IN MAY OF 1858, Prince Kung brought the news that our soldiers had been bombarded while still in their barracks. The French and English forces had assaulted the four Taku forts at the mouth of the Peiho. Horrified at the collapse of our sea defenses, Emperor Hsien Feng declared martial law. He sent Kuei Liang, Prince Kung’s father-in-law, now the grand secretary and the court’s highest-ranking Manchu official, to negotiate peace.
By the next morning Kuei Liang was seeking an emergency audience. He had rushed back the night before from the city of Tientsin. The Emperor was again ill, and he sent Nuharoo and me to sit in for him. His Majesty promised that as soon as he gathered enough strength he would join us.
When Nuharoo and I entered the Hall of Spiritual Nurturing, the court was already waiting. More than three hundred ministers and officials were present. Nuharoo and I were dressed in golden court robes. We settled in our seats, shoulder to shoulder, behind the throne.
Minutes later Emperor Hsien Feng arrived. He dragged himself onto the platform and landed breathlessly on the throne. He looked so frail that a breeze might have caused him to fall. His robe was loosely buttoned. He hadn’t shaved, and his beard had sprouted like weeds.
Kuei Liang was summoned to come forward. His appearance shocked me. His usual placid and benevolent expression was replaced by extreme nervousness. He seemed to have aged a great deal. His back was hunched and I could barely see his face. Prince Kung had come with him. The dark shadows under their eyes told me that neither had slept.
Kuei Liang began his report. In the past I recalled his countenance as one full of intelligence. Now his words were inarticulate, his hands palsied, his eyes dimmed. He said that he had been received with little respect from the foreign negotiators. They used the Arrow incident, in which Chinese pirates were caught sailing under a British flag, as an excuse to shun him. No evidence had been provided to substantiate their claims. It all could have been a conspiracy against China.
Emperor Hsien Feng listened grave-faced.
“In the name of teaching us a lesson,” Kuei Liang continued, “the British launched an assault on Canton, and the entire province was brought down. With twenty-six gunboats between them, the British and French, accompanied by Americans-‘impartial observers,’ they said-and by Russians who joined for the spoils, have defied Your Majesty.”
I didn’t have a full view of my husband’s face, but I could imagine his expression. “It is against the terms of the previous treaty for them to sail upriver toward Peking,” Emperor Hsien Feng stated flatly.
“The winners make the rules, I am afraid, Your Majesty.” Kuei Liang shook his head. “They needed no more excuse after attacking the Taku forts. They are now only a hundred miles from the Forbidden City!”
The court was stunned.
Kuei Liang broke down as he offered more details. As I listened, an image pushed itself in front of my eyes. It was from the time I witnessed a village boy torturing a sparrow. The boy was my neighbor. He had found the sparrow in a sewage pit. The little creature looked like it was just learning to fly and had fallen and broken its wing. When the boy picked the bird up, the feathers dripped with dirty water. He placed the bird on a steppingstone in front of his house and called us to come and watch. I saw the tiny heart pumping inside the bird’s body. The boy flipped the sparrow back and forth, pulling its legs and wings. He kept doing it until the bird stopped moving.
“You failed me, Kuei Liang!” Hsien Feng’s shout woke me. “I had put my faith in your success!”
“Your Majesty, I pathetically presented my death warrant to the Russian and American envoys,” Kuei Liang cried. “I said that if I yielded one more point, my life would be forfeited. I told them that my predecessor, the viceroy of Canton, was ordered by Emperor Hsien Feng to commit suicide because he had failed in his mission. I said the Emperor had ordered me to come to a reasonable and mutually advantageous peace and that I had promised him that I would agree to nothing that will be detrimental to China. But they sneered and laughed at me, Your Majesty.” The old man collapsed on his knees, sobbing in shame. “I… I… deserve to die.”
To witness the tears of the respectable Kuei Liang was heart-breaking. The French and English demanded indemnities and apologies for wars against us started on our soil. According to Prince Kung, they had declared that recent events had rendered the previous agreements null and void. Grand Councilor Su Shun, who was dressed in a red court robe, warned that this was the pretext for the barbarians’ next move, which would be to hold a gun to the head of Emperor Hsien Feng.
