Explore the Huai Army Headquarters!

Strolling through Baoding’s Huai Army Headquarters: When the Elegance of Jiangnan Meets the Solidity of the North In the southwest corner of Baoding’s ancient city, deep within an inconspicuous alley, lies an unexpected architectural complex. The gate is unassuming, built of gray bricks, as plain as an ordinary residence. But once you step over the threshold, the scene before you is bewildering—are you really in the North, or have you somehow arrived in Jiangnan? This complex was built during the Guangxu period of the late Qing Dynasty, commissioned by a minister governing Zhili at the time. It took four years to complete and cost over fifty thousand taels of silver. Upon entering, a wide alley divides the courtyard into two, like an invisible boundary separating two completely different architectural styles from the South and the North. On the south side are clusters of Hui-style buildings with white walls and black tiles, layered horse-head walls rising high and staggered, courtyards bathed in square patches of light, and exquisitely carved woodwork exuding the elegance and delicacy of Jiangnan. On the north side stands the familiar Northern-style siheyuan (courtyard houses) with blue bricks and gray tiles, spacious and square courtyards, thick and simple eaves, and window patterns embodying the steadiness and grandeur of the North. The two styles stand just a few steps apart, separated by a single alley, yet like two worlds—Jiangnan’s grace traveling thousands of miles to meet the North’s weightiness, blending seamlessly without discord. The entire complex covers a vast area, including twelve courtyards and over a hundred rooms, arranged along a central axis with a rigorous yet lively layout. But what truly gives this complex its soul is the hidden theater. Passing through multiple courtyards and opening a door, the view suddenly opens up. A magnificent two-story theater rises nearly ten meters high, covering almost a thousand square meters, surrounded by two levels of balconies. The first floor is an open stage, while the second floor features private boxes with partitions. This is the largest surviving enclosed Qing Dynasty theater in China and the only one of its kind nationwide. The most astonishing feature is the coffered ceiling at the top of the theater. It is hemispherical, made of 3,800 wooden components stacked layer upon layer using mortise and tenon joints without a single nail. Spiraling down from the top, it is exquisitely crafted and known as the “chicken coop ceiling.” At the center of the ceiling is a carving of two dragons playing with a pearl, resplendent in gold and blue. Despite weathering over a century, its former grandeur is still visible. Even more remarkable, this spiral structure gathers sound from the stage and reflects it to every corner of the theater. It is said that no matter where one sat, every word on stage could be heard clearly—a perfect fusion of architecture and acoustics. Standing before the stage, the four corner pillars are original, with wooden beams carved with flowers, birds, and animals. The screens feature delicate openwork carvings, the saddle-shaped rafters bear exquisite patterns, and traces of gold leaf and colorful mother-of-pearl inlay faintly shimmer. Closing your eyes, you can almost hear the strings and woodwinds and the applause from a hundred years ago. It is poignant that such a complex was forgotten for a long time. After the founding of the People’s Republic of China, it was used as staff dormitories and a crowded residential compound, housing nearly two hundred families at its peak. The historic buildings were severely encroached upon and altered, falling into disrepair. Only a few years ago, after years of large-scale restoration, it was reborn. Today, the complex looks brand new, yet the remaining weathered marks are still within reach. Leaving the theater, you can circle around to the Xiangtang Hall and Zhaozhong Shrine at the back. The main hall is spacious and bright, with a pair of vertical flower-and-moon gates on the east and west sides, topped by wooden carved gate towers. The upturned eaves resemble giant birds spreading their wings, covered with delicate gray barrel tiles. Several stone steles are embedded in the courtyard, their inscriptions faint but legible—some recounting the origin of the buildings, others listing donors and posthumous regulations. Though blurred, every word carries the spirit of that era. Wandering through this complex, from south to north, from the central axis to the side courtyards, every detail—the square bricks underfoot, the beams overhead, the brick carvings on the walls—tells the story of southern and northern craftsmen competing in ingenuity over a hundred years ago. Stepping out the gate and back into the alley, it feels like stepping through time—the gray bricks and black tiles still vivid, while inside and outside the alley, more than 130 years seem to separate two worlds.