A Portent in the Heavens

In the summer of 1874, the imperial astronomers of the Qing Dynasty’s Bureau of Astronomy made a disturbing discovery: a comet had appeared in the northwestern sky. Night after night, they observed this celestial visitor, its tail stretching across the heavens like a cosmic broom. For ten consecutive days, it remained visible—an unusually long appearance that deeply troubled the court astronomers. Their calculations revealed an even more alarming detail: the comet’s tail appeared to be sweeping through the celestial region that served as protective barrier for the Purple Forbidden Enclosure, the astronomical counterpart to the emperor’s palace.

This astronomical phenomenon carried profound implications in the cosmological system that guided Chinese imperial governance. Comets, commonly known as “broom stars,” were traditionally viewed as harbingers of misfortune and disruption to the natural order. The specific positioning of this comet—seemingly brushing against the protective stars surrounding the imperial constellation—suggested potential danger to the emperor himself. In the intricate system of celestial correspondences that governed imperial life, this represented nothing less than a direct warning from heaven about the safety and conduct of the Son of Heaven.

Courtiers Seize the Moment

The celestial phenomenon created an opportunity for conservative officials at court to advance their political agenda. Two officials serving in the Hongde Palace—Xu Tong and Guang Shou—quickly recognized the potential to use this astronomical event to influence imperial behavior. They crafted a memorial that connected the heavenly warning to the emperor’s recent activities, particularly his frequent inspections of the Yuanming Yuan reconstruction project.

With elegant rhetoric that masked their political intentions, these officials framed their concerns as matters of imperial safety and filial devotion. They acknowledged that the emperor’s visits to the palace gardens demonstrated his earnest desire to honor his mother through the reconstruction project. However, they argued that the summer heat, unpredictable weather, and considerable distance to Haidian created unnecessary risks. The possibility of startled horses or other accidents during these journeys, they suggested, could compromise the emperor’s safety and thus jeopardize the stability of the empire.

Their carefully worded memorial emphasized the emperor’s dual responsibilities: his duty to the ancestral temples and the state, and his obligation to maintain the happiness of the two empress dowagers. By framing their argument in terms of cosmic harmony and filial piety rather than direct criticism, these officials skillfully used the celestial omen to curtail the emperor’s movements and influence court policy.

The Timber Deal Unravels

As celestial concerns occupied the court’s attention, a more earthly scandal was unfolding in Tianjin. The affair centered on Li Guangzhao, a merchant who had secured a contract to supply timber for the Yuanming Yuan reconstruction project. The trouble began when representatives of the American trading firm Russell & Company arrived in Tianjin with shiploads of timber, only to discover that Li was nowhere to be found.

The American merchants, having transported the wood from Fuzhou under contract with Li, turned to the United States consulate for assistance. Vice Consul Pethick delivered their complaint to Tianjin Customs Daotai Sun Shida, along with documentation showing that the three shiploads of timber were valued at approximately 54,000 silver dollars. For the first shipment that had already arrived, including compensation for delays, payment of 15,000 silver dollars was due.

This revelation exposed Li’s scheme. When Viceroy Li Hongzhang received Sun’s report about the situation, he was furious. Initially, however, he preferred to handle the matter discreetly rather than arresting Li immediately. He instructed Sun to find Li and pressure him to settle his accounts with the foreign merchants promptly.

The Elusive Merchant

Locating Li Guangzhao proved challenging. After the American merchants failed to find him, Sun Shida also struggled to track down the elusive timber supplier. The Tianjin customs official eventually enlisted the help of Tianjin Daotai Ding Shouchang, who dispatched men throughout the city to search for Li. They finally located him staying at a local inn, where they delivered the official summons from the customs authority.

Unbeknownst to the officials, Li had recently made a secret trip to Beijing in hopes of obtaining funds from his associate Cheng Lin. Li believed that 15,000 silver dollars—equivalent to approximately 11,000 taels of silver—would be manageable for Cheng to arrange. To his dismay, Cheng not only refused to help but demanded repayment of a 500-tael loan he had extended to Li months earlier.

Recognizing that this avenue had closed, Li hurried back to Tianjin under cover of darkness. There he began networking extensively, showing his official documents from the Imperial Household Department and his contracts with the foreign merchants to anyone who might advance him the necessary funds. His plan was straightforward: obtain a loan to pay for the timber, deliver the goods to the imperial project, and then seek reimbursement from the government. Failing that, he contemplated selling the timber privately and disappearing with the proceeds.

The Master Persuader

Li Guangzhao possessed remarkable persuasive abilities—he could, as the saying went, “make the dead speak.” With official documents, contracts, and actual goods anchored in the harbor, his story gained credibility. Eventually, he found a willing listener in a salt merchant from Changlu who agreed to provide the necessary funds without interest. The merchant’s only condition was that his name be included in any future petition to the throne requesting rewards for contributors to the imperial project.