“I have failed myself, my country and my ancestors,” Hsien Feng cried. “Because of my inadequacy, the barbarians have preyed on us… China has been violated, and the guilt is mine alone to bear.”
I knew I had to ask for permission in order to speak, but anger overcame me and I said, “Foreigners live in China by the good grace of the Emperor, yet they have harmed us in more ways than we can find words to express. They are causing our government to lose prestige in the eyes of our people. They leave us no choice but to despise them.”
I wanted to continue, but choked on my own tears. Only a few weeks earlier I had sat behind Hsien Feng as he thundered about war and ordered “death to the barbarians.” What was the use of more words? As events played out, the Emperor of China would soon be forced to make an apology for the “treachery of his troops who had defended the Taku forts against the British the previous year.” China would be forced to agree to pay to its invaders an enormous amount of taels as compensation.
The Emperor needed to rest. After a short recess, Kuei Liang spoke again. “The Russians have come to join the thievery, Your Majesty.”
Hsien Feng took a deep breath and then asked, “What do they want?”
“To redraw the northern border by the Amur and Ussuri rivers.”
“Nonsense!” Hsien Feng yelled. He began to cough, and his eunuchs rushed to him and wiped his neck and forehead. He pushed them away. “Kuei Liang, you have allowed this to happen… you! ”
“Your Majesty, I deserve no more pardons, and I am not asking for any. I am prepared to hang myself. I have already bid farewell to my family. My wife and children reassured me that they would understand. I just want to let you know that I did my best and was unable to get the barbarians to negotiate. They only threatened war. And…” Kuei Liang paused and turned to his son-in-law.
Prince Kung stepped up and finished Kuei Liang’s sentence for him. “The Russians fired their cannons yesterday. Due to fear that they might threaten the capital, Minister Yi Shan signed the treaty and accepted the Russians’ terms. Here, Your Majesty, is a copy of the treaty.”
Slowly, Emperor Hsien Feng picked up the document. “North of the Amur River and south of the Wai-hsin-an Mountain area, isn’t it?”
“Correct, Your Majesty.”
“That is a vast area.”
Many in the court knew all too well the extent of this loss. Some began to weep.
“Su Shun!” Emperor Hsien Feng called, slumping in his seat.
“I’m here, Your Majesty.” Su Shun stepped forward.
“Behead Yi Shan and remove Kuei Liang from all his posts.”
My heart went to Kuei Liang as guards escorted him out of the hall. During the next break I found a moment to speak with Prince Kung. I asked him to do something to stop the decree. He told me not to worry. He made me understand that Su Shun was in charge, and that he wouldn’t carry out Hsien Feng’s order. He answered yes only to appease His Majesty. The court trusted Su Shun to change the Emperor’s mind; everyone knew it would be impossible to replace Kuei Liang.
In the passing months Emperor Hsien Feng had become ever more dependent on Su Shun and his seven grand councilors. I prayed that Su Shun would be able to hold up the sky for His Majesty. Although I didn’t like Su Shun, I didn’t intend to be his enemy. I would never dream of offending him, yet one day it would become unavoidable.
It had been snowing for three days. Outside the gate there were drifts two feet deep. Although the coal heaters were burning, it was still too cold for comfort. My fingers were as stiff as sticks. Buried in his fur coat, Hsien Feng sprawled on a chair in the Hall of Spiritual Nurturing. His eyes were closed.
I sat at the desk, summarizing documents for him. For the past few months I had again become the Emperor’s secretary. He had simply run out of energy and asked me to help by picking out the most urgent letters to respond to. His Majesty spoke the words and I formed them into replies.
It was challenging, but I was thrilled to help. All of a sudden I was no longer an abandoned concubine. I no longer had to stitch misery onto hoops. I was given a chance to share His Majesty’s dream of reviving China. It made me feel good-my energy was inexhaustible. For the first time in ages I saw true affection in his eyes. Late one night when Hsien Feng woke up in his chair, he offered his hand for me to hold. He wanted me to know that he appreciated my help. He no longer called for Summer, one of his Chinese concubines, or for Nuharoo, even when I begged him to take walks with her.
