Five Arch: First pailow of the Ming Tomb
Passing through another great yard planted with cypresses and oaks, a way cut into solid masonry leads up to the carefully closed door of the tomb. This passage divides into two branches, both leading to a long flight of steps which mount to the top of the terrace, where, immediately above the coffin passage, is an immense upright slab bearing an inscription. The mound on which this tomb is placed is half a mile in circuit, and, though artificial, looks natural, being planted with cypresses and oaks to the very top. The emperors used to come in the Spring and Autumn to sacrifice at these ancient graves, but for two centuries this duty has been left to a descendant of the Ming emperors.
There were different features to each of the Ming tombs, but, having seen the representative one, we were content to return to Nankow, as we were to take the afternoon train for Peking. While the trip to the Great Wall and the Ming tombs is somewhat fatiguing, the interest is so great as to reward one for the exertion.
We went our individual ways the last day in Peking, I to the Chinese City in pursuit of a mandarin coat for a friend. After passing through block after block in a chaotic condition, dirt and debris of all kinds flung everywhere, I left the chair and walked quite a distance through lane-like passages to the place designated, where I found that the dealer had transferred all his embroideries to the hotel in which we were staying, and that the said coat was probably in the collection I had looked at the previous evening. Having devoted two hours to the pursuit, I was somewhat discomfited. I then hurried to some of the streets leading off from Beggars' Bridge, a place which is, as its name suggests, the headquarters for beggars. Strange as it may seem, there is a guild of beggars in Peking, with an acknowledged king; their profession in the East is a fine art. There are interesting thoroughfares leading out from this bridge,—one, a Curio Street, where every conceivable article can be found, and the other, Bookseller Street. This last was a disappointment, as I was told that rare editions could be had; but through the interpreter, I learned that the conditions of the city had been altered since the Boxer Rebellion in 1890. Indeed, that fearful event was the cause of many changes in Peking and of great suffering as well. The story of the conflict as related by an eyewitness was very thrilling. Certain portions of the city at the present time consist of naught but ruins, such as the foreign mission buildings and the eastern and southern cathedrals, one of which was in process of renovation. The Legation quarter has been mostly rebuilt.
The cause of the Boxer Rebellion was everywhere given in Peking as having been instigated by the Dowager Empress and her sympathizers. No one can visit the city without receiving some definite impression of this wonderful woman, who for years has dominated all other authority—violating traditions considered sacred, and ruling with an imperious hand. For the Emperor only sympathy was felt. Of a refined, sensitive nature, but not strong physically, he seems to be a man of intelligence and of broad ideas. This was shown in 1898, when he announced that he intended to rule as other emperors did—to visit throughout his Empire; he even projected a railway journey to Tientsin in September, and planned many innovations. This was accomplished in conjunction with a few kindred spirits belonging to the so-called Reform Party in China.
Soon after, the Empress seemingly acquiesced in the plan of reform, and announced that she too was interested in progress; but, whether sincere or not, erelong the tables were turned; six of the Emperor's advisers were beheaded, and the seventh, an intimate friend of the Emperor, advised in time, left the country. Then the Empress had the Emperor confined, and she was proclaimed his successor; but the open intervention of the Allied Powers caused him to be returned to the throne. It is said that for ten years he has been an invalid. Can any one wonder, knowing the constant espionage and continual opposition to which he has been subjected? After two years' contemplating of the beauties of the court, Emperor Kwang Su was married, very much against his will, however (preferring another), to the niece of the Dowager Empress, the beautiful Yohonola; her photograph proves this to be a true statement. For her has been reserved the sad fate of remaining childless, and, in consequence, she is kept in the background and rarely ever mentioned. Tsze Hsi An is really one of the most remarkable women in the world's history. Of very humble origin, and uneducated, she, on the birth of her son, became the reigning Emperor's wife of the second rank. At his death and also at the death of her superior, she became regent during the minority of her son, and on his death violated traditions (the law prohibiting succession to one of the same generation as the dead ruler), and had the nephew of the deceased Emperor proclaimed, she reigning as regent until his majority and virtually thereafter.