by Lanfranco M. Fedrigotti S.D.B.
MARTINO MARTINI'S DE BELLO TARTARICO :
LATE MING AND EARLY QING CHRONICLE, A VALID POINT OF REFERENCE FOR A "HISTORY OF THE PEOPLE"
1. Introduction : Chronicles and Histories
1.1 Is Martino Martini (*) a chronicler or a historian? The answer to this question will depend on the meaning we attach to the terms "chronicle" and "history". For the purpose of our investigation, a simple differentiation between these two kinds of historical accounts will do. In the Encyclopedia Britannica, C.W. Jones, under the word "chronicle", gives this description of the genre: "Chronicles, records of noteworthy events both natural and cultural, arranged in chronological order, represent a more detailed and sophisticated form of annals [...]. Insofar as they are bare statements of fact, given without comment and compiled without inductive purpose, chronicles differ essentially from history (Gr. historia, "inquiry"), which is understood as being concerned not only to describe but also to interpret the actions of men. Nevertheless few chronicles are entirely free of tendentiousness; from the earliest times their compilers began to select data in order to exalt a reigning house or a religion, or to provide moral exempla." (1) Even a superficial reading of Martini's De bello tartarico shows that both this description of the genre "chronicle" and the proviso attached to it are relevant to Martini's work. How relevant are they? Is Martini "a chronicler with a purpose"? "These are the kind of questions that I am going to deal with.
1.2 The starting point of my research is the article which the late Chinese historian Ma Yong wrote for the First International Congress on Martino Martini. (2) This article is, as far as I know, the first and the best concise presentation of Martini's De bello tartarico to the world. At the beginning and at the end of his presentation, Ma Yong expresses a twofold judgment which will form the backbone of my own discussion. At the beginning Ma Yong says: "The De bello tartarico is not a truly historical work, but is rather a non-systematic collection." (3) At the end of the article Ma Yong says: "[The De bello tartarico] remains a reference work of excellent historical value." (4) So in Ma Yong's view, Martini's book on the final struggle of the Ming against the Qing is "not a truly historical work", but "a reference work of excellent historical value." The title and the content of my article are simply meant to illustrate this careful judgment of the distinguished Chinese historian.
1.3 Martino Martini, for his part, considered his own work to be a true "history", in the sense, of course, given to this term in his own times. The De bello tartarico reads much like the continuation of the Tongjian Gangmu, the supplement to the official Chinese history of the Song and Yuan dynasties, parts of which Martini probably had occasion to read. (5) Today, however, we understand the word "history" in a stricter sense, and distinguish history-writing from chronicle-writing and other literary forms. If I may elaborate somewhat in a personal way the distinction given above between "history" and "chronicle", I would say that the most striking difference between the two forms lies in this: history-writing is essentially a communitarian enterprise; it presupposes an as wide as possible search for documents, a comparison and an interpretation of these documents, and the offering of this interpretation to the scrutiny of scholarly criticism. Chronicle-writing, instead, is a highly individual enterprise; its purpose is to offer a valuable historical document to posterity regarding persons and events that the chronicler deems memorable; its contents consist mainly (if the chronicle is to be valuable) of eye-witness reports, whether the eye-witness is the chronicler him/herself or people directly contacted by him/her. So, on the one hand, a chronicle shares somehow the highly individual character of a diary. But, on the other hand, it is different from a diary, in that the focus of attention in a chronicle is not introspection but interested observation of the events and persons of the surrounding world. This 'public' interest is something the chronicle shares with history. A final point distinguishing chronicles from histories is that it is essential for the chronicler that he or she be contemporary or almost contemporary with the events he or she describes. Instead, for true history writing, it is essential that there be a certain time lag between the history-writer and the events he or she describes, so as to ensure independence and objectivity of judgment. If not "the mother of truth", time is at least "the midwife of historical truth". This point was well taken by the European editor of the Qing history published in Europe in 1780 while emperor Kang Xi was still alive: "[It is] impossible to have the authentic history of the Qing, because such a history can appear only when another dynasty has succeeded the present one." (6)