I visited Nuharoo to spend time with Tung Chih, who slept with his wet nurses nearby. I updated her on what I had worked on with His Majesty. She was pleased with my humbleness.
Every day before dawn, I got dressed and went to the Hall of Spiritual Nurturing on a palanquin. Right away, I began sorting official papers into several boxes. Emperor Hsien Feng was usually still asleep in the next room. I would line up the boxes in order of urgency. By the time the sun rose and the Emperor came to me, I was ready to brief him. He would debate with himself and weigh his decisions. Sometimes he would have a discussion with me, and afterward I was expected to draft the necessary edicts.
I made suggestions that I hoped would complement His Majesty’s thoughts. One day he came in late and a box needed immediate attention. To save time, I drafted a proposal in his style. When I read it to him for approval, he made no changes. The edict was sent with his seal stamped on it.
My confidence grew after that. From then on, Hsien Feng asked me to draft edicts on my own and brief him later. I was nervous at first; I wanted to consult Prince Kung or Su Shun, but I knew I couldn’t.
One morning I finished drafting seven documents and had begun an eighth. It was a tough one. It had to do with an item in a treaty with which I was not familiar. I decided to wait. When I heard His Majesty getting up, I took the draft to him.
Hsien Feng was half reclining on a rattan chair, his eyes closed. A eunuch was spoon-feeding him a bowl of deer blood soup. It must have tasted awful, for His Majesty’s expression reminded me of a child whose finger got pricked by broken glass. The soup dripped from his mouth. I had just begun to read the draft when I heard Chief Eunuch Shim’s voice. “Good morning, Your Highness. Su Shun is here.”
“Is His Majesty in?” came Su Shun’s voice. “The matter can’t wait.”
Before I was able to retreat, Su Shun walked directly toward Emperor Hsien Feng. His Majesty opened his eyes halfway and saw Su Shun on his knees. I stood by the wall and hoped that Su Shun wouldn’t notice me.
“Rise,” Emperor Hsien Feng uttered. The eunuch quickly wiped the mess off his chin and sat him upright. “Is it about the Russians again?”
“Yes, unfortunately,” Su Shun replied, rising. “Ambassador Ignatyev refuses to negotiate on our terms and has announced the date of the attack.”
The Emperor leaned to the right while his hand went to rub his side. “Orchid, did you hear Su Shun?” He threw the draft at me. “Tear it up! What’s the use of issuing edicts? What else can I do? My blood has been sucked dry and the wolves won’t leave me alone!”
Su Shun was startled to see me. His eyes narrowed. He kept turning his head back and forth between Emperor Hsien Feng and me.
I knew I had offended him by my mere presence. He stared at me and his eyes shouted, Go back to your embroidery!
But I was obligated to give Hsien Feng an answer. I hoped that Su Shun would assume that the Emperor trusted me for a reason, and that my assistance had been valuable.
Surely if Su Shun asked, His Majesty would praise me. Last month there had been a report of a flood in Szechuan province. Hundreds of peasants had lost their homes. Food was scarce. When Hsien Feng heard that many families were eating their dead children to survive, he issued a decree to have the governors of Kiangsu and Anhwei open their stores. But there was no grain left. The storehouses had been emptied long before to fund the battles against the Taipings and the foreigners.
I suggested that His Majesty squeeze the money out of corrupt bureaucrats. I proposed that he order government officials nationwide to report their incomes. In the meantime His Majesty should send inspectors to audit their books to see if the reports matched what had really been earned.
“That might provoke resentment,” His Majesty said.
“Not if we add a clause to the decree stating that no one would be charged with embezzlement if the guilty individuals donated their improper money to the victims of the flood disaster.”
The decree worked beautifully. Emperor Hsien Feng rewarded me with permission to visit my family. From then on, His Majesty trusted me to issue most of the decrees. I became even more confident. In the Emperor’s voice I encouraged criticism and suggestions from all the governors. I benefited from their comments and proposals.
While I felt fulfillment and satisfaction, I was also concerned about Hsien Feng’s growing lack of interest in his work. It was hard not to be affected by his increasing pessimism. He was now in a great deal of physical pain and was depressed most of the time. When I brought in Tung Chih, he had no energy to play with him. He would send him away within minutes. He no longer proofread the edicts I drafted. When state reports arrived, he expected me to take care of them. He didn’t even want me to consult with him. When I passed him those that I thought he must be made aware of, he would push my arms away and say, “The bugs inside my head have built their nests so thick that I can’t think.”
