Empress Orchid (28 page)

His Majesty’s life was coming to an end. For Tung Chih’s sake I needed him to live. I worked without a break. My meals had been reduced from five a day to two. Sometimes I ate just one. To make sure that I ate well, An-te-hai hired a new chef from my hometown of Wuhu, whose best dish was my childhood favorite: tomato, onion and cabbage soup. An-te-hai used a special bamboo container to keep the soup bowl warm.

I often woke to find that I had been sleeping at my desk, slumped on my folded arms. I no longer bothered to have my hair styled. I wanted to spend more time with Tung Chih, but I had to leave him entirely to Nuharoo. I continued working on court documents, sometimes until dawn. An-te-hai would wait beside me, holding a blanket in case I asked for it. He would fall asleep sitting on a stool. Now and then I heard him murmuring in his dreams: “No more ‘congratulations,’ Confucius!”

“What else can I do?”

To Su Shun’s dismay, I answered His Majesty. “I would not yield to the Russians.” I spoke softly but with purpose. “The Russians are taking advantage of our troubles with the French and British. China should not give the idea that we are an easy rib for anyone to chew upon.”

“I hope you are listening well,” said Hsien Feng. “Show … our strength.”

Su Shun nodded. “Yes, Your Majesty.”

“Go back to the Russians tomorrow and don’t return until the task is accomplished.” With a heavy sigh Emperor Hsien Feng turned away from Su Shun.

In disbelief Su Shun bade His Majesty goodbye. Before he walked out, he gave me a nasty look. It was clear that he regarded Hsien Feng’s respect for me as a personal humiliation.

It didn’t take long for Su Shun to spread rumors about me. He
warned the court that I had ambitions to take over the throne. He succeeded in provoking the clans’ elders, who came forward to protest. They urged His Majesty to remove me from his residence.

Prince Kung stood up for me. He was more than clear about his brother’s state of mind. His Majesty wouldn’t even come to the Hall of Spiritual Nurturing unless I was there. In Prince Kung’s view, Su Shun was the one whose ambitions were inappropriate.

For His Majesty’s health, Doctor Sun Pao-tien recommended complete quiet, so we moved back to Yuan Ming Yuan. The season went deep into winter. Long, withered brown and yellow weeds lay like frozen waves. The wind continued to be harsh. The creeks and brooks that meandered through the gardens were now iced over and looked like dirty ropes. Emperor Hsien Feng said they reminded him of guts that had fallen out of the belly of a slaughtered animal.

The quietness was broken when Su Shun and Prince Kung came with urgent news. They stood beside His Majesty’s ornate black wooden bed and reported that the British and French demanded an audience.

Emperor Hsien Feng sat up in his bed. “I can’t accept that they want to revise and amend the treaties. What is there to be revised or amended? They are creating an excuse for another attack!”

“Still, would you consider granting the audience?” Prince Kung asked. “It is important to maintain communication. My Tsungli Yamen can work on the format until Your Majesty feels comfortable—”

“Nonsense! We don’t need those appeasers,” Su Shun interrupted, pointing a finger at Prince Kung.

Hsien Feng raised his hand to silence Su Shun. He was aware that the court had split regarding how to handle the situation, with Su Shun and Prince Kung leading opposing sides.

“An audience is too much for them to ask,” Hsien Feng said. “I won’t allow the barbarians to come to Peking.”

The usual procession of eunuchs and maids entered with tea. Everyone was dressed magnificently. Whenever I walked in my garden, all I felt was the power and glory around me. Even the crickets on the garden walkways had a touch of nobility; they were fat and green and more robust than those I saw in the countryside. Yet it all might come to an end.

“The foreigners are coming with troops,” Prince Kung reminded his brother after a long silence.

“Death to them!” Su Shun’s voice was charged. “Your Majesty, it’s time to issue a warrant to take the British ambassador hostage. He will be forced to withdraw the troops.”

“What if he refuses?” Prince Kung asked.

“Behead him,” Su Shun replied. “Trust me, when the enemy’s leader is caught, the rest will surrender. Then we can send General Seng-ko-lin-chin with the Bannermen to collect the rest of the barbarians’ heads.”

