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Title: With the Empress Dowager of China
Author: Katharine A. Carl
Release date: January 26, 2025 [eBook #75210]
Language: English
Original publication: United States: The Century Co, 1905
Credits: Aaron Adrignola, Richard Illner and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK WITH THE EMPRESS DOWAGER OF CHINA ***
With the
Empress Dowager
of China
By
Katharine A. Carl
Illustrated by the Author
and with Photographs
[Illustration: Printer Logo]
New York
The Century Co.
1907
Copyright, 1905, by
THE CENTURY CO.
_Published November, 1905._
[Illustration: PORTRAIT OF THE EMPRESS DOWAGER
This is the portrait which was exhibited at the St. Louis
Exposition, is now owned by the United States Government,
and is in the National Museum at Washington]
TO SIR ROBERT HART
To whose helpful encouragement I owe so
much, I affectionately dedicate this account
of my experiences at the Court of the country
he has so long and faithfully served.
KATHARINE A. CARL.
_=New York, May=, 1905._
Contents
PAGE
CHAPTER I. 3
MY PRESENTATION AND FIRST DAY AT THE CHINESE COURT
Drive Out to the Summer Palace--Presentation--Beginning the
Portrait--Luncheon--The Palace Theater--My Pavilion within the
Precincts.
CHAPTER II. 18
PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF HER MAJESTY--A CHINESE REPAST--
BOATING
Second Sitting--The Siesta--Her Majesty’s Barge--A Promenade
on the Lake.
CHAPTER III. 27
THE PALACE OF THE EMPEROR’S FATHER
A Chinese Palace--Gardens--The Chinese Poem--Tombstones of
Pets--The Highway from Peking to the Summer Palace--Chinese
Modes of Locomotion--The Seventh Prince.
CHAPTER IV. 34
HER MAJESTY’S THRONE-ROOM
Clocks--Third Sitting--A Promenade in the Gardens--The
Orchard--The Empress Dowager’s Love of Flowers--Customs as
to Fruits and Flowers.
CHAPTER V. 42
THE YOUNG EMPRESS AND LADIES OF THE COURT
The Young Empress--The Secondary Wife--The Princesses--
Children by Adoption--Chinese Widows--The Princess Imperial--
The Relationships of the Princesses of the Blood--The Maids
and Tiring-women--Women of the Eighth Banner--The Chinese
Woman at Court--Slaves.
CHAPTER VI. 50
CONTINUATION OF THE PORTRAIT
Advantages and Disadvantages of Painting in the Throne-room--
The Empress Dowager’s Voice--Chinese Opinion as to Portraits
of Royalty--Walks with Her Majesty--Her Dogs--Their
Pavilions--Cats--The Empress Dowager’s Gift of “Me-lah.”
CHAPTER VII. 57
FESTIVITIES AT COURT
The Celebration of His Majesty’s Birthday--Invitation from
the Empress Dowager to be Present--Birthday Plays--The
Imperial Actors--Birthday Decorations of the Palace Courts
and Buildings--Presents--First Gala Performance--Luncheon in
the Court of the Theater--The Mat-sheds at the Palace--
Visitors--Chinese Courtesy--The Imperial Theater at Summer
Palace--Actresses--Customs of Manchu Women.
CHAPTER VIII. 64
HIS MAJESTY THE EMPEROR
Beginning of his Reign--The Name of an Emperor--The Manchu
Dynasty--Personality of the Emperor--Appearance--His
Orientalism--His Dreams of Progress--His Edicts--Despatches--
The Emperor’s Palace and Attendants--His Studies and Talents--
Early Rising--His Meals--Conventionalities Observed--Dislike
of Public Functions.
CHAPTER IX. 73
THE EMPEROR’S BIRTHDAY
Morning Salutations--His Majesty’s Throne-room--The Imperial
Pearl-Buttons Denoting Rank of Officials--Manchu Buttons--
“Lever” of the Empress Dowager--Court Costume--Young Empress
in Court Attire--Going in State to Audience Hall--Official
Congratulation by High Officials and Princes--The Young
Empress’s Palace--Presentation of Jade Emblem (Ruyie)--Young
Empress’s Official Congratulation to the Emperor--Simplicity
of Attire of Empress Dowager--Grand Theatrical Representation
at Palace Theater--Imperial Congratulatory Poem--Splendid
Costumes--Luncheon in the Court of the Theater--Children at
Court--The Emperor’s Presents to the Manchu Nobles and High
Officials--The Finale at the Theater--Spectacular Procession--
Thanks of the Princes and Nobles--Bowing to the “Great
Ancestress”--The Procession to the Hall of Ancestral Tablets.
CHAPTER X. 87
PEKING--THE SEA PALACE
His Majesty’s Sacrifice to his Ancestors--The Empress
Dowager’s Favorite Summer-house--The Sacred Picture--The
United States Legation at Peking--Mrs. Conger’s Relations
with Chinese Ladies--The Sea Palace--The Boats of the
Lake--Our Resting-place at the Sea Palace--Promenade on the
Lake--The Eunuch Li-Wun-ti--Memory--Story-telling--The
Island--Temple Gardens--Two Temples--Cathedral within the
Precincts--Theater.
CHAPTER XI. 100
SOME CHARACTERISTICS OF HER MAJESTY--SECOND VISIT TO
THE SEA PALACE
The Empress Dowager’s Magnetic Personality--Interesting
Study--Her Chinese Appellations--Hall of Mongolian Princes--
Dragon Wall--Fruits Sent to the Palace--Repast at the Sea
Palace--Promenade in the Train of Her Majesty--The Imperial
Gourds--A Promenade in the Rain--Rest in Hall of Mongolian
Princes--Archery in China--The Sunset Call.
CHAPTER XII. 111
RETURN TO THE SUMMER PALACE
The Empress Dowager as a Psychological Study--Seeing Her
Face to Face--Work on Portrait Resumed--Easels and Cases
for Materials for Work on Sacred Picture--Walks--Refreshments
for the Promenades--Imperial Tea--The Empress Dowager’s Tea
and Tea-cups--Her Deftness with her Fingers--Her
Thoughtfulness.
CHAPTER XIII. 117
THE STEAM-LAUNCH--SEMI-ANNUAL SACRIFICES TO CONFUCIUS
Chinese Tolerance in Religious Matters--Halls of Confucius--
The Odes to Peace--Burning the Offerings.
CHAPTER XIV. 123
THE PALACE EUNUCHS
Their Grades--The Chief Eunuchs--Li Lien Ying--His Power
with the Courtiers--“L’Eminence Grise” of the Court--The
Shut-in Position of Chinese Imperial Rulers--Need of an
Unofficial Messenger--Personal Appearance of Li Lien Ying--
Sui, Her Majesty’s Second Eunuch--Punishment of Eunuchs--
Pupils--Opium Smoking--Pets--Good Manners of the Eunuchs.
CHAPTER XV. 130
LITERARY TASTES AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS OF THE EMPRESS
DOWAGER
The Empress of the Eastern Palace--Co-Regency--Her Majesty’s
Literary Tastes--Her Love of Heroic Poems--Her Memory--The
Chinese Joan of Arc--The Empress, Widow of Tung-Chih--The
Empress Dowager’s Reader and her Favorite Authors--Her Love
of the Theater--Her Humor--A Great Stickler for Purity of
Language--Li-Hung-Chang’s Chinese--How the Empress Dowager
Speaks It--Her Writing of the Great Characters--The Chinese
Written Character--Painting--Embroidery--Her Designs for
Floral Decorations--Cultivation of her Person--The
Empress Dowager an Epicure--Her Soaps and Perfumes--Her
Personal Magnetism as a Power over Animals--The Escaped
Bird--The Katydid.
CHAPTER XVI. 142
THE GREAT AUDIENCE HALL
Hours of the Audiences--The Audience Hall at Summer Palace--
Its Interior--Ancient and Modern Thrones and Dais--Audiences
of Heads of Departments--The Grand Council--Official
Despatches--Telegrams--The Cushions for Members of the Grand
Council--Special Audiences--The Introducing Eunuch--Amusing
Subterfuge of Officials at Audience--The Young Emperor and
Tiresome Official--Sacred Quality of the Imperial Person--
Mode of Address of Courtiers--The Kow-tow.
CHAPTER XVII. 149
THE SUMMER PALACE
The Empress Dowager’s Favorite Palace--The Marble Terrace--
The Hills of the Summer Palace--The Temple of the Ten
Thousand Buddhas--Memorial Arches--The Marble Bridge--The
Canals--Camel-back Bridges--Chinese Architecture--Utilitarian
Spirit of the Chinese--Flowers and Fields in the Park of
Summer Palace--Grand Peony Mountain--The Sacred Buddha-Temple
of the Ten Thousand Buddhas--Ruins of Old Summer Palace--
Views from the Summer Palace Belvederes--When Their Majesties
Go Abroad.
CHAPTER XVIII. 156
FESTIVAL OF THE HARVEST MOON
The Chinese Love of Festivals--The Fruit of Immortality--The
Little Handmaiden and her White Rabbit--The Play at the
Palace Theater on the Mid-Autumn Festival--Dinner in the
Imperial Loge--Procession to the Moonlit Terrace--Floral
Pai-lou to the Moon--“Bowing” to the Moon--The Poem to the
Moon--The Burnt-Offering--Return to the Palace on the Moonlit
Lake--Continuation of the Portrait--Some Disadvantages of Too
Much Pleasure--Hospitality of the Empress Dowager--Chinese
Conventions and Traditions--Wonderful Opportunities for
Picturesqueness in Painting the Empress Dowager--Restrictions
Imposed by Chinese Tradition--First Exhibition of the “Sacred
Picture”--Description of First Portrait of the Empress
Dowager--How I Should Have Liked to Paint Her.
CHAPTER XIX. 165
A GARDEN PARTY
Reception to the Diplomatic Corps and Ladies of the
Legation--The Ceremony of Reception of the Ladies--The
Empress Dowager’s Cordiality--Taking Tea in the Audience
Hall--Luncheon in the Throne-room--Promenade on the Lake--
Visit to the Palace and Temple on the Island--The Marble
Boat--Lack of Harmony among the Guests at Garden Party--
Chinese Comment on our Costumes and Appearance--Dislike of
Blonde Hair.
CHAPTER XX. 171
BEGINNING A SECOND PORTRAIT OF THE EMPRESS DOWAGER
Putting the Characters Representing Her Majesty’s Titles and
her Two Seals on the Portrait--Beginning the Small Portrait--
Toilette d’Intimité--“Hailo” and “Shadza”--The Palace
Painters--Their Manner of Working--New Variety of
Chrysanthemum--The “Peafowl Feather”--The Audience Hall
Pianos--Her Majesty’s Ideas of Dancing.
CHAPTER XXI. 178
A EUROPEAN CIRCUS AT THE PALACE
The Posters--Sites for the Ring--The Turnip Field--Their
Majesties Go in State across the Lake--The Houseboats--The
Young Empress’s State Boat--The Imperial Loges at the
Circus--Invited Officials--Bands of Music--A Glimpse of the
Manchu Princes and Some High Officials--The Son of the
Imperial Princess--The Opera Glasses of Their Majesties--What
Interested Them Most.
CHAPTER XXII. 185
PALACE CUSTOMS
Early Rising--When the Empress Dowager Sleeps--Her Bedroom--
Irregular Hours except for the Audience--Domestic Duties--
Her Favorite Game--Her Luck--Her Meals--Conventions Observed
at the Empress Dowager’s Table--Her Dishes--The Hour of the
Siesta--Her Promenades--The Days of the Theater--When Their
Majesties Dine Together--Rigorous Observance of Fasts at the
Table of the Empress Dowager--Court Etiquette--The Graceful
Bow--Rigid Observance of Court Customs--Her Majesty’s Reproof
of Too Indulgent Mother.
CHAPTER XXIII. 194
HER MAJESTY’S ANXIETY--HER BIRTHDAY
Her Anxiety--Exterior and Interior Troubles--Preparations
for Her Majesty’s Birthday--Her Desire to Have Everything
as Simple as Possible and to Spare Expense--The Emperor’s
Wish to Celebrate with the Usual Pomp, and Desire to Bestow
a New Title upon the Empress Dowager--Difference of Her
Majesty’s Interest in her Own and the Emperor’s Birthday--
When She Received the Congratulations--Early Hour of
Congratulation--The Interior of the Throne-room and
Decorations for the Birthday--Winter Court Dress of the
Ladies--The Empress Dowager’s Fatigue.
CHAPTER XXIV. 200
THE WINTER PALACE
The Empress Dowager’s Love of the Summer Palace--Return to
Peking--Young Empress and Ladies Precede and Receive Her on
the Threshold of her Own Throne-room--City of Peking, the
Palace within the Forbidden City--Its many Walls within
Walls--The Guard-Houses--The Ceremony of Reception--The
Throne-room of the Winter Palace--The Interior Dome--Her
Majesty’s Sitting-room--Private Chapel--Portraits of Queen
Victoria--The Three Great Halls--The Spirit-Stairway--The
Central Hall--Presents from European Royalties--Where I was
to Paint--The Emperor’s Precincts--Tradition at the Winter
Palace.
CHAPTER XXV. 211
PEKING--BEGINNING THE PORTRAIT FOR ST. LOUIS
Legation Quarter--Morning Ride to the Palace--Splendid Walls
of the Palace and City--The Streets in the Forbidden City--A
Funeral--The Mongolians--Beggars at the Gate--
Unsatisfactoriness of Studio at Winter Palace--Her Majesty
Orders It Remodeled--Beginning Portrait for St. Louis--
Imperial Paraphernalia and Insignia of Royalty--Importance
of Propriety--The Throne--Her Majesty’s Costume for the
Portrait--Pearl Mantle--First Sketch--Stretching the Great
Canvas.
CHAPTER XXVI. 219
SOME SOCIAL CUSTOMS
Manchu Ladies of the Palace--Presentation, on Their Marriage,
of Manchu Noblewomen--Bridal Costume--Sedan Chairs--By Whom
Bride is Presented--The Young Empress’s Graciousness--A
Daughter in a Manchu Family--Comparison of Manchu and
American Girl--The Unmarried Daughter of the Manchus--Her
Position in the Family--Social Qualities--The Manchu Men--
Sports--Costume--Young Dandies--Concubinage--Early Marriages
of Men--Secondary Wives--The Family--Secondary Wives of an
Emperor--Their Rank--Position in the Palace--Title.
CHAPTER XXVII. 230
PRESENT-GIVING
The Palace as the Heart of Empire--Occasions on which
Presents are Given (Private, Official, and Festivals)--
Style of Presents Given by the Empress Dowager--Presents to
the Ladies of Legation--Birthday Presents--Some Presents
Received by Me from Her Majesty.
CHAPTER XXVIII. 237
SOME WINTER DAYS AT THE PALACE
The Portrait for America--Details and Accessories of the
Same--Days at the Palace--The Meals in Winter--Winter
Evenings--Learning Chinese--Occupations of the Ladies--The
Young Empress’s Birthday--Days of Mourning at the Palace--
Anniversary of Death of the Emperor Tung-Chih--The Empress
Dowager’s Sorrow.
CHAPTER XXIX. 245
RELIGIOUS RITES
The Three Great Religions--The Temple of Heaven--The Emperor
as High Priest--Preparations for the Sacrifice to Heaven--
Buddhism and Taoism--Confucius--Origin of Chinese Religious
Ceremonies--Vitality of China as a Nation--Its Amalgamation
of Conquering Races--The Manchus--Some Nature Worship--The
Festival of the Awakening of Spring at the Palace--Guardians
of the Cocoons.
CHAPTER XXX. 253
HER MAJESTY THE EMPRESS DOWAGER
Her Family--Presentation at Court--Fifth Wife of the Emperor
Hsien-Feng--Favorite of Empress Mother and First Wife--Birth
of a Son--Death of Emperor Hsien-Feng--Empress of Western
Palace--Co-Regents for Young Emperor Tung-Chih--Friendliness
of the Two Co-Regents--State of China at Beginning of
Regency--Intrigue--The Anti-foreign Princes--Prince Kung--
First Political Act of Young Empress of Western Palace--
Support of the Princes of the Blood--The Emperor Tung-Chih
Begins to Reign--Death of Tung-Chih--Resumption of the
Regency by the Empress Dowager--Minority of Kwang-Hsu--Death
of Empress of Eastern Palace--Policy of Empress Dowager--The
Emperor Kwang-Hsu Begins to Reign--His Policy--The War with
Japan--Change of Policy by the Emperor--The Progress Party--
The Ultra-Conservatives--Return from Retirement of the Empress
Dowager--The Emperor’s Edict--So-called Coup d’État--Rout of
Progress Party--Punishment of Ringleaders--Effect on the
Emperor--Reign of Emperor “Assisted” by Empress Dowager--The
Secret Society of the Boxers--Its Growth--Boxers in the
Capital--Boxers among the Princes of the Blood--The Outbreak
in Peking--Reported Cause of Outbreak--The Emperor and Empress
Dowager’s Attempt to Check Movement--The Imperial Military
Forces--Position of Legation Quarter in Peking--British
Legation--Return of Their Majesties to Peking--Edicts Issued--
Arrival of Allies in Peking--Flight of Her Majesty and the
Court--The Route to Singan Fu--Hardships Endured--Incidents.
CHAPTER XXXI. 270
HER MAJESTY THE EMPRESS DOWAGER (CONTINUED)
Her Charities--Incident of the Boxer Rising--Widows’ Petition
to the Empress Dowager--Her Majesty’s Action thereon--Her
Extravagance--Extravagance in the Palace--Efforts of Past
Emperors for Economy--Cost of Food in the Palace--Her
Majesty’s Personal Extravagance--Her Jewels--Wardrobe--
Examples of Her Economy--Her Patriotism--Scheme of Taxation--
Her Penetration--Her Judgment--Her Prejudices--Sarcasm--Her
Determination--Tact--Social Instinct--Reception of Young
German Prince.
CHAPTER XXXII. 279
THE CHINESE NEW YEAR
Greatest Festival of the Year--Decorations of the Palace--
Imitation Money--New Year’s Presents--Work on Portrait--Some
Changes--Removal of the Court to Sea Palace--My Studio at Sea
Palace--New Year’s Audience of Ladies of the Legation--
Congratulations--Lantern Festival--The Illuminated
Procession--The Double Dragon--The Flaming Pearl--Fireworks
in the Palace--Day Rockets--Old Customs as to the Fireworks
in the Palace Grounds.
CHAPTER XXXIII. 287
CONTINUATION OF THE ST. LOUIS PORTRAIT
Propitious Date for Finishing it--Changing Ornaments--Frame
for Portrait--Spring Days--Her Majesty’s Walks--Inspecting
the New Buildings--The Jinrikisha--The Miniature Railway--Her
Majesty’s Automobiles--Kite Flying--His Majesty the Emperor
Plows and Sows the Seed of a Furrow.
CHAPTER XXXIV. 294
FINISHING AND SENDING OFF THE PORTRAIT
Nineteenth Day of April--Invitations to Ladies of the
Legation to see the Portrait--Visit of the Ladies to the
Palace--The Portrait--Princes and Nobles see the “Sacred
Picture”--Attempt to Photograph--Portrait taken to
Wai-Wu-Pu--Visit of Corps Diplomatique--Packing the Portrait--
Special Railway built from Foreign Office to Railway Station--
Departure of Picture--En route--Tientsin--Shanghai--
Embarkation for San Francisco--Reception by Prince Pu L’un
and Imperial Commission at St. Louis--Unveiling the
Portrait--Placing the Portrait in the Gallery of Fine Arts--
Arrival at Washington--Presentation to the Government.
CHAPTER XXXV. 300
RETURN TO THE SUMMER PALACE
Return to the Summer Palace--The Palace of the Emperor’s
Father in Spring--The Grounds of the Summer Palace--The
Studio--At Work Again--The Theater--His Majesty’s Theater
Program--Work of the Vermilion Pencil--His Majesty’s
Interest in the Russo-Japanese War--Spring Garden Party to
the Ladies of the Legation--Another large Portrait of Her
Majesty--Showing it to the Ladies--Her Majesty’s Desire for
Highly Finished Detail--Her Delight in her New Hobby--Final
Days.
List of Illustrations
Portrait of the Empress Dowager _Frontispiece_
FACING PAGE
The Empress and the Ladies of the Court in the Imperial Barge 24
Princesses of the Court 40
The Young Empress Ye-Ho-Na-Lah 44
At the American Legation, Peking 88
Chinese Architecture 104
On the Road from Peking to the Summer Palace 112
The Empress Dowager Writing a “Great Character” 136
The Empress Dowager in the Gardens of the Summer Palace 140
The Official Audience of Their Majesties 146
Old Ruins in the Summer Palace 152
The Secondary Wife of the Emperor 168
Pai-lou in the Grounds of the Summer Palace--on the Shore
of the Lake 176
Princesses of the Court 188
Court in the Winter Palace--“Her Majesty Comes” 204
Confucian Temple--“Spirit-Stairway” in Central Flight of
Steps 208
Prince Ching 216
The Author in Chinese Costume 234
Temple of Heaven--Peking 246
Altar to the Invisible Deity 250
Slave Girls 280
The Portrait of the Empress Dowager in its Frame 304
INTRODUCTORY
In April, 1903, while I was visiting in Shanghai, I received a letter
from Mrs. Conger, wife of the Minister of the United States to Peking,
in which she said there was a question of Her Majesty the Empress
Dowager’s having her portrait painted, and asking me if such a thing
should be arranged would I be willing to come to Peking and undertake
it. Mrs. Conger hoped, if the project should materialize, that Her
Majesty might later consent to send the portrait to the Exposition
at St. Louis. She thought such a portrait would be of great interest
to the American people and might prove an attractive feature to
the Exposition, in which she and Mr. Conger were, naturally, much
interested. She also felt, as she had had an opportunity of seeing a
good deal of the Empress Dowager, that if the world could see a true
likeness of her, it might modify the generally accepted idea which
prevailed as to Her Majesty’s character.
I answered Mrs. Conger’s letter, saying I should be delighted to
undertake the work, should it be decided upon, and I awaited further
developments. The idea of sitting for her portrait met with Her
Majesty’s approval, and she said she would arrange an Audience and
set a day for beginning. But the “mills of”--Chinese Officialdom
“grind slowly,” and not until July did Mrs. Conger receive an official
notification from the Wai-Wu-Pu (Chinese Foreign Office) requesting
“Her Excellency Mrs. Conger to present the American artist, Miss Carl,
to Her Imperial Majesty on the fifth day of August, for the purpose of
painting a portrait of Her Majesty.” Mrs. Conger immediately informed
me of the reception of this document, and I left Shanghai for Peking on
the 29th of July. I was cordially received, on my arrival in Peking,
by Mr. and Mrs. Conger at the American Legation, and on the fifth of
August was presented by Mrs. Conger to Her Majesty the Empress Dowager
at the Summer Palace in private Audience.
As it was a great innovation in Chinese customs and a breaking away
from long-established tradition for an Imperial portrait to be painted,
there was no precedent to follow and all arrangements were of the
vaguest kind; and when I went into the Palace for my first Audience, I
did not know whether I would have one sitting or ten, and no one else
seemed to have any more definite information. All was uncertainty.
Everything depended upon Her Majesty’s inclination, and future
developments must be awaited. I felt that I was really going into the
Palace on trial and that my reception and the work depended upon the
fantasy and whims of a great Personage from whom, according to current
reports, I had but little to expect. On the day of my first Audience,
I was told at the Foreign Office that Her Majesty was to give me but
one sitting, hence it was not in a very tranquil state of mind that
I went up to be presented to the Great Empress Dowager, Tze-Shi! But
all this was changed when I saw her. She received me kindly, was very
gracious. A Palace was set aside for me, and every facility afforded me
for my work: during my sojourn at the Chinese Court I painted not only
the portrait for the Exposition at St. Louis, but three others of Her
Majesty.
Unique as my experiences at the different Palaces of Their Celestial
Majesties were, I concluded, after I had lived at Court for a few
months, I would never make these experiences public. The Empress
Dowager received me in so friendly a manner, I met with such
consideration at her hands and such unfailing courtesy from all with
whom I came in contact, I felt I should requite this kindness by
an equal consideration, and that it was my duty to respect Chinese
prejudices and conform to their ideas of “Propriety” by refraining from
any relation of my charming experiences.
After I returned to America, I was constantly seeing in newspapers
(and hearing of) statements ascribed to me which I never made. Her
Majesty was represented as having stood over me in threatening
attitudes, forcing me to represent her as a young and beautiful woman!
It was reported that she refused to give me any compensation for the
portraits, and a number of other statements, equally false, were
daily appearing in the papers. The London “Times,” in speaking of the
Empress Dowager, said: “Some one has said ‘she has the soul of a tiger
in the body of a woman,’ and Miss Carl found the old lady shrewd and
tempestuous.” The latter statement, which I never made, seemed to me
enough to have on my shoulders, but the article was copied in American
papers and I was put down as the author of the first, as well as of
the second statement. The power of the Press has become such that it
cannot be ignored. It is of no avail to say nothing in such a case as
mine; when you do this, words are put into your mouth and sentiments
ascribed to you at the will of the newsmongers. If a correction be
made, it never seems to get the same circulation or publicity as the
first statement. These erroneous statements continue to appear, and I
have finally decided that, in justice to my August Patroness as well
as to my humbler self, it is incumbent upon me to correct them, and it
seems to me the only proper way to do so is to write a full and true
relation of my life at the Palace and my experiences while painting the
portraits of Her Majesty the Empress Dowager.
I know I publish this account at the risk of offending the
sensibilities of my Chinese friends, for many of them will never
know what called it forth. I know that by so doing I may change any
favorable opinion they may have formed as to my good-breeding and
discretion. I was on sufficiently intimate terms with Her Majesty and
the Ladies of the Court to know that this account will be looked upon
by them as an “indiscretion,” to say the least of it.
In this story of my life at the Palace, I must naturally give some
description of Their Majesties and necessarily make some comment
upon their characters. In doing this, I will transgress another
long-established rule of Chinese Propriety, which makes any comment,
favorable or unfavorable, upon the Sacred Persons of Their Majesties,
a breach of etiquette. No act of theirs is ever criticized, no report
in reference to them is ever explained, no slander about them is ever
refuted by loyal Chinese, and the generality of Chinese are loyal. Thus
the falsest statements, not being refuted by those in a position to
know, gain in credence until they are reported as facts.
If my comment on Their Majesties and discussion of their acts be
favorable, this will be no palliation from the Chinese standpoint. Any
sort of comment will be looked upon as a breach of hospitality. I have
absolutely nothing to gain, should I suppress any disagreeable facts I
may have learned as to Her Majesty. Should I be willing to sacrifice
the truth, in order to please my Chinese friends, this would avail me
nothing, for should my account of Her Majesty be construed by them into
an apology for her, I would be considered most presumptuous and the
enormity of my offense aggravated. Thus I am between two fires. Those
who read my account may imagine I am trying to justify Her Majesty and
thereby gain her favor; and should the Chinese put this construction
on it, my indiscretion will become an offense. Knowing all this, and
with the memory of the charming consideration I received at the Chinese
Court, I nevertheless feel it is my duty to publish a simple and
truthful narrative of my experiences, and I hope I may be pardoned for
thus breaking Chinese conventions.
The Boxer rebellion was a frequent topic of conversation at the Palace
and I heard a great deal about it from the Ladies of the Court. It was
not considered at all indiscreet to ask questions on this subject, and
I did not hesitate to inform myself by asking about things I wished to
know. If it be true, as the philosophers say, that “the proper study
of mankind is man under his own environment,” I had an opportunity of
studying Her Majesty on the right principles. My account of her should,
therefore, have some little value, for I am the only European who has
ever had a chance to study this remarkable woman in her own milieu, or
to look upon the facts of her life from the standpoint within her own
circle.
In this simple relation of what I saw of the customs, religious
rites and ceremonies, I have also preferred to rest upon my own
personal interpretation of the same, rather than to study the learned
explanations of the many clever Sinologues, whose works abound. These
works may be consulted by those who desire to enter more deeply into
things. I had no time to make a comprehensive study of any works on
the subject, and I purposely have read nothing and consulted no books
on China, wishing to give a fresh impression. As all their curious
ceremonies were a matter of course to the Chinese, they had become so
petrified by long use and tradition, as to have, in many instances,
lost their original signification to most of those who went through
them. I could thus get very little help from the Chinese and was
forced to put my own interpretation upon things. I feel that, with my
limited capacities, and my inexperience as a writer, the only reason
for my entering this field at all lies in the interest of what I saw,
as I saw it. Notwithstanding the attitude of the Court in this matter,
I have decided to run the risk of incurring their displeasure and
reprobation, for I feel assured that what I have to say may serve to
clear up certain misapprehensions and place Her Majesty the Empress
Dowager in more favorable light. What follows is but the simple
narration, the unsophisticated interpretation, of an observant painter.
[Illustration: Ornamental Design]
WITH THE EMPRESS
DOWAGER OF CHINA
CHAPTER I
MY PRESENTATION AND FIRST DAY AT THE
CHINESE COURT
The day of my first Audience at the Chinese Court, August 5th, we were
up betimes at the American Legation, for it takes full three hours to
drive out to the Summer Palace from Peking; and punctuality is the
etiquette of Oriental as well as of Occidental potentates. Our audience
was for half-past ten o’clock, and the portrait of the Empress Dowager
was to be begun at eleven; that hour, as well as the day and the month,
having been chosen, after much deliberation and many consultations of
the almanac, as the most auspicious for beginning work on the first
likeness ever made of Her Majesty.
We left the Legation at seven A.M. in the trap of the United States
Legation Guard, that being the only vehicle available large enough to
carry the party, Mrs. Conger and her interpreter and myself and my
painting materials, which included a large canvas and a folding easel.
After leaving the City, the drive out to the Summer Palace is through
fertile fields and a fair, smiling landscape. It had rained the night
before and everything was beautifully fresh. The wet, stone-paved road
stretched ahead like a shining stream; the wheat and corn fields along
the road were of a brilliant green, with here and there the somber note
of a clump of arbor-vitæ, out of which rose the walls of a temple! The
distant hills, where lay the Summer Palace, were delicately limned
against a soft blue-gray sky, and the whole made an entrancing picture.
Soon after leaving Peking the mounted official Legation servants that
followed Mrs. Conger’s carriage were joined by a Chinese Guard of Honor
sent by the Wai-Wu-Pu (Foreign Office) to escort us to the Palace.
After an hour and a half’s drive we rattled through a busy village,
past the yellow ruins of a great lama temple, and along the park walls
of the summer homes of several Princes of the Imperial Family, and
soon came within sight of the beautiful grounds of the Summer Palace
with its hills, valleys, canals, and lakes; the hills crowned with
tea-houses and temples, the waters of the canals lapping the marble
terraces of the Palaces. The red walls and glazed tiles of the yellow
and green roofs, the brilliant foliage, freshened by the rain, made a
gay picture; and the temples, arches, pagodas, and the many buildings
that constitute a Chinese palace gave it the appearance of a whole town
rather than of a single palace.
As in all Oriental palaces, upon the very threshold of the outer courts
sit the beggar, the lame, the halt, and the blind, gathering rich
harvests from the generosity of the high nobles and officials and their
myriad retainers as they pass in and out of the Foreign Office and the
outer courts of the Palace. The Foreign Office, during the residence
of the Court at the Summer Palace, sixteen miles from the Capital, has
offices on the left of the great Imperial entrance, in order that state
business may be more easily transacted while Their Majesties are in
villeggiatura.
We alighted at the Foreign Office and were met by a number of officials
with their interpreters, coming out to receive us. After readjusting
ourselves in the waiting-room, we were met, when we came out, by the
Chief Eunuch of the Palace, who conducted us to the red-covered Palace
chairs, each carried by six men. They bore us past the Imperial gateway
(used only for Their Majesties), through a door of entrance at the
left, when we were within the sacred precincts of one of the residences
of the Sons of Heaven and within the walls of the favorite Palace of
the Empress Dowager! Before we could take in our surroundings, we had
been rapidly carried through various courts and gardens, and had come
at last to a larger, quadrangular court, filled with pots of rare
blooming plants and many beautiful growing shrubs. Here the bearers put
down our chairs; we descended and walked through the court, preceded
and followed by a number of eunuchs. The great plate-glass doors of
the Palace in front of us, blazing with the huge red character “Sho”
(longevity), were swung noiselessly back, and we were at last within
the Throne-room of Her Imperial Majesty the Empress Dowager of China!
A group of Princesses and Ladies-in-waiting stood to receive us. The
Ladies Yu-Keng, wife and daughter of a former Chinese Minister to
France, stood near the Princesses; and their perfect knowledge of both
Chinese and English rendered them delightful mediums of communication
between the Princesses and ourselves. Having known these ladies in
Paris, it was almost like seeing old friends. They seemed a link
between the real, every-day world and this Arabian Nights Palace into
which we had been wafted. As we arrived at a quarter-past ten, we were
in the Throne-room a few moments before Their Majesties appeared! Their
entrance was so simply made, so unobtrusive, that the first I knew of
it, noticing a sudden lull, I looked around and saw a charming little
lady, with a brilliant smile, greeting Mrs. Conger very cordially. One
of the Ladies Yu-Keng whispered, “Her Majesty”; but even after this it
seemed almost impossible for me to realize that this kindly looking
lady, so remarkably young-looking, with so winning a smile, could be
the so-called cruel, implacable tyrant, the redoubtable “old” Empress
Dowager, whose name had been on the lips of the world since 1900! A
young man, almost boyish in appearance, entered the Throne-room with
her: this was the Son of Heaven, the Emperor of China!
After greeting Mrs. Conger, the Empress Dowager looked toward me, and
I advanced with a reverence. She met me half-way and extended her hand
with another brilliant smile which quite won me, and I spontaneously
raised her dainty fingers to my lips. This was not in the protocol
program. It was an involuntary and surprised tribute on my part to her
unexpected charm. She then turned and with graceful gesture extended
her hand toward the Emperor and murmured “The Emperor,” and watched me
closely while I made His Majesty the formal reverence. He acknowledged
the salutation by a slight bow and a stereotyped smile, but I felt that
he, too, was closely scrutinizing me as his shrewd glance swept my
person.
After a few moments’ conversation, interpreted by the Ladies Yu-Keng,
Her Majesty ordered my painting things brought in, while she retired
to be dressed in the gown she had decided upon as appropriate for the
portrait.
After she had left the Throne-room, I tried to take in the conditions
of the place for painting. The hall was large and spacious, but the
light was false, the upper parts of the windows being covered with
paper shades. The only place in the hall where there was any sort of
light for painting was in front of the great plate-glass doors, and
this was but a small space in which to begin so large a picture. To
get a light upon the portrait, as well as upon the sitter, I should
be forced to place my canvas very near the throne where she was to
sit; and, with so large a portrait as I was to paint, this would be a
great disadvantage. When I thought I must paint here, and begin at once
upon the canvas which was to be the final picture, my heart fell! Her
Majesty wished, above all, to have a large portrait, and I was told
she would not understand my beginning on a small canvas or making any
preliminary studies--that if I did not begin on the big canvas at
once she would probably not give me any more sittings; in fact we had
that morning been told at the Foreign Office that Her Majesty was to
give me but two sittings, so there was no alternative! There could be
no preliminary poses, no choice from several sketches, and only a few
moments in which to choose the pose, which must be final--and I totally
ignorant of the possibilities of my sitter or her characteristics.
Luckily, I had but a few moments to consider all these adverse
circumstances, for Her Majesty soon returned! She had been clothed in
a gown of Imperial yellow, brocaded in the wistaria vine in realistic
colors and richly embroidered in pearls. It was made, in the graceful
Manchu fashion, in one piece, reaching from the neck to the floor;
fastened from the right shoulder to the hem with jade buttons. The
stuff of the gown was of a stiff, transparent silk, and was worn over a
softer under-gown of the same color and length. At the top button, from
the right shoulder, hung a string of eighteen enormous pearls separated
by flat pieces of brilliant, transparent green jade. From the same
button was suspended a large, carved pale ruby, which had yellow silk
tassels terminating in two immense pear-shaped pearls of rare beauty!
At each side, just under the arms, hung a pale-blue, embroidered silk
handkerchief and a scent-bag with long, black silk tassels. Around her
throat was a pale-blue, two-inch-wide cravat, embroidered in gold with
large pearls. This cravat had one end tucked into the opening on the
shoulder of her gown, and the other hanging. Her jet-black hair was
parted in the middle, carried smoothly over the temples, and brought to
the top of the head in a large, flat coil.
Formerly all Manchu ladies who have marvelous hair carried the hair
itself out from this coil over a golden, jade, or tortoise-shell
sword-like pin, into a large-winged bow. The Empress Dowager and the
Ladies of the Court have substituted satin instead of the hair, for
this wing-like construction, as being more practicable and less liable
to get out of order. So satin-like and glossy is their hair that it is
difficult to tell where it ends and the satin begins. A band of pearls,
with an immense “flaming pearl” in the center, encircled the coil.
On either side of the winged bow were bunches of natural flowers and
a profusion of jewels. From the right side of the head-dress hung a
tassel of eight strings of beautiful pearls reaching to the shoulder.
She wore bracelets and rings, and on each hand had two nail-protectors,
for she wore her nails so long the protectors were necessary adjuncts.
These nail-protectors were worn on the third and fourth fingers of
either hand; those on the left being of brilliant green jade, while
those on the right hand were of gold, set with rubies and pearls.
Her Majesty advanced with animation and asked me where the Double
Dragon Throne was to be placed. After the eunuchs had put it where I
said, she took her seat. Although not more than five feet tall, as
she wears the Manchu shoes with six-inch-high, stilt-like soles, to
avoid throwing the knees up higher than the lap she must sit upon
cushions, and when she is seated she looks a much larger woman than
when standing. She took a conventional pose and told me I might make
any suggestion I wished; but I had made up my mind that the pose and
surroundings must be as typical and characteristic as possible, and as
I had had no time to study my August Sitter I thought she would know
best as to her position and accessories.
It was nearing eleven!
Beginning anything is momentous. Every artist knows how the wonderful
possibilities of the bare canvas in its virgin purity standing before
him inspires him with almost a feeling of awe; how he hesitates about
beginning, so great is the responsibility. This bare canvas may become
a masterpiece, the full expression of his thought, or it may come forth
a maimed and distorted effort. To-day in these strange surroundings,
with these unusual and unfavorable conditions, my hesitancy was greater
than usual; for upon this beginning depended my being able to go on
with the portrait.
My hands trembled! The inscrutable eyes of the wonderful woman I was
to paint, fixed piercingly upon me, were also disconcerting; but just
then the eighty-five clocks in this particular Throne-room began to
chime, play airs, and strike the hour in eighty-five different ways.
The auspicious moment had come! I raised my charcoal and put the first
stroke upon the canvas of the first portrait that had ever been painted
of the Empress Dowager of Great China, the powerful “Tze-Shi.” The
Princesses, Ladies-in-waiting, the high eunuchs and attendants, stood
in breathless silence around, intently watching my every movement, for
everything touching Her Majesty is a solemnity.
For a few moments I heard the faintest ticking of the eighty-five
clocks as if they were great Cathedral bells clanging in my ears, and
my charcoal on the canvas sounded like some mighty saw drawn back and
forth. Then, happily, I became interested, and absolutely unconscious
of anything but my sitter and my work. I worked steadily on for
what seemed to be a very short time, when Her Majesty turned to the
interpreter and said “enough work had been done for that day”; the
conditions had been fulfilled and the picture begun at the auspicious
moment. She added that she knew I must be tired from our long drive out
from Peking, as well as from my work. She said I must rest and we must
partake of some refreshments. She then descended from the throne and
came over to look at the sketch.
I had blocked in the whole figure and had drawn the head with some
accuracy. So strong and impressive is her personality, I had been able
to get enough of her character into this rough whole to make it a sort
of likeness. After looking critically at it for a few moments, she
expressed herself as well pleased with what had been done, and paid
me some compliments on my talent as an artist! I felt instinctively,
however, this was due more to her natural courtesy--her desire to put
me at ease--than to an actual expression of her opinion. After she had
looked at the portrait, she called Mrs. Conger and the Princesses to
see what had been done, and it was discussed for a few moments. Then
she turned to me and said the portrait interested her greatly, that she
should like to see it go on. She asked me, looking straight into my
eyes the while, if I would care to remain at the Palace for a few days,
that she might give me sittings at her leisure.
This invitation filled me with joy. The reports I had heard of Her
Majesty’s hatred of the foreigner had been dispelled by this first
Audience and what I had seen there. I felt that the most consummate
actress could not so belie her personality, and I accepted, without a
moment’s hesitation, the invitation so graciously tendered. I thought
thus I should be able to get a good beginning for a satisfactory
likeness of this most remarkable and interesting woman. My sanguine
heart even leaped forward to the possibility of probably finishing
the portrait entirely at the Palace. Her Majesty seemed pleased at my
acceptance and said she would try to make me happy. She then withdrew
and we were served to luncheon.
The Empress Dowager always eats alone. When she has guests the Princess
Imperial, as the first of the Ladies of the Palace, acts as hostess.
The guests of honor are placed at her right and left. The Princesses,
Ladies Yu-Keng, Mrs. Conger, and myself formed the guests on this
occasion.
The table, decorated with flowers and fruit, groaned under the many
Chinese dishes placed thereon. Foreign dishes were served _à la Russe_.
The Chinese dishes, attractive to the eye as well as to the senses of
smell and taste, appealed to me at once; though I had been told one
must cultivate a taste for them. There were foreign table waters and
wines as well as Chinese drinks. We did full justice to the viands,
tasting everything and trying to use the chop-sticks, though knives and
forks were also placed for each of the guests.
After the repast Her Majesty and the young Empress, the first wife of
the Emperor Kwang-Hsu, came in. Her Majesty presented the young Empress
with the same grace with which she had indicated the Emperor at the
morning Audience, repeating her title, “The Empress,” as she did so.
Immediately behind the young Empress was the only secondary wife of the
Emperor, who was also presented by the Empress Dowager.
Then Her Majesty told Mrs. Conger she had her Players at the Theater
that day, and she invited us to come and hear them. The Empress Dowager
and Mrs. Conger led the way and I followed with the young Empress and
Princesses. We passed through several courts, all gay with flowers,
and finally reached the largest of all, the Court of the Theater. The
Theater projects into this rectangular court and consists of a covered
rostrum, open on three sides with doors at the back for the entrance
and exit of the actors. In front of the stage and across the open,
flower-filled court, with splendid bronze ornaments here and there, is
a building which might be called the Imperial loge. This is from sixty
to eighty feet long with a pillared stone verandah and occupies one
entire side of the court. Huge panes of plate-glass, the full height of
the building, enable Her Majesty and the Emperor to see, from within,
all that passes on the stage, and they can, of course, hear everything
perfectly. The buildings which form the other sides of this court,
those which run at right angles to the Imperial loge, are divided into
small stalls, each about the size of an ordinary opera box. There are
no chairs in these boxes, the occupants sit Turkish fashion upon the
floor, for no courtier can occupy a chair when in the presence of Their
Majesties. These side rooms are for the use of the high officials and
Princes who are sometimes invited by Their Majesties to be present at
the Imperial Theatrical Representations.
On my first day at Court there were no other invited guests; the
Players had been summoned in our honor. Her Majesty sat in a
yellow-covered chair on the red-pillared verandah of the Imperial
loge. The Emperor was seated on a yellow stool at her left, the place
of honor in China. Mrs. Conger and I were on Her Majesty’s right, the
young Empresses, Princesses, and Ladies-in-waiting standing around.
After seeing two or three acts of a play of which we understood little
more than the pantomime, but which was interesting from its very
novelty, Mrs. Conger arose to take leave of Their Majesties and the
Princesses. After this was accomplished, I accompanied her to one of
the outer courts and there told her good-by.
When she left, I was alone in the Palace, the first foreigner to be
domiciled in any residence of a Son of Heaven since the time of Marco
Polo, and the only foreigner who had ever been within the Ladies’
Precincts. I had a curious feeling of having been transported into a
strange world. A sense of loneliness crept over me, and I feared the
strangeness of my position might affect my work, and that, after all,
I should not accomplish what I had remained in the Palace to do. I
stood for a few minutes pondering my position, but was soon joined by
the Ladies Yu-Keng with a message from the Empress Dowager that I need
not return to the Theater, as she had gone to rest. She sent word that
she thought it would be well for me to go to my apartments and try to
sleep a little. She hoped I would be happy in the Palace and find the
pavilion she had set aside for me comfortable. She added that I must
not hesitate to order anything I wished and must make myself perfectly
at home.
The Summer Palace, like all Chinese palaces and temples, and even
the dwelling-houses of the rich, consists of a series of verandahed
buildings, built on stone foundations which rise about eight feet
from the ground, generally of one story, around the four sides
of rectangular or square courts, connected by open verandah-like
corridors. The apartments set aside for my private use, while in the
Precincts, were to the left of the Empress Dowager’s Throne-room and
quite near it--in order that I might go and come to my painting with
ease. These apartments occupied an entire pavilion. It was charming.
Its shining marble floors and beautifully carved partitions, its
painted walls and charming outlook over flowery courts, made it a
delightful spot. These pavilions at the Palace have movable partitions
and the rooms may be made as small as closets or as large as the whole
building.
My pavilion consisted of two sitting-rooms, a dining-room, and a
charming bedroom, separated from each other by screen-like walls of
beautifully carved open woodwork, with blue silk showing through the
interstices. In the larger spaces were artistic panels of flowers
painted on white silk, alternating with poems and quotations from the
classics, in the picturesque, ideographic writing of the Chinese. On
one of the solid walls was a large water-color painting on white silk,
representing a realistically painted peafowl in a flowery field; an
immense mirror formed the other solid wall. The plate-glass lower
windows had blue silken curtains, the upper windows of white paper were
rolled down, and the rich perfume of the flowers in the court came in.
In my honor, several foreign “objets de virtu” adorned the tables and
window-shelves. The bed, a couch built into an alcove, was covered with
blue satin cushions; and the windows were shaded from the outside by
blue silken awnings, which gave a soft subdued light to the room, that
made it very cool and restful-looking. I found the couch so inviting
I was soon really resting, and the events of the day passed before my
mental vision in kaleidoscopic array. Although the cushions of the
bed were harder than I had been accustomed to, and the dozen or more
eunuchs, who had been set aside for my service, were whispering just
outside my window to be ready for any call, I soon fell asleep from
sheer exhaustion and reaction from the unusual events of the day.
At five o’clock one of the Ladies Yu-Keng knocked at my door to tell
me the Empress Dowager was awake, and had asked that I come up to
the Throne-room as soon as I was ready. When we went up she called
me to her side and said she hoped I had rested well, that I found my
apartments comfortable; she repeated again the wish that I would be
happy with her. She said we would not paint any more for that day,
but on the morrow we would have another and longer sitting for the
portrait. She begged me to let her know if there was anything I cared
for particularly, that she might order it for me.
The Empress Dowager then dined alone, after which the young Empress
and the Princesses led me into the Throne-room, and we dined at Her
Majesty’s table, her seat being left vacant. The young Empress occupied
the place at the left of this vacant seat, and had me on her left.
When we had finished dinner, at which the young Empress and the Ladies
were most considerate of me, seeming to try to make me feel at ease,
we went up to take our leave of the Empress Dowager. After this was
accomplished we left the Throne-room, and made our adieus to the young
Empress and Princesses, and left the Imperial inclosure for the Palace
of the Emperor’s Father, which Her Majesty had set aside for the use of
the Ladies Yu-Keng and myself while I was at work on the portrait.
CHAPTER II
PERSONAL APPEARANCE OF HER MAJESTY--A CHINESE
REPAST--BOATING
I was eager to be off the next morning, to have the promised long
sitting from Her Majesty. The sitting of the day before had but whetted
my desire for further work on the portrait. When we arrived within the
Precincts we met the Empress Dowager and the Emperor coming out of the
Great Audience Hall from their joint Audience. When Her Majesty saw
us she stopped, as did the whole train of her attendant Ladies and
eunuchs. She called me up to her side, took my hand, and asked me how
I had rested and “whether I felt ready for work.” This question showed
her penetration, for she had seen the day before, from my eagerness and
the breathless haste with which I used every moment, that my work was
my first object, and she smiled when she put the query. I walked along
by her side from the Audience Hall to the Throne-room where I had begun
the portrait of the day before. When we reached the Throne-room she was
divested of her official vestments, took a cup of tea, and called one
of her tiring-women to bring her the dress and ornaments worn the day
before, and she prepared to sit for me the second time.
At this second sitting I looked at the Empress Dowager critically. I
feared that the agreeable impression I had formed, the day before, of
herself and her personal appearance had probably been too hasty, the
result of the unusual glamour in which I had begun the portrait; I
thought perhaps the Oriental environment had dazzled me and prevented
my seeing the Empress Dowager as she really was, and I looked forward
to a disillusion. As she sat there, upon the throne, before she was
quite ready for me to begin, before she had transfixed me with her
penetrating glance, before she knew I was looking at her, I scanned her
person and face with all the penetration I could bring to bear, and
this is what I saw:
A perfectly proportioned figure, with head well set upon her shoulders
and a fine presence; really beautiful hands, daintily small and
high-bred in shape; a symmetrical, well-formed head, with a good
development above the rather large ears; jet-black hair, smoothly
parted over a fine, broad brow; delicate, well-arched eyebrows;
brilliant, black eyes, set perfectly straight in the head; a high nose,
of the type the Chinese call “noble,” broad between the eyes and on
a line with the forehead; an upper lip of great firmness, a rather
large but beautiful mouth with mobile, red lips, which, when parted
over her firm white teeth, gave her smile a rare charm; a strong chin,
but not of exaggerated firmness and with no marks of obstinacy.[1]
Had I not known she was nearing her sixty-ninth year, I should have
thought her a well-preserved woman of forty. Being a widow, she used
no cosmetics. Her face had the natural glow of health, and one could
see that exquisite care and attention were bestowed upon everything
concerning her toilet. Personal neatness and an excellent taste in
the choice of becoming colors and ornaments enhanced this wonderfully
youthful appearance, and a look of keen interest in her surroundings
and remarkable intelligence crowned all these physical qualities and
made an unusually attractive personality.
[1]
In the firmament of the Son of Heaven
A brilliant new star has risen!--
Supple as the neck of the swan
Is the charm of her graceful form.
From the firm contour of charming chin
Springs the faultless oval of her fair face,
Crowned by the harmonious arch
Of a broad and noble brow.
