20.

The powerful strategist and businessman Li Hung-chang told me that not only was China facing an unavoidable war, but we were already deeply into it. For a week the court had discussed nothing but France's ambitions in our southern border provinces, including Vietnam, which China had long ago ruled before the Vietnamese gained a quasi-independence in the tenth century.

Soon after my husband's death in 1862, France colonized southern Vietnam, or Cochin China. Like the British, the French were hungrily drawn to trade in our southwestern provinces and had set their sights on control of the navigable Red River in northern Vietnam. In 1874 France forced the King of Vietnam to accept a treaty giving it the privileges of overlordship that China had traditionally enjoyed. Much to France's irritation, the King continued to send tribute to my son in exchange for protection.

To help hold the Vietnamese territory in the south, I granted freedom to a former Taiping rebel leader and sent him to repel the French. The rebel had been born in the area and considered it his homeland. He fought valiantly and succeeded in keeping the French at bay. But when the King died, the French negotiated another treaty with his successor, which stated, "Vietnam recognizes and accepts the protectorate of France."

In response to our court's ultimatum, the French launched a surprise military attack. Since we hadn't expected to go to war, our southwestern borders were neither strengthened nor prepared. By March of 1884 Li Hung-chang came to report that all of the major cities in Vietnam had fallen into French hands.

My court was divided over the crisis. Publicly, the dispute was over how best to deal with French aggression. Beneath the surface, however, was a widening gap between two political factions: the conservative Manchu Ironhats and the progressives, led by Prince Kung and Li Hung-chang.

I asked Guang-hsu, who had just turned fourteen, how he felt about the situation, and he replied, "As yet I do not know."

I wasn't sure whether or not my son meant to be humble. Months of sitting through court audiences seemed to have worn the boy down. He looked bored and listless. He had told me half jokingly that he would prefer a game of chess over attending an audience. When I told him that he must do what duty dictated, Guang-hsu responded, "I'm trying to glue myself to the dragon chair."

I tried to encourage him. "You are saving the nation, Guang-hsu."

"I haven't achieved anything. I just listen to the same arguments, day in and day out."

It was then that I discovered that Guang-hsu had skipped his audiences during the entire time I was making preparations for Nuharoo's funeral. This upset me more than receiving the news of cities falling in Vietnam.

I didn't know what else I could do to inject a sense of urgency into the young Emperor. One day during lunch I ill.u.s.trated our position on a napkin, drawing a triangle representing the divided court with the Emperor caught in the middle.

I tried not to push too hard. I remembered how Tung Chih ran away while appearing obedient. I remembered his resentment and the irritation that had come into his voice. I told myself to make life Guang-hsu's game instead of mine.

The first thing I did was waive Guang-hsu's duty to officiate at the Confucian rites. Although I agreed with the court that Tung Chih's spirit required the performance of time-honored prayers and rituals for the comfort and security of his departed soul, I believed that Guang-hsu needed a break.

I didn't want Guang-hsu to live in Tung Chih's shadow. However, the court regarded his ascent to the throne as nothing but that. Without Nuharoo's supervision I began to bend the rules. A few ministers questioned my actions, but most court members understood it when I said, "Only when Guang-hsu has succeeded will Tung Chih's soul truly be at rest."

"Uncle Prince Ts'eng threatened suicide when I agreed to allow foreigners to live and trade in China," Guang-hsu reported. "He has asked my father to join him in funding the Boxers."

I was all too aware of the Boxers, a peasant movement with deep roots in traditional Chinese culture-or so their leaders claimed. Their numbers were growing rapidly.

"Unfortunately," I informed my son, "the Boxers' mission is to murder foreigners."

"Are you on Prince Kung's side, then?" Guang-hsu asked.

I let out a sigh.

"My father is full of nonsense," Guang-hsu went on. "His poems and calligraphy are exhibited everywhere."

"Prince Ch'un wants China to stay closed. What are your thoughts?"

"I agree with Uncle Kung," Guang-hsu replied. Then, looking me straight in the eye, he said, "I don't understand why you tell me to cease when I try to let the court know my opinion."

"The Emperor's job is to unite the court," I gently pointed out.

"Yes, Mother," Guang-hsu said obediently.

"I heard that you want to inspect the new navy."

Guang-hsu nodded. "Yes, very much. Li Hung-chang is ready, but the court won't give me permission to receive him. My father thinks he is the real Emperor, though I wear the clothes."

