Discovering How Qing Dynasty Emperors Thought Through Their Edicts

There is a saying: “If you lack the fortune for it, don’t be born into the palace.” The terrifying struggles for power within the imperial court were undoubtedly felt most deeply by the emperor himself. Not only did he have to secure his own position on the throne, but he also had to prevent others from usurping it.

The emperor’s first command, the Proclamation of the Ascension to the Throne, and his final command, the Last Testament, were pivotal documents for consolidating imperial authority. Through the grand ceremonies and mobilization of issuing these edicts, the emperor shared his aspirations, his views on governance, and his solutions for contemporary issues within the realm. Reading these edicts today offers a glimpse into how emperors of the past approached the challenges before them.

The Institute of History and Philology (IHP) houses a fascinating collection of Qing dynasty edicts and official documents. This article highlights select edicts with explanations by Hsi-Yuan Chen, Research Fellow of IHP, and also the Chief Coordinator of the Grand Secretariat Archives Project. Through his interpretations, the emperors and their ministers come alive, revealing the hidden thoughts embedded within their words.

Secrets to the edicts

During the Qing dynasty, significant national events or grand ceremonies—such as an emperor’s ascension to the throne, marriage, assumption of personal rule, passing, or major disasters—were always accompanied by the issuance of edicts by the emperor. These edicts served as formal, institutionalized proclamations to announce policies and decisions critical to the development of the state.

Qing dynasty edicts followed a standardized format, beginning with the phrase, “By the Mandate of Heaven, the Emperor proclaims” and ending with, “Let this be proclaimed throughout the realm so all may know.” These lines are familiar to many through historical dramas, but what do they actually mean?

“By the Mandate of Heaven, the Emperor proclaims” means the emperor who receives direction from Heaven and leads the fortune of the nation to proclaim the decrees as follows.

“Let this be proclaimed throughout the realm so all may know” displays that the above mentioned decrees, through reciting it out loud, are meant to be heard and understood by everyone.

The size of Qing dynasty edicts was actually quite large, requiring two adults to hold each end in order to fully unfold it. This is quite different from the small scrolls often seen in television dramas. The original edict would be stamped with the imperial seal, bearing the inscription “Emperor’s Treasure” at the era name and the fold, known as the “Precious Edict.”

Copies of the edict, made for distribution to various regions, were reprinted and called “Teng Huang,” literally yellow duplicates, and they lacked the “Emperor’s Treasure” seal. To determine whether the edict in hand is an original or a copy, one simply needs to check if the “Emperor’s Treasure” seal appears at the era name and fold.

As the ruling dynasty of a multi-ethnic empire, the Manchu Qing dynasty sought to preserve its own language and culture. Therefore, Qing dynasty official documents were generally written in both Chinese and Manchu.

The Chinese text was written vertically from right to left, while the Manchu text was written from left to right, both meeting in the middle. This bilingual format was also used in imperial edicts.

Although it’s possible to infer the meaning of the Manchu text by comparing it to the Chinese version, historians still need to learn Manchu, as not all Qing documents were bilingual. For example, secret memorials from officials to the emperor were sometimes written entirely in either Manchu or Chinese. Additionally, during military operations in the northwest, urgent military reports were often written solely in Manchu.

Delivery of official documents and the Loss Incident

The edict would first be ceremoniously issued in Beijing, the capital of the Qing dynasty. In addition to the Precious Edict (original), which was sealed with the imperial seal, the Board of Rites would also create several copies, known as Teng Huang (duplicates). The herald would carry one original Precious Edict and several Teng Huang copies to designated locations for reading. Afterward, the Precious Edict would be returned to the capital.

Once the regions received the Precious Edict or the Teng Huang copies, they were required to issue the order and report to the Board for verification. If necessary, additional copies of the Teng Huang would be made and sent to various localities within the jurisdiction.

Given the varying distances, in 1703, specific deadlines for the round-trip journey of heralds were established. For example, the time limit for travel between the capital and regions like Henan and Shanxi was set at 30 days.

Whilst the imperial edicts were delivered to the local governments, they were not statically displayed to the public. Instead, heralds would recite the content out loud. Therefore, people who were illiterate could understand the emperor’s decrees.

Although the selection criteria for heralds are still unclear today—whether it required good looks or special training—it is likely that they were individuals with clear speech and loud, pleasant voices. After all, there were no microphones back then, and announcing proclamations was no easy task.