The stately profile, chiseled clear,
Is dominated by the pure line of noble nose
Straight and slender and singularly mobile,
Sensitive to all the impressions of the soul.
Dewy lips with gracious curves
Are the portals of a dainty mouth
Where often blooms the sweet flower
Of a most alluring smile.
Her face is lit by black and sparkling eyes,
Whose flames, in hours of ease,
With oblique caress, envelop and thrill
That happy mortal allowed to see.
When stern circumstance demands,
Her graceful form an attitude of firmness takes,
The soft glow of her brilliant eyes
Grows penetrating and holds one with proud authority.
O beauty Supreme! O brilliant Star
Shining but for the Son of Heaven!
From thy glowing soul radiate
Love, daring, hope, intellect, ambition, power!
_From a Chinese poet--written when Her Majesty
was twenty-five years old._
When I was so far in my study of her appearance, the Empress Dowager
had finished speaking to her attendants, had settled herself to her
satisfaction on the throne, and she turned to me and asked “what part
of the portrait I was to work on.” I had been told she would be much
pleased if I would paint in the face. Thinking it was important to
please her at the outset, instead of perfecting and advancing the
drawing of the whole figure, as I should have done, I began on the
face; first correcting the drawing as far as possible and then putting
in a thin wash of color. During the sitting the Ladies, attendants,
and eunuchs were coming and going; she took tea and conversed, but she
seemed to understand that she must keep her head in the same position,
and she would look over apologetically at me when she moved it. I did
not wish her to be stiff, and preferred her moving a little to sitting
like a statue. Her Majesty, like all Oriental ladies, smokes, and
during the sitting the eunuchs or some of the Princesses brought her
either the graceful water-pipe, of which she would take a few whiffs,
or she would indulge in European cigarettes. She never allowed the
latter to touch her lips, but used a long cigarette-holder. She was
extremely graceful in her use of both the cigarette and water-pipe.
After little more than an hour’s work Her Majesty decided that enough
had been done for the morning and that we both needed rest! She came
over to look at the face, and it was easy to see that she liked it
much better now that the color was being put in. She stood behind me,
discussing it for some time, and said she wished it were possible for
some one else to pose for the face, so that she might sit and watch it
grow. She thought it very wonderful that on the flat canvas the relief
of the face could be represented. She then turned to me and said she
knew I must be tired both mentally and bodily, as I stand to my work,
advised me to go to my pavilion, have lunch, and rest, and added that
she would try to give me another sitting in the afternoon before we
went out for some sort of promenade.
I returned to my pavilion with the Ladies Yu-Keng, whom Her Majesty had
appointed to keep me company for the meals in my own quarters. There
was a young Manchu girl at Court whose father had been an attaché at
Berlin, who spoke German and English; she, also, had been ordered by
Her Majesty to take her meals with us, so that I might have pleasant
company and be able to converse in my own language and have proper
relaxation during my meals. Besides, I did not know enough Chinese to
direct the servants or make my wants known, and these Ladies were Her
Majesty’s interpreters.
The meals at the Palace were all of the most lavish description,
twenty or thirty dishes being placed upon the table at the beginning
of the meal, while macaroni, rice, and a few other things were served
from a side table. The Chinese are passed masters in the culinary
art, and the delicacies seen at good Chinese tables are fit for a
repast of Lucullus. Sharks’ fins, deers’ sinews, birds’ tongues,
rare fish, bird’s-nest soups, fish brains, shrimps’ eggs, and many
other extraordinary dishes make up the every-day menu. No one can
cook goose, duck, and in fact all fowls and game, to such perfection
as the Chinese. Their soups are of a delicacy and flavor quite
unequaled. Their breads and cakes seem to the foreigner, at first, the
least delectable of their viands; their bread particularly, which is
steamed instead of baked, is not tempting; but when you get over or
rather through the raw-looking outside, with its five cochineal spots
surmounting its pyramidal form, it is very sweet and wholesome. It is
made of gray flour, as the Chinese do not believe in whitening the
flour as we do. They make delicious creams, as to consistency; and
these and their sweets generally are much esteemed by the foreigners.
At the Palace the food is served in tall dishes of painted Chinese
porcelain, and everything is placed upon the table at once--soups,
roast, sweets, all except the rice and macaroni. These latter dishes
the Chinese eat boiling hot, and they are kept on chafing-dishes
until served. Each person has a bowl, a small saucer, and a pair of
chop-sticks. A small square of very soft cloth is used as a napkin.
There is never any salt upon the table. The small saucer at the side
of each guest contains a very salty sauce; if extra salt is needed,
this sauce is used. The Chinese consider powdered salt too coarse for
seasoning food after it is cooked!
They rarely drink at meals, and when they do, only tiny cups, about the
size of a liqueur-glass, of heated wine. This is poured out of silver
teapots, and is kept hot by being placed in receptacles containing
boiling water. Their wines are more like liqueurs than ours; they
are generally distilled with flowers and herbs and have a delightful
“bouquet.” Some of these wines have most poetic names, such as “Dew
from the Early Morning Rose,” and “Drops from the Hands of Buddha.” The
Chinese never drink cold water, nor do they take tea at meals. For me,
being a foreigner, champagne was always provided, as well as claret or
Burgundy. The Chinese do not drink coffee. After leaving the table,
they take tea without milk or sugar.
The middle of the day is set aside for the siesta, and during the heat
of the summer, every one goes to her apartments for two hours after
luncheon. As I found the Chinese bed-cushions too hard to rest well
upon, I took to my pavilion a foreign, eiderdown cushion, which I used
for several days, until one day, on going to my room, I found two
lovely new cushions with pale-blue silk, removable slips. On touching
them, I found them to be soft and deliciously cool and fragrant as
well. They were made of tea-leaves and had been sent as a present from
the Empress Dowager. I found them a great improvement over eiderdown or
feather cushions, especially for summer use. Though I did not care for
this long midday rest, I was forced to go to my room and remain there,
as there was nothing else to do.
When Her Majesty awakes, the news flashes like an electric spark
through all the Precincts and over the whole inclosure, and every one
is on the “qui vive” in a moment. The young Empress and the Princesses
go up to Her Majesty’s Throne-room to be present at her “lever.” When
her afternoon toilet is made, the Empress Dowager comes out of her
private apartments into the Throne-room and generally partakes of some
light refreshment, or drinks a cup of tea or some fruit juice.
She gave me a short sitting after her nap this second day and then
ordered the boats for a row on the lakes. Attended by the young Empress
and Princesses, and with the usual train of attendants and eunuchs,
we went out into the court of the Throne-room, passed through a small
pavilion opening directly upon the beautiful white marble terrace,
with its quaintly carved marble balustrade, which stretches all along
the southern side of the lake. Her Majesty’s own barge lay at the foot
of the marble steps and numbers of other barges and boats lay around,
forming quite a little fleet. She descended the steps and entered the
barge. The young Empress, Princesses, and Ladies followed. Her Majesty
sat in the yellow, throne-like chair in the middle of the raised
platform of the barge. The young Empress, Princesses, and Ladies took
their places as decreed by centuries-old tradition. They sat upon
cushions placed upon the carpeted floor of the raised platform of the
barge.
[Illustration: THE EMPRESS AND LADIES OF THE COURT
IN THE IMPERIAL BARGE
On the Lake of the Summer Palace]
When I stepped on, Her Majesty motioned me to come near her and sit
at her right. The young Empress was on her left. Several of the high
eunuchs stood at the back of the Empress Dowager’s chair with her
extra wraps, bonbons, cigarettes, water-pipes, etc. There were two
rowers on the barge who stood with their long oars to guide it, for it
was attached by great yellow ropes to two boats, manned by twenty-four
rowers each, and was towed along by them. Only the eunuchs of the
highest rank, Her Majesty’s personal attendants, went on the barge with
her, and the two boatmen simply guided it. All the Palace boatmen stand
to their oars, for they cannot sit in the presence of Her Majesty,
even though not upon the Imperial barge. And it is only on the barge
that the Empress and Ladies sit in the presence of the Empress Dowager
without being invited by her to do so.
A number of flat boats followed the Imperial barge with the army of
eunuchs that go to make up the train of Their Majesties when they move
about the Palace or grounds. One boat carried portable stoves and
all the necessary arrangements for making tea, as this is taken so
frequently by Her Majesty and the Ladies, it may be called for at any
time.
We were rowed across the lake to one of the islands; and when we looked
back at the Palaces, the memorial arches, the temple-crowned hills, the
curious camel-back bridges, and the beautiful white marble terraces
jutting out into the lake with its islands, the scene was indeed
fairy-like. We were then rowed into a field of beautiful lotus flowers,
and Her Majesty ordered some pulled by the eunuchs to be given to the
Ladies. She seemed delighted at my sincere admiration of this beautiful
water-plant, so dear to the Chinese. After an hour on the lake, we
were rowed back to our starting-point and disembarked. This time the
Princesses and Ladies left the barge first and stood to receive the
Empress Dowager when she landed. When she had dined she asked us to
dine with the young Empress and Ladies at her table in her Throne-room,
after which we made our adieus and returned to our own Palace, without
the Precincts.
CHAPTER III
THE PALACE OF THE EMPEROR’S FATHER
(PRINCE CH’UN, THE SEVENTH PRINCE)
The Palace of the Emperor’s Father, which the Empress Dowager had set
aside for me to live in while I was at work on her portrait, was a
splendid demesne, with a noble park and spacious buildings. It had been
much injured by the foreign troops in 1900 and had been unoccupied
since, until Her Majesty decided it would be a suitable dwelling-place
for her “Portrait Painter.” She had it hastily restored and refurnished
for our occupation, but many of the pavilions and summer-houses in the
grounds were in ruins, and the stables but partly rebuilt. Except the
grounds immediately surrounding the buildings in which the Yu-Kengs
and I lived, which were well kept and garnished, the greater part of
the extensive park was in a fascinating state of natural wildness. The
Palace, like all others in China, consisted of a network of verandahed
pavilions built around spacious courts. There was a small Theater with
the Prince’s loge and stalls for his guests, and numerous tea and
summer houses were scattered over different parts of the grounds.
I selected, as my abiding-place, a charming group of buildings in a
walled-in garden, fronting on a lotus-covered lake, with a winding
stream at the back, spanned by a picturesque bridge. The principal
pavilion of this group had a lofty central hall, out of which opened,
on one side, bedrooms and dressing-rooms, and on the other dining-room
and dependencies. Great doors in the center of the hall, which I had
decided to use as my living-room, opened on a wide verandah which ran
the whole length of the building. Marble steps led from this into a
court filled with flowering shrubs. Two sides of the charming court had
smaller pavilions similar to the central hall, and opposite this latter
was a quaint stone wall, the upper part of tiled lattice-work, with
curiously shaped openings at irregular intervals. In the center of this
wall, massive wooden doors opened out on a beautiful terrace, shaded
by fine old elms, over the lake. It was a charming dwelling-place,
and this group of buildings soon came to be known as the “Ker-Gunia
Fu,” “Ker-Gunia” being “Miss Carl” rendered into Chinese, and “Fu”
meaning “Palace,” for the Chinese are very fond of nicknames. I learned
later that these pavilions had been the dwelling-place of the Seventh
Prince’s son, the present Emperor Kwang-Hsu, after he had been chosen
as Heir to the Throne and until he went to live regularly at the
Imperial Palace.
As Her Majesty gave me my morning sittings after the Audience was
finished (which lasted from eight A.M. to ten or eleven), I had
plenty of time, after my cup of tea, to explore the grounds of our
Palace, and I discovered new beauties each day. The Park was inclosed
by high walls, for the Chinese are jealous of their privacy. Parts of
the grounds were gently undulating, and all the eminences, where views
could be had, were surmounted by charming summer-houses and belvederes.
In one of these, where I loved to go in the early morning to refresh
myself by the contemplation of the calm and peaceful lake beneath,
and drink in the faint perfume of the stately lotus flowers, which
grew in rich profusion on its bosom, I found an inscription on a large
flat stone at the left of the entrance. I had seen enough of Chinese
characters to know the inscription looked like a “poem.” The Chinese
poem is rarely more than a phrase: the expression, in elegant and
concise form, of some dainty fancy, some bit of philosophy, and is more
properly a “verse” than a poem.
I found, later, the inscription on the stone at the entrance of the
summer-house was really a “poem,” and had been written by no less a
personage than the Seventh Prince himself! This had been his favorite
place for rest and contemplation, and one day, as he reclined upon a
cushion at the entrance, he had written this poem on the flat stone
which lay conveniently near. The Chinese write with a brush well
charged with liquid India ink, and their writing accommodates itself
to almost any surface. Their characters, one for each word, take up
less space than our combination of letters, and are infinitely more
picturesque! Chinese gentlemen, or some attendant, generally carry
about with them tablets of writing-ink and a brush, and they thus have
the means at hand for jotting down a thought as it comes to them.
This little poem had been written with a brush, and some of the
Prince’s followers had afterward cut the characters in the stone,
so that it became a permanent record of a fleeting thought. It had
evidently been inspired by the lotus flowers growing beneath; so
gloriously beautiful to-day, and to-morrow shorn of their splendor. It
was a plaint on the transience of worldly glory--
... Which to-day, like the lotus fair,
Lifts its head in pride;
But to-morrow lies low,
Bathed in the stagnant waters of oblivion.
One day I came upon a number of small tombstones, in a beautiful
shady corner, near the stables. I learned that these marked the last
resting-places of the Prince’s favorite dogs and horses. Each stone had
an inscription with the name, and extolled the virtues of the favorite,
whose bones lay beneath it. The Prince was a great lover of animals,
and is said to have had the best kennels and stables of any of the
Imperial Princes.
In my morning rambles, I also often came upon stones engraved with
some character or a phrase from the classics. The ideographic Chinese
characters, always picturesque, are doubly so when deeply engraved,
or standing out in high relief on some rugged stone in a charming
spot in the landscape. The picturesque form of the characters is
sometimes heightened by being painted in vermilion or gilded; and the
glowing color makes a delightful contrast with the cool gray of the
stone. Even though I could not decipher the characters, nor read the
phrases, I loved to come upon them in my morning walks. How much more
interesting they must have been to the scholarly Chinese who understood
them! How fine, when out for rest and contemplation, to come upon some
thought of their great Sages cut in the living rock, or to see some
character meaning “Peace” or “Prosperity” standing out, in bold relief
or glowing color, from some shady nook, as if to bless him!
From another of the summer-houses in the Park I could see the
stone-paved highway leading from the Capital to the Summer Palace.
During Their Majesties’ residence at the Summer Palace, this is a
busy thoroughfare. When I did not care for peaceful contemplation
or quiet rambles over the grounds, I would go to this summer-house,
whence I could see the carts and “chairs” of the officials, with their
outriders, going to and from the Palace; messengers galloping past,
bearing despatches; all sorts of itinerant venders, with their wares;
heavily laden wagons, with small yellow banners flying, which showed
they carried supplies to the Palace. Sometimes a group of horsemen
would dash gaily past, the retainers of some splendidly attired
young Prince, who rode in their midst on a red-saddled, handsomely
caparisoned horse with silver trappings. Anon, the cumbersome, red,
fringe-bedecked cart of some Princess, preceded and followed by from
fifteen to thirty outriders, according to her rank in the Princely
hierarchy, the black carts of her women bringing up the rear.
One can tell the rank of the Chinese from the outsides of their
chairs or carts. Only a reigning Emperor and Empress can go abroad in
yellow chairs. The Emperor’s secondary wives ride in orange-colored
chairs. The relicts of an Emperor, first or secondary, go in yellow or
orange-colored carts. Princesses go abroad in red carts. Mandarins of
the first and second degrees ride in green chairs; those of the third
and fourth in blue chairs; and there is still another shape and style
of chair for the ordinary individual, who may prefer a chair to a cart.
The rank and file go in carts. These carts, peculiar to Peking, curious
two-wheeled vehicles with heavy, iron-studded wheels, are uniformly
covered in blue cloth. The wealth and standing of their occupants are
discernible from the quality of the cloth and its trimmings, and the
richness of the harness and trappings of the mule which is always used
in the Peking carts. The mule in North China is a magnificent animal,
much finer than the Chinese horse, which is only a pony.
The Seventh Prince (Prince Ch’un) must have been a most interesting
personality. He was brother to the Emperor Hsien-Feng, the husband of
the present Empress Dowager; and his wife, the mother of the present
Emperor, was Her Majesty’s sister. This Prince was a valued friend of
the two Empresses, the present Empress Dowager and She of the Eastern
Palace, while they were Co-Regents during the minority of the late
and a part of that of the present Emperor, and he remained, up to the
time of his death, one of the most trusted advisers of the Regency.
He was recognized by foreigners, as well as by the Chinese, to be an
enlightened Prince as well as a man of fine character. The esteem
in which he was held may have had something to do with the choice of
his second son as the Successor of the late Emperor Tung-Chih, who
died childless. The Chinese Emperors and their Council may choose the
Successor to the Throne. If there be but one son, he is chosen as the
next Heir; if there be a number, a selection may be made from them of
the one seeming to be most suited for the exalted position. If there be
no sons, the Successor is chosen from the nephews without reference to
their age or to their being the sons of an elder or younger brother.
The present Emperor’s Father, Prince Ch’un, was the seventh brother of
the Emperor Hsien-Feng, hence his Chinese name of “Seventh Prince.”
CHAPTER IV
HER MAJESTY’S THRONE-ROOM--SOME PERSONAL
CHARACTERISTICS
We arrived at the Palace in good time the next morning, as Her Majesty
and suite were coming out of the Great Audience Hall. She greeted us
with a charming smile and made her usual inquiry for my health. We
joined her suite and went along to the Throne-room where the portrait
had been begun. This Throne-room is a very spacious and lofty hall;
one side of the great room is almost entirely of glass, with only the
wooden columns that support the roof between the windows--the lower
half of plate-glass, the upper of lattice-work with Corean paper as
shades. In the center of this side of windows is a huge plate-glass
door, reaching from ceiling to floor. The other three sides of the
hall, which separate it from the apartments at the side and back,
are of the same beautiful, open woodwork carving I have mentioned
as serving as partitions in my pavilion. Those in Her Majesty’s
Throne-room were, however, of greater delicacy of workmanship and were
more beautiful as to the painted panels. The poems, written on white
silk, and alternating with the painted panels, were from Her Majesty’s
favorite authors, original poems written by an Emperor or Empress, or
laudatory verses dedicated to Her Majesty. There were satin portières
at the doorways, and blue silk curtains over the plate-glass windows.
Blue, being the Empress Dowager’s favorite color, is used for all the
hangings in the Palaces which are not intended for official purposes;
where yellow is the color.
On the right of the Throne-room is a small chapel with an altar, over
which presides a figure of the contemplative Buddha seated on the
lotus. This altar was always sweet with offerings of fresh flowers and
fruit. In front of the figure of Buddha stood the incense-burner, with
perfumes constantly burning. On the left of the Throne-room are Her
Majesty’s sleeping apartments, and behind the open-work partition at
the back of the hall is a large ante-chamber where the attendants and
Ladies await their turn to make their entrance into the Throne-room. In
the rear of the hall is a magnificent five-leaved screen of teakwood,
inlaid with lapis lazuli, chalcedony, and many other semi-precious
stones. In front of this screen, on a dais, stood an immense,
couch-like throne, with a large footstool. These couch-like thrones,
where Their Celestial Majesties may recline when holding Audiences, are
not at all favored by the Empress Dowager, who always sits extremely
erect, without leaning upon a cushion or the back of the throne. Except
in the Great Audience Hall, where she uses the traditional throne of
state of the Dynasty, she prefers a much lighter and quite modern one,
which she has introduced into the Palaces. The thrones favored by Her
Majesty are of open carved teakwood, circular in form, with cushions
of Imperial yellow. One of these stood in the front part of this hall,
on which she sat for the portrait.
The great throne, which I have described above, was hence relegated to
the back of the Throne-room and kept for the sake of tradition, but
never used by Her Majesty. On either side of it stood two immense,
processional fans of peafowl feathers, with ebony handles placed in
magnificent cloisonné supports. Superb cloisonné vases stood at either
side of these ceremonial fans; and huge bowls of rare old porcelain
held pyramids of fruits--apples, sweet-smelling quince, and the highly
perfumed “Buddha’s hand.”
And there were flowers everywhere! It was the season of the year when
bloomed a sort of orchid, of delicious fragrance, of which Her Majesty
is very fond. These were growing in rare porcelain jardinières, placed
at intervals around the hall. There were also vases of lotus flowers
and bowls of lilies. The combined odors of all these fruits and flowers
gave a subtle, composite perfume quite indescribable and delightful,
but not at all overpowering, for the Empress Dowager is so fond of
fresh air that there are always windows open in the Palace, even in the
coldest weather.
Aside from the fruits and flowers, clocks were the dominant feature
of this Throne-room, as well as of every other one I ever went into
in any of the Chinese Palaces. The love of the Chinese for clocks
and timepieces is well known, and there are thousands in each of
the Palaces I visited. In this Throne-room there were, as I have
said before, eighty-five: magnificent jeweled and gold clocks, and
specimens of all the varieties that were ever made; some with chimes;
some with crowing cocks and singing-birds; some with running water;
some with musical-box attachments, and others with processions of
figures that came out at every hour and moved around the dial; some
rare works of art and some commonplace examples of the clockmaker’s
trade. There are many foreign ornaments in the Palace, but, aside
from the clocks and watches, Her Majesty the Empress Dowager does not
seem to care much for European “objets de virtu.” Unfortunately, what
they have at the Palaces, aside from a few presents from European
sovereigns, are generally very poor specimens of European art, and
compare but lamentably with the beautiful Chinese curios. They are
principally cheap modern stuff, bought by the Chinese nobles when
abroad and sent as presents to Their Majesties. These presents, when
they are accepted, are placed in apartments of the Palace not in
general use.
When Her Majesty had her official garments removed (she always changed
her dress after the morning Audience), and when the portrait had been
placed upon the easel, she came over to look at it. After studying it
for some time, she concluded that the nail-protectors on both hands
were not artistic, and that she would have the gold ones (set with
pearls and rubies) taken off, and show the uncovered nails on the
right hand. I was delighted at this decision, for the nail-protectors
destroyed the symmetry of the hand and hid the beautiful tips of her
fingers. I had, of course, not presumed to make any suggestions as to
her costume or ornaments. As the nail-shields are characteristic of the
high-class Chinese ladies, it was well to have them on one hand.
After this change had been decided upon, she went over to a great
vase, standing near, and took from it a lotus flower, held it up, in
a charmingly graceful way, and asked me if that would not be pretty
in the portrait, adding that the lotus was one of her attributes. As
the color did not harmonize with the general scheme, I did not care
for this suggestion, but temporized by saying “I was not ready to put
it in then.” After a little more than an hour’s work, with the usual
interruptions, she decided that enough had been done for that morning.
When I suggested that I might work even after Her Majesty was tired,
she said “No,” that if she were tired sitting still, I could not fail
to be more so doing the work and standing as I did. She said there was
no hurry, that I had plenty of time to finish the picture, and must not
run the risk of making myself ill.
After a short sitting in the afternoon Her Majesty ordered the boats,
and we went out to the marble terrace, beneath which lay moored the
Palace fleet, manned by blue-gowned oarsmen. We again took the Imperial
barge, the Empress Dowager in the center, on her yellow chair, the
young Empress and Princesses sitting around, Turkish fashion, on
cushions. The barge, drawn along by the two great boats, glided as
gently as a swan over the still waters of the lake. The air was soft
and balmy. Two of the eunuchs were ordered to sing, and the minor
chords of a curious air mingled their rhythm with the soft swish of
the water. Beyond us lay the hills, the beautiful Western Hills,
unchanging in form, but ever varying in color--sometimes blurred and
gray, or a soft, warm violet; again a clear, deep blue, as if hewn out
of lapis lazuli, and now and then, as a cloud passed over the sun, dark
and threatening almost. I drank in deep breaths of delight!
The quaint picturesqueness of the marble-terraced banks, the
summer-houses, the green and yellow-tiled roofs, the vermilion walls
and lacquered columns of the buildings, the curious fleet silently
moving along, the eunuchs singing, the Empress Dowager sitting in
state surrounded by her Ladies, the camel-back bridges--everything was
strange, and, stranger still, I formed a part of this curious pageant!
Only the beautiful hills beyond seemed familiar.
After drifting about for some time, we landed and went into the
orchards and among the apple trees. The apple is a favorite fruit of
the Chinese, and esteemed as much for its fragrance as its taste. It
is emblematic of Peace and Prosperity, and is always placed among the
offerings to Buddha, hence has also a sacred quality; but, though
beautiful in form and color, the Chinese apple has very little taste,
and the least savor of any of their fruits.
Her Majesty walked about among the trees and ordered several apples
gathered, which she ate with greater relish than I could, for she
graciously offered me one, and then told me to pull some for myself. A
eunuch brought a basket and took them as I gathered them, and she told
me to have them taken to my own apartments.
From the orchard she continued her walk to the flower gardens, where
she picked some small blooms and placed them behind her ears, Spanish
fashion, telling the Ladies to do likewise, and herself choosing some
for me and placing them over my ears. I knew these little marks of
favor she showed me were not due so much to regard for me as to her
desire to make the “stranger” feel at home. She hoped by showing me
these special favors to insure a similar treatment of me by the Ladies
and eunuchs. I have already alluded to Her Majesty’s love of flowers.
This was the one of her characteristics which seemed most incompatible
with the idea I had formed of her from what I had heard, and her love
of flowers and all nature caused me first to change that idea. It
seemed to me no one could love flowers and nature as she did and be the
woman she had been painted.
She had flowers always about her. Her private apartments, her
Throne-rooms, her loge at the Theater, even the Great Audience Hall
where she only went to transact affairs of state and hold official
Audiences, all were decorated with a profusion of flowers, cut and
growing--never, though, of but one kind at a time. She wears natural
flowers in her coiffure always, winter and summer, and however careworn
or harassed she might be, she seemed to find solace in flowers! She
would hold a flower to her face, drink in its fragrance and caress it
as if it were a sentient thing. She would go herself among the flowers
that filled her rooms, and place, with lingering touch, some fair bloom
in a better light or turn a jardinière so that the growing plant might
have a more favorable position.
[Illustration: PRINCESSES OF THE COURT
THE PRINCESS IMPERIAL, FIRST LADY OF THE COURT
A PRINCESS IN WINTER COSTUME--A PRINCESS IN SUMMER COSTUME]
The Chinese do not place certain cut flowers in water, but keep them
dry in bowls or vases, to get their full fragrance. The Empress Dowager
had some quaint conceits about the arrangements of these. She would
have the corollas of the lily bloom or the fragrant jasmine placed in
shallow bowls in curious, star-like designs, beautiful to look at, as
well as most fragrant.
Her passion for flowers being generally known among the courtiers,
Princes, and high officials, they send daily offerings to the Palace of
all that is rare and choice in the way of plants and flowers, for they
know this is one present Her Majesty will always accept and appreciate.
There are some quaint customs in the Palace, as to flowers and fruits
that grow within the Precincts. Though the Princesses and Ladies have
the freedom of the gardens and may pull as many flowers and cull as
many fruits as they wish, it is not etiquette for them to gather the
smallest flower or to touch a fruit when in the presence of the Empress
Dowager, unless they are especially told to do so. When Her Majesty
tells them to pull a flower or fruit, the permission is gratefully
accepted and that special flower or fruit religiously kept. The first
fruits of every tree and vegetable, the first flowers of every plant
and growing shrub in the Palace grounds, are considered sacred to Their
Majesties, and no Princess, attendant, or eunuch would touch a flower
or fruit until the Empress Dowager had been presented with the first
of them. All these, apparently trivial, marks of respect to the Sacred
Persons of Their Majesties were religiously observed!
CHAPTER V
THE YOUNG EMPRESS AND LADIES OF THE COURT
The young Empress, the first Lady of the Court after Her Majesty the
Empress Dowager, was, to me, a charming character. She is the daughter
of the Duke Chow, General of one of the Manchu Banner Corps and a
brother of the reigning Empress Dowager. She is thus a first cousin
of the Emperor, and is his senior by three years. Her mother, a lady
of high birth, ancient lineage, and great distinction, brought her up
with much care. She also had the advantage of being a great deal at the
Court with her august Aunt, and is highly accomplished, according to
Chinese standards. She was affianced at an early age to the Emperor,
but, as the custom is, their marriage did not take place for several
years later. It was celebrated with great pomp at the Winter Palace in
February, 1889, the week before the young Emperor himself took in hand
the reins of Government, held, up to that time, by the Empress Dowager,
and became Emperor in reality.
The young Empress has the erect carriage and light, swift walk of Her
Majesty the Empress Dowager. She is small, not quite five feet tall,
with exquisitely dainty hands and feet, of most patrician type. She
has a narrow, high-bred face, with a thin, high nose. Her eyes are more
of the Chinese type, as we conceive it, than either the Emperor’s or
Empress Dowager’s. Her chin is long and of the type generally called
strong. Her mouth is large and extremely sensitive. Her eyes have so
kindly a look, her face shines with so sweet an expression, criticism
is disarmed and she seems beautiful. She has a sweet dignity, charming
manners, and a lovable nature, but there is sometimes a look in her
eyes of patient resignation that is almost pathetic. I should not say
she possessed any great executive ability, though full of tact, but
while Her Majesty the Empress Dowager was in retirement and she was the
first Lady at Court, she is said to have shown great capability in her
conduct of affairs. Her dignity, perfect breeding, and natural kindness
of heart would insure this.
The next Lady, after the young Empress, is the only secondary wife
of the Emperor. She is said to have been extremely beautiful at the
time she was chosen as his second wife by the Empress Dowager. She
belongs to an excellent family, being the daughter of a Viceroy, but
though only twenty-eight years old when I knew her, she was already
very stout, and there were few remains visible of great beauty. She
has very large, full-orbed, brown eyes, and still has a beautifully
clear complexion, but her nose is flat, her mouth large and weak; the
contour of her face is marred by layers of flesh, her forehead does
not indicate much intelligence, and she has very little distinction
in appearance. She seems good-natured, but is neither very clever
nor tactful. She is not a favorite among the Ladies generally, and
is not nearly so interesting, in any way, as the young Empress. She
is, however, treated with the most kindly consideration by the young
Empress and has precedence over all the other Ladies, and her position
at Court is second only to that of the young Empress. Whenever I
mention the young Empress, it may be understood that the secondary wife
followed immediately after her, coming before the Princesses or any
other of the Ladies forming the Court of Her Majesty. I have often seen
allusions made to the “Imperial Harem”; there is no such thing as an
Imperial Harem at the Court of His Majesty the Emperor Kwang-Hsu. He
has only these two wives.
Her Majesty’s Ladies-in-waiting are principally Princesses of the Blood
or the widows of Imperial Princes. Her first Lady, Sih-Gerga (Fourth
Princess), daughter of Prince Ching, the Prime Minister, is a widow
of twenty-four. She married, at the age of sixteen, a son of a high
Manchu official, Viceroy of Tientsin, and was left a widow a few months
later. She is a beautiful young woman, with face a perfect oval, large
brown eyes, and a clear, magnolia-leaf complexion of exquisite texture.
She would be called beautiful, judged by any standard. She has no
children of her own, but, like most ladies of position who are widows
or childless, has an adopted son. Adopted children in China are much
closer relationships than is a child, by adoption, with us. In many
instances their own parents are still living when they are adopted,
and even these parents speak of their child as the son of the adopted
mother or parents, and bow to her wishes in bringing up the child.
[Illustration: THE YOUNG EMPRESS YE-HO-NA-LAH
First Wife of the Emperor of China]
The next two Ladies of the Court are two Duchesses--also widows. Widows
in China never remarry, or if they do, they lose caste and reputation.
They are not sacrificed on the funeral pyres of their departed
husbands, as in India; but a voluntary suicide on the part of a widow
in China is still looked upon as a noble act. A widow who remains
faithful to the memory of her husband during a long life is rewarded
by the greatest respect and consideration during her life, and honored
after death.
If a girl prefers to remain unmarried, if a widow remains faithful
to the memory of her husband, she is honored after her death with
much pomp and ceremony! And great memorial arches are erected in her
memory! All over China, one is constantly coming upon these arches to
widows and virgins. If the family is not sufficiently wealthy to raise
these monuments themselves, public subscriptions are taken, all the
relatives contribute, and often the inhabitants of the village or the
country where the heroine lived beg to be allowed to have their part in
raising a monument to her memory. These arches, of stone or wood, are
elaborately carved, sometimes with remarkable sculptures of fabulous
animals, flowers, and thousands of birds of every kind (these latter
showing the immortality the soul has acquired). Across the entablature
of the arch, cut deep into the stone or wood, and gilded or painted in
glowing vermilion, shines the name of the virgin or widow to whom it is
erected, and on the sides of the arch is inscribed an account of her
virtuous acts.
A girl is sometimes affianced at the early age of from six to eight
years, and the affianced is from that time spoken of as her husband.
Should he die before they marry, which is never earlier than sixteen
for the bride, she is considered a “widow,” and must henceforth live
the life of a recluse. She can never marry any one else. She may adopt
a son, who will call her “mother”; but she may never hope for the joys
of family life of her own, without calling down upon her head the
obloquy of all whose respect she desires. She wears deep mourning the
first three years after his death, and then second mourning; and she
can never again put on the festive red, joyous green, or any other
color except blue or violet--second mourning.
The Northern Chinese and the Manchu ladies use a great deal of paint
and powder on their faces; but a widow can never add one artificial
iota to the rose of her cheek, to the cherry of her lips, or the lily
of her brow. She can nevermore use paint or powder. In most instances
the Chinese ladies are but the prettier for this, for they have
beautiful skins, and the use of powder and paint is carried to such an
excess as to be quite unnatural.
There are only eight of Her Majesty’s Ladies who live always in the
Palace, but this number is increased about four times on festive
occasions. The Princess Imperial, the Empress Dowager’s adopted
daughter, is the first of the Princesses at Court, and, when she comes
to the Palace, ranks next to the Empress and the secondary wife of the
Emperor.
One evening, at dinner, in the Throne-room, Sih-Gerga undertook to tell
me the relationships of the different Princesses to each other and to
the young Empress. Incidentally, this made them related to the Emperor
and the Empress Dowager, but neither of Their Majesties’ names was
mentioned in this connection, for such would have been a great piece
of presumption, amounting almost to sacrilege. They might be related,
but no Princess would dare mention such a thing. It would be against
all the laws of Chinese proprieties. I found, after this explanation
of Sih-Gerga’s, that the Ladies were all related by consanguinity or
marriage to each other and to the young Empress.
There are a number of tiring-women and maids in the Palace who are
called by outsiders “slaves”; but they are not slaves, or, if they
are so, it is but for a time, a space of ten years. Every spring, the
daughters of the lowest of the Manchu families, the Seventh and Eighth
Banners, are brought into the Palace to be chosen from, by the Empress
and Empress Dowager, for maids and tiring-women. One day, on going to
the Palace, I saw a number of ordinary carts near one of the Postern
Gates, and I learned they had brought crowds of these girls of the
families of the Eighth Banner. They are first passed in review by the
Head Eunuch, and he selects from them, those he thinks may please Her
Majesty. These pass before her, and she tells the Head Eunuch which
ones are to remain in the Palace. They are brought to the Palace from
the ages of ten to sixteen years. They remain in service for ten years,
after which time they are allowed to return to their families; and in
case they have been satisfactory and pleased Their Majesties, they
are given a comfortable dot and are provided with a handsome marriage
outfit, which causes them to make much better marriages than they would
otherwise do. During their so-called ten years’ slavery in the Palace,
they live upon the fat of the land, have beautiful clothes and many
advantages. They wear, while in Her Majesty’s service, blue gowns,
with their hair plainly parted at the side and braided in a single
long braid (tied with red silk cords), which hangs down the back. They
wear bunches of flowers over each ear. The young Empress and secondary
wife, as well as each of the Princesses, have their own maids and
tiring-women, who remain in the private quarters of these Ladies.
Besides these young maids, there are in the Palace a number of old
women, servants of Her Majesty, who have been married and have
children; these overlook the younger women, direct the work of the
lower eunuchs, and are in a position somewhat similar to housekeepers
with us. Among these is a Chinese woman who nursed Her Majesty through
a long illness, about twenty-five years since, and saved her life by
giving her mother’s milk to drink. Her Majesty, who never forgets a
favor, has always kept this woman in the Palace. Being a Chinese, she
had bound feet. Her Majesty, who cannot bear to see them even, had her
feet unbound and carefully treated, until now she can walk comfortably.
Her Majesty has educated the son, who was an infant at the time of her
illness, and whose natural nourishment she partook of. This young man
is already a Secretary in a good yamen (Government Office).
No Chinese lady of position ever dresses herself or combs her own hair,
and she generally has three or four personal maids. These are, in many
instances, bought outright from their parents, and might be considered
really slaves; but they are treated with great consideration and even
friendliness by their mistresses, and have in most instances a happy
lot. As these maids are bought when they and their mistresses are
children, they grow up together, and though the maid never forgets the
respect due her mistress, they are on a much more friendly footing than
mistress and maid could ever be in Europe in such cases.
The first of a lady’s maids stands behind her at table, no matter how
many servitors there may be; goes out with her, sits with her, and
sleeps either in her room or at her door, and is almost her constant
companion. When the time comes for them to marry, they are given a
comfortable outfit by their mistresses, and are cared for to the third
and fourth generation; but the children of the so-called slaves are
free, unless the mother or parents decide, of their own free will, to
sell them, as they have been sold, to some good family.
CHAPTER VI
CONTINUATION OF THE PORTRAIT--HER MAJESTY’S
DOGS
I had daily morning sittings from Her Majesty for the portrait,
but always surrounded by the whole Court, with eunuchs coming and
going. The sittings were long enough, for I had an hour in the morning
and a half-hour in the afternoon with Her Majesty, but she did not
expect me to work except when she posed, and this was not enough to
make any headway on the picture, as there was a great deal I might
have done at other times. Though there was so much going and coming in
the Throne-room, it was a great advantage working in Her Majesty’s own
“milieu,” surrounded by her favorite furniture, flowers, and fruits.
This was some compensation; but I saw, if Her Majesty insisted upon my
resting when she did--if I were allowed to work only in the Throne-room
and only when she posed--the work could not go on as it should. Sitting
for her portrait seemed to be looked on somewhat in the light of an
amusement by the Empress Dowager, as a time for conversation and
relaxation. She put me many questions while she sat, and I felt she was
studying me as closely as I was studying her during that time.
My interest in the personality of this wonderful woman increased each
day. I loved to watch the extreme mobility of her countenance when she
was at ease and was not invested in her official expression, nor her
Buddha-like pose. Her voice was most musical, with no indication of age
in it. Her enunciation was clear, and I loved to hear her talk. Though
understanding but little of what she said, the music of her voice,
the grace of her gesticulations, and the charm of her smile made her
conversation most delightful to watch and listen to.
I was delighted that Her Majesty seemed to like me, and I appreciated
her consideration in not wishing me to tire myself out with my work,
and her kind hospitality which desired to make me acquainted with the
charms of the Summer Palace and which allowed me to participate in her
promenades and the simple amusements of her Ladies; but I felt it was
important to advance the work on the portrait as quickly as possible. I
knew that the “favor of kings” is uncertain, and I feared Her Majesty
might soon tire of this new departure, of having her portrait painted!
I feared the openly expressed opposition of the Chinese to a foreign
lady being made a member of the Court circle, their superstition
regarding the painting of a portrait of one of Their Majesties, which
was against all Chinese tradition, might any day put a stop to the
work; but, notwithstanding my fears and my desire to work, the days
passed with little painting, and this was the only flaw in my perfect
enjoyment of the fairy-like days and the unique experiences through
which I was passing.
The walks with Her Majesty had all the pomp and ceremony of the
boat-rides--Her Majesty’s and the Empress’s yellow satin sedan chairs,
with their six bearers, leading off, followed by the red chairs of
the Princesses and Ladies-in-waiting, according to their rank, with a
rigorous adherence to precedence, and attended by an army of eunuchs
and chair-bearers, etc. No one ever knew what our destination was
to be when we started out on these walks, Her Majesty directing her
chair-bearers as she was carried along, and the others following this
lead; but we were always taken to some interesting spot, where there
was something quite worth seeing. When Her Majesty’s chair stopped, all
the others were immediately put down by the bearers, and the Ladies got
out and went up to where the Empress Dowager’s yellow camp-stool was
placed. She had excellent taste in the choice of stopping-places, and
the views were always picturesque. She seemed to take great pleasure
in showing off the charming points of view, as well as the flowers,
grounds, and buildings.
On one of our walks, her dogs were brought out by their attendant
eunuchs. Dogs are great favorites with all the Chinese, and especially
with the Empress Dowager. She has some magnificent specimens of
Pekingese pugs and of a sort of Skye terrier. The pugs are bred with
great care and have reached a high state of perfection, their spots
being perfectly symmetrical and their hair beautifully long and silky,
and they are of wonderful intelligence. The King Charles spaniels are
said to have been bred out of the first of these dogs ever carried
to Europe. The Empress Dowager has dozens of these pets, but she has
favorites among them, and two are privileged characters. One of these
is of the Skye variety, and is most intelligent and clever at tricks.
Among other tricks, he will lie as dead at Her Majesty’s command, and
never move until she tells him to, no matter how many others may speak
to him. Her other favorite she loves for his beauty. He is a splendid,
fawn-colored Pekingese pug, with large, pale-brown, liquid eyes. He is
devoted to her, and she is very fond of him, but as he was not easily
taught, even as a puppy, she called him “Shadza” (fool). Her dogs all
have most appropriate names, given by herself. They know Her Majesty’s
voice and will obey her slightest word.
The Empress Dowager does not care for the small sleeve-dog; she hates
the thought of their being stunted by being fed only on sweets and
wines. She says she cannot understand animals being deformed, at
man’s pleasure. The day we first met the dogs in the garden was the
first time I had seen them. They rushed up to Her Majesty, not paying
the slightest attention to any one else. She patted their heads and
caressed and spoke to her favorites. After a while they seemed to
notice that a stranger was present, and they bounded over toward
me. Some of them growled and showed other evidences of displeasure,
some seemed surprised almost to fear; but as the instinct of a dog
never deceives him as to who is his friend, this was all soon changed
to friendly greetings. I bent down to caress them, and forgot my
surroundings, in my pleasure at seeing and fondling these beautiful
creatures. I glanced up, presently, never dreaming Her Majesty had been
paying any attention to me, as I was standing at a little distance
behind her, and I saw on her face the first sign of displeasure I had
noticed there. It seems her dogs never noticed any one but herself, and
she appeared not to like her pets being so friendly with a stranger
at first sight. Noticing this, I immediately ceased fondling them,
and they were presently sent away. It was but a momentary shadow that
passed over her face, and I quite understood the feeling. One does not
like to see one’s pets too friendly with strangers, and I had been
tactless in trying to make friends with them at once.
A few days later, on another of our walks, some young puppies were
brought to be shown the Empress Dowager. She caressed the mother and
examined critically the points of the puppies. Then she called me up to
show them to me, asking me which I liked best. I tried not to evince
too much interest in them this time, but she called my attention to
their fine points and insisted upon my taking each of them up. She
seemed to be ashamed of her slight displeasure of the day before, and
to wish to compensate for it.
The dogs at the Palace are kept in a beautiful pavilion with marble
floors. They have silken cushions to sleep on, and special eunuchs to
attend them. They are taken for daily outdoor exercise and given their
baths with regularity. There are hundreds of dogs in the Palace, the
young Empress, the Princesses and Ladies, and even the eunuchs, having
their own. Some of the eunuchs are great fanciers and breeders of them.
One of them still breeds the sleeve-dog. Her Majesty’s known dislike to
these latter is probably the cause of fewer being bred in the Palace
now than formerly; and the race is slowly dying out. All the other dogs
in the Palace, except Her Majesty’s, are kept in the apartments and
courts of their owners, and are not seen by her.
She dislikes cats very much, but some of the eunuchs have very fine
specimens of the felines. They keep them, however, “sub rosa” and
within rigid bounds, on no condition allowing them to come within Her
Majesty’s ken.
The pavilion at the Summer Palace where the Empress Dowager’s dogs
were kept was near her Throne-room, and also near the pavilion she had
set aside for me. When the Court was taking its siesta, I used to go
out where the dogs were basking in the sun in their court and look at
and play with these interesting little animals. I was free to do as I
pleased, and no one but the dogs’ guardian eunuchs saw me there.
Among the younger set, of these pampered pets, was one that caught my
fancy--one of those which had been brought for Her Majesty to look at
in the garden. He was a beautiful white-and-amber-colored Pekingese
pug. He soon learned to know me and would come running to me when I
crossed the threshold of the court. Not long after I had discovered
where the dogs were kept and had been paying them my daily visits,
one night, when we had finished dinner at Her Majesty’s table, one of
her eunuchs brought in this very little dog and put it in my arms,
saying Her Majesty had presented it to me from her own kennel! She had
evidently learned of my visits to the dogs, though none of the eunuchs
around her person had seen me go there, at least so I thought! I was
delighted to own this beautiful animal, and when the Empress Dowager
came into the Throne-room from her own apartments, I went up to her and
kissed her hand and thanked her for it. She seemed much pleased that
I liked it, and remarked that she had heard it was my favorite of her
dogs, that I was to call him “Me-lah” (Golden Amber), from the color
of his spots. Her Majesty and the Princesses were all much amused at
the way he followed me around, not leaving my side for an instant,
nor paying any attention to their frequent efforts to attract his
attention. From that day, he became my constant companion and faithful
friend.
CHAPTER VII
FESTIVITIES AT COURT
Preparations were now beginning at the Palace for the celebration of
His Majesty the Emperor’s Birthday. This is not celebrated on the
anniversary of the day he was born, but two days earlier. His Majesty
must make the Autumnal Sacrifices to his Ancestors three days after
the real date of his Birthday, and he must prepare himself for these
sacrifices by a rigorous fast of three days. As it would be impossible
to accomplish the ceremonial prescribed for the Imperial Birthday while
fasting, the celebration of the Birthday was advanced, a special edict
having been issued by the two Empresses, when Co-Regents for the young
Emperor, ordering the Birthday celebrations to be advanced by two days,
for the date of the sacrifices could not be changed--the sacrifice to
one’s Ancestors being the most sacred of obligations to the Chinese,
and most rigidly and religiously observed. Even the Chinese Emperor’s
Birthday is not celebrated for two years after the death of his
predecessor, so rigorous are the rules of respect to the dead and the
rites accorded to one’s Ancestors in China.
I knew no painting could be done during these festivities, and I
expected to go back to the United States Legation. I never dreamed I
should be invited to participate in this celebration, hitherto unseen
by any foreigner. A week before the Birthday itself, when out for
one of our walks with Her Majesty, she called me up to her side and
said the Emperor’s Birthday was to be celebrated the next week, and
invited me to remain in the Palace for these festivities. I was, of
course, overjoyed at this gracious mark of her favor, and delighted to
be able to see the Oriental pomp and pageantry that accompanied these
ceremonial celebrations in China.
There were to be magnificent theatrical performances, splendid
fireworks and decorations, and all sorts of pageants. The Imperial
company of actors had already begun rehearsing special poems and plays,
written to celebrate the occasion. Eunuchs were constantly bringing Her
Majesty specimens of the work of the decorators and painters who were
carrying out her designs as to special scenes and tableaux, or coming
to ask for further instructions. The literati, who were preparing the
original poems, sent in their manuscripts, that she might judge of
their merits and make suggestions. She herself overlooked every detail,
and seemed most interested and anxious to have everything successful.
The festivities began four days before the Birthday with gala
performances at the Theater. Each day the decorations of the buildings,
the courts, and gardens increased in beauty. In the principal courts,
magnificent bronzes, all sorts of antique instruments of music, used
only on these great occasions, were brought out as decorations;
for music forms part of every ceremonial, official or religious, in
China. Among the curious instruments were splendid bronze frames, with
several superposed octaves of triangular musical-stones suspended
therefrom; elaborately carved supports for different-toned bells; huge
“triangles”; immense bronze “tam-tams,” curiously and beautifully
wrought; big drums on splendid bronze stands; wonderfully chased bells;
and many other quaint instruments, used only for official and state
processions in honor of Their Celestial Majesties.
The slanting and projecting, upturned roofs of the different buildings
forming the Palaces were decorated with scarfs of vari-colored silk,
knotted into a curious sort of fringe of rosettes, about two feet long;
yellow, the Imperial color, and red, the festive color, predominating,
but other colors were introduced into the color-scheme to accentuate
these.
The large Square in front of the Imperial gateway, outside the
Precincts, was filled with huge, tent-like, yellow satin umbrellas,
with deep curtains around the edge. These umbrellas are used for
all great festivities in China, and are generally of red. Those for
the Emperor’s Birthday were, of course, of the Imperial yellow, and
were richly embroidered with emblematic designs. Presents for the
Emperor were arriving daily from all parts of the Great Empire, and
though everything was directed by splendid system the commotion was
nevertheless great.
Finally, there was the first gala performance at the Theater. Her
Majesty occupied her loge nearly all day, overlooking every detail,
sending now and then to the stage one of her eunuchs to transmit her
Imperial commands as to the speaking of certain lines or the using
of certain postures. On the day of this gala performance she invited
all the Ladies of the Palace to lunch, for the first time since I had
been there, in the court of the Theater. Her Majesty lunched in the
Imperial loge, and then ordered our repast to be served in the court,
where tables were laid and served with all the pomp and ceremony
that characterized the meals at the Palace. Even this “al-fresco”
entertainment was ceremonious.
Most of the large courts of the Summer Palace have roofs of matting
erected over them, to keep out the sun. These mat-roofs make, of
the flower-filled courts, delightfully cool, outdoor parlors. The
mat-sheds at the Palace are almost works of art. Tall poles, reaching
from twenty to thirty feet above the roofs surrounding the courts to
be protected from the sun, are painted in festive designs, and they
support transversal beams, also gaily painted. Over these roof-beams
are stretched strips of the beautiful matting which the Chinese excel
in making. Matting-curtains drop from the roof of the sheds to a level
with the Palace roofs. These side-curtains, as well as huge sections of
the matting-roof, are movable, and may be opened and raised by means
of cords and pulleys attached to the supporting pillars. The whole
structure, supporting pillars and transversal beams, is tied together
with ropes the same color of the beams, and not a nail is used. The
mat-sheds are put up in June and taken down in September.
