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whole court would accompany the body—the boy emperor, the dowager empresses, the regents, the lot of them.

“And that’ll be the end of your friend Prince Gong,” my father told me. “Once the regents take over in Peking, he’ll be out. If not something worse.”

The corpse was forty-four days old before it began its journey, in a golden carriage down the mountain passes towards the Great Wall. Within days, the rains had begun, and the cortege slowed its pace to a crawl. Everyone knew there were bandits up in that wild country.

“I must say,” the princess remarked to me, two days running, “I’m glad Prince Gong isn’t with them. Anything could happen to you in a storm up there and no one would be any the wiser.”

I thought of the Noble Consort Yi.

One evening I entered the chamber where Prince Gong liked to work, made a low bow, and asked if I might speak to him. He stared at me. “Well?”

“Your slave dares to wonder whether the young emperor and his party are safe as they travel through the mountains in this weather,” I said. “Might your slave inquire if Your Highness has any news?”

“You are wondering if the Noble Consort Yi is safe?”

“Your slave was concerned for all the party,” I said.

But he laughed. “Do you want me to give you a sword and tell you to go and defend her?”

My face must have given away the fact that this was my heart’s desire.

“I’ve just sent two of the best cavalry squadrons from my Beijing brigade to escort them,” he told me. “They’re on their way.”

It wasn’t until they’d been on the road for twenty-seven days that the imperial cortege came to the gates of Beijing. Even then, the heavy golden carriage containing the corpse was still a day’s journey in the rear. Prince Sushun himself rode with the late emperor’s body. Because he was the senior member of the regency council, this was the correct procedure.

But the boy emperor, the two empresses, the rest of the regents, and the court all came to the city gates that day. The weather was fine. The roofs of the city shone in the sunlight. The long street from the outer southern gate, which led through gateway after gateway until it reached the moated purple walls and golden roofs of the Forbidden City itself, had been covered half an inch deep in golden sand that made a gleaming path. On either side, all the way from the southern gate to the entrance of the Imperial City, blue screens had been set up to keep the boy emperor from being stared at.

And Prince Gong had summoned all twenty thousand of his new Beijing brigade, beautifully turned out to line the last part of the route and salute the emperor and the regents as they passed.

I was allowed to be in attendance on Prince Gong as he waited to receive the boy emperor at the gate of the Imperial City—an act of great kindness and thoughtfulness on his part. It was a splendid sight. The boy emperor and his mother were carried in a magnificent yellow chair. Prince Gong advanced to make the kowtow and then conducted the imperial party and the regents, in the most friendly manner, into the Forbidden City. I was walking just behind with some of the mandarins, who were all looking with great admiration at the splendid Beijing brigade guards who surrounded us.

It was just after we’d entered the Forbidden City that I noticed something a little strange.

The imperial party, the regents, and other members of the princely families were all going into a chamber where refreshments were to be served. The Beijing brigade guards were formed up by the doorway. Handsome young Prince Chun was with the imperial party, of course, but instead of entering with the rest, he hung back by the door. He seemed to be watching for a signal. I saw him give a slight nod. Then he stepped outside, as the guards closed the doors, and I saw him walking swiftly away.

Well, I hung about with the other people. And after a few minutes an extraordinary thing happened. The doors burst open. A company of guards marched out. And in their custody were the regents, Prince Sushun’s gang, the lot of them.

They’d been arrested.

The whole business took only seven days. Prince Chun and a squadron of cavalry arrested Prince Sushun within hours. They say he was found in bed with one of his concubines only yards from the dead emperor’s golden catafalque, which he was supposed to be guarding and respecting. It may be true or not. But there was no need to make up any bad stories about him. The mandarins hated him; the people hated him; the military were all against him. The Imperial Clan Court immediately found him and his gang guilty of crimes against the state. His brother and another royal regent were allowed to hang themselves. As for Sushun himself, he was beheaded like a common criminal.

But there was no vengeance against those who’d gone along with Sushun. I think Prince Gong was very wise. A new regents council headed by Prince Gong and including both the dowager empresses was soon in place. And life went on again.

As I look back on it now, I have to say that I think Prince Sushun was exceedingly foolish. Firstly, by excluding the royal uncles, he went against all precedent, so that put all the mandarins against him. Secondly, he tried to start a coup from a distant place, cut off from the power center of Beijing. For you need to be on the spot where all the players are.

Above all, he had no military force to make his enemies submit to him.

Power comes from the barrel of a gun—the barbarians had shown us that. Our huge numbers had been useless against their superior arms. And Prince Gong had twenty thousand well-trained men with modern rifles. It was never any contest.

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