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.