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.