Empress Orchid - Anchee Min [174]
I discarded the proposal. Although Lady Yun and I had never been friends, I wanted to do her justice. She had spoken of her fear that her daughter would be married to a “savage.” I told the court that Princess Jung was my daughter, and it was up to me, not the court, to decide her future. Instead of marrying her off in Tibet, I sent her to Prince Kung. I wanted Jung to have a private education and learn English. When she was done, I intended for her to be my secretary and translator. After all, the day might come when I would personally speak to the Queen of England.
Twenty-four
THE PREPARATIONS for my husband’s burial were finally complete. It had taken three months and nine thousand laborers to build a special road to carry the coffin to the Imperial tomb. The bearers, all of the same height and weight, practiced day and night to perfect their steps. The tomb was located in Chihli province, not far from Peking. Each morning a table and chair were placed on top of a thick board weighing the same as the coffin. A bowl of water was placed on the table. An official climbed over the shoulders of the bearers to sit on the chair. His duty was to watch the water in the bowl. The bearers practiced marching until the water no longer spilled from the bowl.
Escorted by Yung Lu, Nuharoo and I took a trip to inspect the tomb. Officially it was called the Blessed Ground of Eternity. The earth was rock hard and covered with frost. After the long ride, I stepped down from the palanquin with stiff arms and frozen legs. There was no sun. Nuharoo and I were dressed in the customary white mourning clothes. Our necks were exposed to the cold air. Wind-blown dust beat at our skin. Nuharoo couldn’t wait to turn back.
The view moved me. Hsien Feng would be resting with his ancestors. His tomb was in one of two burial complexes, one to the east and the other to the west of Peking. It nestled in the mountains, surrounded by tall pines. The broad ceremonial way was paved with marble and flanked by enormous carved stone elephants, camels, griffins, horses and warriors. About a hundred yards along the marble road Nuharoo and I approached a pavilion in which Hsien Feng’s gold satin thrones and yellow dragon robes were kept. These would be displayed on the annual day of sacrifice. Like the mausoleum of his ancestors, Hsien Feng’s would also have its attendants and guardian troops. The governor of Chihli had been appointed to take care of the holy site and maintain its seclusion by restricting access.
We entered the tomb. The upper part, which was dome-shaped, was called the City of Treasuries. It was carved out of solid rock. The lower part was the tomb itself. The two levels were connected by staircases.
With the help of a torch we were able to see the interior. It was a large sphere about sixty feet in diameter. All was made of white marble. In the middle stood a stone bed set against a carved tablet eighteen feet in width. Emperor Hsien Feng’s coffin, on the day of the burial ceremony, would be placed on top of this bed.
There were six smaller coffins on either side of Emperor Hsien Feng’s stone bed. They were rose-colored and carved with phoenixes. Nuharoo and I glanced at each other and realized that two of them were meant for us. Our names and titles were carved on the panels: Here lies Her Motherly and Auspicious Empress Yehonala and Here lies Her Motherly and Restful Empress Nuharoo.
The cold air seeped through my bones. My lungs were filled with the smell of deep earth.
Yung Lu brought in the chief architect. He was a man in his late fifties, thin and small, almost a child in size. His eyes showed intelligence, and his kowtows and bows were performed in a style only Chief Eunuch Shim could have matched. I turned to Nuharoo to see if she had anything to say. She shook her head. I told the man to rise and then asked what had guided him to select this spot.
“I chose the site based on feng shui and