To his surprise, Prince Kung reacted out of character and laughed in the conservative’s face. Later, Robert realized that by laughing in the man’s face, Kung had gained face in the eyes of the others in the room, as if he had taken some from the other man and added it to himself.
“Are you talking about ‘Our Hart’,” Prince Kung replied. That was the day Robert became known as ‘our Hart’, and he was flattered.
Kung indicated Robert. “This foreign devil is sitting at a desk behind you. He understands every word you say. He speaks better Mandarin than you do. He even knows where Kansu is.”
Robert tried to melt into the desktop and become invisible. He felt his face burning. He hated being the center of attention, but no one was looking at him. It was as if each man in the room had become isolated. In fact, no one was looking at anyone except Prince Kung, who was staring at the conservative.
The conservative, clearly feeling insulted, cleared his throat in disgust and started to leave the room. Prince Kung waved a hand in dismissal.
“I do not care if you think of him as a foreign devil or even a long haired bandit,” Kung said. Robert was sure the conservative was still listening. “That is because I am a rebel in the imperial parliament. I am used to people shooting arrows at me. Besides, this foreign devil is worth a dozen ministers. At least he is trying to help us with our problems instead of demanding that we continue to fight losing wars.” The conservative minister was gone by the time Kung finished.
“Have your servant taste your food before you eat anything, Robert,” Kung said.
He was alarmed. Kung had stepped out of bounds by insulting the man. The prince must dislike him, Robert thought, to risk being poisoned. “What about my servant?” he asked. “He might die.”
Kung shrugged. “They know it is their job.”
Everyone else kept working as if nothing had happened.
A few days later, he arrived early at the Yamen and found Prince Kung already there going over Robert’s proposals for the treaty with Germany.
Without warning, Kung reached out and lifted the front corner of Robert’s suit jacket. “How is this made?” he asked. “I am interested in the pockets. Imagine all the things I could put in these pockets if I had them sewn into my robes?”
“Let me show you,” he said, taking off his jacket and handing it to Kung.
The prince examined the stitching around the inside of the pocket that held it in place. “I have never worn clothing like yours. It must feel different,” he said.
When several others entered the room, Kung handed the jacket back. Robert was sure that if they hadn’t arrived, Prince Kung would have asked him to undress, so he could try the suit on.
That night he wrote a letter to Ayaou and told her everything. He ended the letter with, “It’s very early in the morning, and I haven’t had a chance to sleep. When I wake, my first thoughts are always of you and Anna. I have not heard from you in days. I wonder if you did what I suggested about Anna crying during the night.
“I am eager to know if it worked, and if you are getting more sleep. One of us has to get adequate rest. I think about sleep a lot lately, since I am not doing much of it. If I am fortunate, I’ll manage to sleep an hour or two before I return to the Yamen.”
In one private conversation, Prince Kung and Robert agreed that there were no Chinese officials in the government that the emperor could trust. It didn’t matter if the official was Manchu or Han since corruption was everywhere.
The conversation moved to talk of hiring foreigners to run China’s customs offices. He assured the prince that he would be careful to select individuals who were ethical and had the same moral values he had. “I will do all that I can to find honest Chinese to work for customs too,” he said.
“That is good,” Kung replied. “With you entering China’s service, we have nothing to worry about.”
Robert was stunned. What if he couldn’t live up to Prince Kung’s expectations?
Chapter 45
On June 12, Robert faced fear with a cold, chilling sense of helplessness and a brush with death that was too close.
It happened because he was feeling lonely for the old days in Ningpo when he went to festivals with Ayaou and Shao-mei, which is why he went for a ride to the market to watch locals performing The Lion Dance.
Without warning, the crowd turned on him. The Chinese called him ‘bloodsucker, bastard of a yellow-hair-ghost and devil that deserved to be sentenced to the lingering death’. They spit at him and threw rocks.
It was madness.
