THE KING’S OATH--AN AUDIENCE
Leaving Wladivostok by the last Japanese steamer of the season, I
spent two days at Wön-san, little changed, except that its background
of mountains was snow-covered, that the Koreans were enriched by the
extravagant sums paid for labor by the Japanese during the war, that
business was active, and that Japanese sentries in wooden sentry-boxes
guarded the peaceful streets. Twelve thousand Japanese troops had
passed through Wön-san on their way to Phyöng-yang. At Fusan, my next
point, there were 200 Japanese soldiers, new waterworks, and a military
cemetery on a height, in which the number of graves showed an enormous
Japanese mortality.
Reaching Chemulpo on 5th January, 1895, _viâ_ Nagasaki, I found a
singular contrast to the crowd, bustle, and excitement of the previous
June. In the outer harbor there were two foreign warships only, in the
inner three Japanese merchant steamers. The former predominant military
element was represented by a few soldiers, ten large hospital sheds,
and a crowded cemetery, in which the Japanese military dead lie in rows
of 60, each grave marked by a wooden obelisk. The solid and crowded
Chinese quarter, with its roaring trade, large shops, and noise of
drums, gongs, and crackers, by day and night, was silent and deserted,
and not a single Chinese was in the street as I went up to I-tai’s inn.
One shop had ventured to reopen. At night, instead of throngs, noise,
lights, and jollification, there was a solitary glimmer from behind a
closed shutter. The Japanese occupation had been as destructive of that
quarter of Chemulpo as a mediæval pestilence.
In the Japanese quarter and all along the shore the utmost activity
prevailed. The beach was stacked with incoming and outgoing cargo. The
streets were only just passable, not alone from the enormous traffic on
bulls’ and coolies’ backs, but from the piles of beans and rice which
were being measured and packed on the roadway. Prices were high, wages
had more than doubled, “squeezing” was diminished, and the Koreans were
working with a will.
I went up to Seoul on horseback, snow falling the whole time. So safe
was the country that no escort was needed, and I rode as far as Oricol
without even a _mapu_. The halfway house of my first visit was a
Japanese post, and going to it in ignorance of the change, I was very
kindly received by the Japanese soldiers, who gave me tea and a brazier
of charcoal. The Seoul road, pegged out by Japanese surveyors for a
railroad, was thickly sprinkled for the whole distance with laden men
and bulls.
At Seoul I was the guest of Mr. Hillier, the British Consul-General,
for five weeks. The weather was glorious, and the mercury sank on
two occasions to 7° below zero, the lowest temperature on record. I
received the warmest welcome from the kindly foreign community, and was
steeped in Seoul life, the political and other interests growing upon
me daily; and having a pony and a soldier at my disposal, I saw the
city in all its turnings and windings, and the charming country outside
the gates, and several of the Royal tombs with their fine trees, and
avenues of stately stone figures.
The stagnation of the previous winter was at an end. Japan was in the
ascendant. She had a large garrison in the capital, some of the leading
men in the Cabinet were her nominees, her officers were drilling the
Korean army, changes, if not improvements, were everywhere, and the air
was thick with rumors of more to come. The King, whose Royal authority
was nominally restored to him, accepted the situation, the Queen was
credited with intriguing against the Japanese, but Count Inouye was
acting as Japanese minister, and his firmness and tact kept everything
smooth on the surface.
On the 8th of January, 1895, I witnessed a singular ceremony, which
may have far-reaching results in Korean history. The Japanese having
presented Korea with the gift of Independence, demanded that the King
should formally and publicly renounce the suzerainty of China, and
having resolved to cleanse the Augean stable of official corruption,
they compelled him to inaugurate the task by proceeding in semi-state
to the Altar of the Spirits of the Land, and there proclaiming Korean
independence, and swearing before the spirits of his ancestors to the
proposed reforms. His Majesty, by exaggerating a trivial ailment, had
for some time delayed a step which was very repulsive to him, and even
the day before the ceremony, a dream in which an Ancestral Spirit
had appeared to him adjuring him not to depart from ancestral ways,
terrified him from taking the proposed pledge.
But the spirit of Count Inouye proved more masterful than the Ancestral
Spirit, and the oath was taken in circumstances of great solemnity in a
dark pine wood, under the shadow of Puk Han, at the most sacred altar
in Korea, in presence of the Court and the dignitaries of the kingdom.
