The Forbidden City

Start with the ground beneath your feet. The stone here is worn smooth and slightly uneven, polished by centuries of shoes. Look up, and the colours arrive all at once: deep red walls, golden-yellow roof tiles, and a pale northern sky. Even with crowds around you, there is a strange hush. The walls are tall and thick, and they hold the noise of modern Beijing at a distance.

Welcome to the Forbidden City, the imperial palace of China for nearly five hundred years. Its Chinese name, Zijincheng, means the Purple Forbidden City. The purple refers to the Pole Star, which ancient Chinese astronomers saw as the home of the Celestial Emperor. The ruler on earth lived here, at the centre of his own world. And it was forbidden because ordinary people could not enter without permission. For most of its history, this was a closed universe.

The palace was built in the early fifteenth century under the Yongle Emperor of the Ming dynasty. He moved the capital north from Nanjing to Beijing. Construction ran from 1406 to 1420, a remarkably short time for a project of this size. Timber came from distant forests in the southwest. Stone came from quarries outside the city. Huge numbers of labourers and craftsmen worked on site. Today the complex covers roughly seventy-two hectares and holds close to a thousand buildings.

Here is the first surprise. You may hear that the palace has exactly 9,999 rooms. Legend says that only heaven could have ten thousand rooms, so the emperor stopped one short. It is a good story, but it is a story. Modern surveys count fewer rooms than that. The legend survives because it captures something true: every detail here was planned to show the emperor's place just below heaven.

If you entered from the south, you passed through the Meridian Gate, the largest gate of the palace. From its towers, emperors announced the new calendar each year and reviewed returning armies. Beyond it, a curving stream called the Golden Water River crosses the first courtyard. Five marble bridges span it. The central bridge was reserved for the emperor alone. Officials walked on the side bridges, and their rank decided which one.

The palace is divided into two parts. The southern half is the Outer Court, where the emperor held ceremonies and met his officials. The northern half is the Inner Court, where the imperial family lived. The great halls stand on one central axis running north to south. This axis continues beyond the palace walls and through the old city. Everything is symmetrical, and everything faces south, toward warmth and light.

Now you reach the Hall of Supreme Harmony, the largest hall in the palace. It stands on a three-level marble terrace. Here emperors were enthroned, married, and celebrated major festivals. Look at the corners of the roof. A small line of ceramic figures runs along each ridge, led by a man riding a bird. This hall has ten figures behind him, more than any other building in China. The number marks it as the highest rank of all.

Notice the floor inside the halls, if you can see it through the doorways. The dark, smooth bricks are known as golden bricks. They were not made of gold. They were fired slowly near Suzhou, far to the south, then soaked and polished until they rang when struck. The name may come from their value, or from their sound. Either way, they show how much care went into a surface most people never noticed.

Walk around the courtyards and you will see large metal vats placed near the halls. These held water in case of fire, because the palace was built almost entirely of wood. Some of the bronze vats were once covered in gold. During the occupation of Beijing by foreign troops in 1900, soldiers scraped gold from their surfaces. On some vats, you can still see the scratch marks. It is a small, quiet scar from a violent year.

Pass into the Inner Court and the scale becomes more human. The courtyards are smaller. The buildings feel closer together. Emperors of the Qing dynasty, the last imperial dynasty, often lived and worked in the Hall of Mental Cultivation, to the west of the main axis. Behind the walls, thousands of people served the court: eunuchs, maids, guards, cooks. The palace was not only a monument. It was a crowded, busy household with its own strict rules.

The last emperor, Puyi, gave up the throne in 1912 as a young child. Surprisingly, he was allowed to keep living in the Inner Court for more than a decade. He left in 1924. The following year, in 1925, the palace opened as the Palace Museum. In the 1930s, many treasures were packed and sent south to protect them from war. A large part of that collection is now in the National Palace Museum in Taipei.

At the northern end lies the Imperial Garden. After the open, paved courtyards, it feels almost private. Old cypress trees twist over rockeries and small pavilions. This was where the imperial family could walk among plants and stone. Then you leave through the Gate of Divine Prowess, the northern exit. Across the road, the hill of Jingshan Park rises. From the top, you can see the golden roofs spread out below in long, even rows.

Before you go, stop for a moment. Look along the red wall and the line of yellow roofs. Listen to the footsteps on the stone, the voices in many languages. For centuries, very few people could stand where you stand now. Today the gates are open, and the palace belongs to visitors from everywhere. As you walk out, notice how the city sounds return slowly, one step at a time.