With this financial backing secured, Li approached Sun Shida with renewed confidence. He arrived prepared with an elaborate explanation for the delayed payment. Sun immediately chastised him: “This is utterly disgraceful! If you claimed to be making this contribution to the throne, why haven’t you paid for the goods? Settle this account immediately before you bring further shame upon yourself!”

Li responded with remarkable composure: “Your Excellency, I have had the funds ready all along. I simply could not make the payment. Why? Because the dimensions of the timber do not match what was agreed upon. This being an imperial commission, I cannot proceed carelessly. I request that you contact the American consul and instruct Russell & Company to produce the original dimension specifications. Then everything will become clear.”

A Diplomatic Confrontation

When Sun asked for Li’s copy of the specifications, the merchant produced a document from his boot, presenting it respectfully with both hands. Sun noted that it appeared to be a copy rather than an original. Li explained that he had translated the original foreign-language document into Chinese for the official’s convenience. This revelation that Li claimed fluency in foreign languages impressed Sun, who now viewed the merchant with increased respect.

Emboldened by this positive reception, Li pressed his advantage. He requested that Sun demand through diplomatic channels that the American merchants be compelled to deliver timber according to the original specifications within a strict deadline so that materials could reach the Yuanming Yuan project without further delay.

Sun agreed to this approach and contacted the American consulate, asking them to pressure Russell & Company to produce the original contract. The American merchants, caught off guard by this development, had not brought their copies of the contract with them to Tianjin. This temporarily shifted the advantage to Li’s position.

International Complications

The American consulate carefully reviewed the case and identified a complicating factor: the actual supplier of the timber was a French merchant named Bavier, with Russell & Company serving merely as intermediaries. Recognizing that the American firm had limited financial exposure, the consulate decided to avoid entanglement in what was essentially a dispute between a Chinese merchant and a French supplier. They adopted a straightforward approach: directing the merchants to seek recourse through the French consulate while notifying Sun Shida that the United States would no longer involve itself in the matter.

The French consul, Dillon, then contacted the Tianjin Customs Authority with a formal request to detain Li Guangzhao to prevent his possible flight. Sun Shida, still sympathetic to Li’s position, refused this request. Instead, he sent a copy of Li’s “specifications” to the French consulate, hoping to facilitate what he described as “a fair completion of the transaction.”

Consul Dillon responded far more aggressively than his American counterpart had. In a sharply worded communication, he declared that whereas the case might have been resolved through joint examination, the customs daotai had already prejudged the matter based solely on Li’s claims. Under these circumstances, the French side would have to “pursue other avenues for resolution.”

Escalating Tensions

Sun Shida continued to defend Li’s position, engaging in written exchanges with the French consulate. However, officials in Viceroy Li Hongzhang’s office who handled foreign affairs grew increasingly concerned about the situation. However minor the commercial dispute might seem—involving merely one merchant and approximately ten thousand taels of silver—they recognized the danger of allowing it to escalate into a diplomatic incident between governments.

The viceroy’s office therefore instructed Sun to cease the written arguments and instead arrange a face-to-face meeting with French consular representatives to seek an amicable settlement. Sun complied with these instructions, meeting with French officials accompanied by interpreters. Unfortunately, both sides remained entrenched in their positions: Li continued to insist the timber dimensions were incorrect, while the French maintained that the goods matched contract specifications. Without the original contract present—it remained in Fuzhou—no resolution could be reached.

The Emperor Remains Uninformed

Throughout these developments, the emperor remained unaware of the growing scandal. Viceroy Li Hongzhang, despite his personal disgust with Li Guangzhao’s behavior, recognized that the situation implicated both imperial authority and officials within the Imperial Household Department. His preferred resolution remained simple: have Li pay for the timber and deliver it to Beijing, thus avoiding embarrassment for all involved. He therefore tolerated Sun Shida’s protection of Li, hoping to keep the truth concealed as long as possible.

By early July, however, this strategy became untenable. The French consulate’s increasingly assertive stance and Li’s increasingly brazen behavior made continued concealment impossible. What had begun as a simple commercial dispute now threatened to become an international incident that could embarrass the Qing government and undermine the already precarious position of foreign relations in the late imperial period.

The timber scandal, set against the backdrop of celestial warnings about imperial conduct, revealed the complex interplay between cosmological beliefs, court politics, and China’s increasingly complicated relationship with foreign powers during the late nineteenth century. These events demonstrated how traditional systems of interpretation and governance struggled to adapt to the new realities of international commerce and diplomacy that would increasingly challenge the Qing Empire in its final decades.