New ladies were arriving at the Palace every day for a week before
the Birthday--members of the Imperial Family from a distance, and the
wives and daughters of Manchu nobles who were of sufficient rank to
present their congratulations in person. The young Empress never failed
to introduce me to these ladies. A foreigner in the Chinese Court is a
much more extraordinary circumstance than a Chinese at a European Court
would be, and this was, in most instances, the first meeting of these
Princesses with any foreigner; but they were uniformly courteous and
even cordial, never evincing the slightest curiosity as to my dress
or my habits. I doubted whether a Chinese at a European Court, or at
our White House, would have been treated with the same consideration
by all, even to the servants. The children, of whom there were several
at Court at this time, were as well-bred as their elders in their
treatment of the “foreign lady.”
After our first lunch in the court of the Theater, when the theatrical
performance of the day was finished and the actors had left, I
approached the stage of the Theater and began examining, with interest,
its construction and appointments. The Palace Theater is raised about
twelve feet from the ground, and its main floor is on a level with the
Imperial loge. The building consists of three stories and a cellar. The
latter is used for the few pieces of scenery of the scenic plays, and
is where the simple devices used for moving it are manipulated. Like
the Greek theater, the stage is open on three sides; and the actors
come out and speak their parts, their entrance being to the left and
the exit to the right of the stage.
Her Majesty was within her loge while I was examining the construction
of the Theater; but she evidently noticed my movements, for the eunuchs
soon threw open the great plate doors and she descended the steps of
the Imperial loge and came across the court to where I was standing.
She asked me if I would not like to go on the stage and look over the
building and examine things thoroughly. She added, “You probably may
never have such a chance to see a good Chinese theater again.” She,
herself, went up the steps leading from the court to the stage, and
told me to follow her.
The stage is about twenty-five feet square, is roofed over, and
projects into the court, its three sides being open. The fourth side
has doors and curtains for the entrance and exit of the actors. There
are no actresses in China. The men perform the parts of women, and
represent them with such success that I was much surprised when I
learned there were no actresses. At the back of the stage sit the
musicians, who accompany all the theatrical performances in China.
Her Majesty, herself, led the way across the stage and we went behind
the scenes. Here, I examined closely a number of “Floats” that were to
be used, in the procession in honor of the Emperor, on the day of the
Birthday. These floats had all been designed by the Empress Dowager.
After we had looked at these, she suggested that I had better see the
upper floors. These latter are not in general use in Chinese theaters.
The theaters, even at the other Palaces, have but one stage. The steps
which lead to the second stage, and thence to the third stage, are
behind the scenes. The two upper stages are used for spectacular
plays and tableaux, when certain of the players group themselves
in pyramidal form on these superposed stages and speak their lines
therefrom. The upper stages have also trap-doors and pulleys for use in
the spectacular plays. Her Majesty went up, herself, to show me these
stages. She mounted the steep and difficult steps with as much ease and
lightness as I did, and I had on comfortable European shoes, while she
wears the six-inch-high Manchu sole in the middle of her foot, and must
really walk as if on stilts.
Neither the Empress Dowager nor any of the Manchu ladies bind their
feet; that custom prevailed in China before the Manchu conquest. The
Manchus have adopted many of the manners and customs of the Chinese,
but the Manchu women have retained their own individuality; and to-day,
after more than two hundred and fifty years in China, they still wear
their native costume, entirely different from the Chinese women. They
still dress their hair in the picturesque Manchu fashion. They not only
have never bound their feet, but they have as great a horror of it as
Europeans have. Manchu ladies are not bound by the same rigid social
conventions as are the Chinese women. They are less circumscribed and
have more individual freedom than any other Oriental women. In fact,
the Manchu woman seems to be, to other Oriental women, what the modern
American woman is to her European sisters.
CHAPTER VIII
HIS MAJESTY THE EMPEROR KWANG-HSU
The Emperor Kwang-Hsu was barely eighteen years old when Her Majesty
the Empress Dowager, Regent of the Empire, handed over to him the
reins of Government, admonishing him in a parting Imperial Decree to
“discipline his body, develop his mind, love his People, and give
unceasing attention to the administration of Government,” which Decree
His Majesty responded to in fitting terms, by another Decree, begging
“Her Majesty the Empress Dowager to continue to advise him in important
affairs,” saying he “would not dare to be indolent,” that only after
prayer and sacrifice “to Heaven and Earth and his Ancestors would
he Himself begin to administer affairs of State on the 15th day of
the First moon of the 13th year of his Reign”! He began to reign by
our count the 25th day of February, 1889, under the appellation of
“Kwang-Hsu” (Glorious Succession). The name under which an Emperor of
China reigns is not his own, but one chosen for him, and has generally
some appropriate signification or some symbolic meaning.
His Majesty Kwang-Hsu is the twelfth Emperor, who has reigned over
China, of the Dynasty of the “Great Purity,” as the Manchu Dynasty
is called.[2] His reign began at the age of five years, under the
Co-Regency of the Empress of the Eastern and Empress of the Western
Palaces. The former died in 1881, and from that time on Her Majesty,
the present Empress Dowager, ruled alone as “Regent.” His reign,
counting the years of the Regency, has already lasted thirty years, the
third in point of length of any of the Emperors of the Manchu Dynasty.
[2] Confucius says “Purity is the Essence of Heaven.” Did the Manchus
call theirs the “Dynasty of the Great Purity” with a knowledge of
Confucian teaching, that the descendants of the Dynasty of the Great
Purity (Essence of Heaven) might become literally the “Sons of Heaven,”
the appellation borne by the Emperors of China?
His Majesty the Emperor Kwang-Hsu was nearing the completion of
his thirty-second year when I was first presented to him. I found
him an interesting study, but not to the degree of Her Majesty the
Empress Dowager, who has charm and is so fascinating. The Emperor
is singularly devoid of this quality of “charm,” and has but little
personal magnetism. He interests one, nevertheless. Her Majesty is
Universal, the Emperor is typically Oriental. In person he is of slight
and elegant figure, not more than five feet four in height. He has a
well-shaped head, with the intellectual qualities well developed, a
high brow, with large brown eyes and rather drooping lids, not at all
Chinese in form or setting. His nose is high and, like most members of
the Imperial Family, is of the so-called “noble” type. A rather large
mouth with thin lips, the upper short with a proud curve, the lower
slightly protruding, a clear-cut, thin jaw, a strong chin a little
beyond the line of the forehead, with not an ounce of superfluous
flesh on the whole face, give him an ascetic air and, in spite of his
rather delicate physique, an appearance of great reserve strength. His
complexion is not so white and clear as that of the other members
of the Imperial Family, for the Manchus have whiter skins than the
Chinese; but this seems more the result of delicacy than natural with
the Emperor. His luxuriant, very long hair, a characteristic of the
Manchus, is beautifully silky and glossy and always arranged with
the greatest care. It is said he much dislikes being shaved, but
tradition, immutable in China, does not allow a man under forty, even
if he be the “Son of Heaven,” to wear a mustache or whiskers. Like all
well-bred Chinese, he has small feet and hands, the latter long and
thin and most expressive. The Emperor dresses with extreme neatness
and great simplicity, wearing few ornaments and no jewels except on
State occasions. His face is kindly in expression, but the glance from
his rather heavy-lidded eyes is shrewd and intelligent. His manner is
shy and retiring, but this does not seem to be so much from a lack of
confidence in himself as from the absence of that magnetic quality,
which gives one an appearance of assurance.
He seemed to me the ideal of what one would imagine an Oriental
potentate to be, whose title is the “Son of Heaven.” There is a
Sphinx-like quality to his smile. In his eyes one sees the calm,
half-contemptuous outlook upon the world, of the fatalist. There is
an abstractness in the subtilty of his regard, an abstractness that
embodies one’s idea of the “Spirit of the Orient.” At first it is
difficult to tell whether this comes from a sense of power or from a
knowledge of the lack of it, but that firm and fleshless jaw, that
ascetic face and keen eye, show there must be reserve strength, that
there can be no lack of power, should he wish to exert it. Over his
whole face there is a look of self-repression, which has almost reached
a state of passivity.
Does he dream of future greatness for the Empire? Does he feel that
though his first efforts at governing have failed, he can bide his
time--that all things will come to him who waits? Enigma, difficult
to divine! But it almost seems so! He appears to fully realize, now,
that he made a mistake in the choice of his instruments and time, in
his efforts for Progress. But the look of eternal patience in the
half-veiled regard of those large eyes seems to show that he will
yet try to accomplish China’s salvation--that he is but waiting his
opportunity.
There is no evidence of the Emperor’s feeling any animosity toward
the Empress Dowager. Their relations, though rigidly formal, as is
necessary from their exalted positions, seem to be most friendly.
If there is any feeling on his part as to the check his Government
received by the “coup d’état” of 1898, he does not seem to feel that
Her Majesty is responsible for it. It was not she who put a momentary
stop to his dreams of Progress. It was Chinese conservatism, a
coalition of powerful ministers who put up the barriers of the “coup
d’état” before him when His Majesty thought to drive on to Progress.
The Empress Dowager returned from her retirement and took up the reins
of Government again, at the earnest prayers of the wisest Statesmen
of China. She was persuaded by them, and she also believed, that the
Emperor was driving the Chariot of State too fast over the difficult
and ill-kept roads of traditional Chinese routine. She felt that His
Majesty, as well as the state, would soon be dashed to pieces if he
continued as he was then going. It seems as if the Emperor realizes
it all now. His unfathomable eye hides an infinity of possibilities,
perchance a world of events. Is he quietly studying how to seize
opportunity, when it next passes, and leap upon its back and lash it on
to Progress or to--Ruin? He would meet either with that same stoical,
Sphinx-like smile, I feel confident.
He seems, now, to give but little advice. He holds Audiences, however,
and sees many of the officials alone. He issues edicts independent
of Her Majesty; but on all grave affairs, and at the meeting of the
Grand Council, Her Majesty is always present, and the decisions are
the results of their two opinions. When despatches were brought into
Her Majesty’s Throne-room when the Emperor was present, they were
first handed to her, and, after glancing them over, she would give
them to him. He, after carefully reading them, handed them back to her
with rarely a comment. One could see, though, that this was not from
ignorance of the subject, but that he trusted, for the time being, to
Her Majesty’s greater experience.
Though the Emperor does not seem to feel that the time has come for
him to act, he studies every event with the closest attention, and is
well informed upon every subject connected with the welfare of the
state. As long as the Empress Dowager sits upon the throne with him, I
think he will not try to make any of his ideas paramount to hers. He
knows that she also wishes Progress for China, and that her methods,
more conservative and necessarily slower than his, may, in the end,
accomplish just as good results. He seems to trust her thoroughly,
and to be willing to have her take the lead. He knows, and the world
will soon see, that Her Majesty the Empress Dowager is also vowed to
Progress for China; that she is not anti-progressive, nor against
reform, now that she feels the time has come for Progress and Reform.
Her late edicts show this.
Whether the remodeling of China’s laws, which will bring her into line
with the Great Nations of to-day, will come during the Emperor’s life;
whether his power of waiting and his patience may enable him to reach
the time when accomplishment shall crown his efforts, who can tell! In
the meantime, he fulfils his duties as Official Head of the Empire,
rigidly observing all public and private ceremonies incumbent upon him
as Emperor.
The Emperor occupies a Palace fronting on the Great Lake as elegant and
luxurious as Her Majesty’s. He has his own eunuchs and attendants, and
leads his own life, quite independent of Her Majesty and the Ladies. He
pays his respects to his “august aunt and adopted mother” every morning
before the Audience, and they go together to transact affairs of state,
after which he returns to his own Palace and follows his own pursuits.
On festivals, when the Theater is going, he comes into the Imperial
loge during the representations, and, on these days, joins the Empress
Dowager and the Ladies in their walks around the gardens or in boating
on the lake. He also dines with Her Majesty on these occasions. He
does not seem to care as much for the Theater as she does, nor to
follow it with so much interest. He often leaves the Imperial loge in
the middle of a play, and goes to his own Theater Throne-room, just
behind the great Imperial loge, where he passes the time in reading or
smoking, which he never does in the presence of Her Majesty.
He occupies himself daily with his studies, among which is English. He
is a great reader. There is a special official, at the Palace, who buys
His Majesty’s books, and they say this is no sinecure, as he does not
devote himself only to Chinese literature and the classics, but devours
translations of foreign works and is constantly calling for new ones.
They say he always reads a book a day, besides attending to his other
duties.
He is passionately fond of music, plays on a number of Chinese
instruments, and has even tried the piano. He has a good ear for
music, and can pick out any air he has heard upon any instrument at
his disposal. He is very clever, also, in a mechanical way, and can
take to pieces and put together a clock, with fair success. He has been
known, however, to fail in getting the very complicated mechanism of
some of the Palace clocks properly together again. The Empress Dowager
is constantly fearing that His Majesty will take some of her favorite
clocks to pieces and not be able to put them into working order again;
and he will not allow any one else to finish what he has begun.
He is a very early riser, often getting up as early as two A.M.
When there was some ceremony in Peking or some sacrifice to his
Ancestors, he would go the sixteen miles, perform the ceremony or
sacrifice and return in time for the Audience at eight o’clock, and it
takes two hours and a half for the Emperor’s swift runners to carry
him the sixteen miles between the Summer Palace and Peking. He does
not seem to care for young associates, either men or women, though
he is very fond of children. He had but few favorites in the Palace,
and quite ignored the pretty young girls and women of Her Majesty’s
“entourage.” He seems to have great respect for cleverness.
There are certain distinctions made with reference to Her Majesty
and the Emperor, which are rather curious. Her Majesty, being his
Ancestress, is first in everything. She sits upon the Throne in the
Great Audience Hall, while His Majesty sits on a stool at her left. He
walks beside her chair when they go out, and stands in her presence,
but when they dine together he sits in the place of honor at the end of
the table. When Her Majesty dines alone, her chop-sticks and spoons, as
well as the covers of her yellow porcelain dishes, are of silver. When
Their Majesties dine together, the covers of the dishes are of gold,
and His Majesty’s chop-sticks and spoons are also of gold. I never
knew what kind of covers or chop-sticks were used when the Emperor
dined alone; for this was always in his own Palace, and I never saw his
Palace except from the outside. It was not considered good taste, nor
according to the “Proprieties,” even to look that way when the Ladies
happened to pass it in their promenades.
When His Majesty walked in the grounds with only his own attendants,
without being in the train of the Empress Dowager, his walks were in
parts of the grounds not frequented by the Ladies. On Festival days,
when he went out in the Imperial barge, or walked with Her Majesty
and the Ladies, as he sometimes did, he went through these promenades
with his usual courteous demeanor, but he did not seem to enjoy them,
and when they were finished he would return with his own attendants
to his own Palace. He assisted Her Majesty when she was entertaining
the Foreign Representatives, but one, who knew him, could plainly see
that he was bored by these Audiences. He would slip away at the first
opportunity, not because he objected to the foreigners, but that these
state functions were not to his taste. Her Majesty would have preferred
him to do his share in the entertainment of the Foreign Representatives
and be more “en évidence.” Though never out of temper or disagreeable
on these occasions, and while he seemed to wish to do his duty, he
seemed anxious to get them over. Whether from shyness or dislike at the
functions, I could not tell.
CHAPTER IX
THE EMPEROR’S BIRTHDAY
We went to the Palace early the day of His Majesty’s Birthday, and were
in the Empress Dowager’s Throne-room at six o’clock in the morning;
but long before that time, the outer court was filled with the red and
yellow chairs and carts of the visiting members of the Imperial Family,
who had come in from Peking and from the neighboring Palaces for the
day. The high eunuchs were in gala costume, wearing silken gowns of
great beauty, embroidered in the Double Dragon. The eunuchs of lower
rank were more simply gowned, as the representation of the Double
Dragon on the Court gown is only allowed to those of a certain rank.
Our chair-bearers were clad in the festive red, with brocaded figures,
representing the characters for Longevity.
We passed through the beautifully decorated courts, past the gaily
decked Palaces to the Throne-room of Her Majesty, where the Emperor
had come to receive the private congratulations of the Princesses of
the blood and the Ladies of the Court. It would have been against the
laws of Chinese etiquette for these Ladies to go into the Emperor’s
Palace to congratulate him, even on such an occasion as his Birthday.
When we entered the Throne-room, the Emperor was seated, or rather,
reclining upon a lounge in the most informal manner. He was not averse,
as was Her Majesty, to the reclining position when on the Throne. His
greater Orientalism was evidenced here, for the Oriental proverb says,
“’Tis better to be sitting than standing, to be lying than sitting,”
etc. He sat up a little straighter on our entrance, and the Ladies made
the formal Chinese bow, which he returned by a friendly nod and kindly
smile. I made the European reverence as usual.
His Majesty was dressed a little more elaborately than usual, in
a yellow gown, tightly belted in around his slender waist with a
handsome belt buckle of jade. At this morning salutation by the Ladies
of his family, his hat lay beside him on the couch, which showed it
was unceremonious, for ceremonies are carried on by the Emperor and
all Chinese with their hats on. The great Imperial Pearl, one of the
most precious of the Imperial jewels, formed the button of his hat
on his Birthday. The seven official ranks of Mandarins are shown by
the different colors of the buttons worn on their hats. The color of
these buttons denotes the rank acquired by their wearers, those of the
Manchu Princes, alone, being hereditary. The buttons of these latter
are generally of jewels or semi-precious stones. The Emperor, the most
simply dressed man I saw in China, wears, as a rule, a plain red silk
button, but the Pearl, which can only be worn by a reigning Emperor, is
used on state occasions.
After we had greeted His Majesty, we moved further into the Throne-room
to await the “lever” of the Empress Dowager. When she came out
of her sleeping apartments, the Ladies fell upon their knees and
simultaneously repeated the words of greeting used every morning to
Her Majesty, “Lao-Tzu-Tzung Chee-Siang” (Great Ancestress, be happy).
After acknowledging their salutations, she advanced and held out her
hand to me, and I took it and, as was now my custom, raised the tips
of her fingers to my lips. I, of course, never made any but a European
salutation to either Her Majesty or the Emperor. She was very gracious
and said I would be the first foreigner who had ever seen the birthday
celebration of any of the Sons of Heaven, and she hoped I would enjoy
it! She then commented on my dress and ornaments, examining the few
jewels I wore. After this she turned to the Ladies and, with a quick
glance, took in all the details of their Court costumes, calling their
attention to the way their official beads hung and signaling any little
deviation from traditional forms that she noticed in their attire. She
was extremely rigid as to all the details of Court dress.
The Court costume of the Ladies is magnificent. That worn at the
Emperor’s Birthday (the summer costume) was of the stiff transparent
silk I have described in the gown worn by Her Majesty for the portrait.
The Court costume of the married ladies is of dark red, embroidered
in golden dragons. The widows wear blue; the unmarried girls, bright
red--all with the Double Dragon embroidered thereon. The married ladies
and widows, when in Court attire, wear a magnificent court head-dress
with jeweled crown. The young girls, even in Court dress, wear the
ordinary Manchu coiffure, with the long red silk tassels falling to
their shoulders. The young Empress was charming on the Birthday. Her
head-dress was of golden filigree, thickly set with jewels. Across
the front, nine beautifully chased golden phenix, with jeweled tails
outspread, held in their bills strings of pearls that fell to her
shoulders and veiled her forehead. Square, conventionalized bunches of
flowers projected from either side of this curiously and elaborately
wrought head-dress. Her gown was of the Imperial yellow, embroidered
with the golden Double Dragon. She had, around her neck, a solid piece
of chased gold, like a huge open ring, with balls at the ends; and she
wore the official beads that are always worn in Court dress by Princes
and Officials and their wives. The Emperor and Empress Dowager are
the only members of the Court who wear, neither the Double Dragon on
their Court dress, nor the official beads. Suspended from the Empress’s
neck was a magnificently embroidered stole, about four inches wide,
which reached to the hem of her gown. This stole is only worn by the
wives of Emperors, during their husband’s lifetime. The young Empress
seemed unusually happy to-day, and this was the first time I had ever
seen her and the Emperor in conversation. Next to the young Empress
came the only secondary wife of the Emperor. She was dressed exactly
as the young Empress was; the same gown, the same head-dress, the same
embroidered stole, only her jewels were not so handsome, and her dress,
instead of being of the Imperial yellow, was of orange. Yellow can only
be worn by the first wife of an Emperor!
After the salutations to the Emperor and Empress Dowager in Her
Majesty’s private Throne-room, Her Majesty went out into the court and
took her place in her yellow chair of State, the Emperor following, on
foot, as was his custom. The cymbals clashed. The flutes sounded and
all the instruments of the Imperial Band played the curious minor air,
with its tragic undertone of sound, its rhythm like a Gregorian chant,
which is only played at the passing of Their Majesties for some great
ceremony or official function, and which I soon called the “Imperial
Hymn.” This is the only approach to a National air that I ever heard in
China.
Their Majesties went in ceremonious procession to the Great Audience
Hall, where the Princes, Nobles, and high Officials privileged to
enter Precincts, were to present their homage and congratulations to
the Son of Heaven on the happy occasion of his Birthday. Besides these
privileged visitors, there were a number of officials whose rank was
not high enough to allow them to enter the Great Hall of Ceremonies.
These kneel and make the prostrations in the outer courts.
The young Empress and Ladies of the Court did not follow Their
Majesties to the Great Hall, but stopped at the Palace of the young
Empress, to await there their turn for the official congratulations,
which were not to be made until after those of the Princes and Nobles.
The young Empress is a charming hostess, and her eunuchs and women
handed us tea and cigarettes while we were waiting. She also had her
dogs brought in for me to see. Her apartments opened on a sunny court,
full of flowering shrubs and fruit trees. Around the other three sides
of the court were built the pavilions for the use of her attendants
and ladies. We spent half an hour in her pavilion, waiting for the
congratulations of the Princes and Nobles to be finished.
The Emperor, for these official congratulations, was seated upon the
Dynastic Throne, erect and stiff as an archaic figure; no longer the
shy boy, but the Monarch clothed in all his power, and, for to-day,
alone upon his great ancestral Throne. He was attended by his Master
of Ceremonies, gorgeously attired, who stood in the rigid attitude
prescribed for this ceremony.
Each splendidly garbed Prince and Noble knelt and made the prostration
prescribed by the Book of Rites, and each presented His Majesty with
a jade emblem, called by the Chinese “ruyie,”[3] erroneously supposed
to be a scepter by most foreigners; but the “ruyie” is simply an
emblem of Good Luck, and may be presented on festive occasions to any
one whom the givers wish to honor, and is not an emblem of Imperial
authority. The Emperor held each of these “ruyie” in his hands for a
few seconds after their presentation, bowed profoundly to the kneeling
Prince, and then handed the emblem to an attendant eunuch, who placed
it on a Dragon table at the left of the Emperor. When the Princes
and Nobles had congratulated His Majesty and left the Throne-room,
the young Empress and secondary wife, followed by the Princesses and
Ladies, went in to make their official congratulations. The greeting
in Her Majesty’s Throne-room in the morning had been but a friendly
salutation, without any official signification. The young Empress knelt
and made her bow first and presented--as did each of the Ladies--a
“ruyie.” She made the same official salutation as did the others, but
her “ruyie” was of a much richer style than those presented by the
other Ladies.
[3] Generally written “jui,” but pronounced as I have written it.
After the ceremony of formal congratulations was over, Her Majesty,
the Emperor, and Empress, followed by the Ladies and attendants, went
in state to the Theater, with the same ceremonial and pomp with which
they had gone into the Hall of Ceremonies. The Empress Dowager, who
was always the most gorgeously attired person at Court, was, on His
Majesty’s Birthday, dressed with an extreme simplicity that amounted
almost to plainness, and she wore no jewels. This plainness of attire
was not an accident, but had been arranged with her usual forethought.
She wished the Emperor and Empress to be the central figures of this
day’s festivities, and did not wish to vie with the Empress even in her
attire.
The Princes and Nobles, who had come to the Palace for the official
congratulations, were invited to the theatrical performance. They
occupied the boxes that ran at right angles to the Imperial loge, which
I have already described as forming the other two sides of the court
of the Theater. A huge screen of painted silk, twelve feet high, was
stretched from the last of the boxes occupied by the Princes to the
stage--allowing the latter to be perfectly seen by the occupants of the
boxes, but cutting off their view of the Imperial loge, whence Their
Majesties, the Empress, and Ladies viewed the play. These invited
guests are thus neither seen by the Imperial party, nor can they see
the latter.
When Their Majesties and the Empress were seated in their loge, the
principal actors came to the front of the stage, knelt, and “kow-towed”
to the Imperial box. Then the play began. There was first a noisy
burst of weird music, then the chief actor recited a laudatory,
congratulatory poem in honor of the Birthday of the Emperor, wishing
His Majesty “ten thousand years” of happiness and all the blessings
possible. The poem was intoned like a chant by the actor, dressed in
the gorgeous historic costume of an Imperial Herald of the time of
Kublai Kahn. This poem was most impressive. One of the verses ran thus:
“The vast merits of His Imperial Majesty’s August Ancestors have
been handed down to Him from generation to generation.
“To the wisdom of His whole Dynasty we owe it, that we have lived
in happiness,
“Ever ready to comply with the lofty teaching of our Rulers, leading
us unto Good....”
The poem went on to recite His Majesty’s merits as a son, his respect
for his August Mother, his filial piety, and ended with a wish that
Great China might flourish and prosper--grow strong outwardly and
inwardly, through the blessings of his reign and his desire for
Progress.
After this poem had been intoned by the chief actor, with the whole
company of players grouped around on the lower, as well as on the
two superposed stages, all in splendid historic costumes, there was
another noisy clash of weird music and the play itself began. The
Chinese theater, which goes on from morning to night with a series of
plays, generally begins with a short one, a curtain-raiser of a quarter
to half an hour’s length. To-day it began at once, after the poem was
intoned, with a great historic drama. The exploits and high deeds of
former Emperors were shown, and the actors were magnificently costumed
in superb historic gowns which had been handed down from antiquity and
were absolutely authentic.
At half-past eleven, with the Theater still in full swing, the eunuchs
brought out tables of sweetmeats on the verandah of the Imperial loge,
and set them before the young Empress and the Princesses and Ladies,
and we were served to refreshments. Sweets and fruits in China are
served between the regular meals. The sweetmeats to-day were “birthday
food,” and were all inscribed with some character meaning “Longevity,”
“Good Luck,” “Happiness,” “Peace,” etc. There were pyramids of the
delicious crystallized fruits which the Chinese excel in making;
macédoines of queer fruits, nut pastes, almond creams, and all the
fresh fruits in season. With this preliminary repast were served, also,
some delicious Chinese wines.
Soon after the repast of sweetmeats was finished, we were served in the
court of the Theater this time to the regular meal. It was an immense
table to which we sat down on the Emperor’s Birthday. There were so
many Princesses, Duchesses, and Ladies of high degree from a distance,
that our usual number was more than quadrupled. The repast was a
joyous one. The Chinese are very witty and gay, and though I could not
understand all the scintillations of wit, their gaiety was contagious!
Each gave me special delicacies that she liked, to try, and each seemed
to vie with the other in endeavoring to make the “stranger” feel at
ease. Some of the Ladies drank champagne in my honor, and held up their
glasses toward me as they had seen the foreigners do. When the elders
had finished eating, the young people sat down. These were the children
of the Princesses and Nobles who had been invited to join their parents
for these festivities at the Palace. No girl or boy under sixteen is
allowed to sit down with their elders to a ceremonious dinner at the
Palace.
Soon after we had finished our gay luncheon in the court of the Theater
the Ladies retired within their loge, next to that of Their Majesties,
and the screen which hid the visiting Princes and Nobles from the
Imperial party was removed by the attendant eunuchs. When it was taken
away, there sat, Turkish fashion, the great Princes and high Nobles
in their splendid Court dress. Those of the highest ranks occupied
the boxes nearest the Imperial party. The Princesses pointed out to
me, from their box, their brothers and kinsmen and others whom they
recognized; but we saw without being seen, and were only looking from
behind the scenes.
The eunuchs then handed around refreshments to the Princes and
gentlemen, sweetmeats and fruits, such as we had partaken of before our
luncheon. Then there were some huge steaming silver caldrons brought
into the court, and from these caldrons the eunuchs ladled into bowls
some sort of white drink. As we had had nothing of this kind at our
repast, I was curious to know what it might be. I knew it could not
be wine, for that is served only in tiny cups, and this was served in
the ordinary-sized eating-bowls. I was much surprised to learn that
this drink was simply hot milk, flavored with almonds, and slightly
sweetened, a drink of which the Manchus are very fond, and which is
a special mark of Imperial favor, given only on great occasions. The
gentlemen raised their bowls to their lips with both hands and drank it
off with great ceremony, as if it were a sacred beverage, and seemed,
in drinking it thus, to pledge the Emperor’s Health and Happiness.
After the Princes had partaken of these refreshments, and while some
eunuchs were removing the caldrons and dishes, another army of eunuchs
came in, in pairs, each pair carrying between them trays of Imperial
yellow, decorated with the red characters for Longevity. These trays
contained presents from the Emperor to each of the invited guests, for
His Majesty gives as well as receives presents on his Birthday! There
was no difference made in the presents given, each tray being the
exact counterpart of every other. Each contained a pair of porcelain
vases from the Imperial Potteries, a bronze Incense-burner, a scroll
with a quotation from the classics or an aphorism of Confucius written
thereon. The scrolls were inclosed in silken covers, tied with the
Imperial colors. There was also a jade “ruyie” in each tray, such
as had been handed the Emperor at the morning ceremony, and an
Archer’s ring. After the contents of the trays had been delivered to
each gentleman present, and the empty trays borne away by the Palace
eunuchs, the dividing screen was again placed between the visiting
Princes and Their Majesties, and the young Empress and Ladies went out
of their loge to the verandah once more, and the theatrical performance
again went on. In fact, it had been going on throughout our luncheon
and the subsequent entertainment of the Princes, but we had paid no
attention to it.
At four o’clock there was the grand “finale.” The three superposed
stages were occupied by all the gorgeously attired actors, and another
Hymn of praise to the Emperor was intoned. He was extolled as the Son
of Heaven and representative on earth of Buddha, and other extravagant
wishes for “ten thousand years” of happiness were made. When this
Hymn was finished, the floats, which we had seen the day before
behind the scenes, came out in procession. These floats represented
mythical animals, Buddhas, fairies, and personifications of the higher
attributes. There were gigantic fruits which opened, disclosing figures
representing eternal beauty, perfect happiness, and serene old age.
Prominent among the gigantic fruits was the peach, the emblem of
Longevity. Last of all, in this curious procession, came the Imperial
Dragon, of huge proportions. Its contortions, as it struggled for the
Flaming Pearl, emblematic of the unattainable, were most curious. All
these figures made their obeisances to Their Majesties and the Empress.
They were accompanied by splendidly clothed warriors, heralds,
princes, and many gorgeously attired attendants, bearing banners and
escutcheons. After the procession had made the tour several times, the
dragon stopped with his huge head in the middle of the stage, made an
obeisance to His Majesty, then raised it with a mighty roar and spouted
forth--a copious shower of fresh spring water, which sprinkled the
whole flower-filled court! The Empress and Princesses were all in the
secret and knew what was coming, but they kept it from me, and much
enjoyed my start of surprise as some of the spray fell upon me, as I
had advanced to the very edge of the verandah in order to miss nothing.
When all was finished, the screen was again removed and the great glass
doors of the Imperial loge were thrown open, so that Her Majesty and
the Emperor could be seen. The visiting Princes and Nobles came forward
from their places and knelt in a body, though still observing the laws
of precedence as to their ranks. They knelt three times, and bowed
their heads to the ground nine times to thank Their Majesties for the
entertainment they had received. To receive these prostrations from
the Princes, the Emperor and Empress Dowager assumed their Buddha-like
poses and acknowledged the genuflexions by a formal inclination of
their heads. When the Princes had retired, the actors, clothed in
their usual garments, came to the front of the stage and knelt and
“kow-towed,” but Their Majesties did not return this salutation.
When the Princes and players had left and the Imperial party was alone,
cushions were brought into the middle of the court, the Emperor
and Empress and secondary wife knelt thereon, while their “Great
Ancestress,” the Empress Dowager, preceded by acolytes, swinging golden
incense-burners which gave forth azure clouds of perfumed smoke, came
down the steps to the weird accompaniment of the flutes and cymbals
playing the “Imperial Hymn.” The Emperor and Empress knelt to do Her
Majesty homage, as the greatest living member of their Ancestors.
When she reached them, they arose and followed her, and the three
moved along in stately procession to the slow beating of the cymbals,
followed by the Princesses and Ladies and all the attendant eunuchs.
The subtle perfume of the incense, the stately rhythm, the splendid
costumes, the flashing jewels and brilliant colors, made a magnificent
picture never to be forgotten. The Imperial procession moved through
several sunlit courts until it finally came to the entrance of the
Sacred Hall, containing the Ancestral tablets; here the Empress Dowager
stopped at the threshold until His Majesty and the young Empress had
passed within, to complete the ceremonies of the day by worshiping and
kneeling together before the tablets of their Ancestors. The music
ceased. The ceremony was finished. His Majesty the Emperor Kwang-Hsu
had accomplished another year.
CHAPTER X
PEKING--THE SEA PALACE
The Autumnal Sacrifices to his Ancestors and His Majesty’s consequent
three days’ abstinence, to prepare for them, put a stop to further
festivities after the Birthday, which would have otherwise continued
for several days longer. The day after the Birthday was a quiet one at
the Palace. Her Majesty was feeling tired and did not care to pose,
after the Audience in the morning. The visiting Princesses and Ladies
were preparing to leave the Palace; the eunuchs and Her Majesty’s maids
were bustling around, preparing for the moving of the Court to Peking,
for Her Majesty and the Court, as well as the Emperor, were to go into
one of the City Palaces the following day. Her Majesty ordered luncheon
to be served in one of the beautiful summer-houses in the gardens,
about a mile from the Palace, for she said a change would be good for
all.
This summer-house, or rather Palace, situated on a hill overlooking
the lake, was one of Her Majesty’s favorite resorts. She often went
to it, after a tiring Audience, and spent the rest of the day there,
lunching and dining, and even taking her siesta there. Whenever she
went to any of these Palaces inside the inclosure, she always invited
all the Ladies of the Court to accompany her. It made a change in the
monotony of their lives. This Palace was very luxuriously fitted up,
and contained a splendid library, with thousands of volumes of the
classics and Her Majesty’s favorite authors. The view from its broad
verandahs and fair marble terraces was one of the finest, even of the
many beautiful ones, in the grounds. We lunched on the wide verandah
and drank in the beauty of the scene. No wonder Her Majesty loved this
spot! Beneath lay the beautiful grounds of the Summer Palace, with its
calm lake and winding streams. On an eminence beyond, the graceful
seven-storied pagoda that forms so characteristic a feature in all
the views of the Summer Palace, proudly reared its stately height. On
the right lay the temple-crowned hills, the upturned roofs of their
buildings nestling on their slopes like a flight of gigantic gaily-hued
birds, with wings outspread. In the distance, beyond a soft gray
undulating landscape, with fields of brilliant green here and there,
lay Peking, with its walls and towers, enveloped in a golden haze.
[Illustration: AT THE AMERICAN LEGATION, PEKING]
After luncheon and the siesta, Her Majesty called me up and said she
was to go into Peking on the morrow, and asked whether I wished the
portrait to be taken in for the three days the Court was to remain
in the City. She said she would be much occupied with ceremonies and
sacrifices, and there would be but little time for painting, but if I
wished to work she might be able to give me a short sitting! I told
her I did not care to have the portrait taken into the City, for I
knew it would not be possible to get a room with the same light as that
in which I had begun the picture. When she found I did not care to
paint in Peking, she suggested that I go to the United States Legation
and spend the time of the Court’s sojourn at the Sea Palace. It had
been more than two weeks since I had seen Mrs. Conger, or been in the
Legation quarter, and I was delighted at Her Majesty’s kind forethought
in allowing me to spend these days at the Legation. She, however,
suggested that, as I had not seen the Sea Palace, where the Court
was to go, I might enjoy coming there for the day--and spending some
of the time in seeing the Palace and grounds. She knew how I enjoyed
seeing these beautiful Palaces, and this was another proof of her
consideration. She said she would be much occupied with the ceremonies,
but that she would map out a nice day for me, and would herself take
me for a walk! She added, “This will give you a chance to study me, so
your time will not be entirely spent in vain.” She said we would resume
the portrait on the Court’s return to the Summer Palace.
After our return to her Throne-room, and when we had finished dinner,
she told me I had better go into the room where the portrait and my
materials were kept, when I was not working on it, and said I had
better overlook its being put away myself. She followed me into the
room, and herself aided and directed the arrangement of things. She
ordered the “sacred picture” (for this is what the Chinese call a
likeness of a reigning Emperor or Empress) to be attached to the wall
with yellow cords and covered with a transparent yellow silk, box-like
screen, which had been especially made to protect it from dust. The
portrait was treated, from its very beginning, as an almost sacred
object, with the respect a reverent officiant accords the Holy Vessels
of the Church. Even my painting materials seemed to be invested with
a sort of semi-sacred quality. When Her Majesty felt fatigued, and
indicated that the sittings were finished, my brushes and palette were
taken by the eunuch from my hands, the portrait removed from the easel
and reverently consigned to the room that had been set aside for it.
The next morning early, I preceded the Court into Peking and went
directly to the United States Legation, where I was warmly welcomed
by my kind friends, Mr. and Mrs. Conger. The United States Legation
occupied, at this time, a Chinese temple near the “Water Gate.” This
building had been given to the United States Government by the Chinese
after the Boxer rebellion, and was occupied temporarily by the Minister
of the United States during the construction of the new Legation on
Legation Street. The temple had been transformed into a comfortable
American dwelling-place--its Chinese individuality having been
preserved wherever possible, consistent with comfort. The shaded court,
filled with beautiful, growing flowers (many of them gifts from the
Empress Dowager to Mrs. Conger), was a charming spot. While distinctly
American as to its artistic comfort and furniture, the interior
construction and decoration of the drawing-room were purely Chinese,
which gave a touch of Oriental “couleur locale” to this pleasant haven
of American hospitality, where Mr. and Mrs. Conger dispensed their
kindly favors.
Mrs. Conger, by her own individual initiative, has done much to bring
about a friendly social feeling between the Chinese and foreign ladies.
It was she who first thought of entertaining the Princesses and Ladies
of the Court in her own home; and the United States Legation was
the first of the Legations in Peking to issue an invitation to the
Ladies of the Court, or to entertain them. It is the first Legation to
entertain other Chinese ladies, wives of officials or of the gentry.
Several other Legations have since entertained the Ladies of the Court,
but in doing so they were only following Mrs. Conger’s initiative.
While doing so much to bring about friendly social relations with the
Chinese, Mr. and Mrs. Conger receive all Americans, regardless of their
importance or social position, with a kind cordiality. I was delighted
to be in their charming family circle once more. I found my room at the
Legation, with its sweet touches of homeliness, a delightful haven, and
my visits to the Legation seemed always like going home.
The next morning at seven, a green official chair with its bearers
came to take me to the Sea Palace. I was first carried to the
Hsien-Liang-Hsu, the “Temple of the loyal and virtuous,” where
Li-Hung-Chang formerly had his home in Peking, and a part of which the
Yu-Kengs had arranged for their home after their return from their
mission at Paris, their own semi-foreign house having been destroyed by
the Boxers. At the Hsien-Liang-Hsu I was joined by the Ladies Yu-Keng,
and we continued on to the Sea Palace. Our chairs, with their bearers,
were preceded and followed by mounted attendants.
The Sea Palace is a comparatively new Palace, most of it having
been built within the last fifty years. Our chairs were met at the
northern entrance by the same eunuchs who had been set aside for our
service at the Summer Palace. They led us to the boats in waiting to
carry us across the lake, to the buildings occupied by Her Majesty
and the Court. These boats were of the houseboat variety, with an
inclosed cabin forming the center, and a platform running all around,
on which the rowers walked up and down propelling it. The interior
was carpeted, with a cushioned lounge, tea-tables, and chairs. The
eunuchs and attendants sat outside on the prow. It takes twenty minutes
to row across the lake in one of these boats, but the movement is
delightful. When we reached the other side, we landed and went through
several courts to that of one of Her Majesty’s private chapels. She,
herself, had just been making an offering here, and was coming out,
preceded by acolytes swinging incense-burners, the musicians playing
the “Imperial Hymn.” When she saw us, Her Majesty called us to her
side, asked if I had had a good trip into Peking, and how Mrs. Conger
was. She then ordered the eunuchs to show us our apartments. We were
led through corridors and courts to a charming pavilion which was to
be our resting-place while at the Sea Palace. It had exquisitely and
elaborately carved woodwork arches with heavy satin curtains, which
divided it into five rooms. After we had rested a few moments here, we
returned to the Throne-room. Her Majesty told me she had arranged for
me to go out in one of the boats, and that I was to be shown all that I
cared to see, or at least as much as I could see in that day. A eunuch
standing near her held a number of strips of embroidery in his hand.
They were embroidered head-dresses, which are placed upon the heads
of the Buddhas during the great ceremonies in the Palace temples. She
explained their use to me and then dismissed us, and we went out to the
landing-place on the lake.
A number of boats lay at the foot of the steps--among them a charming
open barge with blue silken awnings. As I had not been in a boat of
this kind before, and as I was told to choose, I selected it for our
row; and we started off, followed by several other boats carrying
eunuchs and refreshments, with the necessary utensils for serving
them. Our head eunuch, one of the six highest in the Palace, who had
been appointed to look after me and the “sacred picture,” was very
intelligent, an enlightened lover of Chinese art, and a great collector
of old Chinese paintings and curios. He had been, in his youth, one
of Her Majesty’s favorite players, was said to have great dramatic
talent, and, when he was younger, had a fine voice for singing. Memory
is among the most esteemed of the intellectual faculties by the Chinese
and reaches a high state of cultivation with them. Many of the eunuchs
can repeat whole pages from the classics, and some are accomplished
literati. This eunuch had a good speaking voice, and recited poems and
told stories in a charming way. As we were rowed along, he stood at the
prow and recited verse after verse of classic lore and told stories
of the heroic times. He intoned them like a recitative--the rhythm
so perfectly observed, the intoning so musical, it was a pleasure to
listen to him, though I could not understand.
I lay back among the cushions, as we glided softly along, past
beautiful pavilions, with splendid trees overhanging the lake and
lovely flowers growing wherever there was a place to plant them. The
tall figure of the splendidly attired eunuch, standing in the prow,
repeating, with rhythmic cadence, poems and stories, gave one the
illusion and charm of the “Arabian Nights,” which I had fed upon in my
childhood, and which I seemed to be living through to-day.
We soon came to a tiny islet in the lake, with a sort of open temple
built over a black marble tablet which bore an incised inscription.
I asked to land and examine it, and San-Gunia, the eldest of Lady
Yu-Keng’s daughters, a remarkably clever girl and well posted in
Chinese literature, translated the characters. The inscription was a
poem, a tribute to the Great Father who had graciously placed there
this island, which “by night was bathed in the glory of the Moon and
Sun-kissed by day, while the crystal waters of the lake formed a
brilliant necklace on its breast.”
Beyond the island I saw a temple. There was no landing-place, and the
temple was under repair. The head eunuch, however, seeing how much I
wished to go up, had the boat draw near and steps brought, up which we
clambered, as best we could.
This was one of the temples so ruthlessly destroyed and unnecessarily
desecrated by the Allies during their occupation of Peking. We passed
through the vegetable garden of the monks--all shorn of its glory,
but where a few vegetables and flowers still grew--and we went on
through a beautiful grove of arbor-vitæ, with centuries-old trees,
planted in the form of a cross, and came into the court of the temple.
Even in its dilapidated state, with the workmen still in it, it was
beautiful, and before it was so injured it must have been a splendid
example of Chinese temple architecture. The cells of the lama monks
were now unoccupied, and there were no officiating priests. Workmen
were repairing and regilding the Great Buddha, and most of the effigies
of the saints and images of the personified attributes were standing
in dejected rows in the corridors awaiting the completion of their
niches and chapels. The interior, of splendid proportions, glowed in
beautiful somber colors. The carved wood ceilings were in pendentive
designs, recalling those I had seen in the Alhambra; but the painting,
in primary colors, of this elaborately carved ceiling gave it a greater
richness of coloring and lent to the interior a warmer, deeper harmony
than the white Moorish designs. The chapels behind the high altar were
separated from the main temple and from each other by beautifully
carved wooden screens, with rich brocaded silk of brilliant green (the
color of Buddha), stretched behind the open-work and showing through
the interstices of the carving. These chapels are for the Sacred
writings and for the vestments of the priests, and are also used for
robing- and retiring-rooms for the officiants. They correspond to the
sacristies of the Catholic Churches in Europe.
The space behind the altar was of apse-like form, and opened upon a
semi-circular marble terrace, thirty feet high, with a balustrade of
the conventionalized lotus design so dear to the Chinese architects.
From this terrace we had a beautiful view of the Coal Hill, surmounted
by the curious Dagoba, so well known in all views of the Imperial City,
as well as of the belvedere that marks the spot where the last Emperor
of the Mings committed suicide when he was conquered. At the two
extremities of the terrace were charming octagonal summer-houses, where
the priests could go for rest and contemplation, and, while murmuring
their prayers, could feast their eyes upon a charming view. After a few
moments on the terrace, enjoying the beautiful view, we passed through
the cells of the monks, which were large and comfortable, and, finally,
out again into the sun-flecked shade of the marble-paved court, where
we sat under low-hanging boughs of a splendid elm, and the eunuchs
brought out tables and served us with tea and refreshments.
Then we took the boats and were rowed on further, till we came beneath
a steep battlemented wall, surmounted by the rich green of arbor-vitæ
trees. I was surprised to learn that this was another temple, for it
looked more like an old feudal castle than a peaceful temple to the
mild Buddha. We landed at the foot of the beautiful white Marble Bridge
that spans the narrow northern portion of the lake, just under the
stone wall on which the temple was built. We were carried up the steep,
winding incline in our chairs. It was a most picturesque approach, and
when we reached the top, with the beautiful temple lying peacefully on
these martial heights, we found it well worth the climb.
There was a grove of arbor-vitæ trees leading to this temple. These
trees seem to be sacred to the temples and burial-places in China, for
all I ever visited in China were either built in a grove of arbor-vitæ,
or had some of these evergreens growing near. Did the Greeks get their
idea and name of the ever-living tree from the Chinese, who regard the
arbor-vitæ as the tree of life and emblem of Immortality? This temple
has a great Buddha of white jade, with jeweled stole and cuffs. Its
expression of placid contemplation and kindly thought is typically
Chinese. When Buddhism was first brought into China from India, the
Buddhas had an Indian type; and not until the religion had taken firm
hold of the people, was its divinity clothed in a Chinese personality,
and a national individuality assumed. The day of our visit, the great
jade Buddha was decked in a mantle of Imperial yellow satin, with a
richly embroidered Manchu hood, such as I had seen that morning in
Her Majesty’s Throne-room, on its head. Tall, lighted candles, fresh
offerings of fruit and flowers, and the smoking censer standing on
the altar, showed there had been services that morning, and added
to the religious atmosphere of the interior. The service had been
a continuation of the commemorative celebrations in honor of the
Emperor’s Birthday and his sacrifice to his Ancestors.
The principal court of this temple is one of the most picturesque in
the Sea Palace, shaded by magnificent cedars and stately elms. In the
center, there was a magnificent cistern of verd-antique, splendidly
carved in dragons. Over this cistern was a marble portico, its columns
supporting a curious concave, copper roof. This roof had been a Palace
“cooking utensil,” that had been used in former times to prepare food
for the poor; hence its extraordinary size. When it was worn out in
this capacity it was used as the interior of the dome over the temple
well, where the poor and weary could come to rest under its shadow
and drink of the water of the well it protected. There were cells and
outhouses for the monks in this temple also. But as we sat in the
shady court, looking across the sunlit lake, the sky became suddenly
overcast, and we took our chairs and hurried down the steep, paved
road that led from the temple to the lake. We did not take the boats
again on reaching the lake, but were carried, in our chairs, across
the beautiful Marble Bridge. Just beyond us, we saw the towers of the
first Catholic Cathedral ever built in Peking. It was built on land
given to the Catholics by the Emperor; but, when finished, its towers
were found to overlook the Palace grounds; so the Cathedral was bought
by the Emperor, and land was given the Mission further on, and another
Cathedral was built. The first Cathedral is now within the Walls of the
Sea Palace, and is visible from every part of the grounds of the two
Peking Palaces. It seems a strange anomaly to see this Christian Church
within the Precincts of the Palace of an Oriental potentate, who is
one of the representatives on earth of the “Great Buddha.”
It began to rain, and the chair-bearers ran along to the Palace without
stopping again, and we were soon called to dinner in the Throne-room,
overlooking the small Theater, for there are two Theaters in the Sea
Palace, one for winter use and one for summer. The latter is built on
piles over the waters of a canal. Building the stage over water is
supposed to give a peculiar musical resonance to the voices of the
actors, softening the sounds and making them more pleasant to the ear.
After dinner in the beautiful summer Throne-room, with the rippling
waters just beneath the windows, we made our adieus, first to Her
Majesty and then to the young Empress and Ladies, and went out to be
again rowed over the beautiful lake to the outside gates. The sun was
setting! The arches of the Marble Bridge had become a beautiful, deep
violet hue, and spanned the waters of the lake, now a gleaming mass
of liquid gold. The sky beyond shone through the masses of foliage
with a golden glow, and the towers of the old Cathedral were strongly
silhouetted against this brilliant background. The scene was an ideal
one. A beautiful silence pervaded everything, made the more rhythmic
and intense by the regular movement of the oars in the water. When
we reached the other side of the lake we were conducted to our green
chairs, which were waiting without the gate, and were swiftly carried
back to the Legation.
CHAPTER XI
SOME CHARACTERISTICS OF HER MAJESTY--SECOND
VISIT TO THE SEA PALACE
I spent the next day at the Legation, and thoroughly enjoyed it, but I
was glad to think that I was to spend the following day at the Palace
again. The study of Her Majesty had now become to me like a thrilling
novel. I could not bear to lay it down; and when I was forced to do
so, I was longing to be able to resume it. She was such a delightful
surprise to me. I had heard and read so much of her, before I went to
the Palace, and nothing that I had heard or read had at all prepared
me for the reality, so charming, so unusual was her personality. Not
charming and interesting by fits and starts, but always so! She was so
considerate and tactful, and seemed so really kind in her relations
with those who surrounded her. I had been now nearly a month in daily
contact with her. I saw her, not only when she sat for the portrait; I
was with her the greater part of the day, and I began to let myself go
in my admiration of her. The days seemed flat and stale when I could
not see her--so full of interest and charm I found her. She was a woman
of such infinite variety! There was always something new and fresh to
study in her. She was the very embodiment of the Eternal Feminine.