He had made a mistake by going without his pistol and bodyguards. He barely avoided being hit by the rocks and was fortunate to be on a horse. Without the horse, he would have never escaped to the nearby British Consulate.
Inside the consulate, he waited for his racing heart to grow calm. One of the British consular officials brought a small glass of brandy, and Robert gulped it without tasting. He’d eaten a large breakfast, so the alcohol did not hit hard.
It was his fault. He was a fool to let his guard down. It was not safe for anyone not wearing a Chinese face to be out alone. He remembered Shao-mei. She had been killed because he had relaxed his guard, and he still felt responsible for her death. When would he learn?
“Another brandy, please,” he said.
He hadn’t known such fear before. Even the fight with Taipings in fifty-five did not compare. He had not felt helpless then. Afraid yes, but not helpless, because he had been armed and ready. This time he had been surprised. The tsunami of hate from so many Chinese had been overwhelming.
In the letter he wrote to Ayaou that night, he did not mention the rock-throwing incident. He did not want to worry her. After all, she had warned him to be careful.
The next day at breakfast with Prince Kung and Wen-hsiang, Robert talked about his experience in the marketplace and expressed resentment.
“We are sorry for your bad experience,” Wen-hsiang said, “but you have survived. Prince Kung has good news that will make up for what you suffered.”
“I sent your proposals to the emperor in Jehol,” Prince Kung said. “Even in his delicate health, he read them. His majesty instructed us to make prints and share them with the court, and his majesty wants to put your ideas to work.”
Robert’s narrow escape with death was shoved aside by a flush of pride. To think that he, a young man who had once been a low-ranking interpreter for the British consulate, had gained the attention of an emperor. He was tempted to pinch himself to see if he were dreaming.
That evening, he wrote to Ayaou knowing she would be proud. He wished Shao-mei had lived to see this day. It was a pity, because the sisters had played an important part in his understanding the Chinese culture.
Thinking about Shao-mei reminded him that he still had unfinished business with General Ward, the man who murdered her. His resolve for revenge against the Devil Soldier had sprouted deep roots. He would not be careless again.
Soon, he hoped, his position in China would offer an opportunity to exact revenge against the mercenary. Uncle Bark had said to wait until the time was right, and Robert believed that day was close. He took out the black, porcelain, hand-sized spittoon with the hunting tiger painted on its side, opened the lid and spit into it.
In early July, he traveled seventy miles to the coast and Tientsin, where he stayed for two months interviewing and hiring people. He wrote to Ayaou telling her that after he finished in Tientsin, he’d be traveling for the rest of the year setting up new offices in China’s major ports.
Since he wanted to build a network of people he could depend on as if they were an extended family, he did not trust anyone else to do the job. Loyalty, courage, honesty and trust were his watchwords. All he would have to do was find a few hundred more like Guan-jiah and Gerard. A daunting task, he was sure, but one he was determined to make work.
Borrowing a page from Horatio Lay, he set his trap at the beginning of each interview. “The Chinese are
like children,” he said to the applicant. “Since they are simpleminded and not Christians, how do you plan to deal with them?”
Only those that countered that they did not feel the Chinese were simpleminded had a chance for a job with Customs.
Those that made it beyond the first test then had to explain how the Chinese culture differed from foreign nations and go into detail about the best approach to take when dealing with the Chinese. When he interviewed a Chinese applicant, he took a different approach and focused on Confucius’s five great relationships to see how important they were to the man.
He was looking for sensitive diplomats that not only demonstrated an ability to handle the Chinese without insulting them but also knew ways to calm ruffled feathers when a person like Horatio Lay or a Harry Parkes upset Chinese officials.
His plans changed after the Manchu emperor died. In late August 1861, he returned to Peking where he first heard the news. The emperor had been thirty and his death was a shock reminding Robert how unpredictable life was. After all, the emperor had only been four years older than Robert, and the narrow escape in June from the rock-throwing mob was still on his mind.
What if one of those rocks had hit him in the head and knocked him off the horse?