Old and serious men had fasted and mourned for two previous days, and
in the vast crowd of white-robed and black-hatted men which looked down
upon the striking scene from a hill in the grounds of the Mulberry
Palace, there was not a smile or a spoken word. The sky was dark and
grim, and a bitter east wind was blowing--ominous signs in Korean
estimation.
The Royal procession, which had something of the aspect of the
_kur-dong_, was shorn of the barbaric splendor which made that
ceremonial one of the most imposing in the Eastern world. It was, in
fact, barbaric with the splendor left out; and there were suggestions
of a new era and a forthcoming swamping wave of Western civilization,
in the presence within the Palace gates and in the procession of a
few trim, dapper, blue-ulstered Japanese policemen, as the special
protectors of the Home Minister Pak-Yöng-Ho, one of the revolutionaries
of 1884, against whom there was a vow of vengeance, though the King had
been compelled to pardon him, to reinstate his ancestors who had been
degraded, to recall him from exile, and to confer upon him high office.
The long road outside the Palace was lined with Korean cavalry, who
turned their faces to the wall and their backs and their ponies’ tails
to the King. Great numbers of Korean soldiers carrying various makes
of muskets, dressed in rusty black, brown, and blue cotton uniforms,
trousers sometimes a foot too short, at others a foot too long, white
wadded socks, string shoes, and black felt hats of Tyrolese style, with
pink ribbon round the crowns, stood in awkward huddles, mixed up with
the newly-created Seoul police in blue European uniforms, and a number
of handsome overfed ponies of Court officials, with saddles over a foot
high, gorgeous barbaric trappings, red pompons on their heads, and a
flow of red manes. The populace stood without speech or movement.
After a long delay and much speculation as to whether the King at
the last moment would resist the foreign pressure, the procession
emerged from the Palace gate--huge flags on trident-headed poles,
purple bundles carried aloft, a stand of stones conveyed with much
ceremony[34]--groups of scarlet- and blue-robed men in hats of the
same colors, shaped like fools’ caps, the King’s personal servants in
yellow robes and yellow bamboo hats, and men carrying bannerets. Then
came the red silk umbrella, followed not by the magnificent State chair
with its forty bearers, but by a plain wooden chair with glass sides,
in which sat the sovereign, pale and dejected, borne by only four men.
The Crown Prince followed in a similar chair. Mandarins, ministers,
and military officers were then assisted to mount their caparisoned
ponies, and each, with two attendants holding his stirrups and two
more leading his pony, fell in behind the Home Minister, riding a dark
donkey, and rendered conspicuous by his foreign saddle and foreign
guard. When the procession reached the sacred enclosure, the military
escort and the greater part of the cavalcade remained outside the wall,
only the King, dignitaries, and principal attendants proceeding to the
altar. The grouping of the scarlet-robed men under the dark pines was
most effective from an artistic point of view, and from a political
standpoint the taking of the following oath by the Korean King was one
of the most significant acts in the tedious drama of the late war.
[Illustration: KOREAN THRONE.]
THE KING’S OATH.
On this 12th day of the 12th moon of the 503rd year of the founding
of the Dynasty, we presume to announce clearly to the Spirits of
all our Sacred Imperial Ancestors that we, their lowly descendant,
received in early childhood, now thirty and one years ago, the mighty
heritage of our ancestors, and that in reverent awe towards Heaven,
and following in the rule and pattern of our ancestors, we, though we
have encountered many troubles, have not loosed hold of the thread.
How dare we, your lowly descendant, aver that we are acceptable to
the heart of Heaven? It is only that our ancestors have graciously
looked down upon us and benignly protected us. Splendidly did our
ancestor lay the foundation of our Royal House, opening a way for us
his descendants through five hundred years and three. Now, in our
generation, the times are mightily changed, and men and matters are
expanding. A friendly Power, designing to prove faithful, and the
deliberations of our Council aiding thereto, show that only as an
independent ruler can we make our country strong. How can we, your
lowly descendant, not conform to the spirit of the time and thus guard
the domain bequeathed by our ancestors? How venture not to strenuously
exert ourselves and stiffen and anneal us in order to add lustre
to the virtues of our predecessors. For all time from now no other
State will we lean upon, but will make broad the steps of our country
towards prosperity, building up the happiness of our people in order
to strengthen the foundations of our independence. When we ponder on
this course, let there be no sticking in the old ways, no practice of
ease or of dalliance; but docilely let us carry out the great designs
of our ancestors, watching and observing sublunary conditions,
reforming our internal administration, remedying there accumulated
abuses.
