The Autumnal Sacrifices to his Ancestors and His Majesty’s consequent three days’ abstinence, to prepare for them, put a stop to further festivities after the Birthday, which would have otherwise continued for several days longer. The day after the Birthday was a quiet one at the Palace. Her Majesty was feeling tired and did not care to pose, after the Audience in the morning. The visiting Princesses and Ladies were preparing to leave the Palace; the eunuchs and Her Majesty’s maids were bustling around, preparing for the moving of the Court to Peking, for Her Majesty and the Court, as well as the Emperor, were to go into one of the City Palaces the following day. Her Majesty ordered luncheon to be served in one of the beautiful summerhouses in the gardens, about a mile from the Palace, for she said a change would be good for all.

This summerhouse, or rather Palace, situated on a hill overlooking the lake, was one of Her Majesty’s favorite resorts. She often went to it, after a tiring Audience, and spent the rest of the day there, lunching and dining, and even taking her siesta there. Whenever she went to any of these Palaces inside the enclosure, she always invited all the Ladies of the Court to accompany her. It made a change in the monotony of their lives. This Palace was very luxuriously fitted up, and contained a splendid library, with thousands of volumes of the classics and Her Majesty’s favorite authors. The view from its broad verandahs and fair marble terraces was one of the finest, even of the many beautiful ones, in the grounds. We lunched on the wide verandah and drank in the beauty of the scene. No wonder Her Majesty loved this spot! Beneath lay the beautiful grounds of the Summer Palace, with its calm lake and winding streams. On an eminence beyond, the graceful seven-storied pagoda that forms so characteristic a feature in all the views of the Summer Palace, proudly reared its stately height. On the right lay the temple-crowned hills, the upturned roofs of their buildings nestling on their slopes like a flight of gigantic gaily-hued birds, with wings outspread. In the distance, beyond a soft gray undulating landscape, with fields of brilliant green here and there, lay Peking, with its walls and towers, enveloped in a golden haze.

After luncheon and the siesta, Her Majesty called me up and said she was to go into Peking on the morrow, and asked whether I wished the portrait to be taken in for the three days the Court was to remain in the City. She said she would be much occupied with ceremonies and sacrifices, and there would be but little time for painting, but if I wished to work she might be able to give me a short sitting! I told her I did not care to have the portrait taken into the City, for I knew it would not be possible to get a room with the same light as that in which I had begun the picture. When she found I did not care to paint in Peking, she suggested that I go to the United States Legation and spend the time of the Court’s sojourn at the Sea Palace. It had been more than two weeks since I had seen Mrs. Conger, or been in the Legation quarter, and I was delighted at Her Majesty’s kind forethought in allowing me to spend these days at the Legation. She, however, suggested that, as I had not seen the Sea Palace, where the Court was to go, I might enjoy coming there for the day⁠—and spending some of the time in seeing the Palace and grounds. She knew how I enjoyed seeing these beautiful Palaces, and this was another proof of her consideration. She said she would be much occupied with the ceremonies, but that she would map out a nice day for me, and would herself take me for a walk! She added, “This will give you a chance to study me, so your time will not be entirely spent in vain.” She said we would resume the portrait on the Court’s return to the Summer Palace.

After our return to her Throne-room, and when we had finished dinner, she told me I had better go into the room where the portrait and my materials were kept, when I was not working on it, and said I had better overlook its being put away myself. She followed me into the room, and herself aided and directed the arrangement of things. She ordered the “sacred picture” (for this is what the Chinese call a likeness of a reigning Emperor or Empress) to be attached to the wall with yellow cords and covered with a transparent yellow silk, boxlike screen, which had been especially made to protect it from dust. The portrait was treated, from its very beginning, as an almost sacred object, with the respect a reverent officiant accords the Holy Vessels of the Church. Even my painting materials seemed to be invested with a sort of semi-sacred quality. When Her Majesty felt fatigued, and indicated that the sittings were finished, my brushes and palette were taken by the eunuch from my hands, the portrait removed from the easel and reverently consigned to the room that had been set aside for it.

