest of the time till bedtime to all kinds of
amusements. In the highest Japanese circles the dinner hour is sometimes
enlivened by music from an orchestra stationed in an adjoining room.
In summer a well-planned Japanese house is the very ideal of coolness,
grace and comfort. In winter it is the extreme of misery. There are no
fire-places and there is unmitigated ventilation. People keep themselves
warm by holding themselves close over some morsels of red hot charcoal
in a brazier, and frost bite is very common. At night, when cold winds
blow, a heating apparatus is put beneath the heavy cotton coverlets. It
often gets overturned; a watchman from his ladder-like tower sees afar
off a dull red glow, bells begin to clang, and soon the city is in an
uproar of excitement over another conflagration. In a few hours a great
fan-shaped gap has appeared in the city. One goes at day-break to find
the scene of destruction, but it has already almost disappeared. Crowds
of carpenters have rushed in, and have already done much to erect on the
hot and smoking ruins wooden houses nearly as good as those swept away
by the fire of the night before.
The yashikis or palaces in which the people of rank reside, are nothing
more than ordinary houses grouped together and surrounded by whitewashed
outhouses, with latticed windows of black wood. These outhouses serve a
two-fold purpose, as habitations for the domestics, and as a wall of the
enclosure. Always low, and usually rectangular, they look very much like
warehouses or barracks. The palace of the sovereign has, however, a
certain character of its own. It is a perfect labyrinth of courts and
streets formed by the many separate houses, pavilions, and corridors or
simple wooden partitions. The roofs are supported by horizontal beams
varnished white, or gilded at the extremities, and decorated with small
pieces of sculpture, many of which are very beautiful works of art. The
ancient palace of the Tycoons is remarkable for boldness and richness of
outline. Everything breathes a spirit of the times when the power and
prosperity of the shogunate was at its height. Upon the ceilings of
gold, sculptured beams cross each other in squares, the angles where
they meet being marked by a plate of gilt bronze of very elegant design.
The greatest novelties in the eyes of foreigners are the gardens
attached to every house. The smallest tradesman has his own little plot
of ground where he may enjoy the delights of solitude, take his siesta,
or devote himself to copious potations of tea and saki. These gardens
are often of exceedingly small size. They consist of a quaint collection
of dwarf shrubs, miniature lakes full of gold fish, lilliputian walks in
the middle of diminutive flower beds, tiny streams over which are little
green arches to imitate bridges, and finally arbors or bowers beneath
which a rabbit might scarcely find room to nestle.
The Japanese are as strict in the observance of etiquette at a funeral
as at their marriage ceremonies. The rites take place both at the time
of the actual interment, and afterwards at the festivals celebrated in
honor of the gods on these occasions. There are two kinds of funerals,
interment and cremation. Most of the Japanese make known during life
either to the heir or to some intimate friend their wishes respecting
the mode of the disposal of their remains. When the father or mother in
a family is seized with a mortal illness and all hope of recovery is
past and the end approaching, the soiled garments worn by the dying
person are removed and exchanged for perfectly clean ones. The last
wishes of the dying one are then recorded on paper. As soon as life has
departed all the relations give way to lamentations; the body is carried
into another room, covered with a curtain and surrounded by screens. In
the higher classes the body is watched for two days, but in the lower it
is buried a day after death.
Contrary to the customs at marriage ceremonies, the bonzes or priests
preside over all the funeral rites. It is they who watch beside the dead
until the time for interment. This is usually carried out by men who
make it their profession. The corpse is placed in a coffin, somewhat of
the shape of a round tub, in a squatting position, with the head bowed,
the legs bent under, and the arms crossed; the lid of the coffin is then
fastened down by wooden pegs. The funeral procession proceeds to the
temple, the bonzes marching first, some carrying flags, others different
symbols, such as little white boxes full of flowers, others wringing
small hand-bells. Then follows the corpse, preceded by a long tablet
upon which is inscribed the new name given to the deceased. The eldest
son follows, and then the family, intimate friends, and domestics. The
nearest relations are dressed in white which is the color worn for
mourning.
When the procession arrives at the temple the coffin is placed before
the image of the god and then various ceremonies commence, the length of
which is regulated by the rank of the deceased, as with us. After that
all the friends and acquaintances return home, whilst the relations turn
to the place where the body is to be laid. If the deceased has expressed
the desire that his body should be burned, the coffin is carried from
the temple to a small crematory a short distance away. It is there
placed upon a kind of stone scaffold, at the base of which a fire is
kept burning until the body is consumed. The men employed in this work
draw out the bones from the ashes by means of sticks, the remaining
ashes are placed in an urn, and carried to the tomb by the relations.
The burials of the poor outcasts from society are very simple. The body
is interred at once without entering in the temple, or else it is burnt
in some waste spot.
[Illustration]
SKETCHES IN JAPAN AND COREA.
1. JAPANESE PRIVATE ON GUARD OVER STORES.
2. COREAN FARMER AND COOLIE.
3. JAPANESE OFFICER.
4. LANDING PLACE AT CHEMULPO.
Japanese cemeteries are most carefully cherished spots, and are always
bright with verdure and flowers. Each family has its own little
enclosure, where several simple commemorative stones stand. Once a year
a festival for the dead is held. It is celebrated at night. The cemetery
is illuminated by thousands of colored fires, and the whole population
resort there, and eat, drink, and enjoy themselves in honor of their
dead ancestors.
Their incapacity for conceiving sorrow is one of the most characteristic
features of the Japanese. Perhaps this psychological phenomenon is due
to the influences amidst which this happy people have the privilege of
living. It is an indisputable fact that where nature is bright and
beautiful the inhabitants themselves of that particular spot, like the
scenery, seem to expand under its sweet influence and to become bright
and happy. Such is the case with the Japanese, who while yielding almost
unconsciously to these influences, deepen them by their eager pursuit of
all things gay and beautiful.
Japan is progressive enough that it has a compulsory system of
education, which is sure to be ultimately fatal to idolatrous religions.
There are more than three million children in the elementary schools,
not to mention those in the higher institutions. The ability to read and
write is almost universal among the people. Steady improvement is
observed from year to year, in the attendance and quality of the
government schools. The various schools in connection with the
protestant and Roman missions, which are numerous and influential are
also well attended and constantly growing. A large number also of the
wealthier classes have their children taught privately at home. The
average attendance of the Japanese children at the schools is nearly
one-half the total number of school age. Education is very highly
esteemed by every class, and all are willing to make genuine sacrifices
to obtain it for their children.
Penmanship is laid great stress upon, and there are many different
styles in use. The blackboard is used in all schools now, and the
artistic tendencies of the people are often well displayed on it. The
Arabic numerals are fast displacing the old Chinese system. A great many
of the methods of European and American teaching have been introduced
into Japan, and their use is constantly on the increase.
Universities and academies supported by the government have been chiefly
under the direction of American and European professors, and the western
languages are taught everywhere. In addition to this educational element
introduced into the country, there is that brought in by the large
number of Japanese young men who have been sent to the universities of
the United States, Germany, France, and England to complete their
education. In our own colleges these young men have ranked with the
highest as linguists, scientists, and orators. The influence that they
have exerted in Japan, where they have invariably taken a high position,
either officially or educationally, has been most beneficial to the
advance of learning in the island empire.
The excessive cleanliness of the Japanese, the simplicity of their
apparel, which allows their bodies to be so much exposed to the open
air, added to the salubrity of their country, might reasonably lead one
to imagine that they enjoy excellent health. Such however is not the
case. Diseases of the skin, and chronic and incurable complaints are
very prevalent. The hot baths are the great remedies for everything, but
in certain cases the aid of the physicians is enlisted. These form a
class of society which has existed from a very early date, and enjoy
certain privileges. They are divided into three classes, the court
physicians, who are not permitted to practice elsewhere, the army
physicians, and lastly the common physicians, not employed by the
government, who attend all classes of the community. As no formalities
used to be required for the practice of medicine, each member entered on
the career at his pleasure and practiced according to his own theories
on the subject. It is a profession often handed down from father to son,
but it is not a lucrative one, and is looked upon as an office of little
importance or consideration.
Medical men nevertheless abound in Japan, and in addition to recognized
practitioners, there is a class of quacks exactly answering to those of
our own country. Their science principally partakes of the nature of
sorcery. Where hot baths fail to produce the desired effect, they have
recourse to acupuncture and cauterisation. Acupuncture consists in
pricking with a needle the part affected, a mode of healing which has
been practiced from time immemorial in the east. After the skin has been
stretched sufficiently tight, the needle is thrust in perpendicularly
either by rolling between the fingers or by a direct gentle pressure, or
else by striking it lightly with a small hammer made for the purpose.
[Illustration: GÉISHA GIRLS PLAYING JAPANESE MUSICAL INSTRUMENTS.]
Cauterisation is performed with little cones called moxas, formed of
dried wormwood leaves, and prepared in such a manner as to consume
slowly. One or more of these is applied to the diseased part and set
alight. The mode of cauterising wounds has frequently the effect of
strongly exciting the nervous system, but does not seem to improve the
general health of the patient materially. The national university of
Tokio has a medical department in connection with it, which teaches
medical science according to our own western methods. Hospitals exist in
the large cities of Japan which are similarly equipped to those of our
own country, and are under the direction of physicians and surgeons,
most of whom are either Europeans and Americans, or Japanese who have
been educated in medical colleges abroad. Many young women of Japan have
come to America to take courses in nursing in our great hospitals and
training schools, and on their return to Japan are spreading the
knowledge they have thus gained.
[Illustration: JAPANESE ALPHABET, NEW.]
Music is one of the most cultivated of the fine arts of Japan, and
Japanese tradition accords it a divine origin. The Japanese have many
stringed, wind, and percussion instruments, but the general favorite is
the sam-sin or guitar with three strings. There are also the lutes,
several kinds of drums and tambourines, fifes, clarionets, and
flageolets. The Japanese have no idea of harmony. A number of them will
often perform together, but they are never in tune. They are not more
advanced in melody; their airs recall neither the savage strains of the
forest nor the scientific music of the west. In spite of this their
music has the power of charming them for hours together, and it is only
among the utterly uneducated classes that a young girl is to be found
unable to accompany herself in a song on the sam-sin.
In the department of jurisprudence great progress has been made.
Scarcely any nation on earth can show a more revolting list of horrible
methods of punishment and torture in the past, and none can show greater
improvement in so short a time. The cruel and blood-thirsty code was
mostly borrowed from China. Since the restoration, revised statutes and
regulations have greatly decreased the list of capital punishments,
reformed the condition of prisons, and made legal processes more in
harmony with mercy and justice. The use of torture to obtain testimony
is now entirely abolished. Law schools have also been established and
lawyers are allowed to plead, thus giving the accused the assistance of
counsel for his defense.
[Illustration: JAPANESE ALPHABET, OLD.]
The Japanese tongue has for a long time been regarded merely as an
offshoot of the Chinese language, or at any rate as being very nearly
connected with it. Study however, and the comparison of the two
languages has rectified this error. Japanese understand Chinese writing
because the Chinese characters form part of the numerous kinds in use in
Japan. This is easily understood when it is remembered that Chinese
characters represent neither letters nor meaningless sounds, which are
only the constituent parts of a word, but are words themselves, or
rather the ideas that these words express; consequently the same ideas
can be communicated although expressed by different words to any one who
is acquainted with the signification of the characters. The Japanese
language is very soft and agreeable to the ear, but travelers declare
that no one born out of the country could possibly pronounce some of the
words. They have a system of forty-eight syllabic signs, which can be
doubled by means of signs added to the consonants, which modify the
sound, and render it harder or softer. This system, it is said, dates
from the eighth century and can be written in four different series of
characters.
Japanese literature comprises books on science, biography, geography,
travels, philosophy, and natural history, as well as poetry, dramatic
works, romances, and encyclopedias. The latter seem to be little more
than picture books, with explanatory notes, arranged like other Japanese
dictionaries, sometimes alphabetically, but more often quite fancifully
and without any attempt at scientific classification. The poets of Japan
strive to express the most comprehensive ideas in the fewest possible
words, and to employ words with double meanings for the sake of typical
allusions. They also delight in descriptions or similes furnished by the
scenery, or the rich variety of natural productions with which they are
surrounded.
Of their older books on science none are of any value but those which
treat of astronomy. The proof of their progress in this science is
afforded by the fact that almanacs, which were at first brought from
China, have now become very general and are composed in Japan. The
Japanese, until western education began to have its influence over them,
had only a slight knowledge of mathematics, trigonometry, mechanics, or
engineering. History and geography are very fairly cultivated. Reading
is the favorite recreation of both sexes in Japan. The women confine
themselves to the perusal of romances, and those works on etiquette and
kindred subjects prepared for them. Every young girl who can afford it
has her subscription to a library, which for the sum of a few copper
coins per month furnishes her with as many books, ancient and modern, as
she can devour. Except for their titles, these productions seem all
formed on one pattern. In the choice of their characters and their
subjects the authors seem by no means desirous of breaking through the
narrow limits within which prejudice and custom have confined them.
[Illustration: SHINTO PRIEST.]
The ancient religion of the Japanese is called “Kami no michi,” way, or
doctrine of the gods. The Chinese form of the same is Shinto, and from
this foreigners have called it Shintoism. In its purity the chief
characteristic of this religion is the worship of ancestors and the
deification of emperors, heroes, and scholars. The adoration of the
personified forces of nature enters largely into it. It employs no
idols, images, or effigies in its worship, and teaches no doctrine of
the immortality of the soul. Shinto has no moral code, and no accurately
defined system of ethics or belief. The leading principle of its
adherents is imitation of the illustrious deeds of their ancestors, and
they are to prove themselves worthy of their descent by the purity of
their lives. The priests of Shinto are designated according to their
rank. Sometimes they receive titles from the emperor, and the higher
ranks of the priesthood are court nobles. Ordinarily they dress like
other people, but are robed in white when officiating, or in court dress
when in court. They marry, rear families, and do not shave their heads.
The office is usually hereditary.
After all the research of foreign scholars, many hesitate to decide
whether Shinto is a native Japanese product or whether it is not closely
allied with the ancient religion of China which existed before the
period of Confucius. The weight of opinion inclines to the latter
belief. The Kojiki is the Bible of Shintoism. It is full of narrations,
but it lays down no precepts, teaches no morals or doctrines, prescribes
no ritual. Shinto has very few of the characteristics of a religion as
understood by us. The most learned native commentators and exponents of
the faith expressly maintain the view that Shinto has no moral code.
Motoori, the great modern revivalist of Shinto, teaches with emphasis
that morals were invented by the Chinese because they were an immoral
people, but in Japan there was no necessity for any system of morals, as
every Japanese acted aright if he only consulted his own heart. The duty
of a good Japanese, he says, consists in obeying the commands of the
mikado without questioning whether these commands are right or wrong. It
was only immoral people like the Chinese who presumed to discuss the
character of their sovereign. The opinion of most scholars from America
and Europe, studying Shinto on its own soil, has been that the faith was
little more than an influence for reducing the people to a condition of
mental slavery. Its influence is weakening every year.
The outlines of Buddhism in its Chinese forms have been indicated in a
foregoing chapter. It is well, however, to take another glance at it
here in connection with its Japanese significance. This religion reached
the Japanese empire about the middle of the sixth century after Christ,
twelve centuries after its establishment. Buddhism originated as a pure
atheistic humanitarianism, with a lofty philosophy and a code of morals
higher perhaps than any heathen religion had reached before or has since
attained. First preached in India, a land accursed by secular and
spiritual oppression, it acknowledged no caste and declared all men
equally sinful and miserable, and all equally capable of being freed
from sin and misery through knowledge. It taught that the souls of all
men had lived in a previous state of existence and that all the sorrows
of this life are punishments for sins committed in a previous state.
After death the soul must migrate for ages through stages of life
inferior or superior, until perchance it arrived at last in Nirvana or
absorption in Buddha. The true estate of the human soul, according to
the Buddhist, was blissful annihilation.
[Illustration: JAPANESE TROOPS LANDING AT CHEMULPO. SEPTEMBER 9TH.]
The morals of Buddhism are superior to its metaphysics. Its commandments
are the dictates of the most refined morality. Such was Buddhism in its
early purity. Beside its moral code and philosophical doctrines it had
almost nothing. But in the twelve centuries which passed while it swept
through India, Birmah, Siam, China, Thibet, Manchooria, Corea, and
Siberia, it acquired the apparel with which Asiatic imagination and
priestly necessity had clothed and adorned the original doctrines of
Buddha. The ideas of Buddha had been expanded into a complete
theological system, with all the appurtenances of a stock religion.
Japan was ready for the introduction of any religion as attractive as
Buddhism, for prior to that time nothing existed except Shinto, of which
there was little but the dogma of the divinity of the mikado, the duty
of all Japanese to obey him implicitly, and some Confucian morals.
Buddhism came to touch the heart, to fire the imagination, to feed the
intellect, to offer a code of lofty morals, to point out a pure life
through self-denial, to awe the ignorant, and to terrify the doubting.
With this explanation of the field which Buddhism found and what it
offered, it is sufficient to say that the faith spread with marvelous
rapidity until the Japanese empire was a Buddhist land. This did not
necessarily exclude Shinto from the minds of the same people, and the
two faiths have existed side by side in harmony. Of late years, however,
the Japanese have not only been losing faith in their own religions but
in all others, and to-day they are said by many to form a nation of
atheists. This does not apply to the common people so truly as to the
educated ones, and of course is not nearly as general a truth as has
been often assumed. In no country of Asia has Christianity made such
rapid and permanent advance as in Japan. It is the only oriental country
having a government of its own in which there is absolute freedom in
religious belief and practice, and in which there is no state religion
and no state support.
[Illustration: STREET SCENES.—_From a Japanese Album._]
It has been for years the prophetic declaration of missionaries in the
east that the first nation to extend full liberty of conscience in
religion would be the dominant power of Asia. That Japan has fulfilled
this condition is not more remarkable than are her rapid strides to
political power since that country opened its doors to Christianity.
That Japan is sincere in its treatment of an alien religion is attested
by the fact that native Christian chaplains accompany her armies in
their marches against China, and these are representative men of the
Methodist, Congregational, and Presbyterian churches in Japan. There is
no doubt that the whole Christian element in Japan, foreign and native,
has been loyal to the country and in thorough sympathy with the
aggressive movement made by Japan. The sympathy between Corea and Japan
has been greatly strengthened by the active support rendered
Presbyterian missionaries in Corea by the whole Christian body in Japan.
The work of Mr. Johnson, a Presbyterian missionary in Corea, made him an
adviser of the king, and this assisted in leading the latter rather
towards Japan than towards China. The corner stone of Japan’s position
to-day is religious toleration. All that the Christian missionaries have
asked in Asia is equal privilege with other religions, and these they
have had in Japan. History is only repeating itself, and the results of
religious toleration in Europe centuries ago are being duplicated in
Asia in 1895.
The student of Asiatic life, on coming to Japan, is cheered and pleased
on contrasting the position of women in Japan with that in other
countries. He sees them treated with respect and consideration far above
that observed in other quarters of the Orient. They are allowed greater
freedom, and hence have more dignity and self-confidence. The daughters
are better educated and the national annals will show probably as large
a number of illustrious women as those of any other country in Asia. In
these last days of enlightenment public and private schools for girls
are being opened and attended. Furthermore, some of the leaders of new
Japan, braving public scandal, and learning to bestow that measure of
honor upon their wives which they see is enthusiastically awarded by
foreigners to theirs, and are not ashamed to be seen in public with
them. No women excel the Japanese in that innate love of beauty, order,
neatness, household adornment and management, and the amenities of dress
and etiquette as prescribed by their own standard. In maternal
affection, tenderness, anxiety, patience, and long suffering, the
Japanese mothers need fear no comparison with those in other climes. As
educators of their children, the Japanese women are peers to the mothers
of any civilization in the care and minuteness of their training, and
their affectionate tenderness and self-sacrificing devotion within the
limits of their knowledge. The Japanese maiden is bright, intelligent,
interesting, modest, ladylike, and self-reliant. What the American girl
is in Europe the Japanese maiden is among Asiatics.
So far our attention has been devoted exclusively to the Japanese
proper, that is, to those people inhabiting Hondo and the other islands
to the south of it. But a few words remain to be said about a people,
who, while forming part of the empire of Japan, yet differ essentially
from the great majority of the population. They are the Ainos, or the
original inhabitants of the Japanese archipelago, now only to be found
in the island of Yesso. These people are decreasing in numbers year by
year, and will soon be named with those extinct races of whom it is only
known that they have once existed. The Ainos, however, have had their
day of glory. In olden times, several centuries before our era, they
were masters of all the north part of the island of Hondo, and their
power equalled that of the Japanese; but little by little their
influence diminished, and they were driven before the Japanese, and
finally confined to the island of Yesso. There the Japanese pursued them
and a long war ensued, but finally reduced them to complete submission
about the fourteenth century. Since then the state of servitude in which
their conquerors have held them has been such as to stifle even the
instinct of progress within them, so that in the nineteenth century they
offer the image of a people hardly past its first infancy.
[Illustration: GROUP OF AINOS.]
The origin of the Ainos is unknown. They themselves are perfectly
ignorant of their own history, and they have no written documents
existing which could throw light upon their past. It is most probable
that they originally came from the far interior of the Asiatic
continent, for they bear not the slightest resemblance to any of their
neighbors in the tribes scattered along the eastern coasts of the north
of Asia. The Ainos are generally small, thick-set, and awkwardly formed;
they have wide foreheads and black eyes, not sloping; their skin is fair
but sunburnt. Their distinguishing feature is their hairiness, and they
never dress their heads or trim their beards. The little children have a
bright, intelligent look, which, however, gradually wears away as they
grow older. The dwellings are of the simplest construction, and only
contain a few implements for hunting and fishing, and some cooking
utensils. They are built in small groups or hamlets, never containing
more than a hundred individuals. They are a gentle, kindly, hospitable,
and even timid people. Fishing is their chief occupation, and hunting is
another profitable pursuit. There is no sign of agriculture, nor is any
breed of cattle to be found among these people. Dogs are utilized to
draw their sledges in winter. Their organization is quite patriarchal.
They have neither king, princes nor lords, but in every hamlet the
affairs of the community are vested in the hands of the oldest and most
influential member. Although the intelligence of the Ainos is very
little developed, they evince great aptitude for knowledge and eagerly
seize every opportunity for acquainting themselves with Japanese laws
and customs.
[Illustration: RATS AS RICE MERCHANTS.—_From a Japanese Album._]
The London Times, in 1859, predicted that “The Chinaman would still be
navigating the canals of his country in the crazy old junks of his
ancestors when the Japanese was skimming along his rivers in high
pressure steamers, or flying across the country behind a locomotive.”
The railway is now in fact stretching its iron tracks in every direction
over the islands; the telegraph spreads its web all over the country;
street car lines are in every city; the printing press rattles merrily
in every moderate sized country town; and the Japanese who have always
read much, now read ten times more than they ever did before. Technical
education of the higher kind is telling upon the people, and many works
are now undertaken from which the authorities would have shrunk a few
years ago as being impossible for them to grapple with. Original
investigation in many lines has been pursued, and particularly in the
study of earthquake phenomena has Japan given to the world results of
extreme value. The influence of the modern scientific spirit is immense
and ever growing. Western influence in its better nature is constantly
on the increase. It appears to-day as if Japan were to be the civilizing
influence in the east of Asia.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
_COREA_
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: COREAN LANDSCAPE.]
[Illustration: RAW LEVIES FOR THE CHINESE ARMY.]
HISTORICAL SKETCH OF COREA, THE HERMIT NATION.
--------------
Aboriginal Inhabitants of the Land—Founding the Kingdom of
Cho-sen—The Era of the Three Kingdoms—Dependence on China and
Japan—Period of Peace and Prosperity—Invasion of Corea by the
Japanese in the Sixteenth Century—Introduction of Christianity—The
Modern History of Corea—Breaking down the Walls of Isolation—The
French Expedition—American Relations with Corea—Ports Opened to
Japanese Commerce—The Year of the Treaties—A Hermit Nation no
Longer.
Until recent years our knowledge of the remarkable country of Corea,
known indeed to the general public by little more than its name, has
been limited to the meagre and scanty information imparted to us by
Chinese and Japanese sources. After having been for several thousands of
years the scene of sanguinary and murderous feuds between the various
races and tribes who peopled the peninsula, and of the intrigues and
wars of conquest of its rapacious neighbors, Corea succeeded after its
final union under the sway of one ruler, but with considerable loss of
territory, in driving back the invaders behind its present frontiers,
enforcing since that time with an iron rule, that policy of exclusion
which effectually separated it from the whole outer world. Corea, though
unknown even by name in Europe until the sixteenth century, was the
subject of description by Arab geographers of the middle ages. The Arab
merchants trading to Chinese ports crossed the Yellow Sea, visited the
peninsula, and even settled there. The youths of Shinra, one the Corean
states, sent by their sovereign to study the arts of war and peace at
Nanking, the mediæval capital of China, may often have seen and talked
with the merchants of Bagdad and Damascus.
As has been said, nearly all that the western world was able to learn
about Corea until recent years, has been collected from Chinese and
Japanese sources, which confine themselves mainly to the historical and
political connection with these countries. The meagre early accounts
owed to Europeans on this interesting subject, originate either from
shipwrecked mariners who have been cast upon the inhospitable shores of
Corea and there been kept imprisoned for some time, or from navigators
who have extended their voyages of discovery to these distant seas and
who have touched a few prominent points of the coast.
Like almost every country on earth, Corea is inhabited by a race that is
not aboriginal. The present occupiers of the land drove out or conquered
the people whom they found upon it. They are the descendants of a stock
who came from beyond the northern frontier. It may not be a wrong
conjecture, which is corroborated by many outward signs, to look for the
origin of the people in Mongolia, in a tribe which finally settled down
in Corea after roaming about and fighting its way through China. We may
also take those who bear the unmistakable stamp of the Caucasian race to
have come from Western Asia whence they had been driven by feuds and
revolutions. At the conclusion of the long wars which have at last led
to the union of the different states founded by various tribes, a
partial fusion had taken place, which, though it has not succeeded in
eradicating the outer signs of a different descent, at least caused the
adoption of one language and of the same manners and customs.
Most of the Coreans claim to be in complete darkness and ignorance of
their own origin; some declare quite seriously that their ancestors have
sprung from a black cow on the shores of the Japan sea, while others
ascribe their origin to a mysterious and supernatural cause.
The first mention of the inhabitants of Corea we find in old Chinese
chronicles about 2350 B.C., at which period some of the northern tribes
are reported to have entered into a tributary connection with China. The
first really reliable accounts, however, commence only with the twelfth
century B.C., at which time the north-westerly part of the peninsula
first stands out from the dark.
The last Chinese emperor of the Shang dynasty was Chow Sin, who died
B.C. 1122. He was an unscrupulous tyrant, and one of his nobles, Ki
Tsze, rebuked and remonstrated with his sovereign. His efforts were
hopeless, and the nobles who joined him in protest were executed. Ki
Tsze was cast into prison. A revolt immediately ensued against the
tyrant; he was defeated and killed, and the conqueror Wu Wang released
the prisoner and appointed him prime minister. Ki Tsze however refused
to serve one whom he believed to be an usurper and exiled himself to the
regions lying to the north-east. With him went several thousand Chinese
immigrants, most the remnant of the defeated army, who made him their
king. Ki Tsze reigned many years and left the newly founded state in
peace and prosperity to his successors. He policed the borders, gave
laws to his subjects, and gradually introduced the principles and
practices of Chinese etiquette and polity throughout his domain.
Previous to his time the people lived in caves and holes in the ground,
dressed in leaves, and were destitute of manners, morals, agriculture
and cooking. The Japanese pronounce the founder’s name Kishi, and the
Coreans Kei-tsa or Kysse. The name conferred by the civilizer upon his
new domain was that now in use by the modern Coreans, “Cho-sen,” or
“Morning Calm.”
The descendants of Ki Tsze are said to have ruled the country until the
fourth century before the Christian era. Their names and deeds are alike
unknown, but it is stated that there were forty-one generations, making
a blood line of eleven hundred and thirty-one years. The line came to an
end in 9 A.D., though they had lost power long before that time.
This early portion of Cho-sen did not contain all of the territory of
the modern Corea, but only the north-western portion of it. While the
petty kingdoms of China were warring among one another, the nearest to
Cho-sen encroached upon it and finally seized the colony. This was not
to be permanent however, and there ensued a series of wars, each force
becoming alternately successful. The territory of Cho-sen grew in area
and the kingdom increased in wealth, power and intelligence under the
rule of King Wie-man, who assumed the authority 194 B.C. Thousands of
Chinese gentry fleeing before the conquering arms of the Han usurpers
settled within the limits of the new kingdom, adding greatly to its
prosperity. In 107 B.C., after a war that had lasted one year, a Chinese
invading army finally conquered the kingdom of Cho-sen and annexed it to
the Chinese empire. The conquered territory included the north half of
the present kingdom of Corea.
Things remained in this condition until about 30 B.C., at which time a
part of Cho-sen taking advantage of the disorders which had broken out
afresh in China, separated itself from the empire and again formed a
state by itself, but still remained tributary; while the other portions
of the old kingdom for some time longer remained under Chinese rule,
until they also joined the portion that had been freed. Up to this
period Cho-sen forming the north-west of the present Corea, had been the
only part of that country that had become more closely connected with
China. The tracts to the north-east, south-west and south were occupied
by different independent tribes, and little more is known of them than
that they were ruled by chiefs of their own clan. In course of time
three kingdoms, Korai, Hiaksai, and Shinra, were formed out of these
various elements, subsisting by the side of Cho-sen, at a later date
fighting either beside or against China, and almost incessantly at feud
with each other, until Shinra gained the predominance about the middle
of the eighth century A.D. and kept the same up to the sixteenth
century. It was then supplanted in the leading position by Korai, which
united under its supremacy all those parts of Corea which had hitherto
been separate, and constituted the whole into a single state. Like the
three kingdoms of England, Scotland and Wales, these Corean states were
distinct in origin, were conquered by a race from without, received a
rich infusion of alien blood, struggled in rivalry for centuries, and
were finally united under one nation with one flag and one sovereign.
Hiaksai was for a while the leading state in the peninsula. Buddhism was
introduced from Thibet in 384 A.D. And to this state more than any other
part of Corea, Japan owes her first impulses towards the civilization of
the west. The kingdom prospered until the decade from 660 to 670, when
it was overrun and practically annihilated by an army of Chinese,
despite the aid of four hundred junks and a large body of soldiers sent
from Japan to the aid of Corea.
Korai of course took its turn in struggling with the Dragon of China.
Early in the seventh century China had been defeated, and for a
generation peace prevailed. But the Chinese coveted Koraian territory
and again an invading fleet attacked the country. It took years to
complete the conquest, but finally all Korai with its five provinces,
its one and seventy-six cities and its four or five millions of people,
was annexed to the Chinese empire.
Shinra, in the south-west of the peninsula, was probably the most
advanced of all of the states. It was from this kingdom that the
tradition reached Japan which tempted the Amazonian queen of Japan,
Jingo, to her invasion and conquest. The king of Shinra submitted and
became a declared vassal of Japan, but in all probability Shinra was far
superior to the Japan of that early day in everything except strength.
From this kingdom came a stream of immigrants which passed into Japan
carrying all sorts of knowledge and an improved civilization. It is well
to remember from this point that the Japanese always laid claim to the
Corean peninsula and to Shinra especially as a tributary nation. They
supported that claim not only whenever embassies from the two nations
met at the court of China, but they made it a more or less active part
of their national policy.
During this period Buddhism was being steadily propagated, learning and
literary progress increased, while art, science, architecture were all
favored and improved. Kion-chiu, the capital of Shinra, was looked upon
as a holy city, even after the decay of Shinra’s power. Her noble
temples, halls and towers stood in honor and repair, enshrining the
treasures of India, Persia, and China, until the ruthless Japanese torch
laid them in ashes in 1596.
From the year 755 A.D. up to the beginning of the tenth century, Shinra
maintained its undisputed rule over the other countries of the
peninsula, but about this time successive revolts occurred, Shinra was
conquered, and the three kingdoms now united were called Korai, a name
which was retained to the end of the fourteenth century. The kingdoms
now thoroughly subdued, never recovered their old position and
independence, and composed from that time forward the undivided kingdom
of Corea, such as it has been maintained until the present day. In 1218
A.D. the king of Corea promised allegiance to the Chinese emperor
Taitsou who was the Mongol Genghis Khan.
Here we find explanation for some features of the war now in progress
between China and Japan. Corea has at various times acknowledged its
dependence upon both of these countries. The Japanese laid claim to
Corea from the second century until the 27th of February, 1876. On that
day the mikado’s minister plenipotentiary signed the treaty recognizing
Cho-sen as an independent nation. Through all the seventeen centuries,
which according to their annals elapsed since their armies first
completed the vassalage of their neighbor, the Japanese regarded the
states of Corea as tributaries. Time and again they enforced their claim
with bloody invasion, and when through a more enlightened policy the
rulers voluntarily acknowledged their former enemy as an equal, the
decision cost Japan almost immediately afterward seven months of civil
war, twenty thousand lives, and $50,000,000 in treasury. The mainspring
of the “Satsuma rebellion” of 1877 was the official act of friendship by
treaty, and the refusal of the Tokio government to make war on Corea. It
seemed until 1877 almost impossible to eradicate from the military mind
of Japan the conviction that to surrender Corea was cowardice and a
stain upon the national honor.
From the ninth century onward to the sixteenth century, the relations of
the two countries seem to be unimportant. Japan was engaged in
conquering northward her own barbarians. Her intercourse, both political
and religious, grew to be so direct with the court of China, that Corea
in the Japanese annals sinks out of sight except at rare intervals.
Nihon increased in wealth and civilization, while Cho-sen remained
stationary or retrograded. In the nineteenth century the awakened
“Sunrise Kingdom” has seen her former self in the “Land of Morning
Calm,” and has stretched forth willing hands to do for her neighbor now
what Corea did for Japan in centuries long gone by. It must never be
forgotten that Corea was the bridge on which civilization crossed from
China to the archipelago.
About 1368 the reigning King of Corea refused vassalage to China. His
troops refused to repel the invasion that threatened, and under their
General Ni Taijo, deposed the king. Taijo himself was nominated king. He
paid homage to the Chinese emperor and revived the ancient name of
Cho-sen. The dynasty thus established is still the reigning family in
Corea, though the direct line came to an end in 1864. The Coreans in
their treaty with Japan in 1876, dated the document according to the
four hundred and eighty-fourth year of Cho-sen, reckoning from the
accession of Ni Taijo to the throne. One of the first acts of the new
dynasty was to change the location of the national capital to the city
of Han Yang, situated on the Han river about fifty miles from its mouth.
The king enlarged the fortifications, enclosed the city with a wall of
masonry, and built bridges, renaming the city Seoul or “capital.” He
also redivided the kingdom into eight provinces which still remain. An
era of peace and flourishing prosperity ensued, and in everything the
influence of the Chinese emperors is most manifest. Buddhism, which had
penetrated into every part of the country, and had become in a measure
at least the religion of the state, was now set aside and
disestablished. The Confucian ethics were diligently studied and were
incorporated into the religion of the state. From the early part of the
fifteenth century, Confucianism flourished, until it reached the point
of bigotry and intolerance, so that when Christianity was discovered to
be existing among the people, it was put under the ban of extirpation,
and its followers thought worthy of death.
[Illustration: PAGODA AT SEOUL.]
[Illustration: COREAN SOLDIERS.]
At first the new dynasty sent tribute regularly to the shogun of Japan,
but as intestinal war troubled the Island Empire and the shoguns became
effeminate, the Coreans stopped their tribute and it was almost
forgotten. The last embassy from Seoul was sent in 1460. After that they
were never summoned, so they never came. Under the idea that peace was
to last forever, the nation relaxed all vigilance; the army was
disorganized and the castles were fallen into ruin. It was while the
country was in such a condition that the summons of Japan’s great
conqueror came to them, and the Coreans learned for the first time of
the fall of Ashikaga and the temper of their new master.
As the Mongol conquerors issuing from China had used Corea as their
point of departure to invade Japan, so Hideyoshi resolved to make the
peninsula the road for his armies into China. He sent an envoy to Seoul
to demand tribute, and then, angered at the utter failure of his
mission, commanded the envoy and all his family to be put to death. A
second ambassador was sent with more success, and presents and envoys
were exchanged. Hideyoshi, however, became enraged at the indifference
of the Coreans to assist him in his dealings with China, and resolved to
humble the peninsular kingdom, and China, her overlord.
[Illustration: FIGHTING BEFORE THE GATE OF SEOUL.]
The invasion of Corea was made as related in the earlier chapters on
Japan. The Coreans were poorly prepared for war, both as to leaders,
soldiers, equipments and fortifications. The Japanese swept everything
like a whirlwind before them, and entered the capital within eighteen
days after their landing at Fusan. The accounts of the war are preserved
in detail, and are exceedingly interesting, but the limits of this
volume compel their omission to provide space for the war of 1894-5. At
first Chinese armies coming to reinforce the Coreans were defeated and
turned back, but another effort of the allies was more effective and the
Japanese troops found advance turned to retreat. The Japanese armies
concentrated at Seoul to receive the advance of the allies numbering
some two hundred thousand. The capital was burned by the Japanese,
nearly every house being destroyed, and hundreds of men, women, and
children, sick and well, living quietly there, were massacred. The
allied troops were beaten back in a ferocious battle, but hunger reached
both armies, pestilence entered the Japanese camp, and both sides were
utterly tired of war and ready to consider terms of peace.
[Illustration: OLD MAN IN COREA.]
Konishi, the general of the Japanese army, had been converted to
Christianity by the Portuguese Jesuits. During this period of tiresome
waiting he sent to the superior of the missions in Japan asking for a
priest. In response to this request came Father Gregorio de Cespedes and
a Japanese convert. These two holy men began their labors among the
Japanese armies, preaching from camp to camp, and administering the
right of baptism to thousands of converts, but their work was stopped by
the jealousy of the Buddhist power. The Jesuits in Japan were then being
expelled for their political machinations, and the chaplains in Corea
were brought under the same ban. Konishi was called back to Japan with
the priest and was unable to convince the shogun of his innocence. A few
Corean converts were made during this time, and one of them a lad of
rank, was afterward educated in the Jesuit seminary at Kioto. He
endeavored to return to Corea as a missionary, but the condition of
affairs in Japan interrupted his intentions and in 1625 he was martyred
during the prosecutions of the Christians. Of the large number of Corean
prisoners sent over to Japan, many became Christians. Hundreds of others
were sold as slaves to the Portuguese. Others rose to positions of honor
under the government or in the households of the daimios. Many Corean
lads were adopted by the returned soldiers or kept as servants. When the
bloody persecution broke out, by which many thousand Japanese found
death, the Corean converts remained steadfast to their Christian faith,
and suffered martyrdom with fortitude equal to that of their Japanese
brethren. But by the army in Corea, or by the Christian chaplain
Cespedes, no trace of Christianity was left in the land of Morning Calm,
and it was two centuries later before that faith was really introduced.
The fortunes of the war alternated, and finally, after deeds of heroism
on both sides, a period of inaction ensued, the result of exhaustion. At
this time Hideyoshi fell sick and died, September 9, 1598, at the age of
sixty-three years. Almost his last words were, “Recall all my troops
from Cho-sen.” The orders to embark for home were everywhere gladly
heard. It is probable that the loss of life in the campaigns of this war
was nearly a third of a million. Thus ended one of the most needless,
unprovoked, cruel, and desolating wars that ever cursed Corea. More than
two hundred thousand human bodies were decapitated to furnish the
ghastly material for the “ear-tomb” mound in Kioto. More than one
hundred and eighty-five thousand Corean heads were gathered for
mutilation, and thirty thousand Chinese, all of which were despoiled of
ears and noses. It is probable that fifty thousand Japanese left their
bones in Corea.
Since the invasion the town of Fusan, as before, had been held and
garrisoned by the retainers of the Daimio of Tsushima. At this port all
the commerce between the two nations took place. From an American point
of view, there was little trade done between the two countries, but on
the strength of even this small amount Earl Russell in 1862 tried to get
Great Britain included as a co-trader between Japan and Corea. He was
not, however, successful. A house was built at Nagasaki by the Japanese
government which was intended as a refuge for Coreans who might be
wrecked on Japanese shores. Wherever the waifs were picked up, they were
sent to Nagasaki and sheltered until a junk could be dispatched to
Fusan.
The possession of Fusan by the Japanese was, until 1876, a perpetual
witness of the humiliating defeat of the Coreans in the war of
1592-1597, and a constant irritation to their national pride. Yet with
all the miseries inflicted on her, the humble nation learned rich
lessons, and gained many an advantage even from her enemy. The embassies
which were yearly dispatched to yield homage to their late invaders were
at the expense of the latter. The Japanese pride purchased the empty
bubble of homage by paying all the bills.
The home of the Manchoos was on the north side of the Ever-white
mountains. From beyond these mountains was to roll upon China and Corea
another avalanche of invasion. By the sixteenth century the Manchoos had
become so strong that they openly defied the Chinese. Formidable
expeditions previous to the Japanese invasion of Corea kept them at bay
for a time, but the immense expenditure of life and treasure required to
fight the Japanese drained the resources of the Ming emperors, while
their attention being drawn away from the north, the Manchoo hordes
massed their forces and grew daily in strength. To repress the rising
power in the north, and to smother the life of the young nation, the
Peking government resorted to barbarous cruelties and stern coercion.
Unable to protect the eastern border of Liao Tung the entire population
of three hundred thousand souls, dwelling in four cities and many
villages, were removed westward and resettled on new lands. Fortresses
were planned in the deserted land to keep back the restless cavalry
raiders from the north. Thus the foundation of the neutral strip of
fifty miles was unconsciously laid, and ten thousand square miles of
fair and fertile land west of the Yalu were abandoned to the wolf and
tiger. What it soon became it remained until yesterday—a howling
wilderness.
In 1615 the king of the Manchoo tribes was assassinated as the result of
a plot by the Ming emperor. This exasperated the tribes to vengeance and
they began hostilities. China now had to face another great invasion.
Calling on her vassal, Corea, to send an army of twenty thousand men,
she ordered them to join the imperial army about seventy miles west of
the Yalu River. In the battle which ensued the Coreans were the first to
face the Manchoos. The imperial legions were beaten, and the Coreans
seeing which way the victory would turn, deserted from the Chinese side
to that of their enemy. This was in 1619. Enraged by alternate treachery
to both sides from the Coreans, the Manchoos invaded Corea in 1627, to
which time the war had been prolonged. They crossed the frozen Yalu in
February, and at once attacked and defeated the Chinese army. They then
began the march to Seoul. Town after town was taken as they pressed
onward to the capital, the Coreans everywhere flying before them.
Thousands of dwellings and stores of provisions were given to the flames
and their trail was one of blood and ashes. After the siege of Seoul
began, the king sent tribute offerings to the invaders, and concluded a
treaty of peace, by which Corea again exchanged masters, this time
confessing subjection to the Manchoo sovereign. As soon as the invading
army had withdrawn, the Corean king, confident that the Chinese would be
ultimately successful over the Manchoos, annulled the treaty. No sooner
were the Manchoos able to spare their forces for the purpose than they
again marched into Corea and overran the peninsula.
The king now came to terms, and in February, 1637, utterly renounced his
allegiance to the Ming emperor, gave his two sons as hostages, and
promised to send an annual embassy with tribute to the Manchoo court.
After the evacuation of Corea the victors marched into China, where
bloody civil war was raging. The imperial army of China had been beaten
by the rebels. The Manchoos joined their forces with the imperialists
and defeated the rebels, and then demanded the price of their victory.
Entering Peking they proclaimed the downfall of the house of Ming. The
son of the late king was set upon the dragon throne, and as we have seen
in a foregoing chapter the royal house of China came to be a Manchoo
family.
When, as it happened the very next year, the shogun of Japan demanded an
increase of tribute to be paid in Yeddo, the court of Seoul plead in
excuse their wasted resources, consequent upon the war with the
Manchoos, and their heavy burdens newly laid upon them in the way of
tribute to their conqueror. Their excuse was accepted. Twice within a
single generation had the little peninsula been devastated by mighty
invasion that laid waste the country.
[Illustration: COAST NEAR CHEMULPO.]
In 1650 a captive Corean maid, taken prisoner in their first invasion,
became sixth lady in rank in the imperial Manchoo household. Through her
influence her father, the ambassador, obtained a considerable reduction
of the annual tribute that had been fixed by treaty. Other portions of
the tribute had been remitted before, so that by this time the tax upon
Corean loyalty became very slight, and the embassy became one of
ceremony rather than a tribute bringing.
In the seventeenth century some information about Corea began to reach
Europe, first from the Jesuits in Peking, who sent home a map of the
peninsula. There is also a map of Corea in a work by the Jesuit Martini,
published in 1649 in Amsterdam. The Cossacks who overran northern Asia
brought reports of Corea to Russia, and it was from Russian sources that
Sir John Campbell obtained the substance of his history of Corea. In
1645 a party of Japanese crossed the peninsula, and one of them on his
return wrote a book descriptive of their journey. In 1707 the Jesuits in
Peking began their great geographical enterprise, the survey of the
Chinese empire, including the outlying vassal kingdoms. A map of Corea
was obtained from the king’s palace at Seoul and sent to Europe to be
engraved and printed. From this original most of the maps and supposed
Corean names in books published since that time have been copied.
The first known entrance of any number of Europeans into Corea was that
of Hollanders belonging to the crew of the Dutch ship Hollandra which
was driven ashore in 1627. Coasting along the Corean shores, John
Wetterree and some companions went ashore to get water, and were
captured by the natives. The magnates of Seoul probably desired to have
a barbarian from the west, as useful to them as was the Englishman Will
Adams to the Japanese in Yeddo, where the Corean ambassadors had often
seen him. This explains why Wetterree was treated with kindness and
comparative honor, though kept as a prisoner. When the Manchoos invaded
Corea in 1635, his two companions were killed in the war, and Wetterree
was left alone. Having no one with whom he could converse he had almost
forgotten his native speech, when after twenty-seven years of exile, in
the fifty-ninth year of his age, he met some of his fellow Hollanders,
and acted as interpreter to the Coreans.
In the summer of 1653 the Dutch ship Sparwehr was cast on shore on
Quelpaert island, off the southwest coast of Corea. The local magistrate
did what he could for the thirty-six members of the crew who reached the
shore alive, out of the sixty-four on board. On October 29th the
survivors were brought by the officials to be examined by the
interpreter Wetterree. The latter was very rusty in his native language,
but regained it in a month. Of course the first and last idea of the
captives was how to escape. They made one effort to reach the sea shore,
but were caught and severely punished, after which they were ordered to
proceed to the capital. Wherever they went the Dutchmen were like wild
beasts on exhibition. When they once reached the palace they were well
treated, and were assigned to the body guard of the king as petty
officers. Each time that the Manchoo envoy made his visit to the capital
the captives endeavored to enlist his sympathy and begged to be taken to
Peking, but all such efforts resulted in failure and punishment. The
suspicions of the government were aroused by the studies which the
Dutchmen pursued, of the climate, the topography, and the products of
the country, and by their attempts to escape, and in 1663 they were
separated and put into three different towns. By this time fourteen of
the number were dead and twenty-two remained.
Finally, early in September 1667, as their fourteenth year of captivity
was drawing to a close, the Dutchmen escaped to the seacoast, bribed a
Corean to give them his fishing craft, and steered out into the open
water. A few days later, they reached the northwestern islands in the
vicinity of Kiushiu, Japan, and landed. The Japanese treated them kindly
and sent them to Nagasaki, where they met their countrymen at Desima.
The annual ship from Batavia was then just about to return, and in the
nick of time the waifs got on board, reached Batavia, sailed for
Holland, and in July, 1668, stepped ashore at home. Hendrik Hamel, the
supercargo of the ship, wrote a book on his return recounting his
adventures in a simple and straightforward style. It has been translated
into English and is a model work of its sort.
The modern introduction of Christianity in Corea dates little more than
a hundred years ago. Some Corean students studying with the famous
Confucian professor Kwem, during the winter of 1777, entered into
discussion of some tracts on philosophy, mathematics, and religion just
brought from Peking. These were translations of the writings of the
Jesuits in the imperial capital. Surprised and delighted, they resolved
to attain if possible to a full understanding of the new doctrines. They
sought all the information that they could from Peking. The leader in
this movement was a student named Stonewall. As his information
accumulated, he gave himself up to fresh reading and meditation, and
then began to preach. Some of his friends in the capital, both nobles
and commoners, embraced the new doctrines with cheering promptness and
were baptized. Thus from small beginnings, but rapidly, were the
Christian ideas spread.
But soon the power of the law and the pen were invoked to crush out the
exotic faith. The first victim was tried on the charge of destroying his
ancestral tablets, tortured, and sent into exile, in which he soon after
died. The scholars now took up weapons, and in April, 1784, the king’s
preceptor issued the first public document officially directed against
Christianity. In it all parents and relatives were entreated to break
off all relations with Christians. The names of the leaders were
published, and the example of Thomas Kim, the first victim, was cited.
Forthwith began a violent pressure upon the believers to renounce their
faith. Then began an exhibition alike of steadfast faith and shameful
apostasy, but though even Stonewall lapsed, the work went on. The next
few years of Christianity were important ones. The leaders formed an
organization and as nearly as they could on the lines of the Roman
Catholic church. Instructions were sent from Peking by the priests
there, and the worship in Corea became quite in harmony with that of the
Western church. But the decision that the worship of ancestors must be
abolished, was, in the eyes of the Corean public, a blow at the
framework of society and state, and many feeble adherents began to fall
away. December 8, 1791, Paul and Jacques Kim were decapitated for
refusing to recant their Christian faith. Thus was shed the first blood
for Corean Christianity. Martyrdom was frequent in this early history of
the Christian church in Corea, but in the ten years following the
baptism of Peter in Peking in 1783, in spite of persecution and
apostasy, it is estimated that there were four thousand Christians in
the peninsula.
The first attempt of a foreign missionary to enter the Hermit Kingdom
from the west was made early in 1791. This was a Portuguese priest who
endeavored to cross the Yalu River to join some native Christians, but
was disappointed in meeting them and returned to Peking. Two years later
a young Chinese priest entered the forbidden territory, and was hidden
for three years in the house of a noble woman, where he preached and
taught. Three native Christians who refused to reveal his whereabouts
were tortured to death and were thrown into the Han River. From the
beginning of this century the most bitter general persecutions against
Christians was enforced. The young Chinese priest, learning that he was
outlawed, surrendered himself to relieve his friends of the
responsibility of protecting him, and was executed. The woman also who
had so long sheltered him was beheaded. Four other women who were
attendants in the palace, and an artist who was condemned for painting
Christian subjects were beheaded near the “Little Western Gate” of
Seoul. The policy of the government was shown in making away with the
Christians of rank and education who might be able to direct affairs in
the absence of the foreign priests, and in letting the poor and humble
go free.
It is impossible to catalogue the martyrs and the edicts against
Christianity. The condition of the Christians scattered in the mountains
and forests, suffering poverty, hunger, and cold, was most deplorable.
In 1811 the Corean converts addressed letters to the Pope begging aid in
their distress. These however could not be answered in the way they
desired, for the Pope himself was then a prisoner at Fontainebleau and
the Roman propaganda was nearly at a standstill.
[Illustration: COREAN MANDARINS.]
In 1817 the king and court were terrified by the appearance off the west
coast of the British vessels Alceste and Lyra, but beyond some surveys,
purchases of provisions, and interviews with some local magistrates, the
foreigners departed without opening communication with them. Fifteen
years later the British ship Lord Amherst passed along the coasts of
Chulla, seeking commercial connections. On board was a Protestant
missionary, a Prussian. He landed on several of the islands and
attempted to gain some acquaintance with the people, but made little
progress. The year 1834 closed the first half century of Corean
Christianity. It is not strange that persecutions resulted from the
advance of Roman Catholic strength in Corea, for the Corean Christians
assumed naturally the righteousness of the Pope’s claim to temporal
power as the vicar of heaven. The Corean Christians not only deceived
their magistrates and violated their country’s laws, but actually
invited armed invasion. Hence, from the first, Christianity was
associated in patriotic minds with treason and robbery.
After the restoration of the Bourbons in France and the strengthening of
the Papal throne by foreign bayonets, the missionary zeal in the church
was kindled afresh, and it was resolved to found a mission in Corea. The
first priest to make entrance was Pierre Philibert Maubant, who reached
Seoul in 1836, the first Frenchman who had penetrated the Hermit Nation.
A few months later another joined him, and in December, 1838, Bishop
Imbert ran the gauntlet of wilderness, ice, and guards at the frontier,
and took up his residence under the shadow of the king’s palace. Work
now went on vigorously, and in 1838 the Christians numbered nine
thousand. At the beginning of the next year the party in favor of
extirpating Christianity having gained the upper hand, another
persecution broke out with redoubled violence. To stay the further
shedding of blood, Bishop Imbert and his two priests came out of their
hiding places and delivered themselves up. They were horribly tortured,
and decapitated September 21, 1839. Six bitter years passed before the
Christians again had a foreign pastor.
Since 1839 the government had tripled its vigilance and doubled the
guards on the frontier. The most strenuous efforts to pass the barriers
repeatedly failed. Andrew Kim is a name to be remembered in the history
of Christianity in Corea. Year after year he worked to enter Corea, or
once in, to advance the cause, or when rejected to help others in the
work. He was ordained to the priesthood in Shanghai, and finally in
company with two French priests, in September, 1845, sailed across the
Yellow Sea, and landed on the coast of Chulla, to make his final effort
to spread Christianity among the Coreans. During July of the same year,
the British ship Samarang was engaged in surveying off Quelpaert and the
south coast of Corea. Beacon fires all over the land telegraphed the
news of the presence of foreign ships, and the close watch that was kept
by the coast magistrates made the return of Andrew Kim doubly dangerous.
These records of perseverance, of distress, of martyrdom, from the pages
of missionary work in Corea, written in the blood of native converts,
who bore their cross with equal bravery to that of the Roman fathers,
may be surprising to some who have been unfamiliar with the history of
the Corean peninsula. But they are convincing testimony to controvert
the assertions of some incredulous ones who affirm that the “heathen”
are never really Christianized, but are always ready to return to their
idols in times of trial. There is no country that can show braver
examples of fortitude, in enduring trial for the support of the faith,
than the “Hermit Nation.”
Three priests in disguise were now secretly at work in Corea, Andrew
Kim, a native convert, and the Frenchmen, Bishop Ferreol, and his
companion Daveluy. Kim was captured and in company with half a dozen
others was executed September 16th. While he was in prison the Bishop
heard of three French ships which were at that time vainly trying to
find the mouth of the Han River and the channel to the capital. Ferreol
wrote to Captain Cecile, who commanded the fleet, but the note arrived
too late and Kim’s fate was sealed. The object of the fleet’s visit was
to demand satisfaction for the murder of the two French priests in 1889,
but after some coast surveys were made and a threatening letter was
dispatched the ships withdrew.
During the summer of 1845, two French frigates set sail for the Corean
coast, and August 10th went aground, and both vessels became total
wrecks. The six hundred men made their camp at Kokun island, where they
were kindly treated and furnished with provisions, although rigidly
secluded and guarded against all communication with the main land. An
English ship from Shanghai rescued the crews. During the ensuing eight
years repeated efforts were made by missionaries and native converts to
enter Corea and advance the work there, and the labor of propagation
progressed. A number of religious works in the Corean language were
printed from a native printing press and widely circulated. In 1850 the
Christians numbered eleven thousand, and five young men were studying
for the priesthood. Regular mails sewn into the thick cotton coats of
the men in the annual embassy were sent to and brought from China. The
western nations were beginning to take an interest in the twin hermits
of the east, Corea and Japan. In 1852, the Russian frigate Pallas traced
and mapped a portion of the shore line of the east coast, and the work
was continued three years later by the French war vessel Virginie. At
the end of this voyage the whole coast from Fusan to the Tumen was known
with some accuracy and mapped out with European names.
It was in the intervening years, 1853 and 1854, that Commodore Perry and
the American squadron were in the waters of the far east, driving the
wedge of civilization into Japan. The American flag, however, was not
yet seen in Corean waters, though the court of Seoul was kept informed
of Perry’s movements.
A fresh reinforcement of missionaries reached Corea in 1857. When three
years later the French and English forces opened war with China, took
the Peiho forts, entered Peking, and sacked the summer palace of the Son
of Heaven, driving the Chinese emperor to flight, the loss of Chinese
prestige struck terror into all Corean hearts. For six centuries China
had been in Corean eyes the synonym and symbol of invincible power.
Copies of the treaties made between China and the allies, granting
freedom of trade and religion, were soon read in Corea, causing intense
alarm. But the most alarming thing was the treaty between China and
Russia, by which the Manchoo rulers surrendered the great tract watered
by the Amoor river and bordered by the Pacific, to Russia. It was a rich
and fertile region, with a coast full of harbors, and comprising an area
as large as France. The boundaries of Siberia now touch Corea. With
France on the right, Russia on the left, China humbled, and Japan opened
to the western world, it is not strange that the rulers in Seoul
trembled. The results to Christianity were that within a few years
thousands of natives fled their country and settled in the Russian
villages. At the capital, official business was suspended and many
families of rank fled to the mountains. In many instances people of rank
humbly sought the good favor and protection of the Christians, hoping
for safety when the dreaded invasion should come. In the midst of these
war preparations, the French missionary body was reinforced by the
arrival of four of their countrymen who set foot on the soil of their
martyrdom, October, 1861.
The Ni dynasty, founded in 1392, came to an end January 15, 1864, by the
death of King Chul-chong, who had no child, before he had nominated an
heir. Palace intrigues and excitement among the political parties
followed. The widows of the three kings who had reigned since 1831 were
still living. The eldest of these, Queen Cho, at once seized the royal
seal and emblems of authority, which high-handed move made her the
mistress of the situation. A twelve-year-old lad was nominated for the
throne, and his father, Ni Kung, one of the royal princes, became the
actual regent. He held the reins of government during the next nine
years, ruling with power like that of an absolute despot. He was a rabid
hater of Christianity, foreigners, and progress.
The year 1866 is phenomenal in Corean history. It seemed to the rulers
as if the governments of many nations had conspired to pierce their
walls of isolation. Russians, Frenchmen, Englishmen, Americans, Germans,
authorized and unauthorized, landed to trade, rob, kill, or what was
equally obnoxious to the regent and his court, to make treaties. This
and the rapid progress of Christianity now excited the anti-Christian
party, which was in full power at the court, to clamor for the
enforcement of the old edict against the foreign religion.
Vainly the regent warned the court of the danger from Europe. Forced by
the party in power, he signed the death warrants of bishops and priests
and promulgated anew the old laws against the Christians. Within a few
weeks fourteen French priests and bishops were tortured to death, and
twice as many native missionaries and students for the priesthood
suffered like fate. Scores of native Christians were put to death, and
hundreds more were in prison. In a little over a month, all missionary
operations came to a standstill. The three French priests who remained
alive escaped from the peninsula in a Chinese junk, and finally reached
Chefoo October 26. Not one foreign priest now remained in Corea, and no
Christian dared openly confess his faith. Thus after twenty years of
nearly uninterrupted labors, the church was again stripped of her
pastors, and at the end of eighty-two years of Corean Christianity the
curtain fell in blood.
With Bishop Ridel as interpreter and three of his converts as pilots,
three French vessels were sent to explore the Han River and to make
effort to secure satisfaction for the murder of the French bishops and
priests in the previous March. They entered the river September 21, and
two of the vessels advanced to Seoul, leaving one at the mouth of the
river. One or two forts fired on the vessels as they steamed along, and
in one place a fleet of junks gathered to dispute their passage. A
well-aimed shot sunk two of the crazy craft, and a bombshell dropped
among the artillerists in the redoubt, silenced it at once. On the
evening of the 25th, the two ships cast anchor and the flag of France
floated in front of the Corean capital. The hills were white with gazing
thousands, who for the first time saw a vessel moving under steam. The
ships remained abreast of the city several days, the officers taking
soundings and measurements, computing heights, and making plans. Bishop
Ridel went on shore in hopes of finding a Christian and hearing some
news but none dared to approach him. While the French remained in the
river not a bag of rice nor a fagot of wood entered Seoul. Eight days of
such terror, and a famine would have raged in the city. Seven thousand
houses were deserted by their occupants. When the ships returned to the
mouth of the river two converts came on board. They informed Ridel of
the burning of a “European” vessel, the General Sherman, at Ping-Yang,
of the renewal of the persecution, and of the order that Christians
should be put to death without waiting for instructions from Seoul.
Sailing away, the ships arrived at Chefoo, October 3.
The regent, now thoroughly alarmed, began to stir up the country to
defense. The military forces in every province were called out, and the
forges and blacksmith shops were busy day and night in making arms of
every known kind. Loaded junks were sunk in the channel of the Han to
obstruct it. Word was sent to the tycoon of Japan informing him of the
trouble, and begging for assistance, but the Yeddo government had quite
all it could do at that time to take care of itself. Instead of help two
commissioners were appointed to go to Seoul and recommend that Corea
open her ports to foreign commerce as Japan had done, and thus choose
peace instead of war with foreigners. Before the envoys could leave
Japan the tycoon had died, and the next year Japan was in the throes of
civil war, the shogunate was abolished, and Corea was for the time
utterly forgotten.
