A Dynasty in Transition

The mid-19th century represented one of the most challenging periods in China’s long imperial history. The Qing dynasty, ruled by the Manchu ethnic minority, found itself grappling with internal decay and unprecedented external threats. Western powers, armed with superior military technology and driven by imperial ambitions, forced China into a series of unequal treaties that compromised its sovereignty and exposed the weakness of the celestial empire.

Against this backdrop, the imperial court became a complex theater of power struggles, where traditional Confucian values clashed with the pragmatic need for modernization. The Xianfeng Emperor’s death in 1861 created a power vacuum that led to the Xinyou Coup, bringing to power a new regency led by the two empress dowagers, Ci’an and Cixi, alongside Prince Gong, who emerged as a leading figure in the new government.

Prince Gong, the sixth son of the Daoguang Emperor, had demonstrated considerable diplomatic skill during negotiations with Western powers following the Second Opium War. His establishment of the Zongli Yamen, China’s first foreign affairs office, marked a significant step toward engaging with the outside world. However, his Western-leaning tendencies and modernizing approaches created tension with more conservative elements at court who viewed foreign influence as corrosive to traditional Chinese values.

The Gathering Storm

The political crisis surrounding Prince Gong began subtly, through seemingly minor breaches of court protocol that accumulated into serious charges. The immediate trigger occurred when Prince Gong, during an extended audience with the empress dowagers, allegedly committed a grave breach of etiquette by mistakenly reaching for the imperial teacup—a yellow dragon-decorated vessel reserved exclusively for the monarch. This act, though perhaps unintentional, symbolized in the conservative view an erosion of the sacred distance between the ruler and the ruled.

The incident might have passed with a simple reprimand had it not been exploited by Prince Gong’s political opponents. Cai Shouqi, an official with connections to conservative factions, formally accused the prince of multiple offenses, including disrespect toward the throne and accumulation of excessive power. These accusations found receptive ears among those who resented Prince Gong’s modernizing policies and his perceived arrogance.

As the crisis deepened, the court divided into factions. The conservative camp, led by officials like Woren, saw an opportunity to curb foreign influence and reassert traditional values. Meanwhile, Prince Gong’s supporters recognized the accusations as politically motivated attacks meant to undermine the progressive policies that threatened established interests.

The Prince’s Arrival

The tension reached its peak on the thirteenth day of the third lunar month when Prince Chun, the seventh prince and brother-in-law to both the empress dowagers and Prince Gong, arrived urgently from the Eastern Tombs construction site. Without even changing his travel-worn clothes, he immediately summoned Cao Yuying, a secretary from the Grand Council, to his residence at Taiping Lake.

Prince Chun’s dramatic entrance into the capital signaled the gravity of the situation. As a close relative to both the ruling empress dowagers and the accused prince, his position was particularly delicate. His immediate condemnation of Cai Shouqi as a troublemaker demonstrated his alignment with Prince Gong, but his subsequent actions revealed a more nuanced approach to the crisis.

In his meeting with Cao Yuying, Prince Chun displayed unexpected political sophistication. While expressing outrage at the treatment of Prince Gong, he recognized the need for a carefully calibrated response. He understood that completely dismissing the charges would imply that the empress dowagers had acted erroneously—an untenable position given their supreme authority. Instead, he proposed acknowledging minor faults while emphasizing Prince Gong’s indispensable service to the dynasty.

The Art of Political Persuasion

The drafting of Prince Chun’s memorial to the throne became an exercise in political craftsmanship. Cao Yuying, an experienced bureaucratic hand, recognized the need to balance several competing imperatives: defending Prince Gong without challenging imperial authority, acknowledging technical breaches of protocol while affirming the prince’s fundamental loyalty, and appealing for mercy without appearing to demand it.

The final memorial masterpiece acknowledged that Prince Gong might have been “careless in speech” on occasion—a minor admission that actually reinforced his overall record of service. The document suggested that the empress dowagers might personally admonish the prince and allow him to correct his behavior, thus preserving imperial dignity while creating a path for reconciliation.

This approach represented a significant advancement over Prince Dun’s earlier suggestion to submit the matter to full court discussion. By keeping the resolution within the imperial family while still acknowledging the need for corrective action, Prince Chun’s proposal offered a face-saving solution for all parties involved.

Behind Palace Walls

The personal dynamics within the imperial family added layers of complexity to the political crisis. Prince Chun’s wife, who was also the younger sister of Empress Dowager Cixi, provided intriguing insights into the personal dimensions of the conflict. Her description of the incident suggested that what appeared to be a major constitutional crisis might have originated from something as simple as a forgotten protocol—the failure to offer Prince Gong tea during an extended audience, leading to his mistaken reach for the imperial cup.

This domestic perspective revealed how palace rituals, however seemingly trivial to outsiders, carried profound symbolic weight in maintaining the mystique of imperial power. The fact that such a minor breach could escalate into a major political crisis demonstrated the fragility of power relationships within the court and the importance of ritual in upholding imperial authority.

Meanwhile, Prince Gong himself maintained an outward appearance of calm, receiving visitors in his garden and affecting an air of detached amusement. Yet his private comments to Prince Chun revealed deep frustration and disillusionment. His reference to historical patterns of self-destruction through internal conflict showed his awareness that the controversy represented more than personal grievance—it reflected fundamental tensions within the Qing system of governance.