The next morning early, I preceded the Court into Peking and went directly to the United States Legation, where I was warmly welcomed by my kind friends, Mr. and Mrs. Conger. The United States Legation occupied, at this time, a Chinese temple near the “Water Gate.” This building had been given to the United States Government by the Chinese after the Boxer rebellion, and was occupied temporarily by the Minister of the United States during the construction of the new Legation on Legation Street. The temple had been transformed into a comfortable American dwelling-place⁠—its Chinese individuality having been preserved wherever possible, consistent with comfort. The shaded court, filled with beautiful, growing flowers (many of them gifts from the Empress Dowager to Mrs. Conger), was a charming spot. While distinctly American as to its artistic comfort and furniture, the interior construction and decoration of the drawing-room were purely Chinese, which gave a touch of Oriental couleur locale to this pleasant haven of American hospitality, where Mr. and Mrs. Conger dispensed their kindly favors.

Mrs. Conger, by her own individual initiative, has done much to bring about a friendly social feeling between the Chinese and foreign ladies. It was she who first thought of entertaining the Princesses and Ladies of the Court in her own home; and the United States Legation was the first of the Legations in Peking to issue an invitation to the Ladies of the Court, or to entertain them. It is the first Legation to entertain other Chinese ladies, wives of officials or of the gentry. Several other Legations have since entertained the Ladies of the Court, but in doing so they were only following Mrs. Conger’s initiative. While doing so much to bring about friendly social relations with the Chinese, Mr. and Mrs. Conger receive all Americans, regardless of their importance or social position, with a kind cordiality. I was delighted to be in their charming family circle once more. I found my room at the Legation, with its sweet touches of homeliness, a delightful haven, and my visits to the Legation seemed always like going home.

The next morning at seven, a green official chair with its bearers came to take me to the Sea Palace. I was first carried to the Hsien-Liang-Hsu, the “Temple of the loyal and virtuous,” where Li-Hung-Chang formerly had his home in Peking, and a part of which the Yu-Kengs had arranged for their home after their return from their mission at Paris, their own semi-foreign house having been destroyed by the Boxers. At the Hsien-Liang-Hsu I was joined by the Ladies Yu-Keng, and we continued on to the Sea Palace. Our chairs, with their bearers, were preceded and followed by mounted attendants.

The Sea Palace is a comparatively new Palace, most of it having been built within the last fifty years. Our chairs were met at the northern entrance by the same eunuchs who had been set aside for our service at the Summer Palace. They led us to the boats in waiting to carry us across the lake, to the buildings occupied by Her Majesty and the Court. These boats were of the houseboat variety, with an enclosed cabin forming the center, and a platform running all around, on which the rowers walked up and down propelling it. The interior was carpeted, with a cushioned lounge, tea-tables, and chairs. The eunuchs and attendants sat outside on the prow. It takes twenty minutes to row across the lake in one of these boats, but the movement is delightful. When we reached the other side, we landed and went through several courts to that of one of Her Majesty’s private chapels. She, herself, had just been making an offering here, and was coming out, preceded by acolytes swinging incense-burners, the musicians playing the “Imperial Hymn.” When she saw us, Her Majesty called us to her side, asked if I had had a good trip into Peking, and how Mrs. Conger was. She then ordered the eunuchs to show us our apartments. We were led through corridors and courts to a charming pavilion which was to be our resting-place while at the Sea Palace. It had exquisitely and elaborately carved woodwork arches with heavy satin curtains, which divided it into five rooms. After we had rested a few moments here, we returned to the Throne-room. Her Majesty told me she had arranged for me to go out in one of the boats, and that I was to be shown all that I cared to see, or at least as much as I could see in that day. A eunuch standing near her held a number of strips of embroidery in his hand. They were embroidered headdresses, which are placed upon the heads of the Buddhas during the great ceremonies in the Palace temples. She explained their use to me and then dismissed us, and we went out to the landing-place on the lake.

