We woke at seven, and I was just ready to get going. But, I also knew it would be a long day, and we all needed a full belly and a few supplies. Today we would walk massive ancient compounds and melt in the tropical sun. Today’s high would be well into the 90’s, and hats, bottles of water, and sunscreen would need to be packed up for our mini-expedition.
We opted to eat in the hotel’s restaurant as it just seemed less of a hassle. So, we cozied up to a table in the empty restaurant. Shortly after, a waitress came by and took our order. Diem did the talking, as was pretty standard, and within a few minutes, four steaming bowls of noodles arrived. Two relatively plain versions for the Su Xu and two regular bowls for Diem and me.
A Soup Discussion
The soup seemed to be a variation of Bún Bò Huế. A soup dish with various chunks of meat, rice vermicelli, and a rich beef broth. I have spoken many times about eating this dish on our travels. Bún Bò is the derivative soup, simply meaning rice vermicelli (Bún), and beef (Bò). The base soup is very similar to Phở Bò. Only Phở denotes a flatter noodle identical to the Pad Thai variety.
If you haven’t guessed already, Bún Bò Huế is a soup version related to the Imperial city. The soup was a popular dish back to the first Emperors. Its origins are even linked to the royal kitchens. What makes Bún Bò Huế unique from its counterparts is the addition of lemongrass and fermented shrimp sauce. For a hotel, this wasn’t bad and hit the trick. It had the typical meatball, chunk of coagulated pork blood, and strips of thinly sliced beef. We would seek out one of the best bowls in the city tonight. But now, I had an Emperor to visit.
Heading Away From the City
As promised, the taxi driver from yesterday had a gentleman waiting for us at 8 am. So we loaded up our carriage for the day and headed out into the city. Old buildings lined the streets, and the morning was busy with the day’s traffic. We began to travel southwest away from Huế towards the surrounding mountains in the distance shortly after we came to a railroad crossing.
The crossing particularly caught my eye. All of the ones I’ve seen here, whether from a train or road, are all manually attended. Trains lumber very slowly through Vietnam. They are often going through tight neighborhood streets with the clearance of only a foot or two. The train tracks are manned pretty consistently through the cities and towns. Even in the most remote of places in the mountains, I would often see attendants trackside. As we approached the crossing, the attendants rolled the crossing gates through the streets by hand to block off traffic. And slowly, the lumbering train moved through the intersection.
The Burial City
After a scenic drive through the pastoral hillsides of north-central Vietnam, we arrived at the entrance to the burial city. The final resting place of the last great Emperor of the Nguyen Dynasty. I had only researched the city of Huế itself, and when we arrived, I had no idea where we were. A few little merchants selling hats, ice cream, and beverages were set up a distance from the entrance. But nothing to indicate what this place was or its purpose.
The taxi parked, and we stepped out into the growing heat. A small rolling gate blocked vehicle traffic at the beginning of a long stone pathway. The path was flanked by massive trees shading the way, and I could see a very Vietnamese-style gate off in the distance. We began walking down the path towards the Gate built in the massive wall that surrounded the city. I could see what looked like a larger gate to the left of the trail, maybe 100 yards away. Finally, we reached the Gate, where a small ticket booth sat as a guard. There was a price of admission to the site. So we paid and made our way inside the walled compound. A placard at the entrance marked this as the last resting site and burial city of Emperor Ming Mạng. I knew exactly who this was.
Minh Mạng
Born into War
Minh Mạng was born on May 25, 1791 as Nguyễn Phúc Đảm. It was a time of war and destruction across the land. His father, Lord Nguyễn Phúc Ánh, was in a power struggle to unify the warring feudal lords of Việt Nam. Lord Nguyễn Phúc Ánh is the very same man who helped begin France’s ascension in Indochina. He was the very boy who, at the age of 15, befriended the French Catholic priest Pigneau de Behaine. I wrote more about that in the post here. By 1802 Minh Mạng’s father, Lord Nguyễn Phúc Ánh, had unified the area comprising modern-day Vietnam for the first time in the region’s history. He established the Nguyễn dynasty and became Gia Long, the first Emperor of Vietnam. He controlled the land from China in the north to the Gulf of Siam in the south.
