A GLIMPSE OF THE KING
Yung Pak's earliest days were spent very much as are those of most
babies, whether they live in Korea or America. Eating and sleeping were
his chief occupations.
When he grew old enough to run about, his father employed for him a
servant, Kim Yong, whose business it was to see that no harm came to the
child. For several years the two were constantly together, even sleeping
in the same room at night.
Once when Yung Pak and his attendant were out for their daily walk their
attention was attracted by the sound of music in the distance.
"What is that music?" asked Yung Pak.
"That is the king's band. It must be that there is going to be a
procession," was Kim Yong's reply.
"Oh, I know what it is," said Yung Pak. "The king is going to the new
Temple of Ancestors. My father said the tablets on which the king's
forefathers' names are engraved are to be put in place to-day."
"Let us hurry so as to get into a place where we can have a good view of
the procession."
"Yes, we will; for father told me that this is to be an extra fine one,
and he is to be in it himself. I want to see him when he goes by."
By this time Yung Pak and Kim Yong were running as fast as their flowing
garments and their dignity would allow them. And everybody else, from
the dirtiest street boy to the gravest old man, was hurrying toward the
palace gate through which the procession was to come. Yung Pak and Kim
Yong were fortunate enough to get a position where they could see the
palace gate, and the procession would have to pass by them on its way to
the temple.
Meanwhile the band inside the palace walls kept up its music, and the
people outside could also hear the shouts of officers giving their
orders to guards and soldiers.
Soon there was an extra flourish of the music, and the gate, toward
which all eyes had been strained, was suddenly flung wide open with a
great clang.
Hundreds of soldiers already lined the streets to keep the crowd back
out of the way of the procession.
First through the gate came a company of Korean foot-soldiers, in blue
uniforms. Directly after them came a lot of palace attendants in curious
hats and long robes of all colours of the rainbow. Some were dressed in
blue, some in red, some in orange, some in yellow, some in a mixture of
colours. All carried staves bound with streamers of ribbons.
Following the attendants came a line of bannermen, with red flags, on
which were various inscriptions in blue; then came drummers and
pipe-players dressed in yellow costumes, their instruments decked with
ribbons.
Yung Pak next saw more soldiers, dressed in the queerest of ancient
costumes; afterward came men with cymbals and bells, cavalrymen on foot,
and more palace attendants. Through the whole line were seen many
officials, gaudily adorned with plumes, gold lace, gilt fringe, swords,
and coloured decorations of all sorts. Many of the officials had on
high-crowned hats decorated with bunches of feathers and crimson
tassels. These were fastened by a string of amber beads around the
throat. Blue and orange and red were the colours of their robes. Then
followed more bannermen, drummers, and servants carrying food, fire, and
pipes.
All the time there was a tremendous beating of drums and blowing of
horns and ringing of bells. The noise was so great that Kim Yong hardly
heard Yung Pak when he shouted:
"Oh, I see papa!"
"Where is he?"
"Don't you see him right behind that little man in yellow who is
carrying a big blue flag?"
"Oh, yes," said Kim Yong. "He has on a long green robe, and on his
turban are long orange plumes."
"Yes; and on both sides of him, in green gauze coats, are his servants.
I wonder if he will notice us as he goes by."
"Indeed he will not. At least, if he does see us, he will give no sign,
for this is too solemn and important an occasion for him to relax his
dignity."
On state occasions Ki Pak could look as sedate and dignified as the most
serious official in all Korea; and that is saying a good deal, for in
no country do the officials appear more solemn than in this "Land of the
Morning Radiance."
Now along came more soldiers, followed by the great nobles of the
kingdom, and finally, amid a most terrific beating of drums, a fearful
jangling of bells, and a horrid screaming of pipes, the guard of the
king himself appeared.
Suddenly all was silent. Drum-beating, pipe-blowing, and shouting all
died away. The sound of hurried footsteps alone was heard. All at once
into sight came the imperial chair of state. In this chair was the king,
but not yet could Yung Pak get a glimpse of his royal master. Yellow
silken panels hid him from the view of the curious crowd, and over the
top was a canopy of the same description, ornamented with heavy, rich
tassels.
This gorgeous chair was much heavier than those used by officials and
ordinary citizens, and it took thirty-two men to carry it quickly and
safely past the throng to the entrance of the temple. Only a few minutes
were necessary for this journey, for the temple was but a short distance
from the palace gate, and both were in plain sight of Yung Pak and Kim
Yong.
It was only a fleeting glimpse of the king that they got, as he passed
from his chair to the temple gate; but this was enough to repay Yung Pak
for the rushing and the crowding and the waiting that he had been
obliged to endure. Rare indeed were these glimpses of his Majesty, and
they afforded interest and excitement enough to last a long while.
But the procession was not over yet. A chair covered with red silk,
borne on the shoulders of sixteen chair-men, passed up to the temple.
"Who is in that chair?" asked Yung Pak of his companion.
"The crown prince," was Kim Yong's reply.
"He attends his royal father in all these ceremonies of state."
Yung Pak drew a long breath, but said nothing. He only thought what a
fine thing it must be to be a king's son, and wear such gorgeous
clothes, and have so many servants at his call.
And then he had a second thought. He would not want to exchange his
splendid father for all the glory and magnificence of the king's court.
After the king and the crown prince, with their attendant officials and
servants and priests, had gone into the temple, Yung Pak and Kim Yong
did not stay longer at their post. The order of the procession had
broken, and the king and his immediate retinue would return privately to
the palace after he should pay homage and offer sacrifice to the spirits
of his ancestors.