A number of boats lay at the foot of the steps⁠—among them a charming open barge with blue silken awnings. As I had not been in a boat of this kind before, and as I was told to choose, I selected it for our row; and we started off, followed by several other boats carrying eunuchs and refreshments, with the necessary utensils for serving them. Our head eunuch, one of the six highest in the Palace, who had been appointed to look after me and the “sacred picture,” was very intelligent, an enlightened lover of Chinese art, and a great collector of old Chinese paintings and curios. He had been, in his youth, one of Her Majesty’s favorite players, was said to have great dramatic talent, and, when he was younger, had a fine voice for singing. Memory is among the most esteemed of the intellectual faculties by the Chinese and reaches a high state of cultivation with them. Many of the eunuchs can repeat whole pages from the classics, and some are accomplished literati. This eunuch had a good speaking voice, and recited poems and told stories in a charming way. As we were rowed along, he stood at the prow and recited verse after verse of classic lore and told stories of the heroic times. He intoned them like a recitative⁠—the rhythm so perfectly observed, the intoning so musical, it was a pleasure to listen to him, though I could not understand.

I lay back among the cushions, as we glided softly along, past beautiful pavilions, with splendid trees overhanging the lake and lovely flowers growing wherever there was a place to plant them. The tall figure of the splendidly attired eunuch, standing in the prow, repeating, with rhythmic cadence, poems and stories, gave one the illusion and charm of the Arabian Nights, which I had fed upon in my childhood, and which I seemed to be living through today.

We soon came to a tiny islet in the lake, with a sort of open temple built over a black marble tablet which bore an incised inscription. I asked to land and examine it, and San-Gunia, the eldest of Lady Yu-Keng’s daughters, a remarkably clever girl and well posted in Chinese literature, translated the characters. The inscription was a poem, a tribute to the Great Father who had graciously placed there this island, which “by night was bathed in the glory of the Moon and Sun-kissed by day, while the crystal waters of the lake formed a brilliant necklace on its breast.”

Beyond the island I saw a temple. There was no landing-place, and the temple was under repair. The head eunuch, however, seeing how much I wished to go up, had the boat draw near and steps brought, up which we clambered, as best we could.

This was one of the temples so ruthlessly destroyed and unnecessarily desecrated by the Allies during their occupation of Peking. We passed through the vegetable garden of the monks⁠—all shorn of its glory, but where a few vegetables and flowers still grew⁠—and we went on through a beautiful grove of arborvitae, with centuries-old trees, planted in the form of a cross, and came into the court of the temple. Even in its dilapidated state, with the workmen still in it, it was beautiful, and before it was so injured it must have been a splendid example of Chinese temple architecture. The cells of the lama monks were now unoccupied, and there were no officiating priests. Workmen were repairing and regilding the Great Buddha, and most of the effigies of the saints and images of the personified attributes were standing in dejected rows in the corridors awaiting the completion of their niches and chapels. The interior, of splendid proportions, glowed in beautiful somber colors. The carved wood ceilings were in pendentive designs, recalling those I had seen in the Alhambra; but the painting, in primary colors, of this elaborately carved ceiling gave it a greater richness of coloring and lent to the interior a warmer, deeper harmony than the white Moorish designs. The chapels behind the high altar were separated from the main temple and from each other by beautifully carved wooden screens, with rich brocaded silk of brilliant green (the color of Buddha), stretched behind the openwork and showing through the interstices of the carving. These chapels are for the Sacred writings and for the vestments of the priests, and are also used for robing- and retiring-rooms for the officiants. They correspond to the sacristies of the Catholic Churches in Europe.

The space behind the altar was of apse-like form, and opened upon a semicircular marble terrace, thirty feet high, with a balustrade of the conventionalized lotus design so dear to the Chinese architects. From this terrace we had a beautiful view of the Coal Hill, surmounted by the curious Dagoba, so well known in all views of the Imperial City, as well as of the belvedere that marks the spot where the last Emperor of the Mings committed suicide when he was conquered. At the two extremities of the terrace were charming octagonal summerhouses, where the priests could go for rest and contemplation, and, while murmuring their prayers, could feast their eyes upon a charming view. After a few moments on the terrace, enjoying the beautiful view, we passed through the cells of the monks, which were large and comfortable, and, finally, out again into the sun-flecked shade of the marble-paved court, where we sat under low-hanging boughs of a splendid elm, and the eunuchs brought out tables and served us with tea and refreshments.

