12

  Fleeing the Forbidden City, 1860

  The sound of gentle thunder rumbled. We all stood in the central courtyard and watched as white clouds billowed in the distance. We all knew it was cannon fire, but there was nothing we could do.

  The courtyard was the busiest I had ever seen it. No one could bear to be indoors, just waiting for news. All the wives and concubines came out of their palaces to watch the clouds and try to get any information about what was happening. Some of the attending ladies had been summoned home by their families. Many of the servants had fled. The eunuchs were rushing about, trying to pick up the slack and keep everything running as it should, but we all knew that nothing was as it should be. It was not a question of if we would flee, but when. But we could do nothing until we received official orders. We were supposed to simply act as if nothing was wrong, as if nothing was about to change. I could tell that Imperial Concubine Yi was frustrated. She no longer laughed or enjoyed the daily distractions of a life of leisure. She was a smart woman who knew there had to be a way to avoid the coming disaster, but she was not informed about what was happening nor was she consulted about what to do. She, like all the women of the Forbidden City, suffered in silence.

  Finally, Prince Chun, a younger half-brother of the emperor and husband of Imperial Concubine Yi’s sister, arrived at our gate. He told us to pack Concubine Yi’s necessary household goods and be ready to leave within hours. This was a monumental task. To an imperial consort, nearly everything she owned was considered necessary. She also owned priceless silks, jewels, and art, all of which would be ripe for looting if they were left behind.

  One trunk was only large enough to fit two or three of Imperial Concubine Yi’s gowns, and she had hundreds of gowns. She did limit herself to only taking a few dozen, but that still resulted in a great many trunks. She also had hundreds of boxes of jewels, perfumes, lotions, undergarments, trinkets, gifts, and her furniture. It would take a hundred wagons just to move her things from the Forbidden City to the Summer Palace, Yuan Ming Yuan.

  It seemed crazy, that we were running for our lives yet worried so much about clothes and jewels. But that is what life at the Forbidden City was like. Life was opulent and exuded luxury. Everything the imperial family did had to reflect that same opulence. It was expected. It also helped to calm the people, or so they believed. If everything carried on as normal as possible, then nothing could really be wrong. The way the court fled to the Summer Palace was the same way they would have traveled there when we were on holiday, everyone just had much less time to pack.

  The emperor had nearly two dozen wives, concubines, and consorts by this time, not to mention the hundreds of retired consorts of the previous emperors who still lived in the palace, the princesses, and the imperial court ladies. Then, of course, was the emperor himself, whose trunks numbered more than I could count.

  All that I owned still fit into the little trunk I had brought to the Forbidden City four years before.

  By the time the emperor, Empress Zhen, Imperial Consort Yi, and Prince Zaichun reached Yuan Ming Yuan fifty-four li away at the head of the caravan, the last of the wagons were still inside the Forbidden City!

  Since my arrival in Peking, the imperial family had not journeyed to the Summer Palace because of all the troubles the emperor was facing, so this was my first visit to what had to be the most magnificent palace in the world.

  The Summer Palace, like the Forbidden City, was actually hundreds of buildings and palaces within one large walled compound. The Summer Palace was five times as large as the Forbidden City. There was so much space, and it was all so green. There were buildings, halls, pavilions, temples, galleries, gardens, lakes and ponds, and bridges. Everything was of the highest quality. Every room was full of the most beautiful furniture, art, wall hangings, clocks, and other items from all over China and the world, dating back hundreds and even thousands of years. There were libraries that held thousands of books and scrolls containing the knowledge and wisdom of every culture and era. If only I could have read even one of them! If we had been there for a leisurely holiday, it would have been such a treat to explore every inch of this magnificent place. There were even buildings built in the European style, designed by an Italian architect, filled with white and gold French furniture. I felt like I had been transported to another world while I was there. But there was nothing leisurely about our flight.

  Not long after we arrived in at Yuan Ming Yuan, the British and French forces overwhelmed Peking and captured the Forbidden City. They found Harry Parkes and his men and were horrified at what happened to them. Of the thirty-eight men who had arrived under a flag of truce with Parkes, twenty-one had died in the most horrible manner. The British were furious and, just as Prince Gong had warned, they vowed revenge.

  Prince Gong had stayed in the Forbidden City to try and work with the British generals. They actually preferred Prince Gong to the emperor because Prince Gong was known to be reasonable and practical in his dealings with foreign powers. The British saw these as positive traits, but the emperor began to loathe his brother for them. Every day, Prince Gong rode his horse back and forth from the Forbidden City to the Summer Palace to try and work out a solution, any solution, but the emperor would not yield. He was incensed.

  His inner circle of advisors told him wild tales of China’s size and strength, of how the foreigners would never be able to overthrow the Son of Heaven. The emperor believed them, but he had no army or navy to call on. This should have made him realize that his advisors, led by his top general Sushun, were lying to him, but instead, he prayed. He, Empress Zhen, Imperial Consort Yi, the little prince, and the other consorts would visit temples and kneel to silent gods. They prayed for help. They prayed for a storm. They prayed for an earthquake. They prayed for a pestilence. They prayed for any miracle that would destroy the foreign forces. But no help came. Only Prince Gong with his pleas to the emperor to honor the past treaties with the British and come to a new understanding came. But the emperor would not budge.

