by Anchee Min
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 wa
lk 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.