1.4 From this elementary outline of the literary forms of history-writing and chronicle-writing it is already rather clear where Martino Martini and his De bello tartarico stand. (7) Contemporary with most of the events he describes, often passing a very personal judgment on persons and events, he is one of the many primary sources (8) for the history of this period, when China saw the dramatic, even tragic, dynastic change from Ming to Qing. This is a crucial period whose claims to be treated as the beginning of the history of Modem China are at least as good as those of the Opium Wars period.(9) In the rest of my paper I will illustrate how Martini's "Chronicle" of the Ming-Qing succession wars differs from a standard "history" of the period. I shall concentrate especially on one aspect: the judgments Martino Martini passes on several personalities and events, judgments which I have found to be at odds with the findings of contemporary historiography.(10)
* Martino Martini, S.J. was born in Trent in 1614; he went to Rome in 1632 to continue his studies and in 1636 he joined the Society of Jesus. In 1640 he left Rome for China as a missionary and reached Macao in 1643. In Europe, in the sixth decade of the seventeenth century, he published his main historical and geographical works on the Chinese Empire. He returned to China and died in Hangzhou in 1661. Martini's three main works are the following: 1) De bello tarlarico, 2) Novus alias sinensis, 3) Sinicae historiae decas prima. In recent years scholarly interest in the person and work of Martino Martini S.J. has been stimulated by international congresses jointly organized by the University of Trent (the city of the Council!) and the Chinese Academy of Social Sciences in Beijing. The proceedings of these congresses have been published in book form and constitute a precious reference material for the study of the Martino Martini: 1) Giorgio Melis (ed.), Martino Martini: geografo, cartografo, storico, teologo, Trento 1614－Hangzhou 1661, Atti del Convegno Internazionale, Italian-English edition (Trento: Provincia Autonoma, Museo Tridentino di Scienze Naturali 1983) 248-262; 2) Franco Demarchi and Riccardo Scartezzini (eds.), Martino Martini: A Humanist and Scientist in Seventeenth Century China, Proceedings of the International Symposium on Martino Martini and Cultural Exchanges between China and the West, Chinese Academy of Social Sciences, Beijing 5-6-7 April 1994 (Trento: Universita Degli Studi 1996). This book has been published also in Italian and in Chinese. The writer of this article happens to hail also from Trent, Martino Martini's fatherland. This research is meant as a humble contribution to the knowledge of this great Catholic missionary of the Society of Jesus in the turbulent China of the mid-seventeenth century.
1. C. W. Jones, "Chronicle", Encyclopedia Britannica (1972 edition). Volume 5, 713. This current meaning of 'chronicle' is somehow the reverse of the meaning current in classical antiquity. As C.W. Jones points out in the same article, "some grammarians followed Verrius Flaccus [...] in distinguishing chronicles (annales) and history (historiae) as accounts respectively of past or of current events: Tacitus, for instance, in his Annals wrote of events that occurred before his birth or in his early childhood, and in his Histories described his own times. This specific terminology, however, was not followed by the medieval historiographers of western Europe, whose work the word 'chronicle' particularly denotes. [...] Their scribes described such works indiscriminately as chronica or historiae. In the main, however, chronicles continued to provide succinct dry records of indisputable events and phenomena such as legations, councils, coronations, deaths, earthquakes, eclipses and wars, securely set in a framework of time." (Ibidem, 713-714). I think this quotation goes a long way to explain in what spirit Martino Martini wrote the De bello tartarico and why the early translations were entitled, for example, Histoire de la guerre des Tartares contre la Chine.
2. Ma Yong, "Martino Martini's activity in China and his works on Chinese history and geography", in Giorgio Melis, Martino Martini, 248-262.
3. Ibidem, 255.
4. Ibidem, 257.
5. This Chinese historical work, which ends with the Yuan dynasty, has been available to me only in the French translation of De Mailla (cf. note 6). This translation seems to have supplemented the original work with other material concerning the Ming and Qing dynasties (perhaps the Tungjian Man, published with the approval of emperor Qian Long in 1759). Ma Yong surmises that the original Tongjian Gangmu by Zhu Xi was probably one of the sources of Martini's Sinicae historiae decas prima. Chapters 1-22 of the Tongjian Gangmu deal with the Song dynasty; chapters 23-27 with the Yuan dynasty.
6. My translation from the French of Joseph-Anne-Marie de Moyriac de Mailla (trans.), Histoire Generate de la Chine, Tome Onzieme: Vingt-Deuxieme Dynastie. Les Tsing. (Paris: Ph.D. Pierres & Clousier 1780) 1, note 1. Here the European editor (Le Roux des Hautesrayes) is merely echoing a standard principle of Chinese historiography, namely, that the history of a dynasty can be written only by historians of the next dynasty. The reason for such a principle of Chinese historiography is well illustrated in the period under consideration by the tampering with historical records at the hands of the infamous imperial eunuch Wei Zhung Xian, cf. Fredrick W. Mote and Denis Twitchett (eds.). The Cambridge History of China, Volume 7: The Ming Dynasty, 1368-1644, Part I (Cambridge, New York, New Rochelle, Melbourne, Sydney: Cambridge University 1988) 607-608.