“Are you out of your mind?” Prince Kung countered. “The British ambassador is only a messenger. We will lose the moral high ground in the world’s eye. It will give our adversaries a perfect excuse to launch an invasion.”

“Moral ground?” Su Shun sneered. “What ground do the barbarians have regarding their behavior in China? They make demands of the Son of Heaven. How dare you side with the barbarians! Are you representing His Majesty the Emperor of China or the Queen of England?”

“Su Shun!” Prince Kung’s face turned red and his hands were clenched. “It’s my duty to serve His Majesty with truthfulness!”

Su Shun walked up to Emperor Hsien Feng. “Your Majesty, Prince Kung must be stopped. He has deceived the court. He and his father-in-law have been in charge of all the negotiations. Based on the outcome of the treaties and information provided by my investigators, we have reason to suspect that Prince Kung has profited from his position.” Su Shun paused, his body pivoted toward Prince Kung as if cornering him. “Haven’t you made deals with our enemies? Haven’t the barbarians promised you that when they enter the Forbidden City, you will harvest more shares?”

The veins on Prince Kung’s neck grew thick, and his eyebrows twisted into a gingerroot. He jumped on Su Shun, knocking him to the ground, and started punching him.

“Manners!” Emperor Hsien Feng called. “Su Shun had my permission to express himself.”

His Majesty’s words crushed Prince Kung. He dropped his hands and threw himself down on his knees. “My Imperial brother, nothing will be achieved by taking their ambassador. I will bet my head on it. The situation will only go against us. Instead of backing down, they will send their fleets to our shores. I have studied long enough to know their ways.”

“Of course.” Su Shun got back on his feet, his long sleeves fluttering in the air. “Long enough to develop connections and long enough to forget who you are.”

“One more word, Su Shun,” Prince Kung clenched his jaws, “and I’ll pull your tongue out!”

Despite Kung’s warnings, an edict was issued to capture the ambassador of Britain. For the next few days the Forbidden City was quiet. When the news came that the ambassador had been taken, Peking celebrated. Su Shun was hailed as a hero. Almost immediately, reports of foreign attacks along the coastline took away the excitement. The documents sent to His Majesty from the frontier smelled of smoke and blood. Soon the papers were piled high against the walls. I had no way of sorting them. The situation went exactly as Prince Kung had predicted.

August 1, 1860, was the worst day for Emperor Hsien Feng.

Nothing now could stop the barbarians. Prince Kung was denounced and his Tsungli Yamen dismissed. Calling themselves “the Allies,” the British came with 173 warships and 10,000 soldiers, the French with 33 ships and 6,000 soldiers. Then the Russians joined in. Together, the three landed a force of 18,000 men on the shores of the Gulf of Chihli.

Going against the immense fortified earthworks that straddled the mouth of the Yellow River and the seaboard, the Allies scrambled ashore, sinking knee-deep in slime, and shot their way to dry ground. They then began to move toward Peking. General Seng-ko-lin-chin, the commander of Imperial forces, sent word to the Emperor that he was prepared to die—in other words, all hopes of protecting the capital were fading.

Other reports depicted bravery and patriotism, which filled me with sadness. China’s ancient way of fighting wars had become an embarrassment—only barriers made of bamboo stakes defended our forts and their complex of dikes and ditches. There was no chance for our soldiers to display their masterly martial-arts combat skills. They were shot down before they were even in sight of the enemy.

The Mongolian cavalry was known for its invincibility. Three thousand vanished in one day. The Westerners’ cannons and guns swept them away like dry leaves in a late-autumn wind.

Emperor Hsien Feng was soaked in sweat. A high fever had consumed so much of his energy that he could no longer eat. The court feared his collapse. When his fever broke, he asked me to draft five edicts to be delivered immediately to General Seng-ko-lin-chin. In His Majesty’s voice I informed the general that troops were being gathered from all over the country, and that in five days there would be a rescue led by the leg-
endary General Sheng Pao. Nearly twenty thousand more men, including seven thousand cavalry, would arrive and join the counterattack.

In the next edict, I wrote as His Majesty spoke to his nation.