With the emperor’s death, the Chinese people were more resentful of foreign interference, and it wasn’t wise to be out on the streets even with other Westerners. Several bannermen escorted him everywhere he went.
Not sure what the next day might bring, he decided to move his family closer. He wrote to Ayaou instructing her and Guan-jiah to relocate to Shanghai, where he planned to join them in the fall. His instructions were detailed about the house he wanted.
“The house must be one to match my status,” he wrote. “It must be equal to or surpass the house in Canton. Since we have a growing family, there will be more servants. I want room for the children to exercise their curiosity. Guan-jiah will know what that means. He must use his skills to make sure the gardens are big places in small spaces.”
Prince Kung and Robert met soon after the emperor’s death. Their meeting took place in one of the garden pavilions behind Kung’s palace. Unsweetened, strong green tea was served.
“Since my brother died, a power struggle has blossomed with Prime Minister Su Shun,” Prince Kung said.
“Are you alone in this fight?” Robert asked. What he knew about the prime minister concerned him. If Kung failed, Robert’s goals to help modernize China would die. Su Shun’s Iron Hats wanted to keep China frozen in time. To make this happen, they were willing to plunge China into a war that could kill millions.
“No, I have formed a coalition.” Kung looked exhausted. Robert had never seen the prince this tired. It was as if he were carrying the weight of China on his back.
“I have no idea how this will turn out,” Kung said. He wilted a bit more, as if the burden were increasing with each perceived threat.
“I’m not worried,” Robert replied, wanting to offer encouragement. “Even though I’ve never met the prime minister, I have heard enough to know that his arrogance and ego will destroy him. On the other hand, you are a pragmatic, quick thinker. You will be ready when he stumbles.”
“I hope you are right. If I lose, your head could join mine on the ground inside the Forbidden City. The Iron Hats resent you. In addition, the foreign legations do not have the military strength in Peking to protect them, not in the short term. They will be slaughtered.”
“Surely, the Iron Hats are not that stupid.”
“But they are. The Iron Hats are determined to drive the foreign powers from China. They have talked about moving the capital back to Xian, where it will be easier to fight battles they can win.”
“That might work,” Robert replied. “After all, Xian is more than six hundred miles from the ocean while Peking is only seventy. The allied supply lines would be long, and their armies could easily be cut off.”
“I know, but how many Chinese will die fighting that war? If the British and French occupy Peking again, they will destroy the Forbidden City as they did the Summer Palace last year. I might fail, so I suggest you leave Peking. You will be safer in Shanghai.”
“I’m not worried. You will not lose, so I will stay. If Su Shun wins, the real danger is to China. For Su Shun, like the rest of the Iron Hats, refuses to see China as weak and backward in the ways of war. He is blind to the fact that Britain and France have modern weapons, while Chinese armies fight like they have for centuries with crossbows, swords and spears.”
Prince Kung snorted. “You have more confidence than I do,” he said.
“When you win, I want to be where I can help. China’s armies need to modernize to equal the armies of Britain and Europe. If I leave, how am I to do that?” He finished his tea and a servant refilled the cup. The tea was bitter, which seemed appropriate.
Prince Kung smiled. “You amaze me, Robert. No one else believes we can beat the Iron Hats. Why do you care so much about China? After all, China is not your land.”
Robert sipped his tea. A breeze rattled the bamboo outside the latticed window. “It is because the Chinese honor poets and artists above generals, merchants and politicians,” he said. “I have not seen that in my country.”
Prince Kung put his teacup down and studied Robert for a long moment. “Interesting,” he said, “and I thought that was our weakness. We need talented generals, not more poets.”
“China has good generals,” Robert replied. “I’ve been to General Yue Fei’s tomb in Hangzhou, and I saw people honoring his memory.”
“General Yue Fei died more than seven hundred years ago. We have no Yue Fei today.”