7. Ma Yong, p.255, calls Martini's De hello tartarico "a documentary book of things he has seen and heard.".
8. Martino Martini's De hello tartarico is listed among this period's Primary Sources (as distinct from Secondary Sources) in at least one of the recent historical works on the end of Ming and the beginning of Qing which I have consulted in the library of the University of Hong Kong. Unfortunately I have been unable to retrace this reference.
9. Cf. Immanuel C.Y. Hsu, The Rise of Modern China, Second Edition (New York, London, Toronto: Oxford University 1975) 4.
10. Since unfortunately I have been unable to gain access to the Latin original of Martini's De bello tartarico, in the following sections, when quoting from Martini's work, I shall have to translate from the (early, but already second) French translation of the De hello tartarico published as an Appendix to the Histoire Universelle de la Chine by Alvarez Semedo, Lyon: Hierosme Prost, 1667, with this title: Histoire de la guerre des Tortures, centre la Chine. Contenant les revolutions estranges, qui soni arrivees dans ce grand Royaume, depuis quaranie ans. Traduite du Latin du P. Martin Martini. For some passages I have used the partial English translation of Martini's work given in the History of the Two Tartar Conquerors of China, Including the Two Journeys into Tartary of Father Ferdinand Verbiest, in the Suite of the Emperor Kang-Hi, from the French of Pere Pierre Joseph D' Orleans of the Company of Jesus, to which is added Father Pereira 's Journey into Tartary in the Suite of the Same Emperor, from the Dutch of Nicolaas Witsen. Translated and Edited by the Earl of Ellesmere. With an Introduction by R.H. Major, Esq., of the British Museum, Honorary Secretary of the Hakluyt Society, London: Printed for the Hakluyt Society (1854). The original work of Pierre Joseph D'Orleans is entitled Histoire des Deux Conquerans Tartares qui ont subjuge la Chine (Paris: Claude Barbin 1688). Therefore, this English translation, I sometimes use, is a second-hand translation like mine. In this second-hand translation of mine, for the proper names I have kept the phonetic system of the French translation, providing as far as possible the Chinese equivalent (in pin yin between square brackets). This is necessary because some of the transliterations used in the French translation are very different from current ones. When no equivalent is provided, I will add a question mark between square brackets, thus [?], meaning that I have been unable to find the corresponding Chinese characters. In the following notes I shall refer to the French translation as the Histoire. When quoting from contemporary historical works, I shall keep the phonetic system of each work without adding the pin yin equivalent.
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.
3. Conclusion: Martino Martini, A True Chronicler
3.1 In the body of my paper I have concentrated on certain points of Ming-Qing history where Martino Martini's judgment appears to be defective in some respects. However, I would not like to leave the impression that Martini is a careless judge of people and events. On the contrary, it is not without difficulty that I have succeeded in tracing these four or five instances in which his judgment is at variance with that of 20th-century historiography. Of course, all along I have assumed contemporary historical judgment to be the more correct one. I think this assumption is right insofar as 20th-century historians can observe 16th-century events from a vantage point which was not available to Martino Martini. "Was it true glory? We must leave this arduous judgment to posterity" writes Alessandro Manzoni, the author of The Betrothed, in the ode written upon hearing the news of the death of Napoleon Bonaparte. (50) Only time makes it possible for us to come to know at least something of what has been going on behind the scenes and to assess the relative greatness of historical personalities. "This observation, far from belittling Martino Martini's contribution to history-writing, makes us wonder all the more at the basic correctness of the great majority of his historical judgments. In fact, there are dozens of evaluations in the De bello tartarico which have been vindicated as correct by modem historiography. In my opinion, therefore, Ma Yong's description of Martino Martini as a balanced and impartial judge of historical events and persons remains unshaken. Martini, Ma Yong writes, is a recorder of facts who "does not give excuses for the Ming nor for the Qing dynasties." (51)
3.2 The ground for such an independence and balance of judgment can perhaps also be probed. It seems to me that this ground is the staunchly ethical approach Martino Martini adopts in evaluating people and happenings. It is this ethical standpoint that allows him consistently to praise loyalty and condemn treachery, on whatever side they may show up. A sure sense of morality is what makes him condemn the Ming practice of executing unsuccessful generals and officials, (52) while at the same time condemning the Qing conquest as 'insolent' and the extermination of the previous dynasty at the hands of the Qing conquerors as 'tyrannical'. (53) Zhang Xian Zhong is criticized most harshly because "he [involved] the innocent in the punishment of the guilty." (54) Abahai is praised because he "tempered the cruelty which [his predecessors] had used against the conquered peoples, in order to gain their allegiance through love as well as by the force of arms. [...] So true is it that, in order to gain a kingdom, love is a machine more powerful than any weapon. On the contrary, cruelty causes the loss of empires which power joined to kindness seems to have established on unshakeable foundations." (55) It is clear that it is the absoluteness of moral values that enables Martini to steer a safe course in his endeavour to sift good from evil in the complexity of the human condition.
