Imperial Woman (41 page)

“I have so asked,” Prince Kung said.

“And that is their reply?” she demanded. Fire flew from her eyes, and her cheeks were scarlet.

“They say there is no comparison between their civilizations and ours, that our laws are inferior to theirs, and therefore they must protect their own citizens.”

She ground her white teeth together. “Yet they live here, they insist upon staying here, they will not leave us!”

“No, Majesty,” Prince Kung said.

She sank upon her throne. “I see they will not be satisfied until they possess our land as they have already possessed other lands—India and Burma, the Philippines and Java and the islands of the sea.”

To this Prince Kung did not reply, for indeed he could not. He, too, feared it was true.

She lifted her head, her lovely face gone pale and stern.

“I tell you, we must rid ourselves of foreigners!”

“But how?” he asked.

“Somehow,” she said, “anyhow! And to this I shall give my whole mind and heart from now until I die.”

She drew herself up straight and cold, and did not speak for a matter of minutes, and he knew himself dismissed.

Thereafter in all the Empress Mother did, in work or pleasure, she kept within her mind and heart this one question—how could she rid her realm of foreigners?

In the autumn of the sixteenth year of the young Emperor T’ung Chih, the Empress Mother decided that he should take his consort, and having decided she consulted with the Grand Council and those clansmen and princes who must agree with her. Upon the day prescribed by the Board of Astrologers, therefore, six hundred beautiful maidens were called, of whom one hundred and one were chosen by the Chief Eunuch, Li Lien-ying, to pass before the young Emperor and his imperial mother.

It was autumn, a day of brilliant sunshine, and courtyards and terraces blazed with chrysanthemums. The Empress and her co-Regent sat in the Palace of Eternal Spring to view the maidens. This hall was a favorite of the Empress Mother, for the wall paintings in the verandas surrounding the courtyard were from
The Dream of the Red Chamber,
a book she loved to read, and so skillfully had the artist done his work that the paintings seemed to open the walls to scenes beyond.

In the middle of this place of beauty were set three thrones, and on the central one, higher than the rest, the Emperor sat, while his mother and his foster mother, as Regents, sat on either side. The young Emperor wore his imperial-yellow dragon robes, his round hat on his head and upon it the sacred peacock feather fastened by a button of red jade. He held his shoulders straight and his head high, but his mother knew that he was excited and pleased. His cheeks were scarlet and his great black eyes were bright. Surely he was the most beautiful young man under Heaven, she thought, and she was proud to know him hers. Yet she was divided between pride and love, jealous lest one of the maidens be too beautiful and take him from her, yet longing to make him happy by giving him the most beautiful.

A golden trumpet now blew three blasts to signify that the procession was about to begin. The Chief Eunuch prepared to read the names of the maidens as they passed, each to pause for an instant before the Throne, to bow deeply, then to lift her face. One by one they came into the far end of the hall, too distant yet to be seen beyond the bright and many-colored garments that they wore, their headdresses sparkling and twinkling in the light from the great doors thrown open to the morning sun.

Again the trumpet blew its golden notes, and listening, her head not turning, her eyes fixed upon the flowers on the wide terrace outside the hall, the Empress Mother recalled that day, a lifetime ago, it seemed, and yet less than twenty years, when she herself was one of the maidens who stood before the Emperor.

Ah, but what a difference between that Emperor and this handsome son of hers! How her heart had dropped disconsolate when she looked at the wizened figure, the pallid cheeks of that Emperor, but what maiden could fail to love her son? Her eyes slid toward him, but he was stealing looks at the far end of the hall. The maidens were coming one by one, tripping over the smooth tiles of the floor, a moving, glittering line of beauties. And here was the first one, her name—but it was impossible to remember their names. The Empress Mother looked at the record which a eunuch had placed beside her on a small table, the name, the age, the pedigree—no, not this one! The girl passed, her head drooping.

One by one they came, some tall, some small, some proud, some childlike, some dainty in prettiness, some as handsome as boys. The young Emperor stared at each one and made no sign. The morning crept past, the sun rose high and the broad beams bright upon the floor grew narrow and disappeared. A soft gray light filled the hall and the chrysanthemums, still sunlit, glowed like running flame along the terraces. The last maiden passed late in the afternoon and the trumpet blew again, three concluding notes. The Empress Mother spoke.

