“Take me to him.” He had to do something about all this bowing and scraping. After all, he wasn’t the emperor. He wasn’t even a prince. He handed Anna to Guan-jiah. The soldier guided him through the carnage of the battlefield where soldiers were busy cutting off rebel heads.
One wounded Taiping struggled to stand. A bannerman walk up behind him, grabbed his hair, jerked his head back and slashed the cutting edge of his sword across the man’s throat severing the head. A fountain of blood gushed from the neck stump as the bannerman pushed the body away from him. It hit the dirt with a dull thud. The bannerman tossed the head, and it bounced when it hit the ground.
In the middle of the battlefield a knot of bannermen surrounded the Englishman, who was on his knees. The man’s arms were tied behind him and a bannerman was holding his hair forcing him to look at Robert as he approached.
The man’s white face was smeared with a mixture of dust and blood. He had a fresh cut on his cheek that was bleeding. “You look familiar,” Robert said in Mandarin. “Do I know you?”
The man struggled and when he couldn’t break free, he spat at Robert but even that fell short. “You bastard,” he said. “You ruined my life.”
“How so?” Robert asked. “I honestly don’t know you and do not know what you are talking about.”
“Captain Patridge dismissed me back in fifty-five after you told him you wouldn’t work with me. I had to become an opium smuggler and a common thief to survive.”
Robert knew where he’d seen this man before, but he couldn’t remember his name. “We were in the same boat during that fight against the Taipings when Patridge recovered the opium. You were angry with me after that meeting in the captain’s cabin—before the fight. Patridge said you were the illegitimate son of an earl. I don’t recall your name.”
“You should,” he said.
“Why?”
“I was behind the death of your concubine. I am the one who told Ward where that cottage near Ningpo was and goaded him so he would go after you. I wanted him to kill you, but he only killed that pregnant bitch.” He struggled to break free. The two bannermen holding him strained to keep him pinned in place.
He should have been angry. Robert should have killed the man then, but he had a feeling this man was responsible for more than Shao-mei’s death. He wanted to know everything. “And you were the one that tried to have me abducted and forced to serve in a Britsh man-of-war headed for the Americas.”
“That was Hollister. He didn’t have the stomach to have you killed. He just wanted to ruin your life as you did to us. Later, I hired a man to go after you, but that fool failed. You killed him. After that, none of my people could get close.”
“I heard Hollister was smuggling opium,” Robert said.
“He was until he lost two of our three ships to whores and gambling. I killed the fool and tossed his corpse into the Pacific and let the fish have him.”
Robert wasn’t surprised.
The man twisted his face into a mask of hate. “Hollister was riddled with syphilis and his brain was rotting. He deserved what he got.”
Then Robert remembered. “You are Unwyn Fiske.”
Fiske cackled. “So, you haven’t forgotten, after all.”
“I haven’t thought about you for years,” Robert said. “Why should I? That battle was one day in my life—a few hours.”
Fiske peeled his lips from his teeth and leered. “I have hated you from the moment you opened your mouth and wanted to save those boat people.”
“How odd,” Robert said. “You didn’t speak Chinese then.”
“There was nothing in Britian for me. After all, I was dismissed from Jardine and Matheson because of you. My father didn’t want me in England reminding him that he had a bastard. China offered opportunities, so I stayed and learned the language. Men were making fortunes. That stopped after they put you in charge of Chinese Maritime Customs. You ruined it.” He struggled to break free again.
“You were the Englishman behind the thefts from the Forbidden City.”
Fiske’s eyes widened. “How did you discover that?”
Robert looked at the Manchu commander. Since Fiske and Robert had been speaking Mandarin, the officer understood every word. Fiske had caused the emperor’s upper banners to lose face, because they couldn’t stop the thefts. One bannerman had lost his legs and arms and been stuffed in a cage to hang from the barrack’s ceiling as a reminder of the banner’s embarrassment.
