China by Edward Rutherfurd (historical books to read TXT) 📕

Prince Gong was already at the Summer Palace, visiting the lady he called Auntie. So he was on hand. Prince Sushun and his brother were summoned from the city, together with three or four ministers. Mr. Liu was also of the party. It looked as if the emperor meant to hold a council on the island.

As I say, the empress, several court ladies, and the Noble Consort Yi and her son had been expecting to go to the island. Whether the emperor forgot to change the order or he wanted them there, I do not know. But when they all appeared, just as he was setting off, he didn’t send them away. And since the Noble Consort Yi had told me to be in attendance on her, I’d turned up, too. So I tagged along behind with the servants and tried not to attract the attention of Mr. Liu. He soon saw me, of course, and shook his head in disbelief; but he didn’t say anything.

The Island of Shrines lay in a cove at the north end of the lake. There was a Buddhist temple and a Taoist shrine there, and another handsome house for the Dragon King, sea lord and bringer of rain. The shrines were very beautiful, full of golden ornament, and the emperor visited them all and made offerings before any business was discussed.

But one other building on the island was rather odd. This was a bell-tower pagoda, three stories high. Nothing strange about that, of course, except that one side of the second story was entirely covered by a big round white clock face. I’d never seen such a thing on a building. It looked most peculiar, especially in a temple complex. And I was just staring at it when I found Mr. Liu at my side.

“Ugly, isn’t it?” he said.

“It’s unusual, Mr. Liu,” I said carefully.

“I will tell you how it got there,” he went on. “Over a century ago, the Qianlong Emperor allowed a few of the barbarian priests to attend his court. These priests were called Jesuits. They had no wives, but they were quite well behaved and obedient. And they were surprisingly skilled in mathematics and painting—after their own fashion—and they knew a lot about geography. We’ve lost interest in geography since then, because it hardly seems relevant to our lives. But the Qianlong Emperor, who was a very great man, was always intrigued by every kind of knowledge. He even let the Jesuits visit the Summer Palace, and they made some paintings of him and his family.”

“I never knew that, Mr. Liu,” I said.

“I daresay the Jesuits hoped the Qianlong Emperor would let them make converts in his empire. And since they worship Jesus, like the Taiping do, it’s a good thing he didn’t, because look at the trouble the Taiping have caused.”

“Your servant is very glad he didn’t,” I replied warmly.

“He knew how to handle them.” Mr. Liu gave a nod.

“How was that, sir?” I asked.

“With Chinese diplomacy. Rule number one: Flatter the barbarian. Rule two: Give him hope. Rule three: Keep him waiting. Now the emperor admired some of their skills. Their clocks, for instance. So rather than let them erect a shrine to their god on the island here, he let them put a clock on the pagoda. Apparently it gave them great pleasure.”

“I think I can imagine it, sir,” I said with a laugh. “Each time the emperor saw the priest he would say, ‘I was just out at the Island of Shrines, my dear fellow, and I can tell you that your excellent clock is still keeping perfect time.’ ”

He gazed at me. “You’re quite amusing,” he remarked. “I’ll give you that.”

“May your humble servant ask,” I inquired, “if the barbarian priests ever became impatient?”

“Perhaps. But the art is to be polite and treat them well so they have nothing to complain of. Then gradually, like a man in love with an unattainable woman, hope deferred acquires a beauty all its own.” He smiled. “Our diplomacy towards the Jesuits worked just as efficiently as their clocks—though their clocks mark only the hours, while our diplomacy is told in centuries.”

“There are no Jesuits at the court now?”

“Not for a long time. They sneak into the kingdom occasionally, without permission, and try to convert the peasants in the hinterland; but usually we catch them and execute them. They’ve broken the law, after all.”

“Of course,” I agreed. “They deserve it.”

Once the emperor had finished his devotions at the temples, everyone was told to attend upon him. There was a patch of ground in front of the pagoda, with a small pond just behind, which made a pretty setting, if you kept your eyes off the clock. The servants had placed a big chair for the emperor and some covered benches for the members of his court. When the Noble Consort Yi sat on her bench, I knelt on the ground just behind. Nobody really noticed me, though I could see most of them and hear everything.

It’s strange: When the great lords of the world are discussing weighty matters, they never seem to worry about the servants being present. Maybe they trust us. Maybe they forget that we exist or think we’re just part of the furniture. Or maybe they like an audience. Of course, if the emperor was thinking of killing his brother or something bad, I suppose he’d be private about it. But generally it’s amazing what one can hear at court. I certainly heard everything that afternoon.

Though the emperor looked tired, he opened the discussion in quite a dignified voice. “You have all heard the news. The British barbarian Lord Elgin is back. He comes with the French envoy, Baron Gros, who was also here before.” He turned to Prince Sushun. “They are still at Hong Kong?”

“So we believe, Majesty. We imagine they will come north again.”

“How many troops did they bring?” the emperor wanted to know.

“British and French together, nearly twenty thousand.”

“That’s quite a lot,”