She was at once a child and a woman with strong, virile qualities. She
would go into the Audience Hall, transact weighty affairs of State
for three hours, and then go for her walks or excursions, and take a
childish interest in the simplest pleasures. She would be seated in one
of her Throne-rooms in trivial conversation with her Ladies, when an
Official Despatch, in its yellow silk case, would be brought in, and
presented by the eunuch on bended knees. Her face would immediately
become full of serious interest; she would bend her brows and become
the statesman; a few moments later, when she had duly considered, and
given orders relative to the despatch, she became again the woman, full
of interest in her flowers, dresses, and jewels.
A distinguished Frenchman once said of Her Majesty the Empress Dowager,
“C’est le seul homme de la Chine,” and she deserves the appellation of
“man,” if it goes to mean superior intelligence and executive ability;
but it was not the “statesman” that I had the best opportunity of
studying. It was the woman in her private life; and I had unusual
advantages for this study, and the more I saw of her, the more
remarkable I found her! Her favors to the Ladies of the Court were very
impartially distributed. She had her favorites, but she did not allow
them to gain any supremacy over her, nor to warp her judgment. Although
her “entourage” never expressed an opinion contrary to hers, in her
presence, and though she always accepted their _expressed_ views in the
most courteous manner, one could see she was not imposed upon, and
that she knew, perfectly well, their real opinions, so great was her
natural penetration.
I was astonished to find in what veneration the Empress Dowager was
really held by the Ladies of the Court and her “entourage.” Her
favorite title, and that by which she has been longest known to the
courtiers, is, “Lao-Fo-yeh,” the “Old Buddha,” which shows that they
invest her with sacred qualities. After her return from Hsi-An Fu,
where the Court went when the allied troops occupied Peking, and where
the sacred Persons of Her Majesty and the Emperor suffered so many
hardships and endured them so bravely, the courtiers gave her another,
a closer and more affectionate appellation, “Lao-Tzu-Tzung” (The Old
Ancestress). This was the title by which she was called in the Palace,
by the Emperor, Empress, and Princesses, and by which she allowed me to
address her.
On our arrival at the Sea Palace, the day of my second visit there,
after making our bows to Her Majesty, we started, in our chairs, to
the Hall of the Mongolian Princes. This is a magnificent hall in the
northeastern part of the park, some distance away from Her Majesty’s
and the Emperor’s Palaces. It is of one story, as usual, but this
nearly forty feet high. The interior is spacious, with only a few
dragon tables and chairs and no ornaments or other furniture. There
is a raised dais at the back, with several steps leading up to it.
Upon the dais stood a splendid Throne of archaic design, and over the
Throne there are two huge tablets of black marble, with inscriptions
in Chinese and Manchu characters. This great hall is used only for
receiving the Mongolian Princes on their annual visit to Peking, when
they come in state, with hundreds of followers and retainers, to pay
homage and tribute to the Emperor of China. The rear of the hall
opens on a court surrounded by smaller buildings, which are used as
waiting-rooms for the retainers and followers of the Princes.
From this hall we were carried in our chairs along the banks of the
lake, beyond the Marble Bridge to a distant part of the grounds,
where stands the famous Dragon Wall. Most of the Chinese houses have
a sort of stone screen opposite the principal gate of entrance. This
screen, called “A Wall of Respect,” often has some sort of painted or
carved representation of a dragon, which is supposed to chase away
evil spirits. This superstition does not seem to obtain as regards
the residences of the Son of Heaven, for I never saw a dragon wall
built in front of any of the entrances to the buildings in the Palace
inclosures. Perhaps the Son of Heaven is immune from the visit of
demons, or is it that the rampant Double Dragon on everything Imperial
serves as sufficient protection to the Palace? The Dragon Wall, in the
Sea Palace, must have formed a part of some of the outside palaces or
temples which were brought into the sacred inclosure when the Emperor
Hsien-Feng decided to make it a place of residence and enlarge its
domain. Many foreigners in Peking can remember when the beautiful
Marble Bridge, of such noble proportions, of such exquisite design, now
within the Precincts, was used by the public. However it got there,
the Dragon Wall is at present within the Palace inclosure, though
in an unused part of the grounds--not in front of any “residence,”
and hence not filling its mission as a “Wall of Respect,” to keep
the wicked spirits from crossing the threshold. This Dragon Wall of
beautiful white marble is of great beauty, exquisitely carved in its
minutest details, and fine in general conception and line.
[Illustration: CHINESE ARCHITECTURE]
Her Majesty had returned from the Audience when we got back to the
Palace from our morning promenade. She was now attending to household
affairs. The eunuchs were bringing up, for her inspection, the baskets
of splendid fruits, which are daily sent into the Palace. Among others,
there was a basket of magnificent grapes. She was delighted with their
beauty, and held up one splendid bunch against the light, before she
tasted them, remarking that “the beautiful color lent an added zest
to the delicious fruit.” Her Majesty then lunched, while we joined
the Empress and Princesses on the verandah, after which we lunched
again in this beautiful Throne-room. The meals taken with the young
Empress and Ladies of the Court had now come to be gay reunions. Her
Majesty would ask us every day to lunch or dine at her table, and I
rarely took a meal in my own quarters. I had discarded the knife and
fork and was learning to use the chop-sticks. I thought them such
graceful implements when wielded by the beautiful hands of the Chinese
Ladies, that I determined to learn their use. Though I never became
an adept with them, I found these dainty implements perfectly adapted
for eating the Chinese food. They are used both in the same hand like
twin fairy wands, and seemed to me much more delicate and graceful
than a knife and fork. My efforts at using them, and my desire to try
all the new dishes, amused and pleased the Ladies. Each would give me
special tidbits from her favorite dishes; they tried to teach me the
Chinese names of the viands. My efforts at pronouncing these names,
or my giving them to the wrong dishes, sometimes raised peals of
laughter from the whole table. Her Majesty often heard the merriment,
and would ask us, when we went into her private apartments after the
meal, what had been the cause; and sometimes she would say, “What has
‘Kergunia’[4] said?”
[4] My Chinese name.
We had scarcely finished luncheon, on this my second day at the Sea
Palace, before the chairs were ordered for a promenade. It had begun
to rain, and the air was chilly; but Her Majesty had made up her mind
to have a walk at that hour, and nothing ever interfered with her
plans, in so far as she was able to carry them out. No weather, however
disagreeable or severe, ever kept her from an outdoor promenade that
she had planned. The open chairs were brought, as if the day were fine.
Her Majesty and the Empress took their seats in their yellow chairs.
Their attendant eunuchs unfurled the huge yellow umbrellas, used only
for Their Imperial Majesties and the young Empress; the second Empress
took her orange-colored chair; the Princesses and the rest of us seated
ourselves in our red chairs, and our eunuchs raised the red umbrellas
over us. Her Majesty the Empress and Princesses, clothed in the
brilliant colors daily worn, the eunuchs still wearing their richly
embroidered gala costumes, the chair-bearers still clad in the festive
red, the yellow and red chairs with the big yellow, orange, and red
umbrellas made a quaint procession, bright with color, that started off
through the courts into the gardens.
Her Majesty loves every phase of nature and every kind of weather;
but it seemed to me as if she particularly loved rain. She once said
it lent such a poetic charm to the landscape, bathing it in a soft
mystery and washing away all defects. Peking is a dry place, and rain
is a rarity, which probably accounts for this predilection. Her Majesty
was in great good humor, but her partiality for rain was not shared by
the other Ladies of the Palace, and these rainy promenades were never
indulged in by them with any great show of delight. Her Majesty likes
moving swiftly, and the chair-bearers always run when she leads the
procession. We sped along for about fifteen minutes, when the chairs
suddenly stopped. I looked to see for what reason, as we were in the
open, with no shelter anywhere near, and the rain still falling. I was
surprised to see Her Majesty was already out of her chair and walking
off toward a “gourd-arbor” at the side of the paved walk.
The gourd is much esteemed by the Chinese. It is emblematic of
Fruitfulness and Prosperity, and is a special favorite of Her
Majesty’s. Those cultivated at the Palace, and known all over China as
the “Imperial Gourd,” have long been famous; but have reached a greater
state of perfection than ever before, under the special care and
training given them during Her Majesty the Empress Dowager’s reign.
They are of one shape only, with a contracted neck and two equal parts
above and below; but they are of all sizes, from one to twelve inches,
the one-inch size being as perfect as the larger ones. They are grown
on trellises, about seven feet high, and the vines are very carefully
trained, so that each of the much-prized fruit may attain its best
development and have its proper quota of light and sun.
Her Majesty walked through the mud to the arbor. The white kid
six-inch-high soles of her shoes sank deep into the soft, rain-soaked
soil. The eunuchs made vain attempts to protect her from the rain, but
she went imperturbably on and was soon under the gourd-arbor. Here she
leisurely tried several of the gourds, to see if they were properly
ripe; for they must be pulled at a certain time or they do not dry
well. After looking at and trying a number, she had several gathered
and went back to her chair. The young Empress and the other Ladies had,
of course, got out of the chairs when Her Majesty stopped. Luckily, she
did not ask us to go into the arbor with her; but etiquette obliged
us to stand on the marble walk, which though not muddy and not so
disagreeable as the walk to the gourd-arbor, was, however, running with
water. When Her Majesty took her chair again, we resumed ours, with a
sigh of relief; for, though we were unprotected even in the chairs, we
felt the truth of the Oriental saying, “It is better to be sitting than
standing,” etc.
After another quarter of an hour, the chair-bearers stopped again. We
had come to another gourd-arbor! Her Majesty got out of her chair
and examined the gourds in this arbor with the same deliberation and
interest as she had looked at those where we first stopped. The rain
was now falling in torrents, but Her Majesty’s spirits seemed to go
up in proportion to its coming down. The Ladies were again obliged
to get out of their chairs! They stood in two dejected lines, with
the eunuchs holding, as best they might, the red umbrellas over
each, and they vainly tried to keep up an appearance of interest
and enjoyment. The brave finery of the eunuchs, who may not carry
umbrellas when on service, was now hanging in limp folds about them,
and their fine feathers were much bedraggled. The Chinese Ladies had
their two-inch-high, kid-covered cork soles to protect their feet from
the water; but mine, in thin kid slippers, were soaking. The picture
of the dejected Ladies, the rain-soaked eunuchs, was, however, so
amusing, that I quite forgot my own discomfort and thoroughly enjoyed
the situation. After another twenty minutes’ run, with the rain still
falling, Her Majesty gave the word and the procession turned toward the
Hall of the Mongolian Princes. The great doors were thrown open, and we
were, at last, under shelter.
A yellow chair was placed for Her Majesty in front of the dais, and she
had some of the gourds she had gathered brought to her. She selected
one for herself, gave one to her principal Lady-in-waiting, Sih-Gerga,
and handed one to the Chief Eunuch Li--the Princess and the Chief
Eunuch both being proficient in the art of scraping them. A sharpened
piece of bamboo was brought to Her Majesty and she began to work on
the gourd she had taken, scraping off the outer skin. She told me to
stand near and watch her scrape it, as it was a very difficult thing
to do well! She certainly did it well, and it was most interesting to
watch her beautiful little hands, as they gracefully moved the piece
of bamboo back and forth, quickly removing the outer skin, in the most
approved way. Though apparently thoroughly interested in scraping her
gourd, she asked me how I had enjoyed my promenade of the day before,
and what I thought of the Sea Palace. She called my attention to the
inscriptions on the tablets behind the Throne, saying they were in
Manchu and Chinese characters, pointing out their difference of form
and also speaking of the differences in the two languages. She said she
thought Manchu would be easier for a foreigner to learn than Chinese,
as Manchu has an alphabet and is constructed more on the lines of a
European language. Presently Her Majesty turned to speak to some one
else, and I immediately withdrew, as is the custom at the Palace. We
went out and joined the Empress and Princesses, who had already retired
from the Throne-room and were having tea and cigarettes reclining on
the couches in one of the rooms in the rear. After an hour’s rest in
the Mongolian Hall, the rain having ceased, we continued our promenade
through the grounds much more pleasantly than we had begun it, and Her
Majesty took me for a walk in the Gardens of the Sea Palace, as she had
promised.
After dinner, we were rowed over the lake to the Gates. Just beyond
them a company of archers was practising with their bows and arrows;
for archery is still in vogue in China, and fine marksmanship among the
archers is rewarded by substantial advancement in the army. Archery is
also practised as a sport by the young Manchu nobles. It is said to
educate the eye and materially develop the chest and arms. The Chinese
pay great attention to position in archery. They stand stiffly erect,
the chest thrown well forward, the head held high, the bow and arrow
at rigidly prescribed angles; and if this position be not observed,
however true the flight of the arrow, it goes for naught. From the
shelter of my chair, I watched the company’s practice until I heard
the “Sunset call” resounding through the Palace grounds; echoed and
reëchoed until it reached the outer gates, which began to move upon
their huge hinges until they clanged together for the night.
CHAPTER XII
RETURN TO THE SUMMER PALACE
The next day the Court returned to the Summer Palace. The festivities
and sacrifices in connection with the Emperor’s Birthday being now over
and the Court settled down to its usual routine, I hoped I might be
allowed to go regularly to work on the portrait, and that Her Majesty
would allow me to paint when she was not posing. There was much I could
do between times, and she could pose but for a short time each day. Up
to that time, Her Majesty had treated me as a guest at Court, whose
amusement was the most important thing to be looked after. She seemed
much interested in the work, but my painting was an incident and even
the “Sacred Picture” a secondary consideration. All these walks, these
delightful excursions, were perfectly charming, and, had I gone to the
Palace to enjoy myself, or to study Her Majesty and Chinese manners and
customs, I would have been perfectly satisfied. I had, in the Empress
Dowager, a psychological study full of ever varying and constant
interest. I was living through a unique experience, seeing what I could
never hope to see again, but I was not allowed to paint on the portrait
as much as I should have liked. Could I but have had permission to
work more, I should have been very happy. Had I been able to speak
Chinese well enough, I felt I would obtain what I desired; she had
shown herself so uniformly kind. She probably felt I was enjoying
myself more in this way than working at my painting.
While I thoroughly enjoyed the promenades with Her Majesty, I loved the
daily sittings. Every portrait painter knows the sort of intimacy that
establishes itself between him and his sitter, however unsympathetic
the latter may be at first sight, which was certainly not the case in
this instance. The effort of the painter to get under the exterior and
discover the real person of his sitter; the desire to see the best side
and make the most of it, meets generally with a sympathetic response.
If the “rapport” is properly established, they get to know each other
better by the time the portrait is finished than they could otherwise
have done, perhaps in years. Though I saw Her Majesty so intimately at
other times, I felt I was not seeing her “face to face” (figuratively
speaking), except at the sittings.
[Illustration: ON THE ROAD FROM PEKING TO THE SUMMER PALACE]
The morning after our return to the Summer Palace, my easel was again
placed in the Throne-room. The portrait was taken down from its
resting-place and work resumed. Her Majesty gave me a long sitting,
and the portrait made a step ahead. If I had only had a place to work
alone, where I might study the picture, when she was not posing, I
could have made so many improvements! But I was obliged to possess my
soul in patience, and work along for the short space of an hour or so a
day and stop the moment Her Majesty felt fatigued, when my brushes and
palette were whisked away, as if by magic. There was no chance to study
the portrait or to do anything, except when the Empress Dowager and the
crowd of attendants were present.
I had taken to the Palace only a small folding easel, which was not
at all suitable for regular work on so large a portrait, but it was
impossible to get a better one in Peking. Her Majesty, who observed
everything, noticed that it was not convenient, and suggested that I
draw a design for a large easel and give it to the Palace carpenters to
copy. She thought they would be able to make me one. I did so, and they
made me a very satisfactory working easel. When the eunuchs found that
this Palace easel suited me, five others of different sizes were made.
I asked for what reason, and was told that everything for Her Majesty
was made in sixes. It would have been establishing a precedent, making
an innovation, to have fewer than six easels for her portrait.
Her Majesty also ordered some large flat boxes, with lock and key, to
be made for my materials. These boxes were covered in yellow, for they
were to be used for the Sacred Picture, and must be in the Imperial
color. I forgot to say the six easels had all been stained a bright
yellow! A table, surmounted by one of these yellow boxes, occupied a
prominent place in the Throne-room during the whole time this portrait
was being painted. When I finished painting each day, the Chief Eunuch,
himself, removed the picture from the easel, and a number of others
came and took my brushes and palette, put away the easel and closed
the yellow box and locked it. Our head eunuch carried the key to the
box.
When the afternoon sitting was finished, we went out for another of
those delightful promenades around the grounds. The days were now
growing visibly shorter, and the evenings were beginning to be cool. As
we went through the gardens, Her Majesty stopped at all her favorite
points and looked for a few moments at the view, as if to greet it
again, after her absence. She loved the Summer Palace and it always
seemed a pleasure to her to return to it. We had tea in one of the
tea-houses where there were tables and seats. She ordered the eunuchs
to make a sort of blanc-mange of lotus-root flour, which was delicious,
and, as she said, most wholesome. When the Empress Dowager goes for a
walk, portable stoves and all the paraphernalia necessary for cooking a
light repast are taken along. It seemed wonderful to me to see the way
the Chinese could cook, with apparently so few conveniences. After this
we had tea. The finest tea in China is sent to the Palace. The first
leaves of the plantations all over the Great Empire are reserved for
Their Majesties. Her Majesty, who is a great epicure, has her choice
of these chosen leaves. She adds to the delicacy of its already fine
flavor by putting into her tea-cup the blooms of dried honeysuckle,
the flowers of jasmine, or other fragrant blooms. The honey from these
flowers slightly sweetens the tea, besides giving it a delicate, subtle
flavor, quite unique. These dried blooms are brought in a jade bowl,
with two long cherry sticks, with which Her Majesty takes the flowers
and places them in her cup, stirring them into the tea with these
graceful wands. The Chinese never use a teaspoon. Her Majesty drinks
her tea from a jade cup, which is placed in a curiously fashioned,
cunningly wrought, open-work, silver saucer. The Chinese take their tea
boiling hot, and the jade does not get so hot as a porcelain cup.
We continued our walk through the gardens after leaving the tea-house,
and when we were passing a bed of flowers Her Majesty spied some
curious grass, which she ordered the eunuchs to gather. When it was
brought to her she deftly wove several blades of it into a perfectly
recognizable representation of a rabbit. She did it so quickly I did
not realize she was trying to make anything until she tossed the
finished result over to me and asked me what I thought it was. It was
unmistakable.
When we reached our objective point, one of the highest eminences in
the grounds, with the whole panorama of the Western Hills spread out
beneath us, and the setting sun glowing over all in brilliant splendor,
it was a glorious scene. She called me up to her side and made a
graceful, sweeping gesture of the hand that said, “This is all mine,
but you may share it with me.” She had that sense of possession of
nature’s beauties which all artistic souls feel, for their appreciation
makes what they view their own. She felt it was hers, because she loved
it so, and she knew I would appreciate it, which few of her “entourage”
did, as none of them were such passionate lovers of nature as the
Empress Dowager, and custom had dulled their perception of the beauty
of the scene. The exquisite pleasure the contemplation of this glorious
view gave me, made me tremble with delight. As the day was fading and
as I was thinly clad, Her Majesty thought I was cold, and, seeing I had
no wrap, she called to the Chief Eunuch to bring me one of hers. He
selected one from the number that were always brought along for these
promenades, and gave it to Her Majesty, who threw it over my shoulders.
She asked me to keep it and to try to remember to take better care of
myself in the future.
CHAPTER XIII
THE STEAM-LAUNCH--SEMI-ANNUAL SACRIFICES TO
CONFUCIUS
We began now to go out on the lake in the steam-launches, instead of
the picturesque Imperial barge. The Empress Dowager is artistic and
conservative enough to like the old-fashioned barge; but she is also
intelligent enough to appreciate the advantages of other modes of
locomotion, and has no prejudices; in fact, she rather likes trying
new things. When the days were long, the air soft, and the bosom of
the lake engirdled with its chain of blooming lotus, she preferred the
barge; but when the shorter and cooler days came, when the lotus were
no longer in bloom, she ordered the steam-launch for our promenades.
She seemed now to like its swift and noisy progress as much as she had
before enjoyed the softly gliding motion of the barge. Her Throne on
the launch was on the prow, just outside and above the cabin, where the
Princesses and Ladies sat. Her Majesty always wanted the fresh air and
the view, and never went inside. The young Empress and the Ladies sat
within the luxuriously fitted up cabin with its lounges and tables.
The first day we went out in the launch the engineer seemed not to
have it quite under control, and we soon ran aground in a field of
water-plants near the island. There was great consternation among
the eunuchs when it was found the launch could not advance, even by
putting on full steam. The engineer didn’t seem to know what to do. Her
Majesty ordered the engines reversed, and this was tried, but it was
some time before the launch moved. The Princesses and eunuchs became
quite excited, but Her Majesty was perfectly unconcerned, and laughed
at their fears for her safety. She said it would be no great matter for
her to walk over to the island. It would only mean one pair of shoes
the less! When the launch finally moved, the Chief Eunuch, not wishing
to run the risk of another mishap, wanted to give word to the engineer
to return; but Her Majesty would not hear of this, and insisted upon
completing the excursion as she had at first planned it. We had several
other mishaps, and the launch finally ran aground; and no effort of the
engineers, no putting on of extra steam, was able to get us off again.
Her Majesty kept her good humor, ordered her barge brought alongside,
and we were all “transshipped.” We finished our tour on the lake as
she had planned it, but in the barge instead of the launch. She is too
intelligent not to use any means at hand to attain her ends, and she
is intelligent enough to see that these ends can be attained, by some
means or other, before she fixes upon them.
The Emperor of China, with the usual Chinese tolerance,--and the
Chinese are the most tolerant people in the world as to religious
faith,--is not only the head of one church, but of all the churches
in China. He is, as Emperor, the Great High Priest of Heaven, the High
Priest of Buddhism and Taoism, and is, of course, a Confucian; though
this is a philosophy rather than a religion. But though a philosophy,
there are certain rites and ceremonies observed by the Confucians.
All the great ceremonies of the different cults are celebrated in the
Palace temples with rigid impartiality and equal pomp. Whatever may be
the individual leanings of the Emperor, and, of course, he must have
his own preferences, he participates in each of these celebrations. But
his official, public exercise of religion, is limited to the worship
of Heaven and Earth, to which he makes annual public sacrifices in the
Great Temple of Heaven at Peking.
The afternoon of our first steam-launch excursion, finished in Her
Majesty’s barge, there was a splendid ceremony in the chapel at
the foot of the hill crowned with the Temple of the Ten Thousand
Buddhas, to the memory of Confucius, the great Sage, whose philosophy
has directed the lives and laws of the Chinese people for nearly
twenty-five hundred years. Though a philosopher like Plato, he is
appreciated and his teachings followed by the masses, as well as
the classes, in China. He is not a religious leader but an ethical
teacher, and though many temples have been erected to his memory, they
are like Halls of Science and not temples to a divinity. There are no
images either of Confucius or the Sages in these temples. They are
classic halls, bare of all church-like ornamentation. Quotations from
the “analects,” painted on scrolls, cut into wood, and carved out of
stone, adorn the walls, not only of the interiors of the temples, but
of the courts and verandahs of the buildings. At the place where the
altar would be in a temple, there is a plain niche, painted in red
with a tablet bearing an inscription in gold, “The Seat of the Perfect
One.” On either side are similar niches, containing the tablets of four
other great Sages, among whom was Mencius. These semi-annual sacrifices
are in commemoration of Confucius as an ethical teacher, a wise
philosopher, a Sage. At this service in the Palace, the participants
and celebrants were all in full Court dress. There was an address to
the memory of the great Sage, with music and hymns; the latter were
rhythmic verses, containing some truth inculcated by the Sage. There
was an altar with a dragon table in front for offerings. There were
sacrifices, incense, and music. The altar was rich with splendid vases,
rare old bronze bowls, and incense-burners, and sweet with flowers
and fruit. On the dragon table, which stood in front, were offerings
of millet, meat, and wine. Tall cressets of open iron-work containing
huge, burning pine-knots were placed in front of the raised platform,
on which stood the altar, which was beautifully illuminated with tall
candles in square, silver candelabra. The court in front of this
temple, as well as the surrounding buildings, were hung with charming
painted lanterns.
Their Majesties, with the Empress and Ladies, preceded and surrounded
by eunuchs and officials, in full Court dress, went in ceremonious
procession through the verandahed corridors, from Her Majesty’s
Throne-room to the temple. Their approach was accompanied by the slow
beating of drums. When they reached the temple, three yellow cushions
were placed on the paved floor for Their Majesties and the Empress, and
red cushions for the Ladies. The music was played in rhythmic strains,
while Their Majesties knelt and prostrated themselves three times; the
Empress and Ladies doing likewise. The officials and other participants
knelt outside in the court. When the prostrations were finished, a
yellow chair was brought for the Empress Dowager. She sat during the
rest of the service, but the Emperor, the Empress, and Ladies remained
standing during the whole celebration. This consisted of a number of
genuflexions and prostrations by the celebrants, and a moving about
of the offerings on the dragon table in a ceremonious and reverent
manner. The chief officiant read the address from a long scroll. After
finishing it, he placed it on a casket on the altar. The first part
of the ceremony took place inside the temple, then the celebrants
went out into the court and intoned the six hymns and made renewed
prostrations. I was not able to understand enough of the hymns, or to
get them sufficiently translated to make out their meaning. They were
all of uniform length. They were in praise of Confucius and were called
“Odes to Peace.” When all the verses were intoned, the scroll with the
address, some of each of the offerings, were placed in the huge iron
incense-burner, that stood in the center of the outer court, and set on
fire by the chief celebrant, while one of the several flagons of wine
that had made part of the offerings was poured over the blaze.
I had not expected to enter the temple with Their Majesties and the
Ladies, but when we reached the door, the Empress drew me in with her.
They seemed to realize that I enjoyed seeing these celebrations and to
perfectly understand my not taking any active part in them. I always
remained standing, but I listened reverently to the intoning of the
hymns and the reading of the address. I conducted myself as I would at
any religious ceremony, and they seemed to appreciate it.
When all was finished, Her Majesty told me to go up to the altar and
examine the rare, old, bronze ornaments, the candelabra, etc. They
explained to me that the address, which had been read, was burned,
as it had filled its mission when it was read; that the ashes of a
literary essay were a most fitting offering to the memory of Confucius,
the great philosopher. When all was over, Their Majesties ordered the
boats to come to the foot of the terrace, where the last part of the
celebration had been made, and we returned to the Palace by way of the
lake.
CHAPTER XIV
THE PALACE EUNUCHS
The internal affairs of the Palace are managed by eunuchs, among
whom there are all grades, all sorts and conditions. Some are clever
literati given to study; some have the polished, insinuating manners
of the courtier; some have a Mandarin rank of high degree; some are
menials. There are actors and singers, cooks and gardeners, teachers
and pupils, writers and readers. They occupy all sorts of positions,
from Their Majesties’ body-guard to gate-keepers. In this hierarchy,
Their Majesties’ Chief Eunuchs held the first place. Under each of
these there are six eunuchs of high rank, all exceptionally clever, who
have raised themselves to the positions they occupy in the Palace by
their own efforts or by some special qualification.
Each of the hundreds of pavilions and palaces in the inclosures has a
corps of eunuchs, presided over by a head eunuch. These act as guards
to the premises, as well as servants, and keep things in readiness
for a visit from Their Majesties. There is a head eunuch who directs
the large corps of Palace gardeners; another who presides over the
dozens of cooks in the Imperial kitchen; one is at the head of each
of the departments, and each of these head eunuchs, chiefs of the
different departments, is under the jurisdiction of the Chief Eunuch,
for Her Majesty’s Chief Eunuch may be called the real Chief Eunuch
of the Palace. He is not only older than the Emperor’s Chief Eunuch,
but is more capable. The two Chief Eunuchs, from their position near
the sacred persons of Their Majesties, have unusual power. They may
make or mar the career of the eunuchs beneath them; and they not only
have this power inside the Palace, but from their exceptionally fine
opportunities to present petitions, to speak for or against certain
people, they also have a great deal of power with people outside the
Palace. Her Majesty’s Chief Eunuch has almost the power in Peking,
among officials and courtiers, that “Son Eminence Grise” had at the
Court of Louis XIII of France. He is courted and fawned upon, receives
magnificent presents, and nobles of high degree wait upon his pleasure;
but while he occupies this high position with outsiders, in the Palace
I saw no evidence of his having any unusual power with Her Majesty,
beyond that of one who has been in the life-long service of his master
and who has the privileges resulting therefrom.
The peculiar position of a Chinese Emperor, which shuts him in his
Palace like a Buddha in a temple, makes some sort of confidential
private messenger an absolute necessity. There is much business of an
unofficial kind, which must be transacted in a private way. The Chief
Eunuchs are naturally called upon in such cases. When the Ruler of
the Celestial Empire is a woman, the Palace becomes more of a gilded
prison, a shut-in shrine, than even in the case of an Emperor. She
cannot see officials, or even members of the Imperial clan, except in
the Audience Halls. Thus a Chief Eunuch under an Empress would have
even greater power than under an Emperor; and in this instance, Her
Majesty’s Chief Eunuch, Li Lien Ying, is really of exceptional ability!
In person he is tall and thin. His head is, in type, like Savonarola’s.
He has a Roman nose, a massive lean jaw, a protruding lower lip, and
very shrewd eyes, full of intelligence, that shine out of sunken
orbits. His face is much wrinkled and his skin like old parchment.
Though only sixty years old, he looks seventy-five, and is the oldest
eunuch in the Palace. He has been there since the age of ten. He has
elegant, insinuating manners, speaks excellent Chinese--having a fine
enunciation, a good choice of words, and a low, pleasant voice. If one
may judge from appearances, he possesses ability in a marked degree.
Of His Majesty’s Chief Eunuch I can say nothing. I only saw him on the
days of the Theater, or some festival, when His Majesty passed the day
with the Empress Dowager and the Ladies, when he was always accompanied
by his suite.
Her Majesty’s second eunuch, Sui, who is of equal rank with Li Lien
Ying, is as unlike him as two people could possibly be, both as to
person, character, mental and moral nature. This one has none of
the qualities of the intriguer--no Machiavellian schemes would be
forwarded by him. He is almost a giant in size, tall and heavy. He is
forty-six years old, and has a round, full face, without a line--a
typical Chinese face, as we know it from pictures, benevolent and
kind. He, also, is a good Chinese scholar, and, of course, speaks it
elegantly. Her Majesty will have no one around her person who does
not speak it well. If it be true that Her Majesty, in choosing her
ministers, tries to have them the opposites of each other, so that she
may thus hear the different sides of a question and arrive at more just
conclusions, her two Chief Eunuchs seem to have been chosen in the same
way.
There is a eunuch appointed to administer the punishment, ordered by
Their Majesties for the eunuchs around their persons. For the higher
eunuchs, this is generally the deprivation of a certain amount of their
annual wages, or the loss of their buttons, for the buttons on the hats
of Chinese denote their rank, and to be deprived of a button, or to
have one of lower rank given, is considered a disgrace. I once saw Her
Majesty very angry over the failure to carry out one of her orders, by
two of the high eunuchs, and she ordered them to be deprived of two
months’ pay. The head eunuchs of the different departments administer
whatever punishment they see fit, to those over whom they are placed.
This punishment is generally corporal. Sometimes they abuse their
authority and are very cruel in administering this, but, as a rule,
the eunuchs seem to be of a mild and peace-loving nature, rather than
cruel and vindictive--inclined to condone the faults of their inferiors
rather than punish them to the full extent of their authority. There
seemed to be a feeling of “esprit de corps” among them--a spirit of
mutual helpfulness.
Each of the higher eunuchs has a number of pupils among the lower
grades, who call him “Master,” and whom he trains in manners and
teaches his own specialties. The higher eunuchs seemed to take the
liveliest interest in the good conduct, and literary, or other,
advancement of these pupils, and they push their interests with Their
Majesties in every way possible--each one, of course, trying to advance
his pupils beyond those of some other eunuch.
Her Majesty has a great horror of opium smoking. If a eunuch, however
high his position, indulged in it, the severest punishments she ever
ordered were administered. They were not only deprived of so many
months’ pay and loss of their buttons, but were sometimes banished
from the Palace for a certain length of time, and even severe corporal
punishment would be ordered. These stringent measures did not prevent
some of them, however, from indulging surreptitiously in the narcotic,
but they took the most extreme precautions to prevent its being found
out. Her Majesty has unusually acute olfactories, especially for opium.
This, it seems, can be detected by its odor, which hangs around the
clothes, and, like the odor of the rose, one “can break the vase, it
lingers there still.” But it seems the eunuchs have special linen
clothes, which they put on for smoking, and these are given to be
washed, immediately the fascinating pipe is finished. Unless one is an
habitual smoker, the drug has very little outward effect and, except by
the odor, it cannot be detected.
The eunuchs are very fond of all sorts of pets, and have in their
quarters dogs without number, cats and birds. While the younger eunuchs
generally depend for their advancement upon their teachers, who report
favorably on them to Their Majesties, they sometimes attract the
attention of Their Majesties, and may be raised out of their places by
Imperial favor. Among the eunuchs assigned to my service in the Palace,
was one who was fortunate enough to attract the Emperor’s notice. His
Majesty had happened to notice him, carrying my wraps on one of the
promenades with Her Majesty. He liked his face and manners and took
him into his own service. The eunuch had a “button” bestowed on him
and promised to mount very fast in grade. This eunuch had been in the
Palace about fifteen years; and had His Majesty not happened to notice
him, he might have lived and died in oblivion, and never had a button,
for his “master” was dead and he had no protector to push his interests!
When one realizes that the Palaces of the Chinese Emperor are like
towns, that their affairs are administered principally by the eunuchs,
one can see there must be a good deal of intelligence among them, as
well as great opportunities to add to their personal wealth.
I heard, before I went into the Palace, of the great power and
unscrupulousness of the Chief Eunuchs; that it would be necessary to be
very conciliatory toward them and make them many handsome presents. I
did not find it so. I never made an effort to conciliate any of them,
nor gave any handsome presents, and I found them all respectful, and I
had every consideration shown me by them, and found them, on the whole,
pleasant enough to deal with. Some of them were clever and interesting
even, and they all had very good manners. In fact, I cannot too highly
praise the manners of the Chinese, as a race. I quite concur in the
opinion of a clever Frenchman, who said of China, “Aujourd’hui c’est là
où les bonnes manières se sont refugiées.”
CHAPTER XV
THE LITERARY TASTES AND ACCOMPLISHMENTS OF THE
EMPRESS DOWAGER
When Her Majesty the Empress Dowager was Empress of the Western Palace,
Co-Regent with the Empress of the Eastern Palace, who died in 1881,
the Empress of the Eastern Palace was known as the “Literary Empress.”
All State affairs were left to the stronger executive ability of the
Empress of the Western Palace; while she of the Eastern Palace gave
herself up to literary pursuits and led the life of a student. She was
a woman of such fine literary ability that she, herself, sometimes
examined the essays of the aspirants for the highest literary honors in
the University of Peking. She was also a writer of distinction.
During the long Co-Regency of these two remarkable women, widows of
the Emperor Hsien-Feng, one led the life of a student; the other, the
active, militant life of the ruler. For the present Empress Dowager
has been the real ruler of the great Chinese Empire for the last
forty-five years. Had the Empress of the Eastern Palace not been such
an exceptional light as a literary woman and had not Her Majesty,
Tze-Hsi, possessed so many other and more remarkable qualities, the
latter’s name might also go down to history as a “literary Empress,”
for the Empress Dowager has literary qualities of no mean kind. She
writes a graceful poem, is able to express herself in elegant Chinese,
as well as in the ruder, more forcible Manchu language. She can
write in literary style, fine idiomatic Chinese, and this is a rare
accomplishment for a woman. The written Chinese language is quite
different from that spoken by even the most cultivated. Imagery and
figure abound to such a degree, literary form is so important, that
many fine scholars are unable to write the language acceptably, except
for practical purposes. Aside from Her Majesty’s literary acquirements,
she has an enlightened taste, is a great reader of the classics, and
a fine critic. She also loves poems of heroic adventure. One of her
favorite historical characters is the Chinese Jeanne d’Arc, the warlike
Maiden, Whar-Mou-Lahn, who went forth to battle in masculine guise, had
many heroic adventures in her twelve years’ service, and, through them
all, remained a virgin pure.
The Empress Dowager has a wonderful verbal memory. Memory, so highly
esteemed by the Chinese, is most carefully cultivated, and is generally
better developed with them than with us. Her Majesty’s memory is,
however, considered exceptional, even among the Chinese. She can repeat
pages, not only of the classics, but of her favorite authors. One of
the widows of her son (the Emperor Tung-Chih), who came regularly every
week to pay her respects to Her Majesty, is a very clever woman and a
great favorite of her august mother-in-law. This lady also possesses
a remarkable memory. On her visits to the Palace I used to hear Her
Majesty and this Empress quoting from some of their favorite classics
or poems. The quotations would pass from one to another, sometimes
for a half-hour without stopping, and, at times, they would repeat in
concert some favorite phrase. I will never forget how they looked: Her
Majesty sitting at her Throne-table with her flowers or some light
occupation, her daughter-in-law standing beside her, each of their
faces lighted up with pleasure as they repeated line after line.
When the Empress Dowager went to her own apartments for her “siesta,”
her reader would come bringing volumes of her favorite authors. Some
days I could hear his voice rising and falling in regular cadence
during the whole time she was resting in her apartments. When she was
particularly interested in what had been read to her she would have the
book taken out when she went for her daily promenade and would sit and
read as she was carried along in her open chair, or was rowed along on
the barge. This did not often happen, however, for she took such keen
delight in all its manifestations, she preferred to read in Nature’s
book when out-of-doors.
She is a great lover of the theater and prefers the classic, the old
plays, to the modern Chinese drama. She had one new play staged, while
I was in the Palace, with which she seemed to be much pleased. She
studied the play for several days before it was given for the first
time, and, at the first representation, she followed every line with
intense interest. She sent her eunuchs several times to the stage
to suggest changes in the rendering of certain parts and in the
interpretation of certain lines. The Theater generally begins with
a short play, which is often a light farce. She seemed sometimes to
enjoy these very much and would laugh heartily at the good hits, which
were often original additions by the actors, allusions to some passing
event. Contrary to my preconceived idea as to the Chinese, they are
witty and appreciate humor in others. The Empress Dowager has a fine
sense of humor. She not only sees the point of a joke, but she can turn
one very cleverly herself.
She is very particular about the way Chinese is spoken, a great
stickler for purity of expression and elegance of style. There are as
many dialects in China as there are Provinces in the Great Empire;
and although the literati and gentry speak, what is called Mandarin
Chinese, some of the most highly educated of the literati from the
Provinces speak it with an accent. Her Majesty, who has a musical ear
and great discernment as to sounds, gets very impatient when listening
to Chinese spoken with an accent. It is said, other things being
not quite equal, she will give the preference, in an appointment,
to an official who speaks perfect Chinese and who has a good voice,
especially if his office brings him often into the Presence. However,
particular as she is, bad Chinese in a man of merit is not a bar to
advancement, for Li-Hung-Chang, whom she appreciated so highly, and to
whom she gave such preferment, is said to have spoken very indifferent
Chinese.
Whether it be, that Her Majesty’s musical and exquisitely modulated
voice, so fresh and silvery, so youthful, adds to the charm of her
Chinese, when she speaks it, it sounds like beautiful rhythmic poetry.
She speaks it so graphically, with such expression and graceful
gestures, that it charms one even who does not understand the language.
One day when she was out for a walk, one of the directors of the
gardeners was brought up to explain something to her, some change in
the laying out of new flower beds. She listened a few moments, but
I saw her frown and begin to look impatient. After a few more words
from the poor man, who was evidently overcome by timidity and probably
speaking worse Chinese than usual, Her Majesty turned to the Chief
Eunuch and said, “Let him tell you and you can translate to me; I can’t
stand any more of that language,” and she walked away, still frowning.
Another day, I heard the Empress Dowager tell one of the Ladies at
Court (her daughter-in-law), who was also a great purist in the matter
of language, about her own Chinese having been misunderstood by one
of the eunuchs. There are many Chinese words almost exactly alike in
sound, which are only differentiated by the inflection or tone. Thus
there must be great accuracy of enunciation, and there must also be
great accuracy of ear. Her Majesty had given an order to one of the
eunuchs. The stupid fellow had misunderstood the inflection and had
done the exact opposite. She was so amused and astonished, when she
found that _her_ tone had been misunderstood, that she did not reprove
him for his stupidity.
One day, she corrected one of the Princesses for the pronunciation of
a word, and she said (in an aside) it was not strange this Princess
did not speak better, for her father’s Chinese was “execrable,” thus
showing that even Princes do not always speak the language correctly.
One of the most precious gifts the Empress Dowager makes, and which is
sacredly treasured by its recipients, is a scroll with a single great
character written upon it by Her Majesty’s own hand. This is considered
one of the most difficult feats of a Chinese writer. These characters
are sometimes four feet long. One day we were invited to go into the
Throne-room to see Her Majesty make some of these characters. When
I went into the Great Hall, Her Majesty and the Ladies were already
there. She was stirring a great bowl of India ink, for she is very
particular as to its consistency and fluidity. When the ink suited
her, she took from a eunuch standing near, who held a number, a huge
short-handled brush, which she could hardly clasp in her small hand.
She tried two or three, before she found one that pleased her, and,
turning to me, said, “You see I also have my choice in brushes.” I
asked Lady Yu-Keng to tell her that I thought her large brushes were
more suitable for my hands and that my smaller ones would have been
more appropriate for her. She laughingly replied she preferred the
Chinese brush, and that her hands, small as they were, were able to
wield it very satisfactorily, which was no vain boast.
When all was ready, and the huge scroll spread out before her on a
table, she dipped her brush into the bowl of ink, held by the eunuch,
and began the first stroke of one of these famous characters, in which
she is said to equal the most proficient writers in China. I was amazed
to see the firmness of her wrist and the beautiful clearness of her
stroke, which deviated not a hair’s breadth from the line she wished
to follow. She made six great characters on six of the scrolls. These
characters meant “Peace,” “Prosperity,” “Longevity,” etc. When she had
finished these, she said she feared her hand had no longer the firmness
necessary for doing another.
While she was writing, the young Empress, the Princesses, and the
eunuchs stood around, watching her with intense interest. They seemed
to take great pride in her firmness of touch and her accuracy of line.
The Chinese written character must be made in a certain way. It must
begin at a given part. The strokes must follow a given direction. The
transversal strokes must be placed with mathematical precision. Nothing
is left to the caprice or individuality of the writer. Any one, knowing
the Chinese written characters, can tell you whether these complicated
hieroglyphs were begun at the proper place or made in the proper way.
They may look perfectly correct to the uninitiated observer who has a
most accurate eye, and still not be so considered by the connoisseur.
[Illustration: THE EMPRESS DOWAGER WRITING A “GREAT CHARACTER”]
The firmness of Her Majesty’s touch is also very apparent in her
painting, for she is very artistic, and paints flowers in a charming
way; in fact, she is remarkably clever with her fingers. She does not
embroider now, as she formerly did, nor does she paint so much, for she
says her eyes are not so good as they were, though she does not and has
never worn glasses. There are a great number of artificial flowers
made in the Palace, as no Manchu lady’s coiffure is considered complete
without flowers. Her Majesty is very particular about the way these
flowers are made, and when they were brought to her for inspection,
with a deft touch she would give a defective flower the required form.
She often makes new designs for the flowers, having them woven into
quaint figures, or having a number of small blooms made into a
representation of some large flower. She sometimes had her diadem made
of the snowy blooms of the fragrant jasmine, set with leaves and other
small flowers, representing jewels, and she would wear this instead of
her real jewels.
She is a great believer in one of the rules that Confucius lays down
for the attainment of “Illustrious Virtue”; she “cultivates her
person.” She is always immaculately neat. She designs her own dresses,
and has her jewels set according to her own directions. She is very
artistic in the arrangement of her flowers and jewels, and sees that
they harmonize with her toilet. She has excellent taste in the choice
of colors, and I never saw her with an unbecoming color on, except the
Imperial yellow. This was not becoming, but she was obliged to wear it
on all official occasions. She used to modify it, as much as possible,
by the trimmings, and would sometimes have it so heavily embroidered
that the original color was hardly visible.
She is a great epicure, and often designs new and dainty dishes. She
has perfumes and soaps for her own use, made in the Palace. Although
there are quantities of French and German soaps and perfumes bought for
the Palace, she prefers an almond paste that she has made and often
uses the soap made in the Palace. The maids would make these under her
supervision. I have frequently seen them bring the mortar in which they
were stirring it to Her Majesty, that she might see its progress, and
she would energetically stir it herself. She is also a great lover of
perfumes, and herself combines the oils of different flowers so as to
produce most subtle and delightful perfumes. The Chinese say “colors,
odors, and perfumes are good for the soul.” The Empress Dowager’s soul
was certainly well cared for in this respect.
The Chinese are so near to nature, so simple in every way, that their
influence over animals and birds is extraordinary, and seems to us
almost magical. They are very fond of all animals, and especially so
of birds. They train and teach these latter in wonderful ways. I have
often seen a Chinese go near a singing bird’s cage and tell it to sing,
and it would pour forth its little heart in melody. Birds never seem
to have any fear of them. In the afternoons, in early spring, or on a
fine day in winter, one may see hundreds of well-dressed and dignified
men each carrying a covered bird cage, taking the birds out for the
air. When they arrive at some open space in the city, or beautiful
spot in the environs, they uncover the cages and hold them aloft, or
simply sit with them on their knees, and the bird will sing as if its
little throat would burst. They have absolutely no fear, and, though
caged, seem to have a perfect understanding with their owners and obey
their voices. They are often let out of the cages when taken out for
exercise, but they will return to them at the call of their owners; and
these birds are not hatched in cages--they are taken from the forests
and trained.
Two of the religious precepts of the Chinese--“Hurt no living thing,”
“Protect all living things”--are carried so far, they will allow an
animal to live in misery rather than put him out of it by a speedy
death. They love all animals and fear none. They say if you do not
attack an animal, however dangerous he is, he will not harm you.
The Empress Dowager seemed also to possess this almost magical power
over animals. Her dogs never paid the slightest attention but to her
voice, and would obey her slightest gesture; but, fond as she was of
them, she rarely caressed them; and she was so particular about her
hands that, when she did stroke or fondle one of her pets, she would
immediately after have a cloth wrung out of hot water brought to wipe
her fingers. I never saw a dog in her arms but once, and this was a
puppy which she took a fancy to when visiting her kennels one day, and
she brought him back to the Throne-room in her arms and played with him
for some time.
On one of our promenades in the park I saw a curious instance of her
wonderful personal magnetism and her power over animals. A bird had
escaped from its cage, and some eunuchs were making efforts to catch
it, when Her Majesty and suite came into that part of the grounds.
The eunuchs had found it impossible to entice the bird back into its
cage; nor would it come upon a long stick with a perch attached, which
they held up near the tree where it rested. The eunuchs scattered at
the approach of Her Majesty, and she inquired the cause of their being
here. The Chief Eunuch explained what they were doing, and the Empress
Dowager said, “I will call it down.” I thought this was a vain boast,
and in my heart I pitied her. She was so accustomed to have the whole
world bow to her, she fancied even a bird in the grounds would obey her
mandates, and I watched to see how she would take her defeat. She had
a long, wand-like stick, which had been cut from a sapling and freshly
stripped of its bark. She loved the faint forest odor of these freshly
cut sticks, and in the spring often had one when she went out. They
were long and slender, with a crook at the top. I used to think she
looked like the pictures of fairies when she walked with these long,
white wands. She would use them for pointing out a flower she wished
the eunuchs to gather, or for tracing designs on the gravel when she
sat down. To-day she held the wand she carried aloft and made a low,
bird-like sound with her lips, never taking her eyes off the bird. She
had the most musical of voices, and its flute-like sound seemed like
a magical magnet to the bird. He fluttered and began to descend from
bough to bough until he lighted upon the crook of her wand, when she
gently moved her other hand up nearer and nearer, until it finally
rested on her finger!
[Illustration: THE EMPRESS DOWAGER IN THE GARDENS OF THE SUMMER
PALACE--CALLING A BIRD]
I had been watching with breathless attention, and so tense and
absorbed had I become that the sudden cessation, when the bird finally
came upon her finger, caused me a throb of almost pain. No one else,
however, of her entourage seemed to think this anything extraordinary.
After a few moments she handed the bird to one of the eunuchs, and we
continued on our promenade.
I saw another instance of her magnetic power, this time with a katydid.
One of the Princesses, seeing one on a bush, tried to catch it, but in
vain. Her Majesty held out her hand toward the beautiful insect, made a
peculiar sound like their own cry, and advanced her outstretched finger
until it rested upon it. She stroked it gently for a few moments, and
then removed her fingers, and the katydid made no effort to fly until
she put it down!
CHAPTER XVI
THE GREAT AUDIENCE HALL--SOME OFFICIAL
CUSTOMS
When His Majesty the Emperor reigned alone, he was in the habit of
holding his Audiences as early as three o’clock A.M. It is said,
however, that this custom was owing as much to his personal shyness as
to his love of early rising, for at these Audiences he would allow but
two candles on the Throne-table in front of him, and the Great Hall
was lighted elsewhere only by the beautiful Chinese lanterns, which
shine with but a dim brilliancy and are not very effective as lights.
Thus his face could not be seen if an official should so forget the
Proprieties as to raise his eyes to the Imperial Person.
Their Majesties’ Audiences are held in the Great Audience Hall, a
detached building apart and quite distinct from all the other buildings
of the Palace inclosure. The inscription over its great doors points
out that it is the “Hall where Industry is to be applied to State
Affairs.” In all the Palaces the Audience Hall is nearest the outside
walls and entrances, so that the officials who are privileged to
have Audiences must only pass through the outer courts to reach the
hall--Their Majesties’ Palaces with their private apartments being at
some distance beyond. At the Winter Palace, where there are so many
walls within walls, each of Their Majesties’ Palaces is surrounded with
walls, and the Audience Hall is also in a walled-in inclosure near one
of the Great Gates, but at the Summer Palace there are no walls except
the exterior ones!
