The Last Empress - Anchee Min [113]
"How do you explain their actions?" I asked.
"I don't know how my reform project turned into assassination plans. Kang proposes one thing and carries out another. I am guilty and deserve to die because I trusted him."
Guang-hsu was more desperate than angry. I wished that he would defend himself and declare his innocence. Although I would never find out the truth, I needed to believe that he was set up. Deep in my heart I knew my child had been taken advantage of.
The bright light in Guang-hsu's eyes disappeared. The Emperor spent days on his knees beseeching me to grant him death. "So the country can move on," he said and wept. "So you can move on. Kang Yu-wei didn't invite himself to the Forbidden City, I did."
He was broken, his eyes sunken and his back hunched. "I am sick of myself and sick of living. Have mercy and pity, Mother."
Before I got a chance to let out my own rage, I was forced to confront Guang-hsu's distress. He refused food and water. Blood was found in his spittoon.
"His Majesty wants to punish himself so badly," Doctor Sun Pao-tien said. "He is willing himself to die. I have seen it in patients before. Once the decision is made, there is no stopping them."
The order to arrest Kang Yu-wei and his associates, signed by Emperor Guang-hsu, stirred the nation. The Ironhats and the court's conservatives took their seats in the Hall of Punishment, where the trial was to begin. They were ready to flex their muscles and teach a brutal lesson.
"The moderates will be hurt once the trial opens," Yung Lu said. "Their names, once exposed, will be linked to the reformers. The Iron-hats are out for blood."
Both Yung Lu and I feared armed confrontation. We received intelligence about plans for a riot, instigated by the Ironhats. It would be led by General Tung's Moslem troops. Tung took his orders from Prince Ts'eng—no friend of the throne.
"Where are General Tung's troops now?" I asked.
"They are camped on the southern outskirts of Peking. If a confrontation occurs, the troops will gallop through the streets of Peking. I am concerned about the British and American legations."
"I can imagine General Tung inviting himself into the Forbidden City. Prince Ts'eng can't wait for the chance to intimidate me. He will force me to dethrone Guang-hsu."
"That is the picture I see too," Yung Lu said.
"A painful tourniquet must be applied to avoid a fatal hemorrhage," I said to Yung Lu. "Present me a list of the must-be-executed and I'll see that the Emperor signs it. I hope it will help stop the popular displeasure that fuels the riot."
***
Future historians would unanimously damn me as a "villain of immense power, dedicated to evil" when referring to Emperor Guang-hsu's attempted reform, which would be called the Hundred Days, counting from the date of his first edict to the last.
On September 28, 1898, only one day into the trial, the proceedings were halted when news came of Kang Yu-wei's escape—he had been rescued by British and Japanese military agents operating behind the scenes. Fearing that there would be more "international rescues," Guang-hsu issued an edict ordering the beheading of six of the prisoners, including Kang Yu-wei's brother Kuang-jen. They became known as the Six Martyrs of the Hundred Days.
All I could say in defense of my son was that the sacrifice was made to avoid a much greater tragedy. The beheadings served as a clear statement of where Emperor Guang-hsu stood, and proved that he was no longer a threat to me. As a result, Prince Ts'eng's notoriously independent General Tung withdrew his Moslem forces eighty miles east of Peking, which meant that the possibility of disturbances, or even killings, at the British and American legations was removed.
The execution of the six spared the moderates, which prevented polarizing confrontations that