His Majesty is rather under the average of Korean height, and is about forty years of age. The Queen, contrary to the usual custom in Korea, is much younger.
He wears a dress somewhat resembling the ordinary Korean court dress; but his dress is of brilliant scarlet. The dresses of his nobles are of pale blue or pink. The King wears the usual white Korean collar, and a plastron, and shoulder pieces (or epaulettes) of gold and jewels.
All Korean hats are wonderful. A Korean court hat is simply marvellous. It is most noticeable for its wings or ears, which project sharply out from either side. They typify human ears, and signify that the wearer has his ears wide spread to catch the most whispered command of his Majesty. Even Li-Hsi wears a court hat. But his ears (I mean his hat’s ears) stand erect, or are at the tips caught together at the top of the hat. This is because the Emperor of China is too far away for his actual voice to be heard by the Korean King, and no other human being but the Chinese Emperor may speak to Li-Hsi with anything even approaching insistent emphasis. To no other voice need the King of Korea listen, unless he like. So at least it was until a few months ago.
The King of Korea has a gracious but dignified bearing. His face is fine and beautiful, and his smile is peculiarly sweet and winning.
There are two great palaces in Söul: the Old Palace and the New Palace. The New Palace is four hundred years old and more. The old palace is as old as Söul. The present King of Korea lives in the New Palace. His Majesty deserted the Old Palace, or, to be more exact, upon his accession to the throne, declined to adopt it as his residence, because it was full of, to him, painful family reminiscences.
The Old Palace is one of the few Architectural wonders of Söul. It is deserted now, and in parts decaying. It is surrounded by an admirable wall. Its principal gate is guarded by two gigantic stone monsters. The Koreans call them Chinese Lions, and the Japanese call them Korean dogs. They look as much like one as the other. They are of Chinese descent. The Koreans copied them from the Chinese. In Korea they caught the quick Japanese fancy. From that day they have played a conspicuous part in Japanese art, and have even become familiar to European eyes, because they grin at us from so many thousands of the cheaper (so called) Satsuma vases.
The Old Palace is a vast collection of buildings, of court-yards, of landscape gardens, of parks and of lotus-ponds. In its centre stands the famous Audience Hall, which I am almost tempted to call one of the architectural wonders of the world. I may safely call it one of the architectural and artistic wonders of Korea. Many steps lead up to the entrance of the Audience Hall. This alone is in Korea a great distinction. Save the King only, no Korean may build or own a building outside of which there are more than three steps. Four steps would be high treason, and would cost their owner a traitor’s death.
In the background of the Old Palace is Nam San, the mountain upon which signal-fires burn every nightfall, telling the inhabitants of Söul that all goes well throughout the kingdom. Or if, as now, aught goes ill, the fires tell that—tell it with considerable detail. It is a curious signal-code, as complicated as ingenious; but it is beautifully vivid and altogether effective.
The New Palace is in a collection of palaces. Like Söul its grounds are surrounded by an elaborate wall. Those grounds cover over a hundred acres, every rod of which is beautiful. They are carefully laid out, but not with foolish elaborateness. Nature is accented in those palace grounds, but never interfered with. Wherever an exceptionally pretty bit of view is to be seen, there is a quaint Korean summer-house. And as the pretty bits tread upon each other’s heels, the grounds are rather thick with odd summer-houses, and still odder pavilions. The Koreans are intensely fond of Nature; but they are not fond of exercise. They like to sit, even when they look upon the trees, the flowers, the hills, the sky, the lotus-ponds that they so love. Therefore the grounds of a king’s house would be most incomplete, were not rest and shelter available at every few yards.
A summer-house in the grounds of the New Palace is a favourite haunt of the present king. On a drowsy summer afternoon his Majesty sits there for hours, sipping tea and watching the changeless loveliness of the view.