The interior of the Audience Hall, at the Summer Palace, is not by
any means bare or austere. It is furnished in the same style as the
Throne-rooms, with splendid ornaments, curios, tea-tables and chairs,
and, curious anachronism, there are here three pianos! The walls are
hung with ornamental scrolls, as well as with those bearing some
gigantic character traced by an Emperor’s hand or some condensed bit of
philosophy of the Sages. One of these scrolls has an admonition to the
Emperor to remember that “he is responsible to Heaven for the happiness
and prosperity of his people.”
There is a great dais in the center of the hall, on which stands
the Throne, with its table, behind which is the three-, five-, or
seven-leaved screen. The ancient dais was lower than those now used,
and the antique Throne, with its capacious size and cushions, was more
like a lounge than the modern Throne. This seems to indicate that the
administration of justice by the Emperor was in ancient times less
formal and more patriarchal than to-day. In former times the Emperor
could lounge upon his Throne at his ease when seeing his Ministers, and
they could approach nearer the Sacred Person, as the dais was not so
large nor so high as that in use to-day.
Heads of departments and Princes with honorary official positions
have Audiences on certain days of the month, to report upon affairs of
their Boards or to pay their respects to His Majesty. Every day Their
Majesties hold Audience and see the Prime Minister and Grand Secretary,
and there are frequent meetings of the Grand Council. The Prime
Minister, Prince Ching, has the last Audience of the day, and business
reported on during the other Audiences is then discussed.
All telegrams and despatches go to their respective Boards, and are,
except in cases of extreme gravity, only reported to Their Majesties
at the Audiences. After eleven all State business is supposed to be
finished by Their Majesties. They are then free from State worries
and cares until the following day. During the times of the rebellion
in the Province of Kwang-Si, when the Russian evacuation of Manchuria
was expected, and at the time of outbreak of hostilities in Manchuria
(the three grave events occurring during my stay in the Palace),
telegrams and despatches were constantly being sent to Her Majesty out
of Audience hours. They were brought to her Throne-room, and sometimes
even during her walks in the gardens they would be handed her. These
despatches were sent over to the Palace from the Wai-Wu-Pu on their
arrival. Of course, it was by Her Majesty’s express command that her
privacy was thus infringed upon. No official would otherwise have
dared transgress the prescribed rules. The despatches were received
at the entrance of the Palace by the eunuch whose province it was. He
placed them in the yellow-covered, silken-lined box, in which they were
presented to Her Majesty on bended knees.
In front of the Throne dais, during the hours of Audience, there are
five cushions placed on the floor for the members of the Grand Council
to kneel upon when they are memorializing Their Majesties. The Prime
Minister’s cushion is nearest the Throne. A cushion to kneel upon
is a privilege only granted members of the Grand Council. Any other
official, when making communications to Their Majesties, must kneel
upon the bare marble floor, and must kneel beyond the space occupied by
these five cushions. He is thus placed at a disadvantage. The distance
at which he is from Their Majesties may prevent his hearing some of
their words, especially the Emperor’s, whose voice is very low and
without any carrying quality. The official may overcome this difficulty
and shorten the distance by paying the eunuch who conducts him to the
Audience Hall, to remove some of the cushions, so that he may kneel
nearer the dais. The Prime Minister’s and Grand Secretary’s cushions
may on no condition be removed, but the other three are subject to the
will of the introducing eunuch. If this latter be sufficiently paid,
and there is a fixed price for each cushion, he will remove the three
of the lower members of the Cabinet.
When the official who has been granted an Audience is conducted to
the Audience Hall by the eunuch appointed for the purpose, the latter
throws open the great doors, falls upon his knees at the threshold,
and announces the name and position of the official, gives the hour
and minute of his arrival at the Palace, and, before he rises, he has
deftly removed the cushions for which he has received the required
sum. After his name has been announced, the official enters and kneels
as near the dais as is consistent with his rank and the sum paid the
eunuch. When the eunuch has introduced the official, he turns from
the door and must run away as fast as he can. Officials and eunuchs
stationed at some distance watch his departure. Should he linger or
transgress this law, capital punishment is the result. This is to avoid
eavesdropping and the possible transmission of State secrets.
When the official granted an Audience hears the last echo of the
steps of the departing eunuch, he falls upon his knees and begins the
relation of his business. Their Majesties question him, if necessary,
to elicit further explanations. When the Audience is finished, the
official rises and walks out. The Chinese never back out of the
Presence, and it is not considered a breach of etiquette to turn their
backs upon Royalty!
The officials who are obliged to go often to Audiences resort to an
amusing subterfuge to protect their knees from the marble floor. They
strap heavily wadded cushions around their knees before they go in, and
they can thus kneel in comfort. The long Chinese gown worn by the men,
of course, hides these knee cushions.
[Illustration: THE OFFICIAL AUDIENCE OF THEIR MAJESTIES]
His Majesty assumed the cares of State at an early age, when he was
still filled with boyish spirit. Many of the heads of departments are
old men, and some of them doubtless most tiresome in reiterating facts
and dwelling upon details. When the young Emperor first took over
the direction of affairs and held his Audiences alone, he would get
very impatient at hearing several of these old men go over tiresome
details. As it is not “according to the laws of propriety” for the
official to raise his eyes to the Sacred Person, while the old man
rambled on, with prosy detail, the young Emperor would slip off the
Throne and quietly descend from the dais, and when the poor official
raised his eyes to make his obeisance to the Emperor, he would see only
the vacant Throne! His Majesty had been in the rear of the hall behind
the screen for perhaps five minutes smoking a cigarette or otherwise
diverting himself!
I noticed a curious fact as to the quality of the sacredness of the
persons of Their Celestial Majesties. This sacredness seems to belong
to them as rulers and not as individuals. In the Audience Hall when
administering justice, they are not approached nor addressed, except
upon bended knee. In the Palace, in their own privacy, when they give
an order or any command touching upon official affairs, this order
is received by the attendant, be he courtier, high official or great
prince, on his knees. When any official communication is made to Their
Majesties, in private or elsewhere, it is made kneeling, but when Their
Majesties are in their private capacity and spoken to on ordinary
affairs, they are addressed almost familiarly, and the courtier or
simple attendant stands while speaking to them. If, however, in the
midst of a familiar conversation an order is given, the attendant
immediately drops upon his knees to receive it.
The kow-tow (pronounced ker-toe and meaning literally to bow the head)
is used as a form of thanks, and is not a manner of greeting. The
actors kow-tow to Their Majesties at the beginning and end of each
performance at the Theater, first to thank for the honor they are to
receive in being allowed to act before them, and at the end to thank
for the privilege granted. The officials “bow the head” to thank for
an Audience or any favor or gift they have received or are to receive
from Their Majesties. The kow-tow is not only made by people at the
Palace and at Imperial Audiences: it is sometimes used by equals to
each other as a proper manner of thanking for some great favor. To make
the kow-tow, the person kneels three times and each time bows his head
three times, touching the ground with it. The kow-tow could not be made
by a foreigner without looking most awkward and appearing most servile,
but the Chinese do it with dignity, and it is neither ungraceful nor
degrading-looking. It is a time-honored manner of giving thanks,
a Chinese tradition surviving from a time when the courtiers were
perhaps like slaves, but at present it does not imply any slave-like
inferiority on the part of him who performs it.
CHAPTER XVII
THE SUMMER PALACE AND ITS GROUNDS
The Summer Palace, the Empress Dowager’s favorite residence, is
really a superb domain. Its naturally picturesque situation among the
beautiful Western Hills, sixteen miles from Peking, has been improved
wherever possible, by the devices of art. The many buildings that
constitute an Oriental Palace have been most picturesquely grouped on
the banks of its great lake. The eminences and natural undulations have
all been made the most of as sites for Palaces and temples, and the
grounds are laid out with all the art the Chinese landscape artist has
at his command.
The buildings of the Palace proper, where Their Majesties and their
suites live, are all massed in one great town-like group at the
southeastern end of the lake. In this group are the Theater, with its
courts, and the Great Audience Hall. Palaces, temples, summer-houses,
tea-booths, dot the whole surface of the great park, and all the
vantage-points have been utilized for constructions.
A beautiful white marble terrace runs the length of the southern side
of the lake. Pavilions at intervals vary the monotony of this line or
give accent to the natural indentations of the banks. Picturesque
landing-places, with their marble steps lapped by the waters of the
lake, also lend their variety to this terrace surmounted by its
beautiful lotus balustrade.
The highest of the hills in the park of the Summer Palace is crowned
by the Great Temple of the Ten Thousand Buddhas. This is approached
by hundreds of steps, which lead up from the broadest part of the
marble terrace over the lake. Beautiful Palaces are built along this
terraced height. Picturesque pai-lou (memorial arches) are built at
such beautiful points, that Nature herself seems to have designed these
positions for them.
A fair, verdure-clad island lies peacefully on the bosom of the lake,
and the Palace and temple built thereon seem a part of the natural
formation of stone out of which they rise. A graceful seventeen-arched
bridge of white marble connects this island with the northern bank of
the lake.
The canal from Peking, which feeds the lake, winds in and out of
the grounds in such graceful meanderings as to seem some fair
mountain stream. The outlets to the lakes are spanned by the graceful
camel-backed bridges that only the Chinese architects build. Nature
and art are everywhere so blended, so harmonized, it is difficult to
tell which is which. The simple lines and beautiful proportions and
harmonious colors of the one-storied Chinese buildings make even these
seem almost a part of the landscape.
Chinese architecture--and one grows to admire it very much when studied
in its own environment--is tent-building, carried to its greatest
perfection and made enduring by the use of materials that last.
The grouping of the Chinese buildings is on the same order as the
congregation of tents of some roving tribe of Nomads. The downward
curve and upturned tilt of their roofs is but the natural slope of the
canvas and its uplifting by the tent-poles. These slender tent-poles
have developed into the supporting pillars of the verandah, and the
raised canvas door of the tent has grown into its buoyantly curved
roof. The ornamental eaves are but the solidified silken fringes
and embroidered valances of the tents of old. The curious roof
ornamentations of the modern Chinese house replace the weights that
held the tent-canvas steady. These weights, from rough stones, have now
become carven images, cunningly wrought. The Chinese even erect their
houses as their ancestors raised their tents. The builder places the
columns and puts on the roof before the walls are built. Except the
pagoda--and this even seems like so many superposed tents--the Chinese
building remains to-day, in spite of its elaborate roofs, its lacquered
pillars, and elaborate ornamentation, like some splendid tent, grown
into greater fixity and beautified by some magician’s wand. It is
admirably suited to the calm pastoral landscapes in which it rests, and
seems a part of Nature itself, and is never out of keeping with its
surroundings!
Wherever available, in the grounds of the Summer Palace, flowers are
planted, and they succeed each other almost the whole year round,
for the Chinese are wonderful gardeners. The extensive grounds are,
however, not given up entirely to flowers and beautiful constructions;
there are great fields of grain. Wheat and millet, and even
vegetables, are raised in these pleasure grounds. It was curious to
me to see how picturesque so prosaic a thing as a field of turnips
might become, when properly placed in a large pleasure domain. By
the planting of these useful crops, a great deal of fertile land is
utilized, without any detriment to the landscape, and the utilitarian
spirit, so strong in the Chinese, is satisfied.
There is one terraced hillside in the grounds of the Summer Palace,
called the “Flowery Mountain.” In the season of the peonies, which
the Chinese call “The King of Flowers,” this is really a flowery
mountain--one mass of blooms of exquisitely blended colors and faint
evanescent perfume. The China Aster is also brought to great perfection
by the Chinese gardeners, and in the time of the chrysanthemum the
grounds fairly blaze with this autumnal glory. The Chinese do not go
in for the cultivation of the chrysanthemum of extraordinary size. Her
Majesty does not care much for these; but her gardeners arrive at some
wonderful combinations of colors and some most curious shapes. The year
I was in the Palace, Her Majesty was delighted with a beautiful green
variety, that the gardeners had succeeded in getting, and that year
there was also a new variety whose petals were like threads, they were
so thin and hair-like.
[Illustration: OLD RUINS IN THE SUMMER PALACE]
The Temple of the Ten Thousand Buddhas is so-called from its being
built in glazed yellow tiles, each representing a niche, in which is
seated a Buddha, of which there are many more than ten thousand. The
interior is composed of three chapels. In the central one thrones the
Great Buddha. There was another famous Buddha in this temple, which
was invested with peculiarly sacred qualities, but it was hurled into
the lake below and broken into a thousand pieces when the foreign
troops were in possession in 1900. Her Majesty seemed to feel the
depredations to the temples, by the foreigners, more keenly than
anything else. The Chinese are so perfectly tolerant in matters of
religion, they cannot understand our attitude toward any other religion
but our own, and our contempt for any other kind of worship except that
in which we ourselves indulge.
The Chinese are said to hate the foreigner. They certainly have not
much reason to like him; nor to admire our much vaunted civilization.
The European Christian soldier in China has burned, destroyed, and
killed with as much barbarity as the heathen, and in many instances has
given the latter points in cruelty.
On the slope behind the terraced hill of the Ten Thousand Buddhas are
the ruins of the old Summer Palace, destroyed by the European troops
fifty years ago. After this, the site of the dwelling Palaces was
changed, and they were massed on the southern side of the lake. Her
Majesty has nearly hidden all trace of the 1900 devastations to the
Summer Palace, but these old ruins of the former Palace still remain,
and they are not a blot upon the landscape. On the contrary, they have
become picturesque with time, and give the one note of somberness to
this smiling demesne that is needed to accentuate its charm. There is
a small lake not far from these old ruins, built around with smiling
pavilions and a curious tower-like construction which is used as a
private temple. There are landing-places and small boats. It looks
like a charming bit of old Venice. We never went here, however, but
once. There are some unhappy associations connected with this beautiful
spot, and Her Majesty did not seem to care to visit it. The promenade
in the direction of the old Palace also seemed to sadden her, for she
had passed the early years of her married life in these now crumbling
ruins.
From the highest elevations in the grounds of the Summer Palace, we
could see the road from Peking! Sometimes Her Majesty and the Ladies
would watch from some of the summer-houses, the carts and chairs and
vehicles as they passed along. Several times we saw the Emperor and his
suite returning from some ceremony in Peking, over the road cleared for
his passage. Her Majesty, herself, would be the first to descry him,
and she would say, “The Emperor comes.” Then the Empress and Ladies
would all look, for it was not against the Proprieties for them to look
at His Majesty at such a distance. These views of the high road from
the eminences of the Summer Palace were all Her Majesty and the young
Empress ever saw of the outside world and common humanity; for neither
at the Winter nor Sea Palaces could they get any views from a distance,
nor was there any opportunity of seeing beyond the walls. When Their
Chinese Majesties go abroad--and this is generally only from one Palace
to another--quaint, triangular flags are placed along the Imperial
route, warning the people that Their Sacred Majesties are to pass,
and that the road will be reserved for them between certain hours. No
vehicles or pedestrians are allowed for some time before and after
the Imperial passage. In the City of Peking, the inhabitants, even on
the streets where the Imperial cortège is to pass, are shut into their
houses and not allowed to go out of their doors during the time, and
at the intersection of the transversal streets huge curtains are hung,
shutting them off from the Imperial way. For these progresses of Their
Majesties, the roads are covered with yellow sand.
CHAPTER XVIII
THE FESTIVAL OF THE HARVEST MOON--WORK ON
THE PORTRAIT
We think the Chinese so unemotional, so little given to pleasure or
amusement; but there are more popular festivals in China, indulged in
by all classes of people, than in any country in the world, except
perhaps Japan. The people, from the highest to the lowest, enter into
these celebrations with whole-souled earnestness and real enjoyment,
and all the popular festivals, as well as the religious ceremonies, are
celebrated in the Palace with apparently the same zest as among the
people.
The Mid-Autumn Festival, popularly known as the Festival of the Harvest
Moon, which is at its full at the time of the celebration, was, of
course, observed with due ceremony at the Palace. For these festivals
there are always representations at the Palace Theater, and one of the
plays on such days is the dramatization of the Legend of the Festival.
The legend of the Harvest Moon is this: One day an Emperor received the
visit of a fairy. When she left she gave the Emperor an herb, saying,
should he eat it, he would be endowed with Immortality. The Emperor
was called out, soon after the fairy’s visit, and forgot the gift
for a time, and the herb lay upon his table. During his absence from
the Throne-room, a young handmaiden entered and, seeing the root on
the table, with childish curiosity, tasted it, and, finding it good,
ate the whole of it. When the Emperor again thought of his precious
gift from the fairy, he hastened back to the Throne-room, to remove it
from the table where he had left it. What was his horror to find it
gone! Learning that the little handmaid was the only person who had
been in the Throne-room, he called her up to find out what she had
done with it. When he found she had eaten it, he ordered her killed,
that he might thus again obtain the herb. Before the eunuchs could
accomplish their task, the charm began to work, and she felt the wings
of Immortality; and borne up by them, she flew to the skies and took
refuge in the Moon, where she still lives with the pet white rabbit she
had in her arms at the time she flew away from the earth. She is now
an Immortal, and in the Moon she compounds the Elixir of Immortality.
The rabbit, also, shares her immortality, and ever watches at the lunar
threshold.
The drama, with this little maiden as heroine, was played by Her
Majesty’s actors on the day of the Moon Festival, and the finale of
the plays that day was one of the most beautiful spectacular tableaux
I have ever seen. The Chinese obtain most artistic effects in their
illuminations, and by the most simple means. The stage represented a
lake covered with luminous lotus, with the full moon floating above.
Throned on a gigantic lotus flower in the center of the lake sat an
immense, golden Buddha, impassible and serene, ingeniously illuminated
lotus flowers and luminous birds, emblems of Immortality, hovered over
the lake, and the whole tableau was supposed to represent Nirvana, when
the soul is absorbed into Nature and forms a part of it. It was really
fairy-like.
The Ladies dined in Her Majesty’s loge, and this beautiful, illuminated
tableau was scarcely finished before we were obliged to hurry away to
join Their Majesties, who had already started for the gardens where
the ceremony was to take place. The procession, with the Emperor and
Empress Dowager and Ladies in full dress, as usual for a ceremony, was
accompanied by hundreds of lantern-bearing eunuchs. It wound, in and
out, through the verandahed corridors and the paths of the garden like
some great glow-worm, until it came to the marble terrace beneath the
Temple of the Ten Thousand Buddhas, on the great terrace over the lake.
Here, in an open space bathed in the rays of the softly glowing moon,
with the glory of the setting sun still in the west, in front of the
great Stone Pai-lou stood a beautifully illuminated floral pai-lou
and an altar decorated with the usual pyramids of fruits, floral
offerings, and flagons of wine. The pai-lou to the Moon was entirely
of chrysanthemums, with an inscription “To the Glory of the Chaste and
Pure Celestial Orb” in white blooms, like gleaming stars, across the
top.
Their Majesties first made the bows and prostrations to the Moon,
and placed floral offerings on the altar. Then the young Empress and
Ladies did likewise, while the eunuchs recited a poem in melodious
and rhythmic cadence. The Chinese “recitative” is very musical, much
more so, to the foreign ear, than their music. This poem to the Moon
was recited by two voices in alternating rhythm with wonderful effect.
When the recitation was finished, an “auto da fe” was made of the
offerings, to which were added sticks of sweet incense and paper cut
in curious designs. Over all was poured some of the inflammable wine
from the flagons on the altar, and the flames leaped high above the
huge incense-burner that stood on a great bronze tripod in the center
of the moonlit terrace. It was a wonderfully picturesque sight--the
brilliant circle of splendidly gowned Ladies, with the Emperor and
Empress Dowager in their midst, around the flaming censer, whose
leaping flames glinted and glowed upon the jewels and gold embroidery
of their costumes. The lantern-bearing eunuchs formed a faintly glowing
circle around this shining center; and over the whole fantastic picture
the brilliant Harvest Moon shone with unwonted splendor, as if to
show itself worthy of the obeisances it had just received from this
brilliant group.
When the flames no longer leaped from the censer, when only the white
smoke of the incense curled through the interstices of its cover, Their
Majesties turned away, and the lantern-lit procession followed them
to the banks of the lake, where the whole Palace fleet, brilliantly
illuminated, lay moored beneath the marble terrace. The eunuchs,
holding aloft their gleaming lanterns, stood along the terrace and
knelt on the steps leading into the water, while Their Majesties
descended them. On two of the boats, at either side of the Imperial
barge, the eunuchs held their lanterns to form the characters “Peace”
and “Prosperity.” The waters of the lake were now glowing with the
reflections of the myriad lanterns and dancing under their many-colored
lights. A faint glow still illumined the western sky, while the
reflection of the resplendent Moon gleamed like liquid diamonds across
the lake! When we reached the Imperial landing-place, its great
arc-lights on the two tall, painted poles sent their reflections
shimmering, in long, wavy lines, far out into the lake, and almost
rivaled in their splendor that of the celestial orb itself.
Although I took part in all these Palace festivals, my work on the
portrait was advancing, but I longed for more opportunity to quietly
study it and for a little more freedom in working. I felt I needed
more time also for my painting. I ardently desired to be able to work
some when Her Majesty did not pose, and I finally decided to ask her
to allow me to remain at my painting when she and the Ladies went for
their morning walks after a short sitting. It was a deprivation for
me to give up even one of these delightful walks, when I saw such a
charming side of the Empress Dowager’s character, but I felt it must be
done. She reluctantly consented to excuse me on a few occasions, but
she seemed to feel it was not hospitable on her part to leave me alone;
and when she did so she would remain out a shorter time than usual. She
seemed so concerned at my working while the others enjoyed themselves,
that I soon ceased to ask to be left at work; I could only try to make
the best of the time I had at my disposal.
My desire to have more time for my painting and more opportunity
for studying the work was not the only cloud in the heaven of these
delightful days. As the portrait progressed I found myself constantly
running up against Chinese conventionalities as to the way it was done.
They wished so much detail and no shadow. Had Her Majesty been alone to
be considered, she was artistic and progressive enough to have, in the
end, allowed me more liberty; but she, also, was obliged to conform to
tradition, and no fantasy could be indulged in painting the portrait of
a Celestial Majesty. It was necessary to conform to rigid conventions.
I had such a fine opportunity to do something really picturesque in
painting this great Empress and most interesting woman, and I found I
was to be bound down by the iron fetters of Chinese tradition! I could
neither choose an accessory, nor even arrange a fold according to the
lines of the composition. I was obliged to follow, in every detail,
centuries-old conventions. There could be no shadows and very little
perspective, and everything must be painted in such full light as to
lose all relief and picturesque effect. When I saw I must represent Her
Majesty in such a conventional way as to make her unusually attractive
personality banal, I was no longer filled with the ardent enthusiasm
for my work with which I had begun it, and I had many a heartache and
much inward rebellion before I settled down to the inevitable.
The Empress Dowager, however, knew nothing of my discouragement, and
seemed perfectly contented with the progress of the portrait then on
hand--so pleased, in fact, she asked me if I would not like Mrs.
Conger to come and see it. I, of course, replied that I would, and an
invitation was accordingly sent, through the Foreign Office, inviting
Mrs. Conger to come to see the portrait.
As Her Majesty was to receive her in the Throne-room where I painted,
it was decided I could not work on that day. I fully expected the
portrait would be exhibited in the Throne-room, the only place where it
had a proper light; but, to my disappointment, Mrs. Conger was asked to
look at it in the small room where it was kept when I was not working
on it. When we went in, the Chief Eunuch ceremoniously removed the
yellow covering over the “Sacred Picture,” which hung flat against the
wall in a very bad light, with annoying reflections. The small room was
also uncomfortably crowded with Her Majesty and suite, so that it was
impossible to see the whole canvas at once. Mrs. Conger was, however,
so pleased with the likeness and lifelike expression in the eyes,
the upper part of the picture being in a fairly good light, that the
comment stopped here.
This first portrait represented the Empress Dowager sitting on one of
her favorite Cantonese carved Thrones. The figure was life-size. In one
hand she held a flower, and the other lay over a yellow cushion. The
tip of one small embroidered shoe, with its jeweled, white kid sole
resting on a dragon footstool, showed under the hem of her gown. The
head was a three-quarters view, with the eyes looking at the observer.
A jardinière, with her favorite orchid, stood behind the Throne at the
right. It was painted in full light. The canvas was four by six feet
in size; and there was thus no place for any of the emblems or insignia
of Her Majesty’s rank, save that she was clothed in her official
costume of Imperial yellow.
This was the conventional reality, and I had dreamed of painting Her
Majesty in one of her Buddha-like poses, sitting erect upon an antique
Throne of the Dynasty, with one beautifully rounded arm and exquisitely
shaped hand resting on its high side, contrasting in their grace with
its severe lines. I should have exaggerated her small stature by
placing her upon the largest of these Dynastic Thrones. Her wonderfully
magnetic personality alone should have dominated. At the left of the
Throne, I should have placed one of those huge Palace braziers, its
blue flames leaping into the air, their glow glinting here and there
upon her jewels and the rich folds of her drapery; the whole enveloped
in the soft azure smoke of incense, rising from splendid antique
bronze censers. Across the base of the picture, under her feet, should
have writhed and sprawled the rampant double dragon. The Eternal
Feminine, with its eternal enigma shining from her inscrutable eyes,
should have pierced, with almost cruel penetration, the mystery of her
surroundings. Her face should have shone out of this dim interior, as
her personality does above her real environment. I should have tried to
show all the force and strength of her nature in that characteristic
face, exaggerating every feature of it, rather than toning down one
line.
With all these possibilities that the Empress Dowager’s person and
surroundings would suggest to the most unimaginative of artists,
and with the conventional traditions, which I was obliged to follow,
no wonder I became discouraged. But I had always the solace of her
personality--the fascinating study of herself to delight and console
me. New phases of her character and personality were constantly
opening out before me. She dominates everything and everybody in the
Palace, and is far and away, the most interesting personality there,
not because she is the first figure at the Court, but because she is
really the most interesting one, and she would be that in any position.
No wonder that when she smiles the Court is gay--her smile is so
entrancing. No wonder that when she frowns the Court trembles, for she
excites sympathy in all her moods.
CHAPTER XIX
A GARDEN PARTY AT THE SUMMER PALACE
Not long after this, Her Majesty gave a garden party for the ladies
and gentlemen of the Legations. These garden parties occupy two
days, for ladies and gentlemen are not received at the same time
by Their Majesties of China. The Corps Diplomatique and attachés
were entertained the first day, and the ladies of the Legations the
following day. The entertainment was the same for each. The gentlemen
were formally received in the Great Audience Hall by Their Majesties,
after which a repast was served them in a pavilion near. When this was
finished, they were taken for a tour of the gardens and lakes, and they
left the Palace about two o’clock. None of the Ladies of the Court,
except, of course, the Empress Dowager, were present at the receptions
of the gentlemen of the Corps Diplomatique. The ladies of the Legations
were received the following day.
I was rather embarrassed as to what I should do, at this first formal
reception, for the ladies of the Legations, since my arrival in the
Palace. Being a foreigner, I thought it looked incongruous for me to
receive with the Chinese Ladies. My uneasiness seemed to be divined by
Her Majesty (she was always wonderful for her tact); she said, as I had
been presented first in private Audience, it would be well for me to be
presented also in public Audience. She suggested that I should go to
the Foreign Office, meet Mrs. Conger on her arrival, and come into the
Throne-room with her. When the eunuchs announced that the ladies had
arrived at the Foreign Office, Her Majesty ordered my red Palace chair
to take me there.
The Foreign Office is only a few hundred yards to the left of the
Imperial entrance to the Palace. Mrs. Conger was one of the first
ladies to arrive. When the other ladies came, all walked over to the
gate of the Palace, and, after entering, went to a pavilion at the
right of the Audience Hall, where they arranged themselves in the order
in which they were to be presented.
The verandah and large marble platform of approach to the Audience
Hall were shaded with tent-like silken awnings and covered, for the
day, with red carpets, the latter a concession to foreign taste; for
Her Majesty, though having many beautiful carpets stored up, has none
in use, and only in winter and for certain functions are the courts
carpeted. She never uses them in the interior.
A double line of Princesses, led by the Princess Imperial, descended
the steps of the Audience Hall and met the ladies on the marble
platform. The Princesses then turned and preceded them into the
Audience Hall. Here they separated and stood in a picturesque group on
either side of the Throne dais.
Here, in the dim obscurity, sat the Empress Dowager on the Dynastic
Throne, with the Emperor seated at her left. In front of Her Majesty
stood the official table, with its cover of Imperial yellow reaching
to the floor. To the ladies standing below the dais only the heads and
shoulders of the Empress Dowager were visible above the table, with its
pyramids of fruits and flowers.
The ladies made three reverences on entering, and each advanced and
went up on the dais at her presentation. Her Majesty’s interpreter, the
elder Miss Yu, stood at her right, a little behind, and repeated the
Chinese name and title of each lady presented. Her Majesty, who has a
royal memory for faces, recognized each lady who had been presented
before, but treated all with equal cordiality. This cordiality was
sometimes construed by the ladies, on their first presentation, as
a special mark of interest in themselves; but it was the Empress
Dowager’s invariable position toward all the foreigners at these
diplomatic receptions. Like all well-bred hostesses, she was most
particular to show no difference even to those ladies she liked best.
When all had been presented, the eunuchs removed the official table
behind which the Empress Dowager received the formal presentations, and
she descended from the dais. One of her yellow satin chairs was brought
and she sat down at the right side of the Audience Hall. The ladies
were then, collectively, presented by Her Majesty to the young Empress
and the Princess Imperial, and tea was ordered. While the ladies were
drinking tea, standing around the Empress Dowager’s chair, she said a
few words to each, informally.
When the tea was finished, the ladies, conducted by the eunuchs and
accompanied by the Princesses, went through the court of the Theater,
past the Palace of the young Empress, through Her Majesty’s court to
her Throne-room, where luncheon was served. This was in alternate
courses of foreign and Chinese food. There were foreign wines and table
waters, as well as Chinese, and quantities of sweet champagne, without
which, the Chinese imagine, no foreigner can eat.
After luncheon, at which the Imperial Princess and Princesses acted as
hostesses, the visiting ladies went to the marble terrace overlooking
the lake. Here they were met by the young Empress and the secondary
wife of the Emperor, for they were never present at the table when the
foreign ladies were entertained, any more than Her Majesty herself.
The Empress Dowager’s barge did not lead the Palace fleet that day.
There were three big houseboats, each of which ponderous affairs had a
large cabin with a yellow-covered seat for Her Majesty, which, though
she never used, was never occupied by any one else. Anything covered
with yellow is sacred to Their Majesties, and is never used except by
them.
[Illustration: THE SECONDARY WIFE OF THE EMPEROR
In Summer Coiffure]
We were rowed across the lake, first to the island, where the Palace
and small temple adjacent were visited, after which the ladies took
the boats again and continued the tour of the lake to the Marble Boat.
This Marble Boat was built over the lake as a summer-house for one of
the Emperors, and is on the plan of the Palace houseboat, but with an
upper, as well as lower deck. It is one of the things in the Summer
Palace most talked about by foreigners, and it is a curiosity, though
not a thing of beauty. It was never made the objective point of any
of Her Majesty’s promenades, nor visited, except when foreigners were
invited to the Palace. On the lower deck of the Marble Boat, where was
the best view of the lake, light refreshments, sweets, and fruits were
served. When the tour of the lake was finished, the ladies made their
adieus to Their Majesties and the young Empress and Princesses, and
left the Palace grounds for the Foreign Office, where they took their
own chairs and carriages for Peking.
In spite of Her Majesty’s cordiality and the efforts of the Princesses
and Ladies, these garden parties were not always as pleasant as they
might be. There seemed an absolute lack of harmony among the ladies
of the Legation. Each seemed to watch the other with a jealous eye,
in constant fear that some one might overstep her place. Some did not
hesitate, even, to show their private animosities on the steps of the
Throne, or before their hostesses at the table. They seemed to act
on the principle that the Chinese, not understanding the language,
would not understand anything else. It was unfortunate that this most
punctilious of people, the Chinese, should have had this apparent lack
of friendliness to judge the European ladies by. They received all with
equal favor and perfect etiquette, and it was a pity that the lack of
harmony among the foreign ladies should have led them to commit what
seemed to be breaches of etiquette, which the Chinese could not have
failed to observe. I was astonished to see how observant the latter
were and how accurately they gauged our standing.
Their comments on our costumes were also very interesting. Her Majesty
seemed to like foreign dress, especially when in pretty colors, for
she reveled in color. She said the foreign costume was very becoming
to well-made and well-proportioned people; but she thought, while it
showed off to advantage a good figure, it was unfortunate for any one
who was not so blessed. She thought the Chinese costume, falling in
straight lines from the shoulder, was more becoming to stout people,
for it hid many defects. One universal comment, among these Chinese
ladies, on us, was that we look old for our years. The well-bred
Chinese repress, from early childhood, all outward evidences of
emotion. They lead such simple, wholesome lives--“Early to bed and
early to rise”--that there are rarely any lines visible in their faces
until they reach an advanced age, when they seem to go suddenly from
ripe womanhood into extreme old age.
They have a particular aversion to blond hair. They did not tell me so,
as I have blond hair; but on the stage all the demons are represented
with blond hair, and the more blond it is, the more wicked the demon.
One day, one of the Ladies suggested to me that there were some very
fine vegetable hair dyes for turning the hair black without injuring
it; in fact, the growth was increased thereby. She said if I used this,
my hair “might in time become black; at least, it would grow much
darker.”
CHAPTER XX
I BEGIN A SECOND PORTRAIT OF HER MAJESTY--THE
PALACE PAINTERS
I had several days of good work on the portrait after the garden
party, when Her Majesty decided it was sufficiently advanced for the
characters, giving her name and titles, to be placed across the top of
the canvas. As she has sixteen appellations, represented by sixteen
characters, and as they were all to be placed upon the picture,
together with her two seals, official and personal, it required some
manœuvering to get them into the space required. This lettering was
looked upon as a very important detail; there were numbers of models
of the characters made before the proper size and style was arrived
at. The seals, about three inches long, had to be placed at either end
of the sixteen characters, and there was a great deal of deliberation
as to the color in which the characters were to be painted. Red was
finally decided upon. The two seals were to be painted, one in red
characters on a white ground, and the other in white characters on a
red ground. As I had not known these appellations were to be placed
across the top of the canvas when I began the portrait, I had not
allowed for them, and putting them on took away from the space above
the head and detracted from the general effect. This was another
discouragement. I left the discussion of the lettering to Her Majesty
and the writers, and I decided to give the canvas over entirely to the
latter for a few days, in order that they might place the characters
thereon, and that Her Majesty might have time to decide upon their
color at her leisure.
Her Majesty had told me, a few days before, she wished me to paint a
“number of portraits” of her, so I decided to begin another now, and
I hoped to be able, as this was not to be an official portrait, to
have a little more liberty in painting it. Her Majesty decided that
it should be painted in her ordinary dress and without the Manchu
coiffure, which she only wears at her Audiences, as it is very heavy
and very tiring to her head. The day I began the portrait she had
on a gown of soft, embroidered blue. Her hair, in a coil at the top
of her head, was beautifully dressed, with the jasmine flowers so
quaintly arranged, a realistic butterfly poised above them; her jewels
so discreet and picturesque, I asked her to pose and let me paint
her as she was then. Her coiffure, without the Manchu head-dress, is
much more becoming to her than with the huge, wing-like construction
which made her look top-heavy; for when she wore it, being in official
costume, she was obliged to wear a great profusion of jewels and
ornaments. In this portrait she was seated upon her Throne, but not in
a traditional attitude, and I began it full of hope; for, at least,
I had more choice as to the surroundings and accessories, which were
not obliged to be “according to tradition.” As it was only to be seen
by her intimates, I asked her to let me paint her two favorite dogs
lying beside her footstool, the blond “Shadza” and dusky “Hailo.” Her
Majesty gladly consented, and “Hailo” was ordered to be decorated in
his “gala costume.” This consisted of two huge chrysanthemums tied
in his hair over his ears. “Shadza,” the Pekingese pug, resented any
such accoutrement and was painted in his natural state. She took the
liveliest interest in the painting of the dogs’ portraits, and seemed
to think it much more wonderful to paint these little animals, so that
they were recognizable, than to make a likeness of herself. I was
obliged, of course, to do them very quickly. She sat behind me all the
time I was painting them, and the rapidity with which they grew much
astonished her.
I discovered about this time I was not the only painter in the Palace.
Her Majesty has a corps of painters always there. These painters
decorate the thousands of lanterns used in the Palace ceremonies and
processions. They paint the scenery for the spectacular plays at the
Theater, and the flowers used for the decorations of the screen-like
walls I have already alluded to. Some are very clever flower painters,
and one even paints portraits, but they have never seen the Empress
Dowager except from afar! Though Mandarins of the Third rank, the
painters were obliged to withdraw from the court where they worked when
Her Majesty and suite passed by. It was amusing to see these dignified,
handsomely gowned officials being hurried out of the court on Her
Majesty’s approach by the eunuchs who precede her. Their paintings
were submitted to her by one of the eunuchs, by whom she sent her
instructions to them.
I saw these painters first, at the time of the chrysanthemums. There
were some new varieties in one of Her Majesty’s courts that she wished
painted. One day, on going into this court, I saw a group of bebuttoned
officials studying the flowers. They gravely inclined their heads with
the customary dignity of the Chinese, and I found later they were
“confrères.”
It was interesting to me to see their methods--so different from ours,
but arriving at a very artistic result. I never spoke to them; but, as
I was an outer barbarian, I took advantage of my position and watched
them work from my windows, though I took care to keep myself hidden
behind the curtains, in true Oriental style. They worked in the court
quite near my pavilion. The chief painter selected the flower to be
copied, and the others stood around while he painted, petal by petal,
with most laborious and minute attention. While he worked, the others
took notes and made studies of the same flower. When this laborious
first study was finished, it was copied with a freer hand by one of
the painters, and this copy was copied until they finally arrived at a
dashing study, which seemed to be done “de premier coup.”
When the chrysanthemums were in their full glory, one day when Her
Majesty had allowed me to remain at my work while she and the Ladies
went for their walk, she brought me, on her return, a curious new
variety. When she handed it to me she said, “I will give you something
nice if you guess what I have named this flower.” It was one of those
new varieties with hair-like petals and a compact center, like the
bald head of an old man. I told her I was afraid I couldn’t guess, but
I thought “it looked like an old man’s head.” She was delighted, and
said, “You have guessed. I have just given it the name of the Old Man
of the Mountain.”
We were still having daily walks in the gardens, and there was always
some delightful little incident to make them pleasant and memorable.
One day, when we were out and were resting, while Her Majesty was
sitting alone before the “Peony Mountain,” the young Empress and Ladies
stood in a group at a little distance. We were near some arbor-vitæ
trees, and the young Empress picked a piece that looked like a
“peacock’s feather.” She told me to kneel and let her “decorate” me.
She stuck the curiously shaped branch in my hair so that it hung over
the neck and looked like the “peacock feather,” which is given as a
reward of merit to the highest officials, and is always worn upon
their hats. When she had placed it, she told me to rise, and called me
“Your Excellency Carl,” which is the title of those who possess the
decoration of the peacock feather. I kept it in my hair and soon quite
forgot my “decoration.” When we were walking on, Her Majesty noticed
it. She had been preoccupied and sad that day, but when she saw it she
smiled, and said, “Who decorated you with the peacock feather?” I told
her the young Empress had done so. She said that was her prerogative,
but she added, “If you were a man you would win it, and probably
a yellow jacket also, for you are fearless.” Why did she think me
fearless? Could she have heard that the foreigners in Peking seemed to
think it was almost as much as taking my life in my own hands to go and
live entirely alone among the Chinese at Court, and put myself in Her
Majesty’s power, after the Boxer trouble?
[Illustration: PAI-LOU IN GROUNDS OF SUMMER
PALACE--ON THE SHORE OF THE LAKE]
Another afternoon we went into the Great Audience Hall when we were
passing it, and I had an opportunity of studying in detail the interior
of this magnificent hall. I examined closely some of the rare old
niellée bronzes and wonderful Chinese cloisonné, for here are some of
the finest specimens in the Summer Palace. In the back of the hall were
three pianos, two upright and a new Grand piano, which had but lately
arrived at the Palace. Her Majesty wished us to try the Grand piano,
and one of Lady Yu-Keng’s daughters, who had studied music in Paris,
played a few airs. Her Majesty thought the piano a curious sort of
instrument, but lacking in volume and tone for so large an instrument.
She asked me to play also, and then said she would like to see how
the foreigners danced, and suggested my playing some dance music. The
Misses Yu-Keng waltzed, and she thought it very amusing to watch them.
She could not, however, understand how ladies and gentlemen could
enjoy dancing together, nor what pleasure they found in it. She said
the Chinese pay others to dance for them, and would not think of doing
so themselves for pleasure. It seemed to her the charm was rather in
watching the graceful movements of the dancer than in executing those
movements one’s self. I wondered what she would say, could she see one
of our crowded European ball-rooms, with hundreds of couples on the
floor at the same time, making violent efforts to steer through the
crowd. I fancy she would not have found pleasure even in watching these
dancers.
CHAPTER XXI
A EUROPEAN CIRCUS AT THE PALACE
Chinese ceremonies and celebrations were not all I was destined to
enjoy while at the Summer Palace. There began to be talk of some
“foreign entertainment” soon to be given, and when I found this
foreign entertainment was to be a circus, a real European circus, I
was delighted. I had been out in China two years, and had not had
much European entertainment during that time, and--shall I confess
it?--I dearly loved a circus if the horses and animals were fine.
This circus was then in Tientsin, and some one had suggested to Their
Majesties it would be an interesting thing to see. A young Manchu was
sent to Tientsin to investigate. When he returned, flaming posters
were submitted to Their Majesties by the Chief Eunuchs. When the
Empress Dowager saw the vulgarly colored picture of a summarily clad
young woman of the show, I was watching her face and I saw a look of
contemptuous scorn pass over it. She brightened up, however, when she
saw the pictures of the animals at their tricks, and the men on horses,
and it was decided that the circus should be brought up from Tientsin!
The animals and performers were to be domiciled in one of the parks
near by, but the tent was to be stretched within the inclosure of the
Palace.
Sites for the ring were discussed, and it was finally decided to have
the tents pitched at the extreme western end of the lake. There was a
large open field here, planted in turnips! As the turnips were ready to
be gathered, it was decided that the crop should be pulled up and this
place prepared for the tents.
One day we went out into the turnip field, and the Empress Dowager
herself pulled the first turnip; then the Empress and all the
Princesses pulled some, and when they found a curiously shaped one,
it was given to Her Majesty. It was a strange sight to see the Great
Empress Dowager, sitting there at the side of the field, on her yellow
camp-stool, smiling and interested, with the turnips piled around her,
and the gaily dressed Empress and Princesses in their silken gowns
flitting in and out of the field, apparently enjoying, to its utmost,
the simple task of pulling these prosaic vegetables. The eunuchs and
attendants stood in crowds around to take the turnips when pulled. They
were not allowed, however, to pull any themselves. When a small square
was denuded, Her Majesty and the Ladies returned to the Palace, and an
army of workmen came and pulled up the whole field and began to prepare
the ground for the circus tents.
As the performance of the circus was to be on the first day of the
month, the Imperial players were at the Theater. When the morning
Audience was finished, Their Majesties and the Empress and Ladies
went to the Theater and listened to two or three plays. After
luncheon, taken in the Imperial loge, Their Majesties started for
the landing-place, followed by the young Empress and Ladies. The lake
was gay with beautiful barges, great houseboats, and numbers of flat
boats for the eunuchs. The barges and houseboats were picturesquely
decorated with flying banners, pennants, and tasseled wands. Two
steam-launches, puffing away, gave an air of modernity to this most
Oriental fleet. One of the steam-launches was splendidly decorated with
yellow banners, with gorgeous yellow silk scarfs festooned around the
cabin and the Imperial flag flying above it. The Empress Dowager and
the Emperor descended the marble steps to this gaily decked launch, and
started off alone for the other end of the lake, the Imperial banners
and colors flying.
The Empress and Princesses went in the Empress’s State boat; the
visiting ladies followed in another of these ponderous but picturesque
affairs. In size they are as large as an ordinary Chinese pavilion.
The Empress’s cabin was carpeted and splendidly upholstered in cloth
of gold, with the usual tea-tables and lounges. It had one of those
gallery-like prows with silken awnings, where the Princesses stood.
The young Empress sat within, on one of the gold-covered couches. As
she had been brought up with several of the Princesses as playmates,
the young Empress generally waived ceremony with them; but she knew
how, when necessary, to maintain a sweet dignity that was charming
and perfectly in accord with her exalted position. To-day was a State
occasion. She sat alone, and the Ladies remained outside on the prow.
She asked me to come in and showed me the interior and some of the
curiously inlaid tables. She knew I was interested in all these things.
She made me sit at her side, and when I demurred she said she knew it
was not the foreign custom to sit on cushions on the floor, as was the
habit of the Ladies when in her presence, and that I must sit beside
her. This was the consideration they always showed me at the Palace,
which I fully realized was not due to any special liking for me, but
simply to their exquisite breeding--their desire to make me feel
comfortable and at home.
When we arrived at the other side of the lake, the Empress and Ladies
stood while Their Majesties landed. They were welcomed by a great
burst of music from the bands. A number of Princes and Officials stood
waiting to receive them and conduct them to the handsome loges that had
been prepared for them.
It was a picturesque procession that started from the landing-place--
the Empress Dowager and the Emperor, under the big, embroidered,
yellow silk, State umbrellas, preceded and surrounded by gorgeously
attired attendants and splendidly gowned officials, the young Empress
and Ladies, in gala attire, following after, with their eunuchs and
attendants. The day was perfect, and glorious sunshine added to the
brilliant effect. The side of the tent toward the Imperial loges was
open. There was a railed platform before the pavilions that had been
erected as “loges.” These pavilions were luxuriously fitted up: Their
Majesties’ loges were hung with the Imperial yellow. A yellow satin
chair (with a smaller one at its left) was placed in the center of the
raised platform, under the silken awning, and Their Majesties could sit
here or within as they chose. The Empress and Ladies stood in groups on
either side of this platform.
About two hundred officials had been invited to see the circus, and,
contrary to the usual custom, there was no screen between them and the
Imperial party. On the right were two bands of foreign music, or rather
of Chinese musicians who played foreign music on European instruments.
These were the bands of Yuan-Shih-Kai, Viceroy of Tientsin, and of Sir
Robert Hart, the Inspector-General of Imperial Customs. Sir Robert’s
band was formed about eighteen years since, when, as music is his
hobby, he decided to try to have some Chinese taught European music
on European instruments. He has now a well-equipped band of twenty
trained Chinese musicians under a competent European conductor. They
play on both brass and stringed instruments. His efforts have been so
successful that his example has lately been followed by several high
Chinese Officials, first among whom was Yuan-Shih-Kai. The latter’s
band is military, with fifty musicians, who play only on brass
instruments. The two bands played alternately during the intervals of
the performance.
For the first time during my residence at the Palace, I now had an
opportunity of seeing the Imperial Princes and many of the great
nobles and officials. Though they were often asked to the Theater at
the Palace, the screen between them and the Imperial loge was never
removed, except at the end of the performance, when they bowed their
thanks and when the Ladies retired to their own loge. The gentlemen,
however, could be well seen at the circus; and though the Chinese
Ladies did not glance in their direction, I took advantage of being a
foreigner, and when I was behind the others, and could do so without
being seen, I closely scanned their faces and attire. Several of the
Princes of the Imperial Family came up to the platform where Their
Majesties sat and made their bows to them, afterward slightly saluting
their relations among the Ladies and Princesses.
Among these young Princes at the circus was a son of Prince Kung and
an adopted son of the Imperial Princess. This young man not only had
a remarkably fine figure, tall and slender, with broad shoulders, but
his face was very handsome. His bow, on coming up to pay his respects
to Their Majesties, was as graceful as that of a young chevalier. His
regard was so ingenuous, his expression so clever and withal so modest,
his whole demeanor so gracious, I was much struck with him. His dress
was elegant, and his jewels chosen with discretion. There was none
of that overloading of belt ornamentation that the young dandies of
the Imperial set were then affecting. His father was one of the great
Princes of China, and if this young man develops and carries out the
promise of his youth (he was then only seventeen), I fancy he will
be heard of also. Like most of the young Manchu Princes, he held a
position in the Imperial household, such as Master of the Horse or
Captain of the Archers.
It was not much of a circus, but none of the Imperial party had ever
seen one before, and the setting was so gorgeous, it was unique as a
circus performance even to me. The Empress Dowager and the Emperor
had splendidly jeweled opera glasses, which a eunuch held ready for
their use. The Emperor, disliking to be looked at, held his own
glasses before his face most of the time. It seemed to me he used them
principally for the purpose of screening himself. The animals pleased
both Their Majesties; but aside from the dwarfs, of which there were
two, the rest of the performers seemed to have but a mediocre interest
for them. Her Majesty was particularly interested in the dogs and
trained animals, and His Majesty in the horses and fancy riding. I
was standing near him, and he looked keenly at me several times to
see how the performance struck me; and one of his head eunuchs asked
me in English--the Emperor would not try it--whether I thought it was
“good or bad.” Their Majesties sat through the performance, the Empress
Dowager only retiring to her loge once during the time, which was while
one of the summarily clad young ladies was gyrating on a trapeze.
There was a magnificent tigress which the circus master had trained,
and which was his “pièce de résistance.” The Empress Dowager would not
allow this to be taken out of its cage, and though it was brought out
in front of the Imperial platform, it was too cat-like to interest her.
She has a great antipathy to anything feline. When the performance was
finished, the Imperial party left in the same state in which it had
arrived, Their Majesties accompanied to the launch by the Princes and
high Officials, the music of the two bands playing simultaneously. The
Ladies of the Palace and Their Majesties, themselves, have so little
novelty in their lives, I think, on the whole, the innovation of the
circus was generally appreciated.
CHAPTER XXII
PALACE CUSTOMS
The Empress Dowager is an early riser, but the joint Audiences which
Their Majesties now hold are never at the extraordinary hours in vogue
when His Majesty ruled alone. When there is a press of business, and
many heads of departments to be seen, the Audiences begin very early,
but they rarely extend past eleven o’clock--the usual hours being from
half-past seven to eleven.