“Guess who helped the Dynasty catch your partners in crime,” Robert said.
“You?” What little color was left in Fiske’s face drained away.
“Yes. After that failed, like everything else you have done with your life, you went to the Taipings and offered your services to them. Then you talked them into coming after me. When they couldn’t get near me, you persuaded them to take my family.”
“Don’t give yourself credit for everything,” Fiske said. “I was being paid by the Taipings before you arrived in China. I was going to be rich and powerful. I was going to show my father.”
Robert kept his face composed as if that news had not surprised him. If what Fiske said was true, he was the reason for Jardine and Matheson’s lost opium shipments. He was the man Patridge had been looking for. “Now, I understand. You were feeding information to the Taipings about Ward’s movements that led to his early defeats?”
“You ruined that too,” Fiske said. “I could have become wealthy off Ward’s stupidity. I heard rumors that Li Hung-chang was behind Ward’s death. You and General Li have become close. I assumed you helped Li get rid of Ward to avenge the death of your bitch.”
“Enough,” Robert said. He glanced at the Manchu commander. “I am done with him. Do whatever you want.”
The officer nodded. Robert walked away.
“Get back here, Hart!” Fiske said.
That was the last time Robert saw him. Fiske was taken to the Forbidden City and died slowly from chi-lin, the death of ten thousand cuts. Robert later heard that the pain drove Fiske mad before he died. The first thing the royal torturer did was peel the skin from his face as if it were an orange.
While they were steaming north along China’s coast toward Tienstsin and home, Robert and Ayaou went on deck. They stood by the rail. The children were in the cabin sleeping while Guan-jiah watched over them.
Robert had an arm draped across Ayaou’s shoulders. He could smell the salt water and sun in her hair. A look of tranquiltiy was on her face.
“While I was in that temple waiting to die,” she said, “I reached a place of peace I have never known. I was not afraid. I knew that my beheading was going to take place soon. That you might not be able to save me.
“I had come to my own wisdom,” she said. “I understood what nature had long hinted at us to understand through the moon and the river. The river flows day and night and like the moon it never disappears. It does not stay full at all times. But it is always there.”
Chapter 56
It was a cold day in February when Robert returned to Peking with his family. On the way back, he stopped in Shanghai then Tientsin where he left the men who had fought beside him, which was a luxury he did not have, and he envied them for it.
It never occurred to him that with power came sacrifice, such as living away from home for weeks and months at a time while his children grew without him. He’d been in China almost ten years. When he first arrived, his dreams had never reached this high, and he questioned if achieving more than he had wanted was a curse.
Unlike the men who worked for him, he had to be satisfied with a few days at home before he was off again dealing with challenges brought on by the turmoil in China. He was still rebuilding the mess he had inherited from Horatio Lay, and he prayed he could turn it in to an efficient organization that one day would run itself like a well-oiled machine giving him more time at home. What a luxury it would be to sit down daily for supper with Ayaou and the children as his father had. They could ta
lk, and he could ask Anna and Herbert what they had done that day.
Soon, he’d be gone on another inspection tour. He couldn’t ignore the fact that he had three children, and the most challenging child was the Chinese Maritime Customs service, which he ruled as if he were a king.
Robert both celebrated and regretted making love to Ayaou that night. When he left in the morning, he would be gone for weeks and hating every moment away from his family. He could have had other women, but there was only one he wanted. It was important for him that he be loyal to her.
While they were making love, he heard a creaking sound outside the door and wondered if Guan-jiah was in the hall. The door was locked and there was no crack or hole to spy through. If his loyal servant was out there, all the eunuch could do was listen.
Long after Ayaou had fallen asleep, he stayed awake staring into the darkness comparing his feelings for Ayaou in 1855 to the way he felt now. He had changed. Although he still found her attractive and desirable, he didn’t lust after her as he once did.
