Seoul
Unlike Venice, Seoul should not be approached after dark, but we arrived
late at night, and drove in rickshas through ill-lighted streets and
over endless stones to our destination, Miss Finder’s rest-house for
missionaries, excellently situated in the upper part of the town.
With morning light we received a different and beautiful impression of
the town. It is encircled within lofty hills of granite that change
in colour at different times of day from gold and steel to deep blue.
Formerly high walls surrounded it, pierced by noble gateways, but these
walls are rapidly disappearing to form material for building Japanese
houses of truly Philistine ugliness. Every day sees new and deplorable
changes in the way of picturesqueness, and one is tempted to say that
even sanitation may be too dearly bought.
We started on a lovely spring morning to visit the old palace, which,
subject to certain rules, is now thrown open to the public at a small
charge. The first rule is that visitors must be respectably dressed, the
next that they must not catch birds or fish, and so on. The Imperial
Palace covers a large area of ground, and is surrounded by lofty walls,
in which there are eight or ten doorways, surmounted by the typical
curved and tiled roofs. It looks like a small walled town, and used to
contain some 3000 persons. The main entrance to the palace is at the end
of a wide thoroughfare, adorned with fine stone animals on pedestals,
and flanked by official buildings on each side, which, alas, are being
pulled down to be replaced by Japanese buildings. This thoroughfare was
a gay and busy scene. The Korean dress is eminently picturesque, and
many of the women wear brilliant cloaks of lettuce or apple green with
scarlet streamers; this cloak depends from the crown of the head to below
the knees; the sleeves are never used, nor indeed could they be used, as
the space for the neck is filled in with a piece of white material which
acts as a cap and raises the coat several inches above the proper height.
This strange garment is said to have been originally a man’s coat, and
the wives used to wear it (as so many Eastern women do) to conceal their
figures in the streets. It certainly adds a most charming note of colour
to the streets of Seoul. The ordinary dress of the women is entirely
white; it consists of a short coat, baggy trousers, and large pleated
apron completely enclosing them and acting as a skirt. The lower class
women are not careful to prevent there being a gap between the upper and
lower garments; as they seem to be always nursing a baby, they no doubt
think the costume was devised to suit that purpose. My sketch shows the
dress with the addition of the winter cap.
[Illustration: KOREAN WOMAN]
On passing from the square into the precincts of the palace by the
main gateway you have a vision of harmony in green; a delicate, subtle
blending of greens in courtyard buildings, and pine-trees behind them,
while the range of hills towers in the background. A beautiful bridge
spans a sort of moat, over which grotesque stone creatures lean towards
the water as if about to plunge into it. On the right there is an
entrance to an open space of ground where the Japanese are erecting a
boys’ school. This is a hard blow to Korean pride, but unfortunately our
Japanese allies are apparently reckless of such details, and instead
of trying to make their protectorate as conciliatory as possible, they
too often do the reverse; indeed it is only in rare instances that they
seem to do otherwise. In many ways they are doing a great deal which
should benefit the country, but in such a manner as to make it thoroughly
obnoxious. It is of little use to repudiate the idea of annexation,
when they trample on the dearest wishes of the Korean, and treat him as
a vanquished foe. From this courtyard one passes into others where the
sewing women used to live, for there are numbers of courts surrounded
by houses varying in size and importance, but all of them in a state of
decay.
The palace is the most beautiful and cherished spot in the capital, and
it is sad to see it falling to pieces with alarming rapidity, while the
part inhabited by the Empress was absolutely destroyed and its very
stones used in the construction of other buildings.
The great audience chamber is a glorious colour study in green, Venetian
red, gold, and blue, with lofty pillars stretching up to the ornate roof,
which culminates in a centrepiece of gold dragons, somewhat different
in design from the Chinese dragon. Although it is only one storey, the
roof has been so built so as to give it a great appearance of height.
All round the hall are latticed windows, which could be set open for
large audiences. The hall is surrounded on three sides by a fine large
paved court, through the centre of which runs a double line of stones
like milestones; they mark the places where the courtiers used to stand
according to their rank when waiting their turn for audience on state
occasions.
Court beyond court the palace stretches to the Emperor’s private
apartments, which were more modest in size than the public halls.
