Fifteen Years Among the Top-Knots; Or, Life in Korea

by Lillias H. Underwood

The best, however, was to come. The names of the Koreans who had nursed and served at the Shelter and inspection offices were asked for, and the intention to pay them stated. We told them that the men had done this with no expectation of pay, but to this they would not listen and insisted on rewarding them handsomely. On the receipt of this unexpected, and, for them, large sum, almost all the Christians (quite voluntarily, and to our surprise) put it all into the fund for the new church, considering it a gift of God, specially sent in answer to prayer, to help them in the enterprise undertaken in faith.

They were, therefore, now able to go on and finish the church, which accommodates, with crowding, two hundred people. It is an unpretentious building, entirely native, substantial as possible with mud walls, tiled roof and paper windows, yet built and finished much in the style of the best Korean houses, none of which knew, at that time, what it was to boast of a pane of glass, or brick or stone walls. Into it the little congregation flocked, and with glad hearts dedicated to God the work of their hands, which through sacrifice, love, faith and prayer was more costly and precious in his sight than gold or ivory, which had not been so sanctified.

Not long after the cholera epidemic, and the events connected with it, occurred the tragedy at the palace—the murder of the brilliant and progressive queen, the friend of progress, civilization and reform.

Her majesty was a brilliant diplomatist, and usually worsted her opponents. The Japanese, after the war, had indeed proclaimed the independence of Korea, yet seemed in practice to desire to establish a sort of protectorate and to direct her policy at home and abroad. Many public offices were filled with citizens of Japan, or Japanese sympathizers as far as possible, and a large body of the Korean troops were drilled by and under the command of Japanese officers.

Realizing that in the patriotic and brilliant queen they had to meet one who would not readily submit to their plans for the Japanizing of Korea, they objected to her participation at all in the affairs of government, and were promised, under compulsion we were told, that these orders should be obeyed. Naturally this was not done, and the queen continued to be a source of confusion and rock of offense to them and their plans. Finally a decided change was made in the personnel of the Japanese embassy. Count Inoye, who, in the name of his government, had hitherto promised to the queen the support and protection of Japan was recalled. He was replaced by Count Miura, who was a man of very different tendencies. Count Miura was a very strong Buddhist, and passionately devoted to the supposed interests of Japan as against those of any other nation.

THE ROUND GATE, SEOUL

One morning, the 8th of October, 1895, we heard firing at the palace. This was in time of peace, and such sounds we knew must be portents of evil. All was confusion, nothing definite could be learned, except that certain Japanese troops had arrived at about three in the morning, escorting the Tai Won Kun (the king’s father and the queen’s bitter enemy), and had driven out the native royal guard under General Dye (an American) and were now guarding the palace gates. The air was full of ominous suspicions and whispers, but nothing more definite could we learn till afternoon, when meeting a Korean noble, he told us with face all aghast, that it was currently reported that the queen had been murdered.

In a few hours this news was confirmed with particulars. The Tai Won Kun was at that time under guard, in exile from the court, at his country house, for conspiracy against the king in favor of his grandson, and he of course readily consented to become the leader of the plotters against the queen, to enter the palace at the head of their troops and take possession of the persons of their majesties (and the government incidentally), necessarily, of course, doing away with the queen. The troops therefore marched with the old man in his chair to the palace gates, where all had been made ready. Ammunition had been secretly removed, native troops trained by Americans had been mostly exchanged for those trained by Japanese, and after a few shots, and scarcely a pretence of resistance, the attacking party entered. It was some distance to the royal apartments, and the rumor of disturbance reached there some time before the attacking party. Her majesty was alarmed. She was a brave woman, but she knew she had bitter, powerful and treacherous foes, and that, like Damocles, a sword suspended by only too slight a thread hung over her life.

The king’s second son, Prince Oui-wha, begged her to escape with him by a little gate which yet remained unguarded, through which they might pass disguised to friends in the city. The dowager queen, however, was too old to go, and her majesty nobly refused to leave her alone to the terror which occupation of the palace by foreigners would insure, trusting no doubt to the positive assurances of protection that had been made to her through Count Inoye, and the more so, as one of the courtiers in waiting, a man by the name of Chung Pung Ha, had assured her that whatever happened she might rest confident that the persons of their majesties would be perfectly safe. This man was a creature of low origin, whom the queen had raised and bestowed many favors upon, and in whom she placed great reliance. He advised her not to hide, and kept himself informed of all her movements. With no code of honor wider or higher than his pocket, he of course became a ready tool of the assassins, and there is much evidence to show he was a party to the conspiracy.