[58] Mr. G. H. Jones suggests the idea that these uncouth heap of stones were originally munitions of war over which tutelary dæmons were supposed to brood, and thinks that the transition to an altar would be a very natural one.
CHAPTER XXXVI
SEOUL IN 1897[59]
It was midnight when, by the glory of an October full moon, I arrived from Chemulpo at the foot of the rugged slope crowned with the irregular, lofty, battlemented city wall and picturesque double-roofed gateway of the Gate of Staunch Loyalty which make the western entrance to the Korean capital so unique and attractive. An arrangement had been made for the opening of the gate, and after a long parley between the faithful Im and the guard, the heavy iron-bolted door creaked back before the united efforts of ten men, and I entered Seoul, then under the authority of Ye Cha Yun, an energetic and enlightened Governor, under whose auspices the western part of the city has lost the refuse heaps and foulness, with their concomitant odors, which were its chief characteristic. In the streets and lanes not a man, dog, or cat stirred, and not a light glimmered from any casement; but when I reached Chong-dong, the foreign quarter, I observed that the lower extremity of every road leading in the direction of the Russian Legation was irregularly guarded by several slouching Korean sentries, gossiping in knots as they leaned on their rifles.
The grounds of my host’s house open on those of the King’s new palace, and the King and Crown Prince, attended by large retinues, were constantly carried through them on their way from their asylum in the Russian Legation to perform the customary rites at the spirit shrine, to which the fragmentary remains of the murdered Queen had been removed, to wait until the geomancers could decide on an “auspicious” site for her grave, the one which had been prepared for her at an enormous expense some miles outside the city having just been pronounced “unlucky.”
A few days after my arrival the King went to the Kyeng-wun Palace to receive a Japanese prince, and courteously arranged to give me an audience afterwards, to which I went, attended, as on the last occasion, by the British Legation interpreter. The entrances were guarded by a number of slouching sentries in Japanese uniforms. Their hair, which had been cropped at the time of the abolition of the “topknot,” had grown again, and hung in heavy shocks behind their ears, giving them a semi-barbarous appearance. At the second gate I alighted, no chair being permitted to enter, and walked to a very simple audience hall, then used for the first time, about 20 feet by 12 feet, of white wood, with lattice doors and windows, both covered with fine white paper, and with fine white mats on the floor.
The King and Crown Prince, both of whom were in deep mourning, i.e. in pure white robes with sleeveless dresses of exquisitely fine buff grass-cloth over them, and fine buff crinoline hats, stood together at the upper end of the room, surrounded by eunuchs, court ladies, including the reigning favorites, the ladies Pak and Om, and Court functionaries, all in mourning, the whole giving one an impression of absolute spotlessness. The waists of the voluminous white skirts of the ladies, which are a yard too long for them all round, were as high up as it is possible to place them.
SEOUL AND PALACE ENCLOSURE.
The King and Crown Prince bowed and smiled. I made the required three curtseys to each, and the interpreter adopted the deportment required by Court etiquette, crouching, looking down, and speaking in an awe-struck whisper. I had not seen the King for two years, a period of great anxiety and vicissitude to him, but he was not looking worn or older, and when I congratulated him on his personal security and the assumption of his regal functions he expressed himself cordially in reply, with an air of genuine cheerfulness. In the brief conversation which followed the Crown Prince took part, and showed a fair degree of intelligence, as well as a much improved physique.
Later I had two informal audiences of the King in his house in the centre of the mass of the new buildings of the Kyeng-wun Palace. It is a detached Korean dwelling of the best Korean workmanship, with a deep-eaved, tiled roof, the carved beams of which are elaborately painted, and their terminals decorated with the five-petalled plum blossom, the dynastic emblem. The house consists of a hall with a kang floor, divided into one large and two small rooms by sliding and removable partitions of fretwork, filled in with fine tissue paper, the windows which occupy the greater part of both sides being of the same construction. The very small rooms at each end are indicated as the sleeping apartments of the King and his son by pale blue silk mattresses laid upon the fine white mats which cover the whole floor. The only furniture was two ten-leaved white screens. The fastenings of the windows and partitions are of very fine Korean brasswork. Simplicity could not go further.