The Emperor used to rise about noon, so the morning hours were quite
quiet, no unnecessary labour being permitted. The imperial réveillé was
announced by a roll of drums, summoning all courtiers, physicians, and
attendants to be in readiness for his Majesty’s appearance. Then the
courts became thronged like a busy hive of bees; the courtiers got out
of their chairs at the entrance, and were only allowed to bring in one
or two attendants, while the remainder of their retinue waited outside.
The court dress consists of a beautiful myrtle green coat, a square
breastplate (betokening the official rank) fastened on by a thick belt
standing out several inches from the body, black velvet top-boots with
white soles, and a peculiar tall black cap made of horsehair, with ears
of the same material standing out on each side of it. This costume forms
the design on the cover of the book, and it was a Korean gentleman who
kindly gave me the opportunity of sketching it. This costume was also
worn by eunuchs when on duty in the palace. As in China, eunuchs have
played a sorry part in the political game in Korea.
The ordinary business of the court used to be transacted during the
afternoon. Sometimes one of the ministers of the foreign legations would
be received in audience by his Majesty, and sometimes there would be
a special function with regard to ancestral worship. Once a year the
Emperor would go to a certain field outside Seoul (which was pointed out
to us near the east gate of the city) to plough the first furrow of the
year.
After sundown the gates of the palace were shut and barred, and no one
might go in or out without special permission of the Emperor. During
the night state business was transacted, and not only was his Majesty
informed of matters of importance, but he was also entertained with the
small talk of the palace. There were always one or two Ministers of State
on duty throughout the night, and they left the palace at daybreak, when
the Emperor retired to rest.
To the left of the Emperor’s private apartments there is a gateway
leading out into a place of delight, a large walled garden containing
a spacious open summer-house surrounded by water. It is on a stone
platform, and consists of two storeys, supported on handsome pillars and
devoid of walls. The roof was of the usual Chinese type, with overhanging
eaves enriched with carvings painted blue, green, and gold, contrasting
finely with the Venetian red of the balcony and ceilings. A flight of
steps leads down from it to the pond which is full of lotus blossoms,
below which gold fish may be discerned in peaceful security. Here again
the hand of time is heavy, walls are falling down, steps dropping
asunder, and the brickwork beginning to crumble at the present time. It
is only used for Japanese garden parties, and one would fain hope that
the Japanese love of beauty will conquer prejudice sufficiently to save
it from the ravages of time and neglect before it is too late. Beautiful
pine-trees and hills form a worthy setting to this jewel.
The Dowager Empress Hong had her own residence and separate establishment
in the rear of this part of the palace, where she was frequently visited
by the Emperor, usually accompanied by the Crown Prince. In Korea it is
considered the duty of every son, or adopted son, to visit his mother
daily. Every afternoon the Dowager Empress sent two or three of her
ladies-in-waiting to present her compliments to his Majesty, and to
inquire after his health. The ladies who were sent on this errand had
to wear some additional garment for the purpose, or to have their hair
dressed over an immense frame. The residence of the Dowager Empress was
enclosed within high walls, and the entrance gate was hung with dark
blue cloth, ornamented with balls of white cotton wool, so that when the
gates were open no one should be able to see into the courtyard. Two of
the palace police, men of superior position to the city police, were
stationed as guards outside the gates. After the death of the Empress
Min, the Crown Prince occupied the same residence as the Emperor, and
they were rarely separated from one another. During the Russo-Japanese
war it was reported by some of the war correspondents that the Emperor
had married the daughter of an American missionary, and that she was
called the Empress Emily Brown. As this story obtained a certain amount
of credence in America I am glad to be able to state publicly that there
was not a word of truth in the rumour. The Emperor was devoted to the
memory of the Empress Min, and has not married again. For this and the
other details of palace life I am indebted to a friend who was at that
time closely connected with the court, and who continued so for many
years afterwards.
The Crown Princess had her own house and establishment like the Dowager
Empress, but on a smaller scale. Every afternoon she went to pay her
respects to the Emperor, attended by her ladies-in-waiting and eunuchs,
and they might not leave the royal presence until dismissed. This custom
was not confined to royalty, but in the Korean nobility etiquette
demands that daughters should pay their respects to fathers, and
daughters-in-law to their fathers-in-law, and that they should remain
standing until dismissed or asked to sit down. According to the usual
custom in the East the wives of the sons live in the same compound as the
father, frequently in the same building as his wife and daughters, so the
carrying out of this custom is a simple matter.
