2. A Chronicler's Judgment on People and Things

2.1 Martino Martini's judgment on the Wan Li Emperor (1573-1920)

2.1.1 Martino Martini offers a twofold judgment on the last great emperor of the Ming dynasty, who died on August 18, 1620, and was followed on the throne by only minor figures. The first time he mentions him, Martini delivers a very flattering judgment indeed: "In this way the Empire was solidly established. The Chinese enjoyed peace for almost 250 years under the rule of the family Thamin [Da Ming]. While the seven little sovereigns who had divided among themselves Eastern Tartary were carrying on a cruel [internal] war, the whole of China obeyed Vanlie [Wan Li], the thirteenth emperor of this family, who was not only one of the most just and wise princes of the world, but also one of the happiest. His reign, in fact, begun in the year 1573, did not end until 1620, so that he governed this powerful monarchy for forty- seven years, to the incredible satisfaction of all his peoples." (11) The chronicler's emphasis is all too clear in such a passage. On the other hand, Martini is too much of a realist not to see some black spots in all this light. Moving towards the end of the reign, Martini becomes more critical. Commenting on Wan Li's reception of Nu Er Ha Chi's "Seven Grievances", Martini remarks: "Vanlie in this confrontation did not make use of his habitual prudence. For, having received this letter, he did not care to handle the matter himself, but handed it over to the Mandarins. This emperor, who was so experienced in the management of affairs, by such a negligence committed a totally irresponsible mistake." (12)

2.1.2 The last time Martini mentions Wan Li, he blames him for another fault, but this time the fault is something in which Martini feels personally involved, both as a Catholic missionary and as a member of the Society of Jesus: "This same year [1518] some persons pressured the Emperor Vanlie to expel from China the Fathers of the Society of Jesus, who were announcing the Gospel in his kingdom. The love he had for the Christian Religion, and for the Fathers who taught it, made him reject several times this proposal; but finally, having let himself be overcome by the ceaseless demands of Xinqui [?], who was one of the major Mandarins and one of the greatest enemies of the true Religion, he issued an edict by which he ordered all the Fathers in charge of the churches throughout China to leave the kingdom. [...] The emperor did not stop at that. He denied to all his subjects the right to embrace the Christian Religion. By this denial he gave the opportunity to all true Christians to prove their perseverance. But this is not the place to relate exactly all that happened during this persecution; I have mentioned it only to show how God's providence is admirable in its doings. It is God's providence that by hidden means has stirred up this cruel war against the Chinese, precisely when they refused to accept the peace of the Gospel." (13)

2.1.3 On the whole, therefore, Martini's judgment on the emperor Wan Li is positive. The last word is rather negative, but the motivation is historical-theological, not strictly historical. (14) If we turn to contemporary historiography, we find that it judges Wan Li in a way diametrically opposed to that of Martini. The judgment of present-day historians on the last great Ming emperor is mainly negative, with some positive remarks. The Cambridge History of China (1988), which draws also upon recent Chinese historiographical research, blames Wan Li for his 'extravagance' and 'profligacy'. (15) His last few years are judged "disastrous, politically, economically, and particularly militarily." (16) His stinginess, leading to an unnecessary increase in taxes, "caused great unhappiness at court and throughout the empire." (17) This view of Wan Li is not something totally new. K.S. Latourette (1954) had already judged Wan Li to be simply 'incompetent', with few wise decisions to his credit. (18)

2.1.4 From this comparison between Martini's judgment and that of present-day historians we can conclude that the individual chronicler is on the losing side when he is called upon to give a general judgment on a whole period and on the overall performance of a person. The total picture escapes him, many crucial data are unknown to him, and so his judgment is inevitably relative and subjective. All this notwithstanding, his judgment is not useless. By his or her judgment the chronicler makes an essential contribution to historiography in that he or she bears witness to attitudes current in his or her time with regard to the facts and the persons chronicled. Thus Martini's emphatically positive judgment on Wan Li's reign tells us how at least part of the Jesuit community in China viewed the emperor that granted a piece of burial ground to the Jesuit pioneer Matteo Ricci, when the latter died in 1610. Perhaps Martini's judgment also reflects the nostalgic impression of Wan Li's reign lingering in the hearts of the Chinese people who were confronted with the chaotic situation during the forties in mid-17th century China.