“I disagree. Su Shun is like those ministers that betrayed Yue Fei with their lies. My confidence is in you. I believe you are cleverer than Su Shun. What about the Empress Dowagers, Tzu Hsi and Tsu An? You didn’t mention them.”
“They are still in Jehol. I have tried to communicate with them, but Su Shun has blocked every attempt.”
“You need the empresses to be part of your coalition. Be bold. Go yourself. Demand to see your brother’s coffin. You have a right to pay respect to your brother. Take advantage of that.”
“Interesting,” Kung said. “Go on.”
“Su Shun will be off balance because of your unexpected appearance. That is when you should enlist the empresses to join your side. From what I have heard, Su Shun has no respect for them. I have no doubts that they will join you in this struggle. By now, they have had a chance to see Su Shun at his worst, and realize that if he comes to power, they are doomed.”
Prince Kung walked to a latticed window to stare at the ponds and trees. Birds chirped. “I have thought the same,” Kung said, “but until you suggested what I should do to get close to them, I didn’t know how to go about it. I will leave for Jehol soon. Thank you, my friend.”
Prince Kung left in September.
Robert wished that he could have done more to help. It bothered him that he was in no position to do so. What worried him more was that although the women were empresses of the highest rank, they were still women, and women in China were nothing but bed warmers to most men. He had even heard Prince Kung belittle the empresses.
Although women had little value in China, Robert understood the power of the Chinese mother in a family and in the home. The two empresses were considered the mothers of Tung Chih, the six-year-old son of the dead emperor, and as such, when their son sat on the Dragon Throne, they could wield great power in the Forbidden City and China.
He hoped that at least one of the empresses would be intelligent enough to see the same thing. The longer he spent in Peking, the more he learned, and one thing he had discovered was that Hzu Hsi, the birth mother of Tung Chih, was a clever woman.
On November 1, a coup d’état was attempted while Emperor Hsien Feng’s coffin was being carried to Peking for burial. An assassin hired by Su Shun tried to murder the Dowager Empress Tzu Hsi.
“With help from
my brothers, several Han mandarins and with General Jung Lu commanding the emperor’s upper three banners, I outwitted Su Shun and arrested him and his men,” Prince Kung said.
This meeting took place in The Garden of Moonlit Fertility, where they sipped more green tea. It was early night and a hint of daylight remained. The trees surrounding the ponds and streams swayed from the wind. Crickets filled the air with sound.
Prince Kung never told Robert all the facts, but he felt a great relief for his friend, who saw things as he did.
“We are fortunate, Hart,” Prince Kung said the next time they met. “Before I had Su Shun arrested, he had already placed an order to close the Tsungli Yamen. He would have stopped all negotiations with the foreign powers and attempted to drive them from China by force.”
“Then we are blessed. If you had lost, and Su Shun waged his war as planned, China would have been divided between England, France, Germany, Japan and Russia, and they would have chewed her to the bone.”
“But we wouldn’t have been here to see it,” Kung replied.
The Empress Dowagers issued an edict on November 8, which decreed that Su Shun would receive the worst punishment possible for his high crimes, a lingering death known as the Death of a Thousand Cuts.
“On his deathbed, my brother named the empresses coregents until the boy emperor comes of age,” Prince Kung said.
This time Robert met Kung in Beihai Park, which was closer to his palace. Beihai, which translated to North Sea, had been built between 916 and 1125.
They were walking beside the lake near the Nine Dragon Screen, a towering stand-alone wall with colorful tiled dragons on both sides.
“I did not discover this until I arrived unannounced in Jehol demanding to see my brother’s body and pay my last respects,” Kung said. “The empresses were clever. They managed to be in the coffin room with me. After we talked, it was obvious Su Shun was planning to get rid of them. They said he had ignored the emperor’s dying request that the empresses be coregents.
“Since my brother’s death, Su Shun was making all the decisions without consulting them. He cut the empresses off from the court and put them under a form of house arrest.”
My Splendid Concubine Page 52
