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.