The Crown Prince
As the new Emperor lay the framework for the infant empire, his oldest son died of smallpox in the same unification, 1801. Nguyễn Phúc Cảnh, the heir to the new realm, was only 20 when he died but had lived a life unparalleled for his age and time. Nevertheless, his father never doubted his eventual success in conquering the region and had groomed the young prince since birth to be Emperor.
In 1785, at the age of five, he accompanied Father Pigneau de Béhaine to France. He is said to have “dazzled” King Louis the XVI and his court and befriended the King’s son Louise-Joseph. The famous French hairdresser of the day, Léonard, would cut his hair and create a cut after the young prince, “Au prince de Cochinchine.” He would even have his portrait painted by famous 18-century painter Maupérin. Which is still on display in the Séminaire des Missions Étrangères in Paris.
Upon his return to Vietnam in 1789, he would join his father on the battlefield. Always with Pigneau by his side. He had become a shrewd politician spending four years in European courts and had developed cunning skills on the battlefield. So it was no surprise to anyone that he was pronounced Crown Prince in 1793.
Pigneau’s End
Pigneau and prince Cảnh would wage campaigns on behalf of Gia Long for more than five years. However, Pigneau would ultimately succumb to dysentery on October 9, 1799, during the siege of Qui Nhơn. It would prove to be a significant blow, not only for the crown prince of Vietnam and his soon-to-be Emperor father. But also for the very future of Vietnam. It would bring to an end the era of peaceful relations between France and Vietnam.
Pigneau would be buried in Saigon on December 16, 1799. The testament to his deep friendship with the future Emperor and his son can be found in his funeral Proceedings. Given full military honors and buried in the crown prince’s presence, all government officials of the court, the royal bodyguards consisting of 12,000 men and over 40,000 mourners.
Funeral Orations
“(…) Pondering without end the memory of his virtues, I wish to honour him again with my kindness, his Highness Bishop Pierre, former special envoy of the kingdom of France mandated to obtain a sea-based and land-based military assistance sent by decree by warships, him, this eminent personality of the Occident received as a guest of honour at the court of Nam-Viet (…) Although he went to his own country to address a plea for help and rally the opinion in order to obtain military assistance, he was met with adverse conditions midway through his endeavour.
At that time, sharing my resentment, he decided to act like the men of old: we rather rallied together and outshone each other in the accomplishment of duty, looking for ways to take advantage of opportunities to launch operations (…) Everyday intervening constantly, many times he marvelously saved the situation with extraordinary plans. Although he was preoccupied with virtue, he did not lack humour. Our agreement was such that we always desired to be together (…) From the beginning to the end, we were but one heart (…)”
— Funeral oration of emperor Gia Long to Pigneau de Behaine, 8 December 1799.
“Alas! We had been so close for so many years, and we lived continuously amid war and troubles (…) You devoted yourself to recover the fortunes of Annam, and, as a consummate strategist, elaborated plans for the defeat of the enemy. The usages of our countries may be different, but our hearts weren’t, united as they were in the strongest of friendships.”
— Funerary oration of Prince Cảnh to Pigneau de Behaine, December 1799.[20]
The End of the Prince
The prince would quickly deteriorate after Pigneau’s death. Spending more time with Pigneau than his father, the prince took the loss unbearably. Pigneau had raised him as a catholic, though it was not common knowledge. Not even to Gia Long himself, the prince was never baptized due to fears it would incite violence against missionaries in Vietnam and set back years of missionary work. The prince would die less than two years later of smallpox. Thus potentially threatening the line of succession for the newly founded empire.
“When he lived with Master Vero (Pigneau), he was good, pious and religious. After the passing away of Master Vero, the Prince changed his character, involving himself more in sexual activities with women and drinking. He totally forsake religion. Only when he was near his death, he turned his thoughts to Jesus. He felt repentant and secretly asked a minor Mandarin to baptize him so as no one would ever know.”
— Vietnamese annals.
The Rise of Minh Mạng
Minh was the fourth son of Gia Long and his second wife. In typical situations, this would leave little chance of ascension. However, the dead prince had fathered children by this time, and it was assumed his oldest would take the throne. But it was not to be, and Pigneau’s death may give us a clue as to why. Though Gia Long was very tolerant of Pigneau’s Catholic beliefs, he was a staunch Confucianist. As a result, missionaries were allowed to operate in the open up to this point. But when it was discovered that the prince’s family had converted to Catholicism, his family was cut from the succession.