The Hall of Luminous Virtue was damp from days of heavy rain. It felt like we were inside a giant coffin. A makeshift throne was built around Emperor Hsien Feng’s bed, which was raised on a temporary platform. More and more ministers came seeking emergency audiences. Everyone looked as if they were already defeated. Etiquette was neglected, and people argued and debated in loud voices. A number of elders passed out in the middle of their arguments. On the frontier the bullets and cannon shells were as thick as hail. Lying on his chair, the Emperor read the updated reports. His fever had returned. Cold towels were placed on his face and over his body. The pages slipped through his trembling fingers.

Two days later the news of the fall came. The first was the upper north fort, taken after fierce fighting under an intensive bombardment from both sides. The Allies pressed on. Seng-ko-lin-chin claimed that shells hitting the powder magazines in the northern forts had crippled his defenses.

On August 21, Seng-ko-lin-chin gave in, and the Taku forts surrendered. The path to Peking was now open.

• • •

The Allies were reported to be only twelve miles from the capital. General Sheng Pao’s troops had arrived, but proved to be of no avail. The day before, the general had lost his last division.

People hustled in and out of the audience hall like cut-paper characters in jerky motion. The words in which everyone wished His Majesty longevity sounded empty. This morning the clouds were so low that I could feel the air’s moisture with my fingers. Toads hopped all over the courtyard. They seemed desperate to move. I had ordered the eunuchs to clear away the toads an hour before, but they had returned.

General Seng-ko-lin-chin was on his knees in front of His Majesty. He begged for punishment, which was granted. All his titles were stripped from him and he was ordered into exile. He asked if he could offer His Majesty one last service.

“Granted,” Emperor Hsien Feng murmured.

Seng-ko-lin-chin said, “It’s close to a full moon …”

“Get to the point.” The Emperor turned his head toward the ceiling.

“I …” Fumbling with his hands, the general pulled out a tiny scroll from his robe’s deep pocket and passed it to Chief Eunuch Shim.

Shim opened the scroll for the Emperor to see. “Go to Jehol,” it read.

“What do you mean?” asked Emperor Hsien Feng.

“Hunting, Your Majesty,” Seng-ko-lin-chin replied.

“Hunting? You think I am in the mood to go hunting?”

Carefully, Seng-ko-lin-chin explained: it was time to leave Peking; it was time to forget appearances. He was suggesting that the Emperor use the traditional hunting grounds at Jehol as an excuse to escape. In the general’s view the situation was irreversible—China was lost. The enemies were on their way to arrest and overthrow the Son of Heaven.

“My rib cage, Orchid.” His Majesty struggled to sit. “It feels like there are weeds and stalks growing inside. I hear wind blowing through them when I breathe.”

I gently massaged Hsien Feng’s chest.

“Is that a ‘yes’ to the hunting?” Seng-ko-lin-chin asked.

“If you don’t believe me, you can touch my belly with your hand,” His Majesty said to me, ignoring Seng-ko-lin-chin. “Come on, knock on my chest. You’ll hear an empty sound.”

I felt sorry for Hsien Feng, for he had no vocabulary for or understanding of what he was feeling. His pride had deserted him, yet he couldn’t help but continue to regard himself as the ruler of the universe. He simply couldn’t live any other way.

“I shall have the hunting grounds prepared, then.” Seng-ko-lin-chin dropped the words and quietly retreated.

“A mother rat is going into labor!” His Majesty burst out in hysterical cry. “She is delivering babies in a pile of rags in a hole behind my bed. My palace is going to be full of rats. What are you waiting for, Lady Yehonala? Aren’t you going to accompany me to hunt in Jehol?”

My thoughts raced. Were we to leave the capital? Were we to give up our country to the barbarians? We had lost ports, forts and coasts, but we had not lost our people. Surely we should stay in Peking, because even when the barbarians arrived we would have a chance to fight if our people were with us.

If Emperor Hsien Feng were a strong man, he would have acted differently. He would have set himself as an example to lead the nation to war; he would have gone to the frontier himself. And if he died, he would have preserved China’s honor and saved his own name. But he was a weak man.