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 enclosure. 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 openwork 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 enclosure 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 enclosure. In Her Majesty’s enclosure, 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.
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 enclosure 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 summerhouses which surmount their angles. These walls, quite overtopping the cities and houses they enclose, with their watchtowers 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 Khan. The lower roads on either side of this raised causeway are generally in a lamentable state. Itinerant cooks ply their odorous trade of frying greaseballs, etc.; barbers shave their clients and act as manicures and chiropodists, in full view of the passerby; 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