Another fleet of French vessels sailed from China to Corea, consisting
of seven ships of various kinds, and with six hundred soldiers. The
force landed before the city of Kang-wa on the island of the same name,
and captured the city without difficulty on the morning of October 16.
Several engagements in the same vicinity followed, all of them
successful to the French until they came to attack a fortified monastery
on the island some ten days later. Here they were repulsed with heavy
loss to themselves and to the foe. The next morning to the surprise of
all and the anger of many, orders were given to embark. The troops in
Kang-wa set fire to the city which in a few hours burned to ashes. The
departure of the invaders was so precipitate that Corean patriots to
this day gloat over it as a disgraceful retreat.
In the palace at Seoul the resolve was made to exterminate Christianity,
root and branch. Women and even children were ordered to the death.
Several Christian nobles were executed. One Christian who was betrayed
in the capital by his pagan brother, and another fellow believer, were
taken to the river side in front of the city, near the place where the
two French vessels had anchored. At this historic spot, by an innovation
unknown in the customs of Cho-sen, they were decapitated and their
headless trunks held neck downward to spout out the hot life blood, that
it might wash away the stain of foreign pollution. Upon the mind of the
regent and court the effect was to swell their pride to the folly of
extravagant conceit. Feeling themselves able almost to defy the world,
they began soon after to hurl their defiance at Japan. The results of
this expedition were disastrous all over the east. Happening at a time
when relations between foreigners and Chinese were strained, the
unexpected return of the fleet filled the minds of Europeans in China
with alarm. The smothered embers of hostility to foreign influence,
steadily gathered vigor as the report spread through China that the
hated Frenchmen had been driven away by the Coreans. The fires at length
broke out in the Tien-tsin massacre of 1870.
It was this same year, 1866, that witnessed the marriage of the young
king, now but fourteen years old, to Min, the daughter of one of the
noble families. Popular report has always credited the young queen with
abilities not inferior to those of her royal husband. The Min or Ming
family is largely Chinese in blood and origin, and beside being
preëminent among all the Corean nobility in social, political, and
intellectual power, has been most strenuous in adherence to Chinese
ideas and traditions with the purpose of keeping Corea unswerving in her
vassalage and loyalty to China.
American associations with Corea have been peculiarly interesting. The
commerce carried on by American vessels with Chinese and Japanese ports
made the navigation of Corean waters a necessity. Sooner or later
shipwrecks must occur, and the question of the humane treatment of
American citizens cast on Corean shores came up before our government
for settlement, as it had long before in the case of Japan. Within one
year the Corean government had three American cases to deal with. June
24, 1866, the American schooner Surprise, was wrecked off the coast of
Wang-hai. The approach of any foreign vessel was especially dangerous at
this time, as the crews might be mistaken for Frenchmen and killed by
the people from patriotic impulses. Nevertheless, the captain and his
crew, after being well catechised by the local magistrate and by a
commissioner sent from Seoul, were kindly treated and well fed and
provided with the comforts of life. By orders of Tai-wen Kun, the
regent, they were escorted on horseback to Ai-chiu and after being
feasted there were conducted safely to the border gate. Thence after a
hard journey via Mukden they got to Niuchwang and to the United States
consul.
The General Sherman was an American schooner that had the second
experience with the Coreans. The vessel was owned by a Mr. Preston who
was making a voyage for health. At Tien-tsin the schooner was loaded
with goods likely to be salable in Corea, and she was dispatched there
on an experimental voyage in the hope of thus opening the country to
commerce. The complement of the vessel was five white foreigners and
nineteen Malay and Chinese sailors. The white men were Mr. Hogarth, a
young Englishman, Mr. Preston, the owner, and Messrs. Page and Wilson,
the master and mate of the vessel, and the Rev. Mr. Thomas, a
missionary, who were Americans. From the first the character of the
expedition was suspected, because the men were rather too heavily armed
for a peaceful trading voyage. It was believed in China that the royal
coffins in the tombs of Ping-Yang were of solid gold, and it was broadly
hinted that the expedition had something to do with these.
The schooner, whether merchant or invader, sailed from Chefoo and made
for the mouth of the Tatong River. There they met the Chinese captain of
a Chefoo junk who agreed to pilot them up the river. He stayed with the
General Sherman for two days, then leaving her he returned to the
river’s mouth, and sailed back to Chefoo. No further direct intelligence
was ever received from the unfortunate party. According to one report
the hatches of the schooner were fastened down after the crew had been
driven beneath, and set on fire. According to another, all were
decapitated. The Coreans burned the woodwork for the iron and took the
cannon for models.
The United States steamship Wachusett, dispatched by Admiral Rowan to
inquire into the matter, reached Chefoo January 14, 1867, and took on
board the Chinese pilot of the General Sherman. Leaving Chefoo they cast
anchor two days later at the mouth of the large inlet next south of the
Tatong River, thinking that they had reached their destination. A letter
was dispatched to the capital of the province demanding that the
murderers be produced on the deck of the vessel. Five days elapsed
before the answer arrived, during which the surveying boats were busy.
Many natives were met and spoken with, who all told one story, that the
Sherman’s crew were murdered by the people and not by official
instigation. In a few days an officer from one of the villages appeared.
He would give neither information nor satisfaction, and the gist of his
reiteration was “go away as soon as possible.” Commander Shufeldt, bound
by his orders, could do nothing more, and being compelled also by stress
of weather came away.
[Illustration: COLOSSAL COREAN IDOL—UN-JIN MIRIOK.]
Later in the year Dr. Williams, Secretary of the United States Legation
at Peking, succeeded in obtaining an interview with a member of the
Corean embassy, who told him that after the General Sherman got aground
she careened over as the tide receded, and her crew landed to guard or
float her. The natives gathered around them, and before long an
altercation arose. A general attack began upon the foreigners, in which
every man was killed by the mob. About twenty of the natives lost their
lives. Dr. Williams’ comment is, “The evidence goes to uphold the
presumption that they invoked their sad fate by some rash or violent act
towards the natives.”
The United States steamship Shenandoah was sent to make further
investigation, and this version of the story was given to the commander.
The Coreans said that when the Sherman arrived in the river, the local
officials went on board and addressed the two foreign officers of the
ship in respectful language. The latter grossly insulted the native
dignitaries. The Coreans treated their visitors kindly, but warned them
of their danger and the unlawfulness of penetrating into the country.
Nevertheless, the foreigners went up the river to Ping-Yang where they
seized the ship of one of the city officials, put him in chains, and
proceeded to rob the junks and their crews. The people of the city
aroused to wrath, attacked the foreign ship with firearms and cannon;
they set adrift fire rafts and even made a hand to hand fight with
knives and swords. The foreigners fought desperately, but the Coreans
overpowered them. Finally the ship caught fire and blew up with a
terrible report. This story was not, of course, believed by the American
officers, but even the best wishers and friends of the Sherman
adventurers cannot stifle suspicion of either cruelty or insult to the
natives. Remembering the kindness shown to the crew of the Surprise it
is difficult to believe that the General Sherman’s crew was murdered
without cause.
In 1884 Lieutenant J.B. Bernadon, of the United States navy, made a
journey from Seoul to Ping-Yang, and being able to speak Corean, secured
the following information from native Christians: The governor of
Ping-Yang sent officers to inquire the mission of the Sherman. To
gratify their curiosity large numbers of the common people set out also
in boats which the Sherman’s crew mistook for a hostile demonstration
and fired guns in the air to warn them off. When the river fell the
Sherman grounded and careened over, which being seen from the city
walls, a fleet of boats set out with hostile intent and were fired upon.
Officers and people now enraged, started fire rafts, and soon the
vessel, though with white flag hoisted, was in flames. Of those who
leaped into the river most were drowned. Of those picked up one was the
Rev. Mr. Thomas, who was able to talk Corean. He explained the meaning
of the white flag, and begged to be surrendered to China. His prayer was
in vain. In a few days all the prisoners were led out and publicly
executed.
In the spring of 1867 an expedition was organized by a French Jesuit
priest who spoke Corean, having been a missionary in the country; a
German Jew named Ernest Oppert; and the interpreter at the United States
consulate in Shanghai, a man named Jenkins. These worthies, it is said,
conceived a plan to steal the body of one of the dead Corean monarchs,
and hold it for ransom. With two steam vessels and a crew of sailors,
laborers, and coolies, the riffraff of humanity, such as swarm in every
Chinese port, they left Shanghai the last day of April, steamed to
Nagasaki, and then to the west coast of Corea, landing in the river
which flows into Prince Jerome Gulf. The steam tender which accompanied
the larger vessel took an armed crowd up the river as far as possible,
and from this point the march across the open country to the tomb was
begun. Their tools were so ineffective that they could not move, the
rocky slab which covered the sarcophagus, and they were compelled to
give up their task. During their return march they were attacked by the
exasperated Coreans, but were able to protect themselves without great
difficulty. During the remainder of their buccaneering trip, which
lasted ten days, they had various skirmishes and two or three of their
party were killed. On their return to Shanghai the American of the party
was arrested and tried before the United States consul, but it was
impossible to prove the things with which Jenkins was charged, and he
was dismissed. A few years later Oppert published a work in which he
told the story of his different voyages to Corea, including this last
one. In writing of the last he takes pains to gloss over the intentions
of his journey and to explain the good motives behind it.
The representations made to the department of state at Washington by the
United States diplomatic corps in China concerning these different
attempts to enter Corea, directed the attention of the United States
government to the opening of Corea to American commerce. The state
department in 1870 resolved to undertake the enterprise. Frederick F.
Low, minister of the United States to Peking, and Rear Admiral John
Rodgers, commander in chief of the Asiatic squadron, were entrusted with
the delicate mission. The American squadron consisted of the flagship
Colorado, the corvettes Alaska and Dimitia, and the gunboats Monocacy
and Palos. In spite of the formidable appearance of the navy, the
vessels were either of an antiquated type, or of too heavy a draft, with
their armament defective. All the naval world in Chinese waters wondered
why the Americans should be content with such old fashioned ships
unworthy of the gallant crews who manned them.
The squadron anchored near the mouth of the Han River May 30, 1871.
Approaching the squadron in a junk, some natives made signs of
friendship and came on board without hesitation. They bore a missive
acknowledging the receipt of the letter which the Americans had sent to
Corea some months before, by a special courier from the Chinese court.
This reply announced that three nobles had been appointed by the regent
for a conference. The next day a delegation of eight officers of the
third and fifth rank came on board, evidently with intent to see the
minister and admiral to learn all they could and gain time. They had
little authority and no credentials, but they were sociable, friendly
and in good humor. Neither of the envoys would see them, because they
lacked rank and credentials and authority. The Corean envoys were
informed that soundings would be taken in the river and the shores would
be surveyed.
The best judges of eastern diplomacy think that this mission was very
poorly managed. These envoys were sent ashore, and at noon on the 2nd of
June the survey fleet moved up the river. The fleet consisted of four
steam launches abreast, followed by the Palos and Monocacy. But a few
minutes passed until from a fort on the shore a severe fire was opened
on the moving boats. The Americans promptly returned the fire, with the
result that the old Palos injured herself by the cannon kicking her
sides out. The Monocacy also struck a rock and began to leak badly, but
after hammering at the forts until they were all silenced, the squadron
was able to return down the river and not greatly injured. Strange to
say only one American was wounded and none were killed. It was a strong
evidence of the poor marksmanship of Corean gunners.
Ten days were now allowed to pass before further action was taken, then
the same force started up the river again, enlarged by twenty boats
conveying a landing force of six hundred and fifty men. These were
arranged in ten companies of infantry and seven pieces of artillery. The
squadron proceeded up the river on the morning of the 10th of June, and
soon after noon, having demolished and emptied the first fort, the
troops were landed. The next day they began the march and soon reached
another fortification which was deserted. Here all of the artillery was
tumbled into the river and the fort was named Monocacy. In another hour,
another citadel was reached, attacked, and conquered by the united
efforts of the troops on shore and the vessels in the stream. The final
charge of the American troops up a steep incline met a terrible
reception. The Coreans fought with furious courage in hand to hand
conflict. Finally the enemy was completely routed, some three hundred
and fifty of them being killed. On the American side three were killed,
and ten wounded. Before the day was over two more forts were captured.
The result of the forty-eight hours on shore, of which only eighteen
were spent in the field, was the capture of five forts, probably the
strongest in the kingdom, fifty flags, and four hundred and eighty-one
pieces of artillery. The work of destruction was carried on and made as
thorough as fire, ax and shovel could make it, and this was all on
Sunday, June 11.
Early on Monday morning the whole force was re-embarked in perfect
order, in spite of the furious tide. The fleet moved down the stream
with the captured colors at the mast heads, and towing the boats laden
with the trophies of victory. Later in the day the men slain in the
fight were buried on Boisee Island, and the first American graves rose
on Corean soil.
Admiral Rodgers, having obeyed to the farthest limit the orders given
him, and all hope of making a treaty being over, the fleet sailed for
Chefoo on the 3rd of July, after thirty-five days’ stay in Corean
waters.
“Our little war with the heathen,” as the New York Herald styled it,
attracted slight notice in the United States. In China the expedition
was looked upon as a failure and a defeat. The popular Corean idea was
that the Americans had come to avenge the death of pirates and robbers,
and after several battles had been so surely defeated that they dare not
attempt the task of chastisement again.
When the mikado was restored to supreme power in Japan, and the
department of foreign affairs was created, one of the first things
attended to was to invite the Corean government to resume ancient
friendship and vassalage. This summons, coming from a source
unrecognized for eight centuries, and to a regent swollen with pride at
his victory over the French and his success in extirpating the Christian
religion, was spurned with defiance. An insolent and even scurrilous
letter was returned to the mikado’s government. The military classes,
stung with rage, formed a war party, but the cabinet of Japan vetoed the
scheme and in October, 1873, Saigo, the leader of the war party,
resigned and was returned to Satsuma to brood over his defeat.
In 1873 the young king of Corea attained his majority. His father
Tai-wen Kun, the Regent, by the act of the king was relieved of office
and his bloody and cruel lease of power came to an end. The young
sovereign proved himself a man of some mental vigor and independent
judgment, not merely trusting to his ministers, but opening important
documents in person. He was ably seconded by his wife, to whom was born
in the same year an heir to the throne.
The neutral belt of land, long inhabited by deer and tigers, had within
the last few decades been overspread with squatters, brigands, and
outlaws. The depredations of these border ruffians had become
intolerable both to China and Corea. In 1875 Li Hung Chang sending a
force of picked Chinese troops with a gunboat to the Yalu broke up the
nest of robbers and allowed settlers to enter the land. Two years later
the Peking government shifted its frontier to the Yalu River, and Corean
and Chinese territory was separated only by flowing water. The neutral
strip was no more.
In 1875 some sailors of one of the Japanese ironclads, landing near
Kang-wa for water, were fired on by Corean soldiers under the idea that
they were Americans or Frenchmen. The Japanese before this time had
adopted uniforms of foreign style for their navy. Retaliating, the
Japanese two days later stormed and dismantled the fort, shot most of
the garrison, and carried the spoils to the ships. The news of this
affair brought the wavering minds of both the peace and the war party of
Japan to a decision. An envoy was dispatched to Peking to find out the
exact relation of China to Corea, and secure her neutrality. At the same
time another was sent with the fleet to the Han River, to make if
possible a treaty of friendship and open ports. General Kuroda having
charge of the latter embassy, with men of war, transports, and marines,
reached Seoul February the 6th, 1876. About the same time a courier from
Peking arrived in the capital, bearing the Chinese imperial
recommendation that a treaty be made with the Japanese. The temper of
the young king had been manifested long before this by his rebuking the
district magistrate of Kang-wa for allowing soldiers to fire on
peaceably disposed people, and ordering the offender to degradation and
exile. Arinori Mori in Peking had received a written disclaimer of
China’s responsibility over Corea, by which stroke of policy the Middle
Kingdom freed herself from all possible claims of indemnity from France,
the United States, and Japan.
After several days of negotiation the details of the treaty were
settled, and on February 27 the treaty in which Chosen was recognized as
an independent nation was signed and attested. The first Corean embassy
which had been accredited to the mikado’s court since the Twelfth
century, sailed from Fusan in a Japanese steamer, landing at Yokohama,
May 29. By railroad and steam cars they reached Tokio, and on the first
of June the envoy had audience of the mikado. For three weeks the
Japanese amused, enlightened and startled their guests by showing them
their war ships, arsenals, artillery, torpedoes, schools, buildings,
factories, and offices, equipped with steam and electricity, the ripened
fruit of the seed planted by Perry in 1854. All attempts of foreigners
to hold any communication with them were firmly rejected by the Coreans.
Among the callers with diplomatic powers from the outside world in 1881,
each eager and ambitious to be the first in wresting the coveted prize
of a treaty, were two British captains of men-of-war and a French naval
officer, all of whom sailed away with rebuffs.
Under the new treaty Fusan soon became a bustling place of trade with a
Japanese population of some two thousand. Public buildings were erected
for the Japanese consulate, chamber of commerce, bank, steamship
company, and hospitals. A newspaper was established, and after a few
years of mutual contact at Fusan the Coreans, though finding the
Japanese as troublesome as the latter discovered foreigners to be after
their own ports were opened, with much experience settled down to endure
them for the sake of a trade which was undoubtedly enriching the
country. Gensan was opened May 1, 1880. An exposition of Japanese,
European, and American goods was established for the benefit of trade
with the Coreans.
Russia, England, France, Italy, and the United States all made efforts
in the next few months to make treaties with Corea, and all were
politely rejected. Early in 1881 Chinese and Japanese influence began to
be enlisted in favor of the United States in the effort to make a
treaty. Li Hung Chang, China’s liberal statesman, wrote a letter to a
Corean gentleman in which he advised the country to seek the friendship
of the United States. The Chinese secretary of legation at Tokio also
declared to the Coreans that Americans were the natural friends of
Asiatic nations, and should be welcomed. It began to look more hopeful
for the United States to secure her treaty through the influence of the
Chinese than that of the Japanese, on whom we had previously depended.
One of the most important moves in the advancement of Corea’s
civilization was the sending of a party of thirty-four prominent men to
visit Japan, and further study the problem of how far western ideas were
adapted to an oriental state. The leader of this party, after his return
from Japan, was dispatched on a mission to China, where his conference
was chiefly with Li Hung Chang. He had now a good opportunity of judging
the relative merits of Japan and China. The results of this mission were
soon apparent, for shortly after, eighty young men were sent to
Tien-tsin where they began to diligently pursue their studies of western
civilization as it had impressed itself on China in the arsenals and
schools.
The spirit of progress made advance from the beginning of 1882, but
discussion reached fever heat in deciding whether the favor of Japan or
China should be most sought, and which foreign nation should be first
admitted to treaty rights. An event not unlooked-for, increased the
power of the progressionists. Kozaikai urged the plea of expulsion of
foreigners in such intemperate language that he was accused of
reproaching the sovereign. At the same time a conspiracy against the
life of the king was discovered. Kozaikai was put to death, many of the
conspirators were exiled, and the ringleaders were sentenced to be
broken alive on the wheel. The progressionists had now the upper hand,
and early in the spring two envoys went to Tien-tsin to inform Americans
and Chinese that the Corean government was ready to make a treaty.
Meanwhile Japanese officers were drilling the Corean soldiers in Seoul.
The American diplomatic agent, Commodore R.W. Shufeldt, arrived in the
Swatara off Chemulpo May 7. Accompanied by three officers he went six
miles into the interior, to the office of the Corean magistrate, to
formulate the treaty. Two days afterward the treaty document was signed,
in a temporary pavilion on a point of land opposite the ship. Both on
the American and Corean side this result had been brought about only
after severe toil and prolonged effort.
[Illustration: MAP SHOWING JAPAN, COREA AND PART OF CHINA.]
Four days after the signing of the American treaty, the crown-prince, a
lad of nine years old, was married in Seoul. This year will be forever
known as the year of the treaties. Within a few months treaties were
signed by Corea with Great Britain, France, Germany, Italy and China.
Within a week there appeared in the harbor of Chemulpo two American,
three British, one French, one Japanese, one German and five Chinese
armed vessels; all of them except the French had left by June 8, to the
great relief of the country people, many of whom had fled to the hills
when the big guns began to waste their powder in salutes.
The Japanese legation in Seoul now numbered about forty persons. They
seemed to suspect no imminent danger, although the old fanatic and
tyrant Tai-wen Kun was still alive and plotting. He was the centre of
all the elements hostile to innovation, and being a man of unusual
ability, was possessed of immense influence. During the nine years of
his nominal retirement from office, this bigoted Confucianist who
refused to know anything of the outer world waited his opportunity to
make trouble. Just then the populace was most excited over the near
presence of the foreigners at Chemulpo, the usual rainfall was withheld,
and in the consequent drought the rice crop was threatened with total
failure. The sorcerers and the anti-foreign party took advantage of the
situation to play on the fears of the superstitious people. The spirits
displeased at the intrusion of the western devils were angry, and were
cursing the land.
While the king was out in the open air praying for rain July 23, a mob
of sympathizers with the old regent attempted to seize him. The king
escaped to the castle. Some mischief-maker then started the report that
the Japanese had attacked the royal castle and had seized the king and
queen. Forthwith the mob rushed with frantic violence upon the legation,
murdering the Japanese policemen and students whom they met on the
streets, and the Japanese military instructors in the barracks. Not
satisfied with this, the rioters, numbering four thousand men, attacked
and destroyed the houses of the ministers favoring intercourse. Many of
the Mins and seven Japanese were killed. The Japanese legation attaches
made a brave defence to the night attack which was made on them. Armed
only with swords and pistols, the Japanese formed themselves into a
circle, charged the mob, and cut their way through it. After an all
night march through a severe storm, the little band fighting its way for
much of the time, reached In-chiun at three o’clock the next day. The
governor received them kindly and supplied food and dry clothing, then
posting sentinels to watch so that the Japanese could get some rest. In
an hour the mob attacked them there, and they were again compelled to
cut their way out. They now made for Chemulpo, the seaport of the city,
and about midnight, having procured a junk, they put to sea. The next
morning they were taken on board a British vessel which was surveying
the coast, and a few days later were landed at Nagasaki.
Without hesitation the Japanese government began preparations for a
military and naval attack. Hanabusa, the minister to Corea and his suite
were sent back to Seoul, escorted by a military force. He was received
with courtesy in the capital whence he had been driven three weeks ago.
The fleet of Chinese war ships was also at hand, and everything was
apparently under the control of Tai-wen Kun, who now professed to be
friendly to foreigners. At his audience with the king, Hanabusa
presented the demands of his government. These were nominally agreed to,
but several days passing without satisfactory action, Hanabusa having
exhausted remonstrance and argument left Seoul and returned to his ship.
This unexpected move, a menace of war, brought the usurper to terms. On
receipt of Tai-wen Kun’s apologies, the Japanese envoy returned to the
capital and full agreement was given to all the demands of Japan by the
Corean government. The insurgents were arrested and punished, the heavy
indemnity was paid, and an apology was sent by a special embassy to
Japan. Within the next few days Tai-wen Kun was taken on board a Chinese
ship at the orders of Li Hung Chang and taken to Tien-tsin. It is
generally believed that this action was practically a kidnapping, but
whether to rescue Tai-wen Kun from the dangers which threatened him or
to maintain China’s old theory of sovereign control over Corean rulers
it is hard to know.
The treaty negotiated with the United States was duly ratified by our
senate, and Lucius H. Foote was appointed minister to Corea. General
Foote reached Chemulpo in the United States steamship Monocacy May 13,
and the formal ratifications of the treaty were exchanged in Seoul six
days later. The guns of the Monocacy, the same which shelled the Han
forts in 1870, fired the first salute ever given to the Corean flag. The
king responded by sending to the United States an embassy of eleven
persons led by Min Yong Ik and Hong Yong Sik, members respectively of
the conservative and liberal parties.
Their interview with President Arthur was in the parlors of the Fifth
Avenue Hotel, New York, on September 17. All the Coreans were dressed in
their national custom, which they wore habitually while in America.
After spending some weeks in the study of American Institutions in
several cities, part of the embassy returned home by way of San
Francisco, leaving one of their number at Salem, Mass., to remain as a
student; while Min Yong Ik and two secretaries embarked on the United
States steamship Trenton, and after visiting Europe, reached Seoul in
June, 1884.
We have now reached a point in Corean history from which a continuance
can be better made in a later chapter. Almost from the time of the
return of the Corean embassy from the United States, the political
ferment increased, until a few months after began the disorders which
culminated ten years later in the present Japanese-Chinese war. These
events will therefore be related in the chapter which is to follow,
descriptive of the causes of the war, and the relations of the three
oriental nations at the outbreak of hostilities.
GEOGRAPHY, GOVERNMENT, CLIMATE AND PRODUCTS OF COREA.
--------------
Geographical Limits of Corea—Characteristics of the Coast Line—The
Surface Configuration of the Country—Isolation Made Easy by the
Character of its Boundaries—Rivers of the Peninsula—The Climate—Forests,
Plants, and Animals—Products of the Soil and of the Mine—Extent of
Foreign Trade—The Eight provinces of Corea, Their Extent, Cities, and
History—Government of the Corean Kingdom—The Dignitaries and their
Duties—Corruption in the Administration of Official Duties—Buying and
Selling Office—The Executive and the Judiciary.
For many a year the country of Corea has been known in little more than
name. Its territory is a peninsula on the east coast of Asia, between
China on the continent, and the Japanese islands to the eastward. It
extends from thirty-four degrees and thirty minutes to forty-three
degrees north latitude, and from one hundred and twenty-four degrees and
thirty minutes to one hundred and thirty degrees and thirty minutes east
longitude, between the Sea of Japan and the Yellow Sea. The Yellow Sea
separates it from the southern provinces of China, while the Sea of
Japan and the Strait of Corea separate it from the Japanese islands. It
has a coast line of about one thousand seven hundred and forty miles,
and a total area of about ninety thousand square miles. The peninsula,
with its outlying islands, is nearly equal in size to Minnesota or to
Great Britain. In general shape and relative position to the Asiatic
continent it resembles Florida. Tradition and geological indications
lead to the belief that anciently the Chinese promontory and province of
Shan-tung, and the Corean peninsula were connected, and that dry land
once covered the space filled by the waters joining the Gulf of Pechili
and the Yellow Sea. These waters are so shallow that the elevation of
their bottoms but a few feet would restore their area to the land
surface of the globe. On the other side also, the Sea of Japan is very
shallow and the Straits of Corea at their greatest depth have but
eighty-three feet of water.
The east coast is high, mountainous, and but slightly indented, with
very few islands or harbors. The south and west shores are deeply and
manifoldly scooped and fringed with numerous islands. From these
island-skirted shores, especially on the west coast, mud banks extend
out to sea beyond sight. While the tide on the east coast is very
slight, only two feet at Gensan, it increases on the south and west
coasts in a north direction, rising to thirty-three feet at Chemulpo.
The rapid rise and fall of tides, and the vast area of mud left bare at
low water, cause frequent fogs, and render the numerous inlets little
available except for native craft. On the west coast the rivers are
frozen in winter, but the east coast is open the whole winter through.
Quelpaert, the largest island, forty by seventeen miles, lies sixty
miles south of the main land. Port Hamilton, between Quelpaert and
Corea, was for a time an English possession, but in 1886 was given to
China. The Russians are generally believed to have an overweening desire
for the magnificent harbor of Port Lazaref on the east coast of the
Corean mainland. In its policy of exclusion of all foreigners, the
government has had its tasks facilitated by the inaccessible and
dangerous nature of the approaches to the coast. The high mountain
ranges and steep rocks of the east coast, and the thousands of islands,
banks, shoals and reefs extending for miles into the sea on the western
and southern shores, unite to make approach exceedingly difficult, even
with the best charts and surveys at hand.
In the middle of the northern boundary of Corea, is the most notable
natural feature of the peninsula. It is a great mountain, the colossal
Paik-tu or “ever white” mountain, as it is known from the snow that
rests upon its summit. When the Manchoorians pushed the Coreans farther
and farther back, they reached this mountain, which marked the natural
barrier which they were able to make their permanent boundary line.
According to native account, which in Corea is seriously believed, the
highest peak of this mountain reaches the moderate elevation of
forty-four miles. It is famous as the birthplace of Corean folk lore,
and a great deal that is mythical hangs about it still. On the top of
the peak is a lake thirty miles in circumference. From this lake flow
two streams, one to the north-east, the Tumen, which enters the Sea of
Japan; and the other to the south-west, the Yalu river, which flows into
the Corean bay at the head of the Yellow Sea. Corea is therefore in
reality an island. These two rivers and the lake forming the northern
boundary are about four hundred and sixty miles from the ocean at the
southern end of the peninsula. The greatest width of the country is
three hundred and sixty miles and its narrowest about sixty miles.
The Tumen river separates Corea from Manchooria, except in the last few
miles of its course, when it flows by Russian territory, the
south-eastern corner of Siberia. The Yalu river also divides Corea from
Manchooria. The rivers of Corea are not of great importance except for
drainage and water supply, being navigable but for short distances. On
the west coast the chief rivers are the Yalu, the Ching-chong, the
Tatong, the Han, the Kum; the Yalu is navigable for about one hundred
and seventy miles and is by far the greatest of all in the peninsula.
The Han is navigable to a little above Seoul, eighty miles; the Tatong
to Ping-Yang, seventy-five miles; and the Kum is navigable for small
boats for about thirty miles. In the south-eastern part of the peninsula
the Nak-tong is navigable for small boats to a distance of one hundred
and forty miles. The Tumen river, which forms the north-eastern boundary
between Corea and Siberia, is not navigable except near the mouth. It
drains a mountainous and rainy country. Ordinarily it is shallow and
quiet, but in spring its current becomes very turbulent and swollen.
Occupying about the same latitude as Italy, Corea is also, like Italy,
hemmed in on the north by mountain ranges, and traversed from north to
south by another chain. The whole peninsula is very mountainous, some of
the peaks rising to a height of eight thousand feet.
The climate of the country is excellent, bracing in the north, with the
south tempered by the ocean breezes in summer. The winters in the north
are colder than those of American states in the same latitude, and the
summers are hotter. The heat is tempered by sea breezes, but in the
narrow enclosed valleys it becomes very intense. The Han is frozen at
Seoul for three months in the year, sufficiently to be used as a cart
road, while the Tumen is usually frozen for five months.
[Illustration: COREAN BULL HARROWING.]
Various kinds of timber abound, except in the west, where wood is scarce
and is sparingly used; and in other parts the want of coal has caused
the wasteful destruction of many a forest. The fauna is very
considerable and besides tigers, leopards, and deer, includes pigs, wild
cats, badgers, foxes, beavers, otters, martens, bears, and a great
variety of birds. The salamander is found in the streams as in western
Japan. The domestic animals are few. The cattle are excellent, the bull
being the usual beast of burden, the pony very small but hardy, fowls
good, the pigs inferior.
Immense numbers of oxen are found in the south, furnishing the meat diet
craved by the people, who eat much more of fatty food than the Japanese.
Goats are rare. Sheep are imported from China only for sacrificial
purposes. The dog serves for food as well as for companionship and
defense. Of birds the pheasants, falcons, eagle, crane, and stork are
common.
Among the products are rice, wheat, beans, cotton, hemp, corn, sesame,
and perilla. Ginseng grows wild in the Kange mountains and is also much
cultivated about Kai-seng, the duties upon it, notwithstanding much
smuggling, yielded about half a million dollars annually.
[Illustration: COREAN CITY WALL.]
Iron ore of excellent quality is mined; and there are copper mines in
several places. The output of the silver mines is very small, but the
customs returns for 1886 show the value of gold exported that year to be
$503,296. The principal industries are the manufacture of paper, mats
woven of grass, split bamboo blinds, oil paper, and silk. The total
value of the foreign imports in 1887 was $2,300,000, two-thirds
representing cotton goods; the native exports reached about $700,000,
chiefly beans and cow hides. The foreign vessels entering the treaty
ports yearly number about seven hundred and fifty, of some two hundred
thousand tons burden. Three-fourths of the trade is with Japan and more
than one-fifth with China; British goods go by way of these countries.
Until 1888 business was done chiefly by barter, imports being exchanged
largely for gold dust, and Japanese silk piece goods being a current
exchange for trade inland. In that year the mint at Seoul was completed,
and a beneficial effect on commerce resulted from the introduction of a
convenient and sufficient coinage. Seoul is connected by telegraph with
Taku, Port Arthur, Chemulpo, Gensan, and Fusan.
Corea is divided into eight provinces, three on the east coast and five
on the west coast. These eight provinces are divided into sixty
districts with about three hundred and sixty cities, only sixty of which
however are entitled to the name, the remainder distinguishing
themselves from the larger hamlets and villages merely by the walled-in
residence of the chief government official. Only a portion of each real
city is walled in; but it must not be thought that these walls are in
any way similar to those to be found in China, where even second and
third rate cities are protected by high and strong fortifications with
moats. Corean walls are usually about six feet high, miserably
constructed, of irregular and uneven stone blocks, and nearly every one
of them would tumble down at the first shock of a ball fired from a
modern gun.
[Illustration:
CHINESE PROTECTED CRUISER CHIH-YUEN.
Sunk at the Battle of the Yalu.
]
Corea has for centuries successfully carried out the policy of
isolation. Instead of a peninsula, her rulers strove to make her an
accessible island, and insulate her from the shock of change. She has
built, not a great wall of masonry, but a barrier of sea and
river-flood, of mountain and devastated land, of palisade and cordon of
armed sentinels. Frost and snow, storm and winter, she hailed as her
allies. Not content with the sea border, she desolated her shores lest
they should tempt the foreigner to land. In addition to this, between
her Chinese neighbor and herself she placed a neutral space of
unplanted, unoccupied land. This strip of forest and desolated plain
twenty leagues wide, has stretched for three centuries between Corea and
Manchooria. To form it, four cities and many villages were suppressed
and left in ruins. The soil of these former solitudes is very good, the
roads easy, and the hills not high. The southern boundary of this
neutral ground has been the boundary of Corea, while the northern
boundary has been a wall of stakes, palisades and stone. Two centuries
ago, this line of walls was strong, high, guarded and kept in repair,
but year by year at last, during a long era of peace, they were suffered
to fall into decay, and except for their ruins exist no longer. For
centuries only the wild beasts, fugitives from justice, and outlaws from
both countries have inhabited this fertile but forbidden territory.
Occasionally borderers would cultivate portions of it, but gathered the
produce by night or stealthily by day, venturing on it as prisoners
would step over the dead line. Of late years the Chinese government has
respected the neutrality of this barrier less and less. Within a
generation large portions of this neutral strip have been occupied;
parts of it have been surveyed and staked out by Chinese surveyors, and
the Corean government has been too feeble to prevent the occupation.
Though no towns or villages are marked on the map of this neutral
territory, yet already a considerable number of small settlements exist
upon it, and it was through them that the overland marches of the
Japanese army from Corea into Manchooria had to be made.
The province which borders this neutral territory, is that of Ping-Yang
or “Peaceful Quiet.” It is the border land of the kingdom, containing
what was for centuries the only acknowledged gate of entrance and outlet
to the one neighbor which Corea willingly acknowledged as her superior.
The battle of Ping-Yang recently fought, is only one of many which have
interrupted the harmony of the province of “Peaceful Quiet.” The town
nearest the frontier and the gateway of the kingdom is Wi-ju. It is
situated on a hill overlooking the Yalu river, and surrounded by a wall
of light colored stone. The annual embassy always departed for its
overland journey to China through its gates. Here also are the custom
house and vigilant guards, whose chief business it was to scrutinize all
persons entering or leaving Corea. Nevertheless most of the French
missionaries have entered the mysterious peninsula through this
loop-hole, disguising themselves as wood cutters, crossing the Yalu
river on the ice, creeping through the water drains in the grand wall,
and passing through this town, or they have been met by friends at
appointed places along the border, and thence have traveled to the
capital. Further details as to the political condition of this neutral
strip will be included in a succeeding chapter, preliminary to the
outbreak of the war. The Tatong river, which forms the southern boundary
of the province, is the Rubicon of Corean history. At various epochs in
ancient times it was the boundary river of China or of the rival states
within the peninsula. About fifty miles from its mouth is the city of
Ping-Yang, the metropolis and capital of the province and the royal seat
of authority from before the Christian era to the tenth century. Its
situation renders it a natural stronghold. It has been many times
besieged by Chinese and Japanese armies, and near it many battles have
been fought.
The next province to the south is that of Hwanghai or the “Yellow Sea”
province. This is the land of Corea that projects into the Yellow Sea
directly opposite the Shan-tung promontory of China, on which are the
ports of Chefoo and Wei-hai-wei. Tien-tsin, the seaport of Peking, is a
little farther east. From these ports since the most ancient times, the
Chinese armadas have sailed and invading armies have embarked for Corea.
Over and over again has the river Tatong been crowded with fleets of
junks, fluttering the dragon banners at their peaks. To guard against
these invasions signal fires were lighted on the hill-tops which formed
a cordon of flame and sped the alarm from coast to capital in a few
hours. This province has been the camping ground of the armies of many
nations. Here, beside the border forays which engaged the troops of the
rival kingdom, the Japanese, Chinese, Mongols, and Manchoos have
contended for victory again and again. The principal cities of this
province are Hai-chiu the capital, Hwang-ju an old baronial walled city,
and the commercial city of Sunto or Kai-seng. Rock salt, flints,
ginseng, varnish, and brushes made of the hair of wolf tails, are the
principal products of the province.
[Illustration: GATE OF SEOUL.]
Kiung-kei is the province which contains the national capital, although
it is the smallest of all. The city of Han Yang, or Seoul, is on the
north side of the river, forty or fifty miles from its mouth. The name
Han Yang means “the fortress on the Han river,” while the common term
applied to the royal city is Seoul, which means “the capital.” The
population of the city is between two hundred thousand and two hundred
and fifty thousand. The natural advantages of Seoul are excellent, as it
is well protected by surrounding mountains, and its suburbs reach the
navigable river. The scenery from the city is magnificent. The walls are
of masonry, averaging about twenty feet in height, with arched stone
bridges over the water courses. The streets are narrow and tortuous. The
king’s castle is in the northern part. The islands in the river near the
capital are inhabited by fishermen.
Four great fortresses guard the approaches to the royal city, all of
which have been the scene of siege and battle in time past. The
fortresses in succession are Suwen to the south, Kwang-chiu to the
south-east, Sunto to the north and Kang-wa to the west. On the walls of
the first three have been set the banners of the hosts of Ming from
China and of Taiko from Japan, in the wars at the close of the sixteenth
century. The Manchoo standard in 1637 and the French eagles in 1866 were
planted on the ramparts of Kang-wa. Beside these castled cities there
are forts and redoubts along the river banks crowning most of the
commanding headlands. Over these the stars and stripes floated for three
days in 1871 when the American forces captured the strongholds.
Sunto is one of the most important, if not the chief commercial city in
the kingdom, and from 960 to 1392 it was the national capital. The chief
staple of manufacture and sale is the coarse cotton cloth which forms
the national dress. Kang-wa on the island of the same name, at the mouth
of the Han river, is the favorite fortress to which the royal family are
sent for safety in time of war, or are banished in case of deposition.
The province Chung Chong or “Serene Loyalty” is the next one to the
southward facing the Yellow Sea. In the history of Corean Christianity
this province will be remembered as the nursery of the faith. Here were
made the most converts to the teachings of the French missionaries, and
here persecutions were most violent. When the Japanese armies of
invasion reached the capital in 1592, it was over the great highways
from Fusan which cross this province. Chion-Chiu, the fortress on whose
fate the capital depended, lies in the north-east of the province. The
province contains ten walled cities, and like all its fellows it is
divided into departments, right and left.
The most southern of the eight provinces, Chulla or “Complete Network”
is also the warmest and most fertile. It is nearest to Shanghai and to
the track of foreign commerce. Considerable quantities of hides, bones,
horns, leather, and tallow are exported to Japan. The beef supplied from
the herds of cattle in the pastures of Chulla is famous, and troops of
horses graze on the pasture land. The province is well furnished with
ports and harbors. Christianity had quite a hold in this province, and
when Corea was partly opened to the world there were many believers
found in the north who were descendants of Christian martyrs. The
capital is Chon-chiu. The soil of the province was the scene of many
battles during the Chinese invasions of 1592-97.
[Illustration:
NAVAL ATTACK ON THE CHEN-YUEN BEFORE CHEMULPO.
Japanese Drawing.
]
The island of Quelpaert is about sixty miles south of the mainland. It
is mountainous, with one peak called Han-ra more than six thousand five
hundred feet high. On its top are three extinct craters within each of
which is a lake of pure water. Corean children are taught to believe
that the three first created men of the world still dwell on these lofty
heights.
The most south-easterly province of Corea, and therefore the nearest to
Japan, is Kiung-sang or the “Province of Respectful Congratulation.” It
is one of the richest of the eight provinces as well as the most
populous, and the seat of many historical associations with Japan. The
city of Kion-chiu was the capital of the ancient kingdom of Shinra, and
from here to Kioto, from the third to the tenth century, the relations
of war and peace, letters and religion were continuous and fruitful. The
province has always been the gateway of entrance and exit to the
Japanese. Fusan, the port which was held by the Japanese from very
ancient times, is well at the south-eastern extremity of the peninsula.
Its fortifications are excellent, and its harbor well protected.
Populous cities encircle the bay on which Fusan stands, and from this
point extend two great roads to Seoul. The influence of centuries of
close intercourse with their neighbors, the Japanese, is strongly marked
in this province.
The “River Meadow,” or Kang-wen province fronts Japan from the middle of
the eastern coast directly north of Kiung-sang. It is a province of
beautiful scenery and precipitous mountains. The capital is Wen-chiu.
The women of the province are said to be the most beautiful in Corea.
Ham-kiung, or complete view, is that part of Corean territory adjoining
the boundary of Russia. The south-eastern boundary of Siberia, which has
been pushed farther south after every European war with China, touched
the Tumen river, the northern boundary of Corea, in 1858. It is but a
little ways from the mouth of the Tumen river to the forts of
Vladivostok and Possiet in Russian territory. From these cities extends
a telegraph across Siberia to the cities of European Russia, and here
will be the terminus of the great Trans-Siberian railway now under
construction. Possiet is connected with Nagasaki by an electric cable.
In the event of a war between China and Russia, the Czar would most
probably make Corea the basis of operations. Thousands of Coreans have
left their own country to dwell in the neighboring portions of Siberia,
and most of them are from the province of Ham-kiung. Persecuted
Christians from all over the Corean peninsula have however escaped to
Russia for protection for many years. The port of Gensan near Port
Lazaref, fronting Broughton’s Bay has been opened for trade since May 1,
1880, and has been an important strategic and commercial point ever
since. The capital city of this province is Ham-hung and there are
fourteen other walled cities within its limits. Until the Russians
occupied the adjoining territory, an annual fair was held at the Corea
city of Kion-wen which lies close to the border. Here the Manchoo and
Chinese merchants bartered their wares for those of Corean, the traffic
lasting but two or three days and sometimes only one day. At the end of
the fair any lingering Chinese not soon across the border was urged over
at the point of a spear. Foreigners found within the Corean limits at
any other time were apt to be ruthlessly murdered.
The government of Corea, since the amalgamation of the different tribes
and union of the various states five hundred years ago, has devolved
upon an independent king, an hereditary monarch whose rule was absolute
and supreme. Next in authority to the king are the three Chong, or high
ministers. The chief of these is the greatest dignitary of the kingdom,
and in time of minority or inability of the king wields royal authority.
The father of the present king ruled as regent up to the time when his
son reached his majority in 1874. After the king and the three prime
ministers, come the six heads of departments of government which rank
next. These six department ministers are assisted by two other
associates, the Cham-pan and the Cham-e. These four grades and
twenty-one dignitaries constitute the royal council of Dai-jin, though
the actual authority is in the three ministers. All of the department
ministers make daily reports of their affairs, and refer matters of
importance to the supreme council. There are also three chamberlains who
record every day the acts and words of the king. A daily government
gazette called the Cho-po is issued for information on official matters.
The general cast and method of procedure in the court and government
were copied in the beginning after the great model in Peking. The rule
of the king in Corea is absolute, and his will alone is law. There has
always existed, indeed, the office of a high functionary whose special
duty consists in watching and controlling the royal actions. Formerly
this office really had some significance, but of late years it has
possessed none whatever. Another very curious institution has been that
of the declared or official favorite, a position generally filled by
some member of a noble family, or by one of the ministers whose
influence for good or for evil was paramount with his royal master.
[Illustration: COREAN MAGISTRATE AND SERVANT.]
The titles of the prime ministers are Chief of The Just Government, The
Just Governor of the Left, and The Just Governor of the Right. The six
department ministers are those of the interior, or office and public
employ, finance, war, education, punishments or justice, and public
works. The duties of the minister of foreign affairs devolve on the
minister of education.
Each of the eight provinces is under the direction of a Kam-sa or
governor. The cities are divided into six classes, and are governed by
officers of corresponding rank. Towns are given in charge of the petty
magistrates, there being twelve ranks or dignities in the official
class. In theory, any male Corean able to pass the government
examination is eligible to office, but the greater number of the best
positions are secured by the nobles and their friends. The terms of
office in these posts, from that of provincial governorship down to the
lowest are only for two or three years. At the end of that time the
incumbent pays purchase money and is removed to another place. The
natural result of this system is that the officials take little interest
in their offices except to extort as much profit as possible from the
people whom they are governing. With offices and honors sold to the
highest bidder, the high officers sell justice and plunder their
subordinates, while these again try to indemnify themselves by further
extortion.
The magistrates lay great stress on the trifles of etiquette, and
sumptuary laws exist referring to all sorts of the small things of life.
The rule of the local authorities is very minute in all its
ramifications. The system of making every five houses a social unit is
universal. Every subject of the sovereign except nobles of rank must
possess a passport testifying to his personality and must show his
ticket on demand.
Civil matters are decided by the ordinary civil magistrate, while
criminal cases are tried by the military commandant. Very important
cases are referred to the governor of the province, and thence appealed
to the high court in the capital.
[Illustration: JAPANESE NAVAL ATTACK ON THE FORTS AT WEI-HAI-WEI, AUGUST
17TH.]
COREAN CHARACTERISTICS AND MANNERS OF
LIFE.
--------------
Physique of the People—Rigid Caste System—Slavery—Guilds and Trade
Unions—Position of Women—Nameless and Oppressed—Marriage and Family
Life—Burial and Mourning Customs—Dress and Diet—Homes—Home
Life—Children—Education—Outdoor Life—Music—Literature—Language—Religion.
The Corean people are mainly of a Mongolian type, though there is some
evidence that there is a Caucasian element in the stock. They are a
little larger and steadier of physique than the Japanese, or the Chinese
of the south, more nearly approaching to the northern Chinese and even
to the tribes in the northeast of Asia. Frequently individuals are met,
with hair not quite black, and even blue eyes and an almost English
style of face. The characteristics of the people are distinguished to
advantage from that of their Chinese neighbors by the openness and
frankness of their demeanor. The Coreans, even of the lower classes, are
grave and sedate by nature, which, however, does not exclude a spirit of
frank gayety shown on nearer acquaintance. They are thoroughly honest,
faithful and good natured, and attach themselves with an almost
childlike confidence even to strangers and foreigners, when once they
begin to trust in their sincerity.
Firm, sure, and quick in his walk, the Corean possesses greater ease and
a freer motion than the Chinese, to whom they are superior in height and
bodily strength. On the other hand it cannot be denied that the Coreans
rank considerably below the Chinese in cultivation of good manners, and
they are wanting in that little polish which is not absent even among
the lower classes of China and Japan.
The peculiarity of the Corean race and the difference between the same
and the neighboring nations, shows itself mainly in the strict and rigid
division of the castes which part the various ranks of the population of
the peninsula from each other, showing some analogy to the caste
institutions prevailing among the Hindus in India. There exists,
however, this notable difference between the two, that while with the
latter this separation is based upon religious principles and customs,
no religious movement appears as its cause in Corea, where its origin
seems solely attributable to political reasons, which have been
maintained and kept up to our times by the government for reasons of its
own. The forms of Corean society to this day are derived from feudal
ranks and divisions. The fruit and legacy of feudalism are seen in the
serfdom or slavery which is Corea’s peculiar domestic institution.
Speaking in general terms, society has four grades, following the king.
These are the nobles and the three classes which come after them, in the
last of which are “the seven low callings.” In detail the grades may be
counted by the scores. In the lowest grade of the fourth class are “the
seven vile callings,” that is, the merchant, boatman, jailer, postal or
mail slave, monk, butcher, and sorcerer. The first and foremost rank,
immediately after the king and the members of the royal family, who
stand absolutely above and beyond these castes, is taken up by the
so-called nobles, descendants of the old families of chieftains, who are
again subdivided into two degrees, the civil and the military nobility.
These two classes of nobles, in the course of time, had possessed
themselves of the exclusive right of occupying public office. Following
upon these we find the caste of the half nobles, numerically a very weak
class, which forms the transition from the nobility to the civic
classes. These also enjoy the right to fill certain offices from their
ranks, principally those of government secretaries and translators of
Chinese. After these come the civic caste, which consists of the better
and wealthier portion of the city inhabitants. This class counts amongst
its numbers the merchants, manufacturers, and most kinds of artisans.
Next follows the people’s caste, which comprising the bulk of the people
is naturally the most numerous of all and includes all villagers,
farmers, shepherds, huntsmen, fishermen, and the like.
[Illustration: STATESMAN ON MONOCYCLE.—_Native Drawing._]
The nobles are usually the slave holders, many of them having in their
households large numbers whom they have inherited along with their
ancestral chattels. The master has a right to sell or otherwise dispose
of the children of his slaves if he so choose. Slavery or serfdom in
Corea is in a continuous state of decline, and the number of slaves
constantly diminishing. The slaves are those who are born in a state of
servitude, those who sell themselves as slaves, and those who are sold
to be such by their parents in times of famine or for debt. Infants
exposed or abandoned that are picked up and educated become slaves, but
their offspring are born free. The serfdom is really very mild. Only the
active young men are held to field labor, the young women being kept as
domestics. When old enough to marry, the males are let free by an annual
payment of a sum of money for a term of years. Outside of private
ownership of slaves, there is a species of government slavery which
illustrates the persistency of one feature of the ancient kingdom of
Korai perpetuated through twenty centuries. It is the law that in case
of the condemnation of a great criminal, the ban shall fall upon his
wife and children, who at once become the slaves of the judge. These
unfortunates do not have the privilege of honorably serving the
magistrate, but usually pass their existence in waiting on the menials
in the various government offices. Only a few of the government slaves
are such by birth, most of them having become so through judicial
condemnation in criminal cases; but this latter class fare far worse
than the ordinary slaves. They are chiefly females, and are treated
little better than beasts. Nothing can equal the contempt in which they
are held.
[Illustration: COREAN BRUSH CUTTER.—_Native Drawing._]
By union and organization it has come to pass that the common people and
the serfs themselves in Corea have won a certain degree of social
freedom that is increasing. The spirit of association is spread among
the Coreans of all classes, from the highest families to the meanest
slaves. All those who have any kind of work or interest in common, form
guilds, corporations or societies which have a common fund contributed
to by all for aid in time of need. Very powerful trade unions exist
among the mechanics and laborers, such as hat-weavers, coffin-makers,
carpenters, and masons. These societies enable each class to possess a
monopoly of trade which even a noble vainly tries to break. Sometimes
they hold this right by writ purchased or obtained from government,
though usually it is by prescription. Most of the guilds are taxed by
the government for their monopoly enjoyed. They have their chief or head
man who possesses almost despotic power, even in some guilds of life and
death.
One of the most powerful and best organized guilds is that of the
porters. The interior commerce of the country being almost entirely on
the backs of men and pack horses, these people have the monopoly of it.
They number about ten thousand, and are divided by provinces and
districts under the orders of chiefs and inspectors. They have very
severe rules for the government of their guild, and crimes among them
are punished with death at the order of their chief. They are so
powerful that they pretend that even the government dare not interfere
with them. They are honest and faithful in their business, delivering
packages with certainty to the most remote places in the kingdom. When
they have received an insult, or injustice, or too low wages, they
“strike” in a body and retire from the district. This puts a stop to all
travel and business until the grievances are settled, or submission to
their own terms is made. Owing to the fact that the country at large is
so lacking in the shops and stores common in other countries, and that
instead fairs on set days are so numerous in the towns and villages, the
guild of peddlers and hucksters is very large and influential. This
class includes probably two hundred thousand able bodied persons who in
the various provinces move freely among the people, and are thus useful
to government as spies, detectives, messengers, and in time of need,
soldiers.
[Illustration: PORTERS WITH CHAIR.—_Native Drawing._]
The Corean woman has little moral existence. She is an instrument of
pleasure or of labor, but never man’s companion or equal. She has no
name. In childhood she receives indeed a surname by which she is known
in the family and by near friends, but as she grows up none but her
father and mother employ this appellation; to all others she is “the
sister” of such a one or “the daughter” of so and so. After her marriage
her name is buried, and she is absolutely nameless. Her own parents
allude to her by employing the name of the district or ward in which she
is married. When she bears children she is “the mother” of so and so.
When a woman appears for trial before a magistrate, in order to save
time and trouble she receives a special name for the time being.
In the higher classes of society etiquette requires that the children be
separated after the age of eight or ten years. After that time the boys
dwell entirely in the men’s apartments to study and even to eat and
drink; the girls remain secluded in the women’s quarters. The boys are
taught that it is a shameful thing even to set foot in the female part
of the house. The girls are told that it is disgraceful even to be seen
by males, so that gradually they seek to hide themselves when any of the
male sex appear. These customs, continued from childhood to old age,
result in destroying the family life. A Corean of good taste only
occasionally holds conversation with his wife, whom he regards as being
far beneath him. The men chat, smoke, and enjoy themselves in the outer
rooms, and the women receive their parents and friends in the inner
apartments. The men seek the society of their male neighbors, and the
women on their part unite together for local gossip. In the higher
classes, when a young woman has arrived to marriageable age none even of
her own relatives except those nearest of kin, is allowed to see or
speak to her. After their marriage women are inaccessible. They are
nearly always confined to their apartments, nor can they even look out
into the streets without permission from their lords.
There is, however, another side. Though counting for nothing in society,
and nearly so in their family, they are surrounded by a certain sort of
exterior respect. They are always addressed in the formulas of the most
polite language. The men always step aside in the street to allow a
woman to pass, even though she be of the poorer classes. There is also a
peculiar custom which exists in Seoul which exhibits deference to the
comfort of the women. A bell in the castle is struck at sunset, after
which male citizens are not allowed to go out of their houses even to
visit their neighbors. Women, on the contrary are permitted the freedom
of the streets after this time, consequently, as they are assured of
safety, from seeing men or being seen by them, they take their exercise
and enjoy the outdoors most heartily and freely at night.
Marriage in Corea is a thing with which a woman has little or nothing to
do. The father of the young man communicates with the father of the girl
he wishes his son to marry. This is often done without consulting the
tastes or character of either, and usually through a middleman or
go-between. The fathers settle the time of the wedding, and a favorable
day is appointed by the astrologers. Under this aspect marriage seems an
affair of small importance, but in reality it is marriage only that
gives one any civil rank or influence in society. Every unmarried person
is treated as a child. He may commit all sorts of foolishness without
being held to account. His capers are not noticed, for he is not
supposed to think or act seriously. Even the unmarried young men of
twenty-five or thirty years of age can take no part in social reunions
or speak on affairs of importance. But marriage is emancipation. Even if
mated at twelve or thirteen years of age, the married are adults. The
bride takes her place among the matrons and the young man has a right to
speak among the men and to wear a hat.
The badge of single or married life is the hair. Before marriage the
young man who goes bareheaded, wears a simple tress hanging down his
back. In wedlock the hair is bound up on the top of the head and is
cultivated on all parts of the scalp. Young persons who insist on
remaining single, or bachelors who have not yet found a wife, sometimes,
however, secretly cut off their hair or get it done by fraud in order to
pass for married folks and avoid being treated as children. Such a
custom however is a gross violation of morals and etiquette.
On the evening before the wedding the young lady who is to be married
invites one of her friends to change her virginal coiffure to that of a
married woman. The bridegroom-to-be, also invites one of his
acquaintances to do up his hair in manly style. On the marriage day in
the house of the groom a platform is set up and richly adorned with
decorative cloths. Parents, friends, and acquaintances assemble in a
crowd. The couple to be married, who may never have seen or spoken to
each other, are brought in and take their places on the platform face to
face. There they remain for a few minutes. They salute each other with
profound obeisance but utter not a word. This constitutes the ceremony
of marriage. Each then retires upon either side; the bride to the
female, and the groom to the male apartments, where feasting and
amusement after fashions in vogue in Chosen take place. The expense of a
wedding is considerable and the bridegroom must be unstinting in his
hospitality. Any failure in this particular may subject him to
unpleasant practical jokes. On her wedding day the young bride must
preserve absolute silence both on the marriage platform and in the
nuptial chamber. Etiquette requires this at least among the nobility.
Though overwhelmed with questions and compliments, silence is her duty.
She must rest mute and impassive as a statue.
It is the reciprocal salutation before witnesses on the wedding dais
that constitutes legitimate marriage. From that moment a husband may
claim a woman as his wife. Conjugal fidelity, obligatory on the woman,
is not required of the husband, and a wife is little more than a slave
of superior rank. Among the nobles the young bridegroom spends three or
four days with his bride, and then absents himself from her for a
considerable time to prove that he does not esteem her too highly. To
act otherwise would be considered in very bad taste and highly
unfashionable.
[Illustration:
JAPANESE WAR SHIP “YOSHINO.”
(During the Attack on Wei-hai-wei, August 17th, 1894.)
]
Habituated from infancy to such a yoke and regarding themselves as of an
inferior race, most women submit to their lot with exemplary
resignation. Having no idea of progress or of an infraction of
established usage they bear all things. They become devoted and obedient
wives, jealous of the reputation and well-being of their husbands. The
woman who is legally espoused, whether widow or slave, enters into and
shares the entire social estate of her husband. Even if she be not noble
by birth she becomes so by marrying a noble. It is not proper for a
widow to remarry.
The fashion of mourning, the proper time and place to shed tears, and
express grief, according to regulations, are rigidly prescribed in an
official treatise, or “Guide to Mourners,” published by the government.
The corpse must be placed in a coffin of very thick wood, and preserved
during many months in a special room prepared and ornamented for this
purpose. It is proper to weep only in this death chamber, but this must
be done three or four times daily. Before entering it the mourner must
don a special suit of mourning clothes. At the new and full moon all the
relatives are invited and expected to assist in the ceremonies. These
practices continue more or less even after burial, and at intervals
during several years. Often a noble will go out to weep at the tomb,
passing days and nights in this position. Among the poor, who have not
the means to provide a death chamber and expensive mourning, the coffin
is kept outside their houses covered with mats until the time for its
burial.
Though cremation is known in Corea, the most usual form of disposing of
the dead is by burial. Children are wrapped up in the clothes and
bedding in which they die and are thus buried. As all unmarried persons
are reckoned as children their shroud and burial are the same. With the
married the process is more costly, and more detailed and prolonged. The
selection of a proper site for their tomb is a matter of profound
solicitude, time, and money; for the geomancers must be consulted with a
fee. The tombs of the poor consist only of a grave and a low mound of
earth. With the richer class monuments are of stone, sometimes neat or
even imposing, sometimes grotesque.
Mourning is of many degrees and lengths, and is betokened by dress,
abstinence from food and business, visits to the tomb, offerings,
tablets, and many visible indications detailed even to absurdity. Pure
or nearly pure white is the mourning color, as a contrast to red, the
color of rejoicing. When noblemen don the peaked hat which covers the
face as well as the head, they are as dead to the world, not to be
spoken to, molested, or even arrested, if charged with crime. This
Corean mourning hat proved the helmet of salvation to Christians and
explains the safety of the French missionaries who lived so long in
disguise under its shelter, unharmed in the country where the police
were ever on their track. The Jesuits were not slow to see the wonderful
protection promised for them, and availed themselves of it at once and
always, both while entering the well-guarded frontier and while residing
in the country.
Corean architecture is in a very primitive condition. The castles,
fortifications, temples, monasteries, and public buildings cannot
approach the magnificence of those of Japan or China. The dwellings are
tiled or thatched houses, almost invariably one story high. In the
smaller towns these are not arranged in regular streets but are
scattered here and there. Even in the cities the streets are narrow and
tortuous. In the rural parts the houses of the wealthy are surrounded by
beautiful groves, with gardens circled by hedges or fences of rushes or
split bamboo. The cities show a greater display of red-tiled roofs, as
only the officials and nobles are allowed this honor. Shingles are not
much used. The thatchings are rice or barley straw. A low wall of
uncemented stone five or six feet high, surrounds the dwellings. The
foundations are laid on stone set in the earth, and the floor of the
humble is the ground itself. The people one grade above the poorest,
cover the hard ground with sheets of oiled paper which serve as a
carpet. For the better class a floor of wood is raised a foot or so
above the earth.
Bed clothes are of silk, wadded cotton, thick paper, and furs. Cushions
or bags of rice-chaff form the pillows of the rich. The poor man uses a
smooth log of wood or slightly raised portion of the floor to rest his
head upon. In most families of the middle class, the “kang” forms the
vaulted floor, bed, and stove. It is as if we should make a bedstead of
bricks and put foot-stoves under it. The floor is bricked over or built
of stone, over flues which run from the fireplace at one end of the
house to the chimney at the other. The fire which does the cooking is
thus used to warm those sitting or sleeping in the room beyond.