When the Empress Dowager sleeps, a maid watches in her room, two
eunuchs stand on guard in the ante-chamber to the room, four watch
at the door of the ante-chamber, and her body-guard of eunuchs fill
the building where her private apartments are situated. The maid and
eunuchs who watch in the night are changed every second day. Only the
High Eunuchs are intrusted with the duty of guarding her bed-chamber
and Throne-room. At the Summer Palace, Her Majesty’s bedroom is not
more than fifteen feet square; the bed, like all in North China, is
built into an alcove in the room. Shelves run around the three inclosed
sides of the alcove, and on these are placed Her Majesty’s favorite
ornaments--small jade curios, books, and, of course, clocks. In this
bedroom I counted fifteen timepieces on the bed shelves, and all
running. Their ticking and striking, not at all simultaneous, was
enough to run a nervous European woman wild; but Her Majesty takes so
much outdoor exercise, she seemed to have no nerves. There were no
flowers in her bedroom, but the ante-chamber, leading into it, was
always full of flowers, pyramids of apples, and “Buddha’s hands.”[5]
The bed-alcove is separated from the room by satin curtains, suspended
from a handsomely embroidered valance, with two long embroidered bands
to loop them back.
[5] “Buddha’s hand,” a very fragrant fruit of the family of lemons,
which is shaped like a hand, with long, curving fingers. Pyramids of
this fruit are used for their perfume.
Her Majesty is a light and irregular sleeper. When she wakes and
finds it impossible to go to sleep again, she rises, is dressed, and
often goes for a walk in the grounds, at what we would call the most
unseasonable of hours. She says Nature is beautiful at every hour
of the twenty-four, with a different charm for each moment. As she
loves it in all its phases, she likes to see it at every hour of the
twenty-four, at least once a year! When she wakes and goes for a walk
at night, the eunuchs who are on duty in her Palace accompany her with
lanterns, but she never takes these night walks, except by moonlight,
and when the night is beautiful.
Whether she has slept well or ill, she rises at six o’clock; for the
morning is devoted to business, and she never misses an Audience. On
rising, she takes a bowl of hot milk, or lotus-root porridge; then
her maids and tiring-women begin her toilet for the Audience. This
is the “grande toilette” for the day, for full dress is worn by the
Chinese in the morning, and in the evening they wear simple gowns.
When her toilet is finished, the young Empress and Ladies, having
“assisted” (from without) at her “lever,” she comes out into the
Throne-room and receives their morning greeting. The Emperor then
comes to pay his respects to the Great Ancestress, and together they
go in State, accompanied by all the Ladies of the Court, to the Great
Audience Hall. The Ladies of the Court remain outside the Great Hall
until the Audience is finished, when they accompany Her Majesty to her
Throne-room. The business of the day is then over. Her Majesty lays
aside her robes of State and gives herself up to duties connected with
the Palace.
While I was painting the portraits, she would pose on returning from
the Audience; or, if the Audience had been too tiring, she would first
go for a walk. Then would begin her various self-imposed household
duties. She would overlook the baskets of flowers and fruits sent
into the Palace daily, select some to be sent as presents, and send
others to the eunuchs of the kitchen to be cooked. Then she would
look at new rolls of silk, just arrived from the Imperial looms, or
examine new articles of toilet, fresh from the workshops of the Palace
tailors. Sometimes she would play a game, of which she seemed very
fond, and of which I know no counterpart. It was played on a large
square board, covered with white silk and painted in fantastic designs,
representing the Earth and Fairyland. The object of the game was to get
an ivory chessman, representing “man,” into Fairyland. The length of
the move was decided by throwing dice. There was no box for throwing
the dice: they were taken in the hands and thrown into a jade bowl. The
numbers uppermost were then counted and the move made. She would play
this game with the Princesses; and sometimes two of the High Eunuchs,
who were proficient, would be called in to make out the number. The
game was played for money, but, if Her Majesty won, the others did
not pay. If, however, they won, she paid, and at once. She was ever a
cheerful giver. She had wonderful luck, and it was a rare occurrence
for the others to win. I only happened to see it three times. The
Princesses were always pleased to play this game, for they had a chance
of winning and they never lost. One day I saw her get quite angry with
one of the Ladies playing. This Lady could not bear to lose, and would
get sulky and cross if she did. This annoyed Her Majesty, until finally
she reproved her sharply. She asked her why she played a game if she
were not willing to take her chances as they came, and meet loss or
gain with equal equanimity.
[Illustration: PRINCESSES OF THE COURT]
The Empress Dowager only eats two solid meals a day--luncheon and
dinner. These were exactly similar. The dishes, so far as I could see,
were identical; but they were so numerous, and of such variety, one
could make a change of menu by eating different dishes. The hours of
these two meals were very irregular; in fact, Her Majesty had no fixed
hour for anything except rising and attendance at the Audience Hall.
“Early rice,” as the Chinese call luncheon, was served the Empress
Dowager at any time between half-past ten and half-past twelve. She was
likely to order it at any hour after she returned from the Audience.
“Late rice,” or dinner, was ordered with the same irregularity. She was
very fond of nuts and fruits, and ate them between meals, when she
drank tea, hot milk, and certain fruit juices.
The young Empress and Ladies of the Court were not bound to these
irregular hours. They ordered their meals in their own pavilions at
the hours they wished. Sometimes they had but just finished their own
meals, when the Empress Dowager would order hers, and, when she had
finished, invite them to eat at her table. Then it would be a matter of
etiquette to eat with, at least apparent, relish. At this meal at Her
Majesty’s table, her place remained vacant. When I was in the Palace
and we were invited to eat at her table, the Ladies sat; but when I was
not there, the Ladies stood to eat, if she were still in the building,
thus observing a very old convention. The Empress Dowager was very
rigid about the observance of all traditional customs, and a stickler
for Court etiquette, but she was also very considerate of the Ladies.
When she had eaten, she would leave her Throne-room, or would conceal
herself behind some screen, so that they might sit and eat in peace. I
have seen her return to the Throne-room while the Ladies were eating,
but she would do it stealthily, not allowing the eunuchs to precede
her, so that the Ladies might not be obliged to rise on her entrance.
When the Empress Dowager dined, she sat at the head of a long table
absolutely groaning under the many dishes placed thereon. Huge silver
platters stood on side tables with sucking-pig, steamed goose, whole
fowls, etc. Before serving the latter, they were brought to her to look
at, just as the butler, in Europe, shows the pheasant and set dishes to
the mistress of the house. Her dishes were of yellow porcelain, with
curiously chased silver covers of pyramidal shape and quaint design.
When she arose to go to the table, a eunuch standing near would shout,
“Remove the covers,” the word would be repeated along the line of
waiting eunuchs, who would spring forward and whip off the covers of
the many dishes on the table as if by magic. At Her Majesty’s place
were two spoons, a saucer and bowl, a pair of chop-sticks, and a small
folded square of soft cloth, corresponding to our napkin. When she
sat down, she attached to the front of her dress, by a quaint, golden
pin, a large silken napkin,--for she was immaculately neat and had a
horror of a spot on her clothes. She was an epicure and thoroughly
appreciated any new dish the Palace cooks sent forth, and, like all
epicures, she ate very slowly and seemed to enjoy her food. She never
drank wine or anything else at meals. I only saw her drink wine on two
occasions, when some new vintages had been received at the Palace,
and then it seemed more to judge of their merits, as a connoisseur,
than anything else. When she finished her meal and left the table, the
eunuchs brought hot cloths for her hands and a golden “rince-bouche.”
After this, one of the maids would bring her a silver basin, soap, and
towels, and she would indulge in an elaborate hand-washing.
After “Early rice” came the hour of her siesta. She would retire to her
bedroom, and her reader, bringing several volumes from which to choose,
would come to read to her. She would remain in her room for an hour and
a half, whether sleeping or being read to. When she awoke, she would
make another careful toilet, the Ladies would join her, and she would
go for a long walk before taking “Late rice.”
On the first and fifteenth of the month, the Imperial players were at
the Theater. On these days, the Emperor, instead of returning to his
own Palace, would accompany the Empress Dowager and the Ladies from the
Audience Hall to the Theater. The Imperial Hymn was played on Their
Majesties’ entrance into the court of the Theater, and when they had
entered the Imperial loge, the players would come in a body on the
stage and “kow-tow.” Then the actors, splendidly gowned, would make the
customary wishes for the Imperial Peace, Prosperity, Longevity, after
which there would be a posture-play in costume, and then the plays for
the day would begin. On Theater days Their Majesties would lunch and
dine together in the Imperial loge. They did not sit at the ends of
the great table, but at right angles to each other--the Emperor at the
head of the table, and the Empress Dowager at his left. His Majesty was
not much of an epicure. He ate fast, and apparently did not care what
it was. When he finished, he would stand up near Her Majesty, or walk
around the Throne-room until she had finished.
The Empress Dowager was very rigorous in the observance of all fasts,
as well as feasts, prescribed by the rites. On fast-days, no meat
nor fish was eaten at her table. The meals consisted entirely of
vegetables, bread, and rice; but there was always a great variety of
these dishes, and they were temptingly prepared. Meat dishes and fish
were always prepared for me when I was invited to eat at the Imperial
table on fast-days, until I learned that the Empress Dowager and the
Ladies were fasting, when I asked to eat only what was prepared for
them when I dined with them at Her Majesty’s table.
On Festivals and Theater days, Princesses of the Imperial Family, wives
of Manchu Nobles, and high Officials were invited to spend the day at
the Palace. Sometimes their children would accompany them, little girls
and boys under twelve. I never saw a boy over seventeen in the Palace;
and only once, one sixteen years old. This was a son of Prince Ching.
When these young people came to the Court, they observed the same
rules of etiquette as their elders, and behaved with great decorum.
Her Majesty is very fond of children, but very particular as to their
manners. When a little girl did not make a graceful bow, Her Majesty
would not correct her, but would ask the young Empress, an authority on
etiquette and very graceful, to bow. Her Majesty would then tell the
little girl to notice how the Empress bowed and try to do it in that
manner. The child, or her parents, generally followed this suggestion,
and the grace of the bow was improved on the next visit to Court!
On one occasion, a lady of high rank, married to a kinsman of the
Empress Dowager, was invited to the Palace with her family. She had
two little girls, and when the family went up to bow and repeat the
salutation to Her Majesty, the younger daughter, only five years old,
refused either to make the bow or repeat the salutation, but sat down
on the floor and cried! The Empress Dowager waited patiently for the
mother to correct the little girl, for she is very fond of children
and disposed to condone their faults. The little girl would not,
however, listen to reason and continued to show temper. Her Majesty
could not allow such a breach of the “Proprieties,” even in a child of
this age, and the high rank of the family of the little girl made it
the more imperative that she should conform to the rules of Propriety
and observe the etiquette of the Court. When Her Majesty saw that all
efforts at bringing her to reason were fruitless, she ordered the child
to be taken away. Whereupon the mother began crying, and begged her
not to be offended with the little girl. She replied, “Do you think
a person of superior intelligence could be offended with a baby? I
send you out of the Palace to teach you a lesson, which you must teach
your child. I do not blame her; I blame you and pity her; but she must
suffer as well as yourself. You must teach your child that ‘it is by
the rules of propriety that the character is established’ (Confucius)”;
and she was inexorable. The family left the Palace and was not invited
again for some time.
CHAPTER XXIII
HER MAJESTY’S ANXIETY--HER BIRTHDAY
Her Majesty was looking tired and anxious these days; the Audiences
were unusually long, and despatches were arriving all during the day.
She would often go to the Gardens immediately after her Audience for
solitary walks, unattended by the Ladies, and when she went out for
the walk, accompanied by the Empress and Princesses, she would sit
distraught and abstracted before the finest views and those she loved
most. She seemed absent-minded, and when some eunuch with the official
message would kneel before her, awaiting her order to deliver his
message, she would recall herself with an effort. One day when we were
out, after days of this anxiety, and she was sitting alone in front of
the “Peony Mountain,” the Empress and Princesses standing in a group at
a little distance, she looked a pathetic figure. Her strong face looked
tired and worn. Her arms hung listlessly by her sides and she seemed
almost to have given up, and I saw her, furtively, brush a tear away.
The days were so like each other at the Palace, the Chinese dates being
different from ours, I lost my reckoning until I had a Tientsin paper,
and I saw that the date on which the Russians had promised to evacuate
Manchuria had passed and they were making no move toward doing so;
and that there were rumors of war between Japan and Russia. This,
then, must be what was weighing upon the mind of the Empress Dowager.
A few days later a telegram was handed her in the Throne-room while
she was posing, that seemed to greatly agitate her. It was from Kwang
Hsi, and reported the ineffectual attempts of the authorities to put
down a serious rebellion there. Thus, there were interior as well as
exterior troubles to make her anxious. She seemed to take these State
troubles to heart; and it was touching to see her anxiety, which she
made but little effort to conceal when surrounded only by the Ladies.
The Emperor, on the contrary, preserved his usual calm exterior, and
if he was racked by anxiety, showed no evidence of it. This may have
been because he had schooled himself to hide his feelings. Be that as
it may, his face had always that enigmatic smile lurking around the
corners of his mouth. I fancied, though, his eyes looked more resigned
and sadder than usual.
The date of the Empress Dowager’s Birthday (November 16) was
approaching, and preparations to celebrate it were beginning. She
was determined to keep this celebration very simple. She issued
edicts prohibiting the high Officials and Viceroys from sending the
extravagant presents which always pour in at the celebration of the
birthday of any one of her age in China. She recommended great economy
in expenditures for the celebration, saying it would be improper and
unworthy at this time of National distress, when the Foreign Indemnity
was not yet paid, to make a large outlay for her Birthday. The
celebration of a birthday in China is a great event, almost a religious
ceremony, and is observed with great rejoicings by all classes. The
poorest in the land, if they are not able to keep any other festival,
always celebrate with as much pomp as possible the birthdays of their
parents. This is one of the duties enjoined by the Book of Rites, and,
in spite of Her Majesty’s expressed wishes on the subject, the Emperor
could not allow her Birthday to pass without a fitting celebration.
The Emperor beseeched Her Majesty “on bended knee” to allow him to have
her Birthday celebrated with the same pomp as usual--to permit him to
add another honorific title to the sixteen she already possessed--but
though she was very proud of her titles, which the Ministers and
Emperor had conferred upon her at different times, she was inexorable
on this point, for the adding of a new title would necessitate an
annual grant of twelve thousand dollars in gold. She also insisted that
everything must be on a smaller scale than usual. She was, one could
well see, in no happy frame of mind. There was none of the enthusiasm
she had shown over the preparations for the Emperor’s Birthday. Then
she was in gay good humor. She then evidently fully believed that
things were going well for the State, that China would soon obtain
her full rights in Manchuria again; then everything seemed brighter
for the Nation’s outlook than now. It was her duty, however, to go
through these Birthday celebrations, which, curtail as she would, must,
nevertheless, be very elaborate, owing to her age as well as to her
high rank. The Empress Dowager’s wishes as to the adding of a new
title were observed, and it was not conferred, but the preparations for
the Birthday went on, on a magnificent scale. Presents came pouring
into the Palace, and even more elaborate festive decorations than those
used for the Emperor’s Birthday were being put in place.
Her Majesty was to receive the prostrations of the Emperor and
Empress,[6] Princesses, and members of the Imperial Family, on a
Throne in the Palace, that was built half-way up the terraced hill
crowned by the Temple of Ten Thousand Buddhas. She did not receive
these prostrations in the Great Audience Hall: this was set aside,
by tradition, for the Emperor, alone. Had she been reigning for him,
she would have received them there, but as she was reigning with him,
she received them in the other Palace. The elevation of this Palace
permitted all who were allowed to enter the Precincts to offer their
congratulations, to get a glimpse of Her Majesty. As the weather was
getting cold, the marble steps leading up to this Palace, the courts,
and even a large part of the terrace over the lake, were covered with
carpets of gala red.
[6] It has been said by foreigners, that Her Majesty the Empress
Dowager obliges the Emperor and Empress to make the prostrations before
her on her Birthday as an indignity to them and to show her authority.
The truth is, that every son in China kneels before his parents on
their birthdays, and should the Emperor fail to do so, the whole of
China would be horrified and cry out against his unfilial conduct. Her
Majesty is not only the wife of his uncle, the Emperor Hsien-Feng, but
the sister of his mother, and, more than all else, the Empress Dowager
is the Emperor’s adopted mother. The duties of an adopted child to his
adopted parents are the same, in China, as to his own parents. In the
Viceroy Chang-Chih-Tung’s famous ode to the Emperor, he speaks of this
filial piety as one of the Emperor’s greatest qualities: “Who does not
admire the filial reverence and piety with which he waits upon his
august mother? Setting a brilliant example to all, he inquires early
and late after her well-being and watches over her meals in person. Let
us now add a new ode, extolling to the skies our Emperor’s fidelity to
his Imperial mother.”
The congratulations and prostrations were to begin at 2 A.M., the
hour of her birth. There were three pairs of huge silver candelabra
standing at either side of the Throne to hold the enormous wax candles
of Imperial yellow, entwined with golden dragons, which weighed fifty
pounds each. They stood five feet high. Lanterns with the ever-present
character “Sho” and others inscribed “Wan-Sho-Wu-Chiang” (no limit to
Imperial longevity) stood on each step of the long flight leading up
to the Palace. The whole terrace below, all the temples and buildings
in the grounds, were brilliantly illuminated with splendid lanterns,
elaborately ornamented with tassels of red silk, with the characters
for longevity emblazoned thereon in vermilion.
With the few changes necessitated by the different season of the year
of the Empress Dowager’s Birthday, everything was carried out as for
the Emperor’s except on a larger scale, as she was celebrating more
years than His Majesty. The Palace was filled to overflowing with the
many ladies invited to be present. Some came from the heart of distant
Manchuria, the cradle of the Dynasty. The winter Court dress of the
ladies, worn for Her Majesty’s Birthday, was of satin, lined and
trimmed with fur, with sable collars. Like the summer Court dress, the
winter gown was elaborately embroidered in the golden double dragon.
The picturesque summer coiffure had also been replaced by winter hats
of fur with jewels across the front and an elaborate crown, studded
with precious stones. Brilliant bunches of flowers were worn on either
side of the coiffure, in winter as in summer.
The celebration of birthday festivities in China is always accompanied
by rites and worship of the ancestral tablets, and Her Majesty was
obliged to go into Peking several times during the celebration. The
ceremonies, themselves, were also very tiring. All this effort to keep
up, and to properly carry out her part of the ceremonies, added to her
real anxiety, made the forced celebration of her sixty-ninth Birthday
far from a happy event to the Empress Dowager of China, who found
the Empire she was trying to guide, in so perilous a position--war
threatening on its confines, foreign complications of all kinds to
deal with, and rebellion within.
CHAPTER XXIV
THE WINTER PALACE
The Summer Palace was always the Empress Dowager’s favorite Palace, but
after the Boxer rising and the subsequent occupation of Peking by the
Allies, when foreign troops were stationed in both the Peking Palaces,
and so much damage done them, she would have preferred to have lived
the whole year round at the Summer Palace. As it is, she occupies it
from eight to nine months of the year, going out to it at the first
opportunity in the spring, and leaving it only when it is so cold as
to make it impracticable. There is a system of heating it by furnaces
beneath the floors, but Her Majesty never used these, and the small
Chinese porcelain stoves, sorts of braziers, were quite insufficient
for heating the immense halls. This, however, would not have influenced
her, as she never minded the cold, but it was very difficult for the
officials to take the long trip to the Summer Palace during the winter,
and this consideration alone caused her to move into the Winter Palace
when the weather became very cold. The members of the Cabinet and the
Princes had summer homes in the immediate vicinity of the Palace, but
there were thousands of officials who were obliged to come out every
day from Peking.
The time had now come for the Court to move in definitively to the
Winter Palace, and shortly after the Birthday festivities, Their
Majesties took up their residence in the Capital. Before I left the
Summer Palace, the young Empress suggested that I should go to the
Winter Palace the next day in time to assist in receiving Her Majesty
on her arrival there, for, as usual, I left the Summer Palace the
day before the Court, and went in to the United States Legation. At
every change of residence of the Empress Dowager, the young Empress,
Princesses, and Ladies of the Court precede her by a few hours, and
stand upon the threshold of her own dwelling Palace to receive her when
she arrives. Full Court dress is worn for this reception, and it is, as
is everything touching Her Majesty, a ceremony!
The day of the Empress Dowager’s entrance into her loyal City of Peking
for the winter, in December, 1903, was a typical Peking winter day; the
air was crisp and clear, the atmosphere positively sparkling, and like
champagne. One seemed to breathe an elixir. For her “progresses” from
one Palace to another the Empress Dowager always had, what they call in
England, “Queen’s weather.”
The City of Peking is composed of three walled towns--the Chinese,
the Tartar, and the Imperial City. Within the Imperial City lies the
Winter Palace, its battlemented, turreted walls surrounded by a moat.
After passing through one of the great gates, in the wall surrounding
the Imperial City, and crossing the stone bridge that spans “the
Grain-bearing Canal,” we soon came in sight of the splendid walls
and lofty gates of the Palace inclosure. The red outer walls of the
Palace, faded by Time and weather to a charming gray-pink, with their
beautiful corner constructions of airy-looking turrets reflected in
the still waters of the moat beneath, were most picturesque. We were
carried along the raised road beyond the moat until we came to a marble
bridge (formerly a portcullis), that leads into the gate of the Palace
in front of the Manchu Banner quarters, at the foot of the Coal Hill.
Our chairs, by special arrangement, were allowed to enter the inclosure
proper, of the Winter Palace; but even after entering the exterior
gates, one winds in and out between high walls, through massive gates
and heavy wooden doors studded with huge iron nails and ornamental
copper balls. Against the high wall on either side of this approach,
wooden sheds were built as sleeping-places for the guards and soldiers.
Each shed had a front of lattice-work, with paper pasted over the
interstices. Within was a cemented platform, which the Northern Chinese
use as beds. These have a place underneath for building a fire, for
they keep warm at night by sleeping on hot beds and use very little
cover.
Just beyond the last of these guard-houses, our official “green chairs”
were put down between two high walls, with forbidding gates in front of
us. Here we took the red Palace chairs which were awaiting us. We were
swiftly carried through still other gates and past a very labyrinth of
walls. The courts were all paved in large flagstones of white marble,
and surrounded by high walls with heavy doors. We finally reached a
charming court, where, standing under the overhanging branches of a
beautiful cedar, we found the young Empress and Princesses, in full
Court dress, already awaiting the coming of Her Majesty. It was a
pretty group that stood there, gowned in their splendid Court costumes,
the sunlight glinting upon the jeweled crowns of their fur caps, and
giving a touch of nature to the brilliant flowers in their hair. My
plain, foreign, tailor-made gown was the only dark spot in this bright
group of gorgeously attired ladies.
Presently the cymbals and flutes sounded the weird notes of the
“Imperial Hymn.” The great wooden doors of the court were thrown open
and the Imperial procession came in sight. Splendidly gowned eunuchs
advanced in two lines, walking with rigid bodies and stately step.
At a sign from the young Empress, a hush fell upon the chattering
group of Princesses and each took her proper place. Then the Imperial
chair-bearers crossed the threshold, with Her Majesty sitting erect
in one of her “open chairs,” for as soon as she gets into the Palace
grounds she leaves the closed palanquin, in which she is obliged to
travel abroad and which she very much dislikes on account of its
stuffiness. The Ladies, as if moved by one impulse, made the formal
bow at her approach, and repeated the usual Imperial salutation
“Lao-tzu-tzung-chee-siang,” which I repeated with the others. Her
Majesty had her chair stopped in the center of the Court and got out,
and I went up to salute her. She shook hands, and said she hoped I
would be happy in the Winter Palace, but that it was a dull, depressing
sort of a place, with too many walls and gates, after the open
brightness, of the Summer Palace. After a few minutes’ conversation she
went into the Throne-room, followed by the Empress and Ladies.
Her Majesty’s Throne-room at the Winter Palace fronted on a court which
was surrounded by well-built walls with curiously shaped doors and
windows and ornamental yellow and green tiled designs at intervals. In
the center of the wall in front was the immense gateway, with wooden
folding-doors, which had just opened for her passage. The verandah
of the Throne-room had two rooms projecting upon it, making of it a
rectangular space with walls around three of its sides. This verandah
was quite different from any at the Summer Palace, where they run the
whole length of the buildings, back and front.
Entering, I was struck by the beauty of the great central hall--the
harmony of its proportions, the somber splendor of its color. It seemed
to me the most satisfying, the most picturesque of all the restful,
harmonious Chinese interiors I had seen. Its dull red walls, splendid
coffered ceiling glowing in color and glinting in gold, its central
dome, with elaborately carved pendentives, was painted in brilliant
primary colors, subdued into a rich harmony by the demi-obscurity, for
it had no “lantern” and received its light from the windows below.
[Illustration: COURT IN THE WINTER PALACE--“HER MAJESTY COMES”]
The curious feature of the domes in several of the palaces in the
Violet City, so effective from within, giving elevation and space to
the interiors, is that they are not visible from the outside of the
edifice. The beautiful straight line of the roof, with its upturned
corners, remains intact in its purity and retains its restful
simplicity.
The hall was paved with great blocks of highly polished black marble,
which dimly reflected the glowing splendor of the walls and ceiling.
In the center of one side was a low dais, richly carpeted, on which
stood a great antique throne and footstool of red lacquer, framed
in ebony and inlaid with cloisonné--the three-leaved screen behind
was of bronze, with landscapes in low relief. On each leaf a poem in
golden characters gave the needed touch of brilliancy to the somber
massiveness of the dull bronze.
Great wooden doors, with huge gilded dragons in high relief, opened
into apartments on the right and left of this splendid hall. These
portals were always thrown wide, and heavily padded satin portières
hung from the lintels. The front and rear of the hall was almost
entirely of glass, with the pillars that supported the roof standing
clear between the windows--the lower half of plate-glass, the upper, of
transparent Corean paper.
The apartments to the right, where, at a sign from Her Majesty, I
followed the Ladies, were her day-rooms. Her sitting-room, projecting
on the verandah, brilliantly lighted by two sides of windows, was in
dazzling contrast to the somber splendor of the Throne-room. The sun
pouring through the windows, the gay flowers and growing plants, the
fruits piled high in great painted bowls, the divans, beneath the
windows, with satin cushions, the touches of femininity, the subtle
perfume, even the small shrine to Buddha--everything bespoke the
characteristics of its august mistress, who, in her hours of ease,
loved sunshine and flowers, and reveled in beauty and perfume.
On entering, Her Majesty approached the small shrine, lighted three
slender tapers of fragrant incense, and placed them upright in the
perfumed ashes of the golden censer at the feet of Buddha. She
rearranged the offerings, placed a picture of the Mother of Buddha
behind the Image, and then stood in reverent attitude a few seconds
before turning to her waiting tirewomen to have her outer garments
removed.
As I had now learned that my interest in her surroundings pleased her,
I looked around the room. It was as lofty as the Great Throne-room, but
the rear wall was divided into two stories, and a hidden stairway led
to the upper rooms. In an alcove, under the second floor, was built
the bed where she took her siesta in the afternoon, screened from the
sitting-room by beautifully embroidered satin curtains. The walls of
carved teakwood had a rare frieze of panels of flying birds and bats
in mother-of-pearl. There were scrolls bearing quotations from the
classics; and, of course, many beautiful and curious clocks adorned the
dragon tables, the window-seats, and carved chests!
In prominent places, each flanked by good-luck pennants, hung two
steel-engravings: the first representing Queen Victoria in regal array;
the second, the Queen and Prince Consort, surrounded by their children
and grandchildren. I was surprised to see them here in Her Majesty’s
living-room, though I had heard that the Empress Dowager had a great
admiration for the Queen, and that she thought there were many points
of similarity in their reigns. They had each been widows the greater
part of their lives, and had each ruled over great empires. She said
she noticed in the Queen’s face the same lines of longevity that she,
herself, had. She probably dreams of as long a life as the great Queen
of England had.
The Empress Dowager was astonished that I had seen so many members of
the English Royal family, and the Queen herself, when I had never had
an “Audience,” and was still more so when she learned that the Great
English Empress took her daily promenade outside her Palace Walls in
“an open chair,” and could be seen by any one who happened to pass that
way.
Her Majesty told me I might go up the hidden stairway, leading from
her bed-alcove to the floor above, where was her private chapel. Here,
on special occasions, services were held by lama priests. It was a
beautiful haven, in whose dim, religious light one might meditate or
pray.
Its high altar, with a great golden Buddha of fine design, had tall,
golden candlesticks, shining with pearls and rubies. Richly wrought
and enameled vases held bouquets of jeweled flowers, and censers,
damascened with gold, sent up spirals of perfumed smoke. The floor
was covered with a splendid silken rug of Imperial yellow, and
small, exquisitely executed, paintings of the saints and personified
attributes formed a dado around the walls.
Curiously shaped windows, with bits of translucent shell set into the
elaborate lattice-work, shed but a dim light, and out of mysterious
depths shone the splendid jewels of the altar ornaments, the dull gold
of the Great Buddha, and the gleaming dado of red-and-gold clothed
saints! This was Her Majesty’s favorite chapel. She had followed me up
and showed it with pride. She appreciated its perfect artistic quality
as much, I am sure, as she loved its religious element.
Here she could come, from the privacy of her bed-alcove, mount the
hidden stairs when she willed, unnoticed and unattended, and here seek
that peace which seemed so far away those troubled days of January,
1904, when all looked so dark for her country.
Her Majesty’s Throne-room is in the first of three large halls in
the northeastern corner of the inclosure, which, with their courts,
extend to the exterior walls of the Palace. The buildings are raised
about eight feet above the marble-paved court and are approached
by handsome, white marble steps. Leading up to the second, for the
first time I saw a “spirit-stairway” used in secular architecture.
This “spirit-stairway” consists of a block of marble placed in the
center and reaching from the top to the bottom of the stairway. This
block, instead of being cut into steps, is elaborately carved with the
double dragon. It lies in the middle of the stairway like a beautiful
heavy carpet thrown over it, too stiff to take the form of steps. The
“spirit-stairway,” not to be touched by mortal feet, is used in the
approaches to all the fine temples; and when, as in the case of the
Temple of Heaven at Peking, the stairs are high, the effect is as
beautiful as it is original and unique.
[Illustration: CONFUCIAN TEMPLE--SPIRIT-STAIRWAY
IN CENTRAL FLIGHT OF STEPS]
The hall with the “spirit-stairway” is the handsomest of the three in
the Empress Dowager’s inclosure. Its interior, a height of fifty feet,
has a splendid coffered ceiling, and its walls are of wonderfully
carved wood, with cloisonné medallions, which give great richness and
splendor. A balcony surrounds this lofty hall, with openings from it
into rooms over the side apartments, which are of but the usual height.
This great front hall, with a dais and throne, screen and ceremonial
fans, showed it was for more formal receptions than the beautiful domed
room we had first entered. Opposite the Throne dais stood a “cistern”
of splendidly carved jade to hold water for cooling the temperature
in summer. A handsome music-box, which had been sent as a present to
the Dowager Empress by Queen Victoria, and several other presents from
European Royalties, stood around. The apartments on the right were for
His Majesty’s use when he came to the Theater, which was near. On the
left were Her Majesty’s night apartments. Two doors led through the
open-work screen which separated the hall from the entrance at the rear.
Here there was another magnificent block of jade, about five feet high,
elaborately carved in designs representing the manner in which the jade
is mined and taken from its native mountains.
From the central hall, a raised marble platform led into the third
of the buildings. Here, again, the central hall occupied the entire
height, while the sides were divided into two stories. This was one
of the Emperor’s Throne-rooms, and he had graciously given it for
my use while painting the Empress Dowager’s portraits. I had been
told I was to have a “magnificent place for working” in the Winter
Palace, and so far as magnificence went, I had it here. But, lofty
and spacious as the hall was, it was very dark, and there was also a
disagreeable reflection from the shining, yellow-tiled roof of the
Palace in front. The court was very small, and the reflection from the
roof was consequently unavoidable. My heart fell. It was a dreadful
disappointment to find that my “studio,” to which I had so looked
forward, was so unsatisfactory as to light!
The Empress Dowager’s quarters at the Winter Palace are separated by
high walls and guarded gates from the Emperor’s. The pavilions of the
Emperor’s inclosure are on a more magnificent scale even than those of
the Empress Dowager. The Audience Hall of the Winter Palace is in the
Emperor’s inclosure. In Her Majesty’s inclosure, there is a Theater,
but the Imperial “loge” is small, indeed, when compared with the
splendid hall at the Summer Palace. Tradition seemed to be more rigidly
observed here than at the Summer Palace, and everything seemed to be
referred to the Emperor; whereas Her Majesty seemed to be the first
figure at the Summer Palace, and there, traditional laws were often in
abeyance.
CHAPTER XXV
PEKING--BEGINNING THE PORTRAIT FOR ST. LOUIS
The Legation quarter of Peking lies in the Tartar City, just under
the walls of the Imperial City. The United States Legation, in 1904,
occupied a Chinese Temple on the canal, at the left of the “Water
Gate,” the opening of which was exacted by the Allies in 1900. Before
this time, there was no gate between the Chien-Mên and the Hata-Mên.
It was a picturesque jaunt in the early morning that I had from
the United States Legation to the Palace. My cart rattled down the
road, running parallel to the canal, past the splendid inclosure of
the English Legation to the “Glacis,” and across the Marble Bridge,
that traverses it, to the narrow street under the great red walls of
the Imperial City. The walls all over China are wonderful feats of
architecture, the culminating point of the science of the Chinese
builder. The “Great Wall,” long counted one of the wonders of the
world, is one of many in China, and only remarkable on account of its
size and great length. Nearly every town and city in China has massive,
well-constructed walls, which, with their splendid gate-towers, make
them really remarkable works of architecture. Even the palaces and
parks of the rich have fine walls, the monotony of their line varied
by the turreted summer-houses which surmount their angles. These walls,
quite overtopping the cities and houses they inclose, with their
watch-towers permitting their defenders to see at great distances,
must, in medieval times, have been a splendid protection against the
attacks of enemies or the inroads of barbarians.
The main thoroughfares of the Tartar City are very wide, with a raised
causeway, about two feet high, in the center. When Their Majesties go
abroad, this is covered with yellow sand and is used as an Imperial
roadway. Ordinarily any cart or chair, irrespective of the rank of
the occupant, may use it. It is always kept in excellent condition,
and seems to be a survival of the raised roads that Marco Polo speaks
of in describing the grounds of the Palace of Kublai-Kahn. The lower
roads on either side of this raised causeway are generally in a
lamentable state. Itinerant cooks ply their odorous trade of frying
grease-balls, etc.; barbers shave their clients and act as manicures
and chiropodists, in full view of the passer-by; venders of old iron,
clothes, vegetables, etc, spread out their wares in the middle of the
road, in reckless disregard of the wandering fowls, dogs, and even
pigs, which roam about. Pools of stagnant water and piles of refuse
add their quota to the malodorous confusion. Still the streets are not
unpicturesque. The elaborately carved fronts of the shops, the graceful
signs, with their red pennants, the gaily colored lanterns swinging to
and fro, the great umbrellas unfurled here and there over the itinerant
venders, all have a certain sort of charm.
After entering the gate of the Imperial City, the roads are gay with
carts, official chairs, and handsomely caparisoned horses. We sometimes
met attachés of the “Wai-Wu-Pu” and different Yamens hurrying to and
fro with despatches, or caught a glimpse, in the depths of his green
chair, of one of the great ministers, the thin white-bearded face of
Prince Ching, or the heavy Jewish-looking physiognomy of Na-Tung,
the new minister, who seems likely to grow in favor. Sometimes we
passed a bridal procession, with its gay, red-embroidered chairs,
or some splendid funeral, with the great red catafalque, covered
with magnificent embroideries (for red is used alike for wedding
chairs and for funeral decorations)--its massive, long poles held by
hundreds of red-gowned bearers and accompanied by the motley crew of
figurants, who are always hired for funeral celebrations in China; the
catafalque, followed by white-covered carts, carrying the mourning
white-garbed women of the family. Sometimes we passed a crowd of
yellow-gowned lama priests and monks returning from some celebration
in the Palace--sometimes, great droves of camels laden with coal
from the mountains or produce from afar. During the annual visit of
the Mongolian Princes to Peking we met them with their fur-dressed
and leather-booted followers, their quaintly caparisoned horses, and
splendidly bedecked camels, for they were domiciled in Palaces, within
the Imperial City.
All this we could see as we went on our way to the Great Gate of
the Palace, itself. Within the walls and at the gate of the Empress
Dowager’s Palace, with the usual Chinese tolerance, the consideration
of the great for the poor, beggars are allowed to come at certain
times each day, to receive remnants from the Imperial kitchen. The
poor are also permitted to examine the garbage of the Palace, before
it is carted away. There was always a motley crew of ragged beggars
around this gate, who received, apparently, kind consideration from the
soldiers and guards. At least, they were allowed to ply their trade and
to follow their avocations in peace.
I found the light, in the magnificent hall which had now become my
studio, so obscure, even in front of the great plate-glass doors, that
it was almost useless to attempt to work. After trying to do so for two
or three days, I told the head eunuch it was impossible. I did not wish
to trouble Her Majesty with my annoyances, for she had enough of her
own cares, and seemed to grow daily more and more anxious and depressed
over the constantly growing rumors of war in Manchuria; but it was
impossible to work longer where I was, and I decided I would have one
of the ends of the hall, which projected beyond the overhanging eaves
of the verandah, fitted up for my work, and in order to have sufficient
light, even here, it was necessary to have the upper paper windows
replaced by plate-glass. The eunuchs demurred. They said this would
necessitate great changes, with heavy expense, besides establishing a
precedent, as no other part of the Palace had plate-glass windows at
the top! The next time the Empress Dowager came in, I told her it was
impossible to work as it was. She, herself, remarked how dark it was,
and noticed the reflection from the yellow roof opposite. And when
she heard what I wished, she ordered it to be done at once, saying she
would “speak to the Emperor” about it. An order of Her Majesty’s was
always promptly carried out, and two days after, to my astonishment,
the plate-glass windows were placed as I wished. I had the divan that
was built under the windows removed, and all the furniture taken out
of this end of the hall. The eunuchs hesitated about removing an
immense elephant clock of wonderful mechanism, as it had not been
moved for a hundred and fifty years, but I finally accomplished even
this! Even without the furniture, this end of the hall was but a small
space in which to work; but I had a fairly good light, and a quiet
place to paint in, for the first time since I began painting the
Empress Dowager. Here I was sufficiently far away from Her Majesty’s
apartments, as well as from those of the Princesses and Ladies, to
be able to work in quiet, without interruptions. A set of European
furniture had been placed in the great hall, when it was decided to
give it to me, and though this did not please me, in an artistic sense,
it being absolutely out of keeping with its environment, I found the
well-cushioned easy-chairs a real comfort when I wanted to rest.
As soon as I was comfortably settled in my new studio, the Empress
Dowager began to talk of having another large portrait begun--large
enough to represent her with all the paraphernalia of Royalty (the
ceremonial fans, the three-fold screen, the nine phenix, plants of
heavenly bamboo) and pyramids of apples--all emblematic, or symbolic.
I told Her Majesty it would be best to make a small study for this
picture, and that the size of the portrait could be determined on after
this was finished. She readily assented, and I began the small study.
There were a number of beautiful thrones in the Palace, any one of
which would have suited the lines of the composition. I selected one
of the superb, antique thrones of red lacquer, a magnificent work of
art, but the Empress Dowager did not care for this throne. It was not
a matter of whether the lines or color suited the picture, the point
was to have everything “Ho-shih” (proper), as the Chinese say. With
the Chinese, propriety is a religion, and a thing that is “proper”
must conform to tradition, for tradition and propriety are synonymous.
The question of the throne was left in abeyance for the moment, as Her
Majesty said there was one she would like to have painted, which she
would have found before I began the big picture.
[Illustration: PRINCE CHING]
I finally began the sketch. Her Majesty was dressed in one of her
official winter gowns. Its fur lining rendered the already heavily
embroidered satin stiffer than ever, and any stray folds that might
perchance have appeared, were pulled out by a heavy fringe of pearls
around the hem. She had on her famous pearl mantle over an official
jacket. In her coiffure she wore her long tassel of pearls, and many
curious ceremonial jewels. She had on fur-lined undersleeves, which
hid half her beautiful hands. The effect of her tiny finger-tips, with
their long curving nails and jeweled shields, the palms not being
visible, was most unfortunate. Added to this, she held them tightly
together in her lap, and the lines were obscured by a large, pale-blue
handkerchief in one hand.
My heart fell. Thus I would lose one of her chief beauties. I begged
Lady Yu-Keng to ask her to pose her hands differently. She said she
could not do such a thing; so, in my inelegant Chinese, I told Her
Majesty I did not like her hands as they were. “But I like them like
that,” she said, looking at me with a charming expression of amused
astonishment, amazed that it was possible for any one not to like what
she liked; and she kept her hands as they were, and I was obliged to
begin the picture with the hands in that position.
The first sketch was quickly made, and Her Majesty expressed herself
as pleased with it. Then came the discussion as to the size of the
portrait. I made my measurements, and thought five feet by eight
was large enough, but when she saw what size it was going to be,
she thought six feet by ten would be better. The Palace carpenters
were accordingly called in, and I gave them as accurate directions
as I could, for making a stretcher. The Chinese workmen are clever,
patient, and apt at carrying out suggestions, and the stretcher was
satisfactorily made. But the canvas was to be put on this stretcher,
and this they seemed to have no idea of, so I was obliged to try to
do it myself. Owing to the size of the canvas, I was compelled to
stand on a stool six feet high (they had no ladders), with the huge
stretcher before me. An army of eunuchs stood around to assist me,
presided over by a head eunuch. I used the iron pincers and pulled
the canvas, myself. It was held at the corners by eunuchs, also on
stools; one eunuch held the tacks, another the hammer, etc. Each order
I gave was repeated in a loud voice by the head eunuch, and at every
failure to comprehend my directions, the working eunuchs were rebuked
and threatened with the “bamboo.” Finally, I accomplished the difficult
task, and the great canvas was stretched. Her Majesty was greatly
exercised when she learned I had done it myself. She said that I should
have made the eunuchs “stretch four or five,” until they learned to do
one properly. But I hadn’t sufficient canvas for such experiments, and
could get no more in China.
CHAPTER XXVI
SOME SOCIAL CUSTOMS--MANCHU AND CHINESE
I met the wives and families of all the Princes, nobles, and high
Manchu officials in Peking, for they came to the Court at stated
intervals, besides on many special occasions, when they were invited
by Her Majesty. The most frequent of these visitors to the Palace
were Prince Ching’s wives and daughters, the wives of the Emperor’s
brothers, his father’s secondary wives and their daughters, and the
sisters of the young Empress, one of whom is the clever Princess Schun.
The widow of the Grand Secretary Yung Lu, who lost, in one year, her
husband and a promising son, and who was nearly crazed by grief, also
came often. She was not very brilliant, nor the kind of woman to appeal
to Her Majesty; but her grief seemed to touch the Empress Dowager,
and she received special marks of favor when in the Palace, and came
and went as she willed. A step-daughter, whom she had herself brought
up through a very delicate childhood, was the wife of the Emperor’s
brother, Prince C’hun. Should they have a son he will probably be the
next heir to the Throne.
On their marriage the brides of nobles of a certain rank go to
the Palace to be presented to the Empress Dowager. This ceremony
corresponds to the presentation, on their marriage, of ladies at
the English Court. These brides are always magnificently dressed in
embroidered gowns of rich colors, and wear, for the first time, the
Court coiffure of the married ladies, the magnificent golden filigree,
jeweled construction, which I have already described, and for this
occasion they wear a profusion of jewels. The Manchu ladies use much
more discretion in wearing jewels than the Chinese ladies. The latter
will sometimes wear as many as fifteen bracelets on each arm, and the
number of jewels they put in their coiffure seems to be limited only by
the space they have at their disposal.
The brides come to the Palace in red satin bridal chairs, accompanied
by their husband’s mother and his married sisters, if he has any; if
not, by his nearest women relations. On their arrival in the Precincts
they first go to the Throne-room and make their bows and prostrations
before the Empress Dowager, to thank her for the gifts she has sent.
Sometimes Her Majesty would speak to them at some length, seeming to
give them advice. After making their obeisances to her, they then make
their salutations to the young Empress. They spend the day at the
Palace, take luncheon with the young Empress and Princesses, and leave
about three o’clock. These brides were generally very young girls,
though sometimes I was surprised to see that they had well passed
the first bloom of youth, for I had thought that all Oriental women
were married very young. The young Empress was always charming to the
brides, and seemed to watch over their pleasure, and try to make them
enjoy this rather trying day, when they were the observed of all
observers. Among these brides, the winter I was in Peking, was the wife
of the Emperor’s youngest brother, a charming young girl with sweet
manners, far more attractive in every way than Yung Lu’s daughter, the
wife of Prince C’hun.
The Chinese look upon a daughter, at her birth, as a misfortune, one
of the ills that must be endured, and while loving her individually,
a daughter is not welcomed into the family nor allowed the privileges
of a son. It is, however, quite different with the Manchus. A daughter
not being able to sacrifice to the ancestors, even Manchus prefer a
son; but a daughter is a welcome member of the family, and she has
a distinct and independent position of her own. One of the Chinese
ministers to Washington once told me that the only unmarried woman in
the world whose position is analogous to that of the “American Girl,”
in her own family, is the Manchu girl.
As long as the Manchu girl remains unmarried, she is a veritable power
in the household. She ranks as high as her brother, and always takes
precedence of her brother’s wife, even if that wife be double her age
and married before she was born. She precedes her mother even, as she
is of the Blood and her mother of “another family.” Not only has she
these social privileges, but she has well-defined legal rights. Her
father cannot make a disposition of his property without his eldest
daughter’s consent. She can go into her brother’s house, dismiss his
servants, and generally direct his affairs. Her word has more weight
as to the bringing up of her brother’s children than his wife’s, as
she is a sister, a born relation, and the wife is only an acquired
relation. When she marries, however, she becomes a member of the
family into which she marries; but even then, such is the ascendancy
of the girl in the Manchu family, even after her marriage into another
family, she often goes on dictating to her brother’s family and her
own as before, if she does not find her own household duties and her
own family sufficient occupation to keep her from doing so. Such is
the force of consanguinity among the Manchus, and the position of the
daughter in the family.
The unmarried Manchu girl has not only this liberty in her family, but
she has more liberty in the outside world than any other Oriental woman.
They are not so restricted in their social intercourse as any other
Oriental women, and while they are not so literary as the Chinese, they
have more social qualities and are brighter conversationalists, being
both witty and gay.
They are not forced to marry against their inclinations and some remain
single to the end of their days, or marry late in life if they so
desire. These unmarried ladies are not only looked up to by their own
families, but they are not regarded as being objects of commiseration
by the world at large. On the contrary, they are rewarded with
triumphal arches and splendid monuments if they have passed a long
and exemplary life of maidenhood. Although the brides that came into
the Palace were generally young, one who came to make her bow to the
Empress Dowager, while I was there, was a lady of forty-two summers.
She had brought up two or three families of brothers’ children and
directed their households; but she finally succumbed to the charms of a
wealthy official, who had lost his wife two years before and who had a
number of children on which she could continue to practise her theories
as to their bringing up. Had she held out longer and died a maiden, she
might have had an arch built to her memory after death and gone down to
posterity.
Only ladies, young girls and boys under seventeen were ever guests of
the Empress Dowager in her Palace. The Manchu nobles and high officials
were invited on certain days to the Theater, but there was always the
high intervening screen between them and Her Majesty’s and the Ladies’
loges. The Princes and nobles who have official positions, see the
Empress Dowager in the Audience Hall, and she is now over sixty. She
has more liberty than before, but generally their Audiences are with
the Emperor alone, and they never come into the Ladies’ Precincts. At
the performance of the European circus in the Palace grounds I saw, for
the first time, nearly all the Princes and Manchu officials.
The Manchus are a taller race than the Chinese and more
athletic-looking. They are fond of exercise, indulge in archery,
riding, etc, and do not look down upon a military career, as do the
Chinese. It is said that polo playing, which the English got from
India, originated among the Tartars, and that it is still played
in Manchuria. I never saw polo played by the Manchus, but I have
seen some daring riding done by the young nobles that would seem to
show they could play polo if they would. The Manchu nobles have an
inherited military rank, and they also receive military advancement for
proficiency in archery and riding. The warlike spirit that prompted
the Manchus and their progenitors, the Nu-Chih Tartars, who not only
conquered China, but, as “the Huns,” almost overran Europe itself,
is no longer so militant as it was. The modern Manchu is becoming
almost as peace-loving as the Chinese themselves, but there are still
qualities which show their descent from a race of warriors.
They wear the ordinary Chinese costume, and though it is said “the
shaven head and wearing of the queue” were instituted as marks of
degradation for the Chinese when they were conquered by the Manchus,
the Emperor himself and all the Manchu nobles shave their heads and
wear the queue! They wear satin boots with white kid soles. Their hats,
in summer of finely woven straw, and of fur in winter, have the crown
covered with a tassel of red silk, surmounted by the jeweled button
denoting their ranks. From this button stands out, almost at right
angles, a jade-mounted aigret, mixed with the peafowl feathers, if they
have attained that rank. In winter, they wear splendid sable short
coats. Except these sable topcoats, fur is never worn on the outside of
a garment in China, but is used only as a lining.
When I saw the Manchu nobles at the circus at the Summer Palace, they
wore the splendid summer Court costume, embroidered in the double
dragon, reaching below the knee. They were tightly belted in around the
waist, and very full and ample across the shoulders, giving the men the
appearance, at least, of broad shoulders, and enhancing their already
fine figures. One could see that the Emperor was the “glass of fashion
and mold of form” of the young nobles; for they all aimed, as much as
possible, at his slenderness of figure and even imitated his carriage.
The young dandies, however, wore a much greater profusion of ornaments
than His Majesty ever indulged in. The belt buckle, the handsomest
ornament worn, was of carved jade, ruby quartz, or of beautifully
chased gold set with precious stones. They were then wearing a
profusion of ornaments dangling from their belts--embroidered cases
for fans, chop-sticks and knives, and many other ornaments besides the
watch, an indispensable adjunct to every Chinese gentleman’s costume.
This is worn hanging from the belt in a handsome, embroidered case
with an open front, so that the elaborate case, generally studded with
jewels, beautifully enameled, or curiously incised, could be seen.
This case had a sort of fob attachment made of silken cord, woven into
quaint designs and finished generally with a wonderfully carved piece
of jade, ruby quartz, or some other curious stone.
Manchu ladies wear their gowns long and loose, hanging from the
shoulders, and never show the line of the waist, nor the outline of the
figure; but the men belt in their gowns tightly, and are very proud of
a small waist.