We, your lowly descendant, do now take the fourteen clauses of the
Great Charter and swear before the Spirits of our Ancestors in
Heaven that we, reverently trusting in the merits bequeathed by our
ancestors, will bring these to a successful issue, nor will we dare to
go back on our word. Do you, bright Spirits, descend and behold!
1. All thoughts of dependence on China shall be cut away, and a firm
foundation for independence secured.
2. A rule and ordinance for the Royal House shall be established, in
order to make clear the line of succession and precedence among the
Royal family.
3. The King shall attend at the Great Hall for the inspection of
affairs, where, after personally interrogating his Ministers, he shall
decide upon matters of State. The Queen and the Royal family are not
allowed to interfere.
4. Palace matters and the government of the country must be kept
separate, and may not be mixed up together.
5. The duties and powers of the Cabinet and of the various Ministers
shall be clearly defined.
6. The payment of taxes by the people shall be regulated by law.
Wrongful additions may not be made to the list, and no excess
collected.
7. The assessment and collection of the land tax, and the disbursement
of expenditure, shall be under the charge and control of the Finance
Department.
8. The expenses of the Royal household shall be the first to be
reduced, by way of setting an example to the various Ministries and
local officials.
9. An estimate shall be drawn up in advance each year of the
expenditure of the Royal household and the various official
establishments, putting on a firm foundation the management of the
revenue.
10. The regulations of the local officers must be revised in order to
discriminate the functions of the local officials.
11. Young men of intelligence in the country shall be sent abroad in
order to study foreign science and industries.
12. The instruction of army officers, and the practice of the methods
of enlistment, to secure the foundation of a military system.
13. Civil law and criminal law must be strictly and clearly laid down;
none must be imprisoned or fined in excess, so that security of life
and property may be ensured for all alike.
14. Men shall be employed without regard to their origin, and in
seeking for officials recourse shall be had to capital and country
alike in order to widen the avenues for ability.
Official translation of the text of the oath taken by His Majesty the
King of Korea, at the Altar of Heaven, Seoul, on January 8, 1895.
Though at this date Korea is being reformed under other than Japanese
auspices, it is noteworthy that nearly every step in advance is on the
lines laid down by Japan.
Count Inouye is reported by the _Nichi Nichi Shimbun_ to have said
regarding Korea, “In my eyes there were only the Royal Family and the
nation.” Such a conclusion was legitimate in the early part of 1895,
and in arriving at it as I did I am glad to be sheltered by such an
unexceptionable authority.
Hence it was with real pleasure that I received an invitation from
the Queen to a private audience, to which I was accompanied by Mrs.
Underwood, an American medical missionary and the Queen’s physician
and valued friend. Mr. Hillier sent me to the Kyeng-pok Palace in an
eight-bearer official chair, escorted by the Korean Legation Guard.
I have been altogether six times at this palace, and always with
increased wonder at its intricacy, and admiration of its quaintness and
beauty.
Entering by a grand three-arched gateway with its stone-balustraded
stone staircase, and stone lions on stone pedestals below, one
is bewildered by the number of large flagged courtyards, huge
audience-halls, pavilions, buildings of all descriptions more or less
decorated, stone bridges, narrow passages, and gateways with double
tiered carved roofs through and among which one passes. A Japanese
policeman was at the grand gate. At each of the interior gates, and
there are many, there were six Korean sentries lounging, who pulled
themselves together as we approached and presented arms! What with 800
troops, 1,500 attendants and officials of all descriptions, courtiers
and ministers and their attendants, secretaries, messengers, and
hangers-on, the vast enclosure of the Palace seemed as crowded and
populated as the city itself. We had nearly half a mile of buildings
to pass through before we reached a very pretty artificial lake with
a decorative island pavilion in the centre, near which are a foreign
palace, built not long before, and the simple Korean buildings then
occupied by the King and Queen. Alighting at the gateway of the
courtyard which led to the Queen’s house, we were received by the Court
interpreter, a number of eunuchs, two of the Queen’s ladies-in-waiting,
and her nurse, who was at the head of the Palace ladies--a very
privileged person, middle-aged, with decidedly fine features.
In a simple room hung with yellow silk we were entertained in courteous
fashion with coffee and cake on arriving, and afterwards at dinner,
the nurse, “supported” by the Court interpreter, taking the head of
the very prettily decorated table. The dinner was admirably cooked in
“foreign style,” and included soup, fish, quails, wild duck, pheasant,
stuffed and rolled beef, vegetables, creams, glacé walnuts, fruit,
claret, and coffee. Several of the Court ladies and others sat at table
with us. After this long delay we were ushered, accompanied only by
the interpreter, into a small audience-room, upon the dais at one end
of which stood the King, the Crown Prince, and the Queen in front of
three crimson velvet chairs, which, after Mrs. Underwood had presented
me, they resumed and asked us to be seated on two chairs which were
provided.
