Empress Orchid - Anchee Min [125]
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