Due to the vast expanse of the Qing dynasty’s territory, although telegraphs were available during Emperor Guangxu’s reign, communication before that relied solely on the transmission of physical documents. A round trip between the capital and Guilin took as long as 105 days, inevitably causing issues of political asynchrony.

For example, after the local governments received the document announcing the emperor’s passing, they had to report back on when they received it and when they began mourning. However, it resulted in variations in mourning practices across different regions.

Nowadays, the government officials need to carry passports or related documents with them for identification during business trips. In the Qing dynasty, the heralds visiting different places for the purpose of delivering the edicts also needed to have an official document in order to prove that they were government officials.

The documents they carried with them would demonstrate their identification, for the local relay stations might not know who they were. In addition, the heralds could not bring too much luggage with them during their trips. Hence, each relay station would rely on the official document when providing food, soldiers and horses to help the heralds complete their task of delivering the edicts.

In 1835, the practice of appointing heralds was abolished, and edicts were instead transmitted through relay stations. However, an official document was still required to accompany the transmission of the edict, so the “Bingbu Huopiao” (Board of War Fire Tickets) used for the delivery of general official documents was adopted.

On the upper right corner of the Bingbu Huopiao, the phrase “馬上飛遞” (mashang fei di, fast delivery by horse) was written in Chinese, while on the lower right corner, the same phrase was written in Manchu. Upon seeing these four characters, one would know to quickly mount a horse and deliver the official document to its destination.

In the Qing dynasty, standard edicts were delivered at a pace of 300 li per day. In the most urgent situations, the edict would explicitly state “travel at 600 li per day at full speed.” With one li being approximately 500 meters, this meant covering roughly 300 kilometers daily on horseback, an arduous task with unimaginable physical exhaustion and discomfort from prolonged riding.

As goes the saying “Men make mistakes; horses stumble,” there was an incident where an official document was lost. In 1777, the Executive Premier Shuhede reported to Emperor Qianlong that a document that had to be sent with the “speed of 600 li per day at full speed” was lost. Shuhede regarded this mistake as the local governor’s negligence and dismissed him from his position.

If you were a forgetful person and traveled back to the Qing dynasty, you should never look for a job in the local relay station because you would not get paid but instead get into trouble.

Emperors’ legitimacy in their own words

Of all the imperial edicts that emperors issued in their reign, there were two kinds of document that were particularly important. These are the Proclamation of the Ascension to the Throne and the Last Testament.

The emperor’s first and last edicts were critical to the legitimacy of the succession and the continuity of the dynasty. From a 21st-century perspective, this is akin to the inaugural and farewell addresses of presidents or CEOs of major corporations.

During an inauguration, corporate leaders look to set the tone for their leadership and announce future policies, while upon stepping down, they will respond to evaluations of their tenure and address public opinions, officially marking the conclusion of their term.

In the Proclamation of the Ascension to the Throne, the new emperor would usher in a new beginning by granting an amnesty. However, those guilty of the most heinous crimes such as rebellion, treason or parricide would be punished within the strict rules of the empire. Apart from this, the Proclamation also contains a list of rewards that are applicable to those entitled to receive them.

Nowadays when a political leader comes into office, they might adopt extraordinary methods to create a fresh start. The emperor of the Qing dynasty, however, was the heir of the previous emperor, namely his father. He had to embrace his father’s will. Following that, the new emperor would not implement a more distinctive policy or make an impetuous decision.

There was not any edict for the death of Emperor Nuerhachi and the first emperor Hong Taiji of the Qing dynasty, and there were no royal rites for the edict announcing the death of the emperors previously. However, Emperor Shunzhi adopted the Han Chinese people’s respect for the last edict of the emperor and made himself a legal monarch.

It turns out that after Emperor Chongzhen of the Ming dynasty committed suicide, he left no last edict, meaning there was no clear instruction on succession. This provided the Qing forces with an opportunity to claim that the Ming regime had lost its legal basis for continuity. Consequently, they declared that the southern officials and generals who established independent regimes were illegitimate.

Emperor Shunzhi and the Qing army, who gave Emperor Chongzhen a ceremonial burial, adopted a political strategy by issuing the Proclamation of the Ascension to the Throne. Through this edict, they proclaimed to the realm: “The Qing forces entered the Central Plains under the mandate of heaven, and I am the new sovereign! Any former subjects of the Ming who submit to me will be accepted and regarded as my people.”