Three rooms are the rule in an average house, and these are for cooking,
eating, and sleeping. In the kitchen the most notable articles are the
large earthen jars for holding rice, barley or water. Each of them is
big enough to hold a man easily. The second room, containing the “kang,”
is the sleeping apartment, and the next is the best room or parlor.
Little furniture is the rule. Coreans, like the Japanese, sit not
cross-legged but on their heels. Among the well-to-do, dog skins cover
the floor for a carpet, or tiger skins serve as rugs. Matting is common.
[Illustration: COREAN BOAT.—_Native Drawing._]
The meals are served on the floor on small low tables, usually one for
each guest, but sometimes one for a couple. The best table service is of
porcelain and the ordinary sort of earthenware with white metal or
copper utensils. The tablecloths are of fine glazed paper and resemble
oiled silk. No knives or forks are used; but instead chopsticks and what
is more common than in China or Japan, spoons are used at every meal.
The walls range in quality of decoration from plain mud to colored
plaster and paper. Pictures are not known. The windows are square and
latticed without or within, covered with tough oiled paper, and moving
in grooves. The doors are of wood, paper, or plaited bamboo. Glass was
till recently a nearly unknown luxury in Corea.
The Corean liquor by preference is brewed or distilled from rice,
millet, or barley. These alcoholic drinks are of various strength,
color, and smell, ranging from beer to brandy. No trait of the Coreans
has more impressed their numerous visitors than their love of all kinds
of strong drink. No sooner were the ports of Corea opened to commerce
than the Chinese established liquor stores, while European wines,
brandies and whiskeys have entered to increase the national drunkenness.
Although the Corean lives between the two great tea-producing countries
of the world, he scarcely knows the taste of tea and the fragrant herb
is little used on the peninsula.
The staple diet has in it much more of meat and fat than that of the
Japanese, and the average Corean can eat twice as much as the Japanese.
Beef, pork, fowls, venison, fish, and game are consumed without much
waste and rejected material. Dog flesh is on sale among the common
butchers’ meat. The women cook rice beautifully, and other well-known
dishes are barley, millet, beans, potato, lily-bulbs, seaweeds, acorns,
radishes, turnips, macaroni, vermicelli, apples, pears, plums, grapes,
persimmons, and various kinds of berries. All kinds of condiments are
much relished.
One striking fault of the Coreans at the table is their voracity. In
this respect there is not the least difference between the rich and
poor, noble or plebeian. To eat much is an honor, and the merit of a
feast consists not in the quality but in the quantity of the food
served. Little talking is done while eating, for each sentence might
lose a mouthful. Hence, since a capacious stomach is a high
accomplishment, mothers use every means to develop as elastic a capacity
as possible in their children from very infancy. The Coreans equal the
Japanese in devouring raw fish, and uncooked food of all kinds is
swallowed without a wry face. Fish bones do not scare them. These they
eat as they do the small bones of fowls.
[Illustration:
THE BATTLE AT GAZAN.
Japanese Drawing.
]
[Illustration: COREAN EGG-SELLER.—_Native Drawing._]
Nationally and individually the Coreans are very deficient in
conveniences for the toilet. Bath tubs are rare, and except in the
warmer days of summer, when the river and sea serve for immersion, the
natives are not usually found under water. The need of soap and hot
water has been noticed by travelers and writers of every nation. The men
are very proud of their beards, and honor them as a distinctive glory
and mark of their sex. Women coil their glossy black tresses into
massive knots and fasten them with pins, or gold and silver rings.
Corea is famous as the land of big hats. Some of these head-coverings
are so immense that the human head encased in one of them seems as but a
hub in a cart wheel. In shape the gentleman’s hat resembles a flowerpot
inverted in the center of a round table. Two feet is a common diameter,
and the top, which rises in a cone nine inches higher, is only three
inches wide at the apex. The usual material is bamboo, split to the
fineness of a thread and woven. The fabric is then varnished or
lacquered, and becomes perfectly weatherproof. The prevalence of cotton
clothing, easily soaked and rendered uncomfortable, requires the ample
protection for the back and shoulders which these umbrella-like hats
furnish.
The wardrobe of the upper classes consists of the ceremonial and the
house dress. The former as a rule is of fine silk, and the latter of
coarser silk or cotton. They are of pink, blue, and other rich colors.
The official robe is a long garment like a wrapper, with loose baggy
sleeves. There are few tailors’ shops, the women of each household
making the family outfit. The underdress of both sexes is a short jacket
with tight sleeves, which for men reaches to the thighs, and for women
only to the waist, and a pair of drawers reaching from waist to ankle.
The females wear a petticoat over this garment, so that the Coreans say
they dress like western women, and foreign-made hosiery and
undergarments are in demand. Their general style of costume is that of
the wrapper, stiff, wide, and inflated, with abundant starch in summer,
but clinging and baggy in winter. The white dress of the Corean makes
his complexion look darker than it really is. Footgear is either of
native or of Chinese make. The laborer contents himself with sandals
woven from rice-straw, which usually last but a few days. Small feet do
not seem to be considered a beauty, and the foot binding of the Chinese
is unknown in Cho-sen.
Judging from a collection of the toys of Corean children, and from their
many terms of affection, and words relating to games and sports,
festivals and recreation, and nursery stories, the life of the little
ones must be pleasant. In the capital and among the higher classes,
children’s toys are very handsome, ranking as real works of art. They
have many games played by the little ones quite similar to those of our
own babies, and they delight in pets, such as monkeys and puppies.
At school the pupils study out loud and noisily, according to the method
all over Asia. Besides learning the Chinese characters and the
vernacular alphabet, the children master arithmetic and writing. The
normal Corean is fond of his children, especially of sons, who in his
eyes are worth ten times as much as daughters. Such a thing as exposure
of children is little known. The first thing inculcated in a child’s
mind is respect for his father. All insubordination is immediately and
sternly repressed. Far different is it with the mother. She yields to
her boy’s caprices, and laughs at his faults and vices without rebuke,
while the child soon learns that a mother’s authority is next to
nothing.
Primogeniture is the rigid rule. Younger sons at the time of their
marriage, or at other important periods of life receive paternal gifts,
but the bulk of the property belongs to the oldest son, on whom the
younger sons look as their father. He is the head of the family, and
regards his father’s children as his own. In all eastern Asia the bonds
of family are much closer than among Caucasian people of the present
time. All the kindred, even to the fifteenth or twentieth degree,
whatever their social position, rich or poor, educated or illiterate,
officials or beggars, form a clan or more properly one single family,
all of whose members have mutual interests to sustain. The house of one
is the house of the other, and each will assist to his utmost, another
of the clan to get money, office, or advantage. The law recognizes this
system by levying on the clan the taxes and debts which individuals of
it cannot pay, holding the clan responsible for the individual. To this
they submit without complaint or protest. Instead of the family being a
unit, as with us, it is only the fragment of a clan, a segment in the
great circle of kindred. The Coreans are fully as clannish as the
Chinese, and in this lies one great obstacle to Christianity or to any
kind of individual reform.
China gave her culture to Corea and Corea passed it on to Japan. If we
may believe Corean tales, then the Coreans have possessed letters and
writing during three thousand years. It is certain that since the
opening of the Christian era the light of China’s philosophy has shone
steadily among Corean scholars. In spite of their national system of
writing, the influence of the finished philosophy and culture of China
has been so great that the hopelessness of producing a copy equal to the
original became at once apparent to the Corean mind. The culture of
their native tongue has been neglected by Corean scholars. The
consequence is that after so many centuries of national life Corea
possesses no literature worthy of the name.
At present Corean literary men possess a highly critical knowledge of
Chinese. Most intelligent scholars read the classics with ease and
fluency. Penmanship is an art as much prized and as widely practiced as
in Japan, and reading and writing constitute education. Corea has most
closely imitated her teacher, China, in the use of education. She
fosters education by making scholastic ability as tested in the literary
examination, the basis of appointment to office. This civil service
reform was established by the now ruling dynasty early in the fifteenth
century. The Corean child, neglecting his own language, literature, and
history, studies those of China and the philosophy of Confucius, so that
his education is practically that of the young man in China. The same
classics are studied and the same attention is paid to memory
cultivation. The competitive examinations too are very similar to those
of China, and corresponding degrees are granted. The system of literary
examinations, which for two or three centuries after its establishment
was vigorously maintained with impartiality, is at present in a state of
decay, bribery and official favor being the causes of its decline.
The special schools of languages, mathematics, medicine, art etc., are
under the patronage of the government, but amount to very little. The
school of astronomy and the choice of fortunate days for state occasions
is for the special service of the king. There is also a school of
interpreters, charts, law, and horology.
Although the Chinese language, writing and literature form the basis of
education and culture in Chosen, yet the native language is distinct in
structure from the Chinese, having little in common with it. The latter
is monosyllabic, while the Corean is polysyllabic, as is the Japanese
which the Corean closely resembles. No other language is so nearly
affiliated to the Japanese as is the Corean. The Corean alphabet, one of
the most simple and perfect in the world, consists of twenty-five
letters, eleven vowels and fourteen consonants. They are made with easy
strokes in which straight lines, circles, and dots only are used.
[Illustration:
JAPANESE SOLDIERS DESCENDING FROM THE CASTLE AT FUNG-HWANG.
Japanese Drawing.
]
As in Japan, so in Corea three styles of languages prevail, and are used
as follows: Pure Chinese without any admixture of Corean, in books and
writings on science, history and government, and in the theses of the
students and literary men; in the books composed in the Corean language
the vernacular syntax serves as the framework, but the vocabulary is
largely Chinese; the Corean book style of composition which is written
in the pure Corean language. Every one in Corea speaks the vernacular
and not Chinese.
The books which have been written in Corean, are chiefly primers or
manuals of history, books on etiquette and ritual, and geography. There
are also a few works of poetry written in the vulgar dialect.
[Illustration: COREAN BAND OF MUSICIANS.—_Native Drawing._]
In passionate fondness for music the Coreans decidedly surpass all other
Asiatic nations. Their knowledge is indeed primitive, however, not
superior to that of their neighbors, and their instruments are of rude
workmanship and construction. The principal of these instruments are the
gong, the flute, and the two-stringed guitar, combining to make a music
anything but harmonious. They always sing in falsetto, like the Chinese,
in a monotonous and melancholy manner. The Coreans however possess a
musical ear, and they know how to appreciate and like to listen to
foreign music very much, while the Chinese have not the slightest idea
of harmony, and placing our music far below their own, look down upon
our art with something like a feeling of pity.
The fibres of Corean superstition, and the actual religion of the people
of to-day, have not radically changed during twenty centuries in spite
of Buddhism. The worship of the spirits of nature and the other popular
gods is still reflected in superstition and practice. The Chinese Fung
Shuy, which in Corean becomes Pung-siu, is a system of superstition
concerning the direction of the everyday things of life, which is nearly
as powerful in Corea as in the parent country. Upon this system, and
perhaps nearly equal in age with it, is the cult of ancestral worship
which has existed in Chinese Asia from unrecorded time. Confucius found
it in his day and made it the basis of his teachings, as it had already
been of the religious and ancient documents of which he was the editor.
The Corean system of ancestral worship presents no feature radically
different from the Chinese. Confucianism, or the Chinese system of
ethics, holds about the same position that it does in China. Taoism
seems to be little studied.
In Corean mouths Buddha becomes Pul and his “way” or doctrine Pul-to or
Pul-chie. The faith from India has made thorough conquest of the
southern half of the peninsula, but has only partially leavened the
northern portion where the grosser heathenism prevails. The palmy days
of Corean Buddhism were during the era of Korai, 905 to 1392 A.D. In its
development, Corean Buddhism has frequently been a potent influence in
national affairs, and the power of the bonzes has at times been so great
as to practically control the court and nullify decrees of the king. As
in Japan the frequent wars have developed the formation of a clerical
militia, able to garrison and defend their fortified monasteries, and
even to change the fortune of war by the valor of their exploits. There
are three distinct classes or grades of the bonzes or priests. The
student monks devote themselves to learning and to the composition of
books and to Buddhist rituals. Then there are the mendicant and
traveling bonzes who solicit alms and contributions for the erection and
maintenance of the temples and monastic establishments. Finally the
military bonzes act as garrisons, and make, keep in order, and are
trained to use weapons. Even at the present day Buddhist priests are
made high officers of the government, governors of provinces, and
military advisers. In the nunneries are two kinds of female devotees,
those who shave the head and those who keep their locks. The vows of the
latter are less rigid. Excepting in its military phases, the type of
Corean Buddhism approaches that of China rather than of Japan.
The great virtue of the Coreans is their innate respect for and daily
practice of the laws of human brotherhood. Mutual assistance and
generous hospitality among themselves are distinctive national traits.
In all the important events of life, such as marriages and funerals,
each person makes it his duty to aid the family most directly
interested. One will charge himself with the duty of making purchases;
others with arranging the ceremonies. The poor, who can give nothing,
carry messages to friends and relatives in the near or remote villages,
passing day and night on foot and giving their labors gratuitously. When
fire, flood or other accident destroys the house of one of their number,
neighbors make it a duty to lend a hand to rebuild. One brings stone,
another wood, another straw. Each in addition to his gifts in material
devotes two or three days’ work gratuitously. A stranger coming into a
village is always assisted to build a dwelling. Hospitality is
considered as one of the most sacred duties. It would be a grave and
shameful thing to refuse a portion of one’s meal to any person, known or
unknown, who presents himself at eating time. Even the poor laborers at
the side of the roads are often seen sharing their frugal nourishment
with the passer-by. The poor man making a journey does not need
elaborate preparations. At night, instead of going to a hotel, he enters
some house whose exterior room is open to any comer. There he is sure to
find food and lodging for the night. Rice will be shared with the
stranger, and at bedtime a corner of the floor mat will serve for a bed,
while he may rest his head on the long log of wood against the wall,
which serves as a pillow. Even should he delay his journey for a day or
two, little or nothing to his discredit will be harbored by his hosts.
It is evident after this glance at the history, the conditions, and the
customs of the Coreans, that they have many excellent qualities, which
require but the leavening influence of Christianity and western
civilization to make them worthy members of the family of nations. It is
quite possible that the influence of the Japanese-Chinese war, in its
ultimate results, may reach this desirable consummation.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
_THE WAR_
------------------------------------------------------------------------
[Illustration: JAPANESE COOLIES FOLLOWING THE ARMY.]
CAUSES OF THE WAR BETWEEN JAPAN AND CHINA.
--------------
Inception Must be Sought Far Back in History—Old Time Animosity Between
the two Nations Chiefly Responsible—Formal Recognition of Corean
Independence by Japan—The Riots of 1882 and Their Result—Return of the
Corean Embassy from a Trip Around the World—Advance of American Ideas
and Influence—Plots of the Progressionists—The Coup d'Etat and Its Fatal
Results—Flight of the Conspirators to Japan and America—Decoying of
Kim-ok-Kiun to Shanghai—Assassination of Kim—Rebellion in Northern
Corea—Aid Asked From China—China Sends Troops—Violation of Treaty with
Japan—Army from Japan Arrives—Japanese in the Capital—Scheme of Reform
Proposed by Japan and Rejected by China—A Diplomatic Campaign.
In its broadest sense no war between nations can be ascribed to a single
cause, defined by exact limits of time and place. A cause of war always
suggests the question as to what has made it such; and so we find that
for an intelligent understanding of the present war we have to go back,
beyond the Corean rebellions of the early spring of 1894, and take in
the whole range of the relations of China and Japan to Corea and to each
other. An understanding of the history of the three nations is necessary
to a proper understanding of the war.
The first formal recognition of Corean independence is found in the
earliest treaty between Japan and Corea, that of 1876, by which the
Coreans agreed to pay indemnity for an unwarranted attack which had been
made upon a Japanese vessel, and to open several ports to Japanese
traders. It was through this treaty that Corea was first introduced to
the comity of nations. One of the professed objects of Japan during the
war, has, therefore, been to establish the independence of Corea, which
she has recognized in her treaties, against the Chinese claim of
suzerainty. Sooner or later a war between Japan and China was
inevitable. The hereditary animosities between the two nations have been
aggravated by the marked differences which have arisen of late years
between their civilizations; by the impatience under which Japan has
struggled against an anomalous position among the powers, forced upon
her by foreign treaties, while she has beheld her mediæval rival holding
precedence and predominance; and by the jealousy and fanatic contempt
with which the subjects of the “Son of Heaven” have watched the growing
political aspirations of Japan, her conciliatory attitude towards
foreigners, and her apostate abandonment of the manners and customs of
oriental life.
For years, moreover, an excuse for a collision has been developing in
the relations of the two states to Corea. In spite of the liberal
sympathies of the Corean king himself, the ascendant force in the
government has long been the Ming faction, to which family the queen
belongs, which is pro-Chinese in its sympathies, foe to everything
savoring of western liberal progress. Under the sway of this faction,
which has monopolized the highest magistracies, government in Corea has
been nothing more nor less than systematic plunder of the masses, for
the benefit of a few privileged nobles. The admitted misgovernment of
the country, which has always jeopardized the lives and property of
aliens; the suzerain claims of China; the vast commercial interests of
Japan in the peninsula and her large colonies; and finally the
complicated treaty arrangements which have grown up between Tokio and
Peking with regard to the “Hermit Kingdom”—these have long constituted a
source of friction, in the knowledge of which the present conflict
between the mandarins and the daimios is more readily understood. It is
significant that while China has never formally given up her claim to
lordship over Corea, she has refused to stand by her vassal on certain
occasions, and has encouraged the latter to conduct negotiations on her
own account. This was indeed the action of China in 1876, when the
treaty with Japan was made, and the latter seized the opportunity to
recognize the king of Corea as an independent sovereign prince. The
immediate cause of the war is centered around the disputed question of
the right of both parties to keep troops on Corean soil, a right which
both have exercised more than once. It is the origin of this right and
the complications that have arisen from it, that we must now trace with
reference to the outbreak of the war.
[Illustration:
JAPANESE ARMY AT CHIN-LIEN-CHENG.
Japanese Drawing.
]
Corea for ages has been the pupil of China, whence nearly everything
that makes up civilization has been borrowed. Of patriotism in its
highest sense, of pure love of country, of willingness to make
sacrifices for native land, there have been little in the kingdom. Such
things are new thoughts nourished by a few far-seeing patriots. But
leavening the multitude of Confucian fanatics and time-servers of the
men in power at Peking, there are also men who have drunk at other
fountains of thought, entered new worlds of knowledge, and seen the
light of modern science, of Christianity, and of western civilization in
other lands. The numbers of enlightened men are increasing who believe
in national progress, though to their demands there has ever been the
defiance of vigilant conservation. Even within the two broadly defined
parties, there are factional and family differences. Against the craft
of the Ming clan the other noble families, Ni, So, Kim, Hong, and
others, have been able to make headway only by adroit combination.
In 1875 the two noblemen Kim-ok-Kiun and So Kwang Pom secretly left
Corea and went to Japan, being the first men of rank in recent times to
travel in lands beyond China. On their return they sought the king and
boldly told him what they had seen. Other noblemen followed their
example, but the brother-in-law of the king, Pak Hong Hio, was the first
who at risk of reputation and life openly advocated the adoption of
western civilization. In 1882 Kim and So in earnest consideration of the
opening of their country to modern ideas, endeavored to persuade Min
Yong Ik to join them and also win over his powerful Ming relatives to a
liberal policy. When this came to the ears of the Tai-wen Kun the young
men were forthwith charged with intent to introduce Christianity, and
the two liberals narrowly escaped being put to death by the old regent
who had already shed the blood of thousands.
[Illustration: THE COREAN REGENT.]
The men of the Ming faction held aloof from treaty negotiations with the
United States until China gave the nod. When at last Li Hung Chang
advised Corea to treat with Admiral Shufeldt, the Ming nobles obeyed and
exhibited so much energy in the matter as to seem to foreigners to be
the leaders of the party of progress. The old regent at once felt it his
duty to overthrow both the Mings and the treaty. His opportunity came in
July, 1882, the year of the treaties. When on account of the short rice
crop the soldiers’ rations were cut down by the father of Min Yong Ik,
the artful politician directed their revolt against this pro-Chinese
family, and after destroying, as he imagined, the queen and the leading
men of the Ming clan, he seized the government itself and for a few days
enjoyed full power. When the news of the usurpation reached China and
Japan there were in Tien-tsin three Corean nobles, Cho Yong Ha, Kim Yun
Sik, and O-Yun Chung; and in Tokio Kim-ok-Kiun and So Kwang Pom. The
former, notified by telegram from the Chinese consul at Nagasaki of the
movements of the Japanese, obtained a Chinese military and naval force,
and the ships of these two foreign nations met at Chemulpo. Before
either the Chinese or Japanese troops were disembarked, the two groups
of Corean noblemen had a conference, and after a long and warm
discussion it was agreed to submit the question whether the Chinese
should land and proceed to Seoul, to the king himself. Accordingly
Kim-ok-Kiun in disguise penetrated to the capital, but only to find the
royal person in possession of his old and chief enemy Tai-wen Kun, his
friends driven away, and approach to the palace impossible. On learning
the failure of Kim’s mission the Chinese force at once landed, marched
to Seoul, abducted the regent, built forts to command the river against
the Japanese, and established their camp inside the walls. This act of
China gave her a new lien on Corea. The father of Min Yong Ik, Min Thai
Ho, who had been supposed to have been mortally wounded, recovered and
resumed office. Min Yong Ik, who after fleeing to the mountains, shaved
his head and in the disguise of a priest had fled to Japan, returned
smiling after temporary defeat. The queen, for whom a palace maid had
suffered vicarious death, re-entered the capital and palace, and the
star of the Mings was again in the ascendant.
Two years later, in June, 1884, Min Yong Ik and So Kwang Pom, the first
Coreans to go around the world, reached home followed by Kim-ok-Kiun and
the Tokio students from Japan. After an enthusiastic reception of the
returned envoys and the American officers of the Trenton in Seoul, the
public opinion in favor of progress was greatly stimulated. Min Yong Ik
was made vice-president of the Foreign Office and the others of the
embassy were elevated in rank. The Chinese military instructors were
dismissed by the king. A model farm sown with American seeds, and for
which California live stock was ordered, Edison electric lights,
American rifles and Gatling guns, Japanese artisans to establish
potteries and other industries, gave indications of the new path of
national progress upon which Corea had entered.
Min Yong Ik while abroad has passed for an enlightened man, susceptible
to modern ideas and in favor of opening Corea to commerce. Yet falling
under the influence of his clan he had been home but a few weeks when he
came to open rupture with Hong Yong Sik. Resigning from the foreign
office he assumed command of the palace guard battalion and restored
Chinese drill masters, the military students from Japan being left to
gain their support as subordinates in the proposed postal department. By
autumn the late envoy to the United States had surrounded himself with
Chinese and pro-Chinese conservatives, the progressive men had been
hampered in their action, and the revenues for the promised enterprises
and industries had been diverted to warlike preparations, that looked as
if Corea, as a vassal, was to help China against France in the Tonquin
complication.
The situation in Seoul became alarming. A state of hostility existed
between the leaders of the two political parties, one of which had at
their call a rabble of rapacious militia, eager to try their new tools
upon their hereditary enemies, the Japanese, while the other knew full
well the sterling quality of the little body of Japanese infantry.
Fifteen hundred Chinese soldiers were still in the camp under General
Yuen. In such a situation, the government being in the hands of their
rivals and committed to the pro-Chinese policy, the liberals felt that
their heads were likely to remain on their shoulders only so long as it
pleased their enemies to bring no charge against them. In nations
without representative institutions, revolutions and outbreaks must be
expected when a change of policy is decided upon.
Let us see how the Corean liberals attempted, when beset and thwarted,
to save their own lives and reverse the policy of the government. On
October 25, one of the liberal leaders intimated to an American that
“for the sake of Corea” about ten of the prominent conservatives “would
have to be killed.” The idea was to remove their rivals by removing the
heads of the same, seize the government, inaugurate new schemes of
progress, open new ports, and otherwise commit Corea to the same course
as that upon which Japan had entered. They supposed that the treaty
powers would condone and approve their action, make further favorable
treaties, and loan money for national improvement. Further, they claimed
to have had the royal sanction. The autumn passed by and the moment
seemed ripe for the plot. China, pressed by France, had withdrawn half
her troops from Seoul, and Japan, with a view to strengthening her
influence in the peninsula, had a few days before remitted $400,000 of
the indemnity exacted for the riot of 1882. The time to strike a blow
for Corean independence and to break the shackles of China forever
seemed to have come.
On the evening of December 4, the foreign envoys and several high
officers of the government were invited to a banquet to celebrate the
inauguration of the postal service. When it was nearly over, an alarm of
fire was given from the outside, according to arrangement of the
conspirators, and Min Yong Ik, going out to look, was set upon by
assassins, but instead of being killed as was intended, was only
wounded. Thereupon the liberal leaders hastened to the palace, and
assuring the king that he was in great danger, in his name sent to the
Japanese minister for the Japanese legation guard. At the same time the
conservative leaders were summoned, as they supposed by the king; as
fast as they stepped out of their sedan chairs at the palace gates, they
were relieved of their heads. Meanwhile the Japanese infantry commanded
the inner gates of the palace, and during the next day the new ministers
of government, the liberals whose names have already become familiar to
us, prepared edicts to be issued by the king reforming ancient abuses
and customs, and instituting new and radical measures of national
policy. The city was in a state of commotion, but despite the surging
crowd no actual outbreak occurred.
[Illustration: COREAN NATIVES VIEWING JAPANESE SOLDIERS.]
On the morning of the 6th the cry was raised “death to the Japanese,”
and then began a wild revelry of outrage, butchery, and incendiarism, in
which the newly-trained militia were conspicuous. The white foreigners
in Seoul, nine in number, of whom three were ladies, had gathered at the
American legation, which under Lieutenant Bernadon’s directions was put
in a state of defense. In it twenty-two Japanese also found refuge.
That afternoon the Chinese troops, six hundred strong, commanded by
General Yuen and backed by three thousand Coreans, moved upon the palace
to drive out the Japanese. With superb discipline and skill Captain
Murakami and his little band drove off their assailants, and through the
narrow streets reached the legation at 8:00 P.M. after forty-eight
hours’ absence. The score of soldiers left behind, aided by the hundred
or so of civilians who had gathered within, had successfully defended
the enclosure from the mob. Provisions being exhausted, the Japanese
with admirable coolness, discipline, and success began the march to the
sea on the afternoon of the next day. Despite hostile soldiery with
rifles and cannon, armed men firing from roof and wall, barred city
gates, and a mob following them to the Han river, they crossed with
their wounded and reached Chemulpo on the morning of the 8th. There they
were fed by the sailors of the men-of-war, while a Japanese steamer
carried the news to Nagasaki.
The short-lived liberal government came to an end after an existence of
less than forty-eight hours. Hong Yong Sik, refusing to leave the king,
was taken with him to the Chinese camp and there beheaded. The other
conspirators fled to Japan, whence they were demanded by the Corean
ministerial council, which demand was by the Japanese promptly refused.
The torture and trial of twelve persons implicated in the affair was
concluded January 27, 1885, and eleven were executed in the usual
barbarous manner. Their bodies were chopped in pieces and the flesh and
bones distributed in fragments through the streets of the city and the
different provinces. The refugees ultimately reached America, except
Kim-ok-Kiun who settled in Japan.
Count Inouye of Japan and Kim Hong Chip of Corea on January 9; and
Inouye and Li Hung Chang, of China, on May 7 concluded conventions by
which the troubles were settled. The chief points in the diplomacy were
the payment of indemnity by Corea to Japan, and a joint agreement
between China and Japan to withdraw their troops. Both camps were
emptied on the 20th, and on the 21st of May the troops left Chemulpo for
their respective countries. October 5 the Tai-wen Kun, now sixty-eight
years old, but fresh as a man of forty and able as ever to be a
disturbing element, returned from China and re-entered Seoul under a
guard of Chinese warriors and many thousands of Coreans.
The affair was in its origin an anti-Chinese uprising of radical
progressives, but in its ending an anti-Japanese demonstration. About
three hundred lives were lost by battle and murder. The conduct of the
American minister, General Foote, during this trying occasion, was most
admirable, and the legation, which sheltered all the foreigners and many
Japanese, was kept open and the American flag was never lowered.
Even in these troublous times a way was opened for the entrance of
western science and reformed Christianity. Dr. Henry N. Allen, a
missionary physician from Ohio, was called upon to attend Min Yong Ik
and the wounded Chinese soldiers. The superiority of modern methods
being at once manifest, the government became interested, and the
dwelling occupied by Hong Yong Sik, who had been beheaded, was set aside
as a hospital under Dr. Allen’s charge. From that time forward several
missionaries from American churches have entered active work in Corea,
and three American young men engaged by the Corean government as
teachers have begun to devise an educational system for the kingdom.
There are now native Christian churches in Seoul, a hospital, schools,
orphanages, and a college. Americans were chosen as advisers and
assistants of the nation. Three military officers to organize her army,
naval officers to inaugurate a navy, commissioners of customs, and a
counsellor in the foreign office were among these.
Renouncing the idea of the suzerainty of China over Corea, the king and
government sent embassies to Japan, Europe, and the United States, to
establish permanent legations. This movement was opposed by the Chinese,
and especially by the Minister Yuen in an active, impudent, and even
villainous manner. Yuen, who led the Chinese troops during the riot of
December, 1884, and who escorted the Tai-wen Kun to Corea, is believed
to have plotted to dethrone the king and set up another son of the old
regent as a pro-Chinese partisan on the throne. Expecting to make use of
the Corean military, whom he had drilled in person, his plot was exposed
by Min Yong Ik. To checkmate any design of China, to prevent the
departure of the envoys, or to convert her nominal authority into
assertions of sovereignty or suzerainty, the Honorable Hugh N. Densmore,
our minister, by the orders of the United States government, invited the
embassy to take passage from Chemulpo in the United States Steamship
Omaha, which was done. In charge of Dr. H.N. Allen, Pak Chung Yang, a
noble of the second rank, envoy extraordinary and minister
plenipotentiary of the king of Corea, arrived in Washington and had
audience of President Cleveland in January, 1888.
When Kim-ok-Kiun, the leader of the insurrection of 1884, fled to Japan,
he was welcomed by the Japanese and received as a protege of the
emperor. Repeated demands were made by Corea upon the mikado to
surrender him, and the demands were as repeatedly refused. In the spring
of 1894 he was lured by means of a dummy draft on a non-existing bank in
China, to Shanghai, where on March 28, at the Japanese hotel, and in the
absence of his Japanese attendant, he was foully murdered by his
pretended friend, Hong Tjyong On, a tool of the Ming faction. This man
had been in the employ of the Ming faction of the Corean government with
the mission of the assassination entrusted to him, and if the crime was
not committed by order of the king of Corea, as was popularly believed,
it was surely by order of the queen, who has been strong in her
influence. The murderer was arrested; but instead of being tried by the
Chinese was handed over to a Corean official, who, with the assassin and
the corpse, was sent to Corea. There in spite of the protestations of
foreign representatives, the body of Kim was horribly mutilated, parts
of it being sent to the different provinces, while the murderer was
rewarded with high official honor.
This murder of a Corean by another Corean in a port under Chinese
jurisdiction, though coupled with the subsequent brutalities at Seoul,
could not be made a subject of diplomatic remonstrance; but it served in
Japan to rouse the deepest public indignation and intense disgust. The
Japanese government was not only outraged by the assassination of Kim,
but by the conduct of Yu, the Corean minister at Tokio. Two brothers
named Ken, at the time of Kim’s murder, attempted to bring the same fate
upon Boku Eiko, Kim’s fellow conspirator. Their plot having been
discovered, they fled to Yu for protection. For three days he refused to
give them up, but finally surrendered them and took a hasty and
undignified departure from the country. The Japanese foreign office,
having in vain sought an explanation of the motives of the king of Corea
in connection with Kim’s assassination, and of the precipitate and
undiplomatic flight of the Corean representative, was glad to seize the
first opportunity which arose before long, when other events occurred
which gave Japan occasion to act.
[Illustration: SINKING OF THE KOW-SHING.]
For some time past the peninsular kingdom has been in a disturbed
condition, owing to the spread of rebellious confederacies among the
people. There was now quite a general uprising of Coreans, caused by
their want of sympathy with the government, and focussed by their
indignation at the horrible fate of Kim. In May, a formidable peasant
uprising occurred in northern Corea, caused mainly by the official
extortion practiced by tax-gatherers, but having in it elements of
remonstrance against the assassination of Kim. The government troops
were defeated May 16 at Reisan; and on May 31 Zenshu fell into the hands
of the insurgents. Later Chung Jui was captured, and Seoul, the capital,
was in a state of great commotion. The discovery of a plot to blow up
the government building during the annual official meeting of the king
and his ministers caused immense excitement. The plot was confessed by
one of the conspirators, and warrants were issued for the arrest of one
thousand persons implicated or suspected.
In alarm the government appealed to China for assistance, and early in
June an armed Chinese force numbering about two thousand was dispatched,
from Chefoo to Asan, a port lying a little southwest of Seoul, where it
encamped.
In the treaty of Tien-tsin, both Japan and China agreed to withdraw
their troops from the peninsula, neither power to send soldiers thither
again, without giving to the other power preliminary notice of the
intended action. In the present struggle, Japan has declared from the
beginning that she intended to carry her action into Corea no further
than the treaty of 1885 allowed, and the necessity for restoring order
and stability required her to do. When these troops were sent, the
stipulated notification to Japan it is declared, was delayed until after
their departure. Actuated by distrust of Chinese motives, and looking to
the protection of her commercial interests and the safety of the
Japanese residents and traders in Corea, the authorities at Tokio
quickly followed by landing a force of six thousand troops on the
western coast. A strong force was soon stationed in Seoul, for the
protection of the Japanese legation, and the approaches to the capital
were securely occupied.
[Illustration: MR. OTORI BEFORE THE COMMISSIONERS.]
Then began the diplomatic campaign, Japan seizing the opportunity
offered to insist on a final understanding with both China and the
Corean government, regarding the matters which had long been the source
of friction, and a constant menace to tranquility in the peninsula. On
June 28 a communication passed between Mr. Otori, the Japanese minister,
and the Corean foreign office, regarding the tributary relations between
Corea and China. To this the Corean government returned an evasive
reply. July 3, Mr. Otori laid before the Corean government in a
courteously worded note, the draft of a scheme of reforms which Japan
proposed, as a remedy for the disorders of the country, under the
following five general heads:
1. The civil government in the capital and in the provinces to be
thoroughly reformed, and the departments arranged on a new basis under
proper responsible heads.
2. The resources of the country to be developed, mines opened, railways
constructed, etc.
3. The laws of the country to be radically reformed.
4. The military establishments to be reorganized under competent
instructors, so as to render the country secure alike from internal
disorder and external attack.
5. Education to be thoroughly reformed on modern lines.
Mr. Otori asked for the appointment of a commission to discuss details,
and on July 10, unfolded before the three commissioners, in twenty-five
proposals, the details of the contemplated reforms. They were of such a
character as to weaken greatly the influence of the queen and the
dominant Ming party. Personages of too great influence were to be
removed; the foreign customs establishment to be abolished; all foreign
advisers to be dispensed with; the resources of the country to be
developed; railways, telegraphs and a mint to be established; the legal
and judicial systems to be radically reformed, and a school system to be
adopted, beginning with primary schools and culminating in universities,
with provisions for sending pupils abroad.
These reforms were declared to be as essential to the true welfare of
Corea and China, as to the interests of Japan. It being impossible,
however, for the Coreans to effect them themselves, Japan proposed joint
action on the part of herself and China with a view to the desired
object. This proposal however, China curtly refused even to discuss, so
long as any Japanese troops remained in Corea. She assured Japan that
the peasant rebellion had been quieted, which was true in a sense, for
the insurgents, after the landing of the Chinese regulars, had
temporarily stayed their onward progress; but the cause of the trouble
still remained. From the moment of this deadlock we may date the
unofficial beginning of the war. The formal declaration was not made
until about two weeks later.
[Illustration: JAPANESE ARMY ON THE MARCH.]
THE BEGINNINGS OF HOSTILITIES.
--------------
Japan Decides to Reform Corea without China’s Aid—Corean Palace Guards
Fire on the Japanese Escort of Minister Otori—Momentous Result of the
Skirmish—Announcement of Corean Independence—Tai-wen Kun as Prime
Minister—The First Collision at Sea—Sinking of the Kow-shing—Fighting
Around Asan—Defeat of the Chinese—Li Hung Chang Declares that the War
Will Be Fought to the Bitter End—Japan’s Formal Declaration of
War—China’s Response—The Conflict Begun.
Failing to secure China’s co-operation, Mr. Otori told the officials at
Seoul that the government was now determined of her own accord to see
the needed reforms carried out. The Corean government still showing no
disposition to acquiesce in his proposals, the Japanese minister
determined to have a personal interview with the king, of whose sympathy
with the policy of the Ming party, there was some doubt. The minister
had regarded the reply of the Corean government to his demands as
insolent, and knowing that its substance had been made known to the
Corean officers, he felt an apprehension of violence toward himself and
the members of the legation. He therefore insisted on being accompanied
by a strong escort of Japanese on the occasion of any further visits to
the palace.
On the morning of July 23, attended by this escort of Japanese guards,
and accompanied by the father of the king, Mr. Otori set out from the
legation for the purpose of having another interview with the Corean
monarch. As the minister with his fully armed escort approached the
palace, they were fired upon by troops in the service of the Ming
ministry, some of whom were stationed within the palace walls. The fire
was promptly returned by the Japanese, and a sharp skirmish ensued which
lasted twenty minutes. One Japanese cavalryman and two foot-soldiers
were wounded; while the Corean loss was seventeen killed and seventy
wounded. When quiet was restored, the Japanese were in possession of the
palace. The result of the fight was momentous—the complete overthrow of
the Ming, or pro-Chinese faction in the Corean government.
On the same day the Corean king formally announced his independence of
China. One of his first acts was to request an interview with Mr. Otori,
and before the interview had ended that day the Japanese ministers saw
the Tai-wen Kun, father of the king, and formerly regent during the
latter’s minority, formally installed as prime minister and instructed
to introduce administrative reforms such as Japan had proposed. A
written pledge was signed by the king, guaranteeing that the remedying
of social and political abuses should begin as soon as the proper
machinery could be put in operation; the old counsellors of the king
were replaced by men believed to be in sympathy with progressive
principles. Japan on her part made herself responsible for the execution
of these pledges. The part taken by the king in the reforms is somewhat
uncertain. One of the most eminent authorities on Corean affairs has
declared that the king himself cannot be looked upon as a potent factor
in the struggle; that he is a weak, amiable, nervous man, whose only
importance consists in the fact that he is a king and in the sanction
that his presence, and authority, and seal may be considered to lend to
the party with which he sides. He has not been on good terms with his
father, and when the Japanese placed the latter in charge there was
considerable uncertainty as to the results that would follow.
The same day that this skirmish at the palace occurred between Corean
and Japanese troops, a report was sent out which might have involved
Great Britain in the eastern war. It was alleged that ill-treatment had
been offered by the Japanese troops to the British consul-general at
Seoul, Mr. Gardner and his wife. The assertion was that the Japanese
troops forbade their passing the line of sentries which had been drawn
around an encampment, and that unnecessary force had been used to
accomplish this. The falsity of the charges, or the fact that they were
very much overdrawn, was proved upon the first investigation, no
regulations being in force except those natural and proper in such
times.
The situation in Corea developed very slowly. The ways of the east are
not as the ways of the west, and one of the most deeply-rooted and
highly-prized instincts which oriental diplomatists have inherited from
a long line of their ancestors is a profound belief in the merits of
procrastination.
The first important collision at sea occurred in Prince Jerome gulf,
about forty miles off Chemulpo, on July 25, one week before the formal
declaration of war. Up to the night of July 19, the highest authorities
at Tien-tsin did not anticipate war, but as a matter of watchful policy
the war-office chartered the British steamers Irene, Fei Ching, and
Kow-shing, belonging to the Indo-Chinese Steam Navigation company, and a
number of Chinese merchant steamers, for the transportation of troops.
The object was to transport the second division from Taku to Asan, to
reinforce the Chinese army in that Corean city. The Irene was the first
to leave Taku, July 21, with one thousand one hundred and fifty troops,
with one of the owners and his wife on board; the other two vessels were
to leave on the 22nd and 23rd.
[Illustration: PROCESSION IN SEOUL.]
The Kow-shing was an iron vessel, schooner-rigged, of one thousand three
hundred and fifty tons, built at Barrow and belonging to the port of
London. She sailed from Taku July 23, with no cargo, but with one
thousand two hundred Chinese troops on board. All went well with the
transport until the second morning, July 25, when about nine o’clock the
vessel was sighted by a Japanese man-of-war, the Naniwa Kan. The Naniwa
was accompanied by two other men-of-war, one of which was the Matsusima,
on board of which was the Japanese admiral. The Kow-shing was ordered by
signal, “Stop where you are or take the consequences.” She promptly
anchored. Then the Naniwa steamed up and sent a boarding party to the
Kow-shing.
The officers in command made a strict scrutiny of the ship’s papers, and
after some hesitation as to his course of action, peremptorily ordered
the Kow-shing to follow. This caused great excitement amongst the
troops, who said to the English officers of the ship, “We refuse to
become prisoners and would rather die here. If you move the ship, except
to return to China, we will kill you.” The Japanese having returned to
their own vessel, the European officers on the Kow-shing argued with the
Chinese to convince them that it would be wiser to surrender, thus
saving the life of all and the ship itself. These arguments had no
effect on the Chinese, and the Kow-shing then signalled to the Naniwa to
send another boat.
Captain Von Hannecken explained the situation to the Japanese boarding
officer, pointing out that there had been no declaration of war, that
the Kow-shing was a British ship under the British flag, and that owing
to the position taken by the Chinese it was physically impossible for
the officers of the vessels to obey the Naniwa’s order. He claimed that
the flag should be respected, and that the ship should be escorted back
to the Chinese coast. The boarding party then returned to the Naniwa,
which thereupon signalled “Quit the ship as soon as possible.” The
Kow-shing officers replied that it was impossible to quit the ship,
owing to the threats of the Chinese. The Naniwa threw an answering
pennant, and steamed quickly into position, broadside on, at a distance
of about two hundred yards. Mr. Tamplin, the chief officer of the
Kow-shing, tells a graphic story of the scene that followed.
[Illustration:
AFTER THE BATTLE.
From a Sketch by a Japanese Artist.
]
“The Chinese were greatly excited, and kept drawing their fingers across
their throats in order to show us what we might expect. The British
officers, and Captain Von Hannecken, were anxiously gathered on the
bridge, and the bodyguards were at the bottom of the ladder watching us
like cats. Two executioners fully armed were told off to follow the
captain and myself, and they dogged us everywhere with drawn scepters.
About one o’clock the Naniwa opened fire, first discharging a torpedo at
the Kow-shing, which did not strike her. The man-of-war then fired a
broadside of five heavy guns, and continued firing both heavy and
machine guns from deck and tops until the Kow-shing sank about an hour
later. The Kow-shing was first struck right amidships, and the sound of
the crashing and splintering was almost deafening. To add to the danger,
the Chinese rushed to the other side, causing the ship to heel over more
than ever. As soon as the Kow-shing was struck the soldiers made a rush.
I rushed from the bridge, got a life-belt, and jumped overboard forward.
While in the wheel house selecting a life-belt I passed another
European, but I had no time to see who it was. It was a regular _sauve
qui peut_. Mr. Wake, our third officer, said it was no use for him to
take to the water, as he could not swim, and he went down with the ship.
“After jumping into the water I came foul of the chain, down which the
Chinese were swarming. As I came to the surface the boiler exploded with
terrific noise. I looked up and saw Captain Von Hannecken striking out
vigorously. Captain Galsworthy, the master of the vessel, was also close
by, his face perfectly black from the explosion. All of us went in the
direction of the island of Shotai-ul, which was about a mile and a half
to the northeast, swimming through the swarm of dead and dying Chinamen.
Bullets began to strike the water on every side, and turning to see
whence they came, I saw that the Chinese herding around the only part of
the Kow-shing that was then out of water, were firing at us. I was
slightly hit on the shoulder, and in order to protect my head covered it
with the life-belt until I got clear of the sinking vessel. When I
succeeded in doing this, and got away from the swarms of Chinamen, I
swam straight for the Naniwa. I had been in the water nearly an hour
when I was picked up by one of the Naniwa’s boats. While in the water I
passed two Chinese warriors clinging to a sheep which was swimming
vigorously. As soon as I was on board the Naniwa’s boat, I told the
officer in which direction the captain had gone, and he said that he had
already sent another boat to pick him up. By this time only the
Kow-shing’s masts were visible. The water was however covered with
Chinese, and there were two lifeboats from the Kow-shing crowded with
soldiers. The Japanese officer informed me that he had been ordered by
signal from the Naniwa to sink these boats. I remonstrated, but he fired
two volleys from the cutter, turned back, and steamed for the Naniwa. No
attempt was made to rescue the Chinese. The Naniwa steamed about until
eight o’clock in the evening, but did not pick up any other Europeans.”
The Irene, which had been the first vessel to leave Taku, herself had a
narrow escape from an attack. She sighted a war vessel at eleven o’clock
on the night of July 23, but by at once putting out all her lights was
enabled to escape, and reached Asan early the next morning. The Chinese
cruisers Chih Yuen and Kwang Kai, and the training ship Wei Yuen were at
anchor. The troops were at once disembarked, and about nine o’clock the
same morning the Irene left for Chefoo, arriving at four o’clock the
afternoon of the 25th. Being under orders to proceed to Chemulpo to
bring back refugees, she sailed at noon the next day in company with the
British ship Archer. When some distance from Chefoo, the Irene was
hailed by the Fei Ching, and informed that the troop ship Kow-shing had
been sunk by Japanese war vessels. It was decided to take the Irene into
Wei-hai-wei and confer with Admiral Ting as to the advisability of her
going to Chemulpo; he advised her return to Chefoo.
The same morning, July 26, the cruiser Chih Yuen arrived at Wei-hai-wei
from Asan, and reported that shortly after leaving that port, the new
Japanese cruiser Yoshino fired on her and her consort, the Kwang Kai,
unexpectedly, and a shell, piercing the bow turret, exploded, killing
the entire crew serving one gun, and disabling the turret. As soon as
the Chih Yuen got a little sea-room, her steering-gear having been
disabled, she maneuvered and fought with her stern gun, one shell from
which swept away the entire bridge of her opponent. A second shell
striking the same place, the Japanese ceased firing and hoisted a white
flag over a Chinese ensign, but Captain Hong, of the Chih Yuen, having
his bow guns and his steering gear disabled, and other Japanese coming
up, decided to make for Wei-hai-wei and report to the admiral. The first
lieutenant of the Chih Yuen was speaking through the tube, directing the
men, when a shot struck him and he fell dead. Twelve of the crew were
killed and thirty wounded. The Japanese vessel suffering somewhat less.
The Kow-shing affair caused a complete change in the attitude of the
Chinese government and in the foreign mind. The viceroy, Li Hung Chang,
declared in an interview that if war was once provoked, China would
fight to the bitter end. Japan was attacked in the European press for
having sent a British ship to the bottom, even though it were loaded
with Chinese soldiers, inasmuch as war had not been declared. The
Japanese government at once instructed the minister in London to
apologize to Great Britain for firing on the British flag, which was
floating over the Kow-shing, and it was talked in every quarter that a
heavy indemnity would be required from Japan. As further details became
known, however, European and American sentiment began to shift. A
British consular court of inquiry called to investigate the matter,
decided that inasmuch as the two nations were virtually in a state of
war at the time, though no formal declaration had been made, the
Japanese commander was justified in his action on the ground that the
Kow-shing was violating neutrality. The demand for an indemnity was
practically abandoned on account of a clause contained in the ship’s
charter to the effect that in the event of an outbreak of hostilities
between China and Japan, the Kow-shing should be considered Chinese
property. The case was therefore ended, so far as the action of nations
outside of China and Japan was concerned. Less than two hundred were
saved, out of nearly twelve hundred souls who were on board the vessel.
French, German, and Italian gunboats which were cruising near, brought
to Chefoo the few Chinese survivors, and several of the European
officers were saved by the Japanese. Captain Von Hannecken was rescued
by a fisherman’s boat, and made his way back to China.
Immediately following the date of these sea battles, hard fighting began
at and around Asan, where the body of Chinese troops was intrenched.
Early on the morning of July 29 the Chinese troops, who had left their
fortifications at Asan, were attacked by General Oshima, the commander
of Japanese armies in Corea, at Seikwan. The Japanese gained a decisive
victory. After a hard fought battle in which one hundred Chinese were
killed and five hundred wounded, out of twenty-eight hundred troops
engaged, while the Japanese lost less than one hundred, the Chinese were
forced back towards Asan, their entrenchment at Chan Hon having been
captured. During the night the Chinese evacuated Asan, abandoning large
quantities of ammunition and some guns, and fled in the direction of
Koshu. When the Japanese reached Asan early in the morning of the 30th
they found the trenches deserted. Many flags, four cannon, and a
quantity of other munitions of war were captured, and the victorious
troops took possession of the enemy’s headquarters.
Elated by the results of the actions which had occurred, Japan was now
hurrying troops into the field. Thousands of soldiers were shipped in
transports and stationed in Chemulpo, in Seoul, along the Great Northern
road in Fusan, and finally around Asan, sixty miles south of Chemulpo,
out of which the Chinese had just been driven. Three attempts at
mediation had been made with a desire to avert war by diplomatic
interference, first by Russia, then by England, and lastly by England
supported by all the powers, but Japan was ready and anxious to prove
her prowess over her ancient enemy, and to show to western nations the
strength that she had acquired; while there were ample and strong
reasons which appeared to the Japanese worthy ones why they should wage
war upon China. They asserted that the best interests of civilization
and humanity demanded this action and the time had come to begin.
Belligerent acts had multiplied and formal action became necessary,
without further delay. August 3 was the important date which marked the
formal beginning of warlike operations.
The announcements to the world that an oriental war was actually to be
waged, were in every way characteristic of the people and the habits of
the two belligerent nations. Each one took pains to declare its power
and the age of the reigning dynasty. Japan however took its greatest
pride, very evidently, in the advance of its civilization, and the
introduction of western methods in diplomacy as well as elsewhere.
China, on the other hand, was more verbose, and at the same time very
scornful of the fighting strength of the ancient rival. Each of course
took pains to justify her own actions and cast all the odium of the war
on the other.
[Illustration:
THE ATTACK ON PING-YANG.
(Japanese Entering at the Gate of the Tai-Dong River Bridge.)
]
Japan’s formal declaration of war appeared in the “Official Gazette,”
and in substance was as follows:
“We, by the grace of heaven, Emperor of Japan, seated on a throne
occupied by the same dynasty from time immemorial, do hereby make
proclamation to all our loyal and brave subjects as follows: We hereby
declare war against China, and we command each and all of our competent
authorities, in obedience to our wish, and with a view to the attainment
of the national aim, to carry on hostilities by sea and land against
China, with all the means at their disposal, consistently with the law
of nations.
“Over twenty years have now elapsed since our accession to the throne.
During this time we have consistently pursued a policy of peace, being
deeply impressed with a sense of the undesirability of being in strained
relations with other nations, and have always directed our officials
diligently to endeavor to promote friendship with all the treaty powers.
Fortunately our intercourse with the nations has continued to increase
in intimacy.
“We were therefore unprepared for such a conspicuous want of amity and
of good faith, as has been manifested by China in her conduct towards
this country in connection with the Corean affairs. Corea is an
independent state. She was first introduced into the family of nations
by the advice and under the guidance of Japan. It has however, been
China’s habit to designate Corea as her dependency, and both openly and
secretly to interfere with her domestic affairs. At the time of the
recent civil insurrection in Corea, China dispatched troops thither,
alleging that her purpose was to afford succor to her dependent state.
We, in virtue of the treaty concluded with Corea in 1882, and looking to
possible emergencies, caused a military force to be sent to that
country, wishing to procure for Corea freedom from the calamity of
perpetual disturbance, and thereby to maintain the peace of the east in
general. Japan invited China’s co-operation for the accomplishment of
that object; but China, advancing various pretexts, declined Japan’s
proposal.
“Thereupon Japan advised Corea to reform her administration, so that
order might be preserved at home, and so that the country might be able
to discharge the responsibilities and duties of an independent state
abroad. Corea has already consented to undertake the task, but China has
insidiously endeavored to circumvent and thwart Japan’s purpose. She has
further procrastinated and endeavored to make warlike preparations, both
on land and at sea. When these preparations were completed, she not only
sent large re-enforcements to Corea with a view to the attainment of her
ambitious designs, but even carried her arbitrariness and insolence to
the extent of opening fire upon our ships in Corean waters.
“China’s plain object is to make it uncertain where the responsibility
resides for preserving peace and order in Corea, and not only to weaken
the position of that state in the family of nations—a position obtained
for Corea through Japanese efforts—but also to obscure the significance
of the treaties recognizing and confirming that position. Such conduct
on the part of China is not only a direct injury to the rights and
interests of this empire, but also a menace to the permanent peace and
tranquility of the Orient. Judging from her action, it must be concluded
that China from the beginning has been bent upon sacrificing peace to
the attainment of her sinister objects. In this situation, ardent as our
wish is to promote the prestige of the country abroad by strictly
peaceful methods, we find it impossible to avoid a formal declaration of
war against China. It is our earnest wish that by the loyalty and valor
of our faithful subjects, peace may soon be permanently restored, and
the glory of the empire be augmented and completed.”
China promptly accepted the issue thus formally raised, and published a
declaration in substance as follows:
“Corea has been our tributary for the last two hundred odd years. She
has given us tribute all of this time, which is a matter known to the
world. For the last dozen years or so Corea has been troubled by
repeated insurrections; and we in sympathy with our small tributary have
as repeatedly sent succor to her aid, eventually placing a resident in
her capital to protect Corea’s interests. In the fourth moon (May) of
this year, another rebellion was begun in Corea, and the king repeatedly
asked again for aid from us to put down the rebellion. We then ordered
Li Hung Chang to send troops to Corea, and they having barely reached
Asan, the rebels immediately scattered, but the 'Wojen' (the ancient
epithet for the Japanese expressive of contempt translated ‘pigmies’ or
more strictly according to usage ‘vermin’), without any cause whatever
sent their troops to Corea and entered Seoul, the capital of Corea,
re-enforcing them constantly until they have exceeded ten thousand men.
“In the meantime the Japanese forced the Corean king to change his
system of government, showing a disposition in every way of bullying
Coreans. It was found a difficult matter to reason with the ‘Wojen.’
Although we have been in the habit of assisting our tributaries, we have
never interfered with their internal government. Japan’s treaty with
Corea was as one country with another. There is no law for sending large
armies to bully a country in this way and to tell it to change its
system of government. Various powers are united in condemning the
conduct of the Japanese, and can give no reasonable name to the army she
now has in Corea. Nor has Japan been amenable to reason, nor will she
listen to an exhortation to withdraw her troops and confer amicably upon
what should be done in Corea. On the contrary, Japan has shown herself
belligerent without regard to appearances, and has been increasing her
forces there. Her conduct alarmed the people of Corea as well as our
merchants there, and so we sent more troops over to protect them. Judge
of our surprise then, when half way to Corea a number of the ‘Wojen’
ships suddenly appeared, and taking advantage of our unpreparedness
opened fire on our transports at a spot on the sea coast near Asan, and
damaged them, thus causing us to suffer from their treacherous conduct
which could not be foretold by us.
“As Japan has violated the treaties and not observed the international
laws, and is now running rampant with her false and treacherous actions,
beginning hostilities herself, and laying herself open to condemnation
by the various powers at large, we, therefore, desire to make it known
to the world that we have always followed the paths of philanthropy and
perfect justice throughout the whole complications, while the ‘Wojen’
and others have broken all the laws of nations and treaties which it
passed our patience to bear with. Hence we command Li Hung Chang to give
strict orders to our various armies to hasten with all speed to root the
‘Wojen’ out of their lairs. He is to send successive armies of valiant
men to Corea, in order to have the Coreans freed from bondage. We also
command Manchoo generals, viceroys, and governors of the maritime
provinces, as well as the commanders in chief of the various armies to
prepare for war and to make every effort to fire on the ‘Wojen’ ships if
they come into our ports, and utterly destroy them. We exhort our
generals to refrain from the least laxity in obeying our commands, in
order to avoid severe punishment at our hands. Let all know this edict
as if addressed to themselves individually.”
Immediately following China’s declaration of war, the Chinese Imperial
Foreign Office addressed an important circular letter to the ministers
of the various European countries, and of the United States, to be
forwarded to their respective governments. The message began abruptly
with the announcement that some time ago a rebellion broke out in the
district of Chung in Corea, and the king of that country sent a written
application for Chinese assistance through Li Hung Chang, Viceroy of the
North.
“Our Imperial Majesty,” the message continued, “considering that on
previous occasions rebellion in Corea had been suppressed by our
assistance, dispatched troops, which did not however enter Seoul, but
went direct to the scene, with a view to exterminating the rebellion. At
the first rumor of their approach the rebels dispersed, and our army,
having brought merciful relief to the distressed people, meditated a
victorious retirement. To our astonishment Japan also dispatched troops
to Corea, pretending that it was for the purpose of assisting to quell
the rebellion, but their real object being to occupy Seoul, which they
did, posting themselves at all the important passes. They continued to
re-enforce themselves, until the number of their troops rose to upwards
of ten thousand, when they demanded that Corea should repudiate her
allegiance to China, and declare herself independent. Japan further drew
up many rules and regulations for the alteration of the Corean
government, which they required the king to conform to in every detail.
That Corea has been a dependency of China from time immemorial is known
to all the world, and therefore when your different respective
governments established treaties with that nation, such treaties were
approved and recorded by ourselves. For Japan to ignore this in so high
handed a manner, is an offense against the dignity and authority of
China, and a grave breach of the pre-existing harmonious relations.”
[Illustration:
OPENING THE GATES AT PING-YANG.
Japanese Drawing.
]
The message comments upon the doubtful right of any country to interfere
with the internal administration of the affairs of the neighboring
states, and adds that while friendly counsel and exhortation may
sometimes be permissible, the enforcement of suggestions of reform by
direct and strenuous coercion and armed invasion cannot be tolerated. It
is impossible, the message declares, for China to submit to such
ignominious treatment, which would be equally intolerable to any of the
respective governments to which the message is addressed. Reference is
next made to the efforts of the British and Russian governments through
their representatives to induce Japan to withdraw her forces from Seoul,
thus making possible the peaceful negotiation of Corean affairs.
“This,” says the circular, “was an extremely fair and just proposal, but
Japan stubbornly refused to take it into consideration, and on the
contrary strengthened her forces to such an extent that the people of
Corea and resident Chinese merchants there became daily more alarmed and
disturbed. China, out of consideration for the commendable efforts of
the different governments to effect a peaceful solution of the Corean
question, rigidly abstained from any act of bloodshed, which would have
led to great suffering and serious injury to commerce, and though it
became necessary to send further forces for the protection of the
country, we placed them at a careful distance from Seoul, studiously
avoiding a collision with the Japanese troops, which would have
occasioned the commencement of hostilities. Notwithstanding all this,
and by a most unexpected and treacherous scheme, the Japanese on July
25, collected a number of their war vessels outside the port of Asan,
and began hostilities by firing on our transports and attacking and
sinking the British steamer Kow-Shing, flying the English flag. Thus,
therefore, the commencement of the war on their part was beyond all
justification, and China, having done her utmost hitherto to preserve
the good fellowship of nations, can carry forbearance no further, but
feels constrained to adopt different counsels and to take effectual
measures for the management of affairs.
“We anticipate,” says the message in conclusion, “that the various
governments of the world will hear of these extraordinary proceedings
with wonder and surprise, but they will know where to lay the entire
blame attaching to them. This full statement of the circumstances under
which Japan has iniquitously and unlawfully commenced war, is presented
to your excellency for communication to your respected government for
its inspection.”
The two great nations of the orient were now at war, one with forty
millions of inhabitants, the other with four hundred millions, fighting
on the soil of their helpless neighbor, a nation which was to act as
little more than a buffer for the shock of war from either side to
strike.
FROM ASAN TO PING-YANG.
--------------
Preparations for War in the Two Nations—Activity to Provide Defense for
Southern China—Chinese Arsenals—War Spirit Among the Japanese—Armies of
China, Their Organization and Administration—Burdens Upon Li Hung
Chang—Manner of Campaign Followed by Chinese Armies—Seeking a Commander
for the Chinese Troops in Corea—Complications with European and American
Interests—Trade Relations—The Chung king Affair—Arrest of Japanese
Students in Shanghai—Efforts of American Representatives to Save Their
Lives—Delivered to the Chinese by Order from Washington—Tortured to
Death—Operations in Corea—The Masterly Retreat from Asan—Engagements in
the North—The Lines of the Japanese Drawing Around Ping-Yang.
As soon as the formal declaration of war was made public in the rival
nations, the preparations for aggression and defense which had been in
progress in China for a few weeks, and in Japan for several months,
began to be multiplied with unceasing activity. The conditions which
existed in the two nations were very different, and required different
treatment.
