The Historical Context of Imperial Decadence

The late Qing Dynasty was a period of profound transition and tension in China. As the 19th century drew to a close, the imperial court found itself caught between ancient traditions and the encroaching forces of modernization. The Boxer Rebellion had recently been suppressed by foreign powers, and the court had returned to Beijing from Xi’an in 1902 after a period of exile. This return, known as the “imperial return to the capital,” marked a crucial moment for the Qing leadership to reassert its authority and prestige.

Against this backdrop of political vulnerability, the imperial household continued to maintain extravagant customs and ceremonies. The preparation of special trains for imperial journeys became not just a practical necessity but a powerful symbol of status and legitimacy. High-ranking officials competed to demonstrate their loyalty through lavish displays, creating an environment where the aesthetics of power often overshadowed its substantive exercise.

The Commissioning of Imperial Railway Cars

The story begins with Sheng Xuanhuai, a prominent official and industrialist who had made his fortune through various enterprises including the China Merchants’ Steam Navigation Company and involvement in railway development. Tasked with preparing railway cars for imperial use, Sheng faced the challenge of creating mobile palaces that would meet the exacting standards of the court.

Sheng’s first step was to consult through proper channels, reaching out to the powerful eunuch Li Lianying, who served as the chief eunuch for Empress Dowager Cixi. The response came back that a certain Liu Mazi, operating a curio shop called Tianbao Zhai near the back gates of the Forbidden City, was the most knowledgeable person for such specialized work. This recommendation carried significant weight, coming as it did from the empress dowager’s most trusted servant.

Liu Mazi’s shop, though outwardly unimpressive, held remarkable treasures—genuine imperial artifacts including ancient jades, calligraphy masterpieces, and priceless paintings, all originally from the imperial collection. The shopkeeper presented Sheng with a detailed list totaling 146,000 taels of silver, plus an additional 3,000 taels designated as “wages” for the installation.

The Politics of Imperial Preparation

Sheng initially balked at the additional fee, questioning why simple installation required such a substantial sum. Liu Mazi’s response revealed the high stakes involved: “If anything isn’t securely fastened and precious vases break, the cost would far exceed 3,000 taels.” Recognizing the wisdom in this argument and the importance of Li Lianying’s recommendation, Sheng approved the full amount while emphasizing the need for perfect execution.

When everything was prepared, Sheng invited Yuan Shikai, the powerful Viceroy of Zhili and commander of the Beiyang Army, to inspect the decorated railway car. Yuan found the arrangements both luxurious and elegant, but raised a practical concern: “Everything looks perfect, but if hanging screens fall during the journey due to train vibrations, someone will face charges of disrespect toward the throne. Who would dare take that responsibility?”

Sheng had anticipated this concern. He arranged a demonstration, having the train travel at maximum speed for two hours over 220 li . Throughout the journey, not a single item shifted position. Yuan, thoroughly impressed, immediately ordered that all imperial railway cars be prepared to the same standard.

The Cultural Significance of Material Display

The decoration of the imperial trains represented more than mere opulence—it embodied the complex relationship between material culture and political power in late imperial China. Each object carried symbolic meaning and historical resonance. The Kangxi-era five-color porcelain vase and the crab-shell green Xuande incense burner mentioned in the account were not merely decorative items but artifacts that connected the present court to illustrious predecessors.

The selection of these specific items from the imperial collection through Liu Mazi’s shop reflected the intricate networks through which cultural objects circulated between the palace and the outside world. Even as the Qing court faced external threats and internal challenges, the maintenance of artistic standards and ceremonial precision remained essential to its self-presentation.

When Li Lianying later inspected the cars, he offered one crucial suggestion regarding the boarding method, noting that the steps were inconvenient. Sheng immediately had a solution constructed—a gently sloping platform with secure railings, covered with colorful carpets, allowing the empress dowager to board as if walking on level ground.

The Subtle Language of Court Politics

Li Lianying’s subsequent comment to Sheng revealed the intricate dance of court politics. The eunuch mentioned that Empress Dowager Cixi had expressed concern about damaging the valuable items and creating financial liability for Sheng. This seemingly thoughtful remark actually contained a subtle message: all the decorations should be formally presented as tribute gifts rather than loaned items.

Sheng, understanding the unspoken directive, immediately prepared yellow silk labels inscribed “Respectfully presented by your servant Sheng Xuanhuai” and attached them to every valuable object. When Yuan Shikai saw this, he turned to his attendants with a sigh, repeating “Those who serve as ministers! Those who serve as ministers!” in a tone that suggested complex feelings about the expectations placed on officials.

The competitive nature of court favor became evident when Yuan, despite his apparent disapproval, immediately dispatched his own officials to arrange similar decorations for his railway cars through the same Tianbao Zhai shop, ultimately spending even more—155,000 taels of silver.

The Imperial Journey Unfolds

On the eighth day of the third lunar month, as dawn barely illuminated the sky, Emperor Guangxu performed sacrifices at the Altar of Agriculture. Following the ceremony, the imperial party proceeded to the railway station where Empress Dowager Cixi arrived to find Emperor Guangxu kneeling in welcome, followed by Prince Qing and other high-ranking officials. Notably absent was Ronglu, who lay gravely ill.

The empress dowager, in excellent spirits, ascended the specially constructed platform and boarded the train without assistance, rejecting the helping hand offered by eunuch Cui Yugui. She took her seat on a yellow velvet “happy chair” while her attendants—the empress, Princess Rongshou, and the Fourth Princess—admired the lavish decorations.

Princess Rongshou broke the silence with praise: “This Sheng Xuanhuai certainly knows how to handle imperial assignments!” The empress dowager agreed, adding “He has indeed faced difficulties,” before calling for Li Lianying to summon Sheng for an audience.

Legacy and Historical Interpretation

This episode, seemingly a minor footnote in the dramatic final years of the Qing Dynasty, actually reveals several important aspects of late imperial China. The extravagant expenditure on imperial trains occurred against a backdrop of national financial crisis and foreign encroachment, highlighting the disconnect between the court’s priorities and the country’s needs.

The competitive display between officials like Sheng Xuanhuai and Yuan Shikai demonstrates how personal advancement often took precedence over national interest. Both men would play significant roles in the coming years—Sheng as a key figure in the railway rights recovery movement and Yuan as the eventual president of the Republic of China and would-be emperor.

The meticulous attention to ceremonial detail and material luxury suggests that the Qing court understood power as performative—something demonstrated through spectacle and ritual. Even as their political authority weakened, they maintained the appearances of imperial grandeur.

The Tianbao Zhai curio shop and figures like Liu Mazi represent the intersection of commerce and culture that characterized the late Qing period. As the imperial household increasingly relied on outside sources for special projects, traditional boundaries between the forbidden city and the commercial world outside its walls became more permeable.

This historical episode ultimately serves as a metaphor for the Qing Dynasty’s final years—outwardly magnificent but fundamentally fragile, moving rapidly toward an uncertain destination while maintaining the appearance of eternal stability. The beautifully appointed railway cars, for all their perfection, were carrying the imperial system toward its eventual demise, just as China itself was speeding toward revolution and modernization.