Chapter 20: Audience at the Gate

The morning court, also called "audience at the gate," commonly known as the small court assembly, was generally held before the Huangji Gate. As for those held in Huangji Hall itself, those were the grand court assemblies—only on the three major festivals and special celebratory occasions each year was the grand court ceremony held in Huangji Hall.

Officials in the Ming dynasty worked far harder than today's civil servants—it was downright miserable. Every day they first attended the morning court, then went to their respective offices to sit their shifts.

In the early Ming, Emperor Chengzu Zhu Di was relatively diligent, normally beginning the morning court at the mao hour—that is, five o'clock in the morning by modern Beijing time. The hundred officials would often arrive as early as three in the morning to wait outside the Meridian Gate.

The next day, Zhu Cilang rose early. After finishing his morning meal, he hurried to the Qianqing Palace to attend the morning court together with the Chongzhen Emperor.

The long-awaited audience at the gate finally began. By now, over a hundred officials were already standing before the Huangji Gate.

At the very front was a group of Grand Secretaries led by Chief Grand Secretary Wen Tiren. Behind them, the nobles and all civil and military officials stood in two rows on either side—civil officials on the left, military officials on the right. At the very back of the hundred officials stood a group of Embroidered Uniform Guard constables clutching blades.

Every civil and military official stood ramrod straight, no one daring to move, because at this time Censors responsible for inspection were supervising on the side. Anyone who coughed, spat, jostled, or appeared sloppy in bearing would be recorded and dealt with after the court session. Some who went too far would be dragged out on the spot by the Embroidered Uniform Guard.

In the center of the corridor atop the Huangji Gate was the Emperor's throne. Flanking the throne stood burly generals in full armor, quite imposing, charged with protecting the Emperor.

On both sides below the throne stood bands from the Bell and Drum Office. When the Chongzhen Emperor reached the gate, a eunuch cracked the whip, and then the Bell and Drum Office struck up music.

Strongmen of the Embroidered Uniform Guard also swiftly raised the five canopies and four round fans, along with various other regalia representing the Son of Heaven's imperial progress. Then, from the east and west sides, they followed the Chongzhen Emperor up the marble terrace and took their positions behind and to the left and right of the imperial throne.

After the Chongzhen Emperor sat down on the throne, a eunuch cracked the whip once more, and immediately a palace attendant stepped forward and called out in a long voice: "Kneel!"

The civil and military officials performed the rite of one kowtow and three prostrations, shouting "Long live the Emperor" in unison. Only then did the morning court formally begin. The whole sequence of procedures was quite grand.

After the rites were completed, the officials raised their heads for a furtive look and saw that an extra seat had been added beside the imperial throne, upon which sat a youth—none other than His Highness the Crown Prince, Zhu Cilang.

Though many felt some surprise, no one dared say anything. After all, the Eastern Palace had already come of age and was qualified to participate in court politics—they just hadn't expected him to participate at such a young age.

Zhu Cilang sat at the Chongzhen Emperor's lower hand, marveling inwardly. So attending the morning court involved this many formalities—nothing at all like the simple version in later generations' films and television, held in a great hall with just a dozen or so ministers participating.

This morning court was held completely in the open air, and there were an enormous number of officials—several hundred including various imperial relatives. He'd heard that during the founding Emperor Zhu Yuanzhang's reign, there had even been over a thousand.

Still, with this many people, most were probably just there to make up the numbers—those in back couldn't hear a word of what was said up front. In truth, the officials in back held low ranks and could barely get a word in edgewise anyway. But hey, participation was what counted!

Zhu Cilang sat on his wooden chair as if auditing the proceedings. He noticed that once the morning court began, officials couldn't just step forward to memorialize at will—there was a whole procedure to follow.

First, officials of the Court of State Ceremonial stepped out of formation to report to the Chongzhen Emperor the number of officials entering the capital to give thanks and leaving the capital to request leave.

These officials had all registered with the Court of State Ceremonial the previous day. If the Emperor wished to receive them, they would first have an audience; if the Emperor did not wish to see them, they would perform the rite of five bows and three kowtows from afar outside the Meridian Gate. Once the rite was done, the matter was concluded and they could be on their way.

Fortunately, this procedure happened every day, and on average the daily number wasn't large, so it didn't waste much time.

Next came the most important segment of the morning court—the "memorializing of affairs." The first matters reported were dispatches from the frontier passes.