The Shadows Behind the Throne

Prince Gong’s recitation of a memorial criticizing the influence of palace attendants pointed to another dimension of the crisis: the growing power of eunuchs like An Dehai in court politics. The comparison to the late Ming dynasty, when eunuch influence had contributed significantly to dynastic decline, underscored the serious concerns about informal channels of power undermining formal bureaucratic structures.

This aspect of the crisis revealed the continuing tension between the Confucian ideal of governance by moral merit and the reality of palace politics, where personal access and influence often trumped official position and competence. The fact that a eunuch like An Dehai could allegedly influence decisions about senior princes demonstrated how the imperial court, despite its elaborate bureaucratic apparatus, remained vulnerable to personal intrigues.

The conservative officials who supported the action against Prince Gong represented another powerful interest group. Figures like Woren embodied the Neo-Confucian orthodoxy that viewed Western learning and technology as fundamentally incompatible with Chinese values. For them, Prince Gong’s modernization efforts represented not progress but cultural betrayal, making his removal from power a necessary defense of traditional civilization.

The Institutional Response

The institutional machinery of the Qing government continued to operate throughout the crisis, gradually redistributing Prince Gong’s responsibilities to other princes. The appointment of Prince Su as head of the Imperial Clan Court and Prince Chun to oversee the Hongde Palace, where the young emperor received his education, systematically stripped Prince Gong of his formal positions and influence.

This bureaucratic response demonstrated the Qing system’s capacity for self-preservation even amid significant political turmoil. The empire could not afford prolonged uncertainty at the highest levels of government, particularly given the ongoing challenges from foreign powers and domestic rebellions. The reassignment of Prince Gong’s duties ensured administrative continuity even as the political crisis played out.

The conversation between Prince Chun and Fang Dingrui, another Grand Council secretary, revealed how procedural technicalities could be weaponized in political conflicts. The observation that officials had failed to properly circulate the empress dowagers’ edict—despite its instruction that it be “seen by all imperial princes and ministers”—provided potential grounds for counterattack against Prince Gong’s opponents.

Cultural Dimensions of the Crisis

The controversy surrounding Prince Gong reflected broader cultural tensions within late Qing society. The struggle between modernizers and traditionalists was not merely about political power but about China’s cultural identity in an increasingly interconnected world. Prince Gong represented those who believed China must adapt to survive, even if adaptation meant borrowing from foreign traditions.

The conservative opposition embodied the conviction that preservation of cultural purity mattered more than material advancement. For officials like Woren, the rituals and protocols of court behavior were not mere formalities but essential expressions of the Confucian moral order. A prince who reached for the imperial teacup wasn’t just breaching etiquette—he was challenging the cosmological foundations of imperial authority.

This cultural conflict played out in debates over education, military modernization, and foreign relations. The fact that a seemingly minor breach of protocol could trigger such a significant political crisis demonstrated how deeply these cultural anxieties ran through the Qing establishment. The personal became political in the most profound sense, with individual actions interpreted as symbols of larger cultural orientations.

The Personal Toll of High Politics

Behind the formal politics and cultural conflicts, the crisis took a personal toll on those involved. Prince Gong’s admission of disillusionment revealed the psychological burden of navigating the treacherous waters of court politics. His feigned nonchalance in his garden concealed the frustration of a reformer who believed his efforts to strengthen the dynasty were being undermined by petty intrigues.

For Prince Chun, the crisis created painful divided loyalties between family obligations and political realities. His marriage to the empress dowager’s sister created natural affinity with the throne, while his fraternal relationship with Prince Gong and shared commitment to modernization pulled him in another direction. His attempt to mediate the crisis required careful navigation of these competing attachments.

Even secondary figures like Cao Yuying faced professional and personal risks in navigating the crisis. As a Grand Council secretary, his drafting of Prince Chun’s memorial required exquisite sensitivity to the nuances of political language and the shifting balances of power at court. A poorly worded phrase could damage not only his career but his personal safety in a system where political missteps could have severe consequences.

Legacy and Historical Significance

The crisis surrounding Prince Gong in 1865 represented a critical juncture in late Qing history. Its resolution—which eventually saw Prince Gong restored to power, though with diminished influence—established patterns that would characterize court politics for the remainder of the dynasty. The empress dowagers, particularly Cixi, demonstrated their ability to balance competing factions while maintaining ultimate authority.

The episode revealed the limits of reform within the traditional imperial system. Despite Prince Gong’s considerable accomplishments and political skills, he remained vulnerable to attacks based on ritual propriety and palace intrigue. This vulnerability would constrain subsequent reform efforts, as officials recognized that substantive policy changes risked triggering similar cultural and political backlashes.

The conservative victory, though partial and temporary, demonstrated the continued power of traditionalist ideologies within the Qing establishment. Their ability to mobilize ritual propriety as a political weapon against modernizing influences would hamper China’s response to growing external threats in subsequent decades, contributing to the dynasty’s ultimate collapse in 1912.

Most significantly, the crisis revealed the structural weaknesses of the late Qing political system. The concentration of power in the imperial household, the tension between formal bureaucracy and informal influence, and the difficulty of reconciling cultural preservation with practical adaptation all contributed to the dynasty’s inability to effectively respond to the challenges of the modern world. The teacup incident, however minor in itself, thus became a symbol of larger dynastic vulnerabilities that would ultimately prove fatal to imperial China.