  We had only been in the Summer Palace for a couple of weeks when we had to flee again. It was late at night and I was about to retire to my room when Prince Gong stopped me. He grabbed my arm and dragged me to a secluded corner.

  “You have to go,” he whispered.

  “What?” I asked.

  “I have left a horse tied up outside your room. Take only what you can carry and go.”

  “Why?” I asked. “What is happening?”

  “The British are coming. The emperor and his family are leaving for Jehol right now.”

  “What do you mean? I just saw Imperial Concubine Yi. Her attendants were putting her to bed.”

  “I guarantee she will be gone if you wait until morning,” he said.

  “They are fleeing? In the middle of the night? They are abandoning us?”

  “Even many of court officials don’t know,” he said. “The emperor must move quickly. You know a caravan will slow them down. Tomorrow, when everyone realizes what is happening, they will want to flee as well, but it will be too late. The British forces will be here by then.”

  “What will they do?” I asked.

  “I don’t know,” he said. “But they are still furious about Parkes and his men. They keep saying they want the emperor to fulfill his treaty agreements, that they want peace, but it isn’t true. They want the emperor to fight them. They want their revenge. They only want a reason to overthrow him.”

  “What will you do?” I asked. “Are you coming with us?”

  “No,” he said. “I must stay here and do what I can to make peace and get them to leave.”

  I nodded. “Thank you for telling me. For helping me.”

  He reached up and stroked my face “Yaqian,” he said. “Maybe…when this is over…”

  I stopped him. “It is best not to think about the future right now.”

  He nodded and walked away into the darkness without another word.

  I made my way to my room and, sure as he said, a horse was waiting for me. I gathered my things, mounted the horse, and went back to Imperial Consort Yi’s palace. It was dark and everyone was gone. I went out the nearest exit, a side gate, which was suspiciously unguarded, and followed the trail. It didn’t take long for me to catch up with the imperial family. They were still moving terribly slowly, but at a steady pace. Imperial Concubine Yi was surprised to see me, but she gave me a knowing nod, glad to have me by her side.

  * * *

  The next morning, we were only a few dozen li from the Summer Palace. We could still see it from the surrounding hills. We could also see streams of people fleeing the palace in the morning light as they realized that not only had the emperor fled, but that the British were coming.

  We continued our slow pace until someone in the group yelled, “Fire!” We all turned around and saw smoke rising from the Summer Palace. Imperial Concubine Yi started screaming. The Summer Palace had been her favorite place to be in all of China. She loved the buildings, the gardens, but mostly the art. When she had first visited the Summer Palace as the emperor’s favored woman, she explored every corner of the palace and collected the best paintings from all over Europe and Asia and used them to decorate her private quarters. We could see the fire spreading as thick black smoke filled the sky.

  The emperor collapsed on the ground. He ripped his clothes and wept uncontrollably. To him, the Summer Palace represented everything the emperors of old had worked for. The Summer Palace had been transformed into a dwelling fit for an emperor under Qianlong the Magnificent, who had reigned over China for fifty years and was someone all emperors wished to emulate. Every emperor since Qianlong put their own mark on the Summer Palace, expanding it and filling it with the most exquisite items from around the world.

  As the fire raged below, Emperor Xianfeng knew he was a failure – to himself, to his people, and to his ancestors. The loss of the Summer Palace was a loss too great to bear. The emperor continued to wail and beat his head on the ground. His attendants were finally able to pick him up and place him in a litter so they could carry him. We all felt the loss, not only of the palace itself, but what it represented. Slowly, one by one, we turned away from the blaze and continued our journey, all to the tune of the emperor’s cries.

  * * *

  The progress from the Summer Palace to Jehol was slow and painful. Jehol lay over four hundred li northwest of the Summer Palace. While it took only a few hours to travel from the Forbidden City to the Summer Palace, it took over a week to arrive at Jehol. We had to constantly stop to take breaks, and we had to camp every night, which was an unprecedented ordeal. There were not enough tents, so most of us had to sleep outside on the ground. There was not enough food, so we were starving. It was October, so the temperature was dropping rapidly. By the time we arrived at Jehol, we were stiff, sore, exhausted, and hungry. But we did not find much relief.

  The Mountain Palace at Jehol was not really a palace, but merely a hunting lodge that was occasionally used by past emperors. Emperor Xianfeng was not much of a hunter and had had no time for such frivolities in recent years, so the lodge had fallen into disuse. Some of the eunuchs had ridden ahead to try and prepare the lodge for the Emperor’s arrival, but there had been too much to do in too little time. Most of the rooms had not yet been opened so they were dusty and moldy.

  Eventually, though, everyone was settled in their rooms and the cooks fired up the kitchens to prepare a sumptuous feast. Most of the rest of the court stumbled in over the next few days. Apparently, there had been few deaths at the Summer Palace. The British allowed everyone to leave who wanted to before stealing whatever they could and then burning the palace to the ground. The fact that many of the items were stolen calmed Concubine Yi’s heart.