"What do you think of Prince I-kuang's handling of the Board of Foreign Affairs?"

"He seems to be more capable than the rest. But I don't really like him, or my other uncles." Guang-hsu paused for a moment and then continued. "To tell you the truth, Mother, I have been establishing contacts with people outside the court circle. Thinkers and reformers, people who know how to really help me."

"Make sure you understand what reform means in practice." I didn't want to admit that I had little idea myself.

"I do, Mother. I have been working up a reform plan."

"What would be your first edict?"

"It would be to remove privileges from those who enjoy government salaries while contributing nothing."

"Are you aware of the size of this group?"

"I know there are hundreds of royal pests who are paid for their princeships and governorships. My father, uncles, brothers and cousins are their patrons."

"Your younger brother, Prince Ch'un Junior, has become the new star of the Ironhats," I warned him. "His gang vowed to destroy anyone who supports Prince Kung and Li Hung-chang."

"I'll be issuing the edicts, not Prince Ch'un Junior."

"Support Prince Kung and Li Hung-chang and maintain good relations with the conservative party," I advised.

"I am prepared to abandon them," Guang-hsu said in a calm voice. His determination pleased me, although I knew I couldn't afford to encourage him further.

"You should not abandon them, Guang-hsu."

The Emperor pivoted his head toward me and stared.

"They are the heart of the Manchu ruling cla.s.s," I explained. "You must not turn blood relatives into enemies."

"Why?"

"They can use the family law to overthrow you."

Guang-hsu seemed unsure. He got off his chair and paced the hall.

"Funding the Boxers is one of the Ironhats' strategies," I said, taking a sip of tea. "They are backed by our friend the Canton governor, Chang Chih-tung."

"I know, I know, they are the influential leaders and are resentful if not hostile toward all foreigners." Guang-hsu went back to his chair and sat down. He let out a heavy sigh.

I rose to add hot water to his teacup.

"Should I trust Li Hung-chang?" Guang-hsu asked. "He seems to be the most successful dealmaker with the foreign powers."

"Trust him," I replied. "However, keep in mind that your brother Ch'un cares about the Manchu Dynasty no less than Li Hung-chang."

The spring air was gritty with sand blown by the strong desert wind. It wasn't until April that the wind softened to a breeze. Under the warm sun the eunuchs let go of their brown winter robes that made them look like bears. The Imperial backyard concubines slipped into their ankle-length chipaos, dresses of Manchu design that cleverly complimented the female figure.

I missed strolling the streets of Peking under the sunshine. It had been over a quarter of a century since I'd had the pleasure. Images of the city came to me only in my dreams. I missed looking into lanes and courtyards where fermiana trees were in bud and loquat trees bloomed in bunches. I missed the baskets of the peony sellers by the busy crossroads. I remembered the scent of their freshly cut flowers and the sweet smell of date trees.

Ball-like willow catkins chased each other inside the Forbidden City. They flew over the inner walls and through the windows and landed on my desk while I outlined what I had read in reports from overseas.

Guang-hsu sat beside me. "Li Hung-chang says he has sent reinforcements to the trouble spot, but from others I hear different," Guang-hsu said, cupping his hands together under his chin.

No one else was in the room. We could hear the echoes of our own voices. I reminded the Emperor of the possibility that people would say anything to discredit Li.

"It is difficult to know who's telling the truth," Guang-hsu agreed.

I wished that there were others whom I could depend on for information. Li Hung-chang was the only one who had established his credibility beyond the shadow of a doubt. I liked him, although never his news. Whenever I heard my eunuch's voice announcing Li's arrival, my insides would stir. I had to make an effort to sit up straight so that I could hold the bad news in my stomach.

On August 22, 1885, the French opened fire without warning, yet they refused to call it a war. The message from Li Hung-chang read, "Our junks and numerous ships were set ablaze and they sank within minutes."

Guang-hsu's hands shook slightly as he turned the pages. "Our supplies are strangled now that the French navy blockades the straits between Taiwan and f.u.kien. Where is Li Hung-chang's Northern Army?"

"You sent him to deal with j.a.pan over the issue of Korea," I reminded him. "Li's army must remain in the north."

With both hands Guang-hsu held his head.

"Have some tea, Guang-hsu" was all I could say.

Pressing his eyes with his fingers, he said, "We can't afford not to deal with j.a.pan."