2.2 Martino Martini's judgment on Nu Er Ha Chi's "Seven Grievances"

2.2.1 When addressing the topic of the "Seven Grievances", strangely enough, Martini seems to go out of his way to stress the sincerity of Nu Er Ha Chi when writing his letter to Emperor Wan Li: "It was in 1516 that [Nu Er Ha Chi] entered Chinese territory and took possession of this city. When he had conquered it, he wrote to the king of China a letter which had nothing barbarian but the alphabet. In this letter [...], in terms full of respect and submission, he reported that he had started the war in self-defense against the violence of the Mandarins, who had cruelly assassinated his father; however, he was ready to lay down arms and to return the city he had taken by surprise, if [the emperor] would give him an audience and do him justice." (19)

2.2.2 Martini's judgment on the above-mentioned response of Wan Li to Nu Er Ha Chi indirectly contains an additional positive assessment of the content of Nu Er Ha Chi's letter. However, contemporary historiography does not divide the praise and the blame so neatly. Martini must have known the content of the famous letter. Impressed by the form, he may have not reflected enough on the content. The Cambridge History of China has this to say about Nu Er Ha Chi's "Seven Grievances": "Still claiming to desire a peaceful settlement, Nurhaci now publicized his Seven Grievances [...]. These grievances could be redressed only by a cession of territory to him and by annuities of gold, silver, and silk fabrics－in effect, a tribute from Peking. Those conditions were calculated to be unacceptable to Peking." (20)

2.2.3 Behind this modem appreciation of Nu Er Ha Chi's letter, there is the awareness that, however diplomatic the form, the substance of the message was that the relationships of emperor and tributary vassal had to be reversed. In my opinion, this awareness is the fruit of four hundred years of mutual contacts between China and Europe. Only gradually have Europeans become aware of imperial China's expectation of a "tributary consciousness" on the part of nations coming into contact with her. (21) Perhaps this is a point worth researching: were the 17th century Jesuits in China aware of this fact? Since the time of Matteo Ricci they were aware of the importance of precious gifts in dealing with the Chinese authorities. But did they perceive the true significance of these gifts in the eyes of the Chinese imperial court? Only if Martini had been aware of this true significance, could he have guessed the real import of Nu Er Ha Chi's letter. Time, after all, is a great clarifier.

2.3 Martino Martini's judgment on Yuan Chung Huan (1584-1630)

2.3.1 With regard to Yuan Chung Huan, Martini's judgment is particularly open to criticism, since he turned a national hero into a scoundrel. Or shall we say that a chronicler's scoundrel sometimes may unexpectedly become history's hero and vice versa? This is what Martini has to say of the great Chinese general: "Yuen [Yuan] was a spirit of tricks and intrigues, equally eloquent in the discourses he pronounced vocally and in those he concocted on paper. [...] It must be admitted that, if he had as much fidelity to his king and love for his country, as he had eloquence and savoir-faire, he could have rendered to the public invaluable services. But his insatiable avarice made him accept a prodigious amount of gold and silver offered him by the Tartars. Consequently, he used all his ingenuity to advance their designs." While describing in detail how he collaborated under cover with the Manchus, Martini calls him 'traitor' and twice "this perfide." (22)

2.3.2 To issue such a clear-cut description of the personality of Yuan, Martini, we may surmise, must have relied on first-hand information from someone among his fellow-Jesuits who had some dealings with Yuan. (23) Or he may have taken for granted the impression, which must have been current among the people, of Yuan as a traitor, since he was executed by the emperor precisely on a charge of treason. However, Martini seems to have overlooked the fact that the Manchus were also able to play dirty tricks. Historians today are of the opinion that all that Martini says about the intentions of Yuan were, in reality, nothing but rumours started by the Manchus. "Fearful of Yuan's military prowess, the Manchus hoped to discredit him in the eyes of the Ch'ung-chen emperor. The rumors gained credibility because Yuan had negotiated a temporary truce with Abahai several years earlier. On 13 January 1630 he was arrested and charged with treason. [...] The emperor [,.,] had his most talented general, Yuan Ch'ung-huan, cut to pieces in the capital on 22 September 1630." (24)