  “Imagine,” she said. “Somewhere in the world, maybe on their way to England, or France, or America, your beautiful embroidered gowns and fans are on their way to a new life. They are not ashes, but will maybe find their way to the court of the British queen.”

  Imperial Concubine Yi found it endlessly fascinating that the British Empire was ruled by a woman. It was one of her deepest wishes that they would one day meet.

  * * *

  Finally, after the burning of the Summer Palace, the emperor realized that he had to compromise. China was beaten. If he continued to defy the foreigners, they would eventually overrun the entire country. If the emperor agreed to a new treaty, he could at least keep the dynasty on the throne. But he would not do it himself. He appointed Prince Gong as Imperial Envoy with full imperial authority. The prince immediately set to work writing and rewriting treaties and making arrangements for the foreign forces to leave. The prince sent letters to his brother daily, keeping him informed and begging him to return to Peking. But the emperor refused. The emperor would not share the same city as the foreigners.

  The emperor forced the court to remain in Jehol for the winter. Imperial Concubine Yi was inconsolable. She, like all of us, longed to return home, but she also feared for the emperor’s health. After he collapsed on the trail in view of the burning Summer Palace, his health deteriorated and she feared he would not recover. In fact, his physicians warned him that the cold and the drafty palace would not be good for his health, but he would not listen. The snows moved in and we were trapped. We spent the winter in Jehol. Life did get more comfortable. The court officially moved to the Mountain Palace, bringing the luxuries of home with it, but it was not the same. We spent most of the winter indoors huddled by our fires and praying for the emperor’s health to return.

  By the time spring arrived, the snow had melted and the foreigners had either left or were confined to their limited concessions. But the emperor was too sick to be moved. We had no choice except to sit and wait for him to die. Imperial Concubine Yi requested that I sew the emperor’s funerary robe. I told her that I feared I would not have time to sew all of the robe myself and asked if some of the girls from Lady Tang’s school could come from Suzhou to help me. Concubine Yi agreed. By traveling up to Peking by the Grand Canal and then traveling by horse to Jehol, three of my former classmates, including Wensong, arrived within two weeks. I already had all the supplies ready and had drawn the embroidery patterns with input from Concubine Yi by the time the other girls arrived.

  Even though we were supposed to be in a time of sadness, I was thrilled to have my sisters with me. I no longer felt so alone now that I had other women, other Han women, near me. The four of us sat huddled together in a circle in the bright North China sun and worked on the robe that the emperor would wear on his trip to Heaven. After the work was complete, the other girls were sent back to Suzhou except for Wensong. Apparently Empress Zhen had so admired my work she wanted an embroidery girl of her own. Wensong and I were so very glad to be together again.

  13

  Jehol, 1861

  The emperor was only thirty years old when he died. All of Jehol, and the rest of the country, immediately went into mourning, but it was all an act. Honestly, a sense of relief swept over the land, as if every person in the world exhaled at once. Even though the emperor had only just died, he had been a dead weight for the country for years. He had been ill for so long, he used his illness as an excuse not to act. He knew his only choice for his dynasty’s survival was to compromise with the foreigners, but he couldn’t force himself to do it, so he, and the country, languished. With the emperor gone, someone else would be able to take the reins of the country and lead it forward, pull it out from the mire the foreigners had stuck it in. The only question was who that person would be.

  As expected, the emperor named his son as his successor. Little Zaichun became the Tongzhi Emperor, or he would as soon as the mourning ceremonies were completed and he was officially entitled. Even after that, though, the boy was only five years old and was in no position to rule. In an unexpected twist, Emperor Xianfeng did not name any of his brothers as co-regent to rule until the boy came of age. Instead, he appointed eight members of his inner circle all as co-regents, including General Sushun.

  As the mothers of the emperor, Imperial Concubine Yi was given the new title of Dowager Empress Cixi and Empress Zhen was given the title of Dowager Empress Ci’an. The women were now equals, but both were mere figureheads since women were not supposed to hold any real imperial powers.

  Late one evening, Empress Cixi called me into her chambers. She dismissed everyone else except for An Dehai, who never left his mistress’s side. She sat in her large chair silently for a long while before speaking. I kneeled before her, and I said nothing while I waited for her to decide what she wanted of me.

  “You are one of Prince Gong’s lovers, yes?” she finally asked me.

  I gasped in shock at the bluntness of her question and also the crassness of it. “No, Your Majesty. I have never known any man in that way, much less the prince.”

  “But you are close?” she pushed. “You are familiar with each other and he has approached you for aid in the past.”

  I blushed. She was right, but how much did she really know? She was wrong about us being lovers, so maybe she was just guessing about this, or maybe she knew the truth. Did she know I had helped him save the lives of the British emissaries? It was impossible to keep secrets for very long among the court. Eyes were always watching. I realized that my silence only confirmed her suspicions. I kowtowed to her and begged her for forgiveness without acknowledging anything specific.

  “Stop,” she commanded of my blathering. “I simply need to know if the prince trusts you, if he would listen to you.”

  “Yes, Your Majesty,” I said.