Immediately following the outbreak of hostilities, the viceroy at
Canton, Li Han Chang, brother of Li Hung Chang, began to make great
efforts to put the southern part of the empire in something like an
efficient state of defense. The first definite word of warning that
reached him, through an official channel, was a cipher telegram from
Peking informing him of the sinking of the Kowshing and the other
engagements on sea and land, immediately prior to July 30. Li Han Chang
was mainly responsible for the series of indignities which led to the
resignation of the last British officers remaining in the Chinese naval
service in 1891, so that China’s defeat at sea was to a certain extent
his fault. For this reason he was placed in a position to be peculiarly
anxious to make a good showing now. It was incumbent upon him to send
forces to Formosa, the favorite point of attack in every important war
that has been waged against China, and also to guard practically the
whole southern coast, of which Canton with the naval station and arsenal
at Whampoa, forms the principal point.
In times of peace the defenses of Canton consist of the southern
squadron, the river forts, and the Manchoo or Tartar garrison, supposed
to number four thousand, but really of very indefinite strength. The
squadron at this time, however, was in the north, except about a dozen
river gunboats, belonging to the navy and various revenue offices. The
forts were in fairly satisfactory state, although insufficiently
supplied for war, and the army sought recruits to increase its numbers
as rapidly as possible. The investigation of the Whampoa arsenal,
however, was highly unsatisfactory as to its results. When orders were
given to the various arsenals to get to work building ships and making
guns, the Shanghai and Nanking stations were found in readiness, and the
Foochow arsenal, the largest and only one that had ever done any
shipbuilding on a serious scale, was also in reasonably good condition.
But Whampoa arsenal was in a lamentable state of unfitness, and all that
remained of it was its naval training college, torpedo depot, and
warehouse for guns and ammunition. The responsible officials whose
negligence and dishonesty had resulted in this unfortunate condition,
had good cause to anticipate severe punishment.
In the north of China, where the administration had been more closely
under the eye of Li Hung Chang, things were in somewhat better
condition, although still not what they ought to be to meet a great war.
The Japanese nation at the same moment presented a rare spectacle. To a
man, ay, to a woman, the whole people were for war to the knife. They
scarcely knew, nor did they greatly care, for what, but having been
without the luxury of a serious foreign war for two hundred or three
hundred years, their military and patriotic spirits were raised over the
invasion of Corea and the prospective conflict with China. Never was a
stronger antithesis than that between Japanese and Chinese at the
beginning of this conflict. It was the perfection of order and of
precision against slovenliness and carelessness; the pitting of a
trained athlete against a corpulent brewer who hated fighting. China has
in her history had good soldiers, but her system does not produce nor
encourage them. Despised by the literary class, which has been in
absolute control of everything, the soldier, having little chance of
fame, and feeling himself as belonging to a degraded class, has taken
naturally to pillage. If he has hoped to succeed to honors, it has been
as likely to be by corrupt interest as by meritorious service, for the
Chinese have had no appreciation of military excellence. Of course an
army, however numerous, composed of such unkindly material, is but a
mob, and if the Chinese had the spirit of soldiers they lacked the arms,
for in a service built up on corruption it was natural to expect that
the funds allotted for equipment would find other destinations.
After the war broke out, immense efforts were made by Japan in
mobilizing troops and transporting them across the straits to Corea. The
reserve was called out, and from every house and every shop some one was
drafted to serve with the colors. So perfect, however, was the machine,
that all this was accomplished without the least visible disturbance to
the internal business of the country, and with such secrecy that it was
only through reports of trains full of troops passing at night, and
occasional train loads of war material, that any inkling was obtained of
what was going on. The embarkation was kept equally secret, even when
whole fleets of transports were engaged.
One was constrained more and more to admire the organization of the
Japanese, and the perfect order which everywhere prevailed. In a country
so strictly policed, the police need never be called on to quell a
disturbance, and the force itself constituted another military reserve,
drilled and disciplined for any service. So complete was their network
of armed watchmen, that a sparrow could hardly cross the road without
its name and destination being recorded in the archives of the
prefecture. Everything about every individual, whether foreign or
native, was known to this intelligent government. Every foreigner’s
house was frequented by spies, in the guise of peddlers or servants, who
reported minutely to their official employers. It was the same abroad.
Japanese spies had examined every Chinese ship and fort, had measured
the fighting power of every Chinese regiment. Japan knew the rottenness
of Chinese naval and military administration better perhaps than the
Chinese themselves. Japan was, in short, one great intelligence
department, and it began to prove in a most unexpected way that
“knowledge is power.”
Coming fresh from Japan to Tien-tsin, the port of Peking, whence the
direction of the war was to be carried on, one would be astounded at the
aspect of China. The Celestial Empire in war times contrasted so
completely with its hostile neighbor that one might imagine oneself in
another planet. The silent, stolid action of the one country and the
confused bustle of the other were the strongly evident contrasts. Coming
from war ministries, marine ministries, finance ministries, an executive
as elaborate and perfect as the machinery of a gun factory, every
individual knowing and doing his duty without hurry and without
friction, into China where there were none of these things at all, one
would be puzzled to conceive how any war could be carried on between
these countries except one of ultimate subjugation. China was in a sense
full of troops, mostly disbanded without pay, but in such loose fashion
as to enable them even to carry off the honors of war, in the shape of
their rifles and accoutrements. Some of these had sought and found an
honest living, but many had gone to swell the ranks of brigandage. The
troops in active service belonged to the great system of sham in which
China revelled. The levies on paper and on pay rolls bore no direct
correspondence with either the men or the arms. Neither the army nor the
navy was a fighting service, but a means of living; and while generals,
colonels and captains practically absorbed the naval and military
expenditure, the custom of the country permitted the ranks to be robbed
and starved, while those officials grew rich.
Vast as were the numbers of the fighting men of China on paper, they
were but a very small proportion to the huge population of that empire.
The old Chinese army in its three divisions of Manchoo, Mongol, and
native Chinese did not exceed the nominal strength of one million, and
all the efforts of military reformers have been devoted to increasing
the efficiency and not the size of that force. The Green Flag, or
Luh-ying corps, still represented the bulk of the army, furnishing on
paper a total of six hundred and fifty thousand men scattered through
the nineteen provinces, excluding the new province of Manchooria. It has
been controlled by the local viceroys and governors who may in some
instances have attempted to improve its efficiency, but as a general
rule the force has had little or no military value.
When the Tai-Ping rebellion was finally crushed, the Ever Victorious
army was disbanded, and the Viceroy Li Hung Chang, took into his pay a
considerable number of these disciplined and experienced soldiers who
had taken their part in a succession of remarkable achievements. When he
was transferred to Pechili he took with him these men as a sort of
personal bodyguard, and with the avowed intention of organizing an army
that would bear comparison with European troops. He was engaged on this
task for nearly twenty-five years. At the commencement this force
numbered about eighteen thousand men. In 1872 the viceroy took into his
service several German officers, who devoted themselves with untiring
energy to the conversion of what was not unpromising material into a
regular army of the highest standard. The training of this force was
carried on with the greatest possible secrecy, and no European officers
except those serving with it had any opportunity of forming an opinion.
But it was known at the beginning of the war that the Black Flag army,
as it was called, numbered about fifty thousand men.
After Li Hung Chang’s army, and scarcely inferior to it in strength and
importance, came the two branches of the old Tartar army, both of which
were recently subjected to some military training, and more or less
equipped with modern weapons. These were the old Banner army, and the
army of Manchooria, the total strength of the former being some three
hundred thousand. Up to a comparatively recent time nothing had been
done to make this force efficient. Many of the troops were armed with
nothing but bows and arrows, and a kind of iron flail. In the last
fifteen years, however, part of the Banner army, called the Peking Field
force, was organized by the late Prince Chun, father of the reigning
emperor and raised to a fair degree of efficiency. The second Tartar
force, the army of Manchooria, contained some eighty thousand men who
had received training and approximately modern weapons. Out of these,
thirty thousand men, all armed with rifles, have made their headquarters
at Mukden, the old capital of the Manchoos.
The Japanese reproached the Chinese with having no commissariat. Neither
had they telegraphs, ambulance, or hospital services. Their habit was to
live on the country in which they happened to be, and make it a desert.
The Corean campaign was expected to form no exception to this rule, and
the plains in the northwest, in the region first occupied by the Chinese
after the abandonment of Asan, were early deserted by their inhabitants.
Yet there were exceptions to this method of procedure. The force that
was sent under General Yeh to Asan to quell the insurrection there,
treated the natives with kindness and were consequently much liked. The
general had funds entrusted to him, to distribute among the poor people
who were suffering from want, and miraculous to say he did not steal the
money, but spent all, and even, it is said, some of his own, in
benevolence to the Coreans.
At the opening of the war the functions of a war ministry, marine
ministry, finance ministry, with their staff of experts, were in China
discharged by one old man, without any staff, who had stood for thirty
years between the living and the dead. The emperor issued edicts without
providing the means of carrying them out; all the rest, whether in gross
or in detail, devolved on Li Hung Chang, who like another Atlas was
bearing the whole rotten fabric of Chinese administration on his
shoulders.
The supreme command of the Corean expeditions was first offered to Liu
Ming-Chuan, who defended Formosa in 1884, but that astute old soldier
declined on the ostensible ground of age and defective sight, but really
because, as he said, peace would be made before he could reach
Tien-tsin. The command was next offered to Liu Kin-tang, the real
conqueror of Kashgar, for which the Governor-General Tso obtained the
credit. He also declined, but was overruled by the emperor, and started
from his home in the interior. His journey in the height of the summer
heat was too much to endure, and he died in his boat before reaching the
coast. The command was then entrusted to a civilian, Wu Ta-cheng, who
distinguished himself in closing a great breach on the Yellow River some
years ago, and who has lately been governor of Hu-nan. This promising
official was therefore chosen to go to Corea as imperial commissioner to
command the generals, no one of whom had been in authority over another.
[Illustration:
FIGHTING AT FOO-CHOW.
Japanese Drawing.
]
It was natural to expect that complications would arise between the
belligerent nations and the European and American nations having
commercial interests in the orient. Japan and China had not been long
enough acquainted with the rules of international comity and
international war to be familiar with the exactions that would be made
by the other nations which might be affected. The diplomatic
representatives from the west lost no time in stipulating the neutrality
of the more important treaty ports where foreigners were settled, and in
arranging that certain branches of commerce should not be interfered
with. Trade, however, was seriously affected and the price of coal
doubled at one leap. China prohibited the export of rice from its own
ports whence large quantities are usually shipped to Japan. Chinese
lighthouses were darkened, and pilots were specifically warned not to
assist Japanese vessels.
The term contraband was found to apply to many articles the transport of
which in time of peace gave employment to many steamers, mainly coal,
rice, and materials for building and repairing ships. The British
government published a declaration that rice would not be recognized as
contraband, and the prices of grain and rates for freight and insurance
ruled high. The whole trade was, therefore, dislocated, for the
Yang-tsze is the chief granary for the far east.
The British steamer Chungking suffered an aggression from the Chinese
that drew upon them a severe rebuke and punishment. The vessel was at
anchor in the harbor of Tongku, and among its passengers were sixty
Japanese, many of them women and children, who were leaving China to
return to Japan for safety during the impending troubles. While the
vessel lay in the harbor a large number of Chinese soldiers forced their
way on board with hostile intent. They began chasing the Japanese with
threats of punishment, and the women and children fled to hide
themselves. Many were found and were dragged from their places of
concealment with violence. When they were found, their feet were tightly
fastened together and their hands were tied behind their backs. They
were then thrown upon the wharf, where they lay helpless, and several of
them fainted under the severe treatment. As soon as the report of the
outrage reached the superior officer commanding the district, he
commanded the release of the victims, and the ship moved on to Shanghai
where it arrived August 7. Viceroy Li Hung Chang tendered a most humble
apology to the British consul for the aggression, the soldiers who
committed the outrage were severely punished, and the officers who were
responsible for it were degraded and sent into the interior.
The Japanese who were living in various Chinese treaty ports, engaged in
business or connected with the various foreign concessions, took pains
during the early period of the war to keep themselves as much as
possible sequestered from Chinese view, to avoid giving offense to the
people. Many of them had for years worn Chinese dress, and others now
adopted the same costume, thinking thus to lessen the danger to which
they were undoubtedly exposed. The Chinese authorities of Shanghai
became convinced that the Japanese remaining there, under the protection
of various foreign flags, constituted so many menaces to the national
security. The precaution which the Japanese took in adopting Chinese
costume, was made the pretext for a demand upon the consuls for the
arrest of all who had resorted to it, but in each instance the demand
was refused.
The first complication of American diplomatic interests with those of
China came in this connection. On the morning of August 18, two Japanese
who were walking within the limits of the French concession were pounced
upon by Chinese guards and carried off to prison, charged with being
spies in the service of the Japanese government. The accused were young
men of good position and repute, and it seemed without the opportunity
of spying, even if they were prepared to take the risk. They were placed
in prison, however, pending, it was explained, the appointment of a
proper tribunal to try them, and it was alleged by the Chinese
authorities that there were found concealed about their clothes, plans
of Chinese fortifications and cipher notes on Chinese movements. The
following day the Japanese residing in Shanghai moved from the Chinese
quarters into the American concession, where they placed themselves
formally under the protection of the United States. The two who were
arrested were immediately handed over to the American consul-general at
his demand, he agreeing to keep them until charges should be formulated
and presented. After a careful examination of the merits of the case,
the consul, Mr. Jernigan, and the United States minister to China, Mr.
Denby, became convinced that the charges were groundless, and that the
young men were innocent of any guilt or evil intent. They were mere
boys, students at the schools maintained in the American and French
concessions, where they had resided for many years. The fact that they
were dressed in Chinese costume proved nothing, inasmuch as they had
worn that costume for many years. The charges that plans and notes had
been found upon them, were also discredited by the American
representatives. Americans in private life in Shanghai, as well as
Europeans, both in official and private position, united to sustain the
position taken by the American representatives. These representations
were submitted to the state department at Washington, where Secretary
Gresham gave them careful and painstaking review. He lost no time in
deciding that the opinions of the diplomatic representatives of the
United States, who were on the ground and able to make a personal
investigation of the merits of the case, were worthless, and that the
allegations of the Chinese officials were those which were to be
accepted in their entirety. The result was that the United States
consul-general at Shanghai was commanded by the state department at
Washington to surrender to the Chinese officials these students, without
delay. He did, however, delay sufficiently to make a strenuous protest
against this action, offering further explanations why it should not be
done, and in all he was sustained by the other diplomats in Shanghai. He
declared that the surrender of these young men to China would be the
signal for the torture, and that the only true wisdom and kindness would
be to send them back to Japan. His protests were unavailing, and he was
again instructed to deliver them at once, only exacted from the Chinese
a promise that they should have fair trial and kind treatment.
To the distress of every friend of civilization in China, these two
students were therefore surrendered to the Chinese, and two days later,
after a trial which would be considered a mockery among ourselves,
without the semblance of judicial fairness, they were condemned to
death. The sentence was executed by means of the most shocking tortures
which Chinese fiendish barbarity has been able to devise, to the horror
of all foreigners living in that dark empire. The blot thus placed on
American state-craft as exemplified in its first test during this war,
can never be eradicated from the minds of those familiar with the
circumstances of the sad case.
The surrender of the two Japanese to the Chinese officials, by the
United States consul-general, threw the Japanese of Shanghai into a
state of the greatest consternation, as they had hitherto believed
themselves to be perfectly secure under the protection of the American
government. Their dismay was doubled a month later, when on October 8,
the two students were tortured to death, in spite of the promise which
had been made to Secretary Gresham by the Chinese minister at
Washington, that they should be properly treated. The pledge given by
the Chinese government was that these students should be treated as
prisoners of war, and tried by a competent court, after the manner of
civilized countries; and that their trial would be postponed until
Colonel Denby, the United States minister, could be present. Information
furnished to the American state department at Washington, its
representative in China, the American minister and the American
consul-general at Shanghai, was to the effect that the young men were
not spies, but were students in a commercial school established in Tokio
with a branch at Shanghai, the chief object of which was to impart a
knowledge of the commerce of China and Japan, and promote the trade
relations between the two countries. Under date of September 1, Colonel
Denby wrote to the secretary of state as follows:
“To give up these boys unconditionally is generally believed to be to
give them up to death. The viceroy of Nanking has, I am informed,
already demanded of the taotai of Shanghai why the heads of the two
spies have not been sent to him. They are judged and condemned in
advance. The governor of Formosa has posted a proclamation offering
prizes for Japanese heads. In a country where such a thing is possible,
it is needless to inquire what chance a Japanese accused as a spy would
have for his life. This case has attracted much attention in Japan. The
American minister at Tokio telegraphed this legation that these men were
innocent. Should any harm befall them, retaliation is inevitable. These
young men have the fullest sympathy of all foreigners in China, and the
advice of the high officials of all nationalities has been not to give
them up without conditions.”
[Illustration: CAPTURE OF PING-YANG, SEPTEMBER 16TH.]
Mr. Jernigan, the United States consul-general at Shanghai, wrote as
follows:
“Had it been known to the Chinese authorities that the limits of my
power as a protector of Japanese interests extended only to an inquiry
after arrest, all the students, fifty, would have been summarily
arrested, and it is believed here, as summarily dealt with as were their
two fellow students. I do not hesitate to conclude that the delay caused
by the course of this consulate general in the case of the two Japanese
students, prevented the arrest of as many as two hundred Japanese upon
mere suspicion, and has probably saved many from being executed and
others from being held for ransom.”
With this sort of a warning before them, the remaining Japanese
residents in Shanghai, who numbered about seven hundred persons,
consequently determined to quit the place at the earliest possible
moment. The Yokohama Specie bank transferred its business for the time
to a French bank and closed its doors. The Japanese storekeepers sold
off their stocks with all speed, and prepared to leave in the first
steamer for their native country.
Let us turn now to the hostile operations in Corea involving the rival
forces. In the last chapter the operations were related up to July 30,
on which date the Japanese drove the Chinese troops out of their
intrenched position at Asan. Five days later, on the 4th of August, the
conquerors re-entered Seoul in triumph, leaving the retreating Chinese
to make their way to their friends far to the northward. Barbarous as it
might have been in the Chinese to have no commissariat, they had in such
an encounter the advantage in marching, and were able to make a retreat
so successfully as to win the admiration of those who can recognize even
that sort of merit.
To understand the movements of forces from this period of the war, it
must be remembered that we have to do with a single Japanese force,
landing at Chemulpo and commanding and occupying Seoul, from which
center the movements were carried on. There were, however, two Chinese
forces, the original garrison of Asan, a port forty miles south of
Seoul, and a large force advancing by the road which enters Corea at its
northwest corner at Wi-ju. China anxious to meet and annihilate at one
blow if possible her despised foe, threw the latter body of troops,
drawn largely from the Manchoo garrisons, into the Corean peninsula,
where they advanced about one hundred and seventy miles inside the
border to the banks of the Tatong River at Ping-Yang. The Japanese were
awaiting the shock a little to the north of Seoul, and such was the
strength of their position that the Chinese, instead of advancing upon
them, halted at the capital city of the province, Ping-Yang, assuming
the defensive there and strongly fortifying it. One week after the
capture of Asan and the beginning of the retreat of the Chinese, the van
of the victorious army started from Seoul, marching towards Ping-Yang,
one hundred and forty miles distant, whence they were destined five
weeks later to be once more victorious in expelling the Chinese.
General Yeh, with his four thousand Chinese, made, as has been said, a
masterly retreat. Accompanied by many Coreans who joined his standard
when he was compelled to abandon his untenable position, he struck
northeastward and after twenty-five days effected a junction with the
Chinese main body at Ping-Yang, August 23. His column kept to the
mountains, where travel was difficult, and it was harassed by the enemy
all along the route. Nevertheless, the troops marched three hundred and
fifty miles through this almost impassable country, breaking through the
Japanese lines at Chong-ju, and reaching their friends at last.
The Japanese army, advancing on Ping-Yang at the same time, was
approaching that position by a course parallel with that of the Chinese,
but to the westward of it. The opposing forces were near enough to one
another that detached bodies frequently met in conflict, and the
skirmishes resulting were reported by whichever band happened to be
victorious, as a brilliant victory for the army. Because of this
condition of affairs, many battles were reported from one side or the
other that were scarcely mentioned by the opponents, whichever force it
might be, and the war spirit was thus constantly fed in China and Japan
without anything of considerable importance really happening.
About the middle of August the Japanese scouts pressing forward from
Pongsan came across an advance guard of the Chinese, who had seized the
telegraph line. A brisk skirmish ensued and the scouts fell back. A few
days later the Chinese advance guard, numbering five thousand men,
encountered the Japanese troops guarding the Ping-Yang passes, and drove
them out. Two days later an advance was made on the Japanese skirmish
lines, and the Japanese were again defeated, this time being turned back
as far as Chung-hwa, some twenty miles south of Ping-Yang.
[Illustration: FIRST SIGHT OF PING-YANG.]
When the Japanese troops started from Chemulpo and Seoul to advance on
Ping-Yang, a force of thirteen transports, protected by a strong convoy
of war vessels, also started for Ping-Yang, carrying some six thousand
troops who were intended to co-operate with the forces advancing by
land. On the 18th of August these troops were landed in Ping-Yang inlet,
and they immediately began their march up the cultivated valley of the
Tatong River in the direction of the city. When the force had proceeded
some distance, it was suddenly attacked by one thousand Chinese cavalry,
who succeeded in dividing the column into two parts. The Chinese
artillery at the same time caused great havoc among the Japanese. The
latter were thrown into complete disorder, and considerably reduced in
numbers they fled to the seashore, pursued by the cavalry who cut down
many of the fugitives. As they reached the coast the Japanese came
within the shelter of the guns of their war vessels, and the Chinese
were consequently compelled to desist from further pursuit.
The land skirmishes of which mention has been made, involved none except
the extreme van of the Japanese forces and the outposts of the Chinese.
The main body of the Japanese troops, some fifteen thousand strong,
found that the daily rate of progress northward did not exceed six
miles, so broken was the road by mountains and streams, the passage of
which presented great obstacles. This being the rate of advance, the
army had pushed some ninety miles from Seoul, when it was decided that a
change of military plan must be made. The Chinese assembling in such
great force at Ping-Yang, by the union of the two armies, threatened
Gensan, on the east coast of Corea. At Gensan there was an important
Japanese colony, and from there a trunk road led southward to Seoul. The
destruction of the colony, a flanking movement against the Japanese
army, and an irruption of Chinese troops into the Corean capital, might
have been the result of not including Gensan in the Japanese program of
operations. A force of ten thousand men was accordingly transported to
Gensan by sea, with instructions to move westward against Ping-Yang,
timing its advance and attack with those of the army from Seoul, whose
progress northward was suspended to allow time for the passage and
disembarkation of this column, and of the column which had been sent
from Chemulpo into the Ping-Yang inlet.
[Illustration: BATTLE OF THE YALU—SINKING OF THE CHIH-YUEN.]
While these land operations were going on, there were also some naval
movements under way, but the latter brought no very definite results. A
fleet of Japanese vessels, including a few iron clads and some merchant
steamships transformed into cruisers, made a reconnoissance of
Wei-hai-wei and Port Arthur about the 10th of August. A few shots were
exchanged at long range between the vessels and the forts at each of
these places, and the fleet then withdrew. The operations were of little
more importance than a mere ruse to draw fire and ascertain the position
and strength of the enemy’s guns. No submarine mines were exploded, or
torpedoes launched. At the request of the British admiral, Sir Edmund
Fremantle, the Japanese promised not to renew the attack upon
Wei-hai-wei or to bombard Chefoo without giving forty-eight hours’
notice to him, so that measures might be taken to protect the lives of
foreign residents.
The emperor of China, taking personal interest in affairs to greater
extent than had been his custom, insisted on a full daily report of the
warlike operations and plans. He studied special official reports of the
naval attack, and then wanted to know why his commanders allowed the
enemy’s vessels to escape. All this time the Japanese fleet was
patrolling the China sea, the Gulf of Pechili and the Corean Bay, trying
to reach a conflict with the enemy, and to prevent the tribute of rice
from going north. Torpedoes were placed in the entrance to Tokio Bay and
Nagasaki harbor, to guard against an attack by Chinese war vessels. The
war spirit in Japan lost none of its warmth. The detachments sent across
the straits into Corea in August numbered nearly fifty thousand men, and
early in September the total number of Japanese troops available for
activity in the peninsula was nearly one hundred thousand. A war loan of
$50,000,000 was desired by the government, and so anxious were Japanese
capitalists to subscribe for it that foreign subscriptions were refused
and more than $80,000,000 were offered.
Chinese efforts continued also in great degree, but the results were
scarcely as happy. Troops to the same number could not be sent into
Corea. A very long land march was required before the forces could reach
the seat of war by way of Manchooria and it was useless to attempt
transporting them by water, so carefully did the Japanese cruisers
patrol the sea routes.
[Illustration: BRINGING IN THE WOUNDED.]
Just at this time, when the lines were drawing closer and closer for a
decisive battle, the relations between Japan and Corea were more closely
defined by a formal treaty of alliance signed at Seoul on August 26. The
preamble of the treaty declared it to be the desire of the emperor of
Japan and the king of Corea to determine definitely the mutual relations
of Japan and Corea, and to elucidate the relations between Japan and
China with respect to the peninsula. The body of the treaty consisted of
three articles:
“The object of the alliance is the strengthening and perpetuation of the
independence of Corea as an autonomous state, and the promotion of the
mutual interests of Corea and Japan, by compelling the Chinese forces to
withdraw from Corea, and by obliging China to abandon her claims to the
right to dominate the affairs of Corea.
“Japan is to carry on warlike operations against China both offensive
and defensive; and the Corean government is bound to afford every
possible facility to the Japanese forces in their movements, and to
furnish supplies of provisions to them at a fair remuneration, so far as
such supplies may be needed.
“The treaty shall terminate when a treaty of peace is concluded by Japan
with China.”
At this very time, however, the feeling of the Corean people against the
Japanese was very intense and they were everywhere welcoming the Chinese
as their friends. Except the strongly guarded positions in the provinces
of Seoul and Hwanghai and the country around the treaty ports which were
under Japanese influence, the peninsula was in the possession of armed
Coreans and Chinese. The Japanese Marquis Saionji landed at Chemulpo,
August 28, to congratulate the Corean monarch on his declaration of
independence, and the king showed every disposition to co-operate with
the Japanese in their efforts to introduce reforms into his country. His
Majesty appointed a commissioner to visit Japan and thank the mikado for
his promises to restore peace, and to establish a stable government in
Corea. He further issued a decree introducing several reforms, including
religious freedom, the establishment of a diplomatic service, the
abolition of slavery, economies in the public service, the abrogation of
the law whereby the whole family of a criminal is punished, and the
granting of permission to widows to marry again.
Early in September the mikado established headquarters in Hiroshima with
the ministers of war and marines and the general staff, deciding to
direct the war operations from that city in the future. This had already
been the place of assembly and embarkation for the troops ordered to the
seat of war. At the same time Field Marshal Count Yamagata left for
Corea to assume sole command of the Japanese army, which had now been
augmented till its numbers were approximately one hundred thousand.
Lines were drawing about the Chinese forces nearer and nearer. The
indecisive battle which they had fought with the Japanese on August 16
had availed them nothing, and all their available troops were now massed
together in Hwang-ju and Sing-chuen.
As the three advancing columns of Japanese drew nearer to the lines of
the enemy, engagements multiplied and scarcely a day passed without some
sort of a skirmish. The three divisions struck the Chinese
simultaneously on September 5 and 6. The troops from Chemulpo struck the
Chinese center at Chung-Hwa; those from Gensan came up with their
enemies at Sing-chuen, where the left flank of the Chinese was strongly
intrenched; and the detachment from the mouth of the Tatong struck the
right flank of the Chinese at Hwang-ju. The results from all of these
engagements were favorable to the Japanese, and the Chinese were forced
back in confusion upon Ping-Yang where they united to give final battle.
In the retreat, the column advancing from the Tatong again caught up
with the Chinese on the 7th and another stubborn engagement was fought.
The Chinese did not give way until they were in danger of being
surrounded, when they fled in redoubled haste towards Ping-Yang.
[Illustration: THE MIKADO REVIEWING THE ARMY.]
With the Chinese forces in Corea thus surrounded by the Japanese, after
the sharp campaign; and the Chinese fleet of warships in perfect
fighting trim collected at Wei-hai-wei, the time was now at hand for the
two important conflicts, one on land and one at sea, which resulted in
mid-September in the entire victory of the Japanese.
THE FIRST GREAT BATTLES OF THE WAR.
--------------
Concentration of Japanese Troops to Threaten Ping-Yang—Plan of
Attack—Poor Defenses in the Rear of the Chinese Position—Night advance
on the Enemy—Swift and Effective Victory—Chinese Commander
Killed—Thousands of Prisoners Taken—Rejoicings in Japan—Honors for the
Dead Chinese Commander—Second Great Conflict in a Week—The Naval Battle
of the Yalu River—Another Victory for the Japanese Fleet—Many War Ships
Destroyed—Hundreds of Sailors Drowned in Sinking Vessels—Carnage and
Destruction—Elation of the Japanese over two Successive
Victories—Depression in the Chinese Capital and Criticism of the Chinese
Viceroy, Li Hung Chang.
[Illustration: COREAN POLICE AGENT.]
The first serious engagement between the Chinese and the Japanese forces
in Corea resulted, as competent judges foresaw all along, in the
complete victory of the latter. The great battle was fought and won. The
Chinese were utterly routed. The strong position of Ping-Yang lying just
north of the Tatong river, on the road from Seoul to the frontier at the
mouth of the Yalu river, was carried by assault in the small hours of
Sunday morning, September 16. The Chinese troops who held it were
utterly defeated, with a loss in killed, wounded, and prisoners,
estimated at nearly four-fifths of their entire force.
On Thursday morning, September 13, began the attacks which resulted two
days later in the brilliant victory. Three columns of Japanese troops
had been centering for this attack for some weeks. The first of these
came from Gensan, threatening a flank attack. The column marched from
this port on the Sea of Japan almost directly west, approaching
Ping-Yang by way of the mountain passes. The center column came from
Pongsan almost directly south of Ping-Yang. The third column landed at
Hwang-ju near the mouth of the Tatong river, and occupied a position to
the westward of Ping-Yang on the right flank of the Chinese troops.
[Illustration: JAPANESE KITCHEN IN CAMP.]
The infantry and artillery of the Japanese were in a high state of
efficiency. The men themselves were hardy, active, brave and
intelligent. Their drill and discipline had been carefully adapted from
the best European models. Their arms were of the latest and most
destructive patterns that science has been able to devise, and every
detail in their equipment and accoutrements had been thoroughly thought
out and carefully provided. The officers who had the skill and the
energy to create such a force were of course worthy to lead it. All of
them had made scientific study of their profession, and some of them had
spent years in close investigation of the more famous European military
systems, under the guidance of distinguished strategists. But while it
was generally anticipated that such an army, so led, would have an easy
task in defeating and dispersing any force which the Chinese were likely
to assemble against it at short notice in Corea, it was by no means
certain that the Japanese could force an engagement before the Corean
winter made serious operations impracticable. The Japanese commander
showed that he had mastered the great secret of modern warfare. He knew
how to move his troops with rapidity and with decision, and doing so he
succeeded in dealing a heavy blow to China with trifling loss to
himself.
The position held by the Chinese was one of great natural strength.
Doubtless on this account it was protected by old works, which the
Chinese had supplemented by new defenses. True, however, to the
extraordinary practice so often adopted by the Chinese armies, they
neglected to secure their rear to any adequate degree. The Japanese, who
had fought the Chinese before, foresaw that this would be the case, and
planned their measures accordingly.
Thursday the Japanese column from Pongsan, the centre, made a
reconnoissance in force, drawing the fire from the Chinese fort, and
ascertaining accurately the location of the defenses and the disposition
of the troops. This having been accomplished, the Japanese forces fell
back in good order and with very little loss, none of the other troops
having entered the engagement.
Friday was spent by the Japanese in taking up their final position, and
by that evening all the Japanese forces were in position for the
combined attack, the Pongsan column facing the Chinese centre to bear
the brunt, as in the preliminary fighting, and the others arranged as
heretofore described. The Hwang-ju column had been re-enforced the day
before by marines and blue jackets from the fleet at the mouth of the
Tatong river.
The battle opened Saturday morning at daybreak by a direct cannonade
upon the Chinese works. This continued without cessation until the
afternoon, the Chinese fighting their guns well and making good
execution. At two o’clock in the afternoon a body of infantry was thrown
forward, and these troops kept up a rifle fire upon the Chinese until
dusk. The Japanese gained some advanced positions, but they mainly
occupied the same ground as when the attack opened. Firing continued at
intervals throughout the night.
[Illustration: JAPANESE SOLDIER SALUTING A FIELD CEMETERY.]
Neither of the flanking columns took any part in the heavy fighting
during Saturday, and thus no opportunity was given to the Chinese of
measuring the real number of the forces opposed to them or of
ascertaining the real plans of the enemy. Throughout the day the Chinese
held their own without much loss except to their defenses, and they
retired to rest with the satisfied feeling of men who have not
unsuccessfully opposed a formidable adversary.
They had a rude awakening. During the night the two flanking columns
drew a cordon around the Chinese forces, and at three o’clock on Sunday
morning the attack was delivered simultaneously and with admirable
precision. The Gensan and Hwang-ju columns were the ones who devoted
themselves to the rear of the Chinese position, and the entrenched
troops suddenly found themselves exposed to attacks from the force they
had fought during the day and from new forces of fresh troops of unknown
numbers.
The Chinese lines which were so strong in front, were found
comparatively weak in the rear. The unsuspicious soldiers, taken
completely by surprise, fell into panic and were cut down by hundreds.
They were surrounded and at every point where they sought safety in
flight they met the foe. It was of course a disgrace to the Chinese
leaders to be completely outmanœuvred and surprised, but it was no
disgrace to the Chinese soldiers to flee with but slight resistance when
the surprise had been accomplished by an enemy outnumbering them nearly
three to one.
[Illustration: CROWD IN TOKIO LOOKING AT PICTURES OF THE WAR.]
[Illustration: JAPANESE AMBULANCE OFFICER.]
The greatest Manchoo general, and some of the troops disciplined under
Li Hung Chang’s directions on the European system, fought stoutly, stood
their ground to the last, and were cut down to a man. But their stand
was useless. The Pongsan column, swarming over the damaged defenses in
the front, completed the discomfiture of the Chinese. Half an hour after
the night attack opened, the splendid position of Ping-Yang was in the
possession of the Japanese.
The Japanese victory was brilliant and complete. They captured the whole
of the immense quantities of stores, provisions, arms and ammunition in
the camp, besides hundreds of battle flags. The Chinese loss was about
two thousand seven hundred killed and more than fourteen thousand
wounded and prisoners. Less than a fourth of the Chinese army succeeded
in escaping. The Japanese loss was thirty killed and two hundred and
sixty-nine wounded, including eleven officers.
Among the officers of the Chinese killed was General Tso-pao-kwei,
Manchoorian commander-in-chief of the army, who fought desperately to
the last and was wounded twice. In this battle also, General Wei
Jink-woi, and General Sei Kinlin were captured and these practically
comprise the effective Chinese staff.
Within ten hours of the great battles of Ping-Yang, the engineers had
completed the military field telegraph between that place and Pongsan,
and had messages on the wires to Seoul. The number of troops engaged in
the battle on the side of the Japanese was about sixty thousand, and of
the Chinese about twenty thousand, which in a measure explains and
justifies the result of the conquest.
The news of this battle was welcomed most enthusiastically in Japan, and
rejoicings were held in Tokio and the other large cities. Bells were
rung and salutes fired. Field Marshal Count Yamagata, in command of the
Japanese troops, received congratulations by telegraph from the emperor
of Japan.
[Illustration: CHINAMAN MUTILATING REMAINS OF JAPANESE SOLDIERS.]
The emperor of China had occasion to take different measures. An
imperial edict was promulgated in which he expressed his profound regret
at the death of General Tso, who was killed while gallantly leading the
Chinese troops. The emperor ordered that posthumous orders should be
paid to the deceased, befitting his rank as a provincial commander of
the Chinese Empire. The edict bestowed imperial favors upon the sons and
family of the late general. After he had been severely wounded in the
shoulder by a bullet, General Tso persisted in remaining at the head of
his troops, and it was while leading his men in an unsuccessful charge
that he was struck by another bullet and killed.
Just one day after the rout of the Chinese from their defenses at
Ping-Yang, another meeting between Japanese and Chinese took place not
may miles from the same point, but the second battle was on sea instead
of land, and its results were not as definitive as those of the battle
of Ping-Yang. There remained room for each contestant to lay claim to
certain phases of the victory. But the opinion of independent and
impartial authorities, naval and military, has been that in the indirect
results as well as the immediate lesson, Japan was well justified in
claiming the contest to be hers.
[Illustration: THE PING-YUEN.]
Admiral Ting and his fleet were at Tien-tsin awaiting the orders of the
Chinese war council which was sitting at that place. He was instructed
to convoy a fleet of six transports to the Yalu river and protect them
while landing troops, guns and stores at Wi-ju, from which base China
intended to renew operations in Corea. The transports were ready Friday,
September 14, and the following vessels escorted them to sea: Chen-Yuen
and Ting-Yuen, speed fourteen knots, tonnage seven thousand four hundred
and thirty; King-Yuen and Lai-Yuen, sixteen and one-half knots, two
thousand eight hundred and fifty tons; Ping-Yuen, ten and one-half
knots, two thousand eight hundred and fifty tons; Chih-Yuen and
Ching-Yuen, eighteen knots, two thousand three hundred tons; Tsi-Yuen,
fifteen knots, two thousand three hundred and fifty-five tons; Chao Yung
and Yang Wei, sixteen and one-half knots, one thousand three hundred and
fifty tons; Kwang Kai and Kwang Ting, sixteen and one-half knots, one
thousand and thirty tons. The first five vessels named were armored
battle ships, the first two built in 1881.2, the third and fourth in
1887, and the fifth in 1890. The seven following were cruisers with
outside armor, all of them built since 1881 and some as late as 1890.
There were also in the fleet six torpedo boats and two gun boats. It is
evident that the fleet was of modern construction, and without going
into details as to the armament it may be said that the guns were
equally modern in pattern.
This splendid fleet arrived off the eastern entrance to the Yalu river
on the afternoon of Sunday, September 16, and remained ten miles outside
while the transports were to be unloaded. There were about seven
thousand troops to be disembarked, composing the second Chinese army
corps, which consisted almost entirely of Hunanese. The war council had
realized that it was impossible to get the necessary re-enforcements to
Corea with sufficient promptitude if they were marched overland, so the
risk of sending them by transports was assumed.
The work of disembarking troops and discharging stores proceeded rapidly
until about ten o’clock Monday morning, September 17. Very soon after
that hour, the sight of a cloud of smoke upon the horizon indicated the
approach of a large fleet. The enemy was at hand, and the battle was
impending. Admiral Ting immediately weighed anchor and placed his ships
in battle array. His position was a difficult one. If he remained near
the shore, his movements were cramped. If he steamed out for sea room he
ran the risk of a Japanese cruiser or torpedo boat running in amongst
his transports. He chose the least of two evils and decided to remain
near the shore.
By noon it was possible to distinguish twelve ships in the approaching
Japanese squadron. The Chinese fleet steamed in the direction of the
enemy and at a distance of five miles was able to distinguish the ships
according to their types. Admiral Ting signalled his ships to clear for
action and then brought them into a V-shaped formation, with the
flagship at the apex of the angle. The Japanese had at first approached
in double line, but when Admiral Ito saw the formation adopted by his
opponent he changed his fleet into single line and so went into action.
The Ting-Yuen opened firing about twelve thirty P.M. at a range of five
thousand seven hundred yards. The concussion of the first discharge
threw every one off the bridge. As they came nearer, the Japanese
appeared to form in quarter lines, to which the Chinese replied by
turning two points to starboard, thus keeping their bows directed
towards the enemy. Approaching within four thousand four hundred yards,
the whole Japanese fleet seemed to turn eight points to port, thereby
forming a single line ahead, and steaming across the Chinese line they
turned its starboard wing.
The Japanese manœuvred swiftly throughout the battle, and the Chinese
scarcely had a chance for effective firing from beginning to end. When
the Japanese were firing at the starboard section of the Chinese
squadron, the ships of the port section were practically useless, and
could not fire without risk of hitting their own ships. The Japanese
cruisers attacked first one section and then the other. As soon as the
Chinese on the port side had brought their guns to bear and had attained
the range accurately, the Japanese would work around and attack the
starboard side. At times as many as five Japanese vessels would bring
the whole weight of their armament to bear upon one Chinese ship, their
consorts keeping the attention of the other vessels of that line fully
engaged, while the ships of the diverging line lay looking on almost as
useless as hulks in the water.
As compared with that of the Japanese, the fire of the Chinese was very
feeble and ineffective. The men fought bravely, however, and there
appeared to be no thought of surrendering on either side, but a constant
intention to fight to the end.
While the fleet was getting into its formation the Chao Yung and Yang
Wei, which were slow in taking up stations, were disastrously exposed to
the Japanese fire, and one of them in consequence began to burn. On the
port wing the Tsi-Yuen and Kwang Kai, occupied a similar position behind
the Chinese line. The Japanese steamed around by the stern at a distance
of five thousand yards and cut off the Tsi-Yuen. The Kwang Kai, which
was as yet keeping touch with the fleet, soon fell back. Nothing more
was seen of these two during the action, and they escaped unhurt.
The Chinese, unable to keep pace with the enemy, endeavored to follow
their movements by keeping bow on to them, as they circled around,
maintaining a heavy bombardment. The Chinese fleet that kept in the
thick of the fight consisted of six ships of the Yuen class, including
the ironclads. The Japanese, having completed one circle, hauled off to
a distance of eight thousand yards, and went through an evolution with
the object of separating in two divisions, the first consisting of the
seven best known cruisers, and the second of five inferior ships which
stood off to some distance.
The Japanese gunners were making much better practice than their enemy.
Very few of the Chinese shots reached their mark, while the Japanese
were constantly hitting the opposing vessels most effectively. After a
time the Chinese admiral apparently became desperate. His formation was
broken, and two or three of his ships advanced at full speed. The
fighting became furious, but the weight of metal told and one of his
ships, the Lai-Yuen, was crippled in this venture. Then for some unknown
reason the Japanese ceased firing and cleared off, while the Chinese
retired nearer the shore. The respite was a brief one, for the Japanese
returned in about fifteen minutes, renewing the battle with great vigor
and upon the same effective plan.
Late in the afternoon the Chinese cruiser Chih-Yuen, the captain of
which had several times shown a disposition to disregard the admiral’s
signals, deliberately steamed out of line and, although again ordered to
remain in the place assigned to her, went full speed at a Japanese
cruiser. The latter received a slanting blow which ripped her up below
the water line and it was believed she would founder. She succeeded
however, in pouring several broadsides into her enemy at close quarters,
and the Chih-Yuen was so injured by her fire and by the effects of the
collision that she herself sank.
When the Chinese resumed their line formation, the Japanese guns were
directed upon the disabled ships, particularly the Lai-Yuen. She had
been riddled by shot and shell, and it was evident that she was sinking.
The Chinese gunners worked their weapons to the last. Finally she went
down slowly, stern first. Her bows rose clear out of the water and she
remained in this position for a minute and a half before she disappeared
in one last plunge. The Japanese had used no torpedoes upon her, but
sunk her by fair shot and shell fire. It spurred all the men to
additional effort, and the officers were naturally exultant. They
regarded the sinking of a double bottomed ship like the Lai-Yuen by gun
fire alone as no mean achievement.
The battle then arranged itself into two great groups, the four Chinese
cruisers becoming engaged with the second division, while the ironclads
attacked the first division. The fighting of the second division was
irregular and difficult to follow, and ended in the Japanese
disappearing in the direction of the island of Hai-yung-tao.
The first Japanese division carried on the fighting with the Chinese
ironclads by circling round at a distance of four thousand five hundred
yards. The Ping-Yuen and Chen-Yuen keeping together, followed the
enemies’ movements in a smaller circle, the whole evolution taking a
spiral form. Occasionally the distance between the opposing ships was
reduced to two thousand yards, and once to one thousand two hundred
yards. The Japanese aimed at keeping a long distance away, so as to
avail themselves of their superior speed, and make the most of their
quick firing guns, in which armament they vastly excelled the Chinese.
The object of the Chinese was to come into close quarters, so as to use
their slow firing guns of large caliber with full effect.
Other Chinese vessels endangered were the King-Yuen, which was badly
injured by fire, the Chao Yung, which foundered in shallow water, and
the Yang Wei, which was partially burned, and afterwards destroyed by a
torpedo.
[Illustration: THE YOSHINO.]
On the Japanese side, in addition to the vessel which was rammed by the
Chih-Yuen, the Yoshino and the Matsusima were badly injured by fire. The
former of these two, after receiving a series of volleys from two
Chinese vessels, was enveloped in a cloud of white smoke which lay
heavily on the water and completely covered the ship. The Chinese
vessels waited for the cloud to clear away and got their port guns
ready, but before the Yoshino became visible their fire was diverted by
a Japanese ship of the Matsusima type which came on the port quarter.
The guns which had been laid for the Yoshino were fired at this newcomer
with the result that she too began to burn.
In the latter part of the battle the Chinese ironclads ran short of
common shell, and continued the action with steel shot, which proved
ineffective.
[Illustration: JAPANESE ADVANCE AT THE CROSSING OF THE YALU RIVER.]
An officer of the Japanese navy who was on one of the vessels in the
engagement, was sent to make a verbal report to the mikado, and related
some interesting details of the battle. He says that the fleet consisted
of eleven war ships and a steam packet, Saikio Maru, which had been
fitted up with guns as a cruiser, conveying Admiral Kabayama, the head
of the naval command bureau, on a tour of inspection. Here is what he
says about the latter boat: “It was our own turn next to suffer. The
Saikio Maru had worked her deck guns to the best of her ability, but she
was scarcely adapted for fighting in line against ironclads. Frequently
she was in imminent danger, the Chinese quickly perceiving that she was
a weak ship. A well placed shell from the Ting-Yuen pierced her side,
and exploding made a complete wreck of the steering gear as well as
doing other damage. She was put out of action, and pointed the best
course she could by means of her screws. But this was a poor makeshift,
and in trying to get away, she ran to within eighty metres distance of
the Ting-Yuen and Chen-Yuen, both these ships having starred in pursuit
of her at full speed. The two Chinese commanders evidently thought that
the Saikio Maru intended to ram them, for they sheered off and thus left
her room to escape. She went away southward at her best speed. The
Chinese discharged two fish torpedoes after her, but the projectiles
either passed underneath the ship’s keel or missed their direction. The
fire which had slackened during this incident, recommenced with
redoubled energy, but we still made better practice with our guns. The
Chao Yung was partially disabled, though she still fought on against two
of our cruisers who were closing upon her. The doomed vessel went astern
and settled down in shallow water. She was covered, but two-thirds of
her masts were visible, and the rigging was soon crowded with scores of
Chinese crying loudly to be saved. It was a pitiful sight, but the
fighting was too hot to allow us to help them. At the same moment the
Yang Wei was reported disabled. She retired slowly from the fighting
line rolling heavily, masses of dense smoke emerging from her. We had
suffered on our side, but not nearly to such an extent. A shell had
burst upon the flagship Matsusima, dismounting the forward quickfiring
gun, and killing a number of men. The gun too was flung violently
against the ship, doing considerable damage. The Matsusima had received
a great part of the Chinese fire throughout and this last disaster had
rendered her useless for further fighting. Her commander and first
lieutenant had been killed. One hundred and twenty of her men had been
killed or wounded; but the ship still floated. Admiral Ito and his staff
were transferred to the Hasidate and in a few minutes they were again in
the thick of the fight.
[Illustration: THE MATSUSIMA.]
[Illustration: H. SAKOMOTO, _Commander of the Akagi_.]
“The Hiyei in the mean time had been receiving the fire of two powerful
Chinese vessels. She was manœuvered skillfully and returned their
fire, until a shell bursting within her set the woodwork in flames. A
second shell exploded in the sick-bay, killing a surgeon and his
assistant, and some of those who had been wounded earlier. The captain
was compelled to run her out of action, to extinguish the flames, and
this having been accomplished his wounded men were transferred to
another ship, and he steamed once more into line. The Yoshino had been
fought throughout in a magnificent manner. She steamed in advance of the
Hiyei when the latter was disabled and was backing out of line. She took
the enemy’s fire, and replied with the greatest spirit. She was hit
frequently, and her forward barbette was damaged, but her injuries can
soon be repaired. The Chinese used their torpedo boats at times and
incessant care was necessary to avoid their projectiles. On our war
ship, the Akagi, the captain was aloft in the tops watching especially
for torpedo movements and signalling by flags directly they were
detected. He was in this position when the mast was shot away, and the
top-hamper fell with a crash upon the deck. The captain and two lookout
men were killed. The first lieutenant took command and fought the ship
till darkness stopped the action. Towards the close of the day dense
smoke was seen issuing from the war ships Ting-Yuen, King-Yuen, and
Ping-Yuen, and it was believed by us that all were on fire. Great
confusion prevailed on board them, but they did not retire from action.
Firing was still kept up intermittently on the Chinese side, though the
guns of many of their ships were silenced. At sundown the Chinese
squadron was in full retreat. We took a parallel course intending to
renew the battle in the morning. The night was dark, the speed was only
equal to that of our slowest damaged ship, and we were compelled to keep
at some distance from their course on account of their torpedo flotilla,
which might have attempted a night attack. We lost sight of the enemy
during the night. At dawn we endeavored to discover their position, but
failed. The Chinese squadron must have reached protected shelter. Then
we returned to the scene of the action, and found that the war ship Yang
Wei, which had been disabled when the battle was half over, had been run
ashore. Her crew had abandoned her. We fired one fish torpedo and
completed her destruction. This was the only torpedo fired by the
Japanese either in the action or after it.”
From a concensus of the opinions of eye witnesses, it appears that the
Chinese were at least as anxious to continue the fight as were the
Japanese. Before five o’clock the Japanese ceased firing. It was
observed that the distance between the fleets was rapidly increasing and
the Chinese failed to diminish it. The Chinese then saw the Japanese
change course in a westerly direction towards the islands of Yang-tao
and Hai-yung-tao. The Celestials followed them for an hour, and saw the
course changed again to a southerly direction, while some of the ships
of the second Japanese division that had vanished earlier in the fight
now joined those of the first. By this time nothing but the smoke of the
withdrawing fleet was visible and the Chinese returned. They were joined
by the ships which had been partially disabled but were still in
condition to proceed, and altogether withdrew towards Port Arthur. A
message was sent to the transports from which the troops had disembarked
on the banks of the Yalu river, ordering them to weigh anchor and follow
the fleet.
It is evident that there remained room for each side to claim the
victory in this naval battle. The Chinese succeeded in disembarking the
troops, which was the avowed object of their expedition. They fought
brilliantly, inflicting considerable damage upon their opponents, and
assert that the battle was terminated against their will by the
withdrawal of the Japanese vessels.
The Mikado’s men on the other hand, destroyed several of the best battle
ships in the Chinese navy with great loss of life to the crews, and
plead that the Chinese withdrew from them. The truth probably is that
each fleet was so damaged and the men so exhausted with the long contest
that they were mutually willing to quit. Inasmuch as casual spectators
of impartial mind are not in a position to observe the details of a
battle royal of this sort, it seems that the decision must be left
unsettled except as the destruction of so many Chinese vessels may be
certainly credited as a victory for the Japanese. The withdrawal of the
Chinese fleet towards Port Arthur, and its previous inactivity seem to
be partially responsible for the handing over of Corea to the Japanese,
giving them first the advantage of possession in the invaded country.
The peculiar constitution of the Chinese navy is partially an
explanation of the discipline prevailing. The navy is not properly an
imperial or even a national force. The four fleets are provincial
squadrons raised, equipped, and maintained by the viceroys or governors
of the maritime provinces to which they are attached. No arrangement
could possibly be more unsuited for the purpose of naval war, and to it
may be partially attributed the previous inaction of the Chinese fleet
while their numerically inferior antagonists were using the sea at will.
Stirred up at length, doubtless by peremptory orders from Peking, the
Chinese admiral, in place of throwing his whole strength into a decisive
operation, seems to have committed himself to a subsidiary objective.
Naval history teems with examples of the drawbacks that inevitably
result from being thus led away. To have attacked the Japanese when
convoying troops to Chemulpo, or to have fought a naval battle at
Chemulpo or Ping-Yang inlet might have led to important results. In
place of adopting such a course, the Chinese utilized their fleet for
the first time in convoying troops to the mouth of the Yalu river in the
north-east corner of the bay of Corea. The great difficulty experienced
in advancing overland from Manchooria doubtless suggested this plan, but
the object at best was purely secondary. And with the fleet scattered
and partially destroyed it would seem that the troops, both artillery
and infantry, with their stores landed at the mouth of the Yalu river,
would be practically helpless so far from support or a base of supplies.
The Japanese fleet which met that of China in the battle of the Yalu
river was composed as follows: The Matsusima, Itsukusima and the
Hasidate, each of four thousand two hundred and seventy-seven tons
displacement and seventeen and one-half knots; the Takachiho and the
Naniwa, each of three thousand six hundred and fifty tons, and eighteen
and seven-tenths knots; the Akitsushima, of three thousand one hundred
and fifty tons, and Chiyoda, of two thousand four hundred and fifty
tons, and each nineteen knots; the Yoshino, of four thousand one hundred
and fifty tons and twenty-three knots; the Fuso, three thousand seven
hundred and eighteen tons, and the Hiyei, two thousand two hundred tons,
each thirteen knots; the Akagi six hundred and fifteen tons, and twelve
knots; beside the Saikio Maru, a steam packet fitted as a cruiser and
four torpedo boats. It will be seen that in numbers the fleets were
about equal. But in tonnage the Chinese fleet was superior, having
several vessels larger than any of the Japanese, while on the other hand
the speed of the Japanese vessels averaged very much above that of the
Chinese. The armament too of the Japanese fleet was superior to that of
the Chinese, being composed more largely of quickfiring guns. In type
the vessels of the opposing squadrons differed considerably. While six
of the Chinese ships had side armor, only one Japanese vessel was thus
protected; and while ten Chinese ships had protection of some form, only
eight Japanese carried any armor.
The Japanese had the advantage of their opponents in speed, but to a
less extent than might be expected. The number of knots shown for each
ship in the lists was of course the best possible, and is equally
delusive for both sides. Notwithstanding, the Japanese had so much the
greater speed that they were able to steam around their opponents to
some extent. There are some lessons to be drawn from this battle by
those who have wondered what the result of a contest between the modern
war ships would be. The Chinese made one attempt to ram, and discharged
one torpedo from a ship and three from a boat. The attempt to ram
resulted in desperate damage, though not in destruction to the ship
attacked. The rammer herself was afterwards sunk, it was believed by gun
fire. All the torpedoes discharged were ineffective. The Japanese tried
to use neither the ram nor the torpedo. Beside the Chih-Yuen, the
Lai-Yuen and Chao Yung were sunk by shot and the Yang Wei was run
aground to avoid foundering in deep water. The Japanese flag ship
Matsusima was so severely injured that Admiral Ito had to shift his flag
to the Hasidate. The Hiyei was forced out of action for a time, and the
armed packet steamer Saikio Maru had to go out of action altogether. The
mast of the Akagi was shot away, and by the fall killed the captain and
two men, all of whom were on the top. Such being the variety of the
ships engaged, important lessons are forthcoming from this first great
modern naval battle. Many theories fondly beloved and eagerly proclaimed
have had to be abandoned for their holders to fall back upon the old and
well tested principles of naval war. The gun has maintained its position
as a weapon to which all others are merely accessories. The best
protection, as Farragut pointed out, is a powerful and well directed
fire. Stupendous losses, unimaginable destruction, have been confidently
predicted as a necessary result of a naval battle fought with modern
weapons. This did not prove to be the case, and the damage inflicted in
the five or six hours’ fighting at the mouth of the Yalu might have
occurred in the days of the '74s. Allowance must be made for the
probable defects in the Chinese gunnery practice, but their seamen
fought like heroes, and greater endurance than was shown on either side
can never be expected. The accuracy of naval fire is always
over-estimated in time of peace. The disablement of the heavy guns of
the Chen-Yuen and her continued fighting with her light armament are a
useful object lesson. This vessel like many others was built solely with
a view to carry her four thirty-seven ton guns. The remaining armament
was doubtless distributed promiscuously as space offered. Both barbettes
were quickly disabled, and machinery gave place to man power. On board
ship, as on land, it is the man who ultimately counts, even though in
time of peace he is often forgotten.
From this survey of the characteristics of the two fleets, it may be
perceived that each fairly represented a different principle. The
principle represented by the Chinese was that advocated by the school
which puts matter above mind, for their fleet contained the biggest
ships, the less numerous but heaviest guns, and the most extensive
torpedo armament. The principle of which the Japanese may be taken as
the representative is that of a school which appeals to history and
experience, and not to theories evolved out of the inner consciousness
of people without practical knowledge of the sea, and which maintains
that the human factor is both the most important and the unchanging
factor in war, which must in its broader features remain much what it
has always been.
Whatever the claims of victory made by the opposing forces, the fact
remains that Admiral Ito stayed at sea with the Japanese fleet and that
the damages were repaired as fast as possible on board the ships; while
the Chinese went into port, where their repairs could be made in safety
and at leisure. Japan unquestionably had command of the sea. The menace
which operated successfully in the early stages of the war was changed
for the prestige of a great moral and material victory.
[Illustration: JAPANESE INFANTRY ATTACKING A CHINESE POSITION.]
JAPAN'S FORWARD MOVEMENT IN COREA.
--------------
Effects of the Battles of Ping-Yang and the Yalu River—How the Two
Nations Received the News—Withdrawal of the Chinese Fleet—Armies Moving
North to the Boundary—Li Hung Chang Losing His Rank and
Influence—Possible Destination of the New Japanese Army—Prince
Kung—Chinese Driven out of Several Positions in the North of
Corea—Abandoning the Peninsula—Danger to Foreigners in China—Captain Von
Hannecken—The Japanese Advance into Manchooria.
The effects of the battles of Ping-Yang and the Yalu River upon the
governments and peoples of the two belligerent nations were
characteristic. Japan was the scene of rejoicings most hearty in every
city and village of the empire. Congratulations were sent from the
emperor to the commanders of the military and naval forces, and
memorials complimentary to them were voted by the Japanese parliament.
Additional levies of troops were made and hurried into Corea, with the
intention that the war should be prosecuted with renewed vigor.
In China, on the other hand, the dazed government was scarcely able to
realize what had happened. Reports were made to the emperor which caused
him to declare that the defeat was merely the result of the cowardice of
his commanders, and that they must be punished for the losses. The
emperor at once began to contemplate a change of counsellors, and the
dismissal of all mandarins and others who had been concerned in the
conduct of the war. Li Hung Chang’s position in imperial favor began to
waver. The captain of the cruiser Kwang Kai was beheaded for cowardice.
At the battle of the Yalu River he saw one of the enemy’s ships
approaching to attack him, and immediately turned and fled with his
vessel as rapidly as possible. He intended to escape to Port Arthur, but
as he was endeavoring to shape a course thither which would keep him out
of range of the enemy’s guns, he ran the vessel ashore and she became a
total wreck.
The Coreans, except those under the immediate influence of the home
government, were not yet willing to accept the Japanese influence for
that of China, which had been so strong throughout their lives. A body
of two thousand Japanese left Fusan just before the battle of Ping-Yang,
to march to Seoul. Their advance was, however, opposed by the Coreans,
who harassed them continually by a guerilla warfare. The Japanese lost
heavily, and were compelled to return to Fusan, having lost nearly half
of their number. Two thousand fresh troops were immediately sent to that
port from Japan to guard the neighboring settlements, where some three
thousand Japanese permanently resided. Another uprising of the armed
Tonghaks, whose rebellion had been one of the first features of the war,
was apprehended.
The remnant of the Chinese fleet sought refuge after the battle of the
Yalu river under the protection of the Port Arthur forts, where they
were soon locked up by Japanese ships which patrolled the neighboring
waters, preventing the exit of Chinese vessels. The Chinese army
defeated at Ping-Yang fled to Wi-ju, at the apex of the most northerly
angle of the Bay of Corea, on the Corean side of the mouth of the Yalu
River. About seven thousand Chinese troops had been landed there from
the transports which were escorted by the Chinese squadron engaged in
the battle at the mouth of the river. The governor of Manchooria began
to concentrate all the troops raised in that province upon Mukden and
the route between that city and Wi-ju, and extensive earthworks were
thrown up along the road.
It was believed by the Chinese that Mukden would be the scene of the
next great battle of the war. This famous Manchoo city possessed a
political and dynastic importance, which might easily render its
downfall decisive for the war, irrespective of all strategic
considerations. It was the sacred city of the royal house, the ancestral
home of the reigning family of China. It contained the tomb of many of
the emperor’s august ancestors, and accordingly was invested in the eyes
of all good Chinamen with a halo of sanctity reflected on the Lord of
the Dragon Throne himself. The capture of the city in which so many sons
of heaven had found sepulchres would be accepted throughout the empire
as an omen that the present occupant of the royal seat was not worthy of
divine protection, and such omens, in days of disastrous wars, are often
fulfilled with remarkable celerity. As the politicians about the court
were perfectly aware of what the consequences of the fall of Mukden
would be, it was natural that they should take every precaution to
prevent such a catastrophe. Furthermore, in Mukden the Chinese emperor
was supposed to have gold and silver accumulated in the course of two
centuries, to the amount of $1,200,000,000.