Her Majesty, who was then past forty, was a very nice-looking slender
woman, with glossy raven-black hair and a very pale skin, the pallor
enhanced by the use of pearl powder. The eyes were cold and keen, and
the general expression one of brilliant intelligence. She wore a very
handsome, very full, and very long skirt of mazarine blue brocade,
heavily pleated, With the waist under the arms, and a full sleeved
bodice of crimson and blue brocade, clasped at the throat by a coral
rosette, and girdled by six crimson and blue cords, each one clasped
with a coral rosette, with a crimson silk tassel hanging from it. Her
head-dress was a crownless black silk cap edged with fur, pointed over
the brow, with a coral rose and full red tassel in front, and jewelled
aigrettes on either side. Her shoes were of the same brocade as her
dress. As soon as she began to speak, and especially when she became
interested in conversation, her face lighted up into something very
like beauty.
The King is short and sallow, certainly a plain man, wearing a thin
moustache and a tuft on the chin. He is nervous and twitches his hands,
but his pose and manner are not without dignity. His face is pleasing,
and his kindliness of nature is well-known. In conversation the Queen
prompted him a good deal. He and the Crown Prince were dressed alike
in white leather shoes, wadded silk socks, and voluminous wadded white
trousers. Over these they wore first, white silk tunics, next pale
green ones, and over all sleeveless dresses of mazarine blue brocade.
The whole costume, being exquisitively fresh, was pleasing. On their
heads they wore hats and _mung-huns_ of very fine horsehair gauze, with
black silk hoods bordered with fur, for the mercury stood at 5° below
zero. The Crown Prince is fat and flabby, and though unfortunately
very near-sighted, etiquette forbids him to wear spectacles, and at
that time he produced on every one as on me the impression of being
completely an invalid. He was the only son and the idol of his mother,
who lived in ceaseless anxiety about his health, and in dread lest the
son of a concubine should be declared heir to the throne. To this cause
must be attributed several of her unscrupulous acts, her invoking the
continual aid of sorcerers, and her always increasing benefactions to
the Buddhist monks. During much of the audience mother and son sat with
clasped hands.
After the Queen had said many kind things to me personally, showing
herself quick-witted as well as courteous, she said something to
the King, who immediately took up the conversation and continued it
for another half-hour. At the close of the audience I asked leave to
photograph the Lake Pavilion, and the King said, “Why that alone?
come many days and photograph many things,” mentioning several;
and he added, “I should like you to be suitably attended.” We then
curtseyed ourselves out, after a very agreeable and interesting hour,
and as it was dusk, the King sent soldiers with us, and a number of
lantern-bearers, with floating drapery of red and green silk gauze.
Two days later the “suitable attendance” turned out to be an unwieldy
and embarrassing crowd, consisting of five military officers, half a
regiment of soldiers, and a number of Palace attendants! I was greatly
impressed by a certain grandeur and stateliness in the buildings, the
vast Hall of Audience resting on a much elevated terrace ascended by a
triple flight of granite stairs, the noble proportions of the building,
the richly carved ceiling with its manifold reticulations, painted red,
blue, and green, the colossal circular pillars, red with white bases,
and in the dimness of the vast area fronting the entrance, the shadowy
splendor of the Korean throne. Grand, too, in its simplicity and
solidity, is the Summer Palace or “Hall of Congratulations,” on a stone
platform approached by three granite bridges, in a lotus lake of oblong
form beautified conventionally with two stone-faced islands, and by a
broad flagged promenade carried the whole way round it on a stone-faced
embankment. This palace is a noble building. The upper hall, with its
vast sweeping roof, is supported on forty-eight granite pillars 16 feet
in height and 3 feet square at the base-all monoliths. The situation
and the views are beautiful.
[Illustration: SUMMER PAVILION, OR “HALL OF CONGRATULATIONS.”]
