The Last Empress - Anchee Min [136]
After many more summonses demanding his presence, Li Hung-chang arrived in Tientsin on September 19. "Until the publication of the edict, there is little I can do," his message to Yung Lu read.
Strangely, at this point the prospect of my own death didn't sound so threatening to me. The idea presented itself more as a negotiation point.
"Do you think Li Hung-chang really expects me to turn myself over to the Allies?" I asked Yung Lu.
"Of course not. What would Li be without you?"
"What does he want, then?"
"He is using this moment to make sure that you don't give in to his enemies, especially to Prince Ts'eng Junior and General Tung."
Strong northern winds blew through the grasslands, making our palanquins look like little boats floating on green waves. The Boxers had ruined the planting season, and we couldn't get any help because the farmers had fled.
We kept pushing north and inland, pursued by the foreigners. We had been trudging on rutted dirt roads for over a month. My mirror broke and I could only guess how I looked. Guang-hsu was covered with dust and he no longer bothered to wash his face. His skin was sallow and dry. Our hair smelled rank and our scalps itched. My clothes were infested with lice and other bugs. One morning I opened my vest and saw hundreds of sesame-seed-sized eggs in the lining. The tiny eggs seemed glued to the vest, so Li Lien-ying burned it. I no longer cared how my hair looked. I soaked my head in salt water and vinegar, but the lice returned. When I got up in the morning I would see them fall onto my straw mat. We had been sleeping where we could, one night in an abandoned temple, another in a roofless hut on brick beds.
Guang-hsu was disgusted when he saw Li Lien-ying combing the flaky lice eggs out of my hair. The Emperor shaved his head and wore a wig during our makeshift audiences. It was hard for us to keep our composure when receiving ministers—the urge to scratch was overwhelming. I had to smile. I saw the absurdity in all this; Guang-hsu did not.
The rainy season brought its storms. Our palanquins leaked and Guang-hsu and I soon became soaking wet. The journey recalled my first exile, to Jehol with Emperor Hsien Feng. I did not want to think of the future.
On September 25, the throne's first edict of punishment would be published. I already suffered from remorse. Prince Ts'eng and General Tung had both come to let me know that they understood the reasons for what I must do. I was to turn them over to the Allies, a condition for releasing me from responsibility.
"I cannot order their beheadings," I said to Yung Lu. "Prince Ts'eng is a blood relation, and General Tung's troops are all that is protecting my court-on-legs." I sighed. "What happened to Queen Min will sooner or later happen to me."
"Li Hung-chang is getting what he wanted and will find a way to save you," Yung Lu said.
One morning, my eunuch found a duck egg in the cupboard of an abandoned house. Guang-hsu and I were thrilled. Li Lien-ying boiled the egg, and Guang-hsu and I cracked the shell carefully and ate the egg bit by bit, scraping the shell clean.
We had been short of food and had been surviving on small portions of millet porridge. It made us hungrier. With the egg we celebrated Li Hung-chang's long-awaited arrival in Peking; he had been in Tientsin for three weeks. I made sure he knew about all the vermin I had encountered.
Finally the negotiations opened. Our friend Robert Hart served as a go-between. Li Hung-chang made significant progress by convincing the foreign powers that "there is more than one way to slice a melon," and that deposing me and my government would not only prevent the foreigners from extracting the most benefits from China, but would also foment unrest, leading to more uprisings.
The foreign powers wanted to partition China, but Li made them recognize that China was simply too vast, its population too