Mukden is only one hundred and fifty miles from Wi-ju, with which place
the Manchoo city was connected by a road, comparatively good for China,
as it had been the main route to Peking, and even the Chinese recognized
its strategic importance by running telegraph wires along it. It is easy
to see why the Chinese began to increase the fortifications of the
sacred city, and why they made a stand at Wi-ju in the hope of
interrupting the Japanese advance.
[Illustration: PRINCIPAL STREET OF MUKDEN.]
The levies of troops concentrating upon Wi-ju, Mukden, and the
intervening territory were hardy men from the north, of excellent
material to be worked into soldiers, but they were badly armed. Only
about four thousand had good rifles, but further supplies were being
hurried up from the southern arsenals. The Chinese force intrenched upon
the Yalu River was about thirty-eight thousand, including the troops
that had escaped from the Ping-Yang defeat to fall back upon Wi-ju. Many
of the forces which they found there were also raw levies, badly armed.
The loss of field guns, rifles, and ammunition at Ping-Yang greatly
embarrassed the Chinese war department. It was recognized that a battle
must be fought at the river, and it was earnestly desired to retrieve
the disaster of Ping-Yang.
It was immediately after the series of defeats in Corea that the effort
began to be made by the enemies of Li Hung Chang to find a means for his
degradation. Even two weeks before the battle of Ping-Yang, the
government at Peking appointed two officers to act as censors of his
proceedings, and especially of his conduct of the war. One of these
officials was a notorious enemy of the viceroy. The censors at first
contented themselves with taking note of Li Hung Chang’s actions and
movements. Immediately after the news of the disaster at Ping-Yang
reached Peking, the emperor was persuaded that the defeat of his army
was due to the mismanagement of the viceroy. The intrigue was completely
successful, and on the morning of September 18, an imperial edict was
issued depriving Li Hung Chang of his three-eyed peacock feather, the
reason assigned for the disgrace being incapacity and negligence in
making preparations for the war. Much sympathy was expressed for the
viceroy, who was thus made the scapegoat for the disasters. The real
responsibility rested with the Tsung-li Yamen, which had been making war
with an inadequate force inefficiently organized and hampered by
tradition. Li was not a member of the Grand Council, but it was sought
to make him responsible for its blunders.
[Illustration: CHINESE TROOPS FLYING TO SAVE THEIR ARTILLERY.]
Within a few days after the Corean engagements, another Japanese army
was mobilized at Hiroshima for service in the field. The destination of
this fresh expeditionary force of thirty thousand men was kept a secret,
nothing being known except that another effective blow was contemplated
by General Kawakami, the Von Moltke of Japan. The sea-going fleet of
China was practically paralyzed for the time, and the Japanese were free
to transport a force in any direction. The island of Hai-yung-tao, in
Corea Bay, had been made a coaling station for the Japanese fleet, thus
enabling the Japanese torpedo boats to keep a constant watch at the
mouth of the Gulf of Pechili and secure advance warning of offensive or
defensive operations. It was believed that Count Yamagata favored an
attack upon Niuchwang from the sea. This city in the possession of the
Japanese would form a base for a movement upon Mukden or upon Peking
itself, and the forces landed there could co-operate with the army
advancing from Corea. A second possible destination for the new force
was Peking itself. It was believed that an army of that size could reach
the capital by disembarking at a point on the coast about half way
between Taku, the city at the mouth of the Peiho River, on which Peking
is situated, and Niu-chwang.
[Illustration: TRANSPORTING CHINESE TROOPS.]
The third alternative was an expedition to Formosa. The island had
hitherto remained outside the sphere of operations, and Chinese troops
from the southern provinces had been transported there in considerable
number. This movement of forces had been interrupted only by the wreck
of one steamer, and the necessary caution required to avoid a collision
with Japanese cruisers, which at times patrolled that portion of the
China sea. There were probably fifteen thousand men in the island, drawn
in part from the Black Flags, and excellent in quality, but lacking in
military training and even arms and equipment. The natural wealth of
Formosa was known to be considerable, and its geographical position from
a commercial point of view immensely important, so that there were good
reasons to believe this a possible destination for the forces.
It is interesting to note the general order issued by the Japanese
minister of war September 22, to the troops which were about to take the
field, and to the others which were already in active service. It went
far to prove to the civilized world, whose eyes were upon the operations
of the war, that it was the desire of the Japanese authorities to
conduct their hostilities with as much consideration for the humanities
as is ever possible in war. The order was as follows:
“Belligerent operations being properly confined to the military and
naval forces actually engaged, and there being no reason whatever for
enmity between individuals because their countries are at war, the
common principles of humanity dictate that succor and rescue should be
extended, even to those of the enemy’s forces who are disabled either by
wounds or disease. In obedience to these principles, civilized nations
in time of peace enter into conventions to mutually assist disabled
persons in time of war, without distinction of friend or foe. This human
union is called the Geneva convention, or more commonly the Red Cross
association. Japan became a party to it in June, 1886, and her soldiers
have already been instructed that they are bound to treat with kindness
and helpfulness such of their enemies as may be disabled by wounds or
disease. China not having joined any such convention, it is possible
that her soldiers, ignorant of these enlightened principles, may subject
diseased or wounded Japanese to merciless treatment. Against such
contingencies, the Japanese troops must be on their guard. But at the
same time they must never forget that however cruel and vindictive the
foe may show himself, he must nevertheless be treated in accordance with
the acknowledged rules of civilization, his disabled succored, his
captured kindly and considerately protected. It is not alone to those
disabled by wounds or sickness that merciful and gentle treatment should
be extended. Similar treatment is also due to those who offer no
resistance to our arms; even the body of a dead enemy should be treated
with respect. We cannot too much admire the course pursued by a certain
western nation which in handing over the body of an enemy’s general,
complied with all the rites and ceremonies suitable to the rank of the
dead man. Japanese soldiers should always bear in mind the gracious
benevolence of their august sovereign, and should not be more anxious to
display courage than to exercise charity. They have now an opportunity
to afford practical proof of the value they attach to these principles.”
[Illustration: JAPANESE MILITARY HOSPITAL.]
At the very time that these actions were occurring in Japan, measures of
increased severity were being taken in China to punish those who were
supposed to be responsible for the defeat. The emperor and his
counsellors were in a state of alternate terror and indignation, at the
break down of the war arrangements and the possibility of a Japanese
invasion. The emperor declared that the recent defeats could only have
been caused by incompetence, or corruption, or both, among those charged
with the conduct of the war, and the enemies of Li Hung Chang sedulously
encouraged this mood. The viceroy himself remained to all appearances
entirely unmoved. He made no preparation to proceed to the headquarters
of the army in the field as it had been reported he would do, and it was
believed that he would not leave Tien-tsin as long as his enemy had the
ear of the emperor.
As Chinese fortunes went down, and admirals and generals and princes
lost their high standing in the good graces of the emperor, other
officials rose in favor to take their place. The personality of some of
these men is peculiarly interesting because of the intimate connection
and high authority they had from this time in the conduct of the war.
On the 30th of September an imperial decree was issued, appointing
Prince Kung, the emperor’s uncle, and the presidents of the Tsung-li
Yamen and the Admiralty, as a special committee to conduct the war
operations in co-operation with Li Hung Chang.
Prince Kung, whose proper title was Kung-tsin-wang, or the Reverend
Kindred Prince, whom the emperor of China brought back to honor from
retirement and disgrace by appointing him co-director with Li Hung Chang
of the war arrangements, was a man who in the past had played a very
important part in the history of China. At the outbreak of the war he
was some sixty-three years of age, having been born about 1831. He was a
man of great vigor and determination of character, and was possessed of
abilities of a very high order. Prince Kung was the sixth son of Emperor
Tankwang, who died in 1850. His personal name, which was used only by
his family, was Yih-hu, while the people called him Wu-ako, or the Fifth
Elder Brother. Prince Kung came to the front first in 1860, when Emperor
Hien Feng the son of Tankwang fled from Peking, on the advance of the
allied armies of Great Britain and France. At this critical moment the
former returned to the capital, assumed the reins of government, and
entered into negotiations with the allies. Having accepted their
ultimatum, he surrendered the northeast gate, which commanded the city,
on October 13, and eleven days later the treaty of Peking was signed by
him and Lord Elgin.
[Illustration: REVIEW OF CHINESE TROOPS AT PORT ARTHUR.]
The following year Emperor Hien Feng died, leaving a son as heir, whose
age was only five years. Four of Prince Kung’s elder brothers were
already dead, and the fifth had lost his position in Emperor Tankwang’s
household by being adopted into the family of another emperor. There was
thus no one to claim precedence of him as the first prince of blood
royal, during the minority of Tung-chi, the new emperor. A conspiracy
had, however, been formed against him, with which he found it necessary
to grapple immediately. The late emperor had left the administration of
affairs practically in the hands of a council of eight, of whom Prince I
was at the head. This council had decided upon a plan of action for
seizing the reins of power. They proposed to obtain possession of the
emperor’s person, to put the empress-regents out of the way, and to kill
Prince Kung and his two surviving brothers. Prince Kung, however, was
not to be found napping. Having received news of the plot, he at once
took measures to prevent its successful accomplishment, by carrying off
the young emperor to Peking. The conspirators were then arrested and
brought to trial. The Princes I and Chin, being of the blood royal, were
permitted to take the “happy dispatch.” The rest of the conspirators
were either beheaded or banished. Thus did Prince Kung save from
destruction the reigning dynasty of China.
For his great services he was at once proclaimed “Regent Prince,” and in
conjunction with the two empress-regents assumed the government of
China. He immediately adopted a vigorous policy in dealing with the
Tai-Ping rebels, which was crowned with success. After Colonel Gordon’s
capture of Suchow, at the head of his ever victorious army, Prince Kung
bestowed upon him a medal and ten thousand taels, which were refused.
Prince Kung also successfully put down the Mohammedan rising in Yun-nan
and Kan-pu, and opened up diplomatic intercourse with European powers.
Prince Kung’s determination not to accept the gunboats purchased in 1861
nearly led to serious results, and cost England $5,000,000. This crucial
period was followed by another in 1870 when the Tien-tsin massacre
occurred. In all these events Prince Kung showed that he possessed the
gifts of a great statesman. When Emperor Tung-chi died childless in
1875, the choice of a successor to the dragon throne lay between
Tsai-ching, the son of Prince Kung, and Tsai-tien, the son of Prince
Chun, his younger brother. As the election of the former would have
compelled the retirement of Prince Kung from active participation in the
government of China, and as a continuance of his services was a matter
of absolute necessity for his country, Tsai-ching was passed over in
favor of Tsai-tien, a child of only four years of age, who adopted the
name of Kwang-Su, or illustrious successor. Prince Kung, however,
continued to act as regent of the country. The present emperor assumed
the reigns of power in 1887, and subsequently he dismissed with disgrace
the man whom he was afterwards pleased to honor, and who had rendered to
China and the reigning dynasty such services as ought never to be
forgotten.
When the Chinese fled from Ping-Yang towards Wi-ju they left behind them
nearly a million dollars in treasure, thirty-six guns, two thousand
tents, one thousand three hundred horses, and a considerable quantity of
rice and other stores. Hard pressed by the pursuing Japanese, they
abandoned their remaining four guns at An-ju, a town some seventy-five
miles north of Ping-Yang. Thirty miles farther on, at Chong-ju, an
important provincial town, they made a temporary halt, having received
orders to hold the place pending the arrival of large reinforcements
from the north. But the pursuit was too hot, and Chong-ju was evacuated
without fighting. The next stand attempted to be made was at Ngan, where
the troops were reinforced by orders from Shin-King, the province in
which Mukden is situated. For a few days it was prophesied that the
decisive battle of the war would be fought there, but the Chinese again
abandoned their position and fell back upon Kaichan.
The Japanese army, while pushing forward towards Manchooria, showed the
greatest consideration in their dealings with the Coreans, and any
attempt at robbery or outrage on the part of the soldiery was most
severely punished. The private soldiers were under the strictest orders
to pay cash for everything that they obtained from the natives, and
pains were taken to see that they should carry out their instructions.
The result was that the Coreans began to appreciate that the Japanese
were better friends to them than were the Chinese. The latter had been
very severe in their exactions of supplies from the populace, and even
though the Corean sympathies had been with the Chinese, the common
people objected to the expense of quartering the army without
recompense.
[Illustration: JAPANESE SOLDIERS DIGGING A WELL.]
On the 4th of October the main portion of the advance Japanese column
reached Yong-chon, a little to the south of Wi-ju, after the difficult
march from Ping-Yang, retarded by an extensive commissariat department
and many guns. No sign of the enemy was reported at this place. Four
days later, scouts reported that a small Chinese force still occupied
Wi-ju, and a detachment of Japanese infantry and cavalry was thrown
forward, supported by light artillery, to dislodge them. The Chinese
offered but a slight resistance and fled precipitately before the smart
attack, finally succeeding in getting across the Yalu. The larger body
of Chinese troops had withdrawn across the river before this time, so
that the forces remaining in Corea numbered not more than two thousand.
Their loss in killed and wounded probably did not exceed one hundred.
Wi-ju was occupied by the Japanese on the same day, and on the day after
they began a reconnoissance which revealed the fact that the Chinese
were still in force in the northern bank of the river. Eight intrenched
batteries were discovered, and the enemy were rapidly throwing up fresh
earthworks and building new batteries. Obviously the next fight was to
be expected at this place, and if the Chinese held their grounds it
would be a sanguinary one.
Marshal Yamagata still maintained his base at Ping-Yang, as being more
convenient for securing his supplies by sea, while General Nodzu
remained in advance with the forces. The Japanese line of communication
was now complete throughout Corea, a sufficient number of troops being
scattered through the peninsula at Fusan, Asan, Chemulpo, Seoul, Gensan,
and Ping-Yang to guard against any hostilities on the part of the
natives, and to make reinforcement by land safe. The government of Wi-ju
was placed in the hands of a Japanese officer acting as special
commissioner. The field telegraph was established in working order
within two days after the capture of the place, and a regular courier
service to the rear was inaugurated at once.
At the same time two or three detached revolts were in progress, the
most important one being that of the Togakuto rebels in the province of
Kiung-sang. These rebels were still in arms and in the mountain
fastnesses it was hard to get near them. They had with them fifty
Chinese soldiers who escaped when the Chinese were defeated at Asan and
then joined the rebels. Those who had taken up arms against the corrupt
Corean officials in the Province of Chung-chong had been dispersed,
however, and the more formidable ones were now being gradually hemmed
in.
When the middle of October came, the two armies were still facing each
other on the banks of the Yalu. The Chinese had not yet fired a shot but
kept at work night and day improving the natural advantages of their
position. On the Japanese side there was no desire unduly to hurry the
fighting, Marshal Yamagata choosing to wait for his heavier artillery
and supplies before attacking. Spies kept him admirably informed as to
the movements of the enemy, their defenses, and their artillery. They
estimated the total strength of the Chinese massed along the north bank
of the Yalu as between twenty-five and thirty thousand.
While the two armies are thus facing one another across the Yalu River,
the Chinese having been driven from their last foothold in Corea, let us
turn to the condition of affairs in the capitals of the two nations. The
enemies of Li Hung Chang in Peking were busy in their efforts to cast
disgrace upon him. Sheng, the taotai or chief magistrate of Tien-tsin,
fell into disgrace and it was immediately alleged that he was a nephew
of Li Hung Chang’s and that the latter was probably a sharer in the
results of his dishonesty. Just before the war broke out Sheng was
commissioned to purchase arms and ammunition for the imperial troops, to
be distributed to them as they arrived from the interior on the way to
Corea. Rifles and cartridges were duly purchased, and nearly all were
served out to the troops. As soon as they were put to the test of actual
service they were found to be almost worthless, and strong complaints
were sent to Peking and Tien-tsin. Li Hung Chang himself conducted an
inquiry, and learned therefrom that Sheng bought from German agents
three hundred thousand rifles of obsolete pattern, part of the discarded
weapons, in fact, of more than one European army. The contract price of
these rifles as between Sheng and the German sellers was two taels each,
but the price charged by Sheng to the imperial treasury was nine taels
each. The cartridges were of very inferior quality and of various
pattern, and Sheng made a large profit on them also. After Sheng’s guilt
was proven upon him by the viceroy, he retired to his palace and for a
time was seen no more in public. It was stated semi-officially that he
applied for and was granted leave of absence on the ground of ill
health. But a few days later it was reported that he was again enjoying
the authority of his office, having been sustained against Li’s wishes
by some of the viceroy’s enemies. Li’s enemies became bolder and bolder.
Placards denouncing him as the cause of China’s troubles were posted on
the walls of Tien-tsin and children in the streets sang doggerel songs
ridiculing and insulting the great viceroy.
The foreigners resident in Peking and Tien-tsin became very restless
under the impending invasion of China by the Japanese. Assaults on
foreigners in Peking and its environs, which have been of constant
occurrence during the last ten years, increased in frequency and
gravity. Several English and American families withdrew to Shanghai
because of the prevalence of street rowdyism. Tien-tsin was full of
troops from the interior, but nearly all of them were the merest rabble,
wretchedly clad, mutinous through lack of pay and insufficient rations,
and useless for real war because of their antiquated weapons. Their
continued presence in Tien-tsin was a distinct danger alike to Chinese
and Europeans. An imperial edict published in Peking assumed full
responsibility for the protection of foreign residents, denounced
rowdyism, and ordered the punishment of certain culprits who had
assaulted travelers. It assured the strangers the protection of their
persons and their property, and was especially favorable to
missionaries. The whole tone of the edict was considered highly
satisfactory, and yet the government had failed to punish those who were
responsible for the assaults and had taken no cognizance of the murder
of a missionary, except to permit the governor of the province where the
crime was committed to retain his high position.
A rebellion broke out in the district of Jeho, in the province of Chihli
early in October, consequent on the rumored invasion of the Japanese.
The imperial summer residence was in this city. Another Chinese
rebellion broke out in the province of Hoopih about one hundred miles
from Hankow. The local authorities attempted to quell the first rising
but failed. Some of their soldiers were killed and others joined the
rebels. Two mandarins lost their lives. In consequence of the urgent
demands of the imperial authorities the province had been quite denuded
of troops and there was practically no means at the command of the
authorities to keep them in check. The Europeans at Hankow were
seriously alarmed and many of them withdrew to Shanghai.
The emperor of China, early in October, began to take the initiative,
attempting to infuse new energy into the national defense. It was indeed
reported that he had disguised himself, and in person visited Tien-tsin,
accompanied only by a few trusted servants, in order to see for himself
what was going on, and particularly to learn the truth as to the alleged
incapacity of Li Hung Chang to carry on the arrangements for the war. It
was not, however, the emperor who made the journey in disguise, but his
former tutor and trusted adviser Weng Toung Ho, the President of the
Board of Revenue, or Finance Department. He also went to Port Arthur,
Wei-hai-wei, and other places, and thoroughly informed himself of the
state of affairs, civil, naval, and military. On returning to Peking he
made an exhaustive report to the emperor, upon which the latter
immediately began to take more interest in public affairs. He declined
to sign documents until they had been previously read and explained to
him, and called for special reports from the naval and military
commanders. His next act was to summon to Peking the viceroys and
governors of provinces, to receive from them accounts of the steps taken
to comply with the demands of the imperial government, and to obtain
from them their views as to the state of affairs. It was believed
however by foreigners most able to judge that throughout all these
actions the dowager empress of China was the active power in control. It
was also believed that she was really a friend to Li Hung Chang, and
that he would not suffer ultimate destruction unless she turned against
him.
[Illustration: CONSTANTINE VON HANNECKEN.]
Another important action taken by the emperor was to confer the highest
grade of the Order of the Double Dragon upon Captain Von Hannecken for
his services at the naval battle of the Yalu River and to place him
under practically sole control of the naval forces of China.
Constantine von Hannecken, the German officer who was put in supreme
control of what was left of the Chinese navy, had already seen a great
deal of service in the war with Japan before his promotion to that post.
He was on board the Kow-shing when she was overhauled and sunk by the
Japanese cruiser Naniwa-Kan, with a loss of more than a thousand Chinese
soldiers. Von Hannecken was left struggling in the water when the
Kow-shing sank, but had the rare good fortune to be picked up by a boat.
Still more recently he was high in command of the Chinese fleet at the
disastrous battle of the Yalu River. He was slightly wounded but was
soon ready for action again. This brave man was born in Wiesbaden,
Germany, in 1854, and was a son of the late Lieutenant-General von
Hannecken. He served the usual term in the German army, and in 1879 went
to China, where he was soon high in favor with Li Hung Chang. He
mastered the Chinese language in a single year. His technical military
knowledge, amiability, and tact, gained for him the position of personal
adjutant to Li Hung Chang, with a large salary. He devoted much of his
time to the construction of bridges and forts, and the fortifications at
Port Arthur and Wei-hai-wei were built under his personal direction. He
was rapidly promoted to the highest military places within the gift of
Li Hung Chang and the government, and received buttons, feathers, and
jackets galore.
About a year before the outbreak of the war, having grown rich in the
service of the dragon throne, he resigned from the Chinese army and
returned to his home in Germany. After a stay of a few months he sailed
again for China with the intention of settling his affairs there and
retiring to Germany. The war with Japan changed this plan, and he
promptly reëntered the service of China.
[Illustration:
THE ATTACK ON PORT ARTHUR.
Japanese Drawing.
]
Admiral Ting and Captain Von Hannecken visited Wei-hai-wei to examine
its defenses, and satisfied themselves that the harbor was practically
impregnable from the sea. Japanese war vessels continually patrolled all
parts of the Gulf of Pechili, and were frequently seen from Port Arthur,
Chefoo and Wei-hai-wei. The Japanese fleet was also sighted several
times ten miles off Shan-hai-kwan, less than two hundred miles from
Peking.
The main body of the Chinese army was now entrenched in a strong
position protected by a line of rectangular forts newly constructed
across the northeast border of the province of Chihli. The Manchoos were
held in reserve nearer Tien-tsin than Peking. Sung Kwei, the emperor’s
father-in-law, was in command of five thousand picked Manchoo soldiers
at Shan-hai-kwan, which was a city of great strategic importance, the
starting point of a great highroad to Peking from the coast.
General Sung, formerly commander of Port Arthur, was appointed to be
Generalissimo of the Pei-Yang army corps in manchooria and Chief
Commander of the Manchoo levies, with the exception of the Kirin
division, which remained under the command of the Tartar general. The
Chinese headquarters were established at Chiu-lien-tcheng. Generals Yeh
and Wei were degraded by imperial edict.
On the 15th of October the newly-elected Japanese Diet met for a short
preliminary session at Hiroshima, where the mikado had established his
headquarters. The election of officers was immediately proceeded with,
Mr. Kusumoto being chosen president, and Mr. Shimada vice-president. The
formal opening of the Parliament took place two days later. The mikado
in his speech announced that he had decided to convene an extraordinary
session, and had given direction to his ministers to submit for the
deliberation of the Diet a bill providing for increased expenditure for
the army and navy, which was an important matter. His Majesty declared
that he was greatly pained that China should have forgotten her duties
in regard to the maintenance of peace in the east in conjunction with
Japan, she having brought about the present state of affairs. “However,”
proceeded the emperor, “as hostilities have begun we shall not stop
until we have obtained our utmost objects.” In conclusion, His Majesty
expressed the hope that all subjects of the empire would co-operate with
the government, in order to promote the restoration of peace by means of
the great triumph of the Japanese arms.
The president of the two chambers of the Diet presented an address in
reply to the speech from the throne, thanking the mikado for advancing
the imperial standard and for personally assuming the direction of the
war. The victories which had been secured by the Japanese arms by land
and sea were the natural result. The address in conclusion said: “His
Majesty rightly considers China the enemy of civilization. We will
comply with the imperial desire to destroy the barbarous obstinacy of
that power.”
In the House of Peers, on October 19, Count Ito, the premier, made an
elaborate speech in support of the government measures for meeting the
expenses of the war, and defended Japan against the charge of having
precipitated the hostilities. He narrated in detail the circumstances
which had led up to the war, and read the correspondence which had
passed between the mikado’s government and the authorities at Peking,
before the rupture of diplomatic relations. The premier’s statement made
a great impression, and intensified the keenly patriotic feeling
manifested by the members of the Diet, not a dissenting voice being
raised against the ministerial bills. The following day the war budget
of 150,000,000 yen passed both houses unanimously. This was the most
important part of the proceedings of Parliament. The two houses fully
demonstrated that they desired to hold up the hands of the government,
and grant everything which might be asked to insure the success of the
Japanese arms.
Simultaneously with the opening of Parliament an important diplomatic
move was made by the Japanese. Now that Japan was practically in
undisputed possession of Corea, the moment was considered opportune for
the carrying out of those thorough reforms in the internal government of
the country, to which Japanese statesmen looked forward as the best
guarantee against foreign influence in the future. In order to
strengthen the hands of Mr. Otori, the Japanese minister at Seoul, the
emperor selected Count Inouye, minister of the interior, to proceed to
the Corean capital to act as special adviser to Mr. Otori.
The Japanese Parliament had occasion to welcome an important Corean
messenger. The second son of the peninsular monarch left Chemulpo on the
day the session began, as a special envoy to the mikado, returning the
visit made to the king by the Marquis Sainonji. The young prince and his
embassy, consisting of eight leading nobles, were received by the mikado
and his principal ministers, being welcomed most cordially.
Just prior to the opening of the session, the British government
addressed a circular note to the ministers of the great powers,
suggesting intervention in the affairs of the east. The Chinese were in
readiness to make terms of peace, conscious of the enormous sacrifices
and risks which would have to be incurred before she could bring her
immense reserves of strength into action, and being devoid of military
ambition. The British cabinet council which decided upon this letter met
on October 4, and three days later it was generally known, in spite of
government denials, that the action had been taken. The reception of it
was not cordial. In reply to the proposals put forward by England, the
German government formally intimated that it was not prepared to join in
any measures for circumscribing the political results of the conflict
between China and Japan. The French government shared the same view, and
the United States was earnest in the same expression. Russia, too,
decided to avoid interference in connection with other nations,
preferring to retain the opportunity of individual interference. On the
part of Russia, the military commanders in the Amoor province were
ordered to hold troops in readiness, in view of the fact that the
situation in China might make intervention necessary. There seems to be
good ground for believing true the rumor, oft repeated after the battle
of the Yalu, that China had made to Japan overtures for peace, on the
basis of an acknowledgment of Corea’s independence, and payment of an
indemnity for the losses and expenses of the war. The proposal was
rejected by Japan as inadequate. Altogether it seemed that the
initiative taken by the British foreign office was premature to say the
least.
The mikado, in his address to Parliament, made no allusion to the
proposals for peace, but seemed rather to look on the prosecution of the
war to the end as the sole means of insuring lasting tranquility. With
England’s effort for European intervention in mind, Parliament adopted a
resolution that, “No foreign interference will be suffered to obstruct
the great object of the national policy, to secure a guarantee of
permanent peace in the orient.” A renewed offer of mediation in the
interest of peace was made to China and Japan in the name of some of the
European powers, after the adjournment of Parliament. China declared her
willingness to conclude an armistice or a peace on any reasonable terms;
Japan refused to consider the proposal until it should be made directly
at Hiroshima “From a quarter formally accredited and empowered to offer
it.”
The movements of troops, both Japanese and Chinese, were now multiplying
to such an extent, that except for one familiar with the geography of
eastern Asia, they were very confusing. Almost every day it was reported
that some Japanese force had made a landing on the Chinese coast, rumor
after rumor of this sort being circulated and denied. Chinese troops
massed in the vicinities already named, their numbers constantly
increasing. An army of five thousand Japanese was taken by transports
along the east coast of Corea to Possiet harbor, near the boundary of
Siberia, and five thousand Russian troops were posted on the other side,
facing them, to guard the Siberian frontier. Corea was being steadily
cleared of Chinese stragglers, deserters from the late army and others,
who if allowed to be at large might develop into bandits or spies. The
restlessness of the natives in the province of Chulla was difficult to
restrain, and a combined force of Japanese and Corean troops was
despatched to the district to quell the outbreak. Rumors of land battles
in the north of Corea, on the lower Yalu, were circulated every day, but
for a time were foundationless. Towards the end of October, troops began
to pour into Tien-tsin in large numbers daily, and were disposed for the
defense of the capital. Most of the new arrivals were infantry, the bulk
of the cavalry being sent to the Manchoorian provinces to the northeast.
[Illustration]
SURRENDER OF CHINESE GENERAL AND STAFF.
The fleets of the two nations were now again in fighting condition,
although the loss of many vessels suffered by the Chinese at the Yalu
had left them in strength far inferior to the Japanese. The Chinese
fleet was concentrated at Port Arthur and Wei-hai-wei, where it was
believed to be safe from attack or favorably situated for offensive
operations. The Japanese squadron under Admiral Ito was concentrated at
Ping-Yang. On October 18 the last of the transports carrying the second
Japanese army steamed out of the harbor of Ujina on their way to
Hiroshima, where they were held in readiness for active operations.
The extraordinary session of the Japanese diet at Hiroshima was closed
October 22, all the bills submitted by the government having passed
unanimously. Before separating, the Diet voted a memorial urgently
requesting the officers of the government to execute the desires of the
Mikado, in order that Japan might achieve a complete victory over the
Chinese, whereby peace would be restored in the east and the glory of
the Japanese nation increased. A resolution was passed unanimously,
placing upon record the thanks of the nation to the army and navy, for
the gallantry and patriotism displayed by all ranks, and for the
splendid success which had attended the Japanese arms.
[Illustration: MAP OF TERRITORY ADJACENT TO THE MOUTH OF THE YALU.]
On October 24 Count Yamagata, commander-in-chief of the Japanese forces
in Corea, threw a small force across the Yalu, thus invading Chinese
territory. In order to understand the subsequent operations, a brief
topographical explanation is here necessary. At a little distance below
Wi-ju, the Yalu, flowing west, receives a tributary, the Ai, coming from
the northeast. Chiu-lien lies in the western, or obtuse-angled corner
formed by the junction of the two rivers, some distance back from their
banks. Within the eastern, or acute-angled corner the land rises to an
eminence called Hu-shan. A traveler by the main road from Wi-ju to
Chiu-lien, having crossed the Yalu, must pass on the left or to the west
of Hu-shan, which overlooks the highway, and thus reaching the Ai must
cross it also to Chiu-lien. The Chinese had intrenched Hu-shan, and
posted there a force estimated by the Japanese at three thousand five
hundred, but subsequently alleged by prisoners to have aggregated seven
or eight thousand.
The plan pursued by Field-Marshal Count Yamagata was to occupy a long
stretch of the Yalu River, so that his point of passage would remain to
the last uncertain, and any flanking movement on the east by the
cavalry, of which the enemy possessed a large force, was rendered
impossible. Having rested his troops and completed his arrangement for a
final advance, he threw a battalion across the river under Colonel Sato,
at Shai-ken-chau, a place ten miles up stream from Wi-ju. The passage
was made by wading and was unopposed. The detachment was composed
entirely of riflemen, no cavalry or artillery accompanying them. A
Chinese earthwork had been thrown up at this point to oppose a landing,
but a slight deviation enabled the detachment to cross without
interference. An attack was immediately opened on the Chinese position,
which was garrisoned only by a few artillerymen and infantry. They fled
after the first two or three rounds had been fired, and the Japanese
captured the works with a rush. A regiment of Manchoorian cavalry
arrived as the little garrison fled, and covered their retreat. The
Chinese made for the batteries constructed lower down the river, the
infantry throwing away their arms in their flight. The Chinese loss was
about twenty killed and wounded, while on the Japanese side not a man
was hit. The Japanese force now moved down the river and captured the
Chinese fortifications at the Suckochi ferry, where they passed the
night. The Japanese engineers had pontoons in readiness for passage
across the river.
[Illustration: JAPANESE ARMY CROSSING THE YALU, ON A PONTOON BRIDGE.]
During the night of the 24th, the Japanese pontoon men threw a bridge
across the Yalu at the ferry, and at dawn the main body of the army,
having passed over unopposed, commenced an attack against Hu-shan,
Colonel Sato’s brigade coming into action simultaneously from the other
side. The battle began at 6:30 A.M., and lasted until a few minutes past
10. At first the Chinese held their ground with tolerable firmness, but
presently, finding their position swept by rifle and artillery fire from
a hill on their right flank, of which possession had been taken by a
brigade under Major-General Osako, they broke and fled across the Ai to
Chiu-lien. The reserves, however, did not join the rout. Posted
advantageously, they preserved their formation and maintained a resolute
fire, until thrown into confusion by a flanking movement, which placed a
large force under Major-General Tachimi to the rear of their left. Then
they too gave way, and retreated in confusion across the Ai, so hotly
pursued that they had to abandon ten pieces of artillery. The Japanese
had lost twenty killed and eighty-three wounded; the Chinese two hundred
and fifty killed and a somewhat large number of wounded. Two divisions
of the army then crossed the Ai and encamped on the east of Chiu-lien,
the brigades of Major-General Tachimi and Colonel Sato posting
themselves on the same side of the Ai, but further north, so as to
menace the same road from Chiu-lien northward to Feng-hwang. Field
Marshal Yamagata and Lieutenant-General Nodzu took up their quarters in
a farmer’s house to the northeast of Hu-shan. Thus with all the
advantages of elevated ground, a position fortified at leisure, and a
force ample for defensive purposes, the feebleness and faulty strategy
of the Chinese converted into a mere skirmish what ought to have been a
sanguinary battle.
The following morning, October, 26, before dawn, a general advance was
commenced against Chiu-lien. It was supposed that the enemy would make
an obstinate stand there, since after Feng-hwang the fortified town of
Chiu-lien ranks as a position of eminent importance in the defense of
southwestern Manchooria. Moreover, throughout the night a cannonade had
been kept up from the town against the Japanese camp, and though the
invading columns were posted so that the enemy’s missiles passed
harmlessly over them, this resolute service of guns seemed to promise
stout fighting on the following day. But in truth the artillery was
employed merely in the vain hope of intimidating the assailants, or in
order to cover the flight of the garrison. The Japanese encountered no
resistance whatever. At eight o’clock in the morning they entered
Chiu-lien. The enemy had decamped in the direction of Feng-hwang before
dawn, leaving behind him almost everything, twenty-two guns, three
hundred tents, large stores of ammunition and quantities of grain and
forage.
The series of defeats following the crossing of the Yulu River by the
Japanese seemed to complete the Chinese demoralization in that vicinity.
The defeated forces probably numbered more than twenty thousand men, the
victorious army was considerably inferior in numbers, the batteries were
well built, and the position was a strong one. The continuous loss of
artillery, and throwing away of muskets and rifles wherever the Chinese
made retreat, was gradually depleting the stores of arms possessed by
the forces in Manchooria, leaving them unable to fight even if they had
desired to. A little fighting evidently went a long way with them. Did
they carry away their artillery and stores, these precipitate retreats
might possess some strategical character, but they simply saved their
own lives, leaving all their material of war behind them. The troops at
Chiu-lien were not ill-disciplined or badly armed from a Chinese point
of view. Coming from Port Arthur, from Taku, and from Lu-tai, they
ranked among the best soldiers China could put into the field. If such
men proved themselves so conspicuously invertebrate, it was to be
questioned whether or not the addition to their number of a few thousand
Tartars would make them stand more stiffly in a subsequent conflict. It
seemed even to the friends of China that her capacity for resisting the
invasion of Manchooria in the face of well-organized and resolute
attack, was simply contemptible.
[Illustration: THE JAPANESE AT PORT ARTHUR.]
The second invasion of Chinese territory was made by the second Japanese
army corps, twenty-two thousand strong, under the command of General
Count Oyama. These forces sailed in transports from Hiroshima, and on
October 24 commenced landing in a little cove northeast of Talien-wan
Bay and protected by the Elliot islands from the open sea. Talien-wan
Bay was avoided because the Chinese were known to have made some
preparations to resist a landing there. The peninsula which juts out
southwestward between the Gulf of Liao-Tung and Corea Bay is known
variously as the Liao-Tung peninsula and the Kwang Tung peninsula. Every
yard of it was familiar to the Japanese military staff, and had been
included in their system of minute cartography, so that whatever point
they selected was well chosen. Up to the last moment it had been
supposed by the general public that Port Adams, on the west of the
peninsula, would be the port of debarkation, but as that would have
involved the passing of a great flotilla of transports into Pechili
Gulf, it was considered too hazardous an operation. The last of the
flotilla of fifty transports left Hiroshima October 18, and the fleet
having assembled at Shimonoseki, steamed westward on the morning of the
19th. A distance of eight hundred miles had to be traversed, and in this
case as in all previous operations everything worked with smoothness and
success. On the evening of the 23rd the great flotilla reached its
destination, and on the following morning the landing was commenced.
There was no resistance. The Pei-yang squadron did not show. Had there
been any ordinary exercise of vigilance on the part of Admiral Ting’s
war ships they must have sighted the Japanese flotilla in ample time to
strike at it. That they would have effected nothing in the face of the
convoying squadron may be taken for granted, but if the prospect of
failure deterred them from making any effort to protect their own
headquarters, China’s only dockyard and really important naval station
in the north, they certainly deserved the indifference with which the
Japanese treated them. From the time of the naval battle of September
17, the Pei-yang squadron played no part in the war. Many attempts were
made to prove that it had not been vitally hurt in the encounter, and
that a few days would suffice to put it in a thorough state of repair.
But whether repaired or not it disappeared from the scene, and the
Japanese cruisers thenceforth roamed at will along the Chinese coasts.
With the move towards the investment of Port Arthur, and the crossing of
the Yalu, the war entered upon a new phase. In selecting Port Arthur as
an objective point, the Japanese were well advised. By such an attack a
dockyard of the first importance was threatened, and full advantage of
naval superiority could be taken. The Kwang Tung peninsula, or “Regent’s
Sword,” was peculiarly inaccessible by land, while a power in command of
the sea could land men at pleasure at several points within a short
distance of Port Arthur, and with a small force only could isolate it
from the mainland.
Two days after the landing of troops on the peninsula, the collection of
a third army at Hiroshima commenced. This force was to number
twenty-four thousand, and be under the command of Lieutenant-General
Viscount Takashima. At the same time another revolt of some little
magnitude arose in the south of Corea, and two thousand rebels attacked
the quarters of the Japanese commissary at Anpo. The malcontents were
afterwards dispersed by a military force though not without difficulty.
We have now reached the end of October. The first Japanese army is
safely installed on the north bank of the Yalu River in Manchoorian
territory, threatening the road to Mukden, Niuchwang and the intervening
cities. The second army is safe on shore on the Kwang Tung peninsula,
threatening China’s proudest naval station. The next month will see the
fall of Port Arthur and the practical destruction of all Chinese hopes
of ultimate success.
REVIEW OF THE PROGRESS OF THE WAR TO THE
FIRST OF NOVEMBER.
--------------
Characteristics of the two Nations in War—China’s Ignorance of the
Coasts of Corea—Japan’s Knowledge of Chinese Topography and
Climate—Patriotism in the Two Countries—Bad Judgment of China in Methods
of Conducting the War—The Governmental Weather-Vane and its
Revolutions—No Commander-in-Chief for the Chinese Army—Official
Corruption in Civil as Well as Military Officials—The Battles of
Ping-Yang and the Yalu River—Handling the Forces of the Enemies.
At this period in the war, occurs a lull which makes it possible and
wise to take a glance at the whole course of affairs during the
hostilities, since the declaration three months earlier. The war has
advanced far enough to prove the mettle of both combatants, and to
furnish data for judging of the probable issue of the struggle, at least
from a purely military point of view. At the beginning of November,
prophets were quite well equipped with material for predictions that
were surely not to be disappointed, and it is from the aspect at this
date that the present chapter takes its view. On the one side there is
little but praise to be offered. The Japanese have proved themselves
assiduous students of all modern armaments, and have in many points
bettered their European instruction. They have made good their claim to
be the rising power of the Orient.
Of the Chinese a diametrically opposite account must be given. From a
military standpoint nothing favorable can be said of them, and the only
palliation of their failure is that they were wholly unprepared for an
unexpected aggression. The course of the war has brought out in strong
relief what has not always been clearly recognized, the essential
differences between the two belligerent nations. A stronger contrast is
scarcely imaginable than that between China and Japan, though they are
so near and have been nursed on a common literature. With passionate
effort the Japanese have ransacked the western world for its treasures
of knowledge, and have vigorously applied what they have learned. The
Chinese, on the other hand, have set their faces against the science of
other nations, and with an unhappy mixture of apathy and contempt have
rejected the teaching which has pressed upon them. In the same spirit
they have spurned the knowledge of their own country and of their own
forces, while the Japanese have been for years making a minute study of
both, and possess maps and details which the Chinese themselves have not
and do not care for. The Chinese have carried on a large trade with the
Yalu river, but the government knew nothing of the coast. Captain Calder
of Port Arthur made a holiday expedition to the Manchoo-Corean coast,
found the country beautiful, and recommended the naval authorities to
let the cadets go and improve themselves by surveying it. Nothing was
done, the sole reason being that the incidental expenses of the ships
would be increased by being at sea, and the captains would not save so
much of their monthly allowance. Now the only survey the Chinese admiral
possesses even of the scene of the late naval battle, is the outline
made by Captain Calder himself. The Japanese navy has complete charts
both of the Corean and the Chinese coasts. In the summer of 1893 a small
expedition of Japanese disguised as Chinese, in a native boat surveyed
the islands and coasts of the Gulf of Pechili, spending eight days in
the immediate neighborhood of Port Arthur. The topography and
physiography of North China have been their study for years.
A Japanese physician even devoted a whole year to the climate and
pathology. With his headquarters in Tien-tsin, where he plied the
foreign doctors incessantly with queries, this Japanese investigator
thoroughly explored the province of Chihli, and probably knows more of
the climatic conditions of North China than any other living man. He
pretended he had the intention of practicing among the Chinese, as
possibly he may in the not distant future. The Chinese have started
exotic medical schools, but they have not overcome the elementary
difficulty about dissection, and the enterprise is but half hearted. As
for employing competent men to gather knowledge, the whole idea is
foreign to the Chinese official mind, and they only accept ungraciously
as a gift the results of the explorations of enthusiasts for science. It
is not, therefore, the accident of being a little earlier in the field,
or quicker in movement to seize the benefit of an opportunity, that
gives the Japanese such crushing advantages over the Chinese, but rather
a deep-seated, congenital love of improvement on one side and hatred of
it on the other.
Another essential difference between the people is their exhibition of
patriotism. The Japanese are saturated with it, while the Chinese have
none. The instinct of loyalty is there, and it can be called out by any
man, native or foreign, who is worthy of it, but in the sense of
nationality the Chinese have no capacity for enthusiasm, and the people
as a whole are indifferent as to who rules them, so long as they are
left to cultivate their gardens. For want of a patriotic focus, what
would elsewhere be treachery is in China a commonplace of official
practices; every man to the limit of his small ability selling his
country for his private benefit, and no one able to cast a stone at his
neighbor. In Japan it would be impossible to get a man to betray his
fatherland; in China where is the man who would not? From the same root
springs the incredible difference between the peoples in their treatment
of soldiers and sailors. In the one country they are made heroes of, the
people at home send delicacies to the troops abroad, honor the dead, and
nurse the wounded. In the other the men are treated worse than dogs,
robbed of their small pay, deserted, discarded, or grossly neglected by
their leaders whenever they can be dispensed with and their monthly pay
saved. Attachment between men and officers in China is a rare, though
not an unknown thing, for the Chinese are, after all, human at heart, if
one can but penetrate the pile of hereditary corruption which has
covered up the divine spark.
The foregoing are but examples which might be multiplied indefinitely,
of the antitheses of Chinese and Japanese character and mode of action.
If to all this is added the fact that the Japanese are a people who
delight in war, while the Chinese abominate it, no further search is
needed for explanation of the actual result. It is simply ignorance
overcome by science, indifference by energy.
The Chinese have conducted the campaign in the manner those best
acquainted with them would have predicted, doing on most occasions the
utterly wrong thing, or stumbling on the right thing at the wrong time
in the wrong way. But the most pessimistic prophet could hardly have
predicted the utter inaptitude of the Chinese military movements. It is
not only that they have failed to learn the modern art of war, but that
they have forgotten the old methods. It was thought that Chinese troops,
though deficient in enterprise, might at least make a respectable
defense. They were advised never to risk a pitched battle, but to
retreat slowly, giving trouble to the enemy by night attacks on his
baggage, and compelling him to use up an army corps to keep open his
line of communication. They failed in every point, and allowed
themselves to be chased and caught like sheep, losing stores, guns, and
munitions. When all else failed, it was said that winter would come to
their assistance, as the Japanese could never stand the cold, while the
Chinese and Manchoos were inured to it. But when the cold came it was
found that it was not the Japanese but the Chinese who suffered, having
abandoned their warm clothing in precipitate flight. Their heart was
never in the business, and nothing therefore could go right with the
Chinese conduct of the war.
While the war was incubating, China had to make up her mind how she was
to meet the aggression of the Japanese in Corea. Candid friends, who
knew well that her inchoate forces could never be a match for any
organized army whatsoever, commended strictly defensive strategy. She
was caught in the false position—in a military sense, though it was
politically correct—of having a small force isolated in southern Corea,
while the Japanese were occupying the capital in strength. The fighting
value of the respective fleets was as yet an unknown quantity, but on
the Japanese side there was confidence in their own superiority, and on
the part of the Chinese a tacit acquiescence in that estimate. Under
such circumstances an over-sea campaign was an absurdity for China, and
the commonest prudence dictated that the small garrison at Asan be
withdrawn before the outbreak of war.
[Illustration: SINKING OF THE KOW-SHING. (_Drawn by a Chinese Artist._)]
This crisis in affairs was met, as crises usually are in China, by
divided counsels; moral cowardice on the part of those who knew, blind
rage on the part of those who did not know, and the submission of the
judgment of the informed to the arbitrary decrees and even the insidious
advice of the uninformed. To speak plainly, Li Hang Chang, on whom the
burden of the war would in all cases rest, and who knew something,
though very little, of the power of discipline and organization, and who
from the first was strongly opposed to the intervention in Corea, which
was forced on him by pressure applied from Peking, was for withdrawing
the garrison from Asan. In answer to his memorials to the throne, he had
obtained the imperial authority and had hired transports to bring the
troops over into Chinese territory. But other counsels supervened, and
Li Hung Chang refrained from giving effect to his own views. As the
Japanese were by imperial fiat to be driven out of Corea, it followed
that the garrison at Asan must be strengthened, and China committed
herself to the conditions of war dictated by the enemy, an offensive war
oversea, which was entirely beyond China’s capacity.
[Illustration: NAVAL SKIRMISH, JULY 25TH. (_Drawn by a Chinese
Artist._)]
There were still discussions and hesitations up to the moment of
dispatching troops by sea to Corea. When the expedition of troops was
seen to be inevitable, the Chinese were advised to take at least the
precaution of having the transports escorted by a strong naval squadron.
This was decided to be done, and the ill-fated Kow-shing left Taku on
the clear understanding that an escort of warships would join her
outside Wei-hai-wei, which was two hundred and twenty miles distant, and
roughly half way to Asan. But before the transport had got so far on her
voyage, the official weathercock had set in another direction. The
diplomatic Yuan-si-Kai, former resident in Corea, where he had done so
much to irritate the Japanese, now advised that the appearance of
warships with the transports might give umbrage to the Japanese, and in
deference to this opinion, before the pendulum had time to swing back,
the Kow-shing with twelve hundred men on board, was sent unprotected to
the Bay of Asan. The Japanese consular establishment, with its
wonderfully organized intelligence department, was still in Tien-tsin,
perfectly informed of everything that was being said and done in the
most secret places, and making free use of the telegraph wires.
[Illustration: ROUTED CHINESE FLYING BEFORE THE VICTORIOUS ENEMY.]
With the tragic destruction of the Kow-shing, the war was begun most
disadvantageously to the Chinese. Being by one and the same stroke
deprived of the expected re-enforcements and cut off from the sea, the
small force at Asan had either to fight to the death, surrender, or make
good their retreat by a long and dangerous flank march. This last course
was adopted, and after making sufficient stand to cover their retreat,
not without inflicting loss on the enemy, they succeeded in joining the
Chinese army which had entered Corea from the north-west. The numbers of
the retreating force were given as four thousand, but they were
certainly less.
[Illustration: SKIRMISH ON JULY, 27TH. (_Drawn by a Chinese Artist._)]
The simultaneous engagements by land and sea on the same day, July 25,
proved that the Japanese had determined to begin the war in earnest. The
naval action in which two Chinese ships were waylaid as they were
leaving the Corean coast, served to prove that the Chinese ships could
both fight and run away, and that the Japanese ships were very ably
manœuvred, but the affair had little other significance.
Enraged by the sinking of the transport in time of nominal peace, the
emperor of China ordered the fleet, over the head of Li Hung Chang, to
pursue the enemy to destruction. In obedience to the imperial mandate,
the Pei-yang squadron, in the early days of August, steamed for the
Corean coast, but before sighting it steamed back again. The viceroy Li
then interested himself to obtain a modification of the decree, and the
fleet was commanded to remain on the defensive for the special
protection of the Gulf of Pechili, which instruction held good until the
middle of September, when the fleet was forced to accept battle off the
Yalu river.
[Illustration: BEFORE THE WALL OF SEOUL. (_Drawn by a Chinese Artist._)]
August 1st, troops were ordered to enter Corean territory from the
Manchoorian side, and in the course of the month a considerable force
had filtered its way to the city of Ping-Yang, the strongest strategical
point in western Corea, and even to a considerable distance beyond. The
massing of these troops was conducted in the old rough-and-tumble,
half-hearted Chinese fashion. There was no head, but separate and rival
commands, each general looking only to the viceroy, Li Hung Chang for
orders and supplies, and receiving more of the former than of the
latter.
These Chinese generals are an old world curiosity, scarcely conceivable
in our age. They might be described as army contractors rather than
fighting agents, for like the civil mandarins they buy their posts as an
investment. The battalion or camp is farmed, as regards its expenses, by
the general, who draws from government a lump sum for the maintenance of
the force, and makes his economies according to his conscience, by
falsifying his muster roll and defrauding his men. At the battle or rout
of Ping-Yang there were soldiers who were three, four, and even five
months in arrears of pay, some generals deliberately calculating on the
casualties of war to reduce the number of eventual claimants on the pay
fund. The most notorious offender, General Wei of Ping-Yang notoriety,
who had less than half the troops he drew pay for, and these mostly
untrained coollies, hustled into the ranks to take the place of unpaid
deserters, and in whose program fighting had no place, had paid certain
influential persons liberally for his command. Desertion, it may be
observed in passing, is not regarded as a calamity by an avaricious
Chinese general.
Chinese officers are however by no means all abandoned to money making.
Some are liberal with their funds, just as some are brave and loyal, and
are backed by equally brave and loyal soldiers. The efficiency of a
force depends altogether on the personality of the general, and as in
feudal times in Europe, it is to their chief rather than to any
government or country that the troops feel the ties of allegiance. As
the leader is, therefore, so are the men. General Tso-pao-kwei for
example, who bore to his grave the honors of the fight at Ping-Yang, was
a man well known to many foreigners of different classes, missionary and
others, and the unanimity of good opinion of him is quite remarkable. He
was not only brave, but a courteous and kindly gentleman who gained the
affections of all around. A Mohammedan himself, all his soldiers were of
the same faith, and they stood shoulder to shoulder like heroes in the
face of overpowering odds.
During the month of August, while the Japanese forces were advancing
upon Ping-Yang in three columns, there were outpost skirmishes in which
the Japanese were frequently worsted. These affairs were naturally
enough reported by the Chinese commanders concerned, according to their
lights, as victories, and when it is remembered how the view of each is
bounded by the horizon of his own camp, it is easy to see how they could
deceive themselves as to the significance of such apparent success. The
truth seems to be that the Chinese commanders in and about Ping-Yang did
not realize that they were surrounded, each perhaps thinking it was the
other’s business. They had sent out no scouts, nor posted videttes to
watch the mountain passes to the north of them. These elementary
military precautions had been pressed on Li Hung Chang, who sent
repeated orders to the front to have them seen to; but nothing was done,
for according to the vicious tradition of the Chinese service, the word
is taken for the deed, and orders which are either impracticable or
inconvenient are simply ignored or forgotten, without the delinquent
being ever called to account. Spacious but wholly fictitious excuses
would in any case serve the turn in a system whose fetich is universal
sham. Perhaps, as there was no commander-in-chief, but a number of
independent commands, duties which concerned the army at large fell
within the sphere of no one in particular. But in whatever manner it
came about, the result was that the Chinese remained in comatose
ignorance of the intentions of the enemy, until the only thing left was
precipitate retreat.
The affair of Ping-Yang was observed by one military expert, a Russian,
who speaks in high terms of the precision and completeness of the
Japanese equipment and organization, but the opposition had been so
contemptible throughout the war that the military qualities of the
Japanese have not been seriously put to the proof. They remain a
theoretical quantity. So far as the campaign had gone, to November 1,
the chief obstacles encountered had been bad roads, standing crops, and
sickness.
The second day after the flight from Ping-Yang, September 17, the naval
battle off the Yalu River was fought. The collision of the fleets seems
to have been somewhat unpremeditated. The Chinese were engaged in
disembarking troops for the re-enforcement of the army at Ping-Yang, and
it is a characteristically haphazard proceeding that they should have
been landing troops one hundred and twenty miles from the front, to
strengthen a position already abandoned. The battle which ensued, and
which raged for five hours, has been described with as much fullness as
the limits of this volume permit, but the ultimate truth about it will
perhaps never be fully known except of course to the Japanese
government. From the Chinese side it will be impossible to obtain a
consistent account, not because of intentional concealment, but because
of the simple reason that no one in the Chinese fleet was able to
observe accurately what was going on, except near his own vessel.
Nevertheless the salient points of the battle stand out clear enough.
The sea fight was but a repetition of the land fight, with two important
differences. The first of these was that as the nature of the cause
rendered it impossible to sail modern ships of war at all by
two-thousand-year-old tactics, the mere possession of a fleet required a
European organization. But the organization was imperfect, and would
have been unable to sustain itself in action, but for the presence of
another element in which the Chinese land forces were entirely lacking,
competent foreign direction. This factor also was most imperfect. The
foreign officers had been extemporized hastily, the leader of them being
not even a seaman. They were of various nationalities and were enlisted
about the middle of August. Three engineers, two German, one English;
two gunnery officers, one English, one German; had been for some years
in the fleet, and volunteered for war service. One American engaged for
many years in the Chinese naval college also volunteered for active
service during the war. Captain Von Hannecken, bearing now the rank of
Chinese general, commissioned as Inspector General of Fortifications,
was entrusted with the anomalous office of adviser of the admiral, thus
giving him the real command of the fleet. An English civilian with naval
training also joined.
On entering on their duties, these officers found the fleet honeycombed
with abuses requiring patient reform, but they set themselves to make
the best of things as they were, and to get the ships as quickly as
possible into action, as the thing most needful in order to brace up
officers and men. Von Hannecken urged unceasingly an offensive policy.
He would seek out the Japanese and attack them wherever found, fall on
their convoys, and generally assert the supremacy of China in Corean
waters, from the Yalu eastward. In particular he urged the occupation of
Ping-Yang inlet, so important for the support of the army which held the
city of that name, and, if necessary, to fight to the death for the
possession of a harbor at once so valuable and so easily defended. His
prescience was indicated in the sequel, but to all such suggestions
Admiral Ting replied with the imperial edict which forbade him to move
out of Chinese waters. The convoying service for which the fleet was
eventually told off in the middle of September was a sort of compromise,
which, without transgressing too flagrantly the imperial restrictions,
yet committed the fleet to an engagement on conditions not of its own
choosing.
The handling of the respective fleets showed the great superiority of
the Japanese professional training, and critics have commented on the
weakness of the Chinese manœuvring, but the first consideration was
to get the Chinese to fight at all. The government had satisfied itself
that without foreigners to lead them, the Chinese commanders would
rather lose their ships in trying to escape than stand up to the enemy.
The man, the only man available, who possessed the requisite qualities,
personal and professional, including a competent knowledge of Chinese,
happened to be a soldier, but he at least made the fleet fight, not as a
trained admiral would have done with a trained fleet, but in a manner to
inspire the Chinese with some confidence in themselves, in which till
then they were greatly lacking. That is perhaps the most important
result of the baptism of fire of the Chinese navy.
As regards the technical bearings of the action off the Yalu, the
Chinese admiral and captains adopted the formation which they said had
been taught them by Captain Lang as the most advantageous for attack.
But obviously a plan communicated four years ago by an officer whom
these same men had intrigued out of their navy, when he had taken it
through only half its course of training, could not be considered an
infallible weapon with which to meet the thoroughly efficient navy of
Japan.
The fight brought out several of the weak points of the Chinese naval
organization, and taught the officers many lessons. Most conspicuously
was the fatuous economy of ammunition exposed. The most formidable ships
for offense and defense were of course the two iron clads Ting-Yuen and
Chen-Yuen, with their twelve and one-half inch guns. These guns throw a
shell three and one-half calibres long, charged with forty pounds of
powder. It is a projectile of low initial velocity, but a most
destructive explosive, as the Japanese have testified. There were but
four of these shells in the fleet, all being on board the Chen-Yuen. Of
a smaller, and of course cheaper shell for the same guns two and
one-half calibres long, used for target practice, there were in all
fourteen in the two iron clads, and they were fired off in the first
hour and a half of the engagement, after which only steel shot was left
with which to continue the fight. From the condition of the flag ship
and her consort, may be inferred that of the other vessels in the fleet.
They were at once however, after the battle, well supplied with shell
except of the larger size.
The Chinese fleet was at a disadvantage in manœuvring from inferior
speed, but a greater difficulty even than that was the perversity of the
personnel. Even on board the flag ship orders were not carried out, but
varied or suppressed at the discretion of the officers. In telegraphing
from the conning tower to the engine room, the plans of the admiral were
frustrated, by the officer who moved the telegraph signalling a low
speed when the admiral was ordering a high speed, in order to close with
the enemy. This trick was only discovered after the battle, by comparing
notes with the German engineer who was below. How many other ways of
cheating the commanding officer were resorted to during those critical
hours, no one can tell. As for the other ships of the fleet, it is
acknowledged that after the first round they kept no formation, each
ship fighting her own battle, except the two ironclads with the foreign
officers on board, which kept moving in concert till the close. The
flagship lost all her signal halyards and a number of signal men in the
beginning of the action, and thereby lost touch with the rest of the
squadron.
[Illustration: JAPANESE CAVALRYMAN.]
From the capture of Ping-Yang, to the first of November, the progress of
the war attested the circumspection of the Japanese, who from first to
last resolved to risk nothing by land or sea. There was practically no
resistance, and the Chinese government was tolerably aware that there
would be none, either at the Yalu or at Feng-hwang-tcheng. What the
government reckoned on, if they can be said to have made any reckoning
at all, was that the forces assembled at Chiu-lien-tcheng would delay
the advance of the enemy till something turned up, or till the winter
should come to the aid of the invaded. Well, winter came, and lo it was
the Chinese and not the Japanese who were its first victims. Poor
General Sung, driven out of Kiu-lien-tcheng, and falling back on
Feng-hwang-tcheng, was followed up so sharp that, with the remnant of
his force, he had to retreat to the mountains, without extra clothing or
baggage. The cold set in, and snow was falling on these shivering
wretches, while the enemy was enjoying the comparative luxury of the
towns and villages.
By this time in the history of the war, it seemed certain that in such a
conflict as was to be anticipated, China would not entrust the ultimate
defense of the empire to such loose levies as had been in the field.
From the time of their organization, these troops under arms have
constituted a danger to the peace of China, whether in victory or
defeat, and perhaps there was a certain cynical calculation in the
release by the Japanese of prisoners, that they might swell the ranks of
brigands. It was believed by many friends of China that the dispersion
of these troops would make room for an army built up on a different
system, should the government be at last aroused to a sense of the
necessity for military reform.
[Illustration: PORT ARTHUR—TRANSPORTS ENTERING THE INNER HARBOR.]
Until this time, the government of China properly so called, had not
been able to bring its intelligence to bear on the question of imperial
defense. That had been left in the hands of the imperial viceroy Li Hung
Chang, who has for many years conducted the foreign as well as the naval
and military affairs of the empire. But during the fall the Peking
government was gradually gathering the reins into its own hands. The
return of Prince Kung to the counsels of the emperor was a marked
expression of the new resolution. The summoning of Von Hannecken by
imperial edict to Peking was another indication of the suspension of Li
Hung Chang’s function of general middleman between the empire and the
world. Whether this new born energy for affairs was to have staying
power sufficient to launch the government on the unknown sea of foreign
science, and save the empire from disruption was problematical, but the
war still raged on, and out of its immediate issues, it was predicted by
many, was to arise a state of thing which would mock the slow progress
of mere evolutionary reform, by a cataclysm which might do in one day
what a century of deliberation could not accomplish.
[Illustration: LIEUT. GEN. VISCOUNT NODZU.]
THE ADVANCE UPON PORT ARTHUR.