3.3 There is one kind of judgment in Martino Martini's 'History' which perhaps causes some problems and, therefore, calls for some interpretation. It is the kind of judgment which we could call 'theological'. We have seen one instance of such a theological judgment in Martini's explanation of the cause of the decline of the Ming dynasty after emperor Wan Li's reign. These theological judgments are based on Martino Martini's world-view, which was essentially shaped by the Christian faith in God as the Lord of History and the Judge of Human Destiny.(56) With regard to this kind of judgment I shall point out that our chronicler is as sincere and as convinced as in making his ethical judgments. Martini's theological judgments are not superstitious nor are they to be understood as a Christian's simple-minded, self-serving approach. Martini's theological judgments are of a piece with his ethical judgments. This can be seen from the fact that, for Martini, "being favourable to Christianity" is not of itself a sufficient ground for a positive judgment on a person. It is necessary that this pro-Christian attitude be united to moral behaviour. Martini's theological and ethical judgments share a common root. This root is the unshakeable conviction that there is a real difference between right and wrong, between good and evil, between true and false, and that this difference is absolute. So, for example, Martini's opinion of the rebel leader Zhang Xian Zhong is firmly negative, notwithstanding the latter's sympathy for Christianity. Listening to him in conversation, Martini says, one would think "that he was a Christian well instructed in the mysteries of the faith. As a matter of fact, he had a good knowledge of Christianity, drawn from books in print, in which the maxims of the Christian religion are explained in the Chinese language; but these explanations helped only to make him a more vicious criminal, because he knew the will of his heavenly Lord and despised it." (57)
3.4 Do Martino Martini's judgments show some kind of cultural limitation or time conditioning? Such a limitation and conditioning, of course, cannot be totally avoided. We are all children of our own times! Contemporary historians are no longer so reluctant to recognize this. On one particular point Martini seems to me to be unconsciously influenced by the social consciousness of his time and age. Martino Martini appears to take for granted the legitimacy and the validity of constituted authority. This is especially apparent in his uncompromising condemnation of the Peasant Rebellions. But it also crops up throughout his 'History' in the form of a certain incapacity to doubt the truth of the motivations of official decisions. He does not doubt that the Chong Zhen emperor's treatment of Yuan Chong Huan could be unjust. He does not doubt the justice of Dorgon's treatment of Haoge. Finally, he does not doubt the truth of the slanders against the memory of Dorgon. (58) In each case, the reluctance to doubt may be related to the fact that constituted authority is involved. And Martini's respect for constituted authority may be related to his theological and ethical convictions. Martini seems to think that authority cannot be properly constituted without the providential help of God who cares for the well-being of all peoples. Consequently, as long as authority is 'constituted' it is thereby also legitimate' and under God's special providential design. Perhaps this is the reason why Martini practically never doubts the motivation of legitimate authorities. Today, however, we are aware that such a way of thinking is a kind of "theological short-circuit". God wants his people to supervise its authorities, not to trust them too generously, because "power tends to corrupt". These limitations notwithstanding, however, Martino Martini's chronicle successfully shares in history's mission to be magistra vitae.