Gia Long respected his old friend’s belief, but he felt it could not shape the palace’s future. And so in 1816, Minh, then known as Nguyễn Phúc Đảm, was named the heir apparent. He immediately moved into the court and became his father’s student and assistant. Scholars believe that Gia Long made this choice due to Minh’s strong character, aversion to westerners, and strict adherence to Confucian ideology. Gia Long died on February 3, 1820, leaving the unassuming fourth son of a second wife Emperor of Việt Nam.
Entering the Burial City
As we passed through the entrance gate, a small booth stood off to the side. There are two options, an audio guide app or a personal tour guide for $5. I chose the guide, a young college student with incredible English skills. His name was Vu, and I think he was just as eager to practice his English as I was to hear all the great history. We began by walking towards the inner side of the Main Gate I saw on my way in.
The Structure of the City
Burial cities in Asia, especially those linked with the old Imperial China, are arranged as standard functional cities, built similar to the forbidden city in Beijing. The Main palace in Huế is also referred to as the forbidden city, but we will get to that later.
A Map of The Tomb Site
Below is a map I produced in Google’s My Maps. I hope it helps to put the layout into better perspective. You can reference it as you read. I’m pretty excited about this. I hope to incorporate more maps in future posts.
Dai Hong Mon
Inside the Main Gate is the main plaza entrance. A large courtyard leads in from the Main Gate. Its sides are flanked by rows of statues depicting Mandarin, horses, and elephants. A Mandarin in the Vietnamese imperial sense refers to an official of the court. Like the Confucian concepts in China, it was believed that the Emperors would continue their work in the afterlife. The statues are thought to represent actual beings who provided transportation and helped administer his new kingdom in the afterlife.
In addition to the statues were two dragon dogs popular in Vietnamese folklore. They flanked the top of the courtyard and protected the burial grounds. I struggled to get a viewable picture as they were ornately designed and had lost a piece or two in the centuries since they were carved. This forced them to be placed in glass cases, and I couldn’t get a non-glared image in the insanely intense sun. It is believed that they can sense people who are not virtuous, liars, cheaters, and the like. Therefore, they are said to pounce on and devour anyone unworthy who passes their pedestals.
Mount Phung Than
At the top of the central plaza sits the stele pavilion. The two terraces which the pavilion sits upon are referred to as mount Phung Than. And inside this pavilion sits the Stele of Minh Mang. A stele is a large single stone block that usually has information carved on it. Imperial steles tell the life story, family affairs, and accomplishments of the Emperor. Traditionally steles are only produced and written by the oldest son of the Emperor and usually heir. This is the case here as this Stele of the life of Emperor Minh Mang was written by his oldest son and successor, Thieu Tri.
I took some time to examine the Stele. Standing some 12 feet in height, the Stele was imposing and massive. It sat upon a very intricately carved table and must have taken many man-hours to complete. The Stele was written in Chữ Nôm, a character-based system developed from classical Chinese and used in Vietnam until the late 19 century. The text was small and almost invisible as it was not painted or altered. It blended in with the stone and beset against the beautiful wooden architecture of the rafters was a sight to behold.
Sung An Temple
Off the back of the stele pavilion is a long courtyard. A marble walkway extends to the gatehouse beyond. Terracotta tiled sections flank the marbled pathway on each side. The square rises by three levels, up to small three-step terraces to the next Gate. Beyond this Gate is the housing section and the Sung An Temple. Two houses flanked the courtyard in front of the Temple. These would be the houses of the Mandarins in the afterlife. The Sung An Temple, beset in the center of the housing complex, is the Emperor’s throne room in the afterlife. This is where he and his most beloved wife, Ta Thien Nhan, are worshipped.
Photography was not allowed in this building, as it was considered a sacred realm. Hats, shoes, and cameras were forbidden. Inside was a throne table and glass cases filled with artifacts from the day. Minh believed that Vietnam needed to modernize much like the Asian state of Japan to the northeast. He had sent emissaries to Europe to bring back items like tea and coffee pots, printing presses, and the like. He set his best engineers and scientists to work to reverse engineer the items and begin an industrial revolution in Southeast Asia. Unfortunately, though, after his death, his predecessor would abandon the idea. Behind the throne was a small table with seven wooden blocks carved in golden letters.