Minister of War Zhang Fengyi cleared his throat, then stepped out of formation holding his tablet of office and reported: "Your Majesty, according to the battle report from Grand Coordinator Lu Xiangsheng at the front lines, the forces of the bandit chief Gao Yingxiang have been routed and are now fleeing westward into the mountain forests."

The Chongzhen Emperor's face lit up with delight, and he nodded to indicate he understood.

After Zhang Fengyi returned to formation, another minister cleared his throat and stepped out to memorialize.

Zhu Cilang was curious—in such a solemn setting, why did people keep coughing? Could they all be sick or something? And why didn't any Censor record them, and why didn't the Embroidered Uniform Guard drag them away?

Only later did he learn that, by convention, every official was supposed to clear his throat once before memorializing—first, to clear his voice, and second, to signal the other ministers, meaning: "I'm about to step out and memorialize, so don't any of you jump in and talk over me."

This prevented the awkwardness of two people stepping out at the same time. If such an awkward situation did arise, officials of the Office of Transmission or the Court of State Ceremonial would normally handle the guidance—the Emperor needn't worry about it at all.

Amid a series of coughs, ministers from the various ministries stepped out one after another to memorialize, reporting the major events that had occurred over this period.

Zhu Cilang listened for quite a while, but there really wasn't anything major. The Jianzhou barbarians in the north were relatively quiet for now, not making any big moves, while the roving bandits in the south were being chased all over by government troops, burrowing deeper and deeper into the mountains.

In the end, the discussion focused on the Ministries of War, Revenue, and Works. The three Ministers coughed and bickered back and forth—when it came down to it, the Ministry of War wanted money.

Minister of War Zhang Fengyi cleared his throat and stepped out: "At present, the war in the Central Plains is going splendidly. We need funds to compensate the fallen soldiers. If we can add a bit more military pay to encourage the troops at the front, we can wipe out the roving bandits completely this year."

Minister of Revenue Hou Xun also cleared his throat and stepped out: "All the money has already been given to your Ministry of War and the Ministry of Works. As for how to compensate and how to reward, your Ministry of War should draft a proposal, present it for His Majesty's perusal, and after the vermilion endorsement, your Ministry of War can handle it yourselves."

Minister of War Zhang Fengyi wasn't having any of that. He said: "Minister Hou, what you're saying isn't right at all. Your Ministry of Revenue hasn't allocated a single tael of silver to our Ministry of War—you've sent it all south for disaster relief and levee repairs. As for the pittance you gave the Ministry of War, never mind the Central Plains campaign—it's not even enough to pay the arrears in military wages owed in Liaodong. If things go on like this, soldiers won't be soldiers anymore—they'll all be starving on empty bellies, and who'll have the strength to fight?"

Minister of Works Liu Zunxian, hearing that they'd dragged his ministry into it as well, also cleared his throat and stepped out holding up his tablet: "The Ministry of Works' silver was all disbursed according to the plan set at the start of the year—not a single tael more was ever given. And it could only be used for urgent engineering projects. We haven't pocketed a single tael of silver."

One would cough and say a line, another would cough and say a line. In the end, Hou Xun turned quite shameless—the Ministry of Revenue simply had no money, and they could do whatever they liked about it. And so the matter stalled in deadlock.

Zhu Cilang was speechless. He'd spent half the morning court listening to them blather on, and not a single problem had been solved.

The Chongzhen Emperor was already showing signs of impatience. Day after day it was nothing but silver—not a single day of peace of mind.

The Chongzhen Emperor glanced at Zhu Cilang and saw that he seemed lost in thought, apparently quite interested. So he spoke up: "Crown Prince, do you have any views on this matter?"

The assembled ministers thought: His Majesty is being far too frivolous! Letting a child sit in on court is one thing, but before matters of state, His Majesty actually asks a snot-nosed kid for his views? Can he even understand any of this?

Zhu Cilang was also taken aback at first, thinking he'd misheard. But one look at everyone's expressions told him he hadn't misheard at all.

Very well then—since his imperial father had asked, he couldn't let this convenient father of his lose face, could he? Besides, it was a good chance to let the civil and military officials get to know him.

※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※※

Note: Huangji Hall was originally called Fengtian Hall. In the forty-first year of Jiajing in the Ming dynasty, it was renamed Huangji Hall, and in the Qing dynasty it was changed to Taihe Hall. It seems that across the Ming and Qing dynasties, it caught fire four times and was rebuilt several times.