During the next three weeks I had three more audiences, on the second
being accompanied as before by Mrs. Underwood, the third being a formal
reception, and the fourth a strictly private interview, lasting over an
hour. On each occasion I was impressed with the grace and charming
manner of the Queen, her thoughtful kindness, her singular intelligence
and force, and her remarkable conversational power even through
the medium of an interpreter. I was not surprised at her singular
political influence, or her sway over the King and many others. She
was surrounded by enemies, chief among them being the Tai-Won-Kun, the
King’s father, all embittered against her because by her talent and
force she had succeeded in placing members of her family in nearly all
the chief offices of State. Her life was a battle. She fought with all
her charm, shrewdness, and sagacity for power, for the dignity and
safety of her husband and son, and for the downfall of the Tai-Won-Kun.
She had cut short many lives, but in doing so she had not violated
Korean tradition and custom, and some excuse for her lies in the fact
that soon after the King’s accession his father sent to the house of
Her Majesty’s brother an infernal machine in the shape of a beautiful
box, which on being opened exploded, killing her mother, brother, and
nephew, as well as some others. Since then he plotted against her own
life, and the feud between them was usually at fever heat.
The dynasty is worn out, and the King, with all his amiability and
kindness of heart, is weak in character and is at the mercy of
designing men, as has appeared increasingly since the strong sway of
the Queen was withdrawn. I believe him to be at heart, according to
his lights, a patriotic sovereign. Far from standing in the way of
reform, he has accepted most of the suggestions offered to him. But
unfortunately for a man whose edicts become the law of the land, and
more unfortunately for the land, he is persuadable by the last person
who gets his ear, he lacks backbone and tenacity of purpose, and many
of the best projects of reform become abortive through his weakness
of will. To substitute constitutional restraints for absolutism would
greatly mend matters, but _cela va sans dire_ this could only be
successful under foreign initiative.
The King was forty-three, the Queen a little older. During his
minority, and while he was receiving the usual Chinese education, his
father, the Tai-Won-Kun, who is described by a Korean writer as having
“bowels of iron and a heart of stone,” ruled as Regent with excessive
vigor for ten years, and in 1866 put 2,000 Korean Catholics to death.
Able, rapacious, and unscrupulous, his footsteps have always been
blood-stained. He even put to death one of his own sons. From the time
when his Regency ceased until the murder of the Queen, Korean political
history is mainly the story of the deadly feud between the Queen and
her clan and the Tai-Won-Kun. I was presented to him at the Palace, and
was much impressed by the vitality and energy of his expression, his
keen glance, and the vigor of his movements, though he is an old man.
The King’s expression is gentle. He has a wonderful memory, and is
said to know Korean history so well that when any question as to fact
or former custom arises he can give full particulars, with a precise
reference to the reign in which any historic event occurred and to
the date. The office of Royal Reader is not a sinecure, and the Royal
Library, which is contained in one of the most beautiful buildings of
the Kyeng-pok Palace, is a very extensive one in Chinese literature. He
has no anti-foreign feeling. His friendliness to foreigners is marked,
and in his manifold perils he has frankly relied upon their aid. At
the time of my second visit, when Japan was in the ascendant, the King
and Queen showed special attention and kindness to Europeans, and even
invited the whole foreign community to a skating party on the lake.
The King’s attitude towards Christian Missions is very friendly, and
toleration is a reality. The American medical attendants of both the
King and Queen, as well as other foreigners, with whom they were in
constant contact, were warmly attached to them, and I think that the
general feeling among Koreans is one of affectionate loyalty, the blame
for oppressive and mistaken actions being laid on the ministers.
[Illustration: ROYAL LIBRARY, KYENG-POK PALACE.]
I have dwelt so long on the King’s personality because he is _de facto_
the Korean Government, and not a mere figure-head, as there is no
constitution, written or unwritten, no representative assembly, and
it may be said no law except his published Edicts. He is extremely
industrious as a ruler, acquaints himself with all the work of
departments, receives and attends to an infinity of reports and
memorials, and concerns himself with all that is done in the name of
Government. It is often said that in close attention to detail he
undertakes more than any one man could perform. At the same time he
has not the capacity for getting a general grip of affairs. He has so
much goodness of heart and so much sympathy with progressive ideas,
that if he had more force of character and intellect, and were less
easily swayed by unworthy men, he might make a good sovereign, but his
weakness of character is fatal.