--------------
Landing of the Second Japanese Army at Kwa-yuen-ken—Capture of
Kinchow—Taking of Talien-wan—Flight of the Chinese to Port
Arthur—General Nodzu’s Force and its Action—Pekin Authorities
Despondent—Prince Kung Asks Foreign Intervention—Propositions for Peace
Fail—Contractors Want to Destroy Japanese Fleet—Foreigners in Chinese
Service—The Emperor Receives Visitors—Drawing Near to Port Arthur—People
of the Peninsula—Skirmishes on the Way—The Night Before the Battle.
The troops of the second Japanese army landed at a place called
Kwa-yuen-ken near the mouth of the Pili River, northeast of Talien-wan
Bay. From the mouth of the Pili to Kinchow, the principal town in the
peninsula, the distance is fifty-four miles. The debarkation was
completed without interruption, and the march southwestward began. The
capture of Kinchow, at the narrowest point in the Adams Isthmus, was
made without difficulty, and the victorious forces continued on their
way. November 7 the Japanese occupied Talien-wan. The more the captured
Chinese position here was examined, the greater became the astonishment
at the poor defense made. The defensive works were excellent in design.
Six large and strongly constructed forts commanded Talien-wan bay,
mounting all together eighty guns of various sizes and patterns. Many of
them were comparatively modern and excellent of their kind. All of these
guns, as well as large stores of ammunition, fell into the hands of the
Japanese.
Beside the forts on the bay, the Chinese had constructed across the
narrow neck of the peninsula, which was here about seven miles wide, a
series of earthworks of an elaborate kind. The whole system had
evidently been planned by an engineer of high skill. It was completely
fitted with telephones and other modern appliances for communication.
The works had been designed to facilitate a concentration of troops at
any threatened point in the shortest possible time. The batteries were
powerfully constructed and well armed. The greatest strength of the
forts on the bay was on the side facing the sea. Some successful
reconnoitering revealed weakness upon the land side. An intimation was
conveyed to Count Ito that the seaward forts were of such strength that
a bombardment from the Japanese fleet would assuredly result in serious
damage to some of the ships. Marshal Oyama informed his colleague that
he believed a land attack would be attended with success, and that idea
was therefore put into effect.
The Japanese fleet took a station off the bay, and opened a tremendous
bombardment of the forts on the 6th of November. For many hours the
firing scarcely ceased, and on the following day it was resumed. On the
7th, covered by the bombardment, the land force attacked Talien-wan at
daybreak by a general assault, and the success was complete. The
Chinese, taken by surprise, fled panic-stricken towards Port Arthur.
[Illustration: CHINESE EARTHWORKS.]
The losses in the capture of these two fortifications, Kinchow and
Talien-wan, were not great on either side. The Chinese garrison at the
former place consisted of one thousand infantry and one hundred cavalry.
They fled to Talien-wan, which was defended by three thousand infantry
and one hundred and eighty cavalry, and all together retreated thence
towards Port Arthur. On the Japanese side the losses were only ten
killed and wounded, and the losses of the Chinese, who offered
practically no resistance, were not much greater. As in previous
retreats, the Chinese threw away their arms in their flight, and reached
Port Arthur with nothing but the clothes they wore.
During these days of action by the force under Oyama, General Nodzu’s
troops had not been idle. Immediately after the capture of Chiu-lien,
the Japanese headquarters’ staff moved there from Wi-ju. Two columns
were sent after the fleeing Chinese. Colonel Sato moved upon An-tung,
which was taken without fighting. General Tachimi, with the first
division, moved upon Feng-hwang on October 27, and on the 31st the town
surrendered. No prisoners were taken by the Japanese. The orders were to
disarm and scatter the enemy wherever found, and this was done with
vigor. By Marshal Yamagata’s orders, the peaceable inhabitants were
treated with the utmost consideration. All food purchased was paid for
and laborers were paid for any extra help required. As a result the
Japanese camp was thronged with Chinese peasants offering produce, and
more Chinese laborers asked for work than could be engaged.
[Illustration: VIEW OF TALIEN-WAN BAY.]
The enemy divided in flight from Feng-hwang, some going to Mukden,
others to Hai-tcheng, and others to Taku-shan. Most of the generals fled
to Mukden. As the last fugitives left Feng-hwang it was set on fire, and
the flames wrecked the village before the Japanese could extinguish
them. Cold had set in among the Manchoorian hills by this time and some
snow had fallen. The victorious army therefore took pains to make itself
as comfortable as possible, advancing slowly, living off the country,
and driving all enemies before it.
In Peking at this time the authorities were busy attempting to devise
means of safety for their armies, and to provide for their own escape
from threatening danger. Li Hung Chang was deprived of all his
decorative honors. Liu Kunyi, viceroy of Nanking, was made viceroy of
Tien-tsin. Chang Chi Stung, viceroy of Wu-chang, was appointed viceroy
of Nanking. Hu Yuff, a judge of Kwang-hsi, and Captain Von Hannecken
were ordered to enlist and equip a force of troops after the German
model, as the nucleus of a new grand army of China. Finally Prince Kung
was appointed Chief Controller of Military Affairs, with Prince Chung to
assist him, thus further centralizing the power.
Another imperial edict gave executive effect to the sentence passed by
the military courts upon General Wei. It declared that by his withdrawal
from the battle of Ping-Yang he caused the defeat of the entire army.
Furthermore, he was adjudged guilty of embezzling public funds entrusted
to him for the specific purpose of paying his soldiers, and of gross
incompetence and violation of duty in that he permitted the troops with
whom he retreated to maltreat and rob the people along the line of
route, thereby lowering the national character. For these offenses
General Wei was degraded from military rank and deprived of all his
honors. It was also announced that Admiral Ting kept from the knowledge
of the throne many important matters connected with the naval battle of
the Yalu, and that while losing some ships and getting others crippled
he inflicted scarcely any damage upon the enemy. The admiral was
therefore deprived of all the honors recently bestowed upon him under a
misapprehension of the facts.
How despondent was the view of the situation held by the Chinese
authorities may be judged by the first action taken by Prince Kung after
his promotion. On Sunday, November 4, before the news of the Japanese
success at Talien-wan had reached the Chinese, owing to the cutting of
the telegraph wires, he invited the representatives all the powers to
assemble at the Tsung-li Yamen to hear what the Chinese government had
to say respecting the critical situation. At this audience Prince Kung
calmly avowed the complete impotence of his country to withstand the
Japanese attack, and appealed to the powers to intervene. He made an
appeal for their assistance in bringing about some agreement for the
termination of the war, indicating as a basis of negotiation a
willingness of China to abandon her claim to the suzerainty of Corea,
and to pay a war indemnity to Japan. This appeal was made formally and
officially, and marked for the first time the fact that China recognized
her utter defeat.
Having concluded his speech, Prince Kung handed to each minister a note
embodying his remarks. The ministers were favorably impressed, and they
applauded the frankness of China’s confession. They promised to support
her appeal to their respective governments, with a view to the
restoration of peace, and in order to avert the dangers threatening all
interested. Simultaneously with this action of Prince Kung, the Chinese
minister to Great Britain and France endeavored to enlist the assistance
of the foreign offices of those countries, but again the effort to
secure peace for China by the intervention of western nations met with
little encouragement.
A diplomatic complication arose between Japan and France early in
November which had an element of comedy in it and is of interest here.
Two American citizens, John Brown and George Howie, of British
extraction, offered their services to the Chinese government in the
capacity of torpedo experts. They claimed to be in possession of an
invention capable of most destructive effects in naval warfare, and
having succeeded in convincing a Chinese agent of the validity of their
claim, they were engaged to employ the invention against the Japanese
navy, in consideration of a payment of $100,000 down, $1,000,000 for
each naval squadron destroyed, and a proportion of the value of each
merchantman sent to the bottom. With their contract in their pocket,
they sailed from San Francisco, and at Yokahama transferred themselves
to the French steamer Sydney. Meanwhile the Japanese authorities, having
obtained intelligence of the two men’s proceedings, telegraphed
instructions to Kobe, and in that port the alleged inventors were taken
off the ship, together with their Chinese companions. The French
minister inclined to push the case in their favor, but diplomacy and
international law was so clearly on the side of the Japanese that he
withdrew his efforts. After their arrest however, the two men signed a
stringent guarantee binding themselves not to assist the Chinese during
the present war, and this with the representation of the American
minister secured their release.
The Japanese forces occupying Talien-wan used their time to advantage in
strengthening their positions, completing the telegraph line along the
north shore of Corea Bay, to a junction with the line which had already
been built across the Yalu River from Corea, and in preparing for their
investment of Port Arthur. Admiral Ito’s sailors and marines destroyed
all the torpedoes placed by the enemy in the bay and its approaches.
They also captured several torpedo boats and apparatus. The fleet and
the transports all entered the bay, and there remained to act in harmony
with the land forces. A few days after the occupation of Talien-wan, the
advance column of the first Japanese army, pursuing from Feng-hwang that
portion of the divided fugitive Chinese who were seeking Port Arthur,
met the outposts of the second invading army, and communication was
thereby established, both by telegraph and by messenger service, through
Japanese garrisons, in a chain extending the full length of the Corean
peninsula and around Corea Bay to Talien-wan.
Consternation was caused in Peking by the discovery, which one would
have supposed not difficult, that the Pei-yang squadron was caught in a
trap at Port Arthur. Li Hung Chang had made efforts to bring all the
damaged war ships out of that harbor, ordering the squadron to keep
within range of the guns of Wei-hai-wei. But on account of somebody’s
violation of orders, a dozen Chinese vessels of war were now within the
Port Arthur harbor, hemmed in by the neighboring Japanese fleet. The
responsible Chinese officials appeared to be callous to the fate of the
empire, giving their chief attention to matters of personal interest and
gain.
[Illustration: PORT ARTHUR—JAPANESE COOLIES REMOVING CHINESE DEAD.]
Port Arthur was now effectively invested and threatened, and to provide
for their personal safety, Kung, the taotai of the place, together with
several military leaders, abandoned Port Arthur as hastily as possible.
The effort made by one Englishman, anxious to preserve some Chinese
dignity, to save Port Arthur, was received with considerable surprise
and not by any means appreciated.
The position of foreigners in the employ of the Chinese government has
always been anomalous, but the exigencies of the war have shown up the
relationship between Chinese and foreigners in a vivid and highly
instructive light. Their rooted aversion to foreigners, which springs
from fear, does not withhold the Chinese from flying to seek foreign aid
in their extremity. On these occasions they betray a superstitious
feeling towards the foreigners, regarding him as a sort of medicine man
who can see through a millstone or work any other miracle. Their idea is
to hire him by the job, and when the job is done cast him off as any
other laborer. When war came upon them, the Chinese fleet was in a
quandary, scuttling about from one snug harbor to another, the officers
knowing nothing of their enemy, his movements, or his capacities. Though
they were told they had the strongest fleet, they would have preferred
not to put its presumed superiority to too severe a test, yet they had
the imperial order to destroy the enemy unconditionally. In this
extremity, the authorities cast about for extemporized foreigners to
help them.
A hardy Scandinavian came first to the rescue, offering to scout, pilot,
or fight for them, run a torpedo boat, or do anything that youthful
daring might legitimately venture. Only he stipulated for a twenty-knot
steamer, performing, however, in the meantime, the emergency service in
a common tugboat of less than half that speed. The promise of a fast
steamer was broken, as every promise of every Chinese official, with few
exceptions, from the beginning of time has been broken, and until the
end of the war the hardy Norseman had to content himself on the deck of
that same wet and lively tugboat. Comical indeed were the adventures he
had with his convoys of troops, munitions, and stores, which never would
follow the program laid down for them, sometimes bolting from the smoke
of their own escort, and he chasing them back into their own ports whose
forts would open fire on him. This was the uniform experience of
Europeans who served the Chinese. The zeal and loyalty were all on the
side of the aliens, whose hearts were broken in hopeless efforts to make
the Chinese do their duty to their own country. Every foreigner who
served China, no matter in what capacity, unless he belonged to the
class which is content to draw pay and say nothing, had the same
strenuous battle with his employers to compel them to interest
themselves in their own service. The Chinese, on their part, failed to
comprehend the folly of the foreigner who was not content to draw his
pay and keep quiet.
At Port Arthur there were some half dozen rival generals, but no one in
command, each caring only for his own camp, and all at loggerheads with
the others. The head of the port, the poor taotai, of the literary
graduate order, was a brother of the present minister to England. There
was also the admiral of the Pei-yang squadron, the most likely man to
assume the responsibility of a general command; but for fear of getting
himself disliked by Taotai Kung or the generals, he kept his hands out
of mischief. Finally, the English harbor master at Port Arthur went to
Tien-tsin, and showed the condition of affairs to the viceroy. The
result was that the viceroy sent instructions to Kung, which the latter
ignored, flying from Port Arthur at the first chance. The collapse of
Chinese resistance was proceeding at a rate which more than astonished
the Japanese themselves. With Kinchow and Talien-wan captured almost
without a blow, although amply supplied with the means of making a
vigorous and protracted defense, and all the soldiers joining in an
ignominious rush for Port Arthur, it seemed that the Chinese were
exhibiting all that reluctance to make trouble which characterized
Crockett’s famous 'coon, demonstrating their willingness to come down to
any required extent if Marshal Oyama would only consent not to shoot.
The force under Yamagata, advancing from Feng-hwang in two divisions,
one towards Port Arthur and one on the road to Mukden, met no resistance
that was strong enough to intercept their advance, although there was
some fighting at two or three stands. The right division advanced
northwestward and entered the Manchoorian highlands by the Mo-thien-ling
pass where a force was gathered to oppose it. The left division marched
towards Siu-Yen where another Chinese force was encamped. It was the
outpost of this division, pursuing the Chinese fugitives through
Taku-shan, which made junction with the second army and completed the
chain of communication.
On the 9th of November the Japanese advanced and attacked Namquan pass,
a strongly fortified neck between Society Bay and Talien-wan. There was
no concerted defense, and each Chinese detachment was separately routed.
Some thousands of refugees from Kinchow, who were flying towards
villages in the vicinity, were mistaken for the enemy and were fired
upon from the rear of the defenses, many being killed.
Again the Chinese authorities in Peking decided to seek peace through
the influence and intervention of western powers between herself and
Japan. On the morning of November 15 the emperor gave an audience to the
diplomatic representatives in Peking, and all the ministers were
present. His Majesty’s action in thus receiving the diplomatists caused
considerable stir in high Chinese circles, such a violation was it of
imperial Chinese etiquette. This audience was granted on the occasion of
the presentation of letters of congratulation by the ministers, on the
sixtieth birthday of the dowager empress. For the first time in Chinese
history the audience was held in the imperial palace itself. As an
especial mark of courtesy the foreign ministers entered by the central
gate, the gate through which the emperor only is usually allowed to
pass.
The ministers had audience with the emperor separately, and the
reception was of a distinctly formal character, lasting but a few
minutes. The audience took place in the hall where His Majesty was
accustomed to hear the Confucian classics expounded. He was seated
cross-legged on the Dragon Throne, surrounded by a numerous body of
princes and officials. In front of His Majesty was placed a small table
covered with yellow satin, which concealed the lower half of his person.
In the short interviews with each minister, who stood some ten feet from
His Majesty, Prince Kung and Prince Ching acted alternately as masters
of the ceremonies, and interpreted the speeches. The emperor spoke
entirely in the Manchoo tongue. He appeared small and delicate,
possessing a fine forehead, with expressive brown eyes, and an
intellectual countenance. The emperor’s position, surrounded as he was
by the dignitaries of his court, gave him an imposing appearance,
although to a close observer he looked and spoke like a lad of sixteen
or seventeen years. His Majesty did not indulge in any social
conversation with the visitors, but spoke formally to all. The interview
was granted in the hope that western sympathy would be secured for the
threatened orientals.
Now that the approach to Port Arthur has brought the Japanese army
almost to the walls, let us take a brief retrospect of the operations of
the month. On the 24th of October the debarkation of the second army on
the Liao-Tung peninsula began, to the northwest of the Elliot islands,
at Kwa-yuen. No opposition of any kind was encountered, but natural
difficulties such as shallow beaches and great range of tides impeded
the operation, so that all the stores were not landed until the evening
of the 30th. The troops however were put in motion at once, and on
October 28th the advance guard reached Pitszwo, a place of some
importance at the junction of the Niuchwang, Port Arthur, and Taku-shan
road. This place was twenty-five miles from the port of debarkation.
Forty-five miles farther southwest, the troops came upon Kinchow, at the
point where the two post roads of the peninsula met. On November 6 the
Japanese captured this town without difficulty, and the next day Field
Marshal Oyama’s troops, pressing close on the heels of the flying enemy,
reached the formidable isthmus a couple of hours after them, and to the
accompaniment of a thunderous bombardment from the fleet, seized the
defenses without a struggle. After such a singular display of blundering
and cowardice on the part of the Chinese, what followed was not
astonishing. The troops passing the isthmus, found themselves on the
shore of Talien-wan Bay, one of the best harbors in North China. Ample
preparations for defense had indeed been made, but they were not
utilized by the cowardly soldiers. The Japanese themselves were taken by
surprise. They had not contemplated such a fiasco.
Meanwhile the army had continued its march towards Port Arthur. Their
line of communication to the rear, both by land and sea, was perfect.
The commissariat was in the best condition for service. The hospital
corps was active and modern in its manner of work. Nurses of the Red
Cross Society, both men and women, accompanied the army and were
provided with everything in the power of the commander to grant, being
shown every courtesy. On the other hand, efforts made by hospital corps
to reach the Chinese wounded from the Chinese side of the lines, met
with utter failure. Two Red Cross nurses were turned back by the Chinese
authorities at Tien-tsin, they declining to be responsible for the
safety of non-combatants. The Taotai Sheng said, “We do not want to save
our wounded. A Chinaman cheerfully accepts the fates that befall him.”
More than a fortnight had Marshal Oyama’s army been marching in two
divisions, eastern and western, down the peninsula to Port Arthur. The
distance was less than fifty miles, but the country was a difficult one,
there being practically no roads available except in the cultivated
valleys. As the army approached the objective point, there were
occasional brushes with the enemy. At Ye-jo-shu on November 18, the army
was more than half way from Kinchow to Port Arthur, and almost within
sight of the goal. The next day’s march was expected to bring the forces
to camp on the safe side of the hills, within an hour’s ride of Port
Arthur, unless the Chinese should prevent. The next day was to be
devoted to rest and to making sure that everything was properly arranged
and ready for the fray; and it was confidently asserted that on the
evening of the day after, November 21, the Japanese army would sleep
peacefully in Port Arthur with Dragon Flags for bed quilts.
On the morning of the 18th the Chinese made a reconnoissance in force,
but retired without discovering much except a Japanese scouting party,
which had a narrow escape. The army was moving along steadily with
General Nishi leading the vanguard, General Yamaji, his staff, and the
war correspondents all with the main body, and General Nogi bringing up
the rear. The field marshal and his staff were also behind, and General
Hasegawa was on the left wing, with his forces practically covering the
country down to the south coast. In front and on the right as far as the
not very distant north coast, small bodies of cavalry and infantry were
thrown out along the valleys. The country was magnificent for defensive
purposes, studded with moderately steep hills, ranging from low
undulations up to huge crags two thousand feet high, with hundreds of
rocky ravines and gulleys; broad fertile valleys never very level,
intersected by winding water courses, like a labyrinth, almost dry at
this season.
Every two or three miles there were small villages roughly built of
stone, nestling in hollows, with a few trees here and there. In and
about the villages scores of natives crowded, curious to see the
foreigners they feared; on the hilltops were the more timorous ones,
watching awhile and then hurrying away perhaps to tell the Chinese army
what they had seen, but no attempt was ever made to stop them, except
occasionally to ask a question or two. The road was the military road
connecting Port Arthur with Kinchow, Niuchwang and Peking. There was not
the least sign of anything having been done to keep it in repair since
it was first cut a quarter of a century ago, the soft parts were deep
rutted, and would be well-nigh impassable after heavy rain, while the
rocky parts were jagged and strewn with stones of all sizes and shapes.
Over the plains dust drove in black clouds which enveloped the column,
suggesting the great dust storms of North China. There was bright sunny
weather, but the nights were cold during the march down the peninsula.
The day’s march which had begun at seven in the morning, was to end at
Ye-jo-shu, a big village near the sea, about ten miles northeast of Port
Arthur. Before entering the village General Yamaji was met by an
aid-de-camp with news of fighting ahead, half way to Port Arthur. After
a little hesitation the general granted the request of two of the
correspondents to permit them to go forward, and they galloped off to
the left in a southwesterly direction. Five miles away, among the
hilltops, they caught a glimpse of a small, square, stone building, like
a fort or watchtower, and all around it could be discerned figures
moving amidst clouds of smoke. The road was lined many yards on either
side with men and animals, all racing in the same direction, spurting to
be first at a ford or a narrow defile, urging and helping each other,
and only afraid the enemy might retire too soon.
[Illustration: JAPANESE SKIRMISHERS BEFORE PORT ARTHUR.]
It was an hour after midday, and Nishi’s force had just begun to pitch
camp south of Ye-jo-shu, when a courier arrived and announced that the
outer pickets were being forced and cut off. Firing had begun at eleven
o’clock, but did not become serious until an hour later. Cavalry were
rushed to the front, then infantry, then artillery and ammunition trains
as they could be mustered and got away. The correspondents galloped hard
where the land allowed, past soldiers looking to their rifles and
pouches as they ran, past lumbering guns and kicking mules, past panting
coolies and Red Cross men, threading their way through the throng,
cheering the wounded as they were taken to the rear, smiling bravely in
spite of pain. Progress was delayed in the narrow lanes of a picturesque
village, in a little wooded hollow where the artillery stuck in a broad,
shallow stream. But by eager efforts it was got clear, and went on
scrambling up the bank, splashing and stumbling through half dried
ditches, plunging in the soft sand, and bumping over boulders, sparing
neither man nor beast in the rush up the glen to the top of the hill.
There stood Brigadier-General Nishi, watching a “strategic rearward”
movement of the Chinese in the plain beyond, and directing operations
intended to cut them off if possible. Two strong columns were pushed out
right and left, like the horns of a crescent among the hills encircling
the valley, towards the sea northwest and Port Arthur southwest. The
artillery was already on the spot, but was not used yet; there was no
need to let the Chinese know how much strength was massing before Port
Arthur.
The engagement originated simply in a surprise meeting of opposing
scouts. The Chinese had been creeping all over the valley and
surrounding hills, along the ravines and behind the ridges; Japanese had
been striking out in twos and threes, reconnoitering many miles into the
enemy’s country. Suddenly shots were heard, and a general move was made
on both sides for the main road in the center. The Japanese seeing no
great force in front, and knowing how quickly help could be brought from
behind them, stood their ground at first. About noon however three
strong columns of Chinese with cavalry and artillery, probably three
thousand in all, filed out through the hills from main roads and
by-paths leading from Port Arthur. The Japanese were in great danger of
being surrounded before the advance guard could arrive. Only a score of
cavalry and about two hundred infantry, they had to fight their way back
at pretty close quarters, hand to hand at one point. The Chinese
advanced with an immense display of banners almost to the foot of the
hill where Nishi stood; but the small force of three hundred Japanese
cavalry sent out to draw them on, seemed to scare them off, for by half
past one they were in full retreat, in good order, over the same paths
by which they had come, only just in time to escape the consummation of
the Japanese flank movements. It was no use trying to pursue them into
the hills about Port Arthur; for as the full force of Nishi’s brigade
was collecting about the old stone monument the Chinese army was
disappearing through the passes six miles away.
[Illustration: RETREAT OF CHINESE SOLDIERS AFTER THE FALL OF PORT
ARTHUR.]
A cavalry patrol of seven went forward and followed cautiously along the
main road until dusk, turning back at a village just under the hills.
They saw the bodies of the seven Japanese who had been left dead on the
field, hacked, stripped, beheaded, and in two cases minus the right
hand; they saw the cavalryman’s horse lying partly flayed with the skin
turned back where two large pieces of flesh had been carved out and
carried away. They saw traces of the Chinese every few yards, but no
bodies; they must have been removed, for the men of Satsuma had not died
for nothing. They saw no signs of life except the patrols and men with
stretchers for the dead, as they rode back slowly into camp at
Ye-jo-shu, over ten miles of wretched roads, the horses nearly dead with
the fatigue of a long day’s work, stumbling at every step, and finally
having to be left with the coolies while the riders walked most of the
way. These coolies were simply wonderful in their endurance; after the
helter-skelter race for the monument they came up smiling only a few
minutes behind, in spite of their forty pound pack on their shoulders.
[Illustration: JAPANESE SOLDIERS REMOVING DEAD BODIES.]
The advance was slow during the 19th and 20th, the desire being to give
the soldiers as much rest as possible before the hard work of the
assault. On arriving at Dojoshu, a village at the foot of the hills near
Port Arthur, about noon on the 20th, the troops were halted. Oyama had
gone around to survey the field, and was expected back every minute, so
the time of waiting was passed in a hurried midday meal. Suddenly the
boom of heavy guns was heard, and the Chinese were seen advancing in two
columns, the right one by Suishiyeh, under the eyes of the troops who
held the hill where the army had halted, and the left by way of the west
side of the valley, out of sight behind the foot hills. They had at last
learned that the invading armies had almost surrounded them, and must be
dislodged if possible. But it was not possible now. It was too late.
As soon as the advancing left column got within a mile, a portion of the
Japanese artillery opened with shrapnel. The forts replied as soon as
the positions were revealed. About 3:00 o’clock the Chinese column got
within short range of the Japanese batteries, and was struck fairly in
the center by the first two shells. The foolish banners dropped at once,
and the column lay down. Bravely the line was reformed twice, but the
shelling was too hot and too accurate. The Chinese got their field guns
into position but could do nothing for practically none of the Japanese
were exposed to them or to the forts. There was a little musketry fire
on both sides, but of no importance. The artillery settled the affair,
and by 5:00 o’clock the whole of the Chinese army had marched back into
camp. The forts away on the sea-front got into action before dusk, and
dropped a few 12-inch shells uselessly on the hilltops a mile beyond the
Japanese; but when the last streak of daylight had disappeared, all was
quiet. During the rest of the night there was no sound nor sign on
either side.
THE CAPTURE OF PORT ARTHUR AND THE MASSACRE.
--------------
Description of the Great Chinese Naval Station—Strength of its
position—The Defenses—Arrangement of Japanese Troops, and Plan of
Attack—The First Assault—Attack and Counter-Attack—Fall of the Chinese
Forts—Action of the Fleet—The Japanese in the Streets of Port
Arthur—Massacre of Fugitives—Japanese Red Cross Society and Its Previous
Good Work—Shocking Details of the Atrocities Committed After the Taking
of the Town—Four Days of Violence and Cruelty—Stories of
Eyewitnesses—Japanese Explanations and Excuses—Effects of the Capture of
Port Arthur on the War.
Port Arthur, or to give it its native name, Lu-shun-kou, was the largest
naval station possessed by the Chinese. Situated at the extreme southern
end of the Liao-Tung peninsula, Port Arthur in its earlier days afforded
convenient shelter for winter-bound junks employed in carrying timber
from the Yalu River to the ports westward. At that period it was merely
a small village consisting of less than one hundred mud houses, an
occasional shop, and three or four inns. The prosperity of the town
began with the determination of the authorities in 1881 to establish a
naval dockyard at the port. At first the work was entrusted to native
contractors, who however proved to be quite incapable of carrying out so
extended an undertaking, and in 1887 a French company took up the
contract, completing the work in three years. The port then boasted of a
large basin with a depth of twenty-five feet at low water. Spacious
wharves and quays bordered this basin, and were connected with the
workshops by a railroad. Two dry-docks were built ready for repairing
ships of all sizes, from iron clads to torpedo vessels. Foundries and
workshops were constructed on the most improved models, and containing
the best modern machinery. The fact that the harbor was always free from
ice, even in the coldest of winter, added to its value. By the time of
the beginning of the war, the number of houses had multiplied until they
were able to contain a population of about six thousand, exclusive of
the garrison. There were also two large temples, two theatres, and
several banks, besides the necessary stores and warehouses.
Such land defenses as this important dockyard possessed when the war
broke out, were limited to nine small redoubts, connected by mud walls
in some cases, on the north and northeast, and three redoubts on the
southwest. On the north side a range of hills from three hundred and
fifty to six hundred and fifty feet high, running from the sea to a
shallow inlet of the harbor, enclosed the position. The tops of these
hills were not more than two thousand five hundred yards from the
dockyard and town. The original line of defenses was still closer to the
town, and on the northern side was only about one thousand yards in
advance of the vital point. The strongest part of the position was a
group of three coast batteries surrounded by a continuous mud wall, and
crowning a hill on the right of the entrance to the harbor. The works
all appeared to be designed for the protection of the narrow harbor
mouth, which at the entrance was only a few hundred yards wide.
Upon the outbreak of the war, much additional fortification was carried
out. The normal garrison of four thousand was greatly increased, and the
troops who were drilled on the European model garrisoned the
fortifications, and were to be further assisted in the defense of the
port by submarine mines and a fleet of torpedo boats. The forts were
armed with heavy Krupp guns, and the artillery men were especially
trained by a German officer. Within the defenses there were all of the
most recent scientific appliances, electric search lights, torpedo
factories, etc., and the forts were connected by telephone.
The Japanese army broke camp at Dojoshu village before Port Arthur at
1:00 A.M. on November 21, and marching by circuitous and very difficult
routes over the outlying hills, sometimes quite close to the sea at
Pigeon Bay, got into line of battle before daylight. The moon was in the
last quarter, and gave very little light; the sky was quite clear, and
the weather dry and cool. The positions were as heretofore described.
The key of the position was the northwest triple fort on Table Mountain,
and there the whole weight of the opening attack was concentrated. The
field marshal and his staff were mostly near the center of the line, and
the heavy siege artillery was planted on the best position available
near the center, and north to northeast of Port Arthur, five or six
miles away, with Suishiyeh and the forts right opposite and well in
range. The first division under General Yamaji occupied the right wing,
and had the roughest and most broken country to traverse. Nine batteries
of field and mountain guns were got into fine positions, on lofty
ridges, nearly on the same level and almost within rifle shot of the
forts; while behind the artillery lay large bodies of infantry ready for
a rush. Brigadier-General Nishi had charge of the extreme right, and
Brigadier-General Nogi the right center, near the field marshal. On the
left, Brigadier-General Hasegawa had his mixed brigade rather wider
apart, as the hills were not near enough to aid greatly in an assault on
the forts; nor were the hills very good as artillery positions. Hasegawa
had only two batteries, but the flying column under Lieutenant-Colonel
Masamitsu, that had moved from San-ju-li Ho on the south shore road was
with him, and had a mountain battery beside two battalions of infantry
and a thousand cavalry.
The first shot was fired within two or three minutes of seven o’clock,
from a battery of thirty guns, just as the day was becoming light enough
for gun practice. Then for an hour the Japanese guns blazed into the
Table-Top forts, which with their guns of all sizes kept up a spirited
reply. In the forts, and in the rifle pits on the hillside under the
walls, were about one thousand infantry; near the Japanese batteries
trenches had been dug in the stony ground during the night, and
sheltered ravines had been carefully selected, where practically the
whole of the first division, at least ten thousand men, lay in wait. The
Chinese shells came close by their ears in dozens, bursting or burying
themselves on the other side of the little ravine behind. Many of the
boulders about were struck, but strange to say not a man was killed. In
the first half hour there must have been three hundred shells over an
area of as many yards, but the average elevation was slightly too high,
and no damage was done.
Meantime the Japanese were getting to work all along the line. Each
battery had a telescope fixed to bear on the desired target, though the
dense morning mist and the thick clouds of smoke frequently made it
quite impossible to see for a time. It was easy enough to tell that the
Japanese had got the reins from the very first. The opening shot of the
day, which all watched with intense interest, had struck within five
yards short of a Krupp gun in the nearest of the three forts. The
closeness of this shot, in semi-darkness, at an unknown range estimated
to be one thousand yards, was a fair indication of what followed. One by
one the Chinese guns ceased fire towards eight o’clock, and suddenly a
great shouting came across the valley from the fort. The Japanese
infantry were singing a march song as they charged the forts, and in a
few minutes a huge cheer ran all along the line over the hilltops and In
the valleys where the rest of the Japanese were, and great cries of
“Kot-ta—Victory!” The Chinese emptied their guns and small arms as the
Japanese swarmed up on three sides, firing every few yards and then
rushing forward. The enemy, not numerous enough for hand-to-hand combat,
waited no longer but fled over the edge of the hill, down to the
fortified camps before the town, and the Table Mountain forts displayed
the flag of the Rising Sun.
After this first success, the rest of the battle was practically little
more than a question of time, although there was still a great deal of
hard fighting to follow. Neither side had yet lost more than fifty or
sixty in killed and wounded, and there were still many thousand Chinese
soldiers to be considered. Had the forts been fully manned with plenty
of picked marksmen, they should have cost the invaders several hundreds
if not thousands and should have held out longer. And if the Chinese
artillery had been as accurate and steady as the Japanese, the vast
difference in position and shelter should have more than compensated for
the disparity in numbers. Careful planning, rapidity of attack, and
individual bravery were all on the Japanese side. The Chinese did not,
indeed, run at the sound of shooting, as has been said. They stood their
ground manfully and tried their best to shoot straight up to the last
minute; but they never attempted to face the foe hand to hand to “Die in
the last ditch.”
Only one definite counter-attack was made; a large force, probably near
two thousand of Chinese infantry with a few cavalry, marched out around
the hills westward, north of the Port Arthur lagoon, to turn the
Japanese right flank. General Yamaji, who never showed fatigue all day
but kept near the front calmly and resolutely at every move, detected
the attempt at once, and dispatched Brigadier-General Nishi with the
third regiment and the mountain battery to meet it. The extremely rough,
broken country rendered movement slow, and this part of the battle
dragged on until the afternoon.
[Illustration: JAPANESE ATTACK ON PORT ARTHUR.]
The second regiment had occupied the Isusen forts shortly after eight
o’clock, and the artillery was then ordered forward. The guns had come
on late from Talien-wan, by forced marches night and day, over a very
difficult route, and only arrived at Dojoshu on the night of the 20th,
after the enemy’s attempt to dislodge the field and mountain guns. The
same night twenty of these large guns had been taken into position for
the fight north and west of Suishiyeh, and from one to three kilometers
from the nearest forts. They were supported by the whole of the first
division, fifteen thousand men less twenty-four hundred men detailed to
garrison Kinchow and Talien-wan. Deducting also the regiment of
twenty-four hundred sent to head off the flank movement in the west,
there were ten thousand left before the Table Mountain forts. Not more
than a third actually took part in the storming. The rest were waiting
ready for use if needed, all along the line from the advance guard under
Nishi, near the lagoon, to the center under Nogi, about Peh-ka-shu
village, where the skirmish was on the 19th. Here, midway between the
camp at Dojoshu and the large village of Suishiyeh, Field Marshal Oyama
and his staff remained during the first part of the day, communicating
his orders by aides-de-camp, never by flag, or flash signal, or bugle,
to Yemaji and Hasegawa on the left.
Peh-ka-shu was about a kilometer north of Suishiyeh, and Suishiyeh about
five kilometers north of Port Arthur town, and one kilometer from Table
Mountain fort on the east, and Pine Tree fort on the west. About half
way between Peh-ka-shu and the sea, southeastward, was So-tai-shu where
Hasegawa faced the line of eight forts along a wall of five or six
kilometers. Of course this brigade did not cover all the country; he had
about five thousand men near the center and two thousand near the sea.
The five thousand were about equally divided between Shoju and Niryo,
each one regiment of two thousand four hundred with artillery. In
attacking, two battalions of eight hundred each formed the front, and
one was held behind until within range. Then the whole opened out in
skirmishing order and charged, and the Chinese exploded several mines,
but without effect, as the fuses were not well timed. Some electric
mines were also used but wrongly timed.
[Illustration:
THE ATTACK ON KINCHOW.
Japanese Drawing.
]
While Yamaji was attacking the northwest forts, Hasegawa engaged the
attention of the northeast forts, in order to prevent them from
concentrating fire on the Japanese right. No serious attack was made by
the mixed brigade until the first division had made the winning move.
Thus the Chinese right wasted their energy on almost bare country, while
the weight of the Japanese attack fell on the almost entirely isolated
Chinese left. The strategy succeeded completely, for by the time the
Chinese discovered their mistake it was too late. The Shoju, or Pine
Tree Hill forts opened a heavy fire across Suishiyeh plain, on the hills
occupied by the Japanese; but Isu was already finished and the whole
weight of Japanese artillery was centered on the largest Shoju fort.
Thus the Japanese right wing, which had been briefly threatened by the
forts on its left and the Chinese column on its right, was never really
in any danger, for while the third regiment under Nishi was storming
Isu, the second regiment with its back to the third beat off the enemy’s
infantry, and the mountain, field, and siege batteries gave Shoju far
more than it could face.
It was surprising how the Chinese stood to their guns; they worked like
heroes and aimed their guns well. But what could a fort or a half-dozen
of forts do, against fifty guns hidden in the mountains, moving to get
better positions when possible, and firing systematically and
simultaneously at one point.
A furious fusillade was maintained by both sides for nearly two hours;
but the Chinese shots got wilder and wilder as the Japanese improved,
until finally the Shoju magazine blew up and set fire to the sheds
inside of the forts. Then shortly after eleven o’clock, Hasegawa charged
all along the line, and took all the eight forts one by one. The big
Shoju fort, which had done such determined work was, of course,
evacuated as soon as it caught fire, and for two hours afterward the
ruined wood-work burned and the piles of ammunition continued to
explode. The second largest fort, Liang Leong, or Double Dragon, held
out longest. Twice the Japanese advancing along a ravine tried to break
cover and rush up the hill, but were met by bombs from the mortars, and
had to get back into shelter and try musketry again. Again they came up
magnificently at their officers’ call, and scrambled up the mountain
side in the teeth of a galling cross fire. At the ramparts, not a
Chinaman remained. They fled from fort to fort along the high wall,
firing as they went, and making a stand at every point till too close
for rifles. All over the hills they were chased and for many miles
around hardly a hundred yards could be passed without sight of a Chinese
corpse. Those who escaped got down into the town with the main body of
the Chinese army.
Meanwhile there had been heavy firing, chiefly infantry, between
Suishiyeh, Isu and Port Arthur. There was a flat tract about three miles
square, with low ridges of mud and stones across, behind which the
Chines riflemen lay. They had tried to make a stand about the walled
camps below Isu, but shells and shrapnel soon cleared them out. The
Japanese then mustered in the same place about two thousand men from the
right wing and right center, increasing in number every minute, and
ready to force the town itself. Between these camps and the big drill
ground at the entrance to Port Arthur were some three thousand Chinese
in skirmishing order, making the most of every bit of cover and firing
desperately. Behind them the Chinese field guns, some dozen in number,
tried to locate the enemy and occasionally succeeded; one shell
shattered the corner of the largest camp, where a dense body of Japanese
stood behind the wall waiting for orders, and killed several of them.
Still farther back, a big hill which threatened the town swarmed with
riflemen, who were sheltered by piles of stones and abundantly supplied
with ammunition. Last of all the shore forts were firing a little, but
could not aid much in the melee.
Steadily the Japanese crept forward from cover to cover, assisted by
artillery from Suishiyeh, until the parade ground and the general’s
pavilion overlooking it had been mastered and cleared, and nothing
remained but the trenches of Boulder hill, or Hakugoku, the town itself,
and the shore forts. Along the south of the parade ground ran a broad,
shallow stream that came down the Suishiyeh valley, flowing into a creek
west of Hakugoku. Three times the Japanese came out from behind the
parade ground wall, to cross the bridge, but were driven back by a
withering hail of bullets. At last they forced it and rushed across with
a cheer, and spread out over the face of the hill pursuing the Chinese
up to the town itself. The Second Regiment fired volleys as it advanced
to the town. Not a shot was fired in reply. The battle was over as far
as Port Arthur was concerned.
The Japanese fleet was not inactive during the assault by the land
forces. At 10:30 A.M. the Japanese vessels, comprising the Matsusima,
Chiyoda, Itsukusima, Hasidate, Yoshino, Naniwa, Akitsushima, Takachiho,
Fuso, Hiyei, and Kongo steamed past Port Arthur, rounding the
promontory. The Chiyoda here began to fire shells over the forts at a
very long range. A tugboat from Taku was searched by the Japanese, but
was allowed to proceed. At 4:00 o’clock the fleet returned, passing Port
Arthur again, at a distance of about six miles, and one of the big forts
fired at the Chiyoda but failed to hit her. The admiral did not respond
to the fire nor alter his course but steamed slowly on. A few minutes
later, as the Chinese troops were hurrying down to the harbor, ten
torpedo boats dashed from the fleet, separating in pairs and firing
three-pounder Hotchkiss guns at the exposed soldiers. The fire was
briskly responded to by one fort to the left of the harbor, but not a
single shot told. A steamer which had towed a junk out of Port Arthur
with Taotai Kung in it, making his escape, was cut off on her return and
ran ashore, where the crew deserted her and took to the hills.
[Illustration: PORT ARTHUR FROM THE BAY.]
As the Japanese troops reached the edge of the town, driving the Chinese
before them, a halt was called before the army marched in, as the force
was not yet assembled in strength. This delay enabled the Chinese to
take to boats, and scores of sampans and junks were soon moving off,
some over the lagoon to the mountain fastnesses of Lao-tieh-shan
promontory in the southwest, and some out to sea, in full view of the
Japanese fleet. When the first division was all assembled before the
town, with the left wing to the northeast in case the enemy should rally
and try to dash out, the order was given to enter the town and storm the
inner fort, Golden Hill. The Second Regiment led, firing volleys file by
file through the streets, past the docks, and the burning army stores,
up the hill, and into Ogunsan, which was practically abandoned without
an effort at defense.
During the evening Hasegawa’s brigade went over the hills, and occupied
the two eastern shore forts called the “Mule’s Jaws.” The following
morning Yamaji’s first regiment marched around the lagoon and occupied
the peninsula forts, which had been deserted during the night. Where the
Chinese all vanished to, appeared rather a mystery to the victors. It
was found that most of them got away along the beach past Hasegawa, and
the rest westward in small parties under cover of darkness. In such a
wide stretch of hilly country, it was easy for them to conceal
themselves if they once escaped the vicinity of their foes. Port Arthur
was in full possession of Marshal Oyama, with the fleet under Admiral
Ito safe in the harbor.
Now comes the most painful recital of the war. It is difficult to
reconcile in any one’s mind the pretensions to enlightened civilization
which the Japanese had claimed, with the horrible atrocities committed
by the victorious army during the days following the capture of Port
Arthur. Let us glance at what had been the history of Japanese treatment
of the wounded in previous battles.
It will be remembered that in a foregoing chapter of this work, the
proclamation of the Japanese minister of war enjoining humanity upon all
his soldiers was quoted, and that it was stipulated that the ignorance
of the Chinese as to the true meaning of humanity would cause them to
commit atrocities no doubt, which must not be imitated in retaliation by
Japanese troops. At Hiroshima, the military headquarters of Japan during
the war, was the principal military hospital and the establishment of
the Red Cross society, which to investigators were a remarkable
revelation after all that had been said about Japanese inhumanity and
indifference to suffering. As long ago as 1877, when the Satsuma clan
raised the standard of rebellion, a benevolent society was founded to
aid and care for the sick and wounded, enemies as well as friends, after
the manner of the European Red Cross societies. Subscriptions at once
began to pour in, the emperor and empress helping greatly, and
throughout the Satsuma war the young organization distinguished itself
admirably. From that time special efforts were made to bring the society
up to the high standard of its western models in every way; and when the
government of Japan in 1886 declared its adhesion to the Geneva
convention, the “Hakuaisha” was reorganized and formally enrolled on the
international list of Red Cross societies. Since then it had made rapid
progress, its membership reaching nearly thirty thousand in 1893, with
funds liberally augmented by the emperor, and an annual income before
the war with China of $70,000. Since 1887, a large number of women,
including members of the royal family and of the nobility, have become
qualified nurses of the order and have taken instruction in the making
of articles for use in its work. The objects of the society, as set
forth in the rules, are to help the sick and wounded in time of war, and
to prepare for the same by organizing a trained staff in time of peace.
The last activity of the Red Cross society prior to the war in 1891, was
when the central provinces of Japan were devastated by an earthquake
which caused the loss of more than seven thousand lives, besides untold
suffering.
With the object of training a staff properly, the society in 1886
established a hospital of its own in Tokio, and three years later, when
this one was outgrown, a new one was erected on a splendid site provided
by the emperor and empress. The hospital itself covers some two acres,
and the grounds about ten. After the war began, the membership funds and
operations of the society were all multiplied about three times above
normal. All the working staff was under the control of the army medical
staff, and operated in conjunction with the army corps. At Hiroshima in
the permanent military hospital, Chinese wounded by the scores and
hundreds were received and treated with the same care that was given to
the Japanese. For order, cleanliness, and convenience these institutions
would reflect credit on any country. Just prior to the battle of Port
Arthur, the female nurses of the Red Cross societies in Hiroshima
numbered eighty-eight and more were soon to come from Tokio. Like the
men they had uniforms of European pattern, and all wore the badge of
membership. Many had other badges representing special qualifications or
services.
In Corea there were two hospitals managed by the Red Cross society, one
near Chemulpo and the other near Ping-Yang. At the seat of war the
society had a staff of forty, consisting of a chief manager, a
secretary, a treasurer, five doctors, two pharmacists in charge of the
drug supplies and thirty male nurses.
To those who love contrasts, it will be startling to note the difference
between the spirit of the Japanese Red Cross society, which was doing
everything that humanity and science could suggest for wounded Chinamen,
and that of the victorious army at Port Arthur in its atrocious butchery
of unarmed fugitives.
The execrable deeds which followed the taking of the place pushed into
the background the question of how many hundreds on one side or the
other fell in the battle. The massacre of the whole remaining population
of Port Arthur, between two and three thousand, without distinction of
age or sex, and that by the soldiers of Marshal Oyama’s army, for a time
passed practically without mention in the newspapers of England and the
United States. Three of the famous correspondents who entered the town
with the Japanese army were Creelman of the New York _World_, Villiers
of the London _Standard_, and Cowan of the London _Times_. The first
detailed description of the atrocities witnessed by these correspondents
was that made by Creelman, and for a time after his story was published,
other leading American journals denounced it as false. One month later
it was found that Creelman’s shocking story was true in every essential
particular. No words except those from the lips of men who saw the acts
of inhuman barbarity can justly describe the scenes. Said Cowan, in a
letter dated at Kobe twelve days after the taking of Port Arthur:
“What happened after Port Arthur fell into Japanese hands, it would have
been impossible and even dangerous to report while on the spot. At the
earliest possible moment, every foreign correspondent escaped from the
horrifying scene to a place where freedom of speech would be safe; and
as we sailed away from Port Arthur on the Nagoto Maru eight days ago,
almost astonished to find ourselves escaping alive from the awful
epidemic of incredible brutality, the last sounds we heard were those of
shooting, of wanton murder, continued the fifth day after the great
battle. When the Japanese army entered Port Arthur on the 21st,
beginning a little after two o’clock in the afternoon, the Chinese had
resisted desperately till the last, retreating slowly from cover to
cover, until they got back among the buildings on the outskirts of the
town. Then at last all resistance ceased; they were thoroughly defeated,
and made a stampede through the streets trying to hide or to escape,
east or west as best they might. I was on the brow of a steep hill
called “White Boulders,” in Japanese Hakugoku, commanding a close view
of the whole town at my feet. When I saw the Japanese march in, firing
up the streets and into the houses, chasing and killing every live thing
that crossed their path, I looked hard for the cause. I saw practically
every shot fired, and I swear positively that not one came from any but
Japanese. I saw scores of Chinese hunted out of cover, shot down, and
hacked to pieces, and never a man made any attempt to fight. All were in
plain clothes, but that meant nothing for the soldiers flying from death
got rid of their uniforms how they might. Many went down on their knees,
supplicating with heads bent to the ground in kowtow, and in that
attitude were butchered mercilessly by the conquering army. Those who
fled were pursued and sooner or later were done to death. Never a shot
came from a house as far as I could see, and I could hardly believe my
eyes, for, as my letters have shown, the indisputable evidence of
previous proceedings had filled me with admiration of the gentle
Japanese. So I watched intensely for the slightest sign of cause,
confident that there must be some, but I saw none whatever. If my eyes
deceived me, others were in the same plight; the military attaches of
England and America were also on Boulder Hill and were equally amazed
and horrified. It was a gratuitous ebullition of barbarism they
declared, a revolting repudiation of pretended humanity.
“Gun shots behind us turned our attention to the north creek leading
into the broad lagoon. Here swarms of boats were moving away to the
west, loaded to twice their normal limit with panic-stricken fugitives,
men, women, and children, who had stayed too late in the beleaguered
town. A troop of Japanese cavalry with an officer, was at the head of
the creek, firing seaward, slaughtering all within range. An old man and
two children of ten and twelve years had started to wade across the
creek; a horseman rode into the water and slashed them a dozen times
with his sword. The sight was more than mortal man could stand. Another
poor wretch rushed out at the back of a house as the invaders entered
the front door, firing promiscuously. He got into a back lane, and a
moment later found himself cornered between two fires. We could hear his
cry for quarter as he bowed his head in the dust three times; the third
time he rose no more, but fell on his side, bent double in the posture
of petition for the greatly vaunted mercy of the Japanese, who stood ten
paces off and exultantly emptied their guns into him.
“More of these piteous deaths we saw, unable to stay the hands of the
murderers; more and more, far more than one can relate, until sick and
saddened beyond the power of words to tell, we slowly made our way in
the gathering gloom down the hill, picking a path through rifle-pits
thick with Chinese cartridge cases, and back to headquarters. There at
the Chinese general’s pavilion, facing a spacious parade ground, Field
Marshal Oyama and all his officers assembled, amid the strains of
strange music from the military band, now a weird, characteristic
Japanese march, now a lively French waltz, and ending with the
impressive national anthem, “Kaminoga,” and a huge roar from twenty
thousand throats, “Banzai Nippon!” All were overflowing with
enthusiastic patriotism and the delight of a day’s work done, a splendid
triumph after a hard fought fight; none of the Japanese dreamed that
their guests from the west were filled with horror, indignation, and
disgust. It was a relief to get away from that flood of fiendish
exultation, to escape from the effusive glee of our former friends, who
would overwhelm us with their attention which we loathed like caresses
from the ghouls of hell. To have to remain among men who could do what
we had seen was little short of torture.
[Illustration: JAPANESE SOLDIERS MUTILATING BODIES.]
“Robbed of our sleep on the eve of the battle, and utterly exhausted, we
lay long next morning until the sound of shooting roused us. To our
surprise and dismay we found that the massacre of Wednesday, which might
have been explained though certainly not excused on the ground of
excitement in the heat of battle, the flush of victory, and the
knowledge of dead comrades mutilated, was being continued in cold blood
now. Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and Sunday were spent by the soldiery
in murder and pillage from dawn to dark, in mutilation, in every
conceivable kind of nameless atrocity, until the town became a ghastly
Inferno to be remembered with a fearsome shudder until one’s dying day.
I saw corpses of women and children, three or four in the streets, more
in the water; I stooped to pick some of them out to make sure that there
could be no possibility of mistake. Bodies of men strewed the streets in
hundreds, perhaps thousands, for we could not count—some with not a limb
unsevered, some with heads hacked, cross-cut, and split lengthwise, some
ripped open, not by chance but with careful precision, down and across,
disemboweled and dismembered, with occasionally a dagger or bayonet
thrust in private parts. I saw groups of prisoners tied together in a
bunch with their hands behind their backs, riddled with bullets for five
minutes, and then hewn in pieces. I saw a junk stranded on the beach,
filled with fugitives of either sex and of all ages, struck by volley
after volley until—I can say no more.
“Meanwhile every building in the town was thoroughly ransacked, every
door burst open, every box and closet, every nook and cranny looted.
What was worth taking was taken, and the rest destroyed or thrown into
the gutter. Even Mr. Hart, Reuter’s war correspondent on the Chinese
side, whom we found when we entered Port Arthur, was robbed of
everything but the clothes he had on, while his cook and two scully boys
in the same house were shot at their kitchen stove, while doing nothing
but their regular work. Mr. Hart himself had told the Chinese hotel
keeper before the battle not to leave the town, because the Japanese
would certainly do no harm to citizens or property. So thoroughly had
been the discipline maintained, and so perfect the show of civilized
methods in warfare, that the present outburst of cold-blooded brutality
was the very last thing to have been thought possible.
“The Japanese alleged that the populace of the town had been armed with
guns and express ammunition, and that the army when entering the town
had been attacked from the houses. I did afterward find cartridges such
as these lying about; but I never saw one fired. I never saw any attack
from the houses. I saw the Japanese firing before they entered, and as
they entered, without intermission.
“The Japanese who had been wounded and killed or captured in several
skirmishes before the day of the battle, had been horribly mutilated by
the Chinese. We saw several bodies along the line of march, and it is
said others were found in the town, with hands and heads cut off,
stomachs opened, etc. And some were burnt at Kinchow, and one said to be
burnt in Port Arthur. Moreover, placards have been found offering
rewards and stating prices, for heads, hands, or prisoners. So the
Japanese soldiers swore revenge, and they carried out their vow
thoroughly in barbarous eastern style. All that can be said is that the
Chinese committed nameless atrocities which the Japanese repaid a
hundred fold.
“It is unavoidable that innocent persons must be killed in war. I do not
blame the Japanese for that alone; Chinese soldiers dress as peasants
and retain their weapons, and attack when they can under cover of
disguise. It therefore becomes excusable to some extent to regard all
Chinese as enemies, with or without uniform; in that the Japanese are
plainly justified. But regarding them as enemies, it is not humanity to
kill them; they should be taken alive. I saw hundreds killed after being
captured and tied. Perhaps that is not barbarity; at any rate it is the
truth. On the day of the battle, soldiers fresh from the excitement of a
hard struggle cannot help being somewhat bloodthirsty, perhaps. At any
rate their nerves are tense, their blood is up, they are violently
excited. Not that it is right to be so, but it is usual. But the battle
was on the 21st, and still on the 25th, after four nights’ sleep, the
slaughter was continued. Some allowance must be made for the intense
indignation of the soldiers whose comrades had been mutilated by the
Chinese. Indignation is perfectly justifiable; the Japanese were quite
right to feel incensed. But why should they express themselves in the
very same barbarous manner? Is it because they are also barbarous at
heart like the Chinese? Of course they say ‘No.’ Then they will have to
prove it, for the fact remains that a dozen white men saw these Japanese
commit these savageries for four clear days after the day of the fight.”
Creelman’s story was as graphic and as shocking in its details, and
included many of the same sights which were related by Cowan. He says in
part: “The story of the taking of Port Arthur will be one of the
blackest pages in history. An easy victory over a Chinese mob, and the
possession of one of the most powerful strongholds in the world, was too
great a strain upon the Japanese character, which relapsed in a few
hours back to the state from which it awakened a generation ago. Almost
the entire population found in Port Arthur have been massacred, and the
work of butchering unarmed and unresisting inhabitants has continued day
after day until the streets are choked with corpses. The march upon
helpless Peking or a surrender of China to her foe is a small matter in
its vital significance compared with this appalling crime against the
nineteenth century, at a moment when Japan asks to be admitted as an
equal into the family of civilized nations. The Japanese lost about
fifty dead and two hundred and fifty wounded in carrying a fortress that
would have cost them ten thousand men had it been occupied by European
or American troops, and yet the sense of uncontrolled power which let
loose the savagery which had been pent up in the Japanese under the
external forms of civilization, has proved the utter incapability of the
nation to stand the one sure test. Japan stands disgraced before the
world. She has violated the Geneva convention, dishonored and profaned
the Red Cross, and banished humanity and mercy from her councils.
Victory and a new lust for dominion have set her mad.
“All attempts to justify the massacre of the wretched people of Port
Arthur and the mutilation of their bodies, are mere afterthoughts. The
evidence is clear and overwhelming that it was the sudden breaking down
of Japanese civilization under the stress of conscious power. The
tremendous facts revealed by the war so far are, that there is
practically no Chinese army in existence; that Japan has been arraying
herself in the outward garb of civilization, without having gone through
the process of moral and intellectual development necessary to grasp the
ideas upon which modern civilization is founded; that Japan at heart is
a barbarous nation, not yet to be trusted with sovereign power over the
lives and property of civilized men. Up to the moment Port Arthur was
entered I can bear witness that both of her armies now in the field were
chivalrous and generous to the enemy. There was not a stain on her flag.
But it was all blind sentiment. The Japanese were playing with the Red
Cross as with a new toy and their leaders were never weary of calling
the attention of other nations to the spectacle.
“When Port Arthur fell, not even the presence of the horrified British
and American military attaches and of foreign newspaper correspondents
served to check the carnival of murder. I have again and again tried to
save helpless men from slaughter by protest and entreaty, but in vain.
The sign of the Red Cross was jeered at, and in the midst of the orgies
of blood and rapine, with troops tramping over the bodies of unarmed
victims who lost their homes, the fat field marshal and his generals
paced smiling, content at the sound of rifle shots mingling with the
music of the national hymn and the clink of wine glasses. I am satisfied
that not more than one hundred Chinamen were killed in fair battle at
Port Arthur and that at least two thousand unarmed men were put to
death. It may be called the natural result of the fury of troops who
have seen the mutilated corpses of their comrades, or it may be called
retaliation, but no civilized nation could be capable of the atrocities
I have witnessed in Port Arthur. Every scene I have described I have
looked upon myself, either in the presence of the American and British
military attaches, or in the company of Mr. Cowan or Mr. Villiers. The
field marshal and all his generals were aware that the massacre was
being continued day after day.
[Illustration: MARSHAL OYAMA.]
“We watched the Second regiment as it marched into town, firing volleys
as it advanced. Not a shot was fired in reply. The soldiers had made
their escape, and the frightened inhabitants were cowering in the
streets. As the troops moved on they saw the heads of their slain
comrades hanging by cords with the noses and ears gone. There was a rude
arch in the main street decorated with bloody Japanese heads. A great
slaughter followed. The infuriated soldiers killed every one they saw. I
can say as an eyewitness that the wretched people of Port Arthur made no
attempt to resist the invaders. Just below me was a hospital flying the
Red Cross flag, but the Japanese fired upon the unarmed men who came out
of the doorway. A merchant in fur cap knelt down and raised his hands in
entreaty. As the soldiers shot him he put his hands over his face. I saw
his corpse the next day, slashed beyond recognition. Women and children
were hunted and shot at as they fled to the hills with their protectors.
All along the streets I could see the bleeding store keepers shot and
sabered. A junk was discovered in the harbor crowded with fugitives. A
platoon was stretched across the end of a wharf, and fired into the boat
until every man, woman and child was killed. The torpedo boats outside
had already sunk ten junks filled with terror stricken people.
“The Japanese had tasted blood, and the work went on the second day. I
saw four men walking peaceably along the edge of the town, one man in
the street carried a naked infant in his arms. As he ran he dropped the
baby. I found it an hour later, dead. The third, the father of the baby
tripped and fell. In an instant a soldier had pounced upon his back with
a naked bayonet in his hand. I ran forward and made the sign of the Red
Cross on the white non-combatant’s bandage around my arm, but the appeal
was useless. The bayonet was plunged three or four times into the neck
of the prostrate man, and then he was left to gasp his life out on the
ground. I hurried back to my quarters and awakened Frederick Villiers,
who went with me to the spot where I left the dying man. He was dead,
but his wounds were still smoking.
“While we were bending over the corpse we heard shooting a few yards
around a road, and went forward to see what it was. We saw an old man
standing with his hands tied behind his back. On the ground beside him
were the writhing bodies of three other pinioned men who had just been
shot. As we advanced a soldier shot the old man down. This was the third
day after the battle. Next day I went in company with Mr. Villiers to
see a courtyard filled with mutilated corpses. As we entered we
surprised two soldiers bending over one of the bodies. They had ripped
open the corpse. When they saw us they cowered and tried to hide their
faces.”
It is but fair to the Japanese to relate what they had to offer in
contravention of these shocking reports so well substantiated. The
Japanese minister to Great Britain, Mr. Takaki Kato, while passing
through New York some weeks after the taking of Port Arthur, offered
these explanations.
“Port Arthur, while vastly important as a strategic point, was scarcely
more than a village as far as the number of its inhabitants was
concerned. These, which at the outside could not have numbered more than
two or three thousand, consisted of a few petty merchants, laborers, and
workmen in the docks, their families, and the wives and children of some
of the soldiers. This was all that Port Arthur consisted of, as far as
population was concerned in times of peace, except the military forces
that manned the forts. Second, it had long been known that the Japanese
forces were advancing on the fort. All the non-combatants, women and
children, were removed to places of safety long before the battle began;
indeed the exodus was begun fully a month beforehand. Third, in the face
of these reports of wholesale slaughter, how do you account for the fact
that between three and four hundred Chinese soldiers were taken
prisoners in and about the town of Port Arthur immediately after its
occupation?