Then we took the boats and were rowed on further, till we came beneath a steep battlemented wall, surmounted by the rich green of arborvitae trees. I was surprised to learn that this was another temple, for it looked more like an old feudal castle than a peaceful temple to the mild Buddha. We landed at the foot of the beautiful white Marble Bridge that spans the narrow northern portion of the lake, just under the stone wall on which the temple was built. We were carried up the steep, winding incline in our chairs. It was a most picturesque approach, and when we reached the top, with the beautiful temple lying peacefully on these martial heights, we found it well worth the climb.

There was a grove of arborvitae trees leading to this temple. These trees seem to be sacred to the temples and burial-places in China, for all I ever visited in China were either built in a grove of arborvitae, or had some of these evergreens growing near. Did the Greeks get their idea and name of the ever-living tree from the Chinese, who regard the arborvitae as the tree of life and emblem of Immortality? This temple has a great Buddha of white jade, with jeweled stole and cuffs. Its expression of placid contemplation and kindly thought is typically Chinese. When Buddhism was first brought into China from India, the Buddhas had an Indian type; and not until the religion had taken firm hold of the people, was its divinity clothed in a Chinese personality, and a national individuality assumed. The day of our visit, the great jade Buddha was decked in a mantle of Imperial yellow satin, with a richly embroidered Manchu hood, such as I had seen that morning in Her Majesty’s Throne-room, on its head. Tall, lighted candles, fresh offerings of fruit and flowers, and the smoking censer standing on the altar, showed there had been services that morning, and added to the religious atmosphere of the interior. The service had been a continuation of the commemorative celebrations in honor of the Emperor’s Birthday and his sacrifice to his Ancestors.

The principal court of this temple is one of the most picturesque in the Sea Palace, shaded by magnificent cedars and stately elms. In the center, there was a magnificent cistern of verd-antique, splendidly carved in dragons. Over this cistern was a marble portico, its columns supporting a curious concave, copper roof. This roof had been a Palace cooking utensil, that had been used in former times to prepare food for the poor; hence its extraordinary size. When it was worn out in this capacity it was used as the interior of the dome over the temple well, where the poor and weary could come to rest under its shadow and drink of the water of the well it protected. There were cells and outhouses for the monks in this temple also. But as we sat in the shady court, looking across the sunlit lake, the sky became suddenly overcast, and we took our chairs and hurried down the steep, paved road that led from the temple to the lake. We did not take the boats again on reaching the lake, but were carried, in our chairs, across the beautiful Marble Bridge. Just beyond us, we saw the towers of the first Catholic Cathedral ever built in Peking. It was built on land given to the Catholics by the Emperor; but, when finished, its towers were found to overlook the Palace grounds; so the Cathedral was bought by the Emperor, and land was given the Mission further on, and another Cathedral was built. The first Cathedral is now within the Walls of the Sea Palace, and is visible from every part of the grounds of the two Peking Palaces. It seems a strange anomaly to see this Christian Church within the Precincts of the Palace of an Oriental potentate, who is one of the representatives on earth of the “Great Buddha.”

It began to rain, and the chair-bearers ran along to the Palace without stopping again, and we were soon called to dinner in the Throne-room, overlooking the small Theater, for there are two Theaters in the Sea Palace, one for winter use and one for summer. The latter is built on piles over the waters of a canal. Building the stage over water is supposed to give a peculiar musical resonance to the voices of the actors, softening the sounds and making them more pleasant to the ear.

After dinner in the beautiful summer Throne-room, with the rippling waters just beneath the windows, we made our adieus, first to Her Majesty and then to the young Empress and Ladies, and went out to be again rowed over the beautiful lake to the outside gates. The sun was setting! The arches of the Marble Bridge had become a beautiful, deep violet hue, and spanned the waters of the lake, now a gleaming mass of liquid gold. The sky beyond shone through the masses of foliage with a golden glow, and the towers of the old Cathedral were strongly silhouetted against this brilliant background. The scene was an ideal one. A beautiful silence pervaded everything, made the more rhythmic and intense by the regular movement of the oars in the water. When we reached the other side of the lake we were conducted to our green chairs, which were waiting without the gate, and were swiftly carried back to the Legation.