The subjects of conversation introduced at three of my audiences
not only showed an intelligent desire for such information as might
be serviceable, but reflected the reforms which the Japanese were
pressing on the King. I was very closely questioned as to what I had
seen of China and Siberia, as to the Siberian and Japanese railroads,
cost of construction per _li_, as to the popular feeling in Japan
concerning the war, etc. Again I was catechised as to the avenues to
official employment in England, the possibility of men “not of the
noble class” reaching high positions in the Government, the position of
the English nobility with regard to “privileges,” and their attitude
to inferiors. On one day the whole attention of the King and Queen
was concentrated on the relations between the English Crown and the
Cabinet, specially with regard to the Civil List, on which the King’s
questions were so numerous and persistent as very nearly to pose me. He
was specially anxious to know if the “Finance Minister” (the Chancellor
of the Exchequer, I suppose) exercised any control over the personal
expenditure of Her Majesty, and if the Queen’s personal accounts were
paid by herself or through the Treasury. The affairs under the control
of each Secretary of State were the subject of another series of
questions.
Many queries were about the duties of the Home Minister, the position
of the Premier, and his relations with the other Ministers and the
Crown. He was very anxious to know if the Queen could dismiss her
Ministers if they failed to carry out her wishes, and it was impossible
to explain to him through an interpreter, to whom the ideas were
unfamiliar, the constitutional checks on the English Crown, and that
the sovereign only nominally possesses the right of choosing her
Ministers.
Just before I left Korea, I was summoned to a farewell audience,
and asked to take the Legation interpreter with me. I went in an
eight-bearer chair, and was received with the usual honors, soldiers
presenting arms, etc! There was no crowd of attendants and no delay.
As I was being escorted down a closed veranda by several eunuchs
and military officers, a sliding window was opened by the King, who
beckoned to me to enter, and then closed it. I found myself in the
raised alcove in which the Royal Family usually sat, but the sliding
panels between it and the audience-chamber were closed, and as it is
not more than 6 feet wide, it was impossible to make the customary
profound curtseys. Instead of the usual throng of attendants, eunuchs,
ladies-in-waiting in silk gowns a yard too long for them, and heavy
coils and pillows of artificial hair on their heads, and privileged
persons standing behind the King and Queen and crowding the many
doorways, there were present only the Queen’s nurse and my interpreter,
who stood at a chink between the panels where he could not see the
Queen, bent into an attitude of abject reverence, never lifting
his eyes from the ground or raising his voice above a whisper. The
precautions, however, failed to secure the privacy which the King and
Queen desired. I was certain that through the chink I saw the shadow
of a man in the audience-room, and the interpreter’s subsequent
remark, “It was very hard for me to interpret for His Majesty to-day”
was intelligible when I heard that the “shadow” belonged to one of the
Ministers of State specially distrusted by the King, and who later
had to fly from Korea. It was understood that this person carried the
substance of what the King and Queen said to a foreign legation.
I cannot here allude to the matter on which the King spoke, but the
audience, which lasted for an hour, was an extremely interesting one.
On one point the King expressed himself very strongly, as he has
done to many others. He considers that now that Korea is formally
independent of China, she is entitled to a Resident Minister accredited
solely to the Korean Court. He expressed great regard and esteem for
Mr. Hillier, and said that nothing would be more acceptable to him than
his appointment as the first Minister to Korea.
The Queen spoke of Queen Victoria, and said, “She has everything that
she can wish--greatness, wealth, and power. Her sons and grandsons are
kings and emperors, and her daughters empresses. Does she ever in her
glory think of poor Korea? She does so much good in the world, her life
is a good. We wish her long life and prosperity”; to which the King
added, “England is our best friend.” It was really touching to hear the
occupants of that ancient but shaky throne speaking in this fashion.
On this occasion the Queen was dressed in a bodice of brocaded amber
satin, a mazarine blue brocaded trained skirt, a crimson girdle with
five clasps and tassels of coral, and a coral clasp at the throat. Her
head was uncovered, and her abundant black hair gathered into a knot
at the back. She wore no ornament except a pearl and coral jewel on
the top of the head. The King and Queen rose when I took leave, and
the Queen shook hands. They both spoke most kindly, and expressed the
wish that I should return and see more of Korea. When I did return nine
months later, the Queen had been barbarously murdered, and the King
was practically a prisoner in his own palace.
Travellers received by the Korean King have often ridiculed the
audience, the surroundings, and the Palace. I must say that I saw
nothing to ridicule, unless national customs and etiquette varying
from our own are necessarily ridiculous. On the contrary, there were
a simplicity, dignity, kindliness, courtesy, and propriety which have
left a very agreeable impression on me, and my four audiences at Palace
were the great feature of my second visit to Korea.
[Illustration: KOREAN GENTLEMAN IN COURT DRESS.]
FOOTNOTES:
[34] These are ancient musical instruments called by the Chinese
_ch’ing_, and were in use at courts in the days of Confucius.