Among the social customs in China, which obtain also among the
Manchus, is “concubinage.” But it exists in such a form that in its
actual state, it might more properly be called “plurality of wives.”
The concubine, or secondary wife, as I will call her, is taken from
the bosom of her family, and her position in her husband’s family
is considered as secure as that of the first wife. Though the first
wife only has a legal standing, custom gives the secondary wife equal
rights, and she is no more likely to be put aside than the first wife.
There are, I suppose, men in China who put away a secondary wife, if
they are wealthy enough to have taken one or several, but they would be
socially and generally ostracized.
The man marries in China as soon as he reaches manhood. Some young girl
who is of the same social standing and has the requisite qualities
for his wife is chosen for him by his parents. This is the legitimate
wife. She is the first and remains first always, taking precedence of
any and all others that may be chosen. The secondary wife is often of
the same class as the first wife. She is generally chosen by the man
himself, and is taken from some good family who may be poor, and she is
an honest young girl.
She is received, on her entrance into the household, by the wife and
the man’s mother, if she be alive, and her position in the family is
assigned to her. While she must pay court and due respect to the first
wife, she has her own servants and her own rights, and leads her own
independent life. The first wife has entire authority, in certain
matters, over the secondary ones, but they generally live amicably
together. As the first wife is married several years before any second
wife is taken, and as she is also generally their superior in age, this
entitles her to their respect, aside from her legal standing and her
position as first in the household. The secondary wives stand in the
presence of the first wife until she asks them to sit. Should they have
any children, the latter call the first wife “mother,” and though the
mother has her part in bringing up the child, it calls her, if she be
a secondary wife, by her first name, and, in important matters, her
authority over the child must give way to that of the first wife. But
the first wife rarely abuses her authority over the children any more
than over the other wives, and does not interfere except for, what she
thinks is, the child’s good.
In theory, according to our ideas, and with American or European women,
this would be a sad state of affairs, but practically, as it exists in
China and with Chinese women, it seems to work well. The arrangement of
the houses in China is also well adapted for this kind of life. There
are a number of courts surrounded by pavilions, each court and its
pavilions forming a unit--a separate dwelling-place--this unit being a
part of a great whole.
The wives live in harmony together, and seem like a family of sisters.
The first wife apparently takes pride in the good conduct and handsome
appearance of the others, and there seems to be very little jealousy
among them.
If this be the position of the secondary wife in the families of the
gentry and nobility, one may imagine how much more exalted it is in
the Imperial family and how the secondary wife of an Emperor would be
considered. To have their daughter chosen as the secondary wife of an
Emperor is looked upon as an honor in the highest Manchu families.
Of course, they would prefer to have her the first wife, for she
has more power, but none of them would demur at an alliance of the
secondary kind for their daughter, for she may thus become the mother
of an Emperor, and she does become, by this marriage, a member of the
Imperial family, and is treated as such. She ranks higher than any of
the Princesses or Ladies of the Court, and takes precedence of all
except the first wife, or a secondary wife, of the Emperor, who may
have been married before she was. Her place is at the side of the first
wife, the Empress. In the Palace she is called by the same title as
the first wife, a Manchu word meaning “Mistress.” She cannot wear the
Imperial yellow, it is true, but she does wear the Imperial orange,
which no other Lady at Court can wear.
These secondary wives are not taken for some physical quality from
among the masses; they are not in the Palace as the result of a caprice
of the Emperor. They are from the highest families in the land. They
are generally chosen by the Emperor’s mother, if she be alive, with
as much care as the first wife, and her position is inferior, only
from an official standpoint, to that of the Empress. She may even
become Empress herself on the death of the first wife and those who
precede her. The Emperor of China has no “harem,” but he may have
as many wives as he wishes. His wives never live together in the
promiscuity of a harem, where all individuality is lost. Each wife
has her own establishment and her own position, and is not dependent
on her physical charms for her maintenance in that position, any more
than is the first wife. Should she be the mother of children, she
may advance beyond the others who have none, excepting always the
first wife; and even should she have no children, she has always her
separate establishment and is considered a member of the family. The
Emperor Kwang-Hsu has two wives, both designated by the same title in
the Palace. In this account of my experiences I only allude to the
first wife, because it would be confusing to speak of two Empresses
where there is also an Empress Dowager, and also because the first
wife, in this instance, is so much the stronger character and the more
interesting personality.
CHAPTER XXVII
PRESENT-GIVING IN CHINA
Present-giving is really carried to great excess all over China,
and whatever obtains in China obtains at the Palace. The Palace is
spoken of in Peking as the “Inside,” that is, the heart of the Empire.
From this “Inside,” customs and habits flow and pulse over the rest
of China, as the blood does from the heart, by a thousand arteries
reaching to the very confines of the Empire, and it also receives the
impress of what passes on outside among the people. Whether it be,
in the instance of present-giving, that the custom has grown from
the “Inside” to the “Outside” or vice versa, I know not, but it is
universal in China. However, it probably reaches its greatest excess in
the Palace.
Births, marriages, and deaths are all marked by presents, and there is
a very riot of present-giving at the New Year! Every one then exchanges
them, from the lowest to the highest. Next comes the anniversary of
the birth. This is celebrated with an unheard-of pomp in China. The
more exalted the rank and the greater the age, the more splendid is
the celebration and the more magnificent the presents. The Emperor’s
Birthday was the first I saw celebrated, and I was astonished at
the number and elegance of the presents that flowed into the Palace
on this occasion. But at the Empress Dowager’s Birthday all this was
far surpassed; and her presents exceeded in number and elegance His
Majesty’s, for she was celebrating more years than the Emperor, and the
number and value of birthday presents increase in proportion to the
years. Their elegance and number are also regulated by the rank. The
presents the Grand Secretary and the Prime Minister receive on such
occasions would quite astonish a Westerner, and, of course, far surpass
in number and magnificence what would be offered to the president
of a department, as his would exceed, in elegance, those offered to
secretaries of the Board.
Every festival, every ceremony, and all anniversaries are marked by
presents, in the Palace. There is scarcely a day that presents are not
sent into the Palace, that some are not sent out, and rarely a day when
some presents are not exchanged by those “Inside.” The Empress Dowager
and the Emperor receive the greatest number, and, of course, they
give the greatest number. This seemed to me the greatest extravagance
of the Empress Dowager. At every change of season, she presents the
young Empress, the Princesses, and Ladies, without reference to her
favorites, with silks, dresses, shoes, and ornaments appropriate to the
season, and not only do the Ladies receive these articles of wearing
apparel at the changes of the season: she gives them many presents
at each festival. Besides this, she gives nearly all the expensive
Court dresses that are worn at the Palace, which cost, with their
embroideries, from three to six hundred dollars each. She presents
the Ladies with coiffures and many jeweled ornaments as well. On
the occasion of a wedding among the Manchu nobility, which must be
announced to the Court before it takes place, Her Majesty presents
the bride handsome rolls of silk, embroideries, and jewels. On the
occasion of births among the courtiers, she sends handsome ornaments
to be worn by the new-born child. Even on the death of certain people,
she sends handsome presents to the family, or something to be worn by
the departed, if it should be a widow, who had led a long and exemplary
life of widowhood, and had devoted herself to charity and good works.
When the ladies of the Legation were first received at the Palace,
the Empress Dowager naturally followed the Chinese Imperial custom of
giving each lady a present. This precedent having been established
and seeming to have given pleasure, when the ladies were received
the next time, which was after the Boxer rebellion, she gave them
presents again. Unfortunately, this act was construed into a desire
on her part to wheedle the foreigners, and curry favor, so that she
might receive better treatment at the hands of the Powers. The truth
is, she loves to play the Lady Bountiful, and she never mixes up the
social with the political, and I am sure she had no “arrière-pensée”
but was simply indulging her usual bent. After the first few Audiences
(when the presents were really of value), Her Majesty gave small and
unimportant presents at the garden parties, which were made the subject
of ridicule. Her Majesty had heard that the ladies did not wish to
receive such handsome presents as she had first given, and she hence
gave inexpensive souvenirs. Finally, the Ministers asked the Chinese
Foreign Office to request the Empress Dowager to give no more presents
at the Audiences, and the custom was abolished; though Her Majesty
continued to give presents in private, and she still sends, on the four
great Chinese festivals, flowers, fruits, and confectionery to all the
ladies of the Legation, as well as to every lady who has ever been
received at the garden parties, and on the departure of any Minister
from Peking, she sends his wife some parting presents.
But though present-giving has been stopped at the Audiences of the
foreign ladies, it goes on with the same excess in the Palace and among
officials in China. At each of Their Majesties’ Birthdays, in spite of
their protests and edicts to prevent it, presents pour into the Palace!
Every official who has ever been presented in Audience, or who has the
right, by his official position, to send anything, does so. Edicts
from the Throne to prevent it will remain as ineffectual as those with
reference to the binding of the feet of the Chinese women (which Her
Majesty has for years been “recommending” in edicts to be abolished),
for it has become so thoroughly a part of Chinese life as to be almost
indispensable. Present-giving in China is one of those “unwritten
laws” whose tyranny is hardest to break away from. Though the system
of present-giving is a great tax on the officials, as well as their
subordinates, in this instance the change must come from the people.
As I was an inmate of the Palace for so long, of course I came in for
my share of presents from the Empress Dowager. At every festival I was
remembered, as well as the Princesses and Ladies of the Court, and when
presents were sent to the ladies of the Legation, she sent similar ones
to me. Many of the presents she made me showed a real consideration
for my comfort and displayed much forethought. When the weather became
cool, and the Ladies of the Court put on wadded dresses, Her Majesty
sent one of her maids to my apartments to get one of my tailor-made
dresses. She had the Palace tailors copy this in wadded silk. It was
wonderful how well they did it, too, for, as I knew nothing about it,
I could give no advice. She ordered a few changes made in the severity
of the tailor-costume, thinking it was too hard in its lines. She had
a long, soft sash to tie at the side, which, she decided, made it look
more graceful. When the Princesses put on furs, Her Majesty, herself,
designed for me a long fur-lined garment which she thought would be
comfortable to paint in. She had some trouble in arriving at a result
which pleased her, which would be warm enough, and which, at the same
time, would not interfere with the freedom of movement necessary for
me to work with ease. At the time of the Chinese New Year, she sent me
two curiously fashioned fur-lined dresses. She had the skirts copied
from old pictures. They were not unlike our pleated skirts, with an
embroidered panel down the center of the front. The jackets were a sort
of compromise between European and Chinese, and the costumes were not
only pretty but very comfortable.[7]
[7] Her Majesty said my individuality was not lost in these costumes,
and that I was clothed in attire suitable to the Chinese interior. She
had now devised a costume for me which was really in harmony with my
new environment. Our rough tweeds and somber garments, outlining and
defining the figure, looked mesquin and out of place in these great
halls. The bright colors and simple lines of the gowns of the Chinese
ladies are much more in keeping with their interiors. Her Majesty’s
artistic taste had divined this, and she had made several attempts to
devise something for me that was in harmony with the Chinese “milieu”
and at the same time comfortable.
[Illustration: THE AUTHOR IN CHINESE COSTUME]
For wearing with these she ordered a sable hat, for the Chinese ladies
wear some sort of coiffure on the head, winter and summer. This had an
embroidered crown of pale lavender satin, with long satin streamers
embroidered in gold with good-luck emblems. The brim could be worn
either turned off the face or pulled over the ears and tied under the
chin with lavender strings. She said she had some trouble in finding
a design which she thought would suit me. This hat she had also had
copied from old prints. I learned later she had tried three sorts of
sables before she got a color which she thought would be becoming to my
unfortunate blonde hair! On the front of the brim she placed a Princess
Button. This is worn only by Ladies of the Court, and represents the
Flaming Pearl of the Dynasty. It was established by the founders of the
Dynasty and is the distinguishing jewel of the members of the Imperial
family. It consists of a large pearl, surrounded by three alternating
rows of seed-pearls and corals, which are supposed to represent flames!
This Flaming Pearl, symbol of the “Unattainable,” is the eternal quest
of the double dragon!
Her Majesty also presented me with a number of other charming things
that I shall always treasure as coming from her, and as evidence of her
consideration for “the stranger within her gates,” or as spontaneous
offerings from her naturally generous nature--ever desirous of giving
pleasure. I wish I might have preserved the flowers and curious grasses
which she, herself, gathered and gave me on our many promenades around
the beautiful grounds of the Summer Palace, but which, alas! are
withered and gone!
CHAPTER XXVIII
SOME WINTER DAYS AT THE PALACE
The big, official portrait for St. Louis was advancing. I was able
to accomplish much more now that I had a place where I could work
uninterruptedly, and quietly study the painting when I was not working.
Her Majesty came, with her usual retinue, to pose, but it was not at
fixed times, and was often when I did not expect her. She was looking
more and more anxious these days; but she came to pose whenever it
was necessary, and was very particular as to all the details in the
portrait. She often had the jewels and ornaments changed, and her pearl
mantle was made over, after she saw it in the first sketch, as she did
not like its form.
The throne, about which there had been a question when I began the
portrait, and which had been a present to Her Majesty from the late
Emperor Tong Chih, her son, had been “lost” during the Boxer troubles,
but Her Majesty thought it might be reproduced from descriptions and
from sketches by the Palace painters who had seen it; but I could not
consent to work either from memory or other painters’ sketches, and
I was finally obliged to paint, “faute de mieux,” one of the carved
teakwood thrones of which Her Majesty is so fond. This throne did not
suit the straight lines of the composition so well as almost any other
in the Palace would have done, but Her Majesty wished it.
I found the representation of the nine life-size phenix, in vigorous
colors, on a blue cloisonné screen placed almost touching the throne,
very difficult to represent, so that they did not seem to be real birds
flying around her head. The vases of flowers and ornaments were also
placed at exactly equal distances on either side of the throne, but it
was necessary to paint them this way. It would not have been “proper”
otherwise. The figure was in the exact center of the three-fold
screen, and so near it, it was impossible to get any atmosphere in
the background. There was not a fold in either gown or sleeves; but
I had now resigned myself to convention and tradition, and I copied
mechanically what was placed before me, and made no more efforts at
artistic arrangements, nor tried any experiments in execution. I worked
like a good artisan, finishing so many inches a day.
The weather was now too cold for anything but the short constitutional,
and, besides, there was no place in the Winter Palace to tempt one to
promenades--only the walled-in courts and the shut-in walks, between
high walls. Even Her Majesty’s promenades were confined to going to the
Audience Hall in the morning, and walking through the courts, from one
Throne-room to another.
Every day we saw the Empress Dowager for some moments in her
Throne-room before I went to my work. On Theater days, I made her my
morning salutation in her loge at the Theater, and when the light
faded and I could paint no more, I would go into the young Empress’s
and the Ladies’ loge for the last play and the spectacular finale,
when there were always some good illuminations and pretty effects. Her
Majesty and the young Empress seemed now to perfectly understand that
I wanted to work, and must work, in order to finish the large portrait
for the St. Louis Exposition. They saw I appreciated the amusements and
ceremonies, etc, but that I did not wish them to interfere with my
work. When there was a special festival, or some fine ceremony, I was
always called in, but otherwise I might go or not, as I wished.
I lunched generally with the Ladies, with the charming young Empress as
gracious hostess, and dined at night at Her Majesty’s table. Two huge
copper braziers had now been placed in the Throne-room, and though so
picturesque with the blue flames curling above their openings in the
top, they made but little impression upon the temperature of this lofty
room. The curtains over the immense doors that opened on the courts
were constantly being raised for the passage of some eunuch, and it was
very drafty. But one could at least warm one’s hands by the braziers,
and they were so beautiful and picturesque, I was reconciled to being a
little cold; besides, I soon became accustomed to the temperature. The
Chinese Ladies wear heavy fur-lined dresses in the house, and cannot
stand the rooms very warm.
At dinner, a large carpet was now placed under the table, which was an
improvement over the cold marble floors. This was done for my comfort,
for the Chinese Ladies wear two-inch-thick cork soles to their
fur-lined shoes. Down the center of the table, during the winter, there
were several silver chafing-dishes, with burning charcoal beneath their
steaming contents. Soups, vegetables, and meat stews were thus kept
boiling hot on the table. One night I suggested to one of the eunuchs
to place the claret-bottle near the fire before serving it, that the
chill might be taken off. One very cold day, soon after, the eunuch
brought in a large teapot, and began pouring the boiling claret out
of this! The Chinese drink their wines hot, and he thought he would
improve on my suggestion of “taking off the chill,” and he naïvely
remarked “it was better for me to drink it thus on such a cold day!”
When there was no Theater, and it became too dark to paint, I would
join the young Empress and Ladies in their sitting-room at the left of
Her Majesty’s Throne-room and there await dinner. The young Empress
would then teach me Chinese. She was very particular about my accent
and seemed to take a real interest in my progress. The Chinese language
is very difficult for a beginner, even for one who has a good ear,
for the “tone” or inflection with which you pronounce the word may
change its meaning. Sometimes one after the other of the Princesses
would repeat the same word in different tones and make me repeat it
and then give the meaning of each tone. They would sometimes make puns
on words, or give me a string of difficult words for the accent and to
improve my enunciation, as the French teach the children, “Trois gros
rats dans trois gros trous.” When I would finally get quite tangled
up with these words I would retaliate with “Peter Piper picked a peck
of pickled peppers.” This would end the lesson for that day, for they
would all try to say it and get so hilarious that there was no effort
at further study, and dinner would be announced in the midst of the fun.
Sometimes the young Empress and the Ladies would play cards in the
evenings. Her Majesty seemed only to like her fairy game! The cards
were narrow slips of pasteboard with curious devices on each, but
little more than an inch wide, and there were one hundred and fifty
in a pack. I never succeeded in getting into the merits of the game.
Sometimes when the Ladies felt industriously inclined, they would weave
a kind of braid. The threads, gold, silver, or silk, were attached to
the center of a wooden table and were weighted at the ends. They would
weave these in and out into cunningly fashioned braids and ribbons. The
Princesses did a great deal of beautiful embroidery, making their own
shoes, which are of exquisitely embroidered satin, but they could not
do this at night, for only candles are used in the two Peking Palaces,
the Summer Palace being the only one in China lighted by electricity.
One night at dinner the young Empress asked me to come earlier than
usual the next morning, as there was something she wished me to see.
Several eunuchs were waiting at the gate of the Palace to conduct us
to the young Empress when we arrived at nine o’clock the next morning,
and I then learned this was her Birthday. I hurried in and found the
Imperial Princess and all the Ladies of the Palace, besides a number
of visitors, standing in front of the young Empress’s pavilion. They
told me she had asked them to wait to present their congratulations
until I came, and said that I was to go in first. I did so, and there,
on a throne, sat the young Empress in full Court dress, wearing the
Court coiffure, with its veil of pearls, which was most becoming to her
narrow patrician face. She was looking very sweet and gracious and held
out her tiny hand to me on my entrance. I bowed low over it and kissed
it, and wished her from the bottom of my heart “ten thousand” years
of happiness and all kinds of “felicitous omens.” I then started to
move out, but she told me to remain in the room at one side and watch
the Princesses and Ladies as they came in. Each made the prostrations
before her and presented a jade “ruyie,”[8] which she received with due
ceremony--the same ceremony as for the Emperor’s and Empress Dowager’s
Birthday!
[8] Also spelled jiu.
But these winter days were not all given up to the Theater and
festivals. There were some days of sadder import. Days of mourning
were often celebrated at the Palace. The anniversary of the deaths
of some Emperor or Ancestor was of frequent occurrence. It seemed to
me they celebrated the anniversary of the death of every Emperor of
the Dynasty! On these days there would be sacrifices at the ancestral
tablets and religious ceremonies early in the mornings. The Empress
Dowager and the whole Court would wear mourning for the day and there
was never any sort of amusement. White, which is full mourning, is
not worn on these anniversaries after the third, but violet and blue
(second mourning) is put on. The flowers worn in the coiffure were
also in violet, white or blue, the mourning colors. One night at dinner
the young Empress, who acts as Mistress of Ceremonies in the Palace,
told me the following was a day of mourning. She asked me if I would
wear one of the mourning colors, as it was the anniversary of the death
of the Emperor Tung-Chih (the Empress Dowager’s son).
The next day I put on a black dress, our mourning, and wore violet
flowers in my hair. When we entered, Her Majesty was sacrificing at
the small shrine in her sitting-room. She was dressed in dark violet,
heavily trimmed with black, and had not a flower of any kind in her
hair--only a few pearls. She looked very sad and was more earnest and
reverent at the sacrifice than usual, but when she had finished her
sacrifice, she bade us “Good morning” and inquired after our health,
with her usual consideration. We soon left the Throne-room for my
working-hall, and I did not see her again until after our dinner with
the Empress and Ladies, when we went into the Throne-room to make our
adieus. As I had not been wearing black for some time (as Her Majesty
said she didn’t like it), she now noticed that I had it on and she
asked Lady Yu-Keng, in an aside, “why.” She was told that when I knew
what anniversary it was, I had put it on on that account. She seemed
much touched, took my hand in both hers, and said, “You have a good
heart to think of my grief and to have wished to sympathize,” and tears
fell from her eyes on my hand, which she held in hers.
Poor lady! Private sorrows and sad memories were not all she had to
grieve her now. I had noticed her growing anxiety for many days! She
seemed to feel all the gravity of the political situation of China. As
the rumors of war between Russia and Japan grew, her anxiety increased
and she was looking sad and careworn. She seemed to be full of doubt
and fear, and quite unlike her usual self. I fancy she thought of the
unprepared state of her country and feared that it might be drawn into
this struggle. She seemed to be in doubt as to the course that was best
to be taken. Even should the Empire not be drawn into the conflict,
two hostile nations were to meet within its borders. The struggle was
to take place in Manchuria, the cradle of the Dynasty. That beautiful,
smiling country would be ravished by war, and the awful possibility
of the ancestral tombs being desecrated, loomed up before her. The
desecration of the tombs of one’s ancestors in China is supposed to
bring dire consequences upon the family, and a pious Chinaman would
face any material loss rather than run the risk of these tombs being
desecrated. She felt it all, and was sad indeed.
CHAPTER XXIX
RELIGIOUS RITES IN CHINA
There are three great religions in China--Buddhism, Taoism, and the
worship of Nature. The worship of Nature, in which is embodied their
highest idea of an Invisible Deity, is the purest form of religion in
China. Its Temples are situated in a magnificent Park in the Chinese
City of Peking. The Temple of Heaven, the most imposing of the group,
spherical and triple-domed, rears its proud height here and is visible
from afar. Its triple dome tiled, without, in the sacred green of
Nature and vaulted within in Heaven’s own blue, is surrounded by groves
of century-old arbor-vitæ. In other parts of the great Park are the
scarcely less splendid Temples to the Earth, to the Sun and Moon and to
Agriculture, and grandest, most unique of these Temples, is that to the
Invisible Deity. Its foundations are the Earth, its walls are limitless
Ether, its dome Heaven’s own vault! On its great open altar this
Nature worship has its culmination and reaches its highest fulfilment.
This altar is the Holy of Holies, the tabernacle of the group of
Temples consecrated to the worship of Nature.
It is built in the center of a great marble-paved space with the
secular arbor-vitæ radiating therefrom in long concentric avenues. It
is of pure white marble, round as is the Earth. The Trinity in Nature
and its Infinity are symbolized in its three superposed circles. Each
of the circular platforms is surrounded by an exquisitely carved
balustrade and approached by flights of nine steps each, to the north,
south, east, and west. The central point of the great upper circle thus
represents the center of the Universe, accessible from every point of
the compass.
Here in this symbolic center of the world, in this great Temple, whose
walls are Space, whose towers are Infinity, on this great triple altar,
canopied with Heaven itself, the Emperor of China, “Son of Heaven,”
glorifies the Invisible Deity and sacrifices for the prosperity of “the
Great, Pure Kingdom” and his people. This worship of the Invisible
Deity has no Priestly Hierarchy. The Emperor of China is its one High
Priest. He alone is worthy, as the Son of Heaven, to perform its unique
ceremonies, on its one great Altar, in its single great Temple of China.
The Emperor prepares himself for the great ceremony of the semi-annual
celebration on this altar by a rigorous fast of three days, spending
the final night before the celebration in a vigil in the Great Park of
the Nature Temples, where there is a Purifying Palace set aside for
his use. This glorification of the Invisible Deity at the summer and
winter solstices is the most solemn act performed by the Emperor in his
quality of Son of Heaven.
[Illustration: TEMPLE OF HEAVEN--PEKING]
The Emperor is not only the one High Priest worthy to sacrifice on the
great altars to the Invisible Deity, the Priestly Hierarchy of the
whole of this Cult of Nature is vested in his Sacred Person. He alone
offers sacrifices in the Temples of Heaven and the other Great Temples,
at times set aside in the Book of Rites, and on special occasions. When
famine devastates the land, when drought or any other National Calamity
is visited upon the Empire, the Emperor prays in these Temples for its
cessation, for he is not only the High Priest, but as “Son of Heaven”
is the expiator for the afflictions visited upon his people by Heaven,
and he publicly holds himself responsible for the misfortunes of the
Empire. According to the Book of Rites, he says in time of trouble, “I
will purify myself by sacrifice that these calamities may be lifted
from the Empire and the people. I alone am responsible.”
The great semi-annual celebration to the Invisible Deity is not only
the most solemn of the religious rites the Emperor performs; it is at
the same time the most formal of his official acts as ruler of the
Great Empire. He prepares himself, by fasting and subduing the body,
for the religious rite; for the official ceremony as Emperor of China,
he is accompanied by all his ministers and the highest nobles of the
land and surrounded by splendid pomp and Imperial pageantry.
Though in his triple quality of Emperor, High Priest, and Expiator,
he personally sacrifices only in the great Temples to Nature the
Emperor has all the religions of his Empire under his protection and
is their nominal Head. He assists indiscriminately at Buddhist or
Taoist ceremonies, and encourages with impartiality both cults. But
these religions have priestly hierarchies, and complicated Rituals,
and the Emperor is only the “Ex-officio” Head and High Priest. All the
festivals and fasts of both are celebrated in the Palace.
The Chinese are not a religious people, though so moral a race. They
are rather followers of a philosophy than members of religious bodies.
The two most popular religions of China, Buddhism and Taoism, have
become more or less outward forms. They are empty shells which may
once have contained the Spirit, but have now become mere conventional
representations of ancient rites. The Chinese people are really
Confucians, and Confucianism is a system of ethics, a philosophy
rather than a religion. Whether they be Buddhists or Taoists, they are
all followers of Confucius, and live by the rules the Great Sage has
laid down for them. The doctrines of Buddha and Laotze have become so
incrusted with error in China as to afford no moral or ideal help to
their followers. The Chinese participate indiscriminately in either
of these religious rites, many of which have become mere outward
spectacular ceremonies, where there is a great deal of display and much
form, but very little real worship. They get all their moral support
from the writings of Confucius and all their ideals from communion with
Nature. They are really philosophers and worshipers of Nature, and the
Emperor’s semi-annual sacrifice on the altar of Heaven and those at the
Temples of Nature typify the real worship of the people.
All the religious rites in China have their origin in, or are in
celebration of, some natural phenomenon or some periodical event in
Nature. They celebrate the summer and winter solstices, the equinoxes,
the New Year, the awakening of spring, when the sap (life-giving
element) begins to mount. The Harvest Moon is the time of the going to
rest of this life-giving element. Their complicated ceremonial is but
the crystallization of some simple observance of Nature’s fundamental
laws. This ceremonial has been kept alive all these centuries, because
of the vivifying spark of Nature which enkindled them. These rites
are now observed without a thought of their origin, but Nature still
remains their creative force. In spite of their conventions, the
Chinese have kept very near to Nature, and I believe this is the secret
of their wonderful vitality. They have been overrun and conquered by
many different races, and their assimilation of these conquerors is one
of the most astonishing things in the ethnic study of this wonderful
race.
No conquering race has ever changed the Chinese. Tartars, Mongols,
Manchus have all passed and become amalgamated with them. Their
conquerors have adopted the Chinese philosophy and religion, their
customs and habits, and even their system of government. And they have
never been able to impose any really new system of government upon the
Chinese.
These founders of Dynasties in China have all been “warriors bold” and
reckless marauders with little philosophy and no literature to speak
of. When the Manchus, the last of these conquerors, founders of the
present Dynasty, established themselves in Peking, in 1646, they were
a wild and warlike race. They, like all the other conquerors of China,
conciliated their vanquished foes by all sorts of concessions, and
they now rule by Chinese laws, and to-day are hardly distinguishable
from the Chinese. They have never made, any more than the other
conquerors, the slightest impress upon this calm and passive race; and
they have become Chinese. “To-day the Emperor Kwang-Hsu is recognized
as one of the best Chinamen in China.” The Manchu men to-day wear
Chinese dress. The Emperor, himself, shaves his head and wears the
queue, the one visible sign of degradation that is said to have been
imposed upon the Chinese at the time of the conquest. Oh! Irony of fate!
The Manchus are now as quiet and peaceful a race as the Chinese
themselves. They dread war. They live by the laws of Confucius. Though
not a race of thinkers or philosophers, they have come to have the
same ideals as the Chinese, and this, without the natural amalgamation
brought about by inter-marriage, for it is only within the last few
years that the Throne has issued an edict, allowing inter-marriage
between the Chinese and Manchu, and even, with this edict, up to this
time there has been very little mixture, by marriage, of the races. The
Chinese seem easily led and conquered, but their national vitality is
very vigorous, and has kept them pure in racial characteristics after
their thousands of years of national existence.
[Illustration: ALTAR TO THE INVISIBLE DEITY
In the Park of the Temple of Heaven]
The Festival of the Harvest Moon, which typifies the season when the
life-giving element in Nature goes to rest for the Winter, I have
already described. It is intermixed with legends and practices that
destroy its original meaning; but the ceremony to the awakening of
Spring has not departed from its original intention, and is simpler
and nearer Nature. The awakening of Spring, the day when the sap is
supposed to stir from its long sleep and to feel the first throes of
renewed life, is commemorated in a pretty, homely ceremony at the
Palace. The radish and young shoots of lettuce, the first vegetables
to receive the benefit of the rising sap, are presented on a silver
salver to Her Majesty by a kneeling eunuch. She partakes of them, and
then gives them to the young Empress and Ladies to taste of. When
Her Majesty raises the first radish to her lips, the young Empress,
Princesses, and Ladies assembled in her Throne-room, repeat the wish
for Imperial happiness, synonymous with “National prosperity.” This
wish is echoed by the high attendants in the ante-chamber, and reëchoed
by the eunuchs kneeling in the courts without, and still echoed and
reëchoed by every inmate of the Palace, until the waves of sound reach
to the outer walls. Then Her Majesty makes a wish that the sap may rise
in such abundance as to produce a fruitful season, that all the people
of the Great Empire may enjoy peace and plenty.
Thus are these first fruits of the awakening Spring partaken of with
a simple ceremony of praise and thanksgiving. Thus are these homely
plants consecrated with wishes made for the good of the country and the
happiness of its rulers. It was to me a beautiful ceremony, so simple
that it brought these people with all their conventions and all their
forms very near the heart itself of Nature.
The annual plowing of a furrow and sowing of the first seeds of the
year by the Emperor, the planting of a mulberry tree (to nourish the
silkworms) by the Empress, are other touches of Nature which show
how near the Chinese are to the heart of things. One of the honorary
offices which is considered a great mark of Imperial favor, and which
the highest ladies of the land receive with reverent gratitude, is to
be appointed “Guardian of the Cocoons”; for the silk industry is one
of the great sources of National prosperity in China. These ladies
of high degree, guardians of the cocoons, go in annual pilgrimage to
the mulberry groves, where the cocoons flourish, to make sacrifices
and prayers for the health and growth of the cocoon. Being so near
to Nature, the Chinese are naturally a pastoral people, a race of
agriculturists; and agriculture, being thus honored by the Sacred
Persons of Their Majesties, becomes a lofty ideal. Labor, which
the Emperor publicly performs, loses all taint and grows into an
Inspiration.
CHAPTER XXX
HER MAJESTY THE EMPRESS DOWAGER
The current story that the Empress Dowager was a slave-girl and is
of low origin is absolutely false. Her Majesty is the daughter of a
Lieutenant-General of the Manchu forces, a position only attainable by
members of the highest Manchu nobility. She belongs to the family of
the White Banner, second only to that of the Yellow Banner, of which
the Emperor of China, himself, is the head. At the time of the conquest
of China by the Manchus, there was a fierce struggle between these two
powerful families for the supremacy, and the Yellow Banner finally
carried the day. The Empress Dowager was brought up with great care and
highly educated by her father, a noble of great acquirements.
Like all young Manchu ladies of rank, she went to the Palace for
presentation to the then Empress and Empress Dowager between the
ages of seventeen and twenty. She immediately attracted them by her
cleverness and wit, as well as by her charm and beauty, and, being
of an honorable and high Manchu family, was at once considered as a
possible wife for the Emperor. On presentation to the Emperor, she met
also with his approval and was then chosen as one of the wives and
given her establishment at Court. She was the fifth chosen, and hence
ranked fifth on her marriage and was taken precedence of by the four
others who were married before she was.
She became at once a favorite, both with the Dowager Empress and
Empress, the first wife, as well as with the Emperor. She soon took
precedence over the wife just over her and became fourth wife,
for secondary wives can mount in degree. A brilliant woman, with
exceptional qualities, takes her place in a Chinese family, as in the
world, above that of her less endowed sister, unless this latter should
be the first wife. Her place can never be taken, except in case of
her death. The first wife of the Emperor Hsien-Feng died two months
before he came to the Throne and was never Empress. There were two
years of mourning, prescribed by the rites, during which time there was
no official Empress. Then the first of his secondary wives was made
Empress, and she it was who was the first wife when the present Empress
Dowager went into the Palace as fifth wife.
Two years after her marriage, she gave birth to a son, and five
years later, on the death of his father, this son became the Emperor
Tung-Chih; the young mother, together with the Empress, the first wife,
who had adopted him, were given the title of “Dowager Empress.” They
were appointed Co-Regents for the boy Emperor, and bore, respectively,
the titles of Empress of the Eastern Palace and Empress of the Western
Palace, with equal rank and power. She of the Eastern Palace was a
woman of quiet tastes, given to literary pursuits, with none of the
remarkable executive ability of her Co-Regent, the Empress of the
Western Palace, the great Tze-Hsi, who still rules the destiny of
China. Though so different, they lived amicably together, thoroughly
appreciated each other’s qualities, and are said to have had a sincere
affection for each other, which never weakened during the whole of
their long association, first as wives of the Emperor Hsien-Feng,
then as Regents for his son, and afterward as Regents for the present
Emperor Kwang-Hsu. The amicable relations of these two Empresses were
only severed by the death of the Empress of the Eastern Palace in 1881,
when posthumous honors were lavished upon her by the present Empress
Dowager.
China was passing through troublous times when the young Tung-Chih, son
of the Empress Dowager, came to the Throne. His father, the Emperor
Hsien-Feng died at Jehol, far from Peking, where the Court had gone at
the approach of the foreigners, who were aiding in quelling the Taiping
rebellion. The times were critical. The integrity of China, the future,
even, of the Empire, depended upon the action of its ministers and
its rulers at this crisis. In the absence of the Court from Peking,
some reactionary ministers, strongly anti-foreign, claimed they had
been appointed by the late Emperor as Regents for young Tung-Chih.
Had his mother and adopted mother, the two Empress Dowagers, joined
them, anarchy might have followed; and, at least, there would have
been serious foreign complications, for this anti-foreign party would
never have come to terms with the foreigners, who were then in Peking.
It was most important for the ruling Power, that is, the party which
should become Regents, to have the support of the Empresses who held
the Sacred Person of the young Emperor, under their care. They were
approached by both parties. The young Empress of the Western Palace,
absolutely unversed in Statecraft, and, up to that time, ignorant
of all that was passing outside the Palace walls, showed wonderful
perspicacity and rare judgment in her keen grasp of the situation at
this time. She repudiated the anti-foreign party and joined forces
with Prince Kung, whose name was then synonymous with Progress in
China--an enlightened Prince and the most pro-foreign of all the
Imperial Family--and she and the first Empress were appointed Regents
for the young Emperor. Prince Kung was the Minister who, thanks to
this coöperation of the Empress of the Western Palace, carried the
negotiations with France and England to a successful conclusion.
This first political act of the young Empress of the Western Palace
brought her into immediate notice, and showed the progressive statesmen
of China that they had an intelligent aid in her. The Grand Council
and the Princes of the Imperial Family at once recognized her superior
ability and they have always stanchly supported her throughout her
career and remained true to her in all vicissitudes. In fact, she has
known how to inspire loyalty and great devotion in all by whom she has
been surrounded.
It was through her wonderful grasp of the situation at this time and
the great executive ability she showed later, that the two Empresses
brought the Emperor Tung-Chih through his minority, and when he began
to reign in his eighteenth year, internal troubles had been quelled and
foreign complications avoided, and China was in a much more settled
and prosperous condition than when he came to the Throne, twelve years
before.
There was an interval of but two years in their long Regency for the
two Emperors, when the Emperor Tung-Chih, having reached his majority,
reigned. The death of her son, the Emperor, at the early age of twenty,
after only two years of actual reigning, was a dreadful blow to the
Empress of the Western Palace. She had, however, but a short time for
grief. With heart bleeding and sore, she was obliged almost immediately
to again assume the duties of Co-Regent with the Empress of the Eastern
Palace, for her nephew and adopted son, the young Emperor Kwang-Hsu.
The two Empresses had then another boy Emperor only five years old, to
protect, prepare for reigning, and to govern for.
One has only to be cognizant of events in China since the Dowager
Empress Tze-Hsi has ruled, to know the facts of her government. When
she took up the Regency, China was seething with rebellion and there
were foreign complications, requiring great tact and keen intelligence.
She has steered the ship of State between the two extremes, though she
has sometimes run it against the rocks of Scylla in trying to avoid the
whirlpool of Charybdis, and she has always been a “moderate” in her
political course. China having, for so many centuries, had no relations
with foreign powers, her statesmen being so absolutely unversed in
modern methods of diplomacy, has not made a brilliant record in her
foreign relations, and she has so frequently been made the dupe of
European diplomacy, it is not wonderful China has tried to defend
herself by duplicity: using what she thought the same methods she saw
were so efficacious in the hands of Europeans.
When the Empress Dowager gave up the reins of government to the Emperor
Kwang-Hsu, in the year 1889, after twenty-eight years of Regency, the
Great Empire was at that time in a prosperous condition. Its ports had
been opened to foreign trade, a fine Customs organization had been
established upon a firm basis, and China was at peace with the world.
The first part of the young Emperor’s reign was uneventful. He was
directed in most things by his ministers, and followed the moderate
policy laid down by the Empress Dowager. He seemed to have no special
views of his own and no designs of progress for China. Until the war
with Japan with reference to the suzerainty of Corea, in 1894, he
was a passive figurehead. The Japanese victories changed all this.
Their victory gave China one of her most humiliating lessons; for the
Chinese, who had given Japan the nucleus of its literature, its art
and architecture, looked down upon the Japanese as a race of imitators
and had a deep-seated contempt for them as a nation. This victory
almost awoke the passive leviathan--that is, China--from its long
sleep of national self-content. The young Emperor, smarting under this
galling defeat, felt that China had only been conquered by Japan’s
use of modern methods of warfare and determined on sweeping reforms
in the government. Full of youthful enthusiasm, he felt he could
put the Great Empire on the road to progress and wished to institute
sweeping reforms in all departments. He immediately abandoned the
moderate policy of the Regency and surrounded himself by a number of
hot-headed, self-seeking reformers, each pushing some new method of
reform. The reformers wished, at one fell swoop, to change the system
of education, the system of government--in fact to make such sweeping
changes that this conservative nation would have risen in a mass had
they been carried out. Besides the Radicals, who were the reform party,
there were also a number of discontents among the ultra-Conservatives,
who, seeing the Emperor’s anxiety and desire for change, began to push
forward certain schemes of their own. Finally, the ultra-conservatives
and reactionaries decided they would join forces with the Radicals,
hoping by so doing to change the National policy and the then existing
state of government. In the turmoil that would follow this upheaval,
each hoped to carry out his own designs, quite different in scope. Each
party made the Emperor believe that progress was its aim. The coalition
of these two diametrically opposed parties was for the purpose of
persuading the Emperor to depart from the moderate opportunist policy
which had been the motive power of the Empress Dowager’s régime. The
adherents of the Reform party were opposed to this moderate policy
because it was too conservative. Those of the Reactionaries objected to
it because it was too progressive. The power of the central government
vested in the young Emperor seemed likely to be crushed between these
two self-seeking factions. China’s wisest statesmen saw the peril,
sought the Empress Dowager, beseeched her to return from her retirement
and, for the salvation of China, to give the Empire again the benefit
of her wise counsels. When she realized the danger she returned. Such
is the ascendancy of the “ancestor” in China, the Emperor could not
refuse to accept the counsel of his August Ancestress, thus forced upon
him. He issued an edict in which he recalled “that Her Majesty the
Empress Dowager has on two occasions taken the reins of government,
with great success, at most critical times. In all she has done, Her
Majesty has been moved by a deep regard for the welfare of the Empire.
I have implored Her Majesty to be graciously pleased to advise me in
government, and I have received her assent.” The Emperor’s authority
was not wrested from him--he was not deposed. He still remained the
Emperor of China; but the Empress Dowager’s counsels were forced upon
him, he could not but accept them, and she became once more the real
Ruler of China. This was what foreigners call the “coup d’état” of 1898.
Her Majesty’s keenness of insight and fine judgment (as far as Chinese
questions are concerned), served her well again in this crisis. She
dismissed not only the self-seeking Radicals, but the self-seeking
ultra-Conservatives. Such of the Reformers as were caught were tried,
convicted of treason, summarily and cruelly punished. Those who
escaped, among them Kang-Yu-Wei, the ringleader of the Reformers,
were outlawed. The leader of the ultra-Conservatives, the Emperor’s
tutor, was not beheaded, but was sent into exile; for a tutor in
China occupies almost the position of a parent to his pupil, and
this position exempted him from more cruel punishment. These summary
proceedings on the part of the Moderates, led by Her Majesty, were
considered by the foreigners, who were altogether in sympathy with
the Reformers, as a reversion to anti-progress ideas, and hence were
considered anti-foreign. It certainly was an “anti-reform” movement
that caused the “coup d’état” of 1898, but had the adherents of the
so-called reformer Kang-Yu-Wei, whose subsequent career has proven how
self-seeking he was, carried the day; had his sweeping measures been
inaugurated, it might have brought China into a state of anarchy and
would certainly have been most pernicious to the Nation, for she was
not ready for the drastic measures the Reformers advocated, and the
great mass of the people would have rebelled against them.
The “coup d’état” and the consequent check upon the Emperor’s dreams
of progress was a great blow to him. He was not only chagrined at
the failure of his efforts for reform, by which he hoped to show the
world that China still counted as a power and to retaliate upon Japan,
but he was also profoundly discouraged when he discovered the real
nature and designs of his chosen instruments. He saw that he had been
over-sanguine in hoping to realize at once his enthusiastic dreams
for the immediate rehabilitation of China’s prestige; he saw that his
ardent desire for progress was not enough, and that to hope to reform
in a few years the century-old traditions of his most conservative
people was but the wild irrealizable dream of youth, and absolutely
impracticable. Though he knew he had been led away by his wishes for
reform to expect the impossible, the disappointment was none the less
severe and was most depressing to his sensitive nature. The reaction
took place. His never-too-strong constitution broke down under the
strain, and this breaking down of his health lent color to the reports,
which were immediately circulated among Her Majesty’s enemies as well
as among the foreigners, that the Empress Dowager was trying to kill
the Emperor! She was reported to have imprisoned him, was said to
be trying to poison him at one time and at another to starve him to
death--the nephew she had brought up through a delicate boyhood and
whom she cherished as her own son! Time has shown the truth of these
reports, for, had she so desired, she would have had no difficulty in
accomplishing his death. She had any number of instruments at her hand,
fanatically loyal to her and ready to carry out any of her wishes.
She still “assists” the Emperor in ruling; and, according to Chinese
tradition, she, being his “ancestor,” must always take the first
place. She sits upon the Throne, he upon a chair at her side. It would
be improper, according to all Chinese law, were it otherwise. The
foreigners speak of the Empress Dowager forcing the Emperor to stand
in her presence and to sit upon a stool while she occupies the Throne.
It is not Her Majesty who forces him to do this, it is an immutable
thousand-year-old tradition in China that a son must take a lower place
than his parent in his presence, be he Emperor or peasant. The Empress
Dowager still reigns. The times are still too troublous for her to
withdraw her experience from the councils of State, and though longing
for the quiet and rest so necessary to a woman of her age, and though
really anxious to retire, she feels the time has not yet come.
The Empress Dowager, having crushed the Reformers, and reseated herself
upon the Throne, was, from the time of the “coup d’état,” considered
to be anti-foreign and responsible for all the attacks upon foreigners
by ignorant Chinese that took place after that event. When, only
two years after the “coup d’état,” the secret society of the Boxers
began their sanguinary attacks upon the foreigners, Her Majesty was
considered responsible for them, was looked upon as aiding and abetting
the Boxers; and, by the foreigners at least, she was considered to
be the high priestess if not the originator of the order. But the
Boxer movement had no such high origin. It started among the people,
the humble people, in the Northern provinces of China, far from the
Capital, and had been in existence for a number of years before the
attack upon the Legations in 1900.
The open contempt of many of the foreigners living in China, not
only for the Chinese as a race, but for their most cherished customs
and traditions; the fact that the Chinese converts of the foreign
missionaries may break Chinese laws and still not be amenable to
Chinese punishment; the constantly renewed demands of the foreign
powers for territory, for the punishment of high Chinese officials and
hundreds of other acts that no body of foreigners in any country but
China would dare to try to force upon the people, finally aroused
even this peaceable, long-suffering Nation.[9] The worm turned. The
secret society of the Boxers took “China for the Chinese” as its motto,
and to “drive out the foreigner,” or, at least, curtail his rapidly
growing power, became its object. This society gained in force and
grew in volume until it reached the Capital. Here, from the obscure
classes among which it had its origin, it spread to the upper stratum
of society and had followers among the highest in the land. Certain
Princes of the Imperial Family even joined the ranks--among these
latter the father of the next heir to the Throne, the Prince Tuan.
These gave the movement an added force and made of it a patriotic
effort.
[9] Since the above was in type I find the following in F. Laur’s
“Siège de Péking.” In speaking of the cause of the Boxer rising, he
quotes Dr. Matignon as saying:
“C’est l’Europe tout entière qu’il faut mettre en cause. C’est parce
qu’elle n’a pas compris les Chinois, c’est parce qu’elle a cru que ce
peuple doux, somnolent, passif, pouvait, sans regimber, accepter toutes
les innovations, toutes les humiliations, que l’Europe s’est laissée
entrainer, et par ses missionnaires, et par ses ingénieurs....
Voilà pourquoi le mouvement Boxeur s’est produit. Ce mouvement, c’est
l’éveil du patriotisme chinois, avec toute l’intransigeance d’un
_nationalisme_ aveugle, ignorant, mais légitime.”
Then from smoldering discontent, it burst into open acts of violence
against the foreigners. The final spark which caused the outbreak in
the Capital and the attack upon the Legations is said to have been
the report, which gained immediate credence among the discontents,
that the Foreign Ministers were going to interfere with the Government
itself, and ask for a change in it; that they were to insist upon the
Empress Dowager’s retiring from the management of State affairs. This
interference, by the foreigners, with the sacred prerogatives of China,
as a Nation; this attempt at the removal of the Person of one of its
Sacred Rulers, aroused the people to a wild fury. Without waiting
to find out the truth of this report, and thinking, in their blind
ignorance, that by getting rid of the representatives of the Foreign
Powers, they might then be left in peace, the mob first attacked and
killed the German Minister, the Baron von Ketteler, as he was on his
way to the Tsung Li Yamen, which the Wai-Wu-Pu now replaces. Then
followed the general attack on the Legations.
The movement then became a veritable torrent, rushing madly along,
dashing aside all opposition and overwhelming right and reason.
The Emperor and Empress Dowager, powerful and autocratic as they are,
could not stem the current, and only by going with it could they ever
hope to bring judgment and reason to the surface again. No ruler in the
world can or ever has been able to stop an uprising of his people when
the latter felt they had right on their side or had been downtrodden
or oppressed. Their Celestial Majesties were obliged to wait until
the popular fury had somewhat abated before they could even attempt
it. No sane person could believe that the Empress Dowager, with her
natural intelligence and after thirty years of government and knowledge
of foreign methods, did not know that this attack on the foreign
representatives by the Chinese people would bring on severe reprisals.
But she was powerless to do more than she did at the time. Their
Majesties could not go against the people in their maddened state of
mind. They hoped by joining the Imperial forces to the wild insurgents
that these seething masses might be brought to reason. The mob was
given a semblance of right by a declaration of war on the part of the
government after the forts of Taku were taken by the foreign war-ships
(which was really the first act of war of this unfortunate episode).
When I saw the position of the Legation quarter and especially
that of the British Legation, where all the foreigners finally
congregated--open to attack on every side, lying under the very walls
of the Palace and the Imperial City--I felt convinced that had there
not been some restraining force within their own ranks, the Chinese
could have wiped out the foreigners in less than a week. Bad firing on
their part could only have averted, for a short space, the inevitable
result to the Legations. Had there not been some power that was acting
as a check upon the Chinese, no European would have been left to tell
the tale; and this restraining force I feel confident came from the
Emperor and the Empress Dowager themselves.
The Empress Dowager (with the Emperor) was at the Summer Palace, as
usual, during the summer of 1900. Though urged by her ministers and
the Princes to remain there, where she was out of danger or could
easily escape at its approach, she insisted on returning to the Capital
and went into the Winter Palace a week before the Allies reached the
city. She hoped as a “dernier resort” that the presence of the Sacred
Persons, Their Majesties, in the city might serve as a check upon the
soldiers and people, now maddened by their own fury; for the Imperial
troops, instead of checking the insurgents and leavening the masses
by their right and reason, had, instead, become imbued with the same
spirit as the Boxers themselves! But the Empress Dowager, on this
occasion, counted too strongly on her popularity and upon the respect
that the people felt for the “Sacred Persons,” for even after their
return to the Capital, even Their Majesties’ presence--even the issuing
of Imperial edicts posted all over the city for the people to protect,
or at least cease their attacks on the Legations--were powerless to do
more than intermittently check the attacks.
