great Chinese realm.



The death of the great emperor Kaotsou left two aspirants for the

throne, the princes Hoeiti, son of Liuchi, and Chow Wang, son of the

empress Tsi. There was a palace plot to raise Chow Wang to the throne,

but it was quickly foiled by the effective means used by the ambitious

Liuchi to remove the rivals from the path of her son. Poison did the

work. The empress Tsi unsuspiciously quaffed the fatal bowl, which was

then sent to Chow Wang, who innocently drank the same perilous draught.

Whatever may have been the state of the conspiracy, this vigorous method

of the queen-mother brought it to a sudden end, and Hoeiti ascended the

throne.



The young emperor seemingly did not approve of ascending to power over

the dead bodies of his opponents. He reproved his mother for her cruel

deed, and made a public statement that he had taken no part in the act.

Yet under this public demonstration secret influences seem to have been

at work within the palace walls, for the imperial poisoner retained her

power at court and her influence over her son. When the great princes

sought the capital to render homage to the new emperor, to their

surprise and chagrin they found the unscrupulous dowager empress at the

head of affairs, the sceptre of the realm practically in her hands.



They were to find that this dreadful woman was a dangerous foe to

oppose. Among the potentates was Tao Wang, Prince of Tsi, who, after

doing homage to the young emperor, was invited to feast with him. At

this banquet Liuchi made her appearance, and when the wine was passed

she insisted on being served first. These unpardonable breaches of

etiquette--which they were in the Chinese code of good manners--were

looked upon with astonishment by the visiting prince, who made no effort

to conceal his displeasure on seeing any one attempt to drink before the

emperor.



Liuchi, perceiving that she had made an enemy by her act, at once

resolved to remove him from her path, with the relentless and terrible

decision with which she had disposed of her former rivals. Covertly

dropping the poison, which she seems to have always had ready for use,

into a goblet of wine, she presented it to the prince of Tsi, asking him

to pledge her in a draught. The unsuspicious guest took the goblet from

her hand, without a dream of what the courtesy meant.



Fortunately for him, the emperor, who distrusted his mother too deeply

to leave her unobserved, had seen her secret act and knew too well what

it meant. Snatching the fatal bowl from the prince's hand, he begged

permission to pledge his health in that wine, and, with his eyes fixed

meaningly on his mother's face, lifted it in turn to his royal lips.



The startled woman had viewed the act with wide eyes and trembling

limbs. Seeing her son apparently on the point of drinking, an

involuntary cry of warning burst from her, and, springing hastily to her

feet, she snatched the fatal cup from his hand and dashed it to the

floor. The secret was revealed. The prince of Tsi had been on the very

point of death. With an exclamation of horror, and a keen invective

addressed to the murderess, he rushed from that perilous room, and very

probably was not long in hastening from a city which held so powerful

and unscrupulous a foe.



The Chinese Borgia's next act of violence found a barbarian for its

victim. The Tartar chief Mehe sent an envoy to the capital of China,

with a message which aroused the anger of the empress, who at once

ordered him to be executed, heedless of the fact that she thus brought

the nation to the brink of war. Four years afterwards Hoeiti, the

emperor, died, leaving vacant the throne which he had so feebly filled.



It is not to be supposed that Liuchi had any hand in this closing of a

brief and uneventful reign. Her son was in no sense in her way, and

served as a useful shield behind which she held the reins of

government. But she was in no haste to fill the vacant throne,

preferring to rule openly as the supreme power in the realm. In order to

consolidate her strength, she placed her brothers and near relations in

the great posts of the empire, and strengthened her position by every

means fair and foul.



It soon became evident, however, that this ambitious scheme could not be

carried through. Throughout the land went up a cry for a successor to

the dead emperor. In this dilemma the daring woman adopted a bold plan,

bringing forward a boy who she declared was the offspring of her dead

son, and placing this child of unknown parents upon the vacant throne.

As a regent was needed during the minority of her counterfeit grandson,

she had herself proclaimed as the holder of this high office.



All this was very little to the taste of the ministers of the late

emperor. Never before had the government of China been in the hands of a

woman. But they dared not make an effort to change it, or even to speak

their sentiments in too loud a tone. Liuchi had ways of suppressing

discontent that forced her enemies to hold their peace. The only one who

ventured to question the arbitrary will of the regent was the mother of

the nominal emperor, and sudden death removed her from the scene.

Liuchi's ready means of vengeance had been brought into play again.



For years now the imperious empress ruled China unquestioned. Others who

ventured on her path may have fallen, but the people remained content,

so that the usurper seems to have avoided any oppression of her

subjects. But these years brought the child she had placed on the throne

well on towards man's estate, and he began to show signs of an intention

to break loose from leading-strings. He was possessed of ability, or at

least of energy, and there were those ready to whisper in his ear the

bitter tale of how his mother had been forced to swallow Liuchi's

draught of death.



Stirred to grief and rage by these whispers of a fell deed, the youthful

ruler vowed revenge upon the murderess. He vowed his own death in doing

so. His hasty words were carried by spies to Liuchi's ears, and with her

usual promptness she caused the imprudent youth to be seized and

confined within the palace prison. The puppet under whom she ruled had

proved inconvenient, and there was not a moment's hesitation in putting

him out of the way. What became of him is not known, the prison rarely

revealing its secrets, but from Liuchi's character we may safely surmise

his fate.



The regent at once set to work to choose a more pliant successor to her

rebellious tool. But her cup of crime was nearly full. Though the people

remained silent, there was deep discontent among the officials of the

realm, while the nobles were fiercely indignant at this virtual seizure

of the throne by an ambitious woman. The storm grew day by day. One

great chief boldly declared that he acknowledged "neither empress nor

emperor," and the family of the late monarch Kaotsou regained their

long-lost courage on perceiving these evidences of a spirit of revolt.



Dangers were gathering around the resolute regent. But her party was

strong, her hand firm, her courage and energy great, and she would

perhaps have triumphed over all her foes had not the problem been

unexpectedly solved by her sudden death. The story goes that, while

walking one day in the palace halls, meditating upon the best means of

meeting and defeating her numerous foes, she found herself suddenly face

to face with a hideous spectre, around which rose the shades of the

victims whom she had removed by poison or violence from her path. With a

spasm of terror the horrified woman fell and died. Conscience had

smitten her in the form of this terrific vision, and retribution came to

the poisoner in the halls which she had made infamous by her crimes.



Her death ended the hopes of her friends. Her party fell to pieces

throughout the realm, but a strong force still held the palace, where

they fiercely defended themselves against the army brought by their

foes. But their great empress leader was gone, one by one they fell in

vain defence, and the capture of the palace put an end to the power

which the woman usurper had so long and vigorously maintained.