It may be of interest to know some details of the life of the women in
an eastern palace. They come into the palace as children of nine or ten
years old, bright, good-looking (the Korean ideal of beauty is very
different from ours), and intelligent girls. They are trained by other
girls a year or two older than themselves, each for her own department.
As soon as the children enter service the pigtail of childhood is
abandoned, and the hair is dressed in a knot, resting on the nape of the
neck. This signifies marriage in the case of all other Korean maidens;
but marriage is prohibited in the case of those who enter service in the
palace, although it is admittedly the duty of every woman. The girls are
dressed in white silk jackets and long mazarine blue silk skirts. The
little ones are sometimes allowed to wear pink or yellow silk jackets,
but never the elder ones.
If the attendants commit any serious offence, it is reported to the
head of the department; those, for instance, who act as ladies’ maids
are reported to the head lady in waiting, those in the kitchen to the
head housekeeper. One particular woman in this department had been
responsible for over fifty years for the dressing of the fish, yet she
was only sixty-five when she mentioned the fact, so her responsibilities
had begun early.
There are, however, alleviations to the lot of the palace attendants, for
they have alternately ten days’ duty and ten days’ holiday. The royal
ladies have not only women attendants, but also eunuchs, one of the worst
curses of life in an eastern palace. They are required to carry messages
from one department to another, and also to perform other duties. One of
the eunuchs belonging to the household of the Dowager Empress used to
read aloud to her a small daily Korean newspaper. While so doing he sat
outside the window, where he could be heard, but whence he could not see
inside, because the window was of paper. Korea is like China in respect
of windows, and is only now beginning to replace paper by glass.
All this old palace life which I have been describing came to an end
not long after the death of the Dowager Empress in 1904. We wandered
among the desolate ruins which marked the site of her residence. Finally
we reached a grove of pines where is a strange memorial—more like a
bandstand than anything else—it marks the site where the remains of the
late Empress Min were burned, after she had been cruelly done to death
by the Japanese in 1895. In vain her ladies had closed up round her and
tried to save her; in vain had one of them declared herself to be the
Empress and paid the penalty—in vain, alas!—with her own life. She was
hunted from the very presence of the Emperor to her own apartments in
the middle of the night, and there put to the sword. In 1897 the court
removed to the new palace in the western section of the city, where the
deposed Emperor still lives.
Another day we visited the mausoleum erected to her memory, in a
beautiful spot some miles to the east of the city. Passing through
the east gate we took a tram through the suburbs till we reached the
terminus, and there turning off into the woods we walked along a
beautiful shady road for nearly a mile. One or two parties of Japanese
were the only people we met, and they were evidently bent on picnicking,
a favourite form of amusement among them. We had an American friend with
us, and when we got to our destination she feared we would not be allowed
to climb the hill on which the monument stood. I decided not to wait for
permission, and hastily ran up to a beautiful spot commanding a fine view
over the plain with the tomb immediately below me, and set to work with
the utmost despatch. I had the pleasure of seeing the other visitors
arrive and get sent away, and then the guard came up to dislodge me. I
met him with a disarming smile, and showed him the sketch, ignoring his
obvious intention. Our American friend was greatly concerned as to the
righteousness of feigning ignorance, for she understood and translated
all they were saying, such as that no one was allowed there except people
of great importance, &c. &c. Further shouting from below to send us
away was followed by the slow climbing of the hill by other officials.
I greeted them in the same way as the first, and it had an equally
disarming effect; they seemed quite nonplussed, and before they could
decide how to act the sketch was finished, and I presented them with an
acceptable _douceur_, and said good-bye. Their refusal to allow people to
approach the tomb, where only the little finger of the Empress is buried,
is quite reasonable, for the dearest Korean feelings have been outraged
by the wanton disregard shown by visitors who have amused themselves by
pretending to ride the stone animals and otherwise “fooling” about the
spot.
