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.
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.
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.