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 treacherous barbarians were willing to sacrifice our faith in humanity. They advanced toward Tungchow. Shamelessly they announced their intention to compel me to receive them in audience. They threatened that any further forbearance on our part would be a dereliction of duty to the Empire.
Although my health is in a grievous state, I saw myself doing nothing else but fighting until my last breath. I have realized that we could no longer achieve peace and harmony without force. I am now commanding you, our armies and citizens of all races, to join the battle. I shall reward those who exhibit courage. For every head of a black barbarian [British Sikh troops] I shall reward 50 taels, and for every head of a white barbarian, I shall reward 100 taels. Subjects of other submissive states are not to be molested, and whensoever the British and French demonstrate repentance and withdraw from their evil ways, I shall be pleased to permit them to trade again, as of old. May they repent while there is still time.
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.
Tung Chih was brought in by Nuharoo for dinner. Despite the weather he looked like a snowball, wrapped in a white fur coat. He was being fed pigeon meat with a slice of steamed bread. He seemed cheerful and was playing a rope game with An-te-hai called Tie Me Up, Tie Me Down. Lying on his bed, Hsien Feng watched his son. He smiled and encouraged the child to challenge the eunuch. I saw an opportunity to speak.
“Your Majesty?” I tried not to sound argumentative. “Don’t you think the nation’s spirit will collapse if its Emperor… is absent?” I avoided the word “deserts.” “A dragon needs a head. An empty capital will encourage looting and destruction. Emperor Chou Wen-wang of the Han Dynasty chose to abscond during his kingdom’s crisis, and the result was that he lost his people’s respect.”
“How dare you make this comparison!” Emperor Hsien Feng spat tea leaves on the floor. “I have decided to leave for the security of my family, you included.”
“I think demonstrating the court’s strength to the people is crucial to China’s survival,” I said softly.
“I don’t feel like talking about this right now.” His Majesty called his son over and started to play with him. Tung Chih ran by laughing, eventually hiding under a chair.
I ignored Nuharoo, who was gesturing with her hands for me to quit. I continued, “Tung Chih’s grandfather and great-grandfather would have stayed if they faced this situation.”
“But they weren’t given the situation!” Hsien Feng exploded. “I re-sent them. It was they who left this mess to me. When the first Opium War was lost in 1842, I was just a boy. I inherited nothing but trouble. All I can think of these days are the indemnities I am forced to pay. Eight million taels to each country! How could I possibly satisfy that?”
We argued until he ordered me to go back to my living quarters. His last words remained in my head all night long. “Another word out of you, and you will be rewarded with a rope to hang yourself!”
Nuharoo invited me for a walk in her garden. She said that her bushes, withered by some blight, had attracted a rare kind of butterfly.
I told her that I was in no mood for butterflies.
“They might be moths. Anyway, they are pretty.” Paying no attention to me, she went on. “Let’s go and catch butterflies. Forget about the barbarians.”
We got into our separate palanquins. I wished that I could make myself enjoy Nuharoo’s invitation, but in the middle of the outing I changed my mind. I ordered my bearers to carry me to the Hall of Luminous Virtue. I sent a messenger to Nuharoo and asked for forgiveness, saying that the Emperor’s decision to desert the capital weighed too heavily on my mind.
In the hallway I ran into all my brothers-in-law: Prince Kung, Prince Ch’un and Prince Ts’eng. Prince Ch’un told me that they had come to persuade His Majesty to remain in Peking. For that I was glad and became hopeful.
I waited in the garden until tea was served before entering. I went inside and sat down by Emperor Hsien Feng. I noticed other guests. Besides the princes, Su Shun and his half-brother Tuan Hua were also there. For the past two days Su Shun and Tuan had been making arrangements for the Emperor to go to Jehol. Beyond the walls, the sound of carriages coming and going had become constant.
“I gave up Peking because I have not heard any news from General Sheng Pao!” Hsien Feng argued. “The rumors say that he has been captured. If that is the case, the barbarians will reach my courtyard in no time.”
