Guang-hsu asked me to move with him to Ying-t'ai, the Ocean Terrace Pavilion, which stood on an island in the South Sea lake next to the Summer Palace. The seclusion, he said, would help him concentrate.
Ying-t'ai was a paradise that had long been unoccupied. Its elegant buildings, which were in need of repair, were linked to the mainland by a narrow causeway and a drawbridge. The pavilion had marble terraces dropping straight into the water, with canals spanned by pretty bridges between them.
In the summer the surrounding lakes were covered by flotillas of green lotus. By August large pink flowers would shoot up from the green mats. The views were astonishing. When the restoration work started, I was asked to rename the living quarters. I chose the names Hall of Cultivating Elegance, Chamber of Quiet Rest, Study of Reflection on Remote Matters and Chamber of Singleness of Heart.
I was beginning to realize that there could be dignity without friends. I found myself becoming more attracted to Buddhism. Its promise of peace was appealing, and it did not discriminate against women, as did Confucianism. The Buddhist pantheon included women, prominent among them the goddess of mercy, Kuan-yin, with whom I felt a special affinity. The truth was that I had nowhere else to turn.
I believed in mercy, but I was losing faith in the people around me. For example, I had thought that my fairness toward house eunuchs would assure their honesty and gain their loyalty, but with a piercing look straight in the eyes I would catch a liar.
I had asked my eunuch Chow Tee to send a honey-nut cake to Li Lien-ying, who was away on vacation for the first time in twenty-nine years. When Chow Tee reported Li Lien-ying's thanks to me, I asked, "Did you deliver the cake yourself?"
"I did, of course. I ran, so Chief Li could have the cake while it was still hot."
"It's raining outside, isn't it?" I asked.
"Yes."
"How is it that your clothes are completely dry?"
In the end, the liar suffered ten strokes of a bamboo stick.
Trying to calm myself, I looked at the blooming camellia outside my window. The trees were loaded with fat buds. It was hard to believe that Li Lien-ying had turned fifty. He was thirteen when An-te-hai first brought him to me.
I was now sixty-one and had become suspicious of others and increasingly questioned my own judgment. I repeatedly warned that I would tolerate no liars, but lying had always been a part of the life of the Forbidden City. Since our war with Japan, I had never received a single report of a military loss. The only news the court sent was of victory, for which I foolishly awarded promotions and bonuses.
On impulse, I would pick a moment to test my eunuchs and ladies in waiting. I felt sick at heart, yet I couldn't act differently. I had to be unpredictable and domineering. I made it a rule to be swift with the rod. This had become my way to survive mentally.
I tried to let go of small matters. For example, I did not pursue his punishment when Li Lien-ying poked a hole ("to let out the air") in all of my champagne bottles-Li Hung-chang's gifts from France. The eunuch believed that the popping sound would harm me.
Throughout 1896 I had worked daily with Emperor Guang-hsu and was pleased with his progress. He desperately tried to catch up on the court's business but faced tremendous obstacles, and getting things organized was our first step. I rose early and walked the stone bridges to get my mind ready for the day. I watched the lotus from their early budding to their final blooming. I caught the first flower, which opened on a summer dawn.
I felt at odds with the tranquility of the setting. As I watched my eunuchs plunging waist-deep in the mire to extract lotus roots for my breakfast, my mind struggled with whether or not I should press the Emperor to approve Li Hung-chang's recent proposal to secure additional loans. We were behind in our current payments, and the foreign banks were threatening. It was clear to us that the foreign powers were after our territories and were looking for any pretext to invade.
When the stir-fried lotus roots were served, Guang-hsu had no appetite. I sat beside him but had no words to comfort him. By now I had learned that Guang-hsu most often craved to be left alone. I had been worrying about his health, but I dared not utter a question or even encourage him to pick up his chopsticks.
After finishing my meal, I quickly rinsed my mouth and went into the office to prepare for the morning audiences. Guang-hsu would follow in a few minutes. I would wait for the eunuchs to finish dressing him and we would get into our palanquins.
Withdrawing from audiences in the afternoon, Guang-hsu and I would continue to discuss the day's issues. Often we had to summon ministers and officials for detailed information. When Guang-hsu saw me begin to yawn, he would beg me to stop and relax. I would ask him for a cigarette, and he would light it for me. I would smoke and continue to work until dark.