“The victorious army was compelled before entering the town to pass
through a narrow defile which was strewn with the mutilated bodies of
their advance troops. There lay their comrades in arms, not only dead,
but with every evidence that they had been tortured to death by the most
revolting and brutal methods. Picture such a scene of horror, and you
will have a faint conception of the sight that greeted our victorious
soldiers as they marched through that narrow pass. These were their
comrades, their companions, that lay before them as ghastly evidences of
inhuman brutality. Can you appreciate the low murmur of horror that
passed along the line? Can you understand how each man then and there in
his heart determined to avenge such fiendishness, and then can you blame
our men for killing every Chinese soldier found hidden in the town when
they first entered? Yes, there were excesses, regrettable but surely
exhonorable excesses, after the battle of Port Arthur. But these wild
tales of the wholesale slaughter of innocent women are fiction pure and
simple. A few women may have been killed in the general melee that
followed the first entrance into the town, but that was accident, not
intention, if it occurred at all. With a very few exceptions all the men
killed proved to be Chinese soldiers who had discarded their arms and
uniforms.
“What our troops saw of Chinese barbarity did not begin with Port Arthur
nor did it end there. The most atrocious cruelties were the rule at
Ping-Yang, Kinchow, and indeed every engagement. Before accepting this
reported wantonness of our troops at Port Arthur we must take into
consideration what the Japanese troops did before and what they have
done since. Nowhere has there been butchery or cruelty, but kindness,
moderation and nobility. This in spite of all that our soldiers saw of
the fate of their unhappy companions; this in the face of new
barbarities that were revealed almost daily. Is this not a credit to our
soldiers worthy of national pride and international appreciations?”
The variety of explanations offered to excuse the atrocities was
considerable. It was reported from Port Arthur a few days after the
charges had been made, that the capture of the place was indeed marked
by regrettable excesses, but the offenders were not regular soldiers. It
was said that the night after the capture of the stronghold, a number of
coolies attached to the army as laborers came into the town from the
camps. These men carried swords, in order to obviate the necessity of
always having regular troops told off for their protection.
Unfortunately they obtained access to some Chinese stores of liquor, and
became intoxicated. While in this condition they were reminded of the
atrocious cruelties committed by the Chinese upon defenseless Japanese
prisoners, and became frenzied. All the coolies practically ran amock,
and no Chinamen whom they met was spared. It was declared that some of
the coolies were at once arrested, and that Marshal Oyama was already
investigating the affair, when he received instructions from imperial
headquarters at Hiroshima to institute a rigorous inquiry.
The barbarities practised by the Chinese against the Japanese, which
resulted in the atrocious retaliation, were fully corroborated from many
sources. A correspondent of the American Bible Society wrote thus from
Shanghai:
“The reported inhuman atrocities of the Chinese are fully confirmed.
They were guilty of barbarities too revolting to mention. A scouting
party of Japanese, including an interpreter, were captured by the
Chinese near Port Arthur just before the attack on the fortress. They
were fastened to stakes by nails through their shoulders, burned alive,
and then quartered and their ghastly remains stuck up on poles by the
roadside. Some Japanese members of the Red Cross society were captured
by the Chinese soldiers and flayed alive. During the attack on Port
Arthur the defenders used explosive bullets. Is it any wonder that the
Japanese generals issued the order that no quarter should be shown? The
track of the retreating army has been marked by pillage, rapine, wanton
destruction and outrage, so that the people welcome the Japanese.”
Japanese diplomats in Washington did not take kindly to the civilized
censure of Japanese atrocities. They had read up on Andersonville, Libby
Prison, Fort Pillow, Wounded Knee, the British cruelties in India and
Africa, the Russian record, and they were ready to compare notes with
civilized armies on the subject of cruelty in war. They also brought
forward native Japanese papers which described the taking of Port
Arthur, and declared that those who were killed after the assault
suffered only because of the frenzy of a few Japanese, shocked by what
they had seen of the cruelties to their own comrades. It was declared
that the Japanese officers and the body of the troops did all in their
power to stop the bloodshed. Furthermore, the Japanese government asked
for a suspension of judgment until the merits of the case could be
investigated.
The savage massacres which marked the capture of Port Arthur were not
the first, nor will they be the last which will disgrace the conduct of
troops calling themselves civilized. English troops were guilty of
similar massacre in the Peninsular campaign, at least one time in the
Crimea, and repeatedly in suppressing rebellion in India. Our own troops
in the west have been stung to ruthless massacre by the discovery of
their tortured dead in Indian villages. Fort Pillow gave ghastly proof
of the readiness to butcher in our war. French troops in Algeria, New
Zealand colonists in suppressing a Maori rising, and Boers in South
Africa have slaughtered without mercy. These occasions neither palliate
nor excuse barbarity. It is wrong in all races, and in all races from
time to time it will come to the surface. The amazing fact about Japan
is that it is the first Asiatic nation in all history which has fought
any battles and conducted any military operations without massacre. The
slaughter or slavery of surrendered troops has been the unbroken rule of
Asiatic warfare for centuries. Japan has actually been able to reverse
the practice and habit of generations, to school its soldiers to mercy,
and even in the present instance it has been followed, as Wellington’s
massacres in the Peninsula never were, by investigation and an attempt
at repressing like disorder in the future.
As an indication of the trend of thought of Chinese newspapers, and of
ignorance of the Chinese people concerning the truth of the war, it is
amusing to note the report of one of the vernacular papers on the fall
of Port Arthur. This paper editorially says:—“In allowing the Japanese
to take Port Arthur, General Tso was actuated by motives of the deepest
strategy, and the able manner in which he attained his end, without
allowing his opponents to penetrate his designs, stamps him as one of
the greatest military commanders China has ever seen. Knowing Peking to
be the ultimate goal of the Japanese, General Tso was satisfied that
should a too obstinate resistance be offered at any point, the Japanese
would leave the Chinese unconquered in his rear, and would push on to
the capital; whereas, if an important place like Port Arthur should fall
into their hands, the little men would enjoy the sensation as they would
a new toy, and it would delay them in their march while the road to
Peking was rendered impregnable. General Tso, therefore, inflicted all
the loss possible upon the Japanese, without allowing them to be
absolutely discouraged, and then when defeat was staring his opponents
in the face, gave the signal to his troops to retreat, which they did in
good order. So great was the loss of the Japanese, that it was not until
some hours after the last Chinese soldier had departed, that they
ventured to enter the forts.
“General Tso displayed marked military skill in his defensive tactics,
and by ordering half-charges of powder to be used in the big guns, and
filling the shell and torpedoes with sand, deluded the innocent
commander of the Japanese fleet into the belief that the defenses and
sea forts of Port Arthur were innocuous. As a result the Japanese fleet
boldly ventured close to the forts and within the line of the torpedo
defenses, and before they discovered their mistake three men-of-war,
seven transports, and twenty-one torpedo boats were sunk by the Chinese
fire and submarine mines. The result of General Tso’s actions prove, as
we have always maintained, that it is inadvisable for China to employ
other than native commanders in the present war. In hand-to-hand combats
the savage and flesh-eating Fanquoi is physically superior to our men,
but no man other than one conversant with the military wisdom of our
enlightened race could have planned and brought to a successful
conclusion the train of events which ended in the offering of Port
Arthur as a bait to our diminutive opponents.”
From a military point of view, the capture of Port Arthur by the
Japanese was an event of the first importance, while its moral effect
and its consequent influence upon the diplomatic situation was very
great. It transferred from one side to the other all the advantages of a
fully equipped arsenal and dockyard, occupying a commanding strategical
position, and therefore modified all the conditions, naval as well as
military, of the campaign. It made the defense more hopeless than ever,
and extended the chain of Chinese disaster.
[Illustration:
CHANG YEN HOON.
Envoy sent by China to Japan to negotiate terms of peace before the
despatch of
Li Hung Chang.—See pages 623 and 655.
]
------------------------------------------------------------------------
FROM PORT ARTHUR TO WEI-HAI-WEI.
--------------
China Makes Another Attempt towards Peace—The Envoy Rejected Because of
lack of Credentials and Rank—President Cleveland Offers to Help Create
Peace—Chinese and Manchoos at War—Japanese Victories Immediately after
the Taking of Port Arthur—More Corean Politics—The Third Japanese
Army—Preparing for a Descent on the Chinese Mainland—Wei-hai-wei and Its
Capture.
Even before Port Arthur had fallen, China was making another attempt to
secure peace through the intervention of foreign nations. As this seemed
slow in coming, however, it was decided that an informal effort to stop
hostilities would be made, one indeed of such a sort that it might be
disavowed if criticism seemed to demand. Consequently, Mr. Gustav
Detring, the Chinese Commissioner of Customs under Sir Robert Hart, was
sent to Japan to feel the way in preliminary negotiations. In its
perplexity and distress, the Chinese government took the step which only
extremity could have driven it to take. It swallowed the pill which was
of all things most bitter. The emperor, on the advice of his council and
at the instigation of Prince Kung and Li Hung Chang, appointed a
foreigner as envoy to Japan. The office was not one which timid Chinamen
would envy, because none of them were ambitious to hand down their names
to posterity in connection with the humiliation of their country. The
wisest man in office was Prince Kung, but he was not the dictator which
he was supposed to be. He was thwarted by other influences, among them
the Grand Council, of which he was not but ought to have been a member.
In this confusion, the grand imperial effort towards centralization of
authority had partially at least failed, and the failure had the effect
of rehabilitating for the moment the Viceroy Li Hung Chang, who once
more stood out as the only possible practical man. This aged statesman
had many faults, which those who were nearest to him saw most clearly,
but if we compare even his faults with the wisdom of his compeers, he
was still the one-eyed man among the blind, the only man at the time in
the empire who was capable of anything, and whose removal from the scene
would have been regarded with grave apprehension by all who were
interested in the maintenance of order against chaos.
Mr. Detring, with his suite, left Tien-tsin November 22 by rail to
Tung-ku, embarked there on a steamer, under the German flag, called the
Li-yu, and steamed down the Gulf of Pechili past Chefoo and Wei-hai-wei.
Not until the vessel reached Japan did they know of the fall of Port
Arthur. The vessel proceeded to Kobe, where no one was permitted to land
at first. The envoy at once sought communication with Count Ito, and
applied to the local authorities to inform His Excellency thereof. The
result was not an invitation to Mr. Detring to visit Hiroshima, but the
dispatch of the Secretary-General of the cabinet, Mr. Ito Moiji, to
confer with him at Kobe. From this point there is a difference of
statement as to what occurred. The Chinese declare that before the
arrival of the secretary, Mr. Detring had been recalled by his
government, and having taken leave of the governor he left at daylight
on the 29th without waiting to see Mr. Ito, who had arrived the previous
night. The Japanese, on the contrary, assert that they refused to
entertain any proposals from Mr. Detring, as he was not properly
accredited and had no authority whatever to make peace negotiations.
However that may be, it is certain that he returned to China without
having an audience with any Japanese officials, and that the peace
negotiations were never even begun.
The next surprise was that whereas the United States had declined to
entertain England’s proposal for a coalition of powers to restore peace
to the orient, President Cleveland subsequently tendered to Japan his
good offices as mediator. He hoped that by his aid peace might be
restored, and restored in such a manner as to secure to Japan the just
fruits of her victories. A reply declining his proposal, couched in duly
grateful terms, was conveyed to the president by Japan, and he having
learned in the interval that the European powers would not agree to
intervene conjointly, ceased his own activity. It was still hoped
however that Minister Denby at Peking and Minister Dun at Tokio would be
able to use their good offices in advancing peace. Japan was holding out
the insistence that China must speak for herself if she wanted peace.
Japan however did go so far as to say that if China had any propositions
of peace to make, they might be transmitted in the beginning through the
United States ministers in Japan and China. It was still evident
however, that China would hold off as long as possible, in the hope that
something would turn up to relieve her of the necessity of suing for
peace.
The Manchoo princes feared and mistrusted the Chinese, who seemed to be
indifferent to the issue of the war, and intent only on obtaining
individual advantage. It was reiterated again and again, that the
Chinese secret societies desired Japanese success in order that the
Manchoo dynasty be overthrown and the Chinese restored to power. Captain
Von Hannecken, at the request of the Tsung-li Yamen, submitted a
comprehensive scheme of military reorganization. This was approved by
the emperor and the Manchoo statesmen, but was frustrated by the
strategem of certain wealthy taotais, on the alleged ground of economy.
The question was then referred from Peking to Tien-tsin. Thus the
central and provincial governments reduced each other to impotence.
Genuine reform in China appeared to be hopeless, owing to the invincible
ignorance of the rulers. There was much popular discontent at the
imbecility of the government.
Let us now return to the other forces of Chinese and Japanese, whose
movements, comparatively unimportant, have been neglected for the
advance on Port Arthur. A considerable portion of the Chinese fleet was
still in the harbor at Wei-hai-wei, sometimes cruising out for a little
while, but usually safe at anchor. Several of the Chinese vessels had
slipped out of Port Arthur harbor when Japanese backs were turned, and
steamed across to supposed safety at Wei-hai-wei. On November 22 the
Chen-Yuen, the largest and most formidable battle ship remaining to the
Chinese, ran ashore while entering Wei-hai-wei harbor, and trying to
avoid the torpedoes placed in the channel. She was somewhat damaged by a
torpedo, and was finally beached and rendered useless for the time.
Commodore Liu Taitsan, who was in command of the vessel, anticipated
official condemnation by committing suicide.
The fall of Port Arthur was followed immediately by a succession of
victories for the Japanese arms in Manchooria, the first Japanese army
continuing its success. The advance of this army towards Mukden
terrorized the people of Manchooria, and the abandonment of the sacred
city by its inhabitants began. The country around was in a state of
desolation. The wounded mostly remained in villages between Niuchwang
and Mukden, the state of the country preventing the Chinese medical
staff and foreign volunteers from proceeding thither. Mukden was
evacuated in the beginning of November by the foreign residents, who
remained at Niuchwang. The Roman Catholic fathers remained at their
station in Manchooria, but the Protestant missionaries returned to safer
regions.
At Jeh-ho the Mongols rose in rebellion, in revenge for the
assassination of six Mongolian princes. Troops had to be called to put
down the insurrection, as had so often occurred before during the war.
On the day of the taking of Port Arthur, a large body of Chinese troops
under General Sung attacked Talien-wan and Kinchow, where Japanese had
been left to guard baggage trains and provisions. The conflicts were
sharp, and a number was killed on both sides, but the Chinese were
finally forced to retire. The day after Port Arthur’s fall, the greater
portion of Count Oyama’s army turned and marched northward through the
Laio-Tung promontory, in the direction of Niuchwang. Ten thousand troops
were left behind to guard Japanese interests at Port Arthur.
November 25, sharp fighting took place near the Mo-thien-ling pass,
between a portion of General Sung’s army and the Japanese under Count
Yamagata. After the Chinese troops had retired from Chiu-lien, they
concentrated north of Mo-thien-ling, and the engagement was an attempt
to turn the Japanese right flank at Tsokow. The conflict opened with a
sharp fusillade, and the Chinese fought with considerable stubbornness
for a time, losing heavily before they finally retired. The attack was
the most determined effort that the Chinese had made since Ping-Yang.
The alarm which existed among the residents of Manchooria, causing their
exodus to Niuchwang, was caused quite as much by Chinese soldiery
retreating or disbanded, as by the Japanese army’s advance. Many
deserters had joined the bands of robbers and brigands to raid the
country in every direction.
The first army, under Field Marshal Yamagata, finding the country in the
direction of Mukden wasted and deserted, while guerrilla troops harassed
them continually, now abandoned the march to Mukden and joined the
second army, which had turned north, near Niuchwang, Field Marshal Oyama
had sent his transports and a portion of his fleet around the Liao-Tung
peninsula, to move towards Niuchwang, paralled with his army. General
Techimi’s division met the enemy December 10, and after a pitched battle
defeated them with heavy loss. It being reported that a large force of
Chinese under General I was encamped near Kinkua-hu, General Techimi was
ordered to advance upon that place. His scouts reported the Chinese to
be in considerable force, and to consist of cavalry as well as infantry.
General Techimi separated his division into two columns, and delivered a
simultaneous attack early in the morning. The Chinese offered a stout
resistance, and severe fighting ensued. The superior shooting and
discipline of the Japanese soon told. The enemy were gradually driven
back, and finally they broke and fled in disorder, the Japanese pursuing
them for several miles. The majority of the Chinese escaped in the
direction of Tso-hun-kou. The Japanese lost about forty killed and
wounded, and their opponents one hundred.
Field Marshal Yamagata, who had been in command of the first army since
its organization, at last broke down in health under the strain of his
responsibility and labor, and was compelled to return home in the hope
of restoring his health. He was succeeded by Lieutenant-General Nodzu,
his friend and adviser with the troops. The news of Yamagata’s illness
caused much distress in Japan, and he was welcomed with the highest
honors, both from the government and the people.
In China the position of the government seemed to be precarious.
Dissatisfaction was rife in Peking and Tien-tsin over the conduct of the
war, and every one in turn was accused of responsibility in the matter.
The Manchoo and Chinese elements were bitterly opposed, and an anti-war
which advocated peace at any price was increasing rapidly. The court of
inquiry which sat at Peking to inquire into the circumstances connected
with the loss of Kinchow and Talien-wan, held that Kinchow was strong
and well-garrisoned and ought never to have been surrendered. The
commandant was therefore sentenced to degradation from military ranks
for allowing the Japanese to take the place. The foreign residents in
Peking, Tien-tsin, and Chefoo were by this time getting nervous over
their own prospects for safety, owing to the disorder and rioting that
prevailed, enhanced by the threatened invasion of the Japanese army.
Marines were sent to Peking from the war ships of all western nations in
Japanese waters, and attached to the legation for the protection of
their countrymen in China. Anti foreign feeling in the capital was on
the increase, and the blue jackets were welcomed most heartily when they
landed.
Early in December Corea suffered another political crisis, owing to the
duplicity of the government. All the Corean ministers professed
gratitude to Japan, for giving them the opportunity of undertaking the
administrative and social regeneration of their country. They promised
Count Inouye, the Japanese resident, faithfully to follow his advice and
to carry out with the least possible delay the program of reforms
recommended by him. Count Inouye however discovered, that while making
these professions, the ministers were plotting to obstruct his policy of
reform, and had even gone so far as to send messengers to various parts
of the country to incite the people to rise against the Japanese. He
therefore informed the Corean government that Japan would give no
further assistance to the king in suppressing the Tonghak rebellion. The
minister of the interior at once resigned, and the king promised to make
inquiry and punish those guilty of treachery. In a private audience,
Count Inouye sharply remonstrated with His Majesty, explained that
reforms were necessary to save the country from barbarism, complained of
the encouragement given to the plotters and repeated his threat to
recall the Japanese troops sent out against the Tonghaks. The king
promised that matters would be put right. The following day the
ministers called in a body upon Count Inouye. They admitted that they
had behaved in a deceitful manner, begged that he would pardon their
duplicity and assured him that they would in future give faithful
consideration to his suggestions and his schemes of internal reform.
There is a little confusion in the names of towns around the Gulf of
Liao-Tung, owing to the duplication of names. Kinchow is a village to
the north of Talien-wan Bay, and was one of the first points of attack
by the Japanese when they landed on the promontory. At the extreme
northern point of the gulf is a city of the same name, and several
reports that were made as to the capture of Kinchow were discredited
because of this confusion. The first Kinchow was indeed occupied by
Japanese troops from the time of its capture. The other one, however,
was not threatened at all. Unless mention is made here to the contrary,
references to troop movements around Kinchow refer to the village at the
head of the promontory.
The bulk of the second Japanese army moved to Kinchow, on its way
northward after the capture of Port Arthur, and the Chinese force which
attacked the Japanese garrison at Kinchow on November 22, fell back to
Foochow, a little to the northward of Port Arthur, on the road to
Niuchwang. About the 1st of December General Nogi’s brigade left
Kinchow, with orders from Marshal Oyama to attack Foochow. The garrison
of the city was reported to number five thousand, and the position was
favorable for defense. The brigade moved forward very rapidly, as there
was no organized opposition to its advance. On the 4th, General Nogi
heard that the Chinese were retreating, and on the following day the
Japanese entered Foochow without firing a shot. The Chinese had
evacuated the city and had retreated northward towards Niuchwang.
The first Japanese army continued clearing the country north of the
Yalu. Large bodies of Chinese were in the triangle formed by lines drawn
between Chiu-lien, Niuchwang, and Mukden. The mountains around about
Feng-hwang, which constituted a strong strategic position, had been in
the hands of the Japanese since October, and now General Tatsumi
attacked the highest pass, Lien-shan-kuan, from the east. On December 12
a strong Japanese scouting party from Feng-hwang sighted a large force
of Chinese advancing from the west. The Japanese, who consisted entirely
of cavalry, sent word back to Feng-hwang, and keeping the Chinese in
sight fell back upon the main body. The Chinese pushed on as far as
Yih-man-shan, where they encamped for the night. The Japanese force set
out to attack the Chinese position, and at dawn the next morning the
fight began. The Chinese were fully four thousand strong, and while the
fight was in progress two more regiments joined them. The Japanese fell
back to a stronger position, and adopted defensive tactics. The Chinese
forces, emboldened by their temporary success, made repeated efforts to
break through the Japanese lines, but each attack was repulsed. Seeing
that the Chinese were in such force, General Nodzu ordered one battalion
of the fifth division to reinforce the garrison of Feng-hwang. This
reinforced garrison then started on Thursday night, December 13, to
strengthen the Japanese advance posts at Yih-man-shan. Colonel Tomayasu
was in command of the Japanese force, which numbered one thousand four
hundred men with six field guns.
At daybreak an attack was made upon the Chinese left flank. The enemy
was well posted, and fought better than any troops heretofore
encountered by the Japanese in Manchooria. The struggle was a severe
one, but the Chinese left wing gave way before the Japanese charge, and
threw the center into confusion. A hot and continuous fire prevented the
Chinese from recovering their formation, and a second charge drove them
into a disorderly retreat. The contents of the camp and thirty prisoners
fell into the hands of the Japanese. The Chinese lost some two hundred
and fifty killed and wounded and the Japanese about one hundred.
It is difficult to convey a clear idea of the various operations in
Manchooria, for no map accessible to general readers is sufficiently
accurate to afford trustworthy indications, and the field of fighting
extended over a considerable area among places too small in many
instances to be recorded on a map. There were in fact, at this time,
December, three Japanese and three Chinese armies operating in
Manchooria. The Japanese forces consisted of the second army under
Oyama, in the Liao-Tung peninsula, and the right and left wings of
Yamagata’s force, who had been succeeded by Nodzu. The first army,
Yamagata’s, after passing the Yalu and capturing Chiu-lien, separated
into two parts, the right wing nominally twelve thousand five hundred
strong, moving northward along the Mukden road under the command of
Nodzu, and the left wing of equal strength, under the command of
Katsura, moving westward down the Yalu, its object being ultimately to
establish communication with Oyama’s forces, twenty-two thousand strong,
when the capture of Port Arthur should have freed the latter to advance
northeastward up the peninsula.
The Chinese armies were also three. One of these armies was massed at
the north, defending the approaches to Mukden. It aggregated about
twenty-five thousand men so far as could be ascertained, but its
fragmentary fashion of fighting rendered a total estimate difficult. The
second army was grouped in the southwest, guarding the coast roads to
China proper, via Niuchwang. This army, according to the accounts,
aggregated about thirty thousand. Its headquarters were at Kai-phing,
where a junction would naturally be effected between Oyama’s forces and
the left wing of Yamagata’s army. The easiest method of obtaining a
clear idea of the situation, is to follow in outline, the operations of
the various armies.
The southeastern Chinese army was composed of the Amoor frontier forces,
under General I. It was moved down under direct orders from the throne,
the strategical idea being to strike swiftly and secretly at Marshal
Yamagata’s weak point, namely, his long line of communications between
the Yalu River and his outposts, fifty miles north of Feng-hwang. Thus
General I's operations ultimately resolved themselves into an attempt to
recover Feng-hwang. He marched against it from three directions, the
main northerly road, and two easterly roads. The Japanese did not wait
to receive his attack. On December 10, Major-General Techimi, who
commanded the van of the Japanese right wing, launched his battalion at
I's van of three thousand men on the main road, and by consecutive
onsets cut the enemy in two, driving a part of his force into the
mountains eastward, and a part along the main road northward. Two days
later a reconnoissance sent eastward from Feng-hwang found the main body
of I's forces on the Aiyang-pien road, and the following morning a
battalion moved out to attack him. But it having been seen that he
mustered fully six thousand, and that advancing along two roads his
front extended over a distance of more than three miles, the Japanese
plan was modified so as to deliver the chief assault against his left
wing, orders being also forwarded to Techimi, then operating north of
Feng-hwang to move east and south with the object of taking I's right
wing in the rear. December 14 saw the attack on the Tartar general’s
left wing. It was completely rolled back and broken, the Japanese
pursuing its remnants far into the mountains. The Chinese lost one
hundred and fifty killed and sixteen prisoners, and abandoned four Krupp
guns, a number of horses, and a quantity of war material. The Japanese
had twelve killed and sixty-three wounded. I's right wing made no
attempt to hold its ground after the defeat of the left. It retired in a
northeasterly direction and its retreat was subsequently changed into a
route by collision with a Japanese pursuing column sent out from
Techimi’s position.
The northerly army of China consisted of that portion of General Sung’s
troops that retreated along the main road towards Mukden after the fall
of Chiu-lien and Feng-hwang, together with the Mukden garrison. They
held the pass of Mo-thien-ling against several attacks of the Japanese,
and remained there in force after severe winter set in. They had several
collisions with Techimi’s outposts, but none of importance to the
general conduct of the war.
The western Chinese army consisted partly of troops originally engaged
in the defense of Chiu-lien and Feng-hwang, partly of the Niuchwang
garrison, and partly of a Mongolian force that had come down to join
them from the northwest. This was the largest force and aggregated
nearly sixty thousand. After the battles around the lower Yalu, these
troops had been driven inland by the Japanese, taking Hai-tcheng as
their objective point, but halting on the way at Siu-Yen. They were
driven out of here by the Japanese, and moved westward to Simu-tcheng, a
town eighteen miles southeast of Hai-tcheng. On December 11, the
Japanese troops under Osako, moving northward from Siu-Yan, reached the
advance posts of the enemy and made an attack. The Chinese force
consisting of three thousand infantry and four hundred cavalry, with
eight guns, was driven back after a brief resistance, and the next day
another body four thousand five hundred strong, with six guns, was
dislodged from a position three or four miles further on. The Japanese,
following up their advantage, took possession of the Simu-tcheng the
same afternoon. This division and the co-operating division which had
taken another road, entered the place almost simultaneously after two
days of unbroken success. They advanced together on the following day,
and at 11:00 A.M. Hai-tcheng was in their possession. Its garrison was
found to consist of only one thousand five hundred men, who after a show
of resistance retired northeastward in the direction of Liao-Yang. The
occupation of Hai-tcheng placed the Japanese on the high road from
Niuchwang to Mukden, some twenty miles from Niuchwang and eighty from
Mukden. This was a position of considerable strategical importance. For
the moment however, Japanese troops turned southward a few miles in the
direction of Kao-Khan, a fortified town not far from the mouth of the
Liao River. This movement was connected with the march of the second
army up the Laio-Tung peninsula, to which reference must now be made.
After the capture of Port Arthur and the completion of arrangements
relating to the occupation of that place, Marshal Oyama returned to
Kinchow and made preparations to advance northward against Foochow, an
important walled town of twenty-five thousand inhabitants fifty-three
miles to the northward. General Sung, with some six thousand men held
Foochow, and a vigorous resistance was anticipated. But on December 5,
the Japanese van entered the town unopposed. The advance was then
resumed to Kai-phing, a city of still greater importance sixty-three
miles distant. And as this army moved northward, the left wing of the
first army moved southward from Hai-tcheng, as has just been said,
threatening Kai-phing from the other side and cutting off the garrison’s
direct line of retreat. It is interesting to note that wherever Japanese
troops took possession of a city or district, an officer was immediately
appointed to be military governor, the inhabitants were kindly treated,
and every effort was made to preserve peace and free the natives from
annoyance or oppression.
On the 17th and 18th of December the scouts of General Katsura’s
division brought word to him of important movements of the enemy, who
appeared to be advancing in strong force. All this proved to be nothing
more formidable than the flight of General Sung’s army northward. On the
night of the 18th the Chinese army was ascertained to be passing within
a few miles of the Japanese camp, and Katsura therefore moved against
them with his full strength. The Chinese were overtaken on the following
morning. Osako’s brigade was the first to be engaged. The enemy made a
stand at the village of Kungwasai and severe fighting ensued. While this
was proceeding Oshima’s brigade coming from Hai-tcheng entered the field
and joined hands with Osako. The combined force consisted of four
complete regiments, five batteries of artillery, besides other troops.
The Japanese artillery, which was well placed, played havoc with the
Chinese, who stubbornly stood their ground. The Japanese infantry
charged splendidly and cut their way through the Chinese army, but the
enemy rallied and fired steadily. A desperate hand-to-hand struggle took
place. After five hours’ fighting, the Chinese began to falter and soon
they were in full and disorderly flight, some to the westward and others
north. The Chinese lost probably five hundred killed and wounded and the
Japanese loss, too, was very severe. This was probably the most
obstinate engagement yet fought by the armies in Manchooria. The Chinese
had strongly entrenched themselves at the little village of Kung-wasai,
near Hai-tcheng, and they defended their position most vigorously. The
ground was thick with snow, and the battle was a desperate one. Charge
after charge made by the Japanese was faced and the assaulting troops
driven back. But with a fourth charge the battle ended, the Japanese
rushing into the Chinese works and carrying everything before them.
The constant succession of defeats of the Chinese forces, made imperial
circles in Peking a nest of nervous uncertainty. Factional fights
existed among the officials, and no one knew when his position or his
head was safe. The empress dowager remained firm in her confidence in Li
Hung Chang, and this fact served to retain him the title of viceroy. All
of his decorative honors had however by this time been stripped from
him, and only the queen’s favor and the fact that it was not wise to
make of him an open enemy saved him from losing his last title. Early in
December Prince Kung was appointed president of the Grand Council. He
lost no time in moving towards severe punishment the military and naval
officers who for being defeated were adjudged traitors. An imperial
decree imperatively ordered the arrest of Taotai Kung the civil
commandant and the four generals who commanded at Port Arthur in order
that they should be sent to Peking to be tried and punished for the loss
of the fortress. Admiral Ting was also arrested for failing to defend
the dockyard. Generals Yeh and Wei of Ping-Yang fame were handed over to
the same board of punishment. The foreign officers serving in the
Chinese fleet sent to Prince Kung a unanimous protest against the
infliction of punishment upon Admiral Ting, declaring that the charges
made against him were unjust and that they would resign if he was
punished. In response to this protest therefore an edict was issued
continuing the admiral in command of the fleet.
The late viceroy of Nanking, Liu-kun-yi, was now appointed to the chief
command of all the Chinese forces in the field, thus superseding Li Hung
Chang and Prince Kung so far as military command was concerned. He had
made an impression at the palace by his energy and by his plans for
resisting invaders. Immediately upon his appointment Liu petitioned to
be relieved from the office, pleading indisposition, but his request was
refused at the palace. His desire was taken as an indication that he
felt himself incapable of successfully carrying out the arduous task
imposed upon him. In the face of the emperor’s imperative orders Liu
could not avoid accepting the command, and he therefore began making
appointments to his staff and preparing for his immediate departure to
the front.
At last on December 21, it was given out to the world that peace
negotiations with Japan were to be begun in earnest, in the hope that
the crowning humiliation of a Japanese occupation of Peking might be
averted. The emperor selected Chang Yen Hoon, vice-president of the
Tsung-li Yamen as his peace envoy and, it was said, invested him with
the fullest powers to treat. It was announced that he would proceed
immediately to Japan with an adequate suite and ample credentials. He
was a man of great ability, and great confidence was expressed in the
success of his mission. Mr. Dun, United States minister at Tokio,
learned that the Japanese government would receive the Chinese envoy
with every consideration due to his rank, and with an honest desire to
help him to bring his mission to a successful conclusion. But from the
very beginning there was strong evidence to indicate that China was not
acting in the best of faith, for no authoritative statement was made by
the government at Peking of the appointment of such a plenipotentiary.
This suspicion was only too well corroborated a few weeks later.
The Chinese government, after deciding to send an envoy to Japan,
addressed a formal request to President Cleveland for the assistance of
a recognized statesman in connection with the forthcoming peace
negotiations in Tokio. The president lost no time in replying. It was
officially announced in Washington December 27, that the Hon. John W.
Foster, Secretary of State in the cabinet of President Harrison, after
the death of secretary Blaine, had been appointed legal adviser to the
Chinese peace plenipotentiary who was about to be sent to the government
of Japan. Before entering President Harrison’s cabinet Mr. Foster had
represented the United States as minister at Madrid and he acted as
agent of the United States in the court of arbitration of the Bering Sea
question at Paris. He was one of the foremost among international
lawyers in the United States, with large experience in Chinese affairs.
His selection by President Cleveland was not an official one, but was
merely in response to a request from China for friendly assistance. Mr.
Foster had no official standing from the United States, but acted simply
as an adviser to the Chinese envoy.
A curious incident comes well substantiated regarding Mr. Foster’s
preparations for his trip. Shortly before he sailed for China, it is
said, a party of Wall street men went to see him on the subject of the
Chinese indemnity. This indemnity was destined to have an important
bearing upon American politics. Should the indemnity be paid in gold,
our own treasury reserve would be drawn upon rather seriously. Should it
be paid in silver the demand for the white metal would undoubtedly
create an enormous demand for the product of western mines to the great
advantage of the silver producing states. The Wall street men visited
Mr. Foster in a body and urged him to favor a gold settlement. The
diplomat became very much incensed at this. He declared that the
representations of the bankers were a gross violation of diplomatic
ethics, and that he would act as he thought best in the interests of
China. From that time forward the prospective treaty was anticipated
with great interest by American bankers.
The eighth session of the Japanese parliament was opened at Tokio,
December 24. In the absence of the emperor at Hiroshima his speech was
read by one of the ministers. It took occasion to congratulate the
country for the success of the Japanese arms and declared the need of
further persistence towards the successful conclusion of the war.
Political sentiment, so far as party spirit was concerned, did not run
high in Japan, for nearly all parties were united in support of the war.
The session of parliament therefore awakened no marked interest.
The collossal nature of the task that devolved upon Japan when she
undertook to reform the Corean administration was becoming daily more
apparent. The first difficulty presenting itself was the fact that all
the high offices of state were occupied by proteges of the queen,
members of the Ming family. The queen was a woman of considerable and
large ambition. She exercised great influence over the king and employed
it to secure preferment and appointment for her own relatives. But the
queen and her friends were indefatigable supporters of China. The
Chinese resident always worked in their interests; they firmly believed
that Chinese supremacy would be re-established sooner or later; and they
were wedded to Chinese systems as affording the widest scope for
self-aggrandizement. Thus they stood in the very forefront of the
opponents of reform. That was recognized from the outset, and the device
was adopted of entrusting the chief powers to the Tai-wen Kun, an
inveterate enemy of the Ming family. But the old prince whose political
record was written in blood cared not one jot for reform. His one idea
was the Tai-wen Kun. Moreover, he too believed in the restoration of
Chinese influence and wishing to enlist it in his own behalf he opened
secret correspondence with the Chinese generals, promising them that the
appearance of their troops before Seoul should be the signal for a
widespread insurrection of the Tonghaks to attack the Japanese
simultaneously. These letters were discovered and placed in the hands of
Count Inouye. He invited the Tai-wen Kun to the Japanese legation and
quietly showed him the incriminating documents. Of course there was no
imperative reason why any Corean subject should prefer Japan to China.
The Tai-wen Kun had a right to choose between the two, but he had no
right to hold the regency under pretext of furthering reforms which he
was secretly working to defeat. It was not difficult to induce him to
resign the regency. He saw that the game was lost and consented to
efface himself from the political arena. At the demand of the Japanese
minister, the Corean king formed a new cabinet more satisfactory to
Japanese influence and the crisis was passed. The revolts of the
Tonghaks, however, seemed to be almost continuous and every day brought
news of a riot engendered by them.
The Japanese armies which we left in Manchooria near Kai-phing, were
posted on a curve extending from that city near the sea, to Hai-tcheng,
which was strongly fortified, and posts also extended from there to the
Mo-thien-ling hills. They thus occupied a strong position for defensive
and offensive purposes. Very severe weather had set in early in January
and hundreds of Japanese soldiers were suffering from frostbite. The
Chinese forces had withdrawn to Kao-khan near Niuchwang, although the
force occupying Liao-Yang had advanced some distance towards Hai-tcheng,
which the Japanese were occupying.
Early on the morning of January 10, a brigade under General Nogi marched
against a Chinese force encamped in the vicinity of Kai-phing. The
attack was made at dawn, but the deep snow rendered military movements,
especially the bringing up of guns, a matter of great difficulty. The
Chinese had twelve fieldpieces and two gatlings which were well handled.
Their force numbered about three thousand. The fight lasted four hours,
and consisted mainly of an exchange of shot and shell until the Japanese
were in position on the Chinese flank, when an infantry charge was
ordered and the Chinese fell back before the heavy fire. The final
attack upon the center was splendidly made and by 9:00 o’clock the
Chinese were well beaten. There was some stiff fighting at the last, but
by 10:00 o’clock the Japanese were in full possession of the town. Two
hundred Chinese were found dead in the positions which they had held,
and one hundred and fifty were taken prisoners. The Chinese force was
commanded by General Seh, who expected to be strongly reinforced before
the Japanese attack could be made. On learning this, General Nogi sent
out scouting parties towards Yo-chow. They reported that a Chinese army
estimated to number ten thousand men had been marching upon Kai-phing
but having heard of the defeat of General Seh this large force had
immediately retired towards Ying-tsu, the port of Niuchwang.
Either confidence or desperation of the Chinese was exemplified in the
vicinity of Niuchwang a few days later when two Chinese corps marched
against the Japanese advanced lines, and opened an attack. One of these
corps advanced from Liao-Yang, whilst the other marched from the
direction of Niuchwang. They were estimated at from twelve to fourteen
thousand men and they had with them several fieldpieces and gatling
guns. They came in sight of the Japanese lines before noon and continued
their advance until within less than two miles. Then they halted and a
consultation was held amongst their staff. They made no further advance,
much to Japanese disappointment, but simply began a heavy fire from
their artillery. At 2:00 o’clock in the afternoon, General Katsura
ordered the Japanese to reply, and a concentrated fire was opened upon
the Chinese ranks. The total Japanese force concentrated to receive the
Chinese attack consisted of four battalions of infantry and one
battalion of artillery with twelve guns. The artillery fire continued
for an hour, when seeing that the Chinese were being thrown into
confusion by the bursting shells, General Katsura ordered a charge upon
the enemy’s right wing. It proved to be entirely successful. Five guns
which protected the enemy’s right were captured at once, and the whole
force immediately retreated. Another charge upon the center scattered
the Chinese. The majority fled to the north, whilst a portion retreated
in the direction of Niuchwang. The Chinese losses were roughly estimated
at nine hundred, and the Japanese scarcely one-tenth of that number.
The first army, finding the country in the direction of Mukden wasted
and deserted while guerilla troops harassed them continually, now
virtually abandoned the march to Mukden and formed a junction with the
second army drawing together at the acute angle to which they had been
so long converging. Oyama and Nodzu met and from that time worked with
their forces conjointly. The Chinese were becoming bolder in the
vicinity of Hai-tcheng which made the necessity greater for a union of
forces. At the same time Mukden itself was in a state of riotous
disorder, the Manchoo and Chinese troops continually at conflict with
one another and therefore scarcely needing the attention of the Japanese
to attack either side. Military operations in Manchooria were now
exceedingly difficult owing to the depth of snow and the bitter cold
weather. Both armies were suffering from the rigors of the season, and
neither regretted the opportunity for a cessation of active hostilities.
General Nogi moved forward his headquarters to Huntsai. Cavalry
skirmishes between scouting parties between Niuchwang and Kai-phing, and
between Niuchwang and Hai-tcheng were of daily occurrence and with them
we will consider the season’s campaign of the armies in Manchooria
closed.
The raising of Li Hung Chang’s enemy, Liu-kun-yi, to the chief military
command in China stirred up more and more trouble for military and naval
officers as the time went by. Half of the generals of the army and the
admirals and commanders of the navy were arrested, charged with various
degrees of guilt, and many of them were sentenced to death. As a matter
of fact, however, not many of these sentences were carried out, although
General Wei was beheaded in Peking, January 16. The influence of Li Hung
Chang could not, however, be destroyed, even though he had been relieved
of all his functions except that of governor-general of his province.
His connections with prominent officials in China had been too intimate
and his strength too great that all could be taken away from him even by
imperial edict. The old viceroy, the Bismarck of Asia quietly bided his
time and waited the results that he felt sure would come. The Chinese
envoy and his suite of fifty-six lingered at Shanghai day after day
delaying their start to Japan with the avowed explanation that further
instructions were expected, but with the understanding frankly held by
every one except themselves that they were really detained in the hope
that something would turn up, that some special providence would
interfere to relieve them of the necessity of presenting China’s suit
for peace to her ancient enemy.
And now the third Japanese army was ready for its descent upon the
Chinese coasts and another invasion of the Celestial Empire was
impending.
THE EXPEDITION TO CAPTURE WEI-HAI-WEI AND
ITS SUCCESS.
--------------
Plans for the Third Japanese Army—Description of Wei-hai-wei and its
Defenses—Arrival of the Japanese Troops—Landing of the Forces at
Yung-tcheng Bay—Bombardment of Tengchow—Capture of Ning-Hai—Wei-hai-wei
Forts Taken—Severity of the Weather—Action of the Fleets—The
Torpedo Boats—Continuing the Bombardment—A White Flag From the
Chinese—Surrender—Admiral Ting’s Suicide—After the Surrender.
The command of the sea definitely gained by the Japanese at the battle
of the Yalu, now enabled another expeditionary force to be landed on the
shores of China, this time on the Shantung peninsula, which juts out
between the Gulf of Pechili and the Yellow Sea on the south, as the
Liao-Tung peninsula does between the Gulf of Laio-Tung and Corea Bay on
the north. Since that eventful action, the Chinese fleet had remained in
port, and the Japanese had been free to use the water-ways of the east,
as if no enemy’s ships existed. To undertake a new enterprise was merely
a question of men and means. The transports employed at Port Arthur were
available, and a third army twenty-five thousand strong was mobilized at
Hiroshima in December. These troops were embarked for an expeditionary
force to threaten Wei-hai-wei. There were fifty Japanese transports in
the squadron, convoyed by a few war ships, and the fleet sailed away
from Japan just before the middle of January.
Wei-hai-wei is about twenty-five miles west of the extreme northeastern
point of the Shantung promontory, and fifty miles east of Chefoo, which
was the nearest treaty port. Wei-hai-wei consists of an island some two
miles long, and the adjacent mainland, running in a semi-circle around
the bay. Between the island and the shore is a large and safe harbor,
with an entrance at either end. At both entrances, two rows of submarine
torpedo mines furnished protection against invading squadrons, and on
the island stood the naval and gunnery school of China, and the houses
of the foreign instructors. The island was defended by three forts, one
at the east end, one at the west, and the third on a little island
connected with it. On the hills which rise from the island also six
small batteries with quick firing guns. In one of the forts were four
heavy Krupp guns, in another three, while in the third were two
Armstrong disappearing guns of twenty-five tons, on revolving planes. On
the mainland was a small village, while three forts commanded the
eastern entrance to the harbor, and three the western, armed in the same
way as the forts on the island. Seven men-of-war remaining to the
Chinese fleet were at anchor in the harbor, and would be useful in
defense of the place, though not enough for battle at sea against a
fleet. The fortifications were built under the direction of Captain Von
Hannecken, and several foreigners in the Chinese service had remained
there throughout the war as artillerists and in other capacities. The
Chinese Admiral Ting was also there, against whom the Chinese censors
had been speaking so bitterly. There were strongly equipped forts, a
beautiful harbor, a good naval school, and all was ready to be captured
by the Japanese.
[Illustration: DISTANT VIEW OF WEI-HAI-WEI AND ITS SURROUNDINGS.]
The Japanese transports touched at Talien-wan Bay on the way to the
Shantung promontory, and took on board some of the officers who had been
with the army around Port Arthur. Except for these however, the troops
moving on Wei-hai-wei were all new in the field. On the 18th of January
a small reconnoitering party of Japanese naval officers landed from a
boat in Yung-tcheng Bay, having left their ship out of sight around the
eastern headland. They arrived in the night, cut the telegraph lines
connecting Shantung promontory lighthouse with Wei-hai-wei, and
afterward, being of course in disguise and familiar with the Chinese
language, made inquiries of the peasantry. They discovered that the
commander of Wei-hai-wei, having heard of warships off the promontory,
had sent some five hundred troops to defend Yung-tcheng. The Japanese
then decided to land at dawn on the 20th. Yung-tcheng Bay is about four
miles southwest of the northeast promontory lighthouse, and faces nearly
due south. On the east is a bold headland connected by low hills with a
chain of abrupt heights running west. The west headland, enclosing the
bay, is not so high and ends in a spit of sand and rocks, beyond which
are two smaller shallow bays, and Yung-tcheng town about seven miles
away due west. Nestling close under the west slope of the strip is a
small village. Yung-tcheng Bay is about a mile wide, and hemispherical.
The anchorage is good for large vessels to within one hundred yards of
the beach, and the large fleet assembled there for hostile purposes was
well protected.
The Japanese flotilla was led by five war ships which were two or three
hours ahead of the rest—twenty transports carrying one division of
infantry, with an escort of four war ships. Other war ships were on
patrol duty, with torpedo boats blockading Wei-hai-wei completely. The
transports which came on the 22nd contained another brigade of infantry,
a strong force of artillery, some cavalry, and the large and important
commissariat and transport sections.
The Chinese troops first took up a position on the sand spit and opened
fire on the ships with four fieldpieces, without effect. Meantime some
two hundred Japanese marines were being landed on the beach under the
eastern bluff. As the boats drew near the shore a few shots came in
their direction, but the Chinese marksmanship was utterly useless. The
Japanese succeeded in getting ashore without any mishaps whatever by
7:00 A.M., while daylight was still faint. The ground was covered with
snow a few inches deep. A shell from one of the war ships set fire to a
small cottage where the Chinese were, and they were forced to retire to
the village behind the knoll. Here planting their guns, four Krupp
fieldpieces, on rising ground, with infantry in the broken ground about
the village, they tried their best to make a stand; but the guns of the
war ship were making the position untenable, and a bayonet charge of
marines put an end to their resistance. They fled to Yung-tcheng,
leaving their cannon. The losses on either side were slight. By eight
o’clock the transports had arrived, and the landing of troops began,
finishing before dusk. The disembarkation of the rear guard, which came
on the second fleet of transports, was also carried on expeditiously on
the 23rd.
During the afternoon of the 20th a battalion of the newly landed
soldiers pushed on without delay or rest to Yung-tcheng. The Chinese
force of about five hundred made slight resistance; there was a little
firing, but no casualty on either side, and the place was taken. A
detachment of Japanese followed westward in pursuit of the enemy. A
quantity of arms, ammunition, and stores fell into the victor’s hands at
Yung-tcheng.
The first thing done by the Japanese on landing was to make a small
floating jetty of sampans and planks, from the sandy beach to water deep
enough for launches. Rough sheds were also erected rapidly, so as to
make the place a convenient depot as a subsidiary base of operations.
Here the troops were sheltered as they landed, moving over to
Yung-tcheng as rapidly as possible, so that within a few days they were
almost all quartered in the town and surrounding villages. The
inhabitants went about their business as usual, evincing only a little
timid curiosity towards the invaders.
Japanese strategy was to be credited, to considerable extent, with the
easy landing granted to their troops in Yung-tcheng Bay. War ships had
been cruising back and forth along the north shore of the promontory,
keeping the commanders of various posts nervously expectant of an
attack. Finally on Saturday, January 19, war vessels drew near to
Tengchow, some thirty miles northwest of Chefoo, and began a bombardment
which lasted throughout the day. The Chinese worked their guns well, but
were not equal to the Japanese gunners either in rapidity or precision
of fire. Many of the Chinese guns were dismounted by the Japanese fire,
and others were rendered useless through absence of sufficient
ammunition. By nightfall all the forts were silenced and the city was at
the mercy of the invaders. Two thousand Japanese landed and kept up an
incessant fire from fieldpieces upon the land side, while the ships were
bombarding the water front. This demonstration was only for the purpose
of creating a diversion, and attracting Chinese attention to Tengchow,
while averting it from Yung-tcheng.
On January 23, a Japanese force landed at Ning-Hai, midway between
Wei-hai-wei and Chefoo, and the former city was therefore surrounded.
The landing was covered by the guns of a dozen war ships, but there was
no opposition. The troops at once marched upon the city of Ning-Hai,
situated near the point of landing, and the place fell into their hands
after a very feeble resistance. The occupation of Ning-Hai isolated
Wei-hai-wei from Chefoo. The Chinese arsenal was almost exactly half way
between the two Japanese landing places, and the coast road being in
occupation of the Japanese, news from the threatened garrison had to be
carried over mountain paths with considerable difficulty.
The strong Japanese fleet of war ships, transports, and torpedo boats
was now assured of safety from any possible attack in Yung-tcheng Bay,
and the war ships patrolled back and forth between the two landing
places in constant threat of Wei-hai-wei, and forbidding the exit of the
Chinese vessels which were penned in that harbor. The expeditionary
force had landed all the necessary heavy guns and ammunition, beside
forage, food, and other necessaries. The British and German flagships
were in Yung-tcheng Bay, besides several American war vessels. The two
land forces now moved upon Wei-hai-wei, one from the east and one from
the west.
The forts on the mainland at Wei-hai-wei were captured by the Japanese
on January 30. The taking of the Chinese stronghold was due to skillful
combined movements on the part of the Japanese land and naval forces,
the main attack, however, being made by the troops on shore. The
resistance, considering the strength of the place, was feeble. Some of
the forts, however, were stubbornly defended, and the loss was heavy on
both sides. The Japanese troops of the sixth division were under arms at
two o’clock in the morning, and the advance was at once ordered. As soon
as it was daylight the assault on the enemy’s defensive lines began, and
by nine o’clock the outlying batteries and intrenchments were almost all
in the hands of the Japanese.
Meanwhile the second division was delivering a direct assault from the
southwest on the Pai-chih-yaiso line of forts, a position of great
strength, with precipitous sides about one hundred feet in height. The
attack was made under cover of a furious bombardment from the Japanese
men-of-war. The main point of Chinese resistance was here. After the
fighting on this side had been going on for some hours, the sixth
division, having driven in the enemy before it, made a detour, and
advancing behind Mount Ku which concealed the movement, made a strong
attack from that side on the Pai-chih-yaiso forts. By half past twelve
these forts were in possession of the Japanese. By preconcerted
arrangement the signal was at once given to the Japanese fleet, which
proceeded without delay to take possession of the eastern entrance of
the harbor.
The Japanese fleet had been keeping well off the shore, throwing a few
shots occasionally into the batteries upon Leu-kung-tau island, but the
main attack was upon the eastern forts. The ironclads dropped their long
distance shots into the Chinese position with fair accuracy, but eight
of the smaller Japanese vessels steamed along the shore within easy
range and worked their guns steadily and well. One well placed shell
caused a terrific explosion in Fort Number One, pointing to the
eastward, and that fort took no further part in the fighting. A few
minutes later Japanese troops rushed in and their flag went up. At half
past twelve another deafening roar proclaimed that an explosion had
taken place in Fort Number Two. Whether this was due to Japanese fire,
or whether the Chinese deliberately blew it up, was not known, but the
fort was destroyed. The Chinese firing flagged after this. At last only
one gun in Fort Number Three could be worked, the Chinese fled, and the
Japanese swarmed in. This action evidently discouraged the men in Fort
Number Four for the garrison abandoned the place and joined their
retreating countrymen, while the fort fell into the hands of the
Japanese intact.
The Chinese fleet had been busy throughout the fight, but kept well
under shelter of the island. Their shell fire was mainly directed upon
the masses of Japanese infantry, advancing against the land forts, and
the batteries upon the island were similarly employed. With the capture
of Number Four fort the Japanese were in a position to turn the guns
upon their enemies, a fact of which they were not slow to take
advantage. They opened fire upon the Chinese fleet and upon the land
batteries, doing more damage in a short time than their fleet had been
able to accomplish during the day. This was too much for the Chinamen,
and abandoning their former tactics, the battleship Ting-Yuen steamed
out from her island shelter, and coming in close to Fort Number Four,
hammered away vigorously for a full half hour. By that time every gun in
the fort had been silenced, and the Japanese were fairly shelled out of
it.
The resumption of the fight on Thursday, January 31, by the Japanese
fleet was rendered impossible by a severe northerly gale accompanied by
a blinding snowstorm. The decks of the ships, and also the guns were
covered with ice. Seeing that the position was becoming dangerous for
his ships, Admiral Ito ran to Yung-tcheng Bay for shelter and safe
anchorage, leaving a small squadron to keep watch at the entrance to
Wei-hai-wei harbor. On shore the Japanese made great efforts to
strengthen their position, and for the next few days there was desultory
firing, but no continuous bombardment.
The hardest day’s fighting for the Japanese fleet was Sunday, February
3. The tempestuous weather which prevailed during Friday and Saturday
kept the main squadron in shelter, and while the other ships were
watching the two entrances to the harbor, their work gave greater
opportunities for seamanship than for gunnery. They engaged the island
forts occasionally and exchanged shots with the Chinese war ships, but
the land batteries did most of the firing. Sunday, however, was the
navy’s day although the land batteries were not idle. Almost with
daybreak the fleet opened fire upon the forts of Leu-kung-tau island
which replied vigorously. The bombardment soon became terrific. The
flagship and several other large vessels were in possession outside the
bay, and concentrated their fire upon the eastern island batteries. The
second division rained shell upon Fort Zhih. The bombardment had
scarcely begun when the Chinese fleet joined in very gallantly. The
Ting-Yuen used her thirty-seven ton guns without effect, but succeeded
in drawing some of the Japanese fire to herself. The Lai-Yuen, the
smaller ship, stood towards the Japanese and fought well, suffering
considerable damage and many casualties. Two of the Chinese gunboats
also took an active part in the defense and were not badly damaged.
These four vessels fought with great determination until darkness set in
when the firing ceased on both sides. The bombardment had caused great
damage to the Chinese works, particularly at Zhih, where many men had
been killed and wounded. Several guns were dismounted and towards the
close of the fight the fire from the Chinese batteries slackened in a
marked manner.
The sea was still rough on Sunday night, but the Japanese ships did not
seek shelter. It was confidently expected that some of the Chinese ships
would endeavor to escape during the night, and the harbor exits were
therefore blocked by the Japanese fleet. Admiral Ting however made no
move, and when morning broke his squadron was seen in its old position,
under the shelter of the island. It was learned from a prisoner taken on
shore that Admiral Ting had issued a general order to his captains that
even if the defenses on the mainland should fall into the enemy’s hands,
the war ships must remain inside the harbor and help the island forts to
destroy the Japanese fleet. Every officer was ordered to remain at his
post until the last, under pain of dishonor and death.
Monday morning the bombardment was resumed. The Japanese fleet engaged
both forts and ships, and the land batteries bombarded the Chinese
squadron. The fire from Fort Zhih continued weak, and the Chinese
battleships were so repeatedly and so seriously hit that their guns were
handled with difficulty and with less spirit. Finally, towards the close
of the fight, the Ting-Yuen was disabled. It gradually settled down, and
at length foundered amid loud shouts of triumph from the Japanese on
land and sea. The Chen-Yuen, too, was badly damaged.
When the remaining vessels of the Chinese fleet were captured, they were
in serviceable condition, but badly damaged. The torpedo boats of the
fleet made a rush through the western entrance, of the harbor, to escape
capture. The Japanese flying squadron immediately gave chase, and for
hours maintained a most exciting pursuit. Some of the torpedo boats were
sunk almost before they cleared the harbor, but others managed to get
past the Japanese squadron. They were not however in a condition to make
their best speed, and one by one they were overtaken and either sunk,
driven ashore or captured. The Japanese fleet, on the other hand did not
escape unscathed. The torpedo boat which sank the Ting-Yuen was
destroyed by a hail of shot, eight of her crew being drowned. Another
Japanese torpedo boat had her engineer and all her stokers killed by a
shell bursting in the engine-room, and indeed it was a much damaged
flotilla that returned to Admiral Ito. Only one boat escaped entirely
uninjured. So severe was the cold that on one of the torpedo boats
during the stealthy approach to the bay, a lieutenant and his two
lookout-men were frozen to death at their posts.
Monday on shore was as busy as on sea and the fighting continued without
cessation throughout the day. The guns in the eastern and western forts
that could be brought to bear upon the Chinese fleet and the forts on
the island were worked all day by Japanese gunners and the Chinese
artillery men fought their guns well in reply. On the land side the
infantry of the sixth division moved against some minor lines to the
west still held by the Chinese. The latter did not wait for the Japanese
onslaught, but fled away westward leaving arms and stores behind them.
By noon there was not a single fortress or battery on the mainland
around Wei-hai-wei that the Japanese had not captured.
Marshal Oyama meantime had ordered the fourth division to attack the
town of Wei-hai-wei itself. The place however surrendered without a shot
being fired. The Chinese garrison had fled in the early morning, and the
citizens opened the gates to the Japanese forces. No injury was
sustained by the town or inhabitants. As fast as was practicable, fresh
guns were mounted in place of the disabled ones in the captured forts,
and every hour added to the weight of metal thrown against the Chinese
fleet and island forts. But night set in, and the Chinese fleet fought
with as much determination as ever. Search-lights were kept playing by
both belligerents throughout the night. An occasional shot was fired by
one or the other, but the fierce cannonade of Sunday was not resumed
until dawn. Then the large Chinese war ships, sheltering themselves as
much as possible under the island, shelled the various forts in turn.
The smaller Chinese vessels were scattered about the bay, taking little
part in the fighting, and escaping the attention of the Japanese
gunners. The Chinese had burnt or sunk every junk and boat in the harbor
in order to prevent their being used by any large body of Japanese to
make an effectual landing upon the island. The roar of the big guns
during Monday was incessant. Shells were dropped repeatedly into the
island forts, and the Chinese battleships were hit again and again, but
there was no sign of the fleet giving in or of their ammunition giving
out. At night the firing ceased, and again the search-lights illuminated
land and sea.
On the night of Monday, February 4, the Japanese after many hours’
exertions succeeded in clearing the entrance to the harbor of
Wei-hai-wei of all the torpedoes and submarine mines that had been laid.
And under cover of the darkness torpedo boats stole in and launched
their projectiles at one of the great Chinese ironclads. The torpedoes
took effect, and the vessel sank.
Day after day the shore forts at Wei-hai-wei, aided by the Japanese
fleet, continued their bombardment of the Chinese war ships and the
forts on the island, getting a reply which gradually diminished in
strength. The fleet could not escape from the harbor, owing to the
presence of the Japanese flotilla just outside, so they fought on
bravely, doing much damage indeed to the Japanese, but accomplishing no
final results. The timber obstructions at the eastern entrance to the
bay were destroyed by the Japanese to admit their torpedo boats to that
side, as they had already been admitted to the other entrance. With the
Chinese torpedo fleet escaped and destroyed, there was no adequate
defense against this threat. Finally it seemed that there was no use in
further resistance.
On February 12, a Chinese gunboat flying a white flag came to the
Japanese fleet with a message from Admiral Ting. He proposed to the
Japanese commander-in-chief to surrender all his ships remaining afloat
and all arms and ammunition, and to give possession of the forts still
holding out, upon the sole condition that Admiral Ito would guarantee
the lives of the Chinese sailors and soldiers, and of the European
officers serving under the Chinese flag in the fleet and in the island
forts. Admiral Ito, in reply to the offer, acceded to the terms and
demanded that the naval station should be thrown open. On the morning of
the 13th however, the Chinese messenger returned and informed the
Japanese Admiral that Admiral Ting had committed suicide on the previous
evening, and that his responsibility was transferred to Admiral McClure.
The news was even more startling than that of a single suicide, for
Admiral Ting’s commodore, the general in command of the island forts,
and Captains Liu and Chang had all taken their own lives through grief
and shame at having to surrender. Admiral Ting before committing suicide
wrote a politely worded letter addressed to the Japanese
commander-in-chief explaining his reasons for taking his life and
enclosing letters which he requested might be forwarded to their
destination.
[Illustration: ADMIRAL McCLURE.]
The only officer of high rank left on the Chinese war ships was Admiral
McClure, the Scotchman who had been recently appointed to act as second
in command to Admiral Ting. Admiral McClure sent word by the staff
officer that having succeeded to the command by the death of Admiral
Ting, he was prepared to carry out the surrender and to consult Admiral
Ito’s convenience in the matter. He suggested that Admiral Ito should
give his guarantee to the British Admiral or to some other neutral naval
officer, that as soon as the Chinese war ships and island forts had been
handed over, the soldiers and sailors and the Chinese, and foreign
officers should be set free. Admiral Ito replied that no guarantee was
necessary beyond the Japanese word and he peremptorily declined to
furnish one. This decision was accepted without further demur, the
Chinese flags were everywhere lowered and the transfer of ships and
forts was at once proceeded with.
The soldiers who had held the island first gave up their arms, and then
were put on board Chinese and Japanese boats and taken on shore.
Escorted by Japanese troops, they were marched through the Japanese
lines, out into the open country and there set free. They were treated
with every respect and seemed surprised that their lives were spared. On
the morning of February 15, the officers and sailors of the Chinese
ships were disposed of in similar fashion. The foreign officers, about a
dozen all together waited for a neutral ship to take them away.
