Despite the fact that the route of the procession lay between the high walls of a private passage, some twenty-five feet wide, leading from the offices of the Customs to the grounds of the Legation, into which a postern gate gives access from the Palace, and through which no Korean is ever permitted to pass, soldiers, one pace apart, faced one another upon opposite sides of the road. The public, seeing nothing of the ceremony, gathered such consolation as was possible from the spectacle of the masses of infantry occupying the Palace Square. Occasional glimpses of Palace officials were also secured, and the blatant discord of triumphant song, with which the private musicians of the Emperor greeted his arrival and the passing of the Court, fell faintly upon expectant ears. It is, however, the proud privilege of the Koreans to pay for these promenades of the Court. If they did not see the august countenance of his Majesty upon this occasion, it is to be hoped that they derived some consolation for the heavy taxation, with which they are burdened, from the brave show made by the brand new uniforms of the troops. The plumes, gold lace and swords of the officers, and the rifles and bayonets of the men would have fascinated any crowd. Until the moment of departure, the army lay around upon the road, sleeping in the dust, or squatted in the shade upon the steps of buildings, partaking of breakfast—a decomposed mass of sun-dried, raw fish and rice which stunk horribly, but which they devoured greedily, tearing it into shreds with their fingers. Occasionally a loyal citizen brought them water or passed round a pipe, taking the opportunity to run his finger along the edge of a bayonet, or over the surface of a coat.
The Emperor was passing in this festive state to pay homage to the tablets of his ancestors upon their transference to a fresh abode. The gorgeousness of the pageant burst upon the colourless monotony of the capital with all the violent splendour and vivid beauty of an Arabian sunset. It was right and proper that the magnificence of the celebration should be unrestricted. The importance of the occasion was without parallel in the festivals of the year. The momentary brilliancy of the picture, which centres round the usually secluded sovereign at such a moment, implied the glorification of a dynasty, which has already occupied the throne of Korea for more than five centuries. Quaint and stately as the pageant was, the splendour of a barbaric mediævalism is best seen in processions of a more public character.
WITHIN THE PALACE GROUNDS, SEOUL
The procession started from the Palace about 10 A.M. It presented elements strangely suggestive of burlesque, romance, and the humours of a pantomime. Korean infantry, in blue uniforms, headed the order of the advance from the Palace, their modern dress and smart accoutrements forming the one link between the middle ages and the twentieth century, to which the function could lay claim. After them, running, stumbling, and chattering noisily, passed a mob of Palace attendants in fantastic hats and costumes of various degrees of brilliancy, long silken robes of blue, green, yellow, red and orange, carrying staves bound with embroidered streamers of coloured ribbons. A line of bannermen followed, bearing red silken flags with blue characters, also hurrying and stumbling forward; then passed a file of pipes and drums, the men in yellow robes with the shimmer of gold about them, streamers fluttering from the pipes, ribbons decking the drums. Men bearing arrows in leather frames and flags of green, red and yellow, were next. Soldiers in ancient costume, wonderful to behold, men with bells and jingling cymbals, pipes and fans, Palace eunuchs in Court dress, detachments of dismounted cavalry, their horses not appearing, but their riders garbed in voluminous shirts, their hats covered with feathers and wearing high boots, swept along, amiable and foolish of aspect.
IMPERIAL THRONE, SEOUL
The procession, which preceded the passing of the Emperor, seemed almost unending. At every moment the sea of colour broke into waves of every imaginable hue, as one motley crowd of retainers, servants, musicians and officials gave place to another. Important and imposing officials in high-crowned hats, adorned with crimson tassels festooned with bunches of feathers and fastened by a string of amber beads round the throat, were pushed along, silent and helpless. Their dresses were glaring combinations of red and blue and orange; they were supported by men in green gauze coats and followed by other signal marks of Korean grandeur, more banners and bannermen, flags decorated with feathers, servants carrying boxes of refreshments, small tables, pipes and fire. These were succeeded by others just as imposing, helpless and beautiful to behold; the breasts and backs of their superb robes were decorated with satin squares, embroidered, after the style of China, with the symbols of their offices—birds for civilians, tigers for those of military rank. Statesmen in their official robes gave place to others in winged hats or lofty mitres, gleaming with tinsel. The Commander-in-Chief, with Japanese, Chinese, and Korean decorations flashing in the sunshine from the breast of his modern uniform, followed by his staff in red coats heavily braided with gold lace, and with white aigrettes waving in their hats, passed, marching proudly at the head of the Imperial body-guard. The final stream of colour showed nobles in blue and green silk gauze; Imperial servants with robes of yellow silk, their hats decorated with rosettes; more mediæval costumes, of original colour and quaint conception; a greater multitude of waving flags; a group of silken-clad standard-bearers bearing the Imperial yellow silk flag, the Imperial umbrella, and other insignia. Then a final frantic beating of drums, a horrid jangling of bells, a fearful screaming of pipes, a riot of imperious discord mingled with the voices of the officials shouting orders and the curses of the eunuchs, and finally the van of the Imperial cortège appeared, in a blaze of streaming yellow light, amid a sudden silence in which one could hear the heart-beats of one’s neighbour. The voices died away; the scraping of hurried footsteps alone was audible as the Imperial chair of state, canopied with yellow silk richly tasselled, screened with delicate silken panels of the same colour and bearing wings to keep off the sun, was rushed swiftly and smoothly forward. Thirty-two Imperial runners, clad in yellow, with double mitres upon their heads, bore aloft upon their shoulders the sacred and august person of his Imperial Majesty, the Emperor, to his place of sacrifice and worship in his Temple of Ancestors.
The business of the day had now arrived. Presently the Emperor’s bearers stopped, and he alighted at the entrance of a tent of yellow silk, which had been erected at the angle of the Palace and Legation walls, within the shade of trees in the Legation garden. It was in this spot that his Majesty had given us permission to watch the passing of his Court. It was here, within a moment of his arrival, that the retinue of the Crown Prince, his chair of red silk borne upon the shoulders of sixteen bearers, stopped to set down its princely burden. The Emperor and the Crown Prince passed within the tent, changing the Imperial yellow and crimson robes of state in which they had first appeared for the sacrificial yellow silk, and emerging a little later to make obeisance before the passing of the tablets of their ancestors. The character of the procession was now modified. Soldiers and courtiers, nobles and dignitaries of the Court, gave place to priests clothed in the yellow robes of sacrifice, and chanting in solemn tones the words of benediction. The screaming of pipes took on fresh vigour, rising and falling in shrill cadence, until the air vibrated with conflicting discords. Men, solemn of visage, their yellow skirts swaying with the frenzy of their movements, swept past the throne, a surge of song rising to their lips expressive of the passionate despair and lamentation which (should have) filled their souls. They disappeared, a mocking echo haunting their retreating footsteps. Again the music of the priests broke forth in noisy triumph, heralding the presence of the twelve ancestral tablets, each carried by eight men in chairs of sacrificial yellow, which demanded the homage of the expectant pair. One came, moving slowly in a burst of solemn song. The Emperor, his son the Crown Prince, and the baby Prince, the offspring of Lady Om, dropped to the earth. For a moment they rested upon their bended knees, with crossed hands, in a reverent attitude, as their own proud heads sank to the dust before the gilded burdens in the sacred chairs. Twelve times they passed before the Imperial group; twelve times each Prince humbled himself, the circle of supporting nobles and attendant eunuchs assisting them.