"China has given no offense, has done no wrong, does not wish to fight, and is willing to make sacrifices," Robert Hart's article read. "She is a big 'sick' man, convalescing slowly from the sickening effects of centuries, and is being jumped on when down by this agile, healthy, well-armed Jap-will no one pull him off?"
Guang-hsu and I hoped that Hart's remarks would help China gain sympathy and support from the rest of the world. Unfortunately, things went in the opposite direction. Our defeat by Japan only encouraged the Western powers to take further advantage of us. "The worm has reduced the stout fabric of China to handfuls of dust"-the remnants were there for anybody to take.
We had lost Korea, and our new navy lay in ruins. After slavishly emulating Chinese civilization for centuries, the Japanese had nothing but supercilious scorn for the true fountainhead of Eastern wisdom. The world seemed to have forgotten that as recently as 1871, Japan had paid tribute to China as a vassal state.
Like everyone else, Guang-hsu suspected that Li Hung-chang had cut private deals with the foreigners for his own benefit. "Li could have done better with the treaties," he insisted. Guang-hsu's only evidence was that Li Hung-chang entrusted his son-in-law with the military supplies of the army.
"That's because Li's experience with your uncles, brothers and cousins was so terrible," I told him. "Li has committed no corruption-it is the way of China to rely on personal connections. Focus on what you have gained. Li has succeeded in securing the funding to rebuild the navy."
"I can't forgive him for squandering the opportunity for an early defense!" Guang-hsu's voice pierced through the hallway. "He sold us down the river!"
Guang-hsu couldn't live with the fact that we had been forced to sign the Shimonoseki Treaty, the most humiliating ever signed by an emperor in Chinese history.
"Japan provided opportunities for him to make money. Am I not right that Li Hung-chang is the wealthiest man in China?"
"I will not kick the family dog," I said quietly. "I'd rather fight the bully neighbor. Li didn't want to take part in the negotiations in the first place. He was sent," I reminded Guang-hsu, "by you and me. The Japanese rejected the representative you had sent before him. Li was the only man whose credentials the Japanese considered adequate."
"Exactly!" Guang-hsu said. "They picked him because he was a friend. Japan knew Li would cut them a good deal."
"For heaven's sake, Guang-hsu, the bullet just missed Li's eye! If it hadn't been for his near assassination, Japan would have pushed for its original demands, and we would have lost all of Manchuria plus three hundred million taels!"
"It is not I alone who accuses Li." Guang-hsu showed me a document. "The court censor has been investigating. Listen." He read, "'Li Hung-chang was heavily invested in Japanese businesses, and he did not wish to lose his dividends through protracted war. He seems to have been afraid that the large sums of money from his numerous speculations, which he had deposited in Japan, might be lost; hence his objections to the war.'"
"If you can't tell that attacking Li Hung-chang is itself an action against the throne, there is no way that I can or should work with you." I was upset.
"Mother." Guang-hsu got down on his knees. "I only share with you what I know. You rely on Li so much. What if he is not who you think he is?"
"If only we had a choice, Guang-hsu." I sighed. "We need him. If Li hadn't played on international jealousies, Japan would not have withdrawn from the Liaotung Peninsula."
"But Japan charged us another thirty million taels in compensation and indemnities," Guang-hsu said bitterly.
"We were the defeated nation, my son. It was not all up to Li Hung-chang."
Guang-hsu sat quietly biting his lips.
I begged him not to take Li for granted. "Only we can balance Li Hung-chang's graft against what he is able to bring us."
When I asked how the reception with the foreign delegation went, Guang-hsu replied flatly, "Not well." He sat down and stretched his neck. "I am sure the foreigners were equally disappointed. They spent so much time and energy trying to secure the audience, only to find out how dull I was."
I remembered my husband Hsien Feng's comments when foreigners requested an audience with him. He felt that he would only be giving them an opportunity to spit in his face.
"I couldn't stand the sight of them," Guang-hsu said. "I tried to tell myself, I am meeting with individuals, not the countries that bullied me."
"You received all the delegates?" I asked.
Guang-hsu nodded. "Russia, France, England and Germany acted like dogs. They tried to make me commit to borrowing more money. What could I do? I told them China couldn't afford it anymore. I told them that all my revenues go to pay the Japanese indemnity."
