With the Empress Dowager of China

by Katharine A. Carl

I saw these painters first, at the time of the chrysanthemums. There were some new varieties in one of Her Majesty’s courts that she wished painted. One day, on going into this court, I saw a group of bebuttoned officials studying the flowers. They gravely inclined their heads with the customary dignity of the Chinese, and I found later they were “confrères.”

It was interesting to me to see their methods—so different from ours, but arriving at a very artistic result. I never spoke to them; but, as I was an outer barbarian, I took advantage of my position and watched them work from my windows, though I took care to keep myself hidden behind the curtains, in true Oriental style. They worked in the court quite near my pavilion. The chief painter selected the flower to be copied, and the others stood around while he painted, petal by petal, with most laborious and minute attention. While he worked, the others took notes and made studies of the same flower. When this laborious first study was finished, it was copied with a freer hand by one of the painters, and this copy was copied until they finally arrived at a dashing study, which seemed to be done “de premier coup.”

When the chrysanthemums were in their full glory, one day when Her Majesty had allowed me to remain at my work while she and the Ladies went for their walk, she brought me, on her return, a curious new variety. When she handed it to me she said, “I will give you something nice if you guess what I have named this flower.” It was one of those new varieties with hair-like petals and a compact center, like the bald head of an old man. I told her I was afraid I couldn’t guess, but I thought “it looked like an old man’s head.” She was delighted, and said, “You have guessed. I have just given it the name of the Old Man of the Mountain.”

We were still having daily walks in the gardens, and there was always some delightful little incident to make them pleasant and memorable. One day, when we were out and were resting, while Her Majesty was sitting alone before the “Peony Mountain,” the young Empress and Ladies stood in a group at a little distance. We were near some arbor-vitæ trees, and the young Empress picked a piece that looked like a “peacock’s feather.” She told me to kneel and let her “decorate” me. She stuck the curiously shaped branch in my hair so that it hung over the neck and looked like the “peacock feather,” which is given as a reward of merit to the highest officials, and is always worn upon their hats. When she had placed it, she told me to rise, and called me “Your Excellency Carl,” which is the title of those who possess the decoration of the peacock feather. I kept it in my hair and soon quite forgot my “decoration.” When we were walking on, Her Majesty noticed it. She had been preoccupied and sad that day, but when she saw it she smiled, and said, “Who decorated you with the peacock feather?” I told her the young Empress had done so. She said that was her prerogative, but she added, “If you were a man you would win it, and probably a yellow jacket also, for you are fearless.” Why did she think me fearless? Could she have heard that the foreigners in Peking seemed to think it was almost as much as taking my life in my own hands to go and live entirely alone among the Chinese at Court, and put myself in Her Majesty’s power, after the Boxer trouble?

PAI-LOU IN GROUNDS OF SUMMER PALACE—ON THE SHORE OF THE LAKE

Another afternoon we went into the Great Audience Hall when we were passing it, and I had an opportunity of studying in detail the interior of this magnificent hall. I examined closely some of the rare old niellée bronzes and wonderful Chinese cloisonné, for here are some of the finest specimens in the Summer Palace. In the back of the hall were three pianos, two upright and a new Grand piano, which had but lately arrived at the Palace. Her Majesty wished us to try the Grand piano, and one of Lady Yu-Keng’s daughters, who had studied music in Paris, played a few airs. Her Majesty thought the piano a curious sort of instrument, but lacking in volume and tone for so large an instrument. She asked me to play also, and then said she would like to see how the foreigners danced, and suggested my playing some dance music. The Misses Yu-Keng waltzed, and she thought it very amusing to watch them. She could not, however, understand how ladies and gentlemen could enjoy dancing together, nor what pleasure they found in it. She said the Chinese pay others to dance for them, and would not think of doing so themselves for pleasure. It seemed to her the charm was rather in watching the graceful movements of the dancer than in executing those movements one’s self. I wondered what she would say, could she see one of our crowded European ball-rooms, with hundreds of couples on the floor at the same time, making violent efforts to steer through the crowd. I fancy she would not have found pleasure even in watching these dancers.

CHAPTER XXI A EUROPEAN CIRCUS AT THE PALACE

Chinese ceremonies and celebrations were not all I was destined to enjoy while at the Summer Palace. There began to be talk of some “foreign entertainment” soon to be given, and when I found this foreign entertainment was to be a circus, a real European circus, I was delighted. I had been out in China two years, and had not had much European entertainment during that time, and—shall I confess it?—I dearly loved a circus if the horses and animals were fine. This circus was then in Tientsin, and some one had suggested to Their Majesties it would be an interesting thing to see. A young Manchu was sent to Tientsin to investigate. When he returned, flaming posters were submitted to Their Majesties by the Chief Eunuchs. When the Empress Dowager saw the vulgarly colored picture of a summarily clad young woman of the show, I was watching her face and I saw a look of contemptuous scorn pass over it. She brightened up, however, when she saw the pictures of the animals at their tricks, and the men on horses, and it was decided that the circus should be brought up from Tientsin! The animals and performers were to be domiciled in one of the parks near by, but the tent was to be stretched within the inclosure of the Palace.

Sites for the ring were discussed, and it was finally decided to have the tents pitched at the extreme western end of the lake. There was a large open field here, planted in turnips! As the turnips were ready to be gathered, it was decided that the crop should be pulled up and this place prepared for the tents.