“Did you see one you like, my son?”

The Emperor turned the sheets of the written records he held and he put his finger on a name.

“This one,” he said.

His mother read the description of the maiden.

“Alute, aged sixteen, daughter of Duke Chung Yi, who is one of the first Bannermen and a scholar of high learning. Although he is Manchu, the family being Manchu without mixture, their history recorded for three hundred and sixty years, yet this Duke studied the Chinese classics and attained the noble scholastic rank of Han Lin. The maiden herself has the pure requirements of absolute beauty. Her measurements are correct, her body is sound, her breath is sweet. Moreover, she also is learned in the books and in the arts. She is of good repute, her name being unknown outside her family. Her temper is mild and she is inclined to silence rather than to speech. This is the result of her natural modesty.”

The Empress Mother read these favorable words.

“Alas, my son,” she said, “I do not remember this one among the many others. Let her be brought before us again.”

The Emperor turned to the Empress Dowager at his left. “Foster Mother, do you remember her?”

To the surprise of all, the Dowager replied, “I do remember her. She has a kind face, without pride.”

The Empress Mother was secretly displeased to think that she had failed where the other had not, but she showed only courtesy in her reply.

“How much better are your eyes than mine, Sister! It is I then who must see the maiden again.”

So saying she beckoned to a eunuch who relayed her command to the Chief Eunuch and Alute was returned to the viewing place. She entered once more, and the Imperial Three stared at her as she crossed the long distance between the door and the Throne. She walked gracefully, a slight young girl, seeming to drift toward them, her head drooping and her hands half hidden in her sleeves.

“Come nearer to me, child,” the Empress Mother commanded.

Without diffidence but with exquisite modesty the young girl obeyed. The Empress Mother put out her hand then and took the maiden’s hand and pressed it gently. It was soft but firm and cool without being cold. The palm was dry, the nails were smooth and clear. Still holding the narrow young hand, the Empress Mother next examined the girl’s face. It was oval, smoothly rounded, the eyes large, and the black lashes long and straight. She was pale, but the pallor was not sallow and the skin was lucent with health. The mouth was not too small, the lips delicately cut and the corners deep and sweet. The brow was broad and neither too high nor too low. The head was set upon a neck somewhat long but graceful and not too slender. Proportion was the beauty here, each feature in good proportion to all, and the figure was neither tall nor short, it was slender but not thin.

“Is this a suitable choice?” the Empress Mother inquired in doubt.

She continued to stare at the girl. Was there a hint of firmness about the chin? The lips were lovely but not childish. Indeed, the face was wiser than the face of one only sixteen years of age.

“If I read this face aright,” she went on, “it signifies a stubborn nature. I like to see a soft-faced maiden, not one so thin as this one. Even for a common man an obedient wife is best, and the consort of an Emperor must above all be submissive.”

Alute continued to stand, her head lifted, her eyes downcast.

“She looks clever, Sister,” the co-Regent ventured.

“I do not wish my son cursed with a clever wife,” the Empress Mother said.

“But you are clever enough for us all, Mother,” the young Emperor said, laughing.

The Empress Mother could not keep from smiling at such retort, and willing to be good-natured and even generous on such a day she said, “Well, choose this maiden, then, my son, and do not blame me if she is willful.”

The maiden knelt again and put her head upon her hands folded on the floor. Three times she bowed her head to the Empress Mother, three times to the Emperor now her lord, and three times to the Empress co-Regent. Then rising, she walked away as she had come, with the same drifting, graceful gait, and so disappeared from their sight.

“‘Alute,’” the Empress Mother mused. “It is a pleasant name—”

She turned to her son. “And what of concubines?” she asked. For it was customary that the four most beautiful girls after the one chosen should be set aside as imperial concubines.

“I pray you choose these for me, Mother,” the Emperor said carelessly.

This pleased the Empress Mother, for if sometime she should wish to weaken the tie between her son and his Consort, she could command a concubine whom she had chosen, who, thus bound to her by favor, could step between the royal pair.

“Tomorrow,” she promised. “Today I’m surfeited with girlish beauty.”

So saying she rose, smiled at her son, and the day of choice was ended.