3.5 I must admit that possibly I have dwelt too long on the analysis of Martino Martini's historical judgments. After all, the value of a chronicler for history lies more in the factuality of his or her reports rather than in his or her value judgments. Martini himself is aware of this and so several times he points out that he personally witnessed the events he narrates. (59) At other times he tells us the source of his information. (60) Moreover, he is careful to indicate how far his information extends. Often he ends an account by practically saying: "This is what I know for sure. How events have further developed I don't know." (61) Martini shows himself well-informed also about what happened in the thirty years before his arrival in China, that is, before the year 1643. He had done his research work well, painstakingly and meticulously, that is, with the same scientific attitude that inspires his other works. Only by relying on more direct witnesses can one challenge some of his statements. (62) By now, therefore, I think we can confidently assert that Martini's qualifications as a chronicler are impeccable. Further, is he "a chronicler with a purpose"? Again, I think by now it is clear that we can reply: yes. But this purpose is the inescapable purpose of all true history, namely, to be a report of the past that opens the way to the future by pointing to the enduring validity, for man's dignity, of moral absolutes and of social justice under God.
3.6 In conclusion, we may say that Martino Martini is the kind of chronicler that historiography needs to obtain an adequate view of an era. Martini has only rarely been referred to in later European historiography of China. "This is perhaps due to the fact that he was the earliest European chronicler of the events of the Ming-Qing watershed and his accounts very soon entered into other better known presentations of Chinese history. (63) With regard to Chinese historians, Ma Yong states that the De bello tartarico "is of first-hand historical value and it is not ignored by Chinese scholars who are interested in the Qing dynasty." (64) Besides being a precious primary source for historians, I think Martino Martini can also be a model for contemporary chroniclers. Contemporary historians cannot dispense with the help of chroniclers of Martini's stature. Such chroniclers assist the historian to see things from the point of view of ordinary people. Only with an abundance of such chroniclers will history not be 'royal' or 'dynastic' or 'elitist' history, but truly what it should be, a "history of the people."
50. "Fu vera gloria? Ai posteri l'ardua sentenza!" Ode "5 maggio" by Alessandro Manzoni, poet and novelist. Manzoni's The Betrothed (I promessi sposi) is the greatest novel in Italian literature.
51. Ma Yong, 256.
52. Histoire, 387, 395.
53. Ibidem, 416-417, 436.
54. Ibidem, 446.
55. Ibidem, 315.
56. Cf. Ibidem, 382-383, 386, 444-445, 456, 458.
57. Ibidem, 448. It seems to me that Ma Yong somehow underestimates the depth of Martino Martini's moral and religious convictions when he says: "when taking sides, his main criterion was faithfulness to the Roman Curia." (Ma Yong, 257) On the other hand, Ma Yong is right in perceiving that fidelity to the Roman Pontiff is for Martini an ethical and religious imperative.
58. Histoire, 394, 454-455.
59. Histoire, 413, 418, 441.
60. Ibidem, 428. 446, 456, 457.
61. Histoire, 425, 426, 436, 444, 445, 454, 455.
62. This is what Pierre Joseph D'Orleans does regarding the response of the old father of Ming general Wu San Gui (1612-1678) to Li Zi Cheng's blackmail. Martini relates that Wu San Gui's father gave in to Li Zi Cheng's pressures (Histoire, 406-407). Pierre Joseph D'Orleans, instead, relying on the more direct witness of Adam Schall, has this to say: "This is the account which father Adam's letters give of the transaction; by which it is evident that the father Martini's recollections were not so exact, for he relates that Us [Wu San Gui's father] showed symptoms of weakness and entreated his son to submit to the tyrant. The father Adam, who was in the country, and even in the capital, at the time, is the more credible of the two." (D'Orleans, History, 17-18).
63. So, for example, one third of the first thirty pages of D'Orleans' History is an almost direct translation from Martini's De bello tartarico. D'Orleans acknowledges his debt to Martini in the Preface thus: "I follow in many things the fathers Martini and de Rougemont; but more especially the letters of father Adam Schall [...]." (History, iv) Another interesting use made of Martini's 'History' is the (Abdallae Beidavaei) Hisloria Sinensis. Persice e gemino Manuscripto edita, Latine quoque reddita ab Andrea Mullero Greiffenhagio. Accedunt eiusdem Notae nwrginales...Harmonia Abdallianae & Martinianae. caeterneque Europaeis traditae Historiae Sinensis perpetuis testimoniis ob oculos ponitur. Berolini, Typis Christophori Rungii, Anno MDCLXXVII, expressa, nunc vero una cunri additainentis edita ab Antonio filio. Quovultdeo Abrahain Mullero. Jenae, Prostat apud Johannern Bielkivm, 1689. This volume is no. 710 in the Section Latine of the Catalogue de la Bibliotheque du Pe-Tang (Pekin: Imprimerie des Lazaristes 1949). A copy of this Catalogue is kept in the library of the Interregional Catholic Major Seminary of Sheshan (Shanghai).