I agreed. "To j.a.pan, Korea is the point of access to Pechili Bay and then to Peking itself."

Guang-hsu rose and went to read the court's memorandum. "What else can the court advise me? 'Exercise restraint ... Do not arouse conflict with j.a.pan while at war with the French...'"

"The court had hoped that j.a.pan would be grateful after we let them have Taiwan."

"Tutor Weng said that our kindness and sense of self-restraint should not be regarded as an invitation for invasion."

"He's not wrong, but-"

"Mother," Guang-hsu interrupted me, "do you know that the week the Americans signed the treaty with Korea, Tutor Weng became constipated? He tried to punish himself by eating nothing but breadsticks."

I sighed and tried to concentrate. "America's involvement only complicates matters."

Guang-hsu held himself with both of his arms and sat down again.

We stared at each other.

"Mother, is the United States implying that Korea is now an equal among nations and independent of China?" I nodded.

"I don't feel well, Mother. My body wants to desert me."

I wanted to say "Shame and self-punishment don't inspire courage," but instead I turned my head away and began to weep.

As Emperors, both of my sons had no way to escape. Guang-hsu had to continue to live Tung Chih's nightmare. I felt like the ghost who came to s.n.a.t.c.h a subst.i.tute so the dead son's soul could be given a new life. I felt that it was my hands that were pulling and tightening the rope around Guang-hsu's neck.

"Who else is on the way to invade us?" Guang-hsu asked in a panicked tone. "I am sick of being told after the battle is lost and the treaty drafted!"

"It's not your fault that we lost Taiwan, Vietnam and Korea," I managed to say. "Since 1861 China has been like a mulberry tree nipped away at by worms. Your frustration is no different from my husband's."

My words of understanding didn't comfort Guang-hsu. He began to lose his playfulness. In the months to come, the distress would claim him. Unlike Tung Chih, who chose to escape, Guang-hsu did nothing but endure the bad news.

Li Hung-chang negotiated with the French, and Prince Kung invited Robert Hart of our customs service to conduct diplomacy on our behalf. We were lucky, because in the end Hart proved to be a true friend of China.

Before the end of summer, we had unceremoniously ceded Vietnam to France. Li Hung-chang volunteered his disgrace in order for the throne to save face.

A painful moment came when Guang-hsu realized that after protracted war, long suffering, capricious decision-making and the tragic death of thousands, China had obtained only the abolition of the original indemnity to France.

In the meantime, Korea, financed by j.a.pan, began Western-style reforms and proclaimed independence.

"Korea is the thumb of China's hand!" Guang-hsu shouted during an audience.

"Yes, Your Majesty," the court echoed.

"We are weakened, but not shattered!" The Emperor waved his fist.

Everyone's att.i.tude was "Let the boy blow off steam." In the end, Guang-hsu consented to the resolution of the Sino-French War in order to concentrate our defenses in the north, against j.a.pan.

Often, by the time news reached the throne, the moment for action would have already pa.s.sed. It was written clearly in the dynastic laws that authority was to be fully respected and etiquette strictly followed, but I was forced to adapt the laws to changing situations. Greater autonomy had brought efficiency and successful outcomes on a number of occasions. Many times the initiative was Li Hung-chang's, who was doing all he could to hold back the j.a.panese.

With the force Li Hung-chang sent into Korea went a man who would soon be playing an important role on China's political stage. His name was Yuan Shih-kai, a stocky twenty-three-year-old who was ambitious and courageous. When the pro-j.a.panese faction had attempted a coup in December 1884 at a ceremonial banquet in Seoul, Yuan, the chief of staff of the garrison, took the King of Korea hostage after a fierce struggle in the palace's very courtyard and silenced the j.a.panese and their Korean disciples.

Yuan Shih-kai's prompt and confident military action averted the fall of Korea to j.a.pan. For this Guang-hsu rewarded him. Besides a rank-jumping promotion, Yuan was made the Chinese Resident in Seoul.

The treaty Li Hung-chang negotiated with j.a.pan in 1885 stated that both countries would withdraw their troops from Korea. It stipulated that a third power would organize reforms in Korea, and that China and j.a.pan could intervene with military a.s.sistance only after notifying each other. Five years later Korean envoys would come to Peking and kowtow like va.s.sals before Guang-hsu. It brought my son great relief, although both he and I knew it was only a matter of time before we would lose control again.