The Many Wives Of Minh Mạng
I say his most beloved wife because, well, let’s say he was a bit of a polygamist. Minh Mạng fathered over 142 children with over 100 concubines and wives. It is reported in royal documents that he had 43 official wives. A strange side note to all of this is what happened to his wives. When Emperor Minh died, his entire family entourage went to rest with him, living or dead unless they were fortunate enough to have bored him, sons.
The wives who had sons were allowed to end their days in the homes of their sons, and the new Emperor’s mother, in particular, lived her days out in the palace in Huế. However, the unfortunate wives who had no sons to live with were sealed in the burial city with Minh Mạng. The seven blocks on the table were the names of his seven most unfortunate wives who spent their remaining days together, locked away in the burial city until their deaths. I would have hated to be the last to go.
Housing For This Life and the Next
Past the Temple were two more houses on each side for the royal family. This would be the furthest anyone besides the King’s immediate family was permitted to reach. Though, of course, this is not enforced today, at the time of Minh, this would be the proverbial end of the road. This would also be where the unfortunate seven wives would finish their days. The thought of these wives wandering the courtyard in hopeless redundancy is almost haunting. I can’t help but think they may still yet roam these hallowed grounds in death.
Hoang Trach – The Emperor’s Gate
At the far end of the housing complex stood the Emperors’ Gate known as Hoang Trach. The Gate is part of a roughly eight-foot wall that surrounds the Emperor’s realm beyond the public spaces before. The Gate is constructed in the classical Vietnamese style and looks a thousand years old, yet it’s only 180. Beyond this Gate is a world built, maintained, and populated for the sole purpose of the Emperor’s happiness in the afterlife. I acquired as much information as possible, took my pictures, and then made my way through the Gate. I was taking a step into the history and culture of an all but forgotten empire.
Through the Gate, you descend another terrace to three stone bridges. The bridges cross a canal that links the two lakes, which flank the entire compound. The Emperor and only the Emperor would use the center bridge. All other royal family members would use the other two bridges and would have been separated by gender.
Minh Lau house – The Pavilion of Clarity
Beyond the canal lies the Emperor’s house, or Minh Lau the pavilion of clarity. It was built high upon three rampart-like terraces, representing the “three powers” the heavens, earth, and water. It would be where the Emperor would live, contemplate and rest in the afterlife. The house itself was beautifully constructed. It comprised two floors and eight roof sections to represent the pillars of eastern philosophy. Bright red trim work with gold accents, inlays, and multi-colored tile floors. It was very regal and beautiful.
A not so Stairway to Heaven
The staircase to the second floor, however, was a bit steep, almost unmanageable. My guide told me the entire story of why this was. First, steep and narrow stairs are difficult to navigate. Second, one would make a considerable noise clambering up such stairs. This would potentially alert the Emperor to rest in his room at the top. Finally, a trap door sits at the top of the stairs, which could be dropped into place and kept the intruders at bay until the Emperor could sound the alarm.
Secondly, the steep steps would force the Emperor to lean his head forward as he slowly ascended the staircase. This would be a reminder to pray as he rose to honor his ancestors. A reminder that though he may be Emperor, there is always someone to whom he must also bow his head. It was an exciting discussion as we walked through the house and stepped into the garden.
A Perfect World
Beyond the Emperor’s house lay a tiny world, made for him to exist in abundance, for all eternity. The garden contains not only beautiful ornamentals but also fruiting trees, bushes, and plants. Hidden within the trees to each side of the garden were massive stone obelisks topped with carved lotus flowers. The obelisks were said to emit light in the realm beyond, a beacon to the Emperor. Next to each obelisk sat another guardian of the kingdom. On the west obelisk the tiger, the symbol of the eastern compass point in Vietnamese tradition. He was representing the forest and its prowess in the mountain wilderness to the west. At the Eastern obelisk, the dragon. A symbol of water and a representation of the Eastern Sea that spreads endlessly to the west.