The foreign bankers were savage dealmakers, I remembered Li Hung-chang once told me. "What happened in the end?"
"In the end? I borrowed from all of them, pledging my customs revenue and transit and salt taxes as security."
The pain in his voice was unbearable. I felt helpless and tremendously sad.
"I am unprepared for what's coming." My son sighed again. "The Russians continue to transport troops and supplies by our railway across Manchuria to the sea."
"We granted them the right only in times of war, not in times of peace." I could hear the weariness in my own voice.
Guang-hsu shook his head. "The Russians are determined to keep their Trans-Siberian running in times of peace as well, Mother."
Stepping out on the terrace for fresh air, I held my son's shoulders. "Let's hope Li's scheme of using one barbarian to control another will work."
Guang-hsu was not sure. "Japan is approaching Peking," he said, "and we have lost our sea defense completely."
I stood in the wind and tried to get through the moment.
For my son, each day brought another decision, another defeat, another humiliation. He had been living in a manure pit. Tung Chih had been lucky: death had helped him to reach peace.
Darkness filled the room after Li Lien-ying retreated. I lay against soft pillows and recalled that once Li Hung-chang had advised me to deposit gold and silver in banks outside China.
"In case Japan…" I remembered that he was afraid to say more, but I got the idea: I might be forced to flee China. The image of Queen Min burned alive was never far from my thoughts.
Li Hung-chang must have assumed that I was a wealthy woman. He had no idea how penniless I was. I was too embarrassed to let anyone know that I had sold my favorite opera troupe. I owned practically nothing but my seven honorary Imperial titles. Li hadn't insisted on having me consult the English bank managers in Hong Kong and Shanghai. But when he left my palace, he was no longer confused-he understood more than ever where I stood in terms of China's survival.
Guang-hsu and I had expected that the Western powers would cease their aggression after the deals were executed, but in May of 1897 Germany found another excuse to attack us. The incident began when Chinese bandits robbed a village in Shantung near the port of Kiaochow, a German settlement. Houses were burned and the inhabitants were murdered, along with two Roman Catholic German missionaries.
Before our government had a chance to investigate, a German squadron proceeded to Kiaochow and seized the port. China was threatened with the severest repression unless it instantly agreed to pay compensation in gold and prosecute the bandits.
The Kaiser made sure that his protest was heard by the world: "I am fully determined to abandon henceforth the overcautious policy which had been regarded by the Chinese as weakness, and to show the Chinese, with full power and, if necessary, with brutal ruthlessness, that the German Emperor cannot be made sport of and that it is bad to have him as an enemy."
Four days later, my son came to me with the news that the Chinese garrison of Kiaochow had been routed. After its capture, Guang-hsu was forced to lease the port and the land around it, in a fifty-kilometer radius, from Germany. The ninety-nine-year lease came with exclusive mining and railway rights in the area.
Guang-hsu had trembled as he listened to Li Hung-chang describe what would happen if he refused to sign.
In the next few months, Li would bring more bad news: Russian warships sailed into fortified Port Arthur, as they were allowed to by the treaty of 1896, and announced that they had come to stay for good. By March of 1898, Port Arthur and the nearby merchant port of Talien-wan were likewise leased to Russia, for twenty-five years, with all mining and railway rights for sixty miles around.
Joining the fray, the British prime minister claimed that "the balance of power in the Gulf of Pechili has now been upset." England demanded that Weihaiwei, which was on the same spur as Kiaochow, controlled by the Germans, "be handed over to the British as soon as the Japanese indemnity had been paid and the town had been evacuated." The British also granted themselves an increase in the area of Kowloon, on the mainland opposite Hong Kong.
Not wanting to be left behind, France demanded a similar ninety-nine-year lease on the port of Kwangchowan, south of Hong Kong.
When the court pleaded for the Emperor to take control of the situation, Guang-hsu handed each minister a copy of what he had received from Li Hung-chang. It was an announcement made by the united Western powers regarding the "spheres of influence" in China. Germany and Russia had agreed that the entire Yangtze basin from Szechuan to the delta at Kiangsu was British. Britain agreed that southern Canton and southern Yunnan were French. A belt from Kausu through Shensi, Shansi, Hunan and Shantung was German. Manchuria and Chihli were Russian. The freedom-loving United States secured equal rights and opportunities for all nations in the leased areas and termed their attitude "the Open-Door Policy."