The Grandeur of the Hall of Joyful Longevity

The Hall of Joyful Longevity (Leshou Tang) stood as a magnificent testament to imperial power and personal taste during the late Qing Dynasty. Visitors approaching this private residence of Empress Dowager Cixi would first notice the imposing black lacquer plaque with golden characters, personally inscribed by Emperor Guangxu. The hall’s architecture followed traditional palace designs but on a grander scale, with distinctive features that revealed much about its famous occupant.

The main hall measured approximately 1,000 square meters, its ceiling soaring to impressive heights. One entire wall featured floor-to-ceiling windows fitted with exquisite cobalt blue glass, partially obscured at the bottom by high-quality Korean paper screens. This blue theme extended throughout the interior – from the carefully selected window dressings to the sumptuous blue silk door curtains, suggesting the Empress Dowager’s particular fondness for this color, second only to imperial yellow in her decorative schemes.

A Palace of Contrasts: Traditional Splendor Meets Modern Curiosity

The hall’s layout revealed the complex personality of its resident. To the right stood a Buddhist chapel housing a serene Guanyin statue seated on a lotus blossom, surrounded by offerings of fresh fruit and flowers, with incense perpetually burning in an ornate censer. The left side contained the formal reception area with its throne, imperial desk, ceremonial fans, and glass screens – all symbols of state power.

Remarkably, this traditional setting also contained surprising modern elements. The hall boasted an impressive collection of eighty-five Western clocks, each more elaborate than the last. These mechanical marvels, gifts from officials returning from abroad, featured singing birds, flowing water, and parading figurines. While technologically fascinating, the memoirist notes they paled in artistic comparison to the Chinese porcelain and antiquities displayed nearby.

The Private Chambers: Where Power Dressed and Rested

Beyond the public spaces lay the Empress Dowager’s private quarters. The western suite served as her bedroom, while the eastern suite functioned as a dressing room. The bedroom contained an unusual combination of furnishings – traditional Chinese pieces alongside Western-style chairs, including one particular favorite: a ornately carved rosewood armchair with a circular backrest and yellow cushions, reserved primarily for portrait sessions.

The dressing area featured a full-length mirror reaching to the ceiling, surrounded by precious objects. Two peacock feather fans with sandalwood handles stood in cloisonné stands, flanked by vases of the same exquisite craftsmanship. Large antique dishes displayed seasonal fruits – apples, quinces, and Buddha’s hand citrons – arranged with artistic precision alongside abundant fresh flowers.

The Imperial Portrait Sessions: Art and Diplomacy

The portrait sessions revealed much about Cixi’s self-image and diplomatic awareness. During one memorable sitting, she carefully examined the work in progress and made a significant concession – removing her jewel-encrusted gold nail guards to reveal her natural fingers, despite the Qing aristocracy’s fashion for extremely long nails as status symbols.

In another telling moment, she considered holding a lotus blossom for the portrait but ultimately accepted the artist’s subtle suggestion that appearing relaxed rather than ceremonious would present a more approachable image to international audiences at the upcoming world exposition. These interactions demonstrate Cixi’s careful cultivation of her public image and surprising willingness to adapt traditions for diplomatic purposes.

A Ruler’s Daily Rhythms and Pastimes

After morning court sessions, Cixi would change from formal court dress into more comfortable clothing, specially selected for portrait sittings. Her daily routine often included leisurely activities following state affairs. One afternoon, she abruptly paused a painting session to enjoy a boat excursion on Kunming Lake.

The imperial barge, pulled by two escort boats with yellow ropes, glided across the water while Cixi sat enthroned under the yellow canopy, surrounded by court ladies. The idyllic scene became even more poetic when she ordered two eunuchs to sing – their clear voices harmonizing with the lake’s beauty and distant Western Hills shrouded in mist.

The Imperial Gardens: Nature Under Command

The excursion continued to an apple orchard containing thousands of trees, where Cixi demonstrated her gracious side by allowing attendants to pick fruit and presenting some personally to her guests. The apples held symbolic importance in Chinese culture as representations of peace and prosperity, often used in Buddhist offerings, though the memoirist notes they lacked flavor compared to Western varieties.

Adjacent flower gardens showcased Cixi’s famous passion for horticulture. She moved gracefully among the blooms, selecting small flowers to place behind her ears and those of her companions – a deliberate gesture of favor meant to ensure respectful treatment from the palace staff. The gardens contained carefully arranged potted plants rather than cut flowers, following Chinese tradition, though Cixi developed her own distinctive style of displaying blossoms in shallow basins.

The Politics of Petals: Flowers as Imperial Prerogative

The gardens operated under strict protocols that mirrored imperial authority. While courtiers could generally pick flowers freely, none could touch the first bloom or fruit of any plant – this privilege belonged exclusively to the Empress Dowager. Receiving even a single blossom from her hands counted as a significant honor, to be treated with reverence. These seemingly minor customs powerfully reinforced the hierarchy and absolute nature of imperial power.

Cixi’s floral obsession influenced court culture profoundly. Officials and aristocrats competed to present rare specimens, knowing her appreciation could lead to favor. Flowers adorned every space from bedrooms to theaters, and outside formal state functions, Cixi nearly always wore fresh blossoms in her hair. Her intimate relationship with flowers – smelling them gently, admiring them thoughtfully – presented a softer side often missing from historical accounts that emphasize her political ruthlessness.

The Empress’s Contradictions: Tradition and Modernity in Personal Taste

Cixi’s living space embodied fascinating contradictions. She maintained strict formal posture on throne-like seats yet enjoyed Western-style comfortable chairs. She preserved ancient Chinese traditions while collecting European mechanical curiosities. Her love for flowers and nature coexisted with absolute insistence on imperial prerogatives over even the smallest blossom.

The Hall of Joyful Longevity’s very name – expressing wishes for happiness and long life – contrasted with the political realities of her reign during China’s turbulent late imperial period. Yet within these walls, we glimpse a complex ruler who balanced state ceremony with personal pleasures, traditional arts with foreign technologies, and imperial majesty with surprising moments of informality – all carefully curated aspects of her multifaceted identity as China’s last powerful empress dowager.