“Your Majesty!” Prince Kung fell from his chair to the ground. “Please don’t desert!”
“Your Majesty.” Prince Ts’eng, the fifth brother, also on his knees, lined himself up next to Prince Kung. “Will you stay for a few more days? I shall lead the Bannermen to battle the barbarians myself. Give us a chance to honor you. Without you…” Ts’eng was so overcome he had to stop for a moment. “… there will be no spirit.”
“The Emperor has made up his mind,” Hsien Feng announced coldly.
Prince Ch’un went to kneel between Prince Kung and Prince Ts’eng. “Your Majesty, deserting the throne will encourage the barbarians’ madness. It will make future negotiation much more difficult.”
“Who says I am deserting the throne? I am only going hunting.”
Prince Kung laughed bitterly. “Any child on the street will say ‘The Emperor is running away.’”
“How dare you!” Emperor Hsien Feng kicked a eunuch who came to serve him medicine.
“For the sake of your health, Your Majesty, pardon us.” Prince Ts’eng grabbed the Emperor by the legs. “Allow me to bid farewell, then. I am going to expose myself to the cannons.”
“Stop being silly.” Hsien Feng rose and helped Prince Ts’eng back to his feet. “My brother, once I am out of reach, I can pursue a more consistent policy on the battlefield.” He turned to Su Shun. “Let us go before the sky lightens.”
The determination of Kung, Ch’un and Ts’eng made me proud of being Manchu. I was not surprised at Hsien Feng’s cowardice. Losing the Taku forts had broken him, and he now merely wanted to slip away and hide.
In Hsien Feng’s dressing room Su Shun came forward. “We must hurry, Your Majesty. It will take several days to get to Jehol.”
Su Shun’s half-brother Tuan came in. He was a skinny man with a long and crooked neck, which made his head tilt to one side. “Your Majesty,” he said, “here is the list of things we have packed for you.”
“Where are my seals?” the Emperor asked.
“They have been taken from the Hall of the Blending of Great Creative Forces and properly chambered.”
“Orchid,” Hsien Feng said, “go and check on the seals.”
“Your Majesty, there is no need,” Su Shun said.
Ignoring Su Shun, Emperor Hsien Feng turned to Prince Kung, who had entered the room. “Brother Kung, you’re not dressed to travel. You are coming with me, aren’t you?”
“No, I am afraid not,” Prince Kung replied. He was dressed in an official blue robe with yellow trim on the sleeves and collar. “Someone has to stay in the capital and deal with the Allies.”
“What about Ts’eng and Ch’un?”
“They have decided to stay in Peking with me.”
The Emperor sat down and his eunuchs tried to put on his boots. “Prince Ch’un will have to guard me on the journey to Jehol.”
“Your Majesty, I am begging you for the last time to consider remaining in Peking.”
“Su Shun,” Emperor Hsien Feng called impatiently, “prepare a decree to authorize Prince Kung as my spokesman.”
What to take to Jehol had become a problem for me. I wanted to take everything, because I had no idea when I would return. Yet the most valuable things were not portable. I had to leave behind my paintings, wall-sized embroideries, carvings, vases and sculptures. Each concubine was allowed one carriage for her valuables, and mine was already filled. I hid the rest of my cherished things wherever I could-on top of a beam, behind a door, buried in the garden. I hoped that no one would discover them until I returned.
Nuharoo refused to leave any of her belongings behind. As the chief Empress she was entitled to three carriages, but they were not enough. She loaded the rest of her things into Tung Chih’s carriages. Tung Chih had ten, and Nuharoo took seven of them.
My mother was too ill to travel, so I made arrangements for her to move to a quiet village outside Peking. Kuei Hsiang was to be with her. Rong would also stay behind.
At ten o’clock in the morning the Imperial wheels started to roll. Emperor Hsien Feng wouldn’t leave without a ceremony. He sacrificed livestock and bowed to the gods of Heaven. When his palanquin passed the last gate of the Grand Round Garden, Yuan Ming Yuan, officials and eunuchs threw themselves on their knees, kowtowing farewell. The Emperor sat inside with his son. Tung Chih told me later that his father wept.