Finally the Allies reached and entered the city! The Empress Dowager,
discouraged and finding herself powerless, finally succumbed to the
fears of her entourage for her Person. She, herself, became almost
panic-stricken at the thought of falling into the hands of the
foreigners, whose depredations and cruelty to the Chinese on that
memorable march from Tientsin had all been reported to her with the
usual exaggerations. Her indomitable spirit was broken. She consented,
in an agony of womanly fear, to fly. She was disguised as a common
woman, her long finger nails, which would have revealed her exalted
rank, were cut off, and, in a common cart, she made her escape from
the city. As she had refused to go until the last moment, everything
at the Palace was left in the wildest confusion. Neither her jewelry,
nor hardly sufficient clothing, was taken. She did not leave the Palace
until several hours after the foreign troops had passed the Water Gate
and were already within the walls of the English Legation. She had held
out as long as possible.
The memorable flight to Singan Fu began that night. The Court was
accompanied by a regiment of Imperial troops, but such was their
demoralized condition, so many Boxers were among the soldiers, that
rank insubordination prevailed. Neither the officers, nor even the
presence in their midst of the Sacred Persons, served as any check
upon the soldiers. The greatest confusion prevailed. The maddest of
the insurgents had begun to look forward to retribution and to realize
that punishment would be inevitably visited upon them either by the
foreigners or by the Chinese Government when things calmed down, and
this thought seemed but to madden them further.
As the flight led the Imperial party through the section of country
where the society of Boxers had the greatest number of adherents, the
people, in many instances, refused food and shelter to the Imperial
fugitives. They felt the Court had been against them and for the
foreigners. Prince Su, in his account of the journey to Singan Fu,
relates that neither Her Majesty nor the Emperor had enough to eat;
that the soldiers stole the food that was prepared for Their Majesties.
I heard at the Palace that it was only His Majesty who suffered the
pangs of hunger. He, as well as all in the great company that formed
the Court party, deprived himself rather than see the Empress Dowager
suffer. I heard Her Majesty say that the Emperor’s food was stolen,
and she did not know for several days that he was depriving himself
for her. She thought all the Imperial party had her own, meager enough
allowance.
The Empress Dowager saw and heard many new and strange things on that
memorable journey, but she bore it all bravely. After the first panic
of fear, her indomitable spirit resumed its natural poise. Her capacity
for seeing the humorous side of things also helped her to bear it,
and furnished her with a fund of witty anecdotes later, though she
once remarked that, at the time, she did not appreciate the humorous
side to its full extent. Their experiences at this time were often the
theme of conversation among the Ladies at the Palace. While I was there
they were constantly referred to by the Princesses and even by the
eunuchs of the Court. These pampered individuals had then their first
experience with the hardships of the outer world, though, to do them
justice, they rarely referred to their own hardships, which must have
been severe, only speaking of what Their Majesties and the Ladies had
to endure. This flight from Peking to Singan Fu marks an epoch in the
Palace. Everything is dated as before or after that time. After Her
Majesty had accomplished this perilous journey and borne it so bravely,
she was given a new title, a dearer, higher one. She was called
Lao-Tzu-Tzung (the Great Ancestress) by her enthusiastic admirers.
CHAPTER XXXI
THE EMPRESS DOWAGER’S CHARITIES, SENSE OF JUSTICE,
EXTRAVAGANCE, AND PERSONAL CHARACTERISTICS.
The Empress Dowager’s charities are extensive; she feeds the poor and
succors the unfortunate. When her sympathies are aroused, she gives
freely and generously. Her edicts are constantly ordering sacks of rice
and food to be distributed among the poor and sent to districts where
famine reigns. There is a great refuge in Peking, which she supports,
where ten thousand poor are succored and fed during the year. During
the winter, edicts are constantly appearing similar to this--commanding
“The distribution from the Imperial granaries of fifteen hundred piculs
(133-1/3 pounds to the picul) of rice for refuges and gruel stations
for the poor in North Tung Chow.” Edict of November 6, 1904.
She also sympathizes with misfortune, tries to right the wrongs she
knows of, and correct the abuses that come to her ears. From the “North
China Herald” of November 19, 1904, I copy the following, and this
paper cannot be accused of viewing any of Her Majesty’s acts with a
partial spirit (much to the contrary):
“During the Boxer troubles a bad character, by the name of Wang, owed
money to a certain Chinese Mohammedan. Wang had been frequently
dunned, and was finally condemned by the courts to pay the debt; he
was, besides, ordered to be beaten, as he had been insolent to the
Mandarin trying the case. This incensed Wang, and he swore vengeance.
When the Boxer troubles were in full swing in Peking, he became the
leader of a band of insurgents and led his band to the house of the
Mohammedan whom he had been forced by the courts to pay. Wang and
his band massacred not only his old enemy, but eleven members of his
family; leaving only a young daughter-in-law who had hidden in a loft
and saw the whole tragedy; she also saw them march off, carrying, on
spears, the heads of the old man and four of his sons.
The poor daughter-in-law escaped from Peking soon after, and was not
able to return there until a few months since, in 1904. She discovered
the dwelling of the murderer of her husband’s family, and had a
petition drawn up on the subject.
One day when Her Majesty was proceeding from one Palace to another,
the young widow threw herself before the Empress Dowager’s cortège.
Her Majesty saw the prostrate girl (only nineteen years of age), and
commanded her guards to ask what she wanted. The girl, dressed in
deep mourning, held above her head her petition, calling for justice
against her husband’s murderers. Her Majesty read the petition, and
her brow became black as night. She called to a eunuch in her train
and commanded him to take the young petitioner and her petition to the
‘Board of Punishments,’ and deliver the Imperial Commands that no time
be lost in arresting the murderers; that they should be tried, and the
result reported to Her Majesty. This was done, and on the first of
November, 1904, the chief murderer Wang, his two sons and a nephew
were decapitated to expiate their cruel crimes.”
The Empress Dowager is said to be recklessly extravagant in her
own habits as well as in the management of Palace affairs. As for
extravagance in the Palace, bad management doubtless exists, and
extravagance does prevail. Abuses always creep in where the management
of great establishments is intrusted to money-seeking officials, and
to eunuchs, as is the case in the Palace at Peking.
Extravagance in the Palace has been the theme of Chinese economists
for many generations, for hundreds of years before the Manchu Dynasty
came to the Throne. Several of the Emperors have themselves attempted
to stem this extravagance by personal efforts and private economy, but
to no avail. It is related of one Emperor that the sleeve of his State
robe being a little worn, he called up his Master of the Household
to ask what a new robe would cost. He found that it would cost three
thousand taels, and as only the right sleeve of this gown was worn (as
he used his arm a great deal in writing), he decided, in order that
he might himself show a good example, and inaugurate economy, to have
a new sleeve made, instead of ordering an entire gown. He gave his
commands, in consequence, and the gown was taken out of the Palace and
remained several months. When it was returned, what was His Majesty’s
astonishment and chagrin to find that the cost of the new sleeve had
exceeded that of a new gown!
In his walks outside of the Palace, another Emperor bought an article
of food for a few pence. The next time he had it in the Palace he
asked what the dish cost and was told it was “four taels.” When he
remonstrated, saying what he had paid for it outside of the Palace, his
Master of the Household told him it was impossible to have it “inside”
the Palace or on His Majesty’s table at any less than the sum of four
taels. If His Majesty wished it for a few pence, His Majesty might buy
it outside the Palace and bring it in himself for that sum, but no one
else could bring it inside for the price it could be bought outside,
as it had to go through so many official hands before it reached His
Majesty’s table, that it actually cost the sum of four taels.
After several efforts of this kind at reducing the Palace expenses,
even these wise and economical Emperors were obliged to give it up. If
these Emperors of ancient times, when the Palace was conducted on more
simple lines than it is to-day, were powerless to check extravagance
in the Imperial household, how much more difficult must it be to do so
now that the system has become petrified with age--especially for the
Empress Dowager, who can never go outside and see things for herself!
It is said that each egg at Their Majesties’ table costs three taels,
but Palace reform, necessary as it is, must come from without, from the
officials, and no private effort of Their Majesties can change things.
As for the Empress Dowager’s personal extravagance, aside from
present-giving, I saw no evidence of it. Her wardrobe, in point of
actual cost, aside from her jewels, would not be superior in price to
that of the wives of some of our American millionaires; for the styles
do not change in China, and furs and embroideries are handed down from
generation to generation. Her jewels, even, are not more gorgeous or
more numerous, though they are more unique, than those of any of the
European sovereigns. She has an immense number of pearls--for the
pearl is her favorite precious stone, besides being the jewel of the
Dynasty--but she has no diamonds, no emeralds, and very few European
precious stones. She has a quantity of fine jade jewels, but these, as
well as pearls, are cheaper in China than elsewhere.
I saw several incidents which seemed to point rather to personal
economy on Her Majesty’s part than to extravagance. While I was
painting one of the portraits, she decided that the trimming on the
gown must be changed. She had bolts of different kinds of ribbon
brought in to select from and finally decided upon a certain piece.
She called a maid to sew some around the neck. When I wanted to have
this piece cut off, so that some might be sewed around the hem where
it was also visible, she said the ribbon had better not be cut, for
it was a “handsome piece,” and, if cut, it might spoil it for use in
“trimming another gown.” These pieces of ribbon and embroidery come in
lengths for one dress only. One day when she was drinking some fruit
juice, her hand slipped on the polished jade bowl and some of it fell
upon the front of her jacket. She was most annoyed, and after several
ineffectual attempts of her own and the attendants to remove the spot,
she said she had heard that the foreigners had some wonderful processes
of cleaning and she must have them investigated, for it was too bad to
have a thing spoiled by an accident of that kind when a good garment
was rendered useless for any one!
She had the good of China at heart and was really a patriot; in fact,
I observed more patriotism, more National pride among the people I saw
at Court, than I ever noticed elsewhere in China. I feel convinced
the Empress Dowager has strong National feeling and really loves her
country, and is as patriotic a Chinese as there is in China. When there
were internal troubles, or exterior complications, she seemed to be
really worried and to grieve, as if it were a personal thing. She made
mistakes, of course, and grave ones, but when it is remembered that
her knowledge of what takes place “outside,” comes entirely from the
reports made to her, that she has no opportunity of seeing things for
herself, it seems wonderful she does not make more.
Last winter a new scheme of taxation, by which the revenue would
be largely increased and which taxation would be scarcely felt by
the people, was presented to Their Majesties for consideration. Her
Majesty soon grasped the entire scope of the scheme and thought it good
and feasible; but though the payment of the foreign indemnity made
it imperative to increase the revenue by every means possible, she
hesitated over the inauguration of this new scheme, fearing it might
give the officials a new opportunity to oppress the common people,
for it is not the laws that oppress the people in China. This is done
by the officials who enforce them. She evidently realized this power
that the officials have of “squeezing” the people, and she wished to
be assured of the manner in which this taxation would be enforced
before she gave her consent to the scheme. At the first presentation to
her of this plan of taxation, she repeated several times, “I fear it
may harass the people; we cannot harass the people; they have enough
burdens to bear.” She was not so particular about not harassing the
Officials, for they were called upon all over China to make great
contributions to the Imperial Treasury for the purpose of assisting in
paying the foreign indemnity.
Notwithstanding her penetration of character, her naturally good
judgment, she made mistakes in her appreciation of those who surrounded
her; but this was not strange, for she had almost no opportunity of
seeing them in their true light. She was a good physiognomist, but one
cannot always trust to physiognomy. She was in the habit of giving all
who surrounded her a certain amount of latitude, until they came to
rely on her favor and revealed themselves in their true light to her.
Then she would quickly suppress them or cast them aside. This often
seemed cruel and heartless. She sometimes would take another’s estimate
of a character which she had favorably judged, for, of course, there
is a great deal of jealousy and intrigue among her entourage, and she
was influenced by reports that she heard; for she was obliged, in order
to form an opinion, to listen to the gossip of the Palace. Her own
penetration, however, would generally come to her aid and, in the end,
her judgment would right itself.
She had strong prejudices, and often allowed herself to be deceived
by the favorites to whom she had given her confidence. After several
preliminary trials of their character, and when she thought she had
arrived at a proper estimate of it, she was an easy victim. These
favorites could then act with impunity, and she was sometimes made
the dupe of their schemes. Thus Ministers, courtiers, friends, and
attendants, who had once thoroughly established their positions with
her, could often get the advantage of her and impose upon her natural
acumen.
She could be most sarcastic, sometimes cruelly so, but I generally
found there was some reason for her sarcasm. She was very impulsive and
had her share of temper, but there was never any unladylike display of
it. When she was angry her voice was never raised; it simply lost its
silvery sweetness and took the quality of some ordinary metal, and she
was always quiet and well-bred.
From what I saw of the Empress Dowager, it seemed to me she would not
brook interference in the accomplishment of a design she had set her
heart upon--that she would not hesitate even at crushing an individual
who stood in the way of the realization of some plan she had fixed
upon. But her judgment was so good, she did not decide upon a thing
unless she felt it was absolutely imperative to carry it out.
As for tact and social savoir, she is remarkable. I never knew any one
to possess these qualities to a greater degree. At her first Audience
to foreigners, Sir Claude MacDonald, in reporting it, spoke of the
Empress Dowager as “a kind and courteous hostess, who displayed both
the tact and softness of a womanly disposition.” Lady Susan Townley
says of her: “Where has she learned the ease and dignity with which
she receives her European guests?” These opinions of her social tact,
so far as I could learn, are held by all the members of the Foreign
Legations in Peking.
When the young Prince Adalbert of Prussia was received in special
Audience by Their Majesties, on his visit to Peking, he was accompanied
not only by the German Minister and his staff, but by a number of
officers as his personal escort. This made an unusually large number
of presentations necessary. I have been told that at the Audiences of
the Diplomatic Corps, where only gentlemen were present, the Empress
Dowager had a sort of shyness and did not show the same ease of manner
as when she received the ladies. But at this Audience of the young
Prince she became interested in talking with him, and I heard one of
the gentlemen who was present say it was the first time he had seen Her
Majesty thoroughly at ease at one of the Audiences to the Diplomatic
Corps, and that on that day she was perfectly charming, seeming to take
the liveliest interest in questioning the young Prince and conversing
with him in a motherly way, and that he then realized to its full
extent her wonderful charm and her great social instinct.
I have heard it said that the Empress Dowager puts all this charm on
for these occasions; that she is a consummate actress, but during
the whole time I was in the Palace I never saw her other than the
charming hostess, considerate of the comfort of those who surround her
and readily sympathizing with sorrow, and I have seen her under all
circumstances, at Audiences and in private, in anxiety and sorrow and
in joy. She was too great a lover of Nature in all its phases to be
cruel and heartless, and I am convinced she is really genuinely kind.
She apparently greatly admired intelligence, and goodness always seemed
to appeal to her. She was ever a fascinating study, and her magnetic
personality full of charm. I found her thoroughly human and perfectly
womanly.
CHAPTER XXXII
THE CHINESE NEW YEAR--OFFICIAL AUDIENCE
The Chinese New Year, the greatest of the popular festivals, is,
of course, celebrated with much pomp and enthusiasm at the Palace.
Splendid decorations, hundreds of beautiful horn lanterns, with their
long, red silk tassels, the great red “Sho” emblazoned on their
sides, made the courts and verandahs gay with color. Painted figures
of red-clothed gods regarded one at every turn. Hideous monsters
with vermilion faces, painted on the outside doors, brandished
spears to frighten away the bad spirits. There were the usual gala
representations at the Theater; and the Palace, as at all festivals,
was filled with visitors.
The Chinese pay all their debts at the New Year. If they have not the
ready money to do so, they will dispose of anything valuable they
have, in order to begin the New Year free from debt. It is considered
tempting Heaven to begin it otherwise. A great deal of silver imitation
money is exchanged at this season. This is an old custom and supposed
to bring abundance during the year. At the New Year, present-giving
reaches its culminating point in China. Every one, rich and poor, high
and low, gives presents then.
Their Majesties not only gave to all the Ladies and Princesses, but
to every inmate of the Palace, and even the beggar at the gate was
not forgotten; but the presents exchanged at the New Year are never
so handsome as those given for a birthday. The presents the Empress
Dowager received on this occasion were principally flowers (her
Throne-room was full of them, as well as her private apartments)--dwarf
fruit trees twisted into fantastic shapes, laden with fragrant blossoms
and splendid plants of peonies in full flower, and countless vases of
the Chinese Lily, as they call the Narcissus in China. The Empress
Dowager tried to be cheerful and not dampen the gaiety of the Festival
by her alarm, but the long-looked-for and much-dreaded war between
Russia and Japan had then actually begun, and she was mortally anxious!
The Japanese were already in Manchuria, and no one knew how it might
affect China!
[Illustration: SLAVE GIRLS]
Though I did not work on the portrait during the New Year’s
festivities, it was now really advancing. When Her Majesty saw how
the hands looked when they were drawn in, with the palms of the hands
hidden by the long fur undersleeves, in the position I had dared to
find fault with at the first sitting, she at once suggested having the
fur undersleeves taken off, but she still said nothing about changing
the position of the hands, though I saw she had her doubts about them,
and I felt confident her good taste would finally prevail and she would
want them changed. I painted them in with a thin wash of color, knowing
they would be changed later. A few days after this, she remarked that
my “idea about the position of the hands was not bad,” and suggested
that the left hand “would look well on a cushion.” I made this change
in the small study, much to her satisfaction, and then did the hands
likewise in the large portrait.
The New Year festivities were hardly over before the Empress Dowager
decided to move the Court to the Sea Palace. This Palace, though not
so much a favorite with her as the Summer Palace, she liked better
than the Winter Palace; the latter’s small, shut-in courts, walled-in
walks, and rigid traditions seemed to depress her. At the Sea Palace
she had gardens for her promenades and there was a lake. It was not so
beautiful as the Summer Palace, but was an improvement over the Winter
Palace.
This move to the Sea Palace necessitated another change of studio for
me, just as I was comfortably installed in my quarters in the Winter
Palace, and had begun to progress with my work. I knew I should be
obliged to have the new place arranged with upper glass windows and
that I would again lose time, and the date of the opening of the St.
Louis Exposition was approaching! But there was no help for it; I
must go with the Court to the Sea Palace. I was told that there I was
to have a magnificent pavilion on the lake, with a perfect light for
painting. As to the pavilion’s being magnificent, I had no doubt, but I
did doubt, from past experiences, whether the light would be all that
could be desired.
One morning our chairs carried us to the Sea Palace instead of to the
Winter Palace. All my painting things, materials, canvases, as well
as Her Majesty’s Throne, on which she was seated for the portrait,
had been moved. Not the smallest piece of paper, nor even a bit of
charcoal was missing. I had painted until the last moment at the Winter
Palace, the day before; and early the next morning my things were in
perfect order--the portrait on the easel, and the Throne in the proper
position in my quarters at the Sea Palace. It was an “Aladdin’s-Lamp”
move.
The group of buildings that had been set aside for my painting fronted
on the lake, and were really charming, but the overhanging verandahs to
each pavilion forced me again to have the upper windows put in. After
this was accomplished, it was the best working-room I had ever had at
any of the Palaces. The days were getting longer and the light better,
and I hoped now to soon finish the portrait.
A few days after the Court moved to the Sea Palace, the members of
the Corps Diplomatique were received in Audience to present their
congratulations to the Emperor and Empress Dowager on the occasion
of the Chinese New Year. They were received in the Great Audience
Hall; but the ladies of the Legation, whose reception took place the
following day, were received in Her Majesty’s Throne-room opening on
the Court of the large Theater at the Sea Palace. As it was cold, the
Theater and its court were entirely inclosed and roofed over in glass,
in panes of about a foot and a half square. On each pane was painted,
in red, the ever-present character “Sho” (longevity), surrounded by
five bats. The marble pavement of the court and the steps leading up
to the Throne-room were carpeted in red; and when the great doors were
thrown wide, there was a good effect of size given, although this
Throne-room was one of the smallest in the Sea Palace.
As this was to be a formal reception, several members of the Wai-Wu-Pu
were present as interpreters. The ladies of the Legation were presented
by the Baron Czikan, the Austrian Minister, Doyen of the Corps. He
made a graceful address in French, wishing Their Majesties a Happy New
Year, and China much prosperity. This was translated into Chinese by
one of the Secretaries of the Wai-Wu-Pu. The Empress Dowager replied
for herself and the Emperor, in Chinese. Her Majesty’s words were
interpreted by His Excellency Liang Fang, a good French scholar. Then
the Doyen presented the ladies individually, and the usual order of
ceremonies followed. When the presentations were over, the Doyen,
foreign attachés and interpreters, with the Chinese officials, repaired
to the hall which had been set aside for their luncheon, while the
ladies, accompanied by the Princesses, went to their repast in another
part of the Palace!
Only a few days after this, came the lantern festival; but this was not
an interruption to my work, for I painted all day, and only went to the
Theater for the final piece and the spectacular tableau. We dined in
the Imperial loge, and after dinner there were beautiful lantern and
torch-light processions. In the court opposite the Throne-room where
we dined, there was a beautiful pai-lou of transparent gauze, painted
in charming designs, illuminated from within, and hung with luminous
flowers and quaint lanterns. Tall eunuchs, in gala red, stood around
the courts, holding great lanterns aloft, like huge caryatides with
luminous burdens. Others with fanciful vermilion lanterns wound in and
out through corridors and courts. When they reached the court of the
softly glowing pai-lou, they manœuvered and made intricate designs and
luminous tableaux, holding aloft their red-globed lanterns to form
characters and phrases of “felicitous omen.” These huge, luminous
characters were wonderfully accurate.
After the torch- and lantern-lit processions, and the glowing tableaux,
a pair of illuminated dragons writhed into the court and struggled
for the “flaming pearl,” which flitted around with elusive fantastic
movements, ever beyond their grasp. I was not able to find out the
origin of the Imperial legend of the Double Dragon and the Flaming
Pearl, representations of which appear everywhere at the Palace on
whatever is meant for Imperial use, or for any official function over
which the Emperor is supposed to preside. It is on all the Thrones of
the Dynasty; it adorns the Imperial pennant; it is cut into stone,
carved into wood, and painted in pictures. It decorates the gowns of
the higher officials, and is embroidered upon the Court dresses of the
Ladies of the Palace. At the Birthdays of the Emperor and Empress,
and at all Dynastic celebrations there are realistic representations
of the immortal struggle where the Double Dragon strives to absorb
the “flaming pearl.” The significance of the legend seems to be: The
Double Dragon represents the Powers of Earth or Evil which try ever to
absorb the Flaming Pearl, Emblem of the Dynasty, symbol of Heaven or
Perfection. The Flaming Pearl, the Unattainable, keeps ever beyond and
above their grasp, seeming to serve always as an incentive for further
effort.
For a fortnight after the lantern festival, there were fireworks every
night on the banks of the lake. We would dine in the Throne-room,
and then Her Majesty and the Emperor, accompanied by the Ladies, and
attended by the usual number of eunuchs (each bearing transparent horn
lanterns), would go through the courts and paths of the garden to the
lake, on the banks of which the fireworks were sent up. Here, in full
view of the set pieces, stood four large, roomy sleds. When the lake
was frozen, these sleds were used to push Their Majesties and the
ladies over its glassy surface. They had not been used as sleds this
winter, for the ice had not been sufficiently firm, the winter having
been comparatively mild. But when the lake was well frozen, as is usual
at this season in Peking, Their Majesties viewed the fireworks from
these sleds as they skimmed along over its smooth surface. There was a
sled for each of them--one for the Empress and second wife, and one for
the Princesses. They were cloth-covered, lined with fur, and had great
fur rugs. There were seats around the three sides; the wadded curtain,
with its large square of plate-glass that hung down over the front, was
taken off for the fireworks. Their Majesties occupied each of theirs
alone, but the Empress had several of the Ladies in hers.
The fireworks were superb. There were beautiful set pieces, pagodas,
with ladies on balconies, pavilions with grapevines, wistaria arbors,
and beds of flowers so lifelike they seemed to grow at the side of the
luminous cascades, and many other effects I had never seen before in
fireworks. One day, during the time of the lantern festival, we had
fireworks in the brilliant sunshine. When these day rockets exploded,
all sorts of curious paper devices fell to the ground--fish dragons
and animals, as well as flags and baskets. When anything interesting
was revealed, Her Majesty would send the eunuchs to pick it up as it
fell and bring it to her that she might examine it. Many fell outside
the Palace walls, and she said these would give pleasure to the “poor
people outside.”
Formerly, at these fireworks in the Palace to celebrate the lantern
festival, the public was admitted into the Inclosure, but this practice
stopped when the two Empresses were Co-Regents for the first boy
Emperor, Tung-Chih. As this was coincident with the establishment of
the first Foreign Legations in Peking, the latter fact may have had
some influence in changing the custom. The Chinese people were shut
out because it was feared that the foreigners might also come into
the Precincts. These beautiful fireworks I could enjoy without any
qualms of conscience, for I could not paint at night, and they were
consequently no interruption to my work.
CHAPTER XXXIII
CONTINUATION OF THE ST. LOUIS PORTRAIT--SPRING
DAYS AT THE SEA PALACE
There began now to be some discussion as to what would be the most
propitious date for finishing the portrait. I had thought I might
finish when I could, but this was not to be the case. The almanacs
were consulted, and it was decided that the nineteenth day of April
would be an auspicious time to finish and before four o’clock! The
Empress Dowager informed me of the “happy augury” of this date and
asked me if I thought it possible to finish then. Not only had the
date for beginning the portrait been carefully chosen, but there was
much deliberation as to the proper time for finishing! Her Majesty
seemed very anxious until she received my reply as to whether it would
be possible to finish at this happy date, for I could not say at
first, as I had never thought of finishing at any particular moment!
When I finally told her I could finish it before four o’clock, April
19th, she was delighted. She said “How good” and asked me to please
“not disappoint her.” As the portrait neared completion she came
very often to the studio and watched over the painting-in of all the
accessories, which she seemed to consider quite as important as the
likeness itself. As she was tired after the Audiences, she gave me two
or three sittings at this time before she went to the Audience Hall,
and I painted from half-past six to eight A.M. for two or three days.
The jewels in the head-dress, all official, were the subject of much
deliberation. After a jewel was painted in, she would decide she didn’t
like it and that something else would be better. She seemed to think
it was as easy to take it from the picture as to remove it from her
person. All these requests for changes were so graciously made, I never
complained. She would sometimes say, “I am giving you a great deal of
trouble, and you are very kind.” I didn’t mind the trouble, only these
changes took away the freshness of the painting and did not add to the
artistic effect of the picture.
Her Majesty ordered a magnificent frame for the portrait. She,
herself, made the design. The Double Dragon at the top struggled for
the “flaming pearl” with the character “Sho” on it. The sides were
elaborately carved in designs representing the symbol of “ten thousand”
years with the characters for longevity. The frame was to be set in
a superbly carved stand, as the Chinese do their mirrors. The whole,
of rare camphor-wood, was made by Her Majesty’s own artisans at the
Palace--the most expert workmen in China.
The days were lengthening now, the trees beginning to bud and the
flowers in the courts to bloom. The icy fetters that had locked the
lake were broken; the boats again glided over its bosom. In the
mornings we no longer had to take the winter “chairs” and be carried
the long distance from the gates to the Throne-room. The comfortable
boats once more lay moored at the foot of the landing-steps, just
within the gates, and we enjoyed again those ideal trips across the
lake.
The Empress Dowager began to take long promenades now and was much
out-of-doors. Sometimes in the mornings, on our arrival, she would
already be in the gardens. One day we met her on the banks of the
lake and made our morning salutations there. Another day, she and the
Emperor were inspecting the new buildings which were being erected to
replace those burned during the occupation of Peking by the Allies,
when Count von Waldersee had his headquarters in the Sea Palace.
Splendid buildings were being erected on the site of those burned. The
Emperor and Empress Dowager, each with his own suite, carefully visited
every part of these new constructions and seemed much interested in
their progress. Of course, the workmen were banished during the visit
of Their Majesties. One of these new halls was to be used for the
entertainment of foreigners, when they are invited to the Palace, and
many concessions had been made to foreign ideas in its construction.
Let us hope it may not lose its Chinese character! I am sure the
foreigners will regret this innovation and would prefer the typical
Chinese interior, even though it be less suited to the exigencies of a
modern reception.
Sometimes we would see the Empress Dowager in her Japanese
“jinricksha.” This was a beautiful, gold-lacquered affair in dragon
form, the two dragons’ heads in front. It had splendid gold-lacquered
shafts and wheels--the latter with rubber tires. It was pulled by one
eunuch and pushed by another, and Her Majesty seemed greatly to enjoy
this novelty for a while, but she said she preferred to walk or to be
carried in her open chair, as a usual thing.
Two other modern and novel methods of locomotion had been installed in
the grounds of the Sea Palace. There was a small railway, which ran
from the outer gates to the dwelling Palaces, which had its engine and
complete running outfit. This had been constructed by some progressive
Mandarins, who wished to get the Empress Dowager’s support for some
railway scheme, but though she often spoke of how much she had enjoyed
her one trip on a real railway, her spirit was too utilitarian to care
for toy pleasures. She couldn’t stand the puffing of the engine, the
tiny cars, and all this trouble for so short and useless a jaunt.
There was also in the Sea Palace, as well as at the Summer Palace, a
number of automobiles, which had been presented to Their Majesties
by Chinese nobles and officials who had been abroad, as examples of
the curiosities of European civilization. One of these was gorgeously
fitted up in the Imperial yellow and gold lacquer, with the Double
Dragon. The body was inclosed in glass and there was a throne-like
seat within for the Empress Dowager. The question of how the chauffeur
should run the machine standing, as he would be obliged to do if Her
Majesty were inside, had not then been solved. She was, however,
willing to throw tradition to the winds in this instance, and was most
anxious to try one of these motor-cars. Her entourage was, however,
bitterly opposed to it, even for a short distance in the grounds. They
were afraid of an accident. She never tried one while I was there, but
I am confident that her venturesome spirit will not rest content until
she has had a ride in one of these modern carriages.
In April, kite-flying time begins in China. High Officials and
dignified literati indulge in the pastime as well as children and young
people. The popular pastimes of the people, as well as their serious
occupations, being always honored in the Palace, kites were, of course,
sent off by the Empress Dowager and the Ladies. The first day the kites
were to be flown Her Majesty sent for me to come into the garden, where
the kite-flying was to take place. The kites were of paper, wonderfully
fashioned, representing birds, fish, bats, and even personages. The
strings were wound on curiously shaped reels and the cleverness with
which Her Majesty let out the string and manipulated the kites was
wonderful. After she had let one go, she graciously handed me her own
reel and told me she would teach me to fly a kite. I was hard at work
at my painting when I was called out into the garden and I wished to
return to it as soon as possible; and as I knew I would not be very
clever at kite-flying, I begged her to allow me to watch her instead.
The young Empress and Princesses were also very proficient in flying
them, and Her Majesty flew hers as she did everything else, with
unusual grace.
One of these beautiful spring mornings as we were softly gliding
across the lake, propelled by the graceful Palace boatmen, I lay back
on my cushions reveling in the scene of quiet loveliness before me
and drinking in the ineffable perfume of the spring, when my glance,
roaming lazily around in perfect content, caught sight of a group of
gentlemen on the bank of the lake beyond. The rays of the morning sun,
glinting upon the gold of their embroidered costumes and touching, with
iridescent rays, the peacock’s feathers upon their hats, revealed their
rank and official standing.
As it was a most unusual thing to see gentlemen in the Palace
Inclosure, I was at once all attention, knowing there must be some
important event on hand, especially as, on looking closer, I saw one
small figure in their midst more plainly dressed than the others,
whom I at once recognized as His Majesty the Emperor. As we slowly
approached I saw the Emperor go over to a plow to which was hitched
an ox, and which stood at a little distance off in the field. Fortune
favored me! I was to see the Emperor plow the first furrow of the year!
For it was only on the morrow that the official public ceremony was to
take place at the Temple of Agriculture, near the great triple altar of
Heaven. I was to see the private plowing, done in the Palace grounds
and viewed only by the Princes of the Imperial Family and the highest
Manchu nobles.
When all was ready the Emperor took the handles of the plow and guided
it down a furrow marked off the ground, and when the furrow was
upturned, the seed was dropped in. The ox for this ceremony, which I
had heard was white, was (at the Palace function) of a soft doe color.
He seemed to have been trained for the purpose and performed his part
with a dignity in harmony with the attitude of all the assistants and
in keeping with the solemnity of the occasion.
I was rejoiced to have an opportunity of seeing this interesting
ceremony and to learn that even this great rite, which I had thought,
like the sacrifice to the Invisible Deity on the triple altar, was only
performed in the grounds of the Temple to Heaven; and to learn that
every custom dear to the people, or incorporated in the National life,
is observed in the Palace by the Emperor and Empress--that His Majesty
really plants the first furrow of the year and gathers the first
sheaves of ripened wheat, and that the Ladies of the Palace really spin
the first silk and pull the first fruits.
The slow movement of the Palace boats was never so appreciated by me
as on this morning, for I was thus enabled to see well this curious
National ceremony, which I would never have seen but for the accident
of the hour of my crossing the lake and the time it took to do so; for,
as at all ceremonies where men are present, there were, of course,
no members of Her Majesty’s entourage, and none of the Ladies or
Princesses had ever seen this ceremony!
CHAPTER XXXIV
FINISHING AND SENDING OFF THE PORTRAIT
The nineteenth day of April was approaching, and the portrait steadily
advancing. As it neared completion Her Majesty’s interest in it seemed
to grow. She spent a great deal of time in my pavilion watching its
progress, and expressed herself as much delighted with it. A few days
before the nineteenth, I asked Her Majesty to allow Mrs. Conger to come
and see it on that day. She immediately consented, and invitations were
sent through the Foreign Office, not only to Mrs. Conger, but to the
wives of the Ministers and First Secretaries of Legations to come to
the Palace on the nineteenth day of April, for the purpose of “seeing
the portrait of Her Imperial Majesty, the Empress Dowager, painted by
the American artist.”
The ladies of the Legation, of course, responded to the invitation,
and on the morning of the nineteenth the portrait was placed in the
splendid frame. Her Majesty decided she would receive the ladies first
in her Throne-room, after which they were to come to my studio to
see the portrait. As I was still working until the “fateful hour,”
I did not go up to the Throne-room but awaited the ladies in my own
place. Her Majesty did not accompany the ladies when they came to
see the portrait, but she sent the young Empress and Princesses to my
pavilion to assist me in receiving and to lend a proper dignity to the
occasion. The portrait, in a Chinese milieu, and seen in the light in
which it was painted, made a better effect than it could in any other
surroundings. The ladies were, of course, much interested in seeing
this long-talked-of picture--the first ever painted of Her Majesty--and
the novelty of the precedent, as well as the interest of a visit
to the Palace, favorably predisposed them, and they expressed themselves
as most interested in the work, finding it a good likeness. The
admiration it received from the young Empress and the Ladies of the
Court was almost embarrassing, and the eunuchs said it was so lifelike
when they passed the windows that it inspired the same awe Her Majesty’s
own presence did.
After the ladies had duly looked at and commented upon the portrait,
they repaired to one of the halls in connection with my studio, where
a repast had been prepared by the orders of Her Majesty. Here, for the
first and only time, while I was in the Palace, the young Empress sat
down at the table with the foreign ladies, and acted as hostess, and
very gracefully she filled her rôle.
After the visit of the ladies of the Legation, Her Majesty informed
me that the Princes and nobles, whose rank entitled them to enter the
Palace Inclosure, were to come to see it the following day. As it would
not have been “according to the Proprieties” for gentlemen to enter the
quarters reserved for ladies, or the buildings where even a foreign
lady worked, the portrait was, for their visit, carried out into the
open court of my pavilion.
To place the portrait in its carved pedestal, it was necessary to erect
a scaffolding by which the framed picture was raised into the air,
and then lowered into its stand. When all was finally arranged, the
scaffolding was removed, the debris cleared away, and the Princes and
nobles, in full dress, came into the court to see the portrait. Each
one approached the picture and closely examined it, even touching the
canvas. Unfortunately, I could not hear their comments, as I only saw
the ceremony discreetly ensconced behind a curtain, but I could watch
their faces and study their expressions, though I must confess that
they revealed very little.
A young Manchu, who had been attached to a Legation abroad and had
learned photography in an amateur way, had been ordered by Her Majesty
to make a photograph of the portrait. This was done while the Princes
and nobles were still in the court. When it was photographed, and the
Princes had retired, the scaffolding was again put up, the picture was
raised out of its carved wood pedestal and was replaced in my studio.
All this took the greater part of the day.
Her Majesty was so pleased with the comments she heard upon the
portrait (of course no unfavorable ones were made to her), that she
decided to accede to the prayers of several of the high officials,
and allow the Sacred Picture to be viewed by a number of other high
functionaries. For this purpose, the portrait was removed to the
Wai-Wu-Pu (Foreign Office); for many of the highest Officials are not
permitted to enter the Palace Inclosure.
At the Foreign Office, not only the high Chinese Officials, but the
foreign Ministers and their staffs were invited to see it. Many of the
foreigners went in full dress uniform for this visit, in deference to
Chinese prejudices. After it had been duly viewed by all in Peking of
sufficient rank to have that honor, it was inclosed in a satin-lined
camphor-wood box, covered with satin of Imperial yellow, and the box
was closed with great solemnity. The pedestal was placed in a similar
box. Each had splendid bronze handles and huge circular locks. These
boxes were inclosed in others, also lined with the Imperial color, and
were finally ready for shipment. The packing-cases, containing the
framed picture and its carved pedestal, were placed upon a flat freight
car, which had been elaborately decorated with red and yellow festoons
of silk. The boxes were covered with yellow cloth, painted with the
Double Dragon. A special railway had been laid from the Wai-Wu-Pu to
the station outside the Chien-Mên, for it was not considered fitting
that ordinary bearers transport the picture of Her Majesty.
The Officials of the Wai-Wu-Pu, as well as many other of the high
Officials in Peking, dressed in full dress, accompanied it to the
station, and stood to watch the Sacred Picture start off on its long
journey to St. Louis. The special train carrying it was met at Tientsin
by the Viceroy of the Province, surrounded by all his official staff.
It was there placed with great ceremony upon the steamer on which it
was to make the journey to Shanghai, and was accompanied from Peking to
Shanghai by an official specially appointed for the purpose.
At Shanghai it was received in the same formal state and with the same
official pomp as at Tientsin. It was met at the steamer by the Governor
of the Province and all his staff and transhipped with great ceremony
to one of the Pacific Mail Steamers for San Francisco. The Sacred
Picture was accompanied on its journey from Shanghai to St. Louis by
a high Official and his suite. A special car conveyed it from San
Francisco to St. Louis.
His Imperial Highness Prince Pu L’un, Imperial Commissioner and
personal representative of Their Majesties at the Exposition of
St. Louis, awaited the arrival of the portrait there, delaying his
departure for several days in order to be able himself to assist at the
reception and placing of the portrait. At four o’clock on the afternoon
of the 19th of June, His Imperial Highness and the Imperial Chinese
Commission repaired to the Art Gallery, where the cases containing the
portrait and pedestal were awaiting their presence to be opened. The
Director of the Art Gallery, the Assistant Director, and several other
members of the Board of Fine Arts, were also present.
The cases containing the portrait, one within the other, were opened,
and finally within the last, lined with yellow silk, lay the “Sacred
Picture,” covered with a screen of brocaded satin of Imperial hue. This
satin cover was ceremoniously removed, and the picture was “unveiled.”
The Prince proposed the health of Her Majesty and the Prosperity of
China, which the assistants drank in sparkling champagne. This opening
of the cases and unveiling of the picture lasted from four o’clock to
nine P.M. A few days later, when the Gallery where it was placed was
opened to the public, it lost, for the first time since its inception,
its semi-sacred qualities. Only then did it stand upon its own merits
and become as other portraits. Then, for the first time, it could be
seen by the ordinary individual--then only it became the subject of
comment as any other picture at the Fair. Then it was open to the gaze
of the vulgar and the comment of the scoffer.
At the close of the Exposition, a delegate was sent from the Chinese
Legation in Washington to arrange for the transportation of the
picture to the latter place. The portrait and its carved support were
again placed in their satin-lined cases, and it began the journey to
Washington. Her Majesty had decided when the portrait was completed to
her satisfaction that it would be a suitable present for her to make to
the United States. She thought this would be particularly appropriate,
as the painting of the portrait for the St. Louis Exposition had been
thought of by the wife of the American Minister to Peking, and as
it had been executed by an American artist. Thus the United States
received the gift of the first portrait ever painted of a Chinese Ruler.
When the portrait arrived in Washington, His Excellency Sir Chentung
Liang Cheng, the Chinese Minister to Washington, attended by his
Secretaries, made a formal presentation of the portrait to the
President, which Mr. Roosevelt received on behalf of the United States
Government.
CHAPTER XXXV
RETURN TO THE SUMMER PALACE
Sending off the picture to St. Louis did not sever my connection with
the Palace, for I had still other work to finish! At the end of April,
a month later than usual, the Court moved out to the Summer Palace for
the rest of the year. The country was beautiful, the trees were almost
in full leaf, and lilacs, blue and white, bloomed everywhere. My garden
in the Park of the Palace of the Emperor’s Father was full of them,
and over my entrance gate clambered a beautiful yellow rose-bush laden
with masses of blooms. Wild flowers were springing up at every turn,
and my dog “Me-lah” in his wild races through the park, when we were out
for our walks, would often start up coveys of birds; or rabbits would
scurry away at his approach. I went back to my favorite haunts in the
park, to the summer-house, where upon the threshold, cut in stone, lay
the plaint of the Seventh Prince! It was a delightful change to be in
this beautiful spot after the four months in Peking, and to see Nature
everywhere budding into perfection. The grounds of the Summer Palace
were one maze of delight. The peonies in all their royal splendor, the
fragrant lilac, the stately magnolia, and the budding elms, each added
their charm to this beautiful spot, where everything was lovely. I
could not wonder at the Empress Dowager’s desire to come back again to
all this beauty.
A charming studio was fitted up for me at the Summer Palace on our
return. Her Majesty saw how much more satisfactory it was for me to
have a proper place to work in, where I would be undisturbed, and
even had she not seen the utility of a studio, I think she would have
granted my request for one, for she was always kind and considerate.
Upper windows of plate-glass were put into the north side of one of
His Majesty’s Throne-rooms, behind the Imperial loge. It looked over
a charming terrace of the garden. The days were long, and it was a
delight to live and breathe, and the quiet of the studio, where I could
work at leisure, made me resume my work with renewed vigor.
I began at once to finish up the small sketch of the St. Louis
portrait, which Her Majesty wished to keep, and then to put the
final touches on the two portraits begun at the Summer Palace. The
Throne-room that was now my studio had only one disadvantage. It was so
near the Theater that on theater days I could hear the music and the
voices of the actors. And on those days, the court outside my windows
was filled all day with eunuchs and Their Majesties’ attendants, moving
to and fro. I decided if it was necessary for me to go into Peking at
any time, to take a “Theater day” to do so.
One Theater day I did go into Peking, and on my return to the Summer
Palace the next day I found that His Majesty the Emperor had taken
advantage of my absence to occupy his Throne-room the day before, for I
found his Theater program, distinguishable by being written on Imperial
yellow paper, and he had also left a few papers scattered around with
characters and phrases written with the “Vermilion Pencil,” which may
only be used by His Majesty. On one paper he had evidently been trying
to draw a plan of the part of Manchuria where the war operations were
then being carried on. He had also drawn a part of the Great Wall of
China, and the dividing line between China and Manchuria.
So the Emperor, notwithstanding his stoical smile, his apparent
unconcern, was not indifferent to affairs in Manchuria. He was watching
the course of events there, and he probably worried and grieved as much
as even the Empress Dowager, about what might be the result for China.
He had probably schooled himself to appear indifferent. The ceremonies
and festivals at the Palace had been going on as usual, but the two
central figures of all these functions had their own secret anxieties
and cares. The Emperor was following the campaign in Manchuria, and the
Empress Dowager was probably planning and thinking of the best course
for China to follow.
In May, the Empress Dowager had another Garden Party for the ladies of
the Legation, at which she, as usual, asked me to assist. When I went
into the Audience Hall for this reception, a few moments before the
ladies were to arrive, Her Majesty, after greeting me and scanning my
toilet, which was all in gray without any color, took a pink peony from
a vase at hand, and pinned it on my dress, saying I needed a little
color. I had just finished the largest of the other three portraits I
had painted at the Summer Palace, and Her Majesty told me she liked it
so much that she had decided to show it to the foreign ladies at this
Garden Party. As I had heard nothing of this plan before leaving my
studio that morning, I had made no preparations for it. The picture was
on my easel, unframed, and I told her I would prefer it to be placed
in its frame, before it was shown. This frame, designed also by the
Empress Dowager, and made by the Palace workmen, was a magnificent
piece of work, elaborately carved and beautiful in form. It was in the
natural color of teakwood, and this quiet tone admirably set off the
vivid color of the gown and accessories, and was a great improvement
to the picture. When she heard what were my wishes on the subject, Her
Majesty said she would see that the picture was placed in the frame,
and it was arranged that as soon as I had finished my luncheon, I
would return to the studio and overlook things myself, and arrange the
portrait as I wished.
The Audience passed off as usual. Immediately after luncheon the ladies
were invited to go to the studio to see the portrait. The Empress
Dowager had evidently forgotten about my wish to go there first, and as
she herself, contrary to all precedent, led the way, followed by the
ladies, I could not, of course, precede her. I had not thought that
she would make such an innovation as to, herself, accompany the ladies
to the studio. I felt greatly honored, but I feared the eunuchs had
not arranged things as they should be, and knew I could do nothing
with Her Majesty present, and what was my chagrin on reaching the
hall in the wake of the Empress Dowager and the ladies, to find that
the portrait, though placed in the frame as I had desired, was in the
center of the narrow hall, and every window on both sides had been
opened to its widest extent, and the light came in from all sides! I
had shut off all the lights of this hall, except the double windows to
the north, where I had the upper glasses put in, and this is where the
picture should have been placed, but as Her Majesty’s Throne always
occupies the center of the Throne-rooms, the eunuchs evidently thought
that was the proper place for her portrait when on exhibition. As
the halls are narrow in proportion to their length, no one could get
further off than four feet from this life-size portrait. This, added
to the cross-lights, was heartrending. I was in despair. Her Majesty’s
presence prevented my ordering the eunuchs to change the position
of the portrait, and, besides, every one had already seen it! The
ladies, who could not do otherwise than express their admiration in the
presence of both the August Subject and the artist, duly praised the
portrait. Her Majesty, who knew how it looked in its proper light, and
who only glanced at it here, did not realize at what a disadvantage it
appeared, and was perfectly satisfied with the effect.
[Illustration: THE PORTRAIT OF THE EMPRESS DOWAGER IN ITS FRAME
This Frame is Made of Camphor-wood Carved in the Palace after the
Empress’s own Designs and under Her Direction]
An amusing little incident took place while the ladies were looking
at it. The Empress Dowager, in her cursory examination in this light,
noticed a part of the trimming of the gown where the design was not
well worked out. She came up to me, as I stood in a group of ladies,
and pointed out the defect. She took my hand in hers, and said in an
almost pleading way, “There is a bit of trimming that is not well
finished. You will arrange it for me, will you not, Ker-Gunia?” She did
not believe in leaving anything to the imagination, and wished every
detail fully worked out!
This portrait was very successfully photographed, and Her Majesty
concluded she liked it much better than the one which had been sent
to St. Louis. She said it would make me “famous.” But when I thought
of how I might have painted this wonderfully interesting woman in the
unique setting in which she was placed, I realized that “it might have
been” are really the “saddest words of tongue or pen.”
The precedent having been established, the idea of a representation of
the Sacred Person of a Chinese Majesty being seen by the world having
been accepted, the painting of Her Majesty’s first portrait not having
been followed by the dire results that the Chinese had prophesied, the
traditional prejudice was overcome, and when she saw how quickly the
photograph was made of the portrait, and how satisfactory it was, she
decided she would have the photographer try one of herself, and she was
not one to stop at a single trial. After waiting sixty-eight years to
see a counterfeit presentment of herself, I know she will now indulge
this new fantasy of hers to its fullest extent, and perhaps some other
artist may at some time paint her according to western ideas, and
represent her attractive personality in its best setting. But there
must always be a pioneer, and he it is who suffers the hardships and
makes the way clear for others, which must be my solace and consolation
for not being able to paint her as I should have liked. The Empress
Dowager “consented” to have a portrait of herself painted. Before I
finished the first one she told me she wanted “many,” and suggested my
passing the rest of my life out in Peking. I painted four. Who will do
the others?
I felt I could not go on forever painting portraits, according to
Chinese traditions, of the Empress Dowager. I could not spend my life
in this dalliance with Oriental splendor. The world beyond the Palace
gates called me. I hurried to finish my task. The last portrait was
nearing completion. My sojourn at the Palace was drawing to a close.
Though I longed to be where I might paint in a freer way, I looked
forward with real regret to leaving the Palace, and especially to
leaving the Empress Dowager and the young Empress, for I had come to
really love them. I found Her Majesty by far the most fascinating
personality it had ever been my good fortune to study at such close
range. The young Empress was a sweet, kind nature, full of dignity
and pathos, for whom I prayed there might be greater happiness in
store than had yet fallen to her lot. My sojourn at the Palaces of Her
Imperial Majesty the Empress Dowager of China, my association with
herself and the Ladies of her Court, I shall always remember as one of
the most charming experiences of my life.
TRANSCRIBERS’ NOTES
The following changes have been applied to the text:
Page 30: “transcience” changed to “transience”: _It was a plaint on
the transience of worldly glory_
Page 94: a period was added to the end of: _reaches a high state of
cultivation with them._
Page 95: “pendative” changed to “pendentive”: _The carved wood ceilings
were in pendentive designs_
Page 125: “Macchiavellian” changed to “Machiavellian”: _no Machiavellian
schemes would be forwarded_
Page 204: “pendatives” changed to “pendentives”: _dome, with elaborately
carved pendentives, was painted in_
Page 238: “ge” changed to “get”: _it was impossible to get any
atmosphere in the background_
Page 247: “Hierachy” changed to “Hierarchy”: _the Priestly Hierarchy of
the whole_
The following markings were added to the plain text to indicate the
original text styles: “=” for bold and “_” for italics. In addition,
all small-caps have been replaced with capital letters.
All inconsistencies in the hyphenation of words and the spelling of
names have been standardized.
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