When the Empress Mother had chosen concubines the next day, it remained only for the Board of Astronomers to consult the heavens and search the stars for the lucky date of marriage. This they declared to be the sixteenth day of the tenth solar month of this same year, the hour to be exactly midnight. On the day and at the hour a member of this Board, careful that the very moment be certain, walked before the wedding sedan, wherein Alute sat behind its scarlet curtains to be carried from her father’s house to the palace of the Emperor, and this Board member held in his hand a thick red candle whereon were marked the hours, so that not one moment could pass the midnight without his knowing. Exactly at the hour—nay, at the minute and the second—the Emperor, waiting with his courtiers, the Empress Mother and the Empress Dowager, accepted Alute for his bride. She stepped from the wedding chair, two matrons at her elbows, and two other matrons, the four being titled as Teachers of the Marriage Bed, came forward to receive her and present her to the Emperor.

Thirty days of feasting followed, the afternoons and nights of plays and music, the people of the nation forbidden work or trouble and commanded to enjoy their ease and pleasure. When these days were ended, too, the young Emperor and his Empress were ready to be declared the heads of the nation, but first the Regents must step down from where they had ruled for twelve full years, and though the Empress Mother spoke of herself as only one of two, all knew she was the sole ruler. Again the Board of Astronomers must choose the lucky day, and after studying the stars and omens, the twenty-sixth day of the first moon month was chosen. On the twenty-third day of that same month the Empress Mother sent forth an edict, signed by the Emperor and sealed with the great seal always in her possession, which declared that the Regents now requested him to take the Throne, for they wished to end their Regency. This request the Emperor answered by his own edict saying that he in filial piety must receive it as a command from the older generation and his edict ended thus: “In respectful obedience to the commands of their Majesties, We do in person on the twenty-sixth day of the first moon of the twelfth year of the reign of T’ung Chih enter upon the important duty assigned to Us.”

After this, the Empress Mother announced she would retire to enjoy the accumulating years of her life, and so she did, and she let her son rule alone, thereafter, and she declared that her goal was won, her duty done, for she gave the realm intact to her son, the Emperor.

These were her days of peace and pleasure. No longer did the Empress Mother rise in the darkness before dawn to hold audience for those who came from near and far to appeal to the Throne. No longer must she consider the affairs of the nation, make judgments and decide punishments and rewards.

She slept late, rising when she felt inclined, and when she waked she lay awhile, thinking of the day ahead, the lovely empty day in which she had no duty save to be herself. Weighted as she had been all these years with the cares of the realm, today when she woke she could think of her peony mountain. In the largest of her main courtyards she had commanded a hill to be raised and then terraced with peony beds. The young leaves were full and the early buds were swelling into great flowers, rose-colored and crimson and pure white. Each morning hundreds of new blooms waited for her coming, and more eagerly than she had ever hastened to the Throne Hall she rose and made ready for the viewing. She had slept as usual in her inner garments of long pantaloons tied at the ankle and a soft silk tunic with wide sleeves. When she was bathed she put on fresh pantaloons and tunic of pink silk and short outer robe of blue brocaded silk, reaching only to her ankles, for she planned to spend the day entirely with her flowers and birds, and she could not cumber herself by a long robe. While an aged eunuch dressed her hair, she watched the Court ladies make her vast bed, for she would not allow servants or eunuchs or old women to touch her bed, saying that they were dirty, that they had foul breath or some other defect. Thus only her young and healthy ladies could attend the bed, and she watched all they did lest any detail be overlooked. First the quilts and three mattresses must be taken into the courtyard to be aired and sunned all day and she allowed the eunuchs to carry only these. While they did so, the ladies removed the felt that covered the woven bed bottom and swept the bottom with a small broom made of braided horsehair. They must sweep, too, into every corner of the heavy carving of the wooden sides of the bed and the frame that supported the satin curtains. Over the felt they must then place three mattresses which had been aired and sunned the day before, and these were covered with yellow brocaded satin. Over them were spread fresh sheets of delicately tinted silk, very smooth and soft, and over these again were placed six silken covers of pale purple, blue, green, pink, gray and ivory. To cover these the ladies spread last a yellow satin counterpane, embroidered in golden dragons and blue clouds. In the curtains of the bed were hung small bags of dried flowers mixed with musk, and as the scent faded, new bags were hung.