Unlike Venice, Seoul should not be approached after dark, but we arrived late at night, and drove in rickshas through ill-lighted streets and over endless stones to our destination, Miss Finder’s rest-house for missionaries, excellently situated in the upper part of the town.

With morning light we received a different and beautiful impression of the town. It is encircled within lofty hills of granite that change in colour at different times of day from gold and steel to deep blue. Formerly high walls surrounded it, pierced by noble gateways, but these walls are rapidly disappearing to form material for building Japanese houses of truly Philistine ugliness. Every day sees new and deplorable changes in the way of picturesqueness, and one is tempted to say that even sanitation may be too dearly bought.

We started on a lovely spring morning to visit the old palace, which, subject to certain rules, is now thrown open to the public at a small charge. The first rule is that visitors must be respectably dressed, the next that they must not catch birds or fish, and so on. The Imperial Palace covers a large area of ground, and is surrounded by lofty walls, in which there are eight or ten doorways, surmounted by the typical curved and tiled roofs. It looks like a small walled town, and used to contain some 3000 persons. The main entrance to the palace is at the end of a wide thoroughfare, adorned with fine stone animals on pedestals, and flanked by official buildings on each side, which, alas, are being pulled down to be replaced by Japanese buildings. This thoroughfare was a gay and busy scene. The Korean dress is eminently picturesque, and many of the women wear brilliant cloaks of lettuce or apple green with scarlet streamers; this cloak depends from the crown of the head to below the knees; the sleeves are never used, nor indeed could they be used, as the space for the neck is filled in with a piece of white material which acts as a cap and raises the coat several inches above the proper height. This strange garment is said to have been originally a man’s coat, and the wives used to wear it (as so many Eastern women do) to conceal their figures in the streets. It certainly adds a most charming note of colour to the streets of Seoul. The ordinary dress of the women is entirely white; it consists of a short coat, baggy trousers, and large pleated apron completely enclosing them and acting as a skirt. The lower class women are not careful to prevent there being a gap between the upper and lower garments; as they seem to be always nursing a baby, they no doubt think the costume was devised to suit that purpose. My sketch shows the dress with the addition of the winter cap.

On passing from the square into the precincts of the palace by the main gateway you have a vision of harmony in green; a delicate, subtle blending of greens in courtyard buildings, and pine-trees behind them, while the range of hills towers in the background. A beautiful bridge spans a sort of moat, over which grotesque stone creatures lean towards the water as if about to plunge into it. On the right there is an entrance to an open space of ground where the Japanese are erecting a boys’ school. This is a hard blow to Korean pride, but unfortunately our Japanese allies are apparently reckless of such details, and instead of trying to make their protectorate as conciliatory as possible, they too often do the reverse; indeed it is only in rare instances that they seem to do otherwise. In many ways they are doing a great deal which should benefit the country, but in such a manner as to make it thoroughly obnoxious. It is of little use to repudiate the idea of annexation, when they trample on the dearest wishes of the Korean, and treat him as a vanquished foe. From this courtyard one passes into others where the sewing women used to live, for there are numbers of courts surrounded by houses varying in size and importance, but all of them in a state of decay.

The palace is the most beautiful and cherished spot in the capital, and it is sad to see it falling to pieces with alarming rapidity, while the part inhabited by the Empress was absolutely destroyed and its very stones used in the construction of other buildings.

The great audience chamber is a glorious colour study in green, Venetian red, gold, and blue, with lofty pillars stretching up to the ornate roof, which culminates in a centrepiece of gold dragons, somewhat different in design from the Chinese dragon. Although it is only one storey, the roof has been so built so as to give it a great appearance of height. All round the hall are latticed windows, which could be set open for large audiences. The hall is surrounded on three sides by a fine large paved court, through the centre of which runs a double line of stones like milestones; they mark the places where the courtiers used to stand according to their rank when waiting their turn for audience on state occasions.

Court beyond court the palace stretches to the Emperor’s private apartments, which were more modest in size than the public halls.

The Emperor used to rise about noon, so the morning hours were quite quiet, no unnecessary labour being permitted. The imperial réveillé was announced by a roll of drums, summoning all courtiers, physicians, and attendants to be in readiness for his Majesty’s appearance. Then the courts became thronged like a busy hive of bees; the courtiers got out of their chairs at the entrance, and were only allowed to bring in one or two attendants, while the remainder of their retinue waited outside. The court dress consists of a beautiful myrtle green coat, a square breastplate (betokening the official rank) fastened on by a thick belt standing out several inches from the body, black velvet top-boots with white soles, and a peculiar tall black cap made of horsehair, with ears of the same material standing out on each side of it. This costume forms the design on the cover of the book, and it was a Korean gentleman who kindly gave me the opportunity of sketching it. This costume was also worn by eunuchs when on duty in the palace. As in China, eunuchs have played a sorry part in the political game in Korea.

The ordinary business of the court used to be transacted during the afternoon. Sometimes one of the ministers of the foreign legations would be received in audience by his Majesty, and sometimes there would be a special function with regard to ancestral worship. Once a year the Emperor would go to a certain field outside Seoul (which was pointed out to us near the east gate of the city) to plough the first furrow of the year.

After sundown the gates of the palace were shut and barred, and no one might go in or out without special permission of the Emperor. During the night state business was transacted, and not only was his Majesty informed of matters of importance, but he was also entertained with the small talk of the palace. There were always one or two Ministers of State on duty throughout the night, and they left the palace at daybreak, when the Emperor retired to rest.

To the left of the Emperor’s private apartments there is a gateway leading out into a place of delight, a large walled garden containing a spacious open summer-house surrounded by water. It is on a stone platform, and consists of two storeys, supported on handsome pillars and devoid of walls. The roof was of the usual Chinese type, with overhanging eaves enriched with carvings painted blue, green, and gold, contrasting finely with the Venetian red of the balcony and ceilings. A flight of steps leads down from it to the pond which is full of lotus blossoms, below which gold fish may be discerned in peaceful security. Here again the hand of time is heavy, walls are falling down, steps dropping asunder, and the brickwork beginning to crumble at the present time. It is only used for Japanese garden parties, and one would fain hope that the Japanese love of beauty will conquer prejudice sufficiently to save it from the ravages of time and neglect before it is too late. Beautiful pine-trees and hills form a worthy setting to this jewel.

The Dowager Empress Hong had her own residence and separate establishment in the rear of this part of the palace, where she was frequently visited by the Emperor, usually accompanied by the Crown Prince. In Korea it is considered the duty of every son, or adopted son, to visit his mother daily. Every afternoon the Dowager Empress sent two or three of her ladies-in-waiting to present her compliments to his Majesty, and to inquire after his health. The ladies who were sent on this errand had to wear some additional garment for the purpose, or to have their hair dressed over an immense frame. The residence of the Dowager Empress was enclosed within high walls, and the entrance gate was hung with dark blue cloth