When the royal family were ready to see us, Mrs. Bunker and I were conducted through the grounds a short distance, passed through several gateways, and at length stood at the entrance of an anteroom half filled with nobles, eunuchs and palace women, beyond which, in a very small inner room, were the king and queen, and their son, a youth about sixteen years of age. We passed forward to the audience-room, bowing frequently and very low to the smiling party of three who awaited us.
Never before had I, an American—a descendant of colonial ancestors who had cast off the shackles of tyranny—bowed so low. Never had I thought to feel as I felt when first entering the presence of a real live king and queen. The royal family had most graciously risen to greet us, and at once invited us to be seated. At that time, at least, Korean nobles never entered the royal presence without prostrating themselves to the ground, and such a piece of presumption as sitting was never dreamed of; so we refused the offered chairs, having been especially warned that not to do so might awaken jealousy and make enemies to the cause of Christianity. The point, however, was insisted upon to such an extent that we could no longer with politeness refuse, and so we found ourselves sitting face to face in a chatty sort of way, in a little eight by ten room, with the king and queen of Korea. The king impressed me at that and every subsequent meeting as a fine-looking genial gentleman. He was attired in a long touramachi, or coat of rich red silk (the royal color), with a cap or head-dress like those worn by the noblemen, except that the wings turned back rather than forward like theirs.
The queen, of course, excited my deepest interest. Slightly pale and quite thin, with somewhat sharp features and brilliant piercing eyes, she did not strike me at first sight as being beautiful, but no one could help reading force, intellect and strength of character in that face, and as she became engaged in conversation, vivacity, naïveté, wit, all brightened her countenance, and gave it a wonderful charm, far greater than mere physical beauty; and I have seen the queen of Korea when she looked positively beautiful.
She possessed mental qualities of a high order, as I soon learned, and although, like all Asiatics, her learning consisted chiefly in the Chinese classics, she possessed a very intelligent idea of the great nations of the world and their governments, for she asked many questions, and remembered what she heard. She was a subtle and able diplomatist and usually outwitted her keenest opponents; she was, moreover, a sovereign of broad and progressive policy, patriotic, and devoted to the best interests of her country and sought the good of the people to a much larger extent than would be expected of an Oriental queen. In addition, she possessed a warm heart, a tender love for little children, a delicacy and consideration in her relations, at least with us missionaries, which would have done honor to any European lady of high rank. The queen, though a Korean who had never seen the society of a foreign court, was a perfect lady. It was with surprise that I learned that as much difference exists in Korea between the people of high birth and breeding and the common coolie as is found between the European gentleman and the day laborer. Their majesties kindly inquired about my trip to Korea, my present comfort, and my friends and family in America, showing the kindest interest in what concerned me most. The conversation was carried on through an interpreter, who stood behind a tall screen, his body bent nearly double in reverence, never raising his eyes.
THE KING OF KOREA. [PAGE 23]
I learned later that Korean doctors, always men, who had treated the queen, felt (?) her pulse by using a cord, one end of which was fastened about her wrist, and the other carried into the next room was held in the doctor’s fingers. The royal tongue, I was told, was protruded through a slit in a screen for the physician’s observation. I found the queen’s trouble nothing more serious than a small furuncle which needed lancing; but as the mere suggestion of approaching her sacred person with any sort of surgical instrument was looked upon with unspeakable horror and indignation by all who surrounded her, and was flatly forbidden by the king, patience and slower measures were necessarily resorted to.
It was hardly to be wondered at that all the queen’s friends were so over-cautious and fearful for her safety. She had suffered long and malignant persecution at the hands of a cruel father-in-law, whose wicked ambitious schemes and greed of power she had balked, and nothing that a fertile brain and hate combined with wealth and influence could contrive was left undone to bring about the ruin of this unhappy lady. Slander, assassins, insurrection, fire, conspiracy with hostile nations—were all resorted to; many and thrilling were her hairbreadth escapes. Once disguised and carried on the back of a faithful retainer, she was taken from one end of the city to the other, and once in a common native woman’s chair she was borne to a place of concealment and safety. Nearly her whole immediate family were destroyed at one fell blow, by means of an infernal machine cunningly devised, sent as a present of great value from a supposed hermit, to be opened only in the presence of every member of the family. Through some fortunate circumstance the queen was detained away, but all present were instantly killed and horribly mutilated. To understand the reason for this ferocious enmity, one needs to know a little of the royal history.
The present king was the adopted son of a former childless king. His widow appointed the present king’s father to act as regent until the majority of his son. The older man was greedy of power, keen and crafty, and not inclined to hand over the reins of government; he therefore selected a wife for his son from a family of his near friends, choosing a woman he supposed he could easily control; but he was mistaken in her character and gifts. Years slipped by and time had long been over-ripe for the king to assume the government, and yet the “Tai-won-kun” gave no sign of relinquishing his clutch upon the reins of power; but the king, gentle and submissive to his father, as all Koreans are taught to be, was unwilling to force a resignation. One morning, however, through a coup d’état of the queen, the old man found himself displaced, and a new cabinet and set of advisers selected from the friends and cousins of the queen. His rage knew no bounds, and from that time forth he planned her destruction. How he finally succeeded in carrying out his malicious intentions must be related later. Thus far, the queen, equally shrewd and fortunate, had escaped his toils.
To return to our palace visit, however. After examining into her majesty’s trouble, and prescribing a course of treatment, we took our leave, backing and bowing ourselves out of the royal apartments as if we had been born and bred hangers-on of courts. I soon learned that all my verbs must wear a long train of “simnaitas,” “simnikas,” and “sipsios,” the highest honorific endings when visiting the palace. Each Korean verb has a generous collection of these endings, from which the confused and unwary stranger must select at his peril, when addressing natives of different ranks; but there is no doubt, fortunately, about what must be used at the palace, and one feels quite safe if every verb is tipped with a “simnaita” or “simnika.” To be sure, there are high Chinese-derived words, which natives always use there, instead of the simpler Anglo-Saxon—I should say, Korean—but uninitiated foreigners are not expected to know them, and are really most generously excused for all mistakes. Koreans are in this respect models of kindness and politeness, and will often hear newcomers make the most laughable and absurd mistakes without a single spasm of countenance to show that they have taken note of the blunder.