2.3.3 Not only is the supposition of treason wrong in Martini's account, but several of the details also seem to be inaccurate. The timing of the whole event is not clear. Here Martini is relating facts that happened a dozen years before his arrival in China. For his account he had to rely on other people's reports, which, in this case, contained a very strong bias against Yuan Chung Huan. Martini's unsuspecting acceptance of this bias may be due to the fact that Mao Wen Long (1576-1629) died in suspicious circumstances while in the company of Yuan Chung Huan. Now Mao was held in the highest esteem by the Jesuits in China. Martini calls him "the incomparable Maouenlung." (25) One reason for such an esteem was that Mao Wen Long was a Christian sympathizer. (26) Martini uncritically records as a proven fact the unprovable rumour about his death: "[Yuan Chung Huan] invited this great captain to a feast and poisoned him." (27)

2.4 Martino Martini's Judgment on Dorgon (1612-1650)

2.4.1 With regard to Martini's judgment on Dorgon, if we compare the text of the De bello tartarico in the first edition and the Appendix added to it in the second edition, we realize that Martini makes a dramatic turn-about in the Appendix. In the text of the first edition, Martini's assessment of Dorgon is extremely positive. Since Martini was at the Peking court in 1650 before Dorgon's death, he might have known the great Manchu personally. In the De bello tartarico Martini says that he saw the return to Peking of the triumphant army which Dorgon personally led to conquer the fortress of Da Tong. (28) After recording the news of his death, Martini eulogizes him in these terms: "For the rest Amauang [that is, Dorgon] died at the beginning of the year 1651, after obtaining so many victories, which have been as advantageous to the Tartar cause as his death will be disastrous. In fact, he was an admirable man, whose government was so just that the Tartars and the Chinese loved him equally. Moreover, one cannot deny that his loss has dealt a terrible blow to the power of the conquerors." (29)

2.4.2 It is evident that Martini was unaware of the power struggle that followed that death of Abahai, eighth son and second successor of Nu Er Ha Chi and Dorgon's brother. Martini's report of Dorgon's coming to power is idyllic: "[Abahai] when dying adjured his brothers to contribute with all their might to the enterprise that he had started and that could not be brought to a successful end except through their courage. He then chose the eldest brother as tutor to his son, to be the Regent as long as the latter was a minor. The last words of this dying king had so much effect on the spirit of these ambitious princes, that they all worked together with an admirable unity for the establishment of the greatness of their nephew."(30) As a matter of fact, Abahai had appointed two regents, "Jirgalang, a nephew of Nurhaci, and Dorgon, Nurhaci's fourteenth son." (31) Jirgalang was stripped of power by Dorgon's political manoeuvring. I think it is reasonable to surmise that behind Martini one can hear the voice of Dorgon explaining to the foreign missionaries how he came to power.

2.4.3 Martini goes so far in his admiration for Dorgon as to excuse him for the tragic death of Haoge (the child emperor's elder brother and Dorgon's rival): "Dorgon not only imprisoned Haoge but also took his wife as one of his concubines. [...] The imprisonment and the subsequent death of Haoge (which followed immediately after imprisonment) had the immediate effect of making Dorgon look like a tyrant." (32) Martini is aware of the problematic nature of Haoge's death, but he has this to say: "For the rest, this general [that is, Haoge], after obtaining such a decisive victory, and having been badly received by his brother Amauang [that is, Dorgon], found death, where he had reason to expect only a triumph. [...] This prince, who was truly generous and who did not deserve to experience the rigor of such bad fortune, not wishing to be the first Tartar to suffer such an ignominy, strangled himself in his palace. Someone has said that Amauang in a fit of jealousy had provoked his brother on purpose. But it is more probable that Amauang used such severity towards him only because he was worried that his brother would be a danger to the empire, given his too vehement temperament." (33) Again, one must say that Martini's report appears to reflect only too closely the machiavellian Dorgon's own version of the whole affair.