[Illustration: JAPANESE SOLDIERS ESCORTING CHINESE PRISONERS.]
During the progress of Chinese reverses at Wei-hai-wei, the excitement
in other Chinese cities was intense, increasing as the distance from
Wei-hai-wei decreased. Chefoo, the nearest treaty port and the home of
many foreigners, was in a tremor of fear. A bombardment or an invasion
of the city was dreaded from the victorious troops to the eastward, and
not the least danger was that from the Chinese troops who had been
disarmed and turned loose to make their way to Chefoo after the
surrender. The emperor was so incensed at the loss of Wei-hai-wei that
he took the unusual course of authorizing the governor of the Shantung
province to behead all fugitives without previously reporting to the
throne.
Wei-hai-wei will be remembered in the history of this war as the only
spot at which the progress of the Japanese was interrupted by serious
and prolonged resistance on the part of the enemy. Admiral Ting’s
bravery could scarcely be questioned, though his strategy might be. His
action in surrendering property was gravely censured, the general
opinion being that if he could no longer hold out he should have found
means to destroy the valuable stores in his control, instead of giving
them up to the conqueror. As a material result of the surrender other
than the strategic and moral effect, the Japanese acquired four large
ships left in serviceable condition, several gunboats and torpedo
crafts, fort artillery, and great stores of ammunition, food and coal.
The work of taking over the arsenal, island forts, and war ships was
completed by the Japanese without the least confusion. The ships which
needed repairs, including the ironclad Chen-Yuen, were temporarily
repaired at Wei-hai-wei, and then sailed for Japan with Japanese crews,
to go into dockyards for refitting. Marshal Oyama and his staff occupied
the Chinese government building. All of the foreigners who took part in
the defense of Wei-hai-wei, except the American Howie, were paroled and
sent to Chefoo in the steamship Kang Chi. This vessel also carried the
bodies of Admiral Ting and his fellow officers who committed suicide.
The Japanese fleet paid a touching tribute to the memory of their brave
opponents. As the Kang Chi steamed out of the harbor all the vessels had
their flags at half mast, and from Count Ito’s flag ship minute guns
were fired for some time after the vessel sailed. The European war ships
at Wei-hai-wei also lowered their flags, as a testimony to the bravery
exhibited by the late admiral.
Several junks arrived at Chefoo bringing soldiers from Wei-hai-wei. The
men all expressed astonishment at the consideration which the Japanese
had shown for them, and the tribute which their enemies paid to Admiral
Ting’s body had created a great impression on them.
It will be remembered that Howie was one of the Americans arrested early
in the war by the Japanese officials at Kobe. He was on his way to
China, under contract to destroy Japanese ships by means of a new
explosive whose secret he possessed. He was released at Kobe at the
intercession of the American minister to Japan, under the promise that
he would not assist the Chinese in the present war. He was detained at
Wei-hai-wei for a trial by court-martial, and it was believed that
unless his government interfered his punishment might be a severe one.
After the capture of Wei-hai-wei all efforts were directed by the
Japanese towards strengthening the land defenses and those on the
island. Fresh guns were mounted in many places. The island forts were
still manned by marines, while the mainland forts were each held by a
battalion of infantry, as well as by artillery men. The amount of stores
seized was so great that the troops had a superabundance of supplies.
The roads were patrolled for miles around. A civil commissioner was
appointed, and Marshal Oyama issued a proclamation assuring the
inhabitants of kind treatment and of his protection so long as they
followed peaceful pursuits. Inasmuch as no atrocities had been committed
and the Japanese did little looting, the confidence of the people was
retained and they continued their usual vocations. The Japanese withdrew
from the advanced positions east and west of Wei-hai-wei, evacuating the
town of Ning-Hai. A large part of the army then left for Talien-wan Bay.
THE END OF HOSTILE OPERATIONS.
--------------
The Armies in Manchooria and their Actions in the Cold of
January—Skirmish and Battle—Assault on Niuchwang and Capture of the
City—Desperate Fighting in the Streets—Taking of Ying-kow—A Threat
Towards Formosa—Attack on the Pescadore Islands—Capture of Hai-chow—The
Island of Thao-hua—Peking thought to Be in Danger From the Japanese.
We left the Chinese and Japanese troops in Manchooria centered about the
region around Niuchwang, trying to pass the cold weather with the least
suffering possible. There was no considerable interruption of time
between hostile encounters, possibly on the supposition that they could
keep warmer by fighting than by remaining idle. On the morning of the
17th of January the Chinese under General Chang and General Twi began
aggressive movements. Some twelve thousand strong they attacked
Hai-tcheng, but were repulsed after a short struggle. Five days later,
on the morning of the 22nd, the Chinese again attacked the Japanese
position, but were repulsed by two o’clock in the afternoon with heavy
loss. This was rather a long distance battle, with a good deal of
artillery practice in it. The Chinese worked their guns fairly well, but
could not compete with the Japanese gunners, who were the better
protected and suffered little. When the Chinese began the retreat, the
Japanese guns were moved forward and played upon the retiring enemy. The
Chinese then became demoralized, and made speedy retreat towards
Niuchwang. The Japanese loss was very slight.
On the same day as the last battle, simultaneously with the attack on
Hai-tcheng, General Seh with ten thousand men and a strong force of
artillery advanced from the port of Niuchwang against Kai-phing. An
artillery engagement ensued on the 24th of January, which ended in a
precipitate retreat of the Chinese.
General Nogi now moved forward his headquarters to Huntsai. The Chinese
army under General Seh was considerably reinforced, chiefly by Tartar
troops with large bodies of cavalry, and skirmishes with the Japanese
scouts were of daily occurrence. The strength of the enemy in the
immediate vicinity of Niuchwang was more than twenty thousand men. On
the 30th of January it was found that the Chinese had occupied Liao-Yang
in force, and that the western contingents were gradually advancing
southward. General Hoi-Pang-Tao was on his way to Ying-kow with a large
force. On the 1st of February the Viceroy Liu arrived at Niuchwang and
assumed the supreme command of the operations in Manchooria. He brought
with him an army said to number nearly twenty thousand, so that his
whole force numbered probably twice that many. It seemed certain that
the viceroy intended to advance against Hai-tcheng in full force. The
Japanese armies were also united, or in close touch with one another, at
Kai-phing and Hai-tcheng, ready for a decisive battle. February 16 a
Chinese army of fifteen thousand men attacked Hai-tcheng from Liao-Yang
and the Niuchwang road. The fighting lasted three hours, and extended
over a considerable tract of country. The attack was successfully
repulsed, one hundred and fifty Chinese being killed and wounded, and
the Japanese loss considerably less than that number.
The news of the capture of Wei-hai-wei reached the Japanese and Chinese
forces in Manchooria, and the Viceroy Liu was evidently disheartened,
for there was an entire absence of activity during the next ten days.
The incessant drilling in the neighborhood of Niuchwang was stopped, and
the forces were steadily dwindling through desertion. On the last day of
February, after a period of comparative inaction, the Japanese troops
began an advance on Niuchwang and its port Ying-kow. On that day General
Nodzu attacked the Chinese positions between the Liao-Yang and the
Niuchwang roads. The Japanese artillery first opened a heavy fire upon
the Chinese. This lasted over an hour, and then the fifth Japanese
brigade threw itself upon the Chinese right wing with such impetuosity
that the enemy scarcely made a stand in that part of the field, but
broke and fled in disorder. While this was going on, the main Japanese
column under General Nodzu marched against the Chinese center, which
rested on the village of Chang-ho-tai. Position after position was
carried by the Japanese infantry, and the enemy was finally driven in
disorderly retreat northwestward towards Kinchow city, at the northern
extremity of the Gulf of Liao-Tung.
The sixth brigade had been told off to clear the Chinese out of the
villages along the Laio-Yang road. This it accomplished without loss,
and then by pre-arrangement it joined hands with the main column, the
combined forces thereafter occupying Tung-yeng-tai and all the villages
and heights near that place, in the direction of Liao-Yang. General
Nodzu’s division extended its line southwestward from Hai-tcheng, so
that the army extended through a very wide front. The Chinese forces
engaged numbered about eighteen thousand men with twenty guns. General
Yih was in command. They lost one hundred and fifty men killed, and
about two hundred wounded. The Japanese losses amounted to about half as
many.
[Illustration: CHINESE SOLDIERS ON THE MARCH.]
Early the next morning the Japanese resumed their advance, this time
without opposition of any sort. The Chinese retired before them, and
when night fell the Japanese limit extended nearly to Maitzu. Throughout
the advance upon Niuchwang there was no opposition offered worthy the
name, and the annals of the march bring little fame to the Japanese
defense.
The reconnoissances eastward and northward made by General Nodzu’s
scouts on Friday, March 1st, brought the information that the main body
of the Chinese forces had fled by the northern road, with the evident
intention of rallying and making another stand at Liao-Yang, the only
place of importance between Hai-tcheng and Mukden. Lieutenant-General
Katsura’s brigade was ordered to pursue the enemy. By that evening the
troops had covered about eight miles of difficult ground, and had got
within a mile of Kan-thouan-phu, where several thousand Chinese were
known to be ready to give battle. The Japanese advanced against the town
at daybreak, only to find that the enemy had fled during the night.
After resting his troops Katsura resumed the pursuit. It was thought
that the Chinese would make a stand at Sha-ho-phu, a small town situated
on the river Sha and commanding the high road to Liao-Yang, but the
place was occupied by the Japanese on Sunday, March 3, without serious
opposition. The next morning Katsura moved on until within five miles of
Liao-Yang, which brought him within forty miles of Mukden.
While Katsura was driving the routed Chinese before him along the Mukden
road, General Nodzu with all the remaining forces at his disposal was
moving towards Niuchwang Old Town. The troops were under arms at dawn on
Monday. The fifth division moved against the town from the southeast,
while the third division came from the north. The movement was admirably
timed, despite the difficulties of the ground. In three hours the men of
both divisions were in position, and at ten o’clock a heavy shell fire
was opened upon the Chinese fortifications. The Chinese appeared to be
confused; their artillery fire was bad, and they kept massing troops at
points which were never threatened. Many of their guns were dismounted,
and after a two hours’ bombardment the Chinese abandoned the walls and
retreated into the town. The Japanese infantry then poured into the
place, both divisions forcing their way into the gates and over the
walls almost simultaneously.
So far the Japanese had suffered very little loss. The leading brigade
of the first division charged several Chinese regiments still standing
their ground, and they at once fled precipitately towards Ying-kow,
followed by the Japanese cavalry. Meantime, in the town the Japanese
infantry were warmly engaged. The main body of the Chinese, when driven
from the batteries and walls, had taken refuge in the narrow streets and
houses. Every window and every housetop was occupied by sharpshooters.
The fighting was of a desperate character. The Chinese seeing all hopes
of escape cut off, fought until they were shot or cut down. The headway
made by the Japanese was painfully slow. Each street had to be
effectually cleared before an advance could be made to the next. Each
house had to be assaulted and taken.
Throughout the day the fighting continued, but slowly the Japanese
cordon was brought more closely around the center of the city, and by
eleven o’clock at night all opposition had ceased. Many of the Chinese,
after nightfall broke through the Japanese lines, and made their escape
into the open country, but a large number accepted quarter and remained
in the hands of the Japanese. The Chinese fought with desperate valor.
Repeatedly they charged the Japanese troops in the streets, and
hand-to-hand fighting was frequent. The officers too, encouraged the men
by their own example, and the defense of the streets was conducted with
some military skill. Nearly two thousand Chinese killed and wounded were
found in the houses and streets, and six hundred prisoners were taken.
The Japanese losses exceeded five hundred in killed and wounded. A large
quantity of stores and provisions fell into the hands of the victors,
beside eighteen cannon, and a large quantity of rifles and ammunition.
After the engagement of the 4th, Lieutenant-General Yamaji’s division of
the second Japanese army advanced upon Peh-mia-totsu, where it had been
reported that the main body of General Sung’s defeated forces had
halted. The enemy, however, did not wait for the Japanese troops, but
fell back upon Ying-kow. General Nogi, following close along the coast
road, came up with the Chinese and attacked them. During the fighting
which ensued the Chinese were reinforced from Ying-kow, but they were
soon driven back under the protection of the town batteries, leaving
many dead upon the field. Most of the Chinese retreated in a
northeasterly direction, but General Sung and troops immediately under
his command made another stand at Ying-kow. The Japanese artillery was
well handled, and the infantry fought with great spirit, driving the
Chinese before them. By the time the town was entered General Sung and
his troops had fled towards Chen-sho-tai. Meanwhile the Japanese
artillery had concentrated their fire upon the shore forts, which
protected the estuary. The Chinese brought their heavy guns to bear upon
the assailants, and held their own for some time, but finally the
Japanese infantry under cover of the fire of their artillery, carried
the forts one after the other, and by nightfall Ying-kow was in
undisputed possession of the invaders.
As soon as the fort had been captured, guards were placed for the
protection of the foreign settlement, and the streets were strongly
patrolled. Scouts were sent out along the Niuchwang road to meet General
Nodzu’s patrol. On the morning of the 6th, General Nodzu sent a brigade
towards Ying-kow, which the second army was to attack that day.
Tung-kia-thun was found destitute of Chinese troops, and the Japanese
advanced nearly to Kao-khan without seeing anything of the enemy. Here
they camped for the night, and before morning the outposts of the two
forces had met and had exchanged the good news of the success of each.
The retreating Chinese, under Generals Sung and Ma, were reported to
have halted at Chen-sho-tai.
The occupation of Niuchwang and its port by the Japanese marked a
distinct phase in the interesting campaign in Manchooria. For many weeks
Niuchwang and Ying-kow had sheltered the Chinese army. From them a
succession of feeble attacks upon the Chinese positions had been
delivered. General Sung’s unwieldy forces were now broken up; the
Japanese front was advanced to the river Liao; and the first and second
armies had joined hands. The third important fortified harbor had fallen
into the hands of the Japanese. The defense of Niuchwang was maintained
with vigor, the Chinese fighting most bitterly to the very end, but
uselessly. The coast defenses too at Ying-kow made some show of
resistance, but being attacked in the rear had quickly fallen in
accordance with all established precedents.
The general situation in Manchooria was now entirely changed. The
Japanese encouraged by the half-hearted attacks to which they had been
subjected, had broken up the forces in their vicinity. The difficulties
of movement in large bodies, combined with the incapacity of commanders,
and general disorganization, had effectually prevented the Chinese from
gaining any advantage from their superior numbers. Niuchwang, a city of
sixty thousand people, a town with an immense annual trade, had fallen
into Japanese hands, and its capture was unquestionably an important
stroke. On the Japanese right Katsura had pushed forward until he was
near Liao-Yang, and after the occupation of Niuchwang relieved some of
the troops there, another brigade moved northward to his support. The
country centering at Niuchwang was practically in undisputed possession
of the Japanese. Thus, after a march of about four hundred miles, the
troops of the first army which landed at Chemulpo were once again on the
sea-board, and in possession of an important port.
[Illustration:
CHINESE SOLDIER LADEN WITH PROVISIONS,
SHOWING WINTER DRESS.
]
On the 9th of March the first division of the first Japanese army
attacked Thien-chuang-thai, on the western side of the river Liao, to
which place General Sung fled after the capture of Ying-kow. A fierce
engagement ensued, lasting three hours and a half. The main body of the
Chinese force numbered seven thousand men with thirty guns, and the
Japanese forces were but few less than that number. General Katsura
commanded the Japanese center, and General Oku the right wing. The left
wing was composed of Yamaji’s troops from Kai-phing. The Chinese fled
towards Kinchow, leaving fourteen hundred dead on the field. For
strategic reasons the village was burned, and the Japanese returned
across the river.
A proclamation was issued by the Japanese commander at Ying-kow urging
the inhabitants to continue their peaceful pursuits, promising all
law-abiding inhabitants justice and protection, and warning them of the
consequences should they commit any belligerent acts or create any
disorders. The commanders of the foreign war ships in the river called
on the Japanese general, and asked him to telegraph to their respective
admirals that all the foreigners in the town were safe. The general
complied with this request, as well as with that of the consuls who
asked him to telegraph in the same way to their governments. All Chinese
were strictly prohibited from entering the European quarter, unless
employed by or having business with the foreign residents. Six hundred
troops were told off to carry this order into effect and to patrol the
streets. English and American officers united to express their thanks to
the commanding general, for the elaborate precautions taken to insure
the safety of foreigners.
It will be remembered that from the very beginning of the war a Japanese
descent upon Formosa was one of the operations expected and frequently
reported. To provide against this threatened danger, a large body of the
famous troops from the south of China known as the Black Flags, were
sent to the island to intrench themselves and arrange for its defense.
They were scarcely settled in comfort when they began a series of
outrages on the native population that made them feared and hated by
every one, and justified their name. Early in February they extended
their outrages from the native population to the British residents.
Disturbances on the island increased, and affairs became so bad that
foreign residents became alarmed and left in haste. The British consul
at the chief treaty-port of the island, sent to Hong Kong an urgent call
for assistance, which was furnished without delay. The war ship Mercury
left for the island in haste, and its presence acted strongly to quell
the disturbances and insure safety for the people. A Japanese squadron
too, which was seen patroling the island on several occasions, acted as
a damper upon the spirits of the rioters, and the Chinese authorities
themselves were able to quell the disturbance. Twenty-five of the ring
leaders were arrested and punished, and peace was restored.
After this time, operations in the south were abandoned until early in
the spring, when a fleet of Japanese transports moved down the west side
of the island of Formosa, to the group of small islands known as the
Pescadores, between Formosa and the mainland. The Chinese feared that an
attack upon Canton was contemplated, but in reality there was at no time
any considerable danger of this. The Japanese desired to be exceedingly
careful of the interest of all foreign nations in the treaty ports, and
so naturally avoided an attack on any city where they might be
endangered. The real point of attack intended by this course, was the
town of Makung, in the southwest of the island of Pong-hu, the largest
of the group. Makung had a large and absolutely safe harbor, capable of
affording accommodations for vessels of large draft, and was protected
by its citadel and a line of defensive works. Admiral Ito was in command
of the squadron, which numbered nine cruisers and two gunboats.
Bombardment was begun March 23, from all the vessels of the fleet, the
fire centering on the east fort, which dominated the others. A thousand
troops from five transports landed simultaneously and attacked the same
fort. The Chinese evacuated the place during the night, and the Japanese
entered at 6:00 o’clock on the morning of the 24th, and turned the guns
upon the other forts. One of the western forts blew up before it was
evacuated. One thousand Chinese prisoners were taken, the rest of the
garrison escaping in junks. Three thousand Japanese troops now
garrisoned Pong-hu, securing a southern base of operations for the
Japanese fleet. Within a few days the Japanese were in entire possession
of the Pescadore Islands.
South of Yung-tcheng Bay, the Chinese coast line had remained inviolate
up to this period of the war, in spite of frequent rumors from startled
Chinese sources, of the appearance of Japanese squadrons and their
threatened attack. The Japanese fleet had been profitably used to foster
a continual state of nervous terror in all the Chinese coast cities, but
attention was now turned suddenly in a very different direction, and
actively developed towards the southward. Simultaneously with the attack
on Pong-hu, the Japanese on the 24th of March made a descent upon
Hai-chow, on the sea-board of the province of Chiang-su, some two
hundred miles north of Shanghai. It was early in the morning when the
Japanese squadron appeared off Hai-chow and at once opened fire upon the
small forts there. Under cover of the bombardment a force of several
thousand Japanese troops, landed and attacked the Chinese positions.
After a few hours’ fighting, the stout resistance of the Chinese proved
unavailing, and they abandoned their works, having lost some three
hundred killed. The island of Yuchow, which lies off Hai-chow had
already been occupied by the invaders. At Hai-chow the Japanese were
less than fifty miles in a direct line from the Grand Canal connecting
Nanking with Peking, which at this point approaches nearest to the
coast. The canal had been the chief route by which supplies were
conveyed to Peking, and had been of invaluable service for the movement
of troops to the capital and to the front by way of Tien-tsin. The
threatened dash of the Japanese upon this main artery of travel startled
those who realized it. This sudden and unexpected descent upon the
Chinese coast served to bring home the realities of war to a section of
the population which probably had never heard of the Japanese successes.
The Viceroy of Nanking awakened to his danger, and hastily ordered
troops to the front to oppose the Japanese advance and recapture
Hai-chow.
A third portion of the Japanese fleet, with war ships and transports,
appeared simultaneously with these other operations, sailing past Taku
into the neighborhood of Shan-hai-kwan. Passing the latter city, which
marks the end of the Great Wall of China where it comes down to the
coast, the fleet left terror behind, and moved upon the island of
Thao-hua. This island lies but a few miles off the mainland, and
fifty-five miles northeast of Shan-hai-kwan, at a point where the main
highway from Manchooria to Peking lies close to the coast line. It was
therefore about half way between Niuchwang and Taku, the port of Peking,
and an excellent base for offensive operations against the capital.
The armies in Manchooria were practically idle during the latter part of
March. The Chinese had nearly all withdrawn to Kinchow, in the north,
while the Japanese contented themselves with restoring order in
Niuchwang and Ying-kow, and in completing the military arrangements
consequent on the junction of the armies. Snowstorms prevented an
intended advanced towards Kinchow.
[Illustration: GAP IN THE GREAT WALL AT SHAN-HAI-KWAN.]
The first of April therefore found the Japanese ready to act on the
offensive at several points, spread over a distance of one thousand two
hundred miles, and extending from the Pescadore Islands in the south to
Niuchwang in the north. On the Liao River the combined forces numbered
nearly forty thousand men, with a further strength of some ten thousand
men on the Laio-Tung peninsula at Kinchow, Talien-wan and Port Arthur.
The whole of these troops could be transported to Shan-hai-kwan in
twenty-four hours, as soon as the port of Ying-kow was free from ice.
There were no troops to be spared from the garrisons at Port Arthur or
Wei-hai-wei, but further levies would undoubtedly be brought from
Hiroshima to these places to await transport. The distance to
Shan-hai-kwan from all these ports were short so that the troops could
be closely packed for the short voyage. In a few days therefore, at
least seventy-five thousand men could be concentrated at Shan-hai-kwan
and the transports would be available for maintaining a supply service.
At the same time the possession of the island of Chao-hua would
facilitate the cutting of the line of Chinese communications between
Manchooria and Peking. With Hai-chow held by the Japanese and
threatening the line of communication from south to north by the Grand
Canal and Japanese forces threatening Formosa and the south, the
possibility of the repulse of an advance in force on Peking seemed very
slight. It was the approach of these dangers and the final certainty
that nothing else could be done to avert them that brought the Chinese
at last to humiliate themselves and sue for peace at the hands of the
Japanese.
THE NEGOTIATIONS FOR PEACE.
--------------
John W. Foster in Japan—Failure of a Peace Embassy—Diplomatic
Discussions—Foolish Pride—Li Hung Chang Again in Favor—His
Journey—The Viceroy Knew China—The Envoy in Japan—Attempted
Murder—The Mikado’s Appeal—What the Assault Indicated—Declaration
of the Armistice—Provisions of the Armistice—Continuing
Negotiations—Signing the Treaty—Its Terms—No Alliance of China and
Japan—The Mikado Proclaims—Peacefulness Enjoined—What of the
Future?—Ultimate Effect of the War.
While the war operations during the first three months of 1895 were in
progress, peace negotiations too were actively under way. The annals of
the hostilities which have occupied the last few chapters might have
been interrupted by paragraphs telling of the progress and defeat of
different efforts to secure peace; but it seemed more intelligible to
the prospective reader to place him in full possession of the
particulars of the military affairs as they developed, without
interruption. Not until the end had nearly come did the peace
negotiations for one moment interrupt hostilities, and there was
consequently no need to interrupt the consecutive record. It now remains
a final task to outline the various peace negotiations after those that
have already been described, and follow oriental diplomacy to its
conclusion.
We left the Chinese peace envoys lingering at Shanghai in January, after
several weeks of idleness resulting from continual postponement of their
departure. At last the imperial government abandoned its hope that
something would intervene to destroy the necessity of a suit for peace,
and the embassy was ordered to start. The Chinese peace envoys arrived
at Kobe January 30, and were received by the Secretary of the Foreign
Department. When the envoys came ashore, a mob greeted them with hostile
demonstrations and they had to be protected by a large force of police.
After consulting with Mr. Foster, their American adviser who had reached
Kobe several days before, the envoys left in a special steamer for
Ujina. The general tenor of Japanese opinion was that the negotiation
would prove fruitless, as China was scarcely ready to accede to the
Japanese demand. It was acknowledged however, that the present embassy
showed a much more sincere desire for peace on the part of China than
did the Detring mission which resulted in such a fiasco.
Ex-Secretary Foster was treated with especial courtesy during his stay
at Tokio and Kobe. Mr. Foster exchanged many telegrams with the Chinese
government in reference to the power and authority of Chang and Shao,
the Chinese peace commissioners, regarding which the Japanese were all
along very doubtful. The diplomatic contest promised to be stubborn.
China did not seem to realize that Japan would demand a cession of
territory, and it was anticipated that the humiliation of losing any of
her continental domain would be more than she was willing to endure. Mr.
Foster was frankly given to understand that unless ample powers were
guaranteed by their credentials the envoys would not even be admitted to
a hearing.
Count Ito and Viscount Mutsu who were appointed to treat with the
Chinese peace envoys, received the credentials which were presented them
as coming from the emperor of China, and found them to read as follows:
“By decree we appoint you our plenipotentiaries, to meet and negotiate
the matter with the plenipotentiaries appointed by Japan. You will,
however, telegraph to the Tsung-li Yamen for the purpose of obtaining
our commands, by which you will abide. The members of your mission are
placed under your control. You will conduct the mission in a faithful
and diligent manner, and fulfill the trust reposed in you. Respect
this.”
It was immediately officially announced that the plenary powers with
which the mikado’s government demanded that the Chinese envoys should be
invested, were found to be utterly defective. The envoys were therefore
refused further negotiations, and were requested to leave Japan without
delay. It was believed by many that the Chinese envoys were quite
ignorant of the trick that had been played upon them by their
government. They supposed that they had been given full powers to treat
for peace, but they found that not only had they no power either to
conclude or sign a treaty, but that their credentials did not even
contain an intimation of the purpose of the mission which they had to
Japan. The ministers, however, told them that Japan was willing to
reopen negotiations with a properly empowered embassy. The envoys
therefore left Hiroshima after two days in the Japanese city, and
returned home via Nagasaki.
The rebuff sustained by the Chinese envoys created some astonishment
among the highest officials in Peking, but not much apparent concern.
Just at this time, early in February, they were having glowing reports
from General Sung in Manchooria. He claimed to have already beaten the
Japanese on many occasions, and promised if well supplied with men and
stores to drive every invader from Chinese soil. Japan’s excuse for
refusing to treat with the envoys, scarcely satisfied some export
diplomats. It was insisted that it would have been very unusual for any
government to endow its agents with final powers as long as it was able
to communicate with them daily and hourly if necessary by cable. The
Chinese government once gave final powers to one of its ambassadors who
went over to Russia to negotiate a boundary treaty, and his head would
have been amputated when he returned to Peking, had it not been for the
intercession of the Russian ambassador, who suggested that his
government would resent such punishment inflicted upon a person so
recently honored by the Czar. He offered at the same time to consider
the treaty suspended, until the Chinese authorities might have an
opportunity to examine it and suggest any changes they might like to
have made. After this experience it was not likely that the emperor of
China would confer final powers upon any ambassador. It was asserted
that since modern forms of communication had been introduced, it has not
been the custom to give final powers to agents who visit civilized
nations. Therefore it was assumed that the objection raised in Japan to
the credentials of the Chinese envoys was a diplomatic ruse for the
purpose of gaining time for the Japanese generals to reach Peking. This
was disproven by the cessation of efforts, which Japan might have made
to reach Peking, but it may have been true that Japan wished to bring
China into still further distress, so that her demands would be more
surely granted.
The very important action was now taken by the Chinese emperor of
restoring to Li Hung Chang all his honors which had been taken away,
because of the succession of defeats in the early weeks of the war, and
appointing him imperial commissioner to negotiate for peace with Japan.
China then requested that the Japanese peace commissioners might meet Li
Hung Chang at Port Arthur to conduct the negotiations at that place. A
prompt reply was received from Hiroshima, in which the Japanese
government absolutely declined to treat anywhere but upon Japanese soil.
The Grand Council of the Chinese empire met on Sunday, February 24, and
deliberated for several hours upon the question, “Shall the war with
Japan be prolonged or shall we treat for peace?” It was resolved that
before the council took a final decision, the same question should be
put to all the provincial authorities, from the first to the third rank
inclusive. Their opinion was urgently demanded by telegraph. The replies
received were nearly all to the effect, that although the war was
unjustly provoked by Japan, it was very desirable that peace should be
concluded. Some of the replies, however, declared that the terms of
peace should not be too exacting. China had learned something by her
failures of two peace missions, Detring’s and the last embassy.
One of the ancient Chinese methods of waging battle was to play “Soft,
voluptuous airs to melt the heart of the enemy.” How far China had
advanced in practical wisdom might be gathered from her latest
diplomatic manœuver which seemed to indicate that the Chinese
diplomacy of the present followed the military usages of antiquity. Ever
since the eventual triumph of the Japanese became a moral certainty,
China had been given vague intimations of a desire to secure peace.
These intimations unaccompanied by any definite terms were steadfastly
ignored by Japan, until the Chinese government gave notice that it had
sent a peace commission to the mikado. When the useless credentials of
these commissioners were examined in Japan, they were turned back
without consideration, and the Chinese pretended surprise at the
treatment, asserting that Japan was simply seeking to further humiliate
the empire. To unbiased observers it seemed quite as reasonable to
believe that the Chinese were playing to gain time, meanwhile assailing
the enemy with the “soft, voluptuous music of peace.” This policy of
antiquated diplomacy was terminated abruptly.
Li Hung Chang’s star was again in the ascendant. Even as he journeyed
towards Peking his calumniators continued their attacks. In Shanghai it
was positively asserted that he was now given a chance to accomplish
what he had long awaited, the overthrow of the Manchoorian dynasty in
China. It was also declared that Kung, the disgraced Ex-Taotai of Port
Arthur, had made a confession showing the traitorous designs of Li. It
was said that Li had been leagued with the officials of the palace at
Peking for the overthrow of the dynasty, ever since he was deprived of
his yellow jacket, his peacock feather, and his various offices. All
this now had no weight. The privy council heartily supported Li’s
mission to Japan. Prince Kung silenced all opposition to it by
presenting papers showing that the previous failure was due to a
backward policy, for which the council were themselves to blame, and
exonerating the viceroy. The emperor completely vindicated Li Hung
Chang, confessing that he had tried others and found him alone
trustworthy. He therefore granted him the fullest powers to deal with
the Japanese. The central government publicly assumed the entire
responsibility for the condition of the national defense, explaining it
as the result of blindness to the progress of other nations. This placed
future reforms in the hands of Li.
The American minister at Peking assumed a personal interest in the
matter at this point, and telegraphed to Japan the text of Li Hung
Chang’s proposed credentials. At last, after a tedious exchange of
messages, the credentials were accepted by Japan and arrangements were
made for the journey of the envoy. Li Hung Chang was received in
audience by the emperor and the dowager empress five times within as
many days, and in his conversations with them spoke frankly of the
condition of the empire. His powers to negotiate were made complete, his
commission bore the emperor’s signature, and on the fifth day of March
he left Peking for Japan.
There were signs at last that the Chinese were beginning to recognize
the imperative necessity of concluding peace with Japan. With their
strongholds in Japanese hands and their fleet practically annihilated,
the sooner they made submission the more easy would be the terms which
they could obtain. It was therefore gratifying to all friends of the
empire to learn that the viceroy had been appointed as envoy to proceed
to Japan to discuss terms of peace. Holding a position second only to
that of the emperor himself, it was impossible that the Japanese should
refuse to treat with him on account of his inferior station, or his
insufficient credentials. His mission was the first genuine attempt that
China had made to open negotiations. It was a proof that Chinese pride
and obstinacy had at length been overcome, and that there was a real
willingness to take steps calculated to bring the disastrous war to a
close.
But for the messenger himself! Surely history, which delights in setting
at naught the hopes and filling the fears of men, never saw a sadder
faring forth than the journey of Li Hung Chang to Japan. He was old now,
paralytic, his side and arm half useless, his eyesight dim, his family
long since gone, and all the fabric of empire to which his life had been
given in ruins about him. He saved it once before in straits as great.
He of Honan, Honan men about him, all come down from the central hills
of China, sturdy and tall above the men of the plains whom they swept
aside, Gordon and Ward aiding, leading and winning the early battles,
but the work in the end done, and the rich harvest reaped by those sons
of Honan whom Li Hung Chang found poor among their fields of tea and
millet, and raised to half the posts of honor in China. That was thirty
years ago. The great work spread and grew. The old boundaries of the
empire were regained. The Russian advance in Asia retired for the first
time in two centuries. On the Amoor it was halted. France retired
discomfited. England treated Chinese frontiers with a new respect. In
Burmah, in Siam, in Nepaul, Chinese aid was sought. The big empire was
never so big, never looked so strong, never had more deference or outer
respect since the days of the great Tai-Tsung, when China ruled from the
Pacific to the boundary of the Roman empire, and the Roman empire
extended to the Atlantic—two realms between the two oceans.
Through it all one man knew how hollow it was, Li Hung Chang. He pleaded
for railroads and telegraphs. He bought war ships and ironclads. He
urged that the old policy be reversed and the military and naval forces
of the empire duly organized. For years he had seen the cloud gathering,
and in the great quagmire of Chinese corruption and conservatism sought
to make ready for it. It had been in vain. Army, fleet, and court had
collapsed. Corea and Manchooria were conquered. If Peking was not
occupied it was because Japan wished to leave some semblance of central
authority with which to treat. Any war-fine could be levied by the
victors; any vassalage exacted of the vanquished. Port Arthur could be
made a Gibraltar. The policy of Peking could be controlled by Japan.
Japan would dominate the Asiatic seacoast. The Japanese ambassador at
Peking would be supreme whenever his government chose to speak.
All this was in the mind of the paralytic old man as he journeyed by
land and sea. For forty years he had greatly ruled, a great empire was
the greater for his work, and it had all come to this. Were the French
tri-color to be near Berlin, and Bismarck wearily seeking peace at
Paris, the tragedy were no less than that with Li Hung Chang as its
central figure in the east.
Li Hung Chang spent a few days at Tien-tsin, and then passed on down the
river to Taku, whence he sailed with his suite on March 15 for
Shimonoseki. The viceroy sailed in royal state, with a suite of one
hundred and thirty persons in two vessels. On the morning of the 19th
they reached their destination in Japan. Shimoneseki is on the extreme
southwestern coast of Japan and it was here that in the early '60s the
foreign powers forced Japan to assent to certain indemnities demanded of
the empire. Upon arriving, the envoy was immediately visited by the
representatives of the Japanese foreign office, and later Li Hung Chang
accompanied by his American adviser, John W. Foster, visited the
Japanese minister of foreign affairs. This was the first time in his
life that the venerable statesman of China had ever set his foot on
other than Chinese soil.
The viceroy and his party were escorted to the foreign office by Mr.
Inouye, who cordially greeted the statesman, and placed his services at
his disposal. The party was received on landing by a guard of honor, and
was taken to the foreign office in carriages under escort. The following
day was spent by the peace envoys in examining each other’s credentials
and powers. Both sides devoted much time and thought to this matter and
were assisted by experts in matters of diplomacy and etiquette.
The Chinese letter of credential proved to be precisely what might have
been expected from Chinese character. The phraseology had been
repeatedly discussed through the ministers of the United States in Tokio
and Peking and a form satisfactory to Japan agreed upon. Whether
intentionally or not the Chinese had given more than one indication of
waywardness in preparing the document. They were very particular in
honoring their emperor with his proper title but they did not insert
that of the emperor of Japan. Moreover they used an expression
signifying that it was in consequence of Japan’s desire for peace that
an ambassador was sent. This was not allowed to pass uncorrected. As
finally amended the paper was virtually in accordance with Japan’s
dictation.
In the end all the documents were found to be in due form, and polite
notes to this effect were exchanged. Subsequently Li Hung Chang and his
suite went ashore.
The viceroy was received with a military salute, and all the honors due
to his exalted rank. He proceeded to the chief hotel, where
accommodation had been prepared for him and part of his suite. Further
communications passed on the morning of March 21, and at half past two
in the afternoon the first business conference in connection with the
peace negotiations began, Li Hung Chang, Count Ito, Viscount Mutsu, and
their secretaries, together with the sworn interpreters being present.
The deliberations which were conducted in secret, lasted for an hour and
a half. There was much diplomatic fencing, Li Hung Chang being evidently
anxious to ascertain at the earliest possible moment the terms upon
which an armistice might be granted. Nothing occurred to suggest the
possibility of a break down of the negotiations, and some gratifying
progress was made towards a general understanding.
It must be remembered that during all this time there was no cessation
in the war operations which were going on in Manchooria and on the
Chinese coast. Fresh troops were being hurried forward from Japan for
active service, and the war spirit gave no sign of subsidence. In
Yokohama the success of the peace negotiations was regarded as doubtful.
The military element, which was all in favor of the continuance of the
war until the victory of the Japanese was made complete by the capture
of Peking, had at that time a predominant voice in Japanese politics,
and this feeling was reflected in parliament. Notice was given in the
house of representatives of a resolution declaring that the time for
peace negotiations had not arrived.
While negotiations were thus progressing, they were interrupted by an
incident that amazed and shocked the civilized world. As Li Hung Chang
was returning to his lodgings on March 24, after having attended a
conference with the Japanese peace plenipotentiaries, he was attacked by
a young Japanese who sought to murder him. The young man’s name was
Koyama Rokunosuki, and he was but twenty-one years of age. The bullet
struck the Chinese envoy in the cheek, and it was believed that the
result would not be serious. The news of the attempt at assassination
created much excitement in Japan, in China, and in the western world.
The ministers of state and other officials visited Li Hung Chang without
delay, to express their deep sorrow at the occurrence. Every precaution
was taken by the police and military to prevent any trouble. The mikado
was deeply grieved at the affair, and sent his two chief court
physicians, Surgeons Sato and Ishiguro, to attend the Chinese envoy. The
bullet entered the cheek half an inch under the left eye, and penetrated
to a depth of nearly an inch and a half. The Chinese plenipotentiary
strongly objected to undergoing an operation for its removal. The
empress of Japan, to show her own regret, sent two nurses to assume the
care of the old man, and from every side letters and telegrams of regret
and sympathy arrived in great quantities.
Beside the physicians, the mikado sent the imperial chamberlain to
convey his condolences to the viceroy, and to the public he issued the
following proclamation:
“A state of war exists between our country and China, but she with due
regard of international forms and usages sent an ambassador to sue for
peace. We therefore appointed plenipotentiaries, instructing them to
meet and negotiate at Shimonoseki. It was consequently incumbent upon
us, in pursuance of international etiquette, to extend to the Chinese
ambassador treatment consistent with the national honor, providing him
ample escort and protection. Hence we issued special commands to our
officials to exercise the utmost vigilance in all respects. It is
therefore a source of profound grief and regret to us, that a ruffian
should have been found base enough to inflict personal injury on the
Chinese ambassador. Our officials will sentence the culprit to the
utmost punishment provided by the law. We hereby command our officials
and subjects to respect our wish, and to preserve our country’s fair
fame from impairment by strictly guarding against a recurrence of such
deeds of violence and lawlessness.”
The would-be assassin belonged to the class known as the Soshis, or
political bravos, who are always ripe for any acts of riot or violence.
When the attack was made, Li Hung Chang was in a palanquin being
conveyed to his hotel from conference with the Japanese negotiators. He
had nearly reached the house, when a young man rushed out of the crowd,
and seizing the hand of one of the carriers in order to stop the
palanquin fired his pistol almost point blank at the Chinese
plenipotentiary. There was little room for hesitation as to his motives.
He was a fanatic who thought to serve his country by murdering the
Chinese statesman. No delusion, it is hardly necessary to say, could be
more gross than such a one. The criminal had done a grievous injury to
his country and its government. Japan had striven long, earnestly, and
successfully, to earn the reputation of a civilized state. Nobody of
course should be unjust enough to upbraid her with the conduct of an
irresponsible and apparently an isolated malefactor. Individuals with
ferocious passions and ill-balanced minds are to be found in all
countries, and such a crime as this, deplorable and unusual though it
was, might have occurred in any European capital or our own capital city
under similar conditions. Nevertheless, there were those who chose to
take it as an index of national feeling condemning the country for the
act of one. The manner of the expressions of regret that came so
universally from every Japanese voice seemed to offer sufficient
disclaimer against the existence of any such a cruel sentiment.
Resolutions were presented in the Japanese diet expressing deep regret
at the attempt upon the life of the Chinese plenipotentiary, and the
native newspapers were unanimous and sincere in the same expressions. It
had to be recognized, however, that an element existed among such people
as the Soshis, inclined to violence under such circumstances, and
precautions were doubled. No government is adequate to control
fanaticism of the extremer sort, and the attempt upon the life of Li
Hung Chang was a symptom of the frenzy which had been engendered in a
large element of the Japanese people by the war. It was now learned for
the first time that Mr. Detring was attacked by a Soshi in November, but
was defended by the police. He kept silence in order to avoid
embittering the situation.
The immediate effect on the negotiations of the attempted assassination
of Li Hung Chang was that the emperor of Japan on March 29, declared an
unconditional armistice. This was avowedly done because of the attack on
the Chinese plenipotentiary and was so declared in notifications which
were sent to all countries and to all Japanese legations. The language
of the notification thus sent out was as follows: “On the opening of the
negotiations the Japanese plenipotentiary proposed armistice, which
Japan was willing to accept on certain conditions. While this
negotiation was going on, the untoward event happened on the person of
the Chinese plenipotentiary. His majesty, the emperor, in view of this
unhappy occurrence, commanded the Japanese plenipotentiaries to consent
to a temporary armistice without conditions. This was communicated to
the Chinese plenipotentiary.”
It was now felt that the power of the Japanese government to execute the
armistice would be put a critical test. The military power of Japan, in
the judgment of many intelligent observers, had almost outstripped the
civil power during the war. This had caused serious concern as it was
feared that the military element backed by the war spirit among the
people would not submit to an armistice even if the civil authorities
ordered one. To meet this emergency a change of army commanders was made
early in March. There had been three army corps operating in different
campaigns and each under a general of supreme authority over his
particular campaign. Prince Komatsu was created commander-in-chief over
all armies in anticipation of an armistice. The purpose of this step was
to concentrate authority in one man in close touch with the imperial
household who could thus execute an armistice by a simultaneous
cessation of hostilities by the three armies. It now remained to be seen
whether Prince Komatsu could execute the important commission given to
him. The splendid discipline shown by the army during the war gave
assurance that there would be immediate acquiescence by the military,
and yet Prince Komatsu had to contend against a war spirit inflamed by
many victories. It had been said that an armistice would be so unpopular
among the people and soldiery that it would insure the political
retirement of Japan’s two chief statesmen, Count Ito and Viscount Matsu,
who had served as peace envoys.
On the opening of the negotiations, after the arrival of Li Hung Chang
at Shimonoseki, the Japanese plenipotentiaries at first proposed the
following conditions for the conclusion of an armistice:—The occupation
of Shan-hai-kwan, Taku, and Tien-tsin by Japanese troops; Japanese
control of the uncompleted railroad from Shan-hai-kwan to Tien-tsin and
custody of the various forts and fortifications, together with the arms
and ammunition; the payment by China of the war contributions required
for such occupation.
Li Hung Chang sought to obtain more moderate conditions, but the
Japanese plenipotentiaries refused, and it was then proposed to continue
the negotiations without a suspension of hostilities. This was the stage
which the negotiations had reached at the third conference, when the
attempt was made on the life of Viceroy Li. In view of this circumstance
the emperor of Japan waiving the conditions previously made ordered the
Japanese plenipotentiaries to consent to an armistice until the 20th of
April. The armistice was to apply to the forces in Manchooria and in the
circuit around the Gulf of Pechili, including the two great
promontories, but did not include any operations to the south of that
region. Neither government was to be prevented from making any new
distribution or disposition of their troops not intended to augment the
armies in the field. The movement of troops and the transport of goods
contraband of war by sea were, however, prohibited and if attempted
would be made at the risk of capture. The armistice was to terminate
should the peace negotiation be broken off in the meantime, and a
convention embodying these terms was signed.
The news of the armistice was received excitedly by the Japanese and
Chinese living in the United States, but only the former found it
possible to concede the truth. A characteristic crowd of excited
Chinamen gathered in front of a Chinese temple in their own quarter of
New York City discussing a flaming red poster, the translation of which
read: “The war between China and Japan has ended and it is time for
every one to rejoice. Our fathers and brothers have fought the old enemy
and those who have not been butchered will be honored at home. China is
a greater country than Japan, and if the war had been allowed to go on
the Japanese would have been whipped out of their boots and China would
have annexed Japan as a colony. It is well for Japan that her people
have been called off by the emperor, but the time will not be long
before the war will be opened again, for it is written in the mystic
language of the shrine that China and Japan cannot dwell forever on the
same earth.”
During the time of Li Hung Chang’s illness resulting from his wound, his
son, Li Ching Fung, acted as his representative in Japan and continued
the negotiations. On April 7th the wound in Li’s face had completely
healed and the bandages were removed. The young man who had committed
the assault was sentenced to imprisonment for life at hard labor, while
the chief of police and the prefect of Shimonoseki, together will all
their staff, were dismissed in disgrace.
After three days of obstinate silence the assassin dropped his air of
bravado and made a full confession to Judge Toyama, who conducted a
private examination at the Bakan court. The prisoner declared that he
had long brooded over the causes leading to the disturbance of peace in
the east, and had reached the conclusion that the evil practices of Li
Hung Chang were accountable for all of them, beginning with the
mismanagement of affairs in Corea. He believed that as long as Li lived
peace could not be restored and resolved at one time to go to China and
kill the viceroy. This purpose was defeated by his inability to raise
the necessary money, but when he learned that Li was coming to Japan as
peace ambassador he felt that his opportunity had arrived. He bought a
revolver in Yokohama, March 11, and the next day started for Tokio,
reaching Bakan, March 24. At 4:15 o’clock that afternoon he approached
the sedan chair in which the ambassador was returning from the
conference hall to his lodgings in Shimonoseki and discharged his
weapon, aiming it at the victim’s breast. Although he endeavored to
steady his right arm by clasping it with the left, he missed his aim
inflicting only a slight wound.
The conditions of the peace which was to be concluded by treaty now
began to interest the civilized world almost as closely as the two
contending nations. The conditions which were demanded by the Japanese
were guessed at by every one who thought himself competent to form an
opinion, and the varying opinions were sent out for discussion in the
press of the world. At one time it was asserted to be arranged that
Japan would conclude on offensive and defensive alliance with China, the
object being to oppose European interests in the far east. This prospect
occasioned considerable excitement among European diplomates. It was
recognized that should China’s numbers and enormous resources be united
to Japanese progression, activity, and administrative ability, the
coalition would be almost impregnable to any assault that might be
delivered upon it, and that it might enjoy excellent success in any
Asiatic aggressions which it cared to attempt.
It will be unprofitable here to discuss the various conditions of peace
that were supposed to be proposed when we have at our command the
settlement that was actually made. Nor is it worth while to consider the
threatened intervention of Great Britain and Russia and France and
Germany, each to protect her own interests in the east, for as a matter
of fact no such interventions were made unless through the most secret
diplomacy. Inasmuch as Japan’s demands did not encroach upon any rights
possessed by those countries in the east, there was no proper reason why
they should intervene.
Finally on Monday, April 15th, a peace convention was actually signed at
Shimonoseki by the plenipotentiaries of China and Japan. The
independence of Corea was recognized. It was conceded that Japan should
retain temporarily the important places that she had conquered. Port
Arthur, Wei-hai-wei, and Niuchwang, including all the territory east of
the Liao River. The island of Formosa was ceded permanently to Japan. An
indemnity was provided for to be paid by China to Japan of 200,000,000
taels in silver, which is equivalent to about $150,000,000 in American
gold. China agreed to no longer impose upon foreigners the odious tax
known as Likin, levied upon all goods and sales, and a uniform standard
tael was required to be adopted by China for her currency. All
foreigners were to be permitted to introduce into China factories and
machinery, and to lease warehouses in the interior. The important
commercial concessions given to Japan were thus extended to all other
treaty nations. The occupation of Port Arthur and Wei-hai-wei and of the
conquered Manchoorian territory were to be temporary, lasting only long
enough to guarantee the payment of the war indemnity by China. The terms
of this payment provided that it should be made in silver in six annual
installments. Japan retained extra-territorial jurisdiction in China,
that is the right to try her own subjects arrested in China on charges
of crime, and on the other hand China gave up the right to
extra-territoriality in Japan.
The Chinese customs were not placed under Japanese control by the terms
of the treaty as had been alleged, and the stipulations provided that on
the payment of the first two installments of the indemnity to be paid by
China, Wei-hai-wei might be evacuated, provided China pledge her customs
revenue in order to insure the payment of the balance due. This it was
officially announced was optional, and might never take effect, while at
the present time there was no intention of touching the customs revenue
of China. It was understood that China conceded practically everything
required by Japan, except making Peking an open port, and this was
strenuously resisted. At the solicitation of the Chinese envoy too, the
indemnity demanded was reduced from three hundred million to two hundred
million taels.
So frequently were reports circulated, that Japan and China had
concluded an offensive and defensive alliance, and that the commercial
advantages secured by Japan were to be exclusive, that the government
felt it desirable to deny those statements and issued the following
announcement regarding the matter:
“Misapprehensions are reported to be current in Europe in regard to the
terms of the Japan-China treaty. It has been represented that Japan has
secured a two per cent ad valorem duty on imports instead of specific
duty and has also formed an offensive and defensive alliance with China.
The commercial concessions obtained by Japan beyond those already
secured by the treaty powers under the favored nation clause comprise
the right to navigate the Yang-tse-Kiang to Chung King, and also the
Woon Sung River and the canals leading to Soo Chow and Hank Chow and the
right to import machinery and certain goods duty free and to establish
factories. These concessions are not exclusive to Japan. They naturally
extended to European powers, in virtue of the favored nation clause. In
securing these privileges for all Japan expects the approval of all the
powers. The reported offensive and defensive alliance does not exist.”
Li Hung Chang and his suite started home to China escorted to their
vessels by a guard of honor, and Count Ito and Viscount Matsu, the
officers who negotiated the treaty of peace were received in audience by
the emperor on their return to Hiroshima. He expressed himself as
entirely satisfied with the principal points of the treaty which added
much to the glory of the empire, and highly pleased at the signal
service rendered by them. On the afternoon of April 22 the following
proclamation was issued by the Japanese mikado:
“Through peace, national prosperity is best promoted. Unfortunately, the
rupture of relations with China forced upon us a war which, after a
lapse of ten months, is not yet ended. During this period our ministers,
in concert with the army, navy and diet, have done all in their power to
further our aims in obedience to our instructions. Our ardent desire,
with the assistance of our subjects, in loyalty and sincerity, is to
restore peace and thereby attain our object—the promotion of national
prosperity. Now that peace is negotiated and armistice proclaimed, a
permanent cessation of hostilities is near at hand. The terms of peace
fixed by our minister of state give us complete satisfaction. The peace
and glory thus secured renders the present a fitting time to enlighten
you as to the course of our future policy.
“We are rejoiced at the recent victories which have enhanced the glory
of our empire. At the same time we are aware that the end of the road
which must be traversed by the empire in the march of civilization is
still far distant and remains yet to be attained. We therefore hope, in
common with our loyal subjects, that we shall always guard against
self-contentedness, but in a spirit of modesty and humility strive to
perfect out military defense without falling into extremes. In short, it
is our wish that the government and the people alike shall work to a
common end and that our subjects of all classes strive each in his
sphere for the purpose of laying the foundation of permanent prosperity.
“It is hereby definitely made known that no countenance will be given by
us to such as, through conceit at the recent victories, may offer insult
to another state or injure our relations with friendly powers,
especially as regards China. After the exchange of the ratifications of
the treaty of peace, friendship should be restored and endeavors made to
increase more than ever before the relations of good neighborhood. It is
our pleasure that our subjects pay due respect to these expressed
wishes.”
Let us now take a hasty glance in conclusion at the condition in which
the three countries with which we have dealt are left at the close of
the war, and the prospects for their future. The Japanese government is
in the hands of a progressive and able emperor, supported by a cabinet
composed of the foremost statesmen of the east, and reigning under
constitutional forms. Naturally elated by the wonderful success of their
arms, it is to be fairly expected that they will continue in the
progressiveness which has marked the island empire’s history since Perry
opened the door for western light to shine in. In the east they should
become by virtue of the abilities the dominant power, unless by chance
the Chinese have learned a lesson which they will put into effect. With
the constant impression of western civilization upon them, it is to be
hoped that the Japanese will acquire a firm moral and intellectual basis
for the manners of life that their intelligence and activity have
adopted, and become in the best sense a civilized nation. What they lack
now to reach this point, are the things that can only come by a
succession of generations of civilization. Wonderful record as the last
forty years have made for the empire, they have not given to that realm
yet a complete and rounded civilization. The best friends of Japan hope
and believe that she will not permit her splendid successes of the war
to make her over lordly and conceited.
China is the enigma of the east. It is certain that the influences of
their defeat will open the Chinese empire very rapidly to modern
civilization and investment. But whether or not China retain her
conservatism and refuse to adopt the things that are interspersed among
her people can scarcely be predicted. The established system has
received a severe shock from the Japanese victory, and surely a new or
civilized and more vigorous one will take its place. It is an actual
fact that so far as can be said by those most familiar with the country,
the knowledge that the war has even been in progress has probably not
yet penetrated to the confines of the empire, so poor are the means of
communication and so indifferent are the people of one region to the
things that are happening to those of another province. An experienced
traveler in China relates that he penetrated from Shanghai southwestward
through China towards India immediately after the destruction of the
summer palace of the emperor by French and English troops, and the
investiture of Peking thirty-five years ago. The expedition was
considered dangerous, as the antagonism of the whole country, smarting
under humiliation and defeat was to be feared. On arriving at Ichang,
eleven hundred miles from the coast, the war news had just come to the
knowledge of the government officials; three hundred miles farther west
there was absolute ignorance that any war had occurred. At the city of
Pingshan, two thousand miles west of the coast, the party heard of a
Mohammedan insurrection of some years’ standing, ranging in the province
of Yun-nan, but the bare fact of such an important disturbance had not
yet reached the coast. Certain it is however, that if China does
assimilate the lesson that she has had a chance to learn, a new power
will exist in the east that will need to be watched by western nations.
As to Corea it is difficult again to prophesy. Should Japan take
stringent pains to provide for civilizing that hermit kingdom, it is
possible that the work may be done, but so difficult are the political
conditions in that peninsula, and so unsympathetic are the Corean rulers
and chief men with all western ideas of progress, that the task will be
a bitter one. If Japan maintains the independence of Corea in its
purity, that must mean that she will keep her own hands out of Corean
affairs. This is scarcely to be expected, for the energetic empire has
imposed upon herself the task of reforming Corea, and it is sure that
she will make strenuous efforts to do it.
As one result of the war between China and Japan must be to increase the
points of contact between the eastern and western worlds, the fortune of
parties and the evolution of domestic politics in those countries must,
in future, command to a greater degree than in the past, the attention
of American and European observers. Political evolution has been rapid
in Japan. Changes which in Anglo-Saxon countries have been the slow
product of centuries, are, in this portion of what has been called “the
unchanging east,” crowded into little more than a single generation.
What may be done in Corea and China cannot be told. But the fairest
prophecy would be that the horrors of war will be utilized, by the
influence of time and a better understanding, to improve and modernize
the Orient.
THE END.
------------------------------------------------------------------------
Transcriber’s Note
Pages 127 and 128 do not exist, but the text flows from page 126 to 129.
The image on page 70 is marked as page 71 in the index.
The image of page 112 is marked as page 111 in the index.
The image on page 186 is marked as 187 in the index.
The image appearing between pp. 170 and 171, captioned “Female Types and
Costumes”, does not appear in the index of illustrations. An entry
has been added, delimited in square brackets, as “facing p. 170”.
A sentence describing the activities of the Red Cross on p. 595 seems to
be missing a verb. The word ‘was’ at 595.17 seems most likely to be
intended.
It was judged that the word ‘contrabrand’, which appears twice on p.
465, is an error. The proper form appears once (p. 666). The two
erroneous instances were corrected.
Other errors deemed most likely to be the printer’s have been corrected,
and are noted here. The references are to the page and line in the
original.
7.15 with European Civ[il]ization Added.
10.2 Chine[r/s]e Barber, Replaced.
25.9 to ann[i]hilate Japan’s influence in Corea Inserted.
44.30 bronchial and p[lu/ul]monary complaints Transposed.
48.38 established a dynasty, short[-]lived indeed Inserted.
62.19 Dante, Petrarch and Boccac[c]io. Inserted.
66.31 with his new auxil[l]iaries Removed.
66.34 the tro[u/o]ps of the rebel leader Replaced.
71.6 England[']s First Embassy to China Inserted.
107.1 proper ice for p[er/re]servation Transposed.
105.7 roughly paralle[d/l] with its fellow Replaced.
146.21 by [sutting] their hair in fringe across _Sic_: putting?
their foreheads cutting?
171.5 steer straight by the[m/ir] co[m]pass Repaced. Inserted.
173.11 i[m/n]flammatory diseases are almost unknown Replaced.
in China
181.8 written in the colloqu[i]al style Inserted.
194.25 whereby his peac[e]ably disposed subjects Inserted.
217.4 the terror of the Chinese and Corean Inserted.
co[a]sts
228.32 before which they once [prayed Comma misplaced.
consume,/prayed, consume] them
232.5 It was the syno[myn/nym] of sorcery Transposed.
233.3 the “corrupt sect” suppos[o/e]d to be Replaced.
eradicated
233.29 their fathers of the seventeenth century.[”] Added.
251.14 made it the cap[ti/it]al of the empire Transposed.
296.1 bits of wood under the t[h/o]e and heel Replaced.
305.7 always bright with ve[n/r]dure and flowers Replaced.
333.14 The Confucian ethics were dil[l]igently Removed.
studied
343.3 the little peninsula been devast[at]ed by Inserted.
mighty invasion
343.21 [In ]1707 the Jesuits in Peking Added.
344.25 by their attemp[t]s to escape Inserted.
349.2 F[i]fteen years later Inserted.
350.10 These records of persever[e/a]nce Replaced.
372.1 GEOGRAPHY, GOVERNMENT, CLIMATE AND Inserted.
PRO[D]UCTS OF COREA.
372.22 or to Great Brit[ia/ai]n Transposed.
401.34 Mourning is of many degre[s/e]s and lengths Replaced.
414.2 the Chinese have not the sligh[t]est idea Inserted.
414.28 has frequently been a potent i[u/n]fluence Inverted.
424.37 Min Yon[k/g] Ik, who after fleeing to the Replaced.
mountains,
451.1 the Japanese expressive of contemp[t] Restored.
458.3 The sq[u]adron at this time, however, was in Inserted.
the north
462.24 before he could reach T[ei/ie]n-tsin Transposed.
465.13 contrab[r]and Removed.
465.17 contrab[r]and Removed.
465.22 that drew upo[m/n] them a severe rebuke Replaced.
492.38 it was evident that she was sinking[.] Added.
493.8 no mean achiev[e]ment Inserted.
501.7 seventeen and one-half knots; [T/t]he Replaced.
Takachiho and the Naniwa
503.19 the prestige of a grea[l/t] moral and Replaced.
material victory
536.22 no ca[lva/val]ry or artillery accompanying Transposed.
them
552.30 The efficien[c]y of a force Inserted.
571.36 and[ and] he chasing them back into their Removed.
own ports
554.2 a[m/n]d they stood shoulder to shoulder Replaced.
578.13 three st[r]ong columns of Chinese Inserted.
595.17 The last activity of the Red Cross society Missing?
prior to the war in 1891, [was ]when
598.20 now a w[ie/ei]rd, characteristic Japanese Transposed.
march
604.31 while vastly important as a stra[get/teg]ic Transposed.
point
614.2 terrorized the people of Ma[u/n]chooria Transposed.
614.22 through the Laio[./-]Tung promontory Replaced.
617.3 to the north of Talien-wan Bay[,] Added.
620.33 and four hundred ca[lva/val]ry cavalry Transposed.
621.10 Jap[a]nese troops turned southward Inserted.
622.35 towards severe [punishment the] military and _Sic._ of? for?
naval officers
625.28 Mor[e]over, he too believed Inserted.
626.1 to hold the regency under pretex[t] Added.
636.19 his squadron was seen in its old posit[i]on Inserted.
648.36 Th[e/s] coast defenses Replaced.
651.6 to the group of small islands know[s/n] as Replaced.
the Pescadores
666.15 On the opening of the negot[i]ations Inserted.
668.8 he endeavored to st[u/ea]dy his right arm Replaced.
670.3 a two per cent ad v[o/a]lorem duty Replaced.
671.15 fr[i]endship should be restored Inserted.
*** End of this LibraryBlog Digital Book "The War in the East - Japan, China, and Corea" ***
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