[Illustration: EMPRESS’S TOMB]
Outside Seoul there are many graves of humbler persons, but selected with
equal care, and I have made a sketch of one showing the kind of horseshoe
mound within which they are most frequently placed. It was a beautiful
spot, fragrant with wild azalea just coming into bloom. It is well
described in Dr. Gale’s “Korean Sketches” (p. 216). “A grave is chosen on
a mountain front if possible, having two arm-like ridges on either hand,
one called the dragon side and one the tiger. There should be a mountain
directly in the foreground called the An-san, to stand as a support to
the family of the dead, otherwise the grave luck would flow down the
valley and be dissipated. There must be free exit for streams or surface
waters. This is the grave site in outline. Then come the special mountain
peaks that are looked for on either side of the An-san. One will mean
long life to the family, another a numerous posterity, another rank,
another wealth. Every mountain peak to right or left hand has its special
message, which the geomancer (the man who has selected the site) holds in
his professional grasp.”
There is not much to be seen in the town of Seoul, though it boasts a
museum and zoological gardens. The present palace is beautifully situated
near the east gate amongst fine pine-trees, and the present Emperor lives
a secluded life there since the Japanese insisted upon his ascending the
throne. Naturally these buildings are not open to the public.
There are various missionary bodies at work in the capital, where they
have their headquarters, but all the leading people seemed to be away
itinerating in the country. The Roman Catholics and Anglican Missions are
active, but, as one of its members informed me, the work of the latter
has only been fully developed during the last few years. The Young Men’s
Christian Association have fine premises presented by an American, and
the Salvation Army are the newest comers in the field.
[Illustration: KOREAN GRAVES]
The Japanese have built fine banks, post-office, railway station, and
other public offices, but they prove desperately slow in transacting
business. I had already experienced in Moukden that it required nearly
an hour to get a few pounds on a letter of credit at a Japanese bank,
and here they were equally slow. To my joy I saw a nice slab of Indian
ink and a brush on the counter for signing names, for the Japanese, and
Chinese, and Koreans still paint instead of writing their signatures. I
thought I would utilise the time by completing a sketch in my book while
the clerk was busy calculating how much the sum I wanted would come to
in Japanese money. I was soon disabused of the idea, for the whole staff
of the bank collected round to watch the proceeding, including the clerk
who was doing my business. No doubt they found it a pleasant distraction,
and time seemed to be of no importance. Their calculations are all done
with an abacus, and when I asked them simply to double the sum I had
originally asked for, it took exactly eighteen minutes to calculate twice
five! It is obvious that the interests charged on banking transactions
must be large to cover the cost of stately buildings and numberless
clerks, combined apparently with a minimum of business. The Japanese have
imposed a Japanese currency on the country, and the bulk of the money
used does equally for both countries, but there is a small quantity of
coin bearing the Korean stamp which is not current in Japan.
It seems absurd to the traveller to hear the Japanese pretending that
they have not annexed Korea, for they have, practically speaking,
taken possession of _everything_ in the most high-handed manner; they
have dispossessed the Koreans of all riparian rights, of fishing, game
shooting, of the coasting trade, of large quantities of land, for which
a purely nominal price has been given, and which the Koreans have
been forced to sell contrary to their wishes. The railways, post, and
telegraph, the currency, taxation, and customs, are entirely in their
hands; what is left for them to appropriate? The bitterness of the
bondage is aggravated by the fact that so few of the Japanese trouble to
learn the language, so that misunderstandings constantly arise. They have
given different names to the places, even to the capital. The courtesy,
which is such a universal characteristic of the Japanese at home, he has
left behind. However, it is to be remembered that this is a transitional
period, and it is ardently to be desired that the Japanese Government
will continue their good attempts to withdraw those who have been
creating disturbances and to place a better class of officials in power.
Some progress has already been made in this direction, especially with
regard to the judges. The Koreans are reaping the harvest of neglected
opportunities and churlish exclusiveness, and it is a bitter harvest.
One of the saddest losses Koreans have suffered of late has been that of
Prince Ito, their best friend amongst their rulers, the irony of fate
being shown in the fact that it was a Korean who murdered the Japanese
prince. The murderer was taken for trial to Japan, and faced his death
sentence with great equanimity. As he was engaged at the time in writing
a poem, the authorities postponed his execution for ten days in order
that he might have time to finish it!