2.4.4 Strange to say, on the very same page of his work Martini ends the text of the first edition of his "History" and, in the second edition, adds some news which he had received in Europe from China. The last paragraph of this page reads as follows: "After the death of Amauang, the young Nunchi [Shun Zhi], of whom he had been the tutor, took charge of all affairs as soon as he was crowned. Then the hidden designs and the secret practices during the regency of this uncle of the emperor were discovered. The prince, intending to establish his authority by a just and severe punishment of the crimes of his uncle, ordered the destruction of his tomb which had been beautifully constructed in his honour. After his corpse was taken out of the tomb, he had it beheaded and dishonoured, in the manner in which corpses of criminals are usually treated. The anger of the emperor did not erupt only against his uncle, but it made its effect felt also on people in power who had been his confidants." (34) Martini's turn-about is surprising. Reacting hurriedly to the news, the chronicler, who had had such great admiration for Dorgon, goes to the other extreme and accepts without more ado the blackening of Dorgon's character at the hands of his enemies. Martini, though aware of Jirgalang's vengeful behind-the-scenes activity, (35) does not doubt. In reality, this is how 20th century historians describe the situation at the court of Peking after Dorgon's death: "Policy-making in 1650-1651 was dominated by Jirgalang, with the child emperor and the three administrative princes playing supporting roles. The immediate concern of the Jirgalang-controlled government was the removal and punishment of Dorgon's men." (36) Unlike the chronicler, the historian doubts the factual nature of many reports: "Dorgon's coffin was found upon excavation to hide a yellow robe (which only befitted an emperor). Whether the yellow robe was planted to substantiate [the accusations] or not remains questionable [...]." (37)

2.4.5 Was Dorgon then black or white? Chronicles are easily peopled by black and white characters, history by grey ones. Our contemporary historians support the claim that Dorgon was an extremely clever politician. An aspect of this cleverness was a curious mixture of ruthlessness and tolerance. But where Li Zi Cheng failed, Dorgon succeeded: "Dorgon possessed [...] a forgiving sense of exigency (ch'uan) that contrasted sharply with the crude and overbearing righteousness that had betrayed Li Tzu-ch'eng [Li Zi Cheng]'s original intent." (38) Another historian, who initially almost echoed Martini's earlier judgment but then proceeded to criticize Dorgon, views the Manchu Regent thus: "Dorgon's contribution to the young dynasty cannot be ignored [...]. In reaching the summit of power at a relatively early age, Dorgon in effect halted his own career; he seems to have experienced the frustration of having no higher estate to reach for. He began to indulge himself in pleasure-seeking." (39) As for the posthumous vilification of Dorgon, this must be noted: "It was not until 1778 when Emperor Ch'ien-lung (1736-1795) re-examined the merits and faults of the dynasty's founders that his good name was restored and he was exonerated." (40)

2.4.6 Martino Martini's volte-face with regard to his judgment on Dorgon raises the question why, in his second edition, he did not modify the eulogy of Dorgon in the first edition, in order to make it fit in more neatly with subsequent news and his later negative judgment. In my view, by omitting to do so (or shall we say, refusing to do so), Martini proves himself a true and reliable chronicler. As it now stands, the text of Martini's 'History' bears witness to the way in which the chronicler viewed the personality of Dorgon before and after the news of his posthumous degradation. By keeping the two judgments distinct, Martini has made his chronicle more valuable for the historian than if he had harmonized them.

2.5 Martino Martini's judgment on the cause of the Peasant Rebellions

2.5.1 Martini wastes no sympathy on the rebel leaders whom he regularly calls 'bandits'. The immense success they enjoyed at first, with which they initially met, would seem to suggest that we add some qualification to this radically negative designation by our chronicler. Martini follows more closely the movements of one of them, Li Zi Cheng. (41) As for Zhang Xian Zhong, after a first brief mention, Martini seems to forget him, until he devotes the last pages of his 'History' (42) to the rebel leaders. Unlike Martini, who must have been horrified by the eye-witness accounts he received about the atrocities perpetrated by the rebels, present-day historians credit the two rebel leaders with at least an initial sense of justice, which won them a large measure of popular support.(43)