Emperor Shunzhi, shortly before his death, discussed the content of his last edict with his minister Wang Xi. The edict issued by the Emperor Shunzhi is the only one in the history of the Qing dynasty that was self-reproachful in nature, in which he solemnly and painfully listed the flaws in his governance.

This was partly because Emperor Shunzhi passed away at the young age of 24. Being a sensitive and deeply thoughtful Pisces, he naturally reflected on his past shortcomings. He hoped his successor would build upon the foundation he had laid for the dynasty and, with a heart full of anxiety, wished for the nation’s enduring stability and prosperity.

Compared to Emperor Shunzhi’s Edict of Self-Admonition, Emperor Kangxi’s last edict focused on emphasizing his lifelong dedication and staunch defense of traditional imperial rule and Qing orthodoxy.

In the edict, Kangxi repeatedly referenced Zhuge Liang, highlighting the heavy burdens of being an emperor—without breaks or rest days—unlike ordinary officials who could retire at the age of 60. For the emperor, retirement was not an option. Kangxi expressed a desire for virtuous ministers like Zhuge Liang, who would devote themselves to their duties until their final moments. Does this sound a bit like a complaint? Perhaps it reflects the unique “elite worries” of an emperor.

In 1717, Emperor Kangxi convened princes, dukes and ministers to orally draft the contents of his last edict. However, this draft made no mention of his chosen successor. Therefore, when, on his deathbed, he abruptly declared that the throne would pass to his fourth son, Yinzhen (later Emperor Yongzheng), and specified this in his final edict, it was a twist that took everybody by surprise.

This dramatic, almost theatrical episode of the Qing succession has become a favorite subject for modern historical dramas. For instance, the TV series Scarlet Heart heavily dramatizes the controversy surrounding Yinzhen’s ascension.

At the time, both within the palace and among the public, many felt dissatisfied with this decision. As a result, upon ascending to the throne, Emperor Yongzheng issued the Proclamation of the Ascension to the Throne to assert, “I am my imperial father’s most beloved and rightful heir.”

In plain language, Emperor Yongzheng’s Proclamation of the Ascension to the Throne could be summarized as a warning: “Although Emperor Kangxi once appointed the Crown Prince (the second prince, Yinreng), he repeatedly deposed and reinstated him, proving that Yinreng was unfit due to his instability and incompetence. Thus, Kangxi entrusted the great responsibility of succession to me. To all my brothers, nephews, and relatives—do not covet the throne or act recklessly!”

Some believe that Emperor Yongzheng tampered with Kangxi’s last edict to seize the throne. Since we will never be able to travel back in time and witness the events firsthand, the truth will likely remain a mystery. However, historians have observed from other sources that Yongzheng, even as a prince, was diligent and ambitious in laying the groundwork for his future. It was through this meticulous planning that he ultimately stood out among so many contenders for the throne.

In the Qing dynasty, not all emperors issued last edicts in the name of their predecessors. In 1795, the 84-year-old Emperor Qianlong ceremoniously appointed his 15th son, Yongyan, as Crown Prince, preparing to formally abdicate the following year.

The implicit message was that Emperor Jiaqing (Yongyan) would act as the public figurehead, while Emperor Qianlong would become the main behind-the-scenes figure. But how did he convey this intent?

He made it abundantly clear in the edict of abdication issued in 1796 on New Year’s Day, where Qianlong wrote: “In all important state and military affairs, and major appointments, I have not yet grown weary of my duties and will not seek leisure for myself.”

In plain terms, this meant: “For critical military and administrative matters, I’m not so lazy yet as to hand them over to others. Decisions about warfare and key official appointments are still my responsibility, and no one else should interfere.” Although Emperor Jiaqing was already in his 30s at the time, the reins of power remained firmly in Qianlong’s hands.

It was only in the fourth year of Jiaqing’s reign (1799), when Qianlong passed away as the “Retired Emperor,” that the transition of power was complete. Since only emperors could issue edicts, the court formally announced his death under the title of the Last Mandate of the Grand Retired Emperor.

Although becoming an emperor is no longer possible, the public can gain insight into the thoughts of past emperors through their edicts. These documents remind us that living as an ordinary person, free from such extraordinary burdens, can be a blessing.