Beyond the garden lies the bridge of enlightenment. It divides the larger lake into two, kept stocked with fish for the Emperor’s fishing pleasure. In addition, there are several fishing pavilions around the lakes for the Emperor to enjoy. Surrounding the lakes are forested areas which deer and other game are kept for the Emperor’s hunting pleasure. I hope the Emperor never grows bored or hungry in his eternal resting place. It was a very beautiful area. I quietly, in respectful reflection, walked the grounds taking in the scene.
The Door of Enlightened Virtue
At the edge of the bridge of enlightenment sits the door of enlightened virtue. A massive bronze door frame, beautifully decorated with its original paint. There was an identical door on the other side, and the bridge marked the official boundary between the living world and the world beyond. It was believed that when you crossed the bridge over Trung Minh Ho Lake (Crystal clarity Lake), you entered the realm beyond the mortal plane. Beyond the bridge lay the final resting place of the Emperor himself. I had to get a closer look.
I walked across the bridge in the blistering heat and tried my best not to combust in the tropical sauna. The heat had mounted quickly, and Diem and the girls had retreated to the entrance for shade and ice cream when we reached the stele house. So It had been me and the guide for some time now, but I took plenty of pictures for Diem. It was hot, but the lake was beautiful. I had fallen in love with the lotus fields in the still ponds around Vietnam. There is nothing more iconic or Eastern in feel than a lotus-filled pond.
The Underground Palace
At the end of the bridge was the end of the road for me. The bridge terminated into a stone staircase that rose to a bronze gate that was locked with chains. The Gate was beset in a wall 3 meters or about 10 feet high and 285 meters, or roughly three football fields in length. The wall was a circle, and it sat on top of several terraces of concentric circles. These circles represent the heavenly bodies, and the King’s final resting place is at the center.
Somewhere through this Gate is a passage dug down into Huyen Cung, or the royal palace. The forbidden city of Minh Mạng. The Emperor was laid to rest in the underground court in 1841. Upon the completion of his burial ceremony, the underground passages were filled in and sealed off forever. The Gate I stand before was closed and locked, and the Emperor’s life and accomplishments faded away into the annals of history.
Why He’s the Last Great Emperor
He brought to close the Cham-Vietnamese war that had raged for centuries. Minh essentially forced the remaining Cham deep into Cambodian and Indonesian territories, and Minh’s Vietnam saw an era of peace not seen in the region before or after. However, he did also have a viciously ruthless side. The Cham Muslim leader Katip Suma had declared Jihad against Minh Mạng. Upon the culling of the jihad rebellion, Minh Mạng had the captured jihadists forcibly fed lizard and pig meat, and their Hindu allies were force-fed cow meat to punish them for their insolence.
He was also involved in more minor wars but managed through cunning diplomacy and formidable tactics to resist the threat of Napoleonic France. However, he did miss two opportunities to align himself with the young fledgling nation in the Americas. President Andrew Jackson twice sent emissaries to Vietnam to negotiate alliances, but both times were turned away.
The End of Independence
During his reign, Vietnam saw one of its most significant leaps forward in industrialization, modernization, and separation from old feudal ways. Though this was all negated upon his death. Shortly after Minh’s death, Napoleon would be deposed for the last time. France would again turn its eyes east. Battles with the French would begin during his son Thiệu Trị’s reign. And his grandson, Emperor Tự Đức, would sign away southern Vietnam to the French and set up Nguyen territory as a protectorate of French authority. Thus sealing the fate of Vietnam for the next 100 years.
Wandering Back
I had come to the end of the complex. What a wonderful experience it was. Vu was a fantastic guide, very informative, but the girls were waiting patiently, and I needed to return. So Vu and I meandered back towards the entrance and found the girls playing by the main lake under the shade trees. They were so cute in their matching dresses, and I, of course, was in matching colors as well.
Vu was nice enough to take our picture under the beautiful yellow blooms of the shade trees that lined the lake’s perimeter. It had been an incredible start to a sure-to-be great day. But we still had many sights to see and many more places to explore. Again, I thanked Vu for all his knowledge and time. We then headed out towards the taxi, which was patiently waiting in the shade for our return. Next, we would be off to visit the tomb of Khải Định, the last man to die as an Emperor. But that’s a story for another post.
Click Here for a post about Qui Nhon, which offers more history of The Champa and Vietnam.