2.5.2 As for the causes of these rebellions, Martini mentions famines, local injustices, greed for easy profit, but above all the policy of over-taxation: "These bands grew more and more, because the emperor drew people to despair by the severity with which he demanded the payment of the tributes that were normal during the years of bumper harvest." (44) Actually, the problem was much vaster. Environmental, climactic, demographic, economic and political factors combined to precipitate the situation. (45) The first movements of rebellion appeared already in the early 1620s. (46) In the mid-30s the rebellions gathered momentum. (47) In the end the pervasive social injustice brought all causes of social unrest to a head. Increasing taxes reflected increasing hardships, but no rebellion would have erupted without the linkage of taxation with social injustice. The following conclusions by a modem historian on the causes of the T'ung-ch'eng uprising of 1634 agree with this pinpointing of the root causes of the rebellions: "Other observers were less surprised at the violence, and suggested that the wealthy members of the community had brought it upon themselves by their outrageous and often illegal treatment of social and economic inferiors. And although the T'ung-ch'eng uprising was put down rather quickly, the tensions between rich and poor that existed there also existed in other parts of southeastern China during the mid-1930s, tensions resulting from, among other things, the collusion among local officials, corrupt yamen functionaries and powerful landowners. Many landowners had for years falsified tax records, and evaded a substantial portion of their tax obligations. With the continual pressure from the central government to fill the local tax quotas, an even greater share of the burden was shifted to smaller property owners who lacked the financial resources and political connections to defend themselves against unfair exactions." (48) Such an analysis is evidently the fruit of a cooperative effort by generations of historians who painstakingly collected and studied socioeconomic evidence relevant to the Peasant Rebellions. Nobody will blame Martino Martini for not stressing the connection between over-taxation and social injustice. It is interesting to note, however, how close Martini comes to such an analysis when he too, besides over-taxation, indicates the local injustices, the excessive greed and the famines as the spark that ignited the great fire of the Peasant Rebellions. (49) Martini is only a chronicler, yes, but a remarkably observant one!

11. Histoire, 379.

12. Histoire, 380.

13. Histoire, 382-383. It should be noted that Martini is aware that such an extended theological reflection is a 'digression' in a history book.

14. By 'theological' I mean a judgment based on convictions derived from religious faith.

15. Cambridge History of China, 589.

16. Ibidem, 590.

17. Ibidem.

18. K.S. Latourette, The Chinese, Their History & Culture, Vol. 2, 3rd ed. (New York: Maemillan 1945)307.

19. Histoire, 380.

20. Cambridge History of China, 577.

21. Cf. Alain Peyrefitte, The Collision of Two Civilisations: The British Expedition to China in 1792-4, Translated from the French by Jon Rothschild (London: Harvill 1993). The original French is entitled L'Empire Immobile ou Le Choc des Mondes (Libraire Artheme Fayard 1989).

22. Histoire, 393-394.

23. Hsu, Rise, 23 says that in 1626 Yuan repelled Nu Er Ha Chi "using cannons cast by Jesuit missionaries."

24. Cambridge History of China, 616-617. Cf. Hsu, Rise, 24.

25. Histoire, 389.

26. D' Orleans, Histoire, 13-14: "Many similar examples occurred during this war in which the Christian religion was honoured, either by her open professors, or by those who, having associated with them, had adopted their precepts. A celebrated chief called Mauvenlon was amongst the latter."

27. Histoire, 393.

28. Ibidem, 441. Martini left Peking before the death of Dorgon (Ibidem, 445). That Martini was at the court during Dorgon's regency can be inferred from what he says about two Jesuits from Sichuan: "The uncle of the Emperor [wanted] them to come to the court of his nephew, where I left them in the year 1650." (Ibidem, 454).

29. Ibidem, 445. Martini having already left Peking before Dorgon's death (cf. note 27), his date of Dorgon's death lacks precision. Dorgon actually died in 1650. Cf. Adam Lui, Two Rulers in One Reign: Dorgon and Shun-chih 1644-1660 (Canberra: Faculty of Asian Studies, Australian National University, 1989) 41. However, Martini must have heard of Dorgon's death and the subsequent turmoil before he left China. Cf. Histoire, 445.

30. Histoire, 408.

31. Hus, Rise, 27.

32. Lui, Two Rulers, 10.

33. Histoire, 454-455.

34. Ibidem, 456.

35. Histoire, 445.

36. LUI, Two Rulers, 41.

37. Ibidem, 36.

38. Frederic Wakeman Jr., "The Shun Interregnum of 1644". In Jonathan D. Spence and John E. Wills Jr., (eds.). From Ming to Ch' ing: Conquest, Region, and Continuity in Seventeenth-Century China (New Haven and London: Yale University 1979)75.

39. Hsu, Rise, 32.

40. Ibidem, 33.

41. Histoire, 392-393, 397-400, 403-406, 412.

42. Ibidem, 445-457.

43. Cf. Wakeman, "The Shun Inteiregnum", 50-58. Compare James B. Parsons, Peasant Rebellions of the Late Ming Dynasty (Tucson: University of Arizona 1970).

44. Histoire, 398.

45. Cambridge History of China, 585-590.

46. Ibidem, 602-605, 610-611, 615-616.

47. Ibidem, 621-640.

48. Ibidem, 626.

49. Histoire, 398.