What he enjoyed more was the companionship and the things they shared. They spent their evenings talking about art, poems and books. Once a week on Sunday afternoon, they walked in one of the city’s imperial gardens. They went to operas where he spent more time watching her responses than watching the drama unfold on stage. When he wasn’t with her, he missed these moments.
The pain in his guts started to burn again. Not wanting to wake her, he suppressed a groan and pressed against the spot where it hurt.
The next morning before he left, he said, “Guan-jiah, I’m counting on you to write and tell me everything that is happening to Ayaou and the children.” Robert handed his house manager a schedule of dates and locations. “When you said you wanted to be the adopted uncle for my children, we didn’t realize just what that would mean. You have to take my place when I am not here. Make sure Anna practices the violin and the piano daily. Do not neglect their language lessons. I want them to speak English, French, Mandarin and Cantonese perfectly.”
“I will write often,” the eunuch replied. “If Anna loses a tooth, you will read about it.”
“Thank you.” He put a hand on the eunuch’s shoulder. “I’m glad you’re here, Guan-jiah. With you watching the children, I’m sure they will become fine, upstanding individuals even if their father is absent.”
Guan-jiah blushed and stared at the floor. The paper with the list of locations and dates slipped from his fingers and fluttered away like a butterfly. He scrambled after it. “Sorry, Master.”
He did not like it when Guan-jiah called him master. He had tried to stop that, but this time he didn’t say a word.
In October, Robert ate lunch at his Shanghai house with Major General Brown, the commanding general of the British troops in Hong Kong.
“Have you heard about Charles Gordon?” the general asked.
Robert sipped Spanish sherry. “Yes,” he said, putting the glass down. “One of my people mentioned that he fought in the second opium war. He also took command of The Ever Victorious Army soon after Ward died at the battle of Tzeki. I’ve heard he has been defeating the Taipings.”
“You do keep up with events, don’t you?” General Brown said. “You are as sharp as they say. Gordon is doing an excellent job.”
“I don’t know much about Gordon beyond what I’ve heard,” Robert said. “I know that he took part in the destruction of the Summer Palace outside Peking. What else was he involved in?”
“He fought under Staveley around Shanghai when they drove the Taipings from the city.”
“If Gordon took part in the destruction of the Summer Palace, I wonder how he gained the command of The Ever Victorious Army.”
General Brown snorted and then laughed. “That is a complicated and ironic story. The Chinese were not happy with Ward’s first replacement and the governor of Jiangsu province asked Staveley to appoint a British officer to take command. I don’t think the Ch’ing Dynasty knows Gordon blew up most of their precious Summer Palace.”
“The Dynasty must have been impressed with how Staveley handled the Taipings outside Shanghai to ask for his advice.” Robert picked up a knife and cut into the roast chicken on his plate. He took another sip of sherry.
The general nodded. “Gordon held the rank of major when he took command of that army. He immediately marched his troops forty miles northwest of Shanghai to drive the Taipings from the town of Chansu. He did such an admirable job that he won the respect of his men. Under Ward, they weren’t much better than an unruly mob. Gordon trained them and created a disciplined, military force.”
Robert signaled a servant to refill the General’s wineglass and bring out the plum pudding. When the servant refilled the glasses, the general took another sip. “Excellent sherry,” he said.
“I’m glad you approve. I have several cases. Take one when you return to Hong Kong.”
“Thank you kindly.”
“How has Gordon done since Chansu?” Robert asked.
The General finished chewing a mouthful of chicken. He speared a piece of boiled potato dripping with butter. After he chewed and swallowed, he wiped his mouth. “After Chansu, he captured Kunshan, but it cost his army heavy casualties. He’s there now bringing his forces back to strength before joining Li Hung-chang’s army to take the city of Soochow from the Taipings.”
“Li Hung-chang and I worked together once,” Robert said. “I rely on him to verify information I’m gathering from my custom’s offices about what’s going on in China. He has an excellent spy network.”
“Why don’t you join me tomorrow? Gordon sent one of his gunboats, the Firefly, to bring me to see what he is up to.”
“I’d love to see what Gordon has done with this army,” Robert said. “I fought under Ward soon after I arrived in China. He made me an officer in command of men.”
“You fought in Ward’s army?” the General said, surprised. “I didn’t know that. How did that go?”
“I only fought in one battle. Ward blundered and it almost cost my life.”
“I’m not surprised. Ward made mistakes on the battlefield. He was a man without fear, but he lacked common sense. On the other hand, you will be impressed with Gordon. He has built a fortress at Kunshan. When we sail tomorrow, I want to hear more about your adventures with Ward during the trip.”
“I would not call it an adventure. More like a tragedy.”
That night rebels boarded the Firefly as she lay at her moorings, and the gunboat was burned and sunk. The boat’s engineers vanished. The trip to meet Gordon did not take place, and General Brown returned to Hong Kong. Robert’s friend, Li Hung-chang and Charles Gordon joined forces in December 1863 to take the city of Soochow.
Another crisis was about to threaten the Ch’ing Dynasty.
Prince Kung called Robert to his palace early in March 1864. The messenger didn’t tell Robert the reason except that it was serious.
He knew what such meetings usually meant. Our Hart was the man to call when a crisis appeared others could not solve. He assumed that this was another such challenge.
The meeting took place in Kung’s garden. It was a fairy tale scene with trees full of birds and ponds stocked with brightly colored carp flashing about under the surface of the reflecting water. It was hard to remember that outside the tall walls surrounding this lush palace there was so much danger and suffering.
“An incident has taken place between Charles Gordon and Li Hung-chang,” Kung said. “It could put the Dynasty in a position of risk that may lead to defeat by the Longhaired Bandits.”
“What kind of incident?” Robert asked.
“The generals had a disagreement, and Gordon does not trust Li. Gordon took his army and returned to his fortress in the Kunshan heights. The Dynasty wants you to solve this. Li and Gordon must join their armies and continue to defeat the Taipings.
“We estimate the Taiping armies in central China number two million troops. However, they are in disarray. The D
ynasty cannot risk letting these armies regroup. We feel that you are the only man capable of bringing Gordon and Li Hung-chang back together before it is too late.”
Li Hung-chang wasn’t exactly Robert’s friend. When Li was in Peking, they often ate a simple breakfast together of rice porridge with yams. They had come to rely on each other and shared information. It was more of a business relationship.
Li was the head of the imperial army called Huai from the Northern Yangtze River provinces. The Huai was known in China for its toughness. Gordon and Li working together had proved invincible.
The Taipings were retreating, as they had never done. The rebellion had killed millions on both sides. Robert thought it ironic that the leader of the Taipings, Hong Xiuquan, had named his realm the Kingdom of Heavenly Peace. “What are the details that caused this distrust?” he asked.
“The fracture between Li and Gordon took place during the battle for the city of Soochow,” the prince said. “Weeks went by and they couldn’t break through the thick walls. Deciding that another strategy might work better, they agreed to use a secret agent inside the city and sent a message to King Nah, one of the two Taiping leaders. They asked him to organize a coup for money, control of half the city of Soochow and an imperial title.
“The deal was made and ten days later King Nah murdered his partner King Mu. Nah opened the gates and surrendered Soochow to Li and Gordon’s combined armies.”
“A brilliant move,” Robert said. “I don’t understand how that caused a problem between Gordon and Li.”
“I will explain,” Kung replied. “Gordon was responsible for making this deal with King Nah. Before the coup, Gordon had secretly met King Nah and had given him his word that Nah would be safe. However, on the second day of the Soochow occupation, Li ordered King Nah and eight Taiping generals beheaded.”
“And Gordon was furious,” Robert said, “and believes his personal reputation was damaged. He thinks Li deliberately broke the agreement with King Nah. I am sure Gordon also believes that his word is worthless now, and this will affect his ability to defeat the Taipings.”
My Splendid Concubine Page 65