The Imperial household stretched for three miles. It looked like a festival parade. Firecrackers were thrown into the sky to “shock away bad omens.” The ceremonial guards carried yellow dragon flags while the palanquin bearers carried the Imperial families. The nobles walked in columns. Behind us were incense burners, monks, lamas, eunuchs, ladies in waiting, servants, guards and royal animals. The crowd was followed by a band with drums and gongs and the entire kitchen on legs. Near the tail of the line were dressing rooms on legs and chamber pots on legs. Footmen guided the horses and donkeys that carried fire-wood, meat, rice and vegetables in deep baskets along with kitchen utensils such as pots and woks. At the rear were seven thousand cavalrymen, led by Yung Lu.
As we passed the last gate, my eyes were blurred with tears. Shops along the streets were abandoned. Families ran like headless hens, carrying their possessions on donkeys and on their backs. The news of Emperor Hsien Feng’s desertion had sent the city into chaos.
A few hours later I asked that my son be brought to me. I sat him on my lap and held him tight. To him this was just another outing. As the palanquin rocked, he fell asleep. I ran my fingers through his soft black hair and fixed his queue. I wished that I could teach Tung Chih how to be strong. I wanted him to know that one should never take peace for granted. He was cosseted by servants, used to seeing beautiful women at his bedside. It pained me to hear Tung Chih say that he wanted to grow up to be just like his father-with beauties as his playmates.
A few days before, a case of theft in the Forbidden City had been reported. No one confessed to the crime, and there were no obvious suspects. I was put in charge of the investigation. I sensed that the eunuchs were involved, because someone had to move the valuables. The maids couldn’t go outside the gates without permits. I also suspected members of the royal family. They knew where the valuables were.
As the investigation went on, my suspicions were proven correct. Apparently the concubines had colluded with the eunuchs to split the profits. Ladies Mei, Hui and Li were found to be involved. Hsien Feng was furious, and he ordered them thrown out of their palaces. It was Nuharoo and I who talked him out of his rage. “It is a terrible time to expect nobility from everyone,” we said. “Haven’t we had enough embarrassment?”
Sitting inside the palanquin all day made my joints ache. I thought of the people who were walking on their blisters. After we got out of Peking, the road became bumpier and dustier. We stopped at a village for the night, and I met with Nuharoo. I was surprised by the way she had dressed. She looked like she was going to a party. She carried an ivory fan and a small incense burner. Her robe was made of golden satin embroidered with Buddhist symbols.
For the entire trip Nuharoo wore the same robe. It took me a while to realize that she was more than terrified. “In case we are attacked and I am killed,” she said, “I want to be sure to enter my next life in proper dress.”
It didn’t make sense to me. If we were attacked, her robe would be the first thing anyone would rob. She might end up being naked in her next life. I had heard back in Wuhu that tomb robbers would chop off a dead person’s head for what was around the neck, and hands for what was on the fingers.
I made sure to dress as plainly as possible. Nuharoo told me that my dress, which I took from an elderly maid, disgraced my status. Her words made me feel safer. When I tried to dress Tung Chih the same way, Nuharoo became upset. “For Buddha’s sake, he is the Son of Heaven! How dare you dress him like a beggar!” She took off Tung Chih’s plain cotton robe and changed him into a gold-laced robe, one with symbols that matched hers.
The villagers didn’t know what was going on; the bad news from Peking hadn’t reached them. They certainly couldn’t tell that disaster was near from the way Nuharoo and Tung Chih dressed. They were simply honored that we chose to stop in their village for the night, and served us steaming-hot whole wheat buns and vegetable soup.
Messengers sent by Prince Kung came and went. There was one bit of good news amid all the bad. An influential foreign officer named Parkes, along with another named Loch, had been captured. Prince Kung was using them as leverage for negotiations. The last messenger reported that the Allies had taken the Forbidden City, the Summer Palace and Yuan Ming Yuan. “The Allied commander is living in Your Majesty’s bedroom with a Chinese prostitute,” the messenger reported.
His Majesty’s pale face was dripping with sweat. He opened his mouth but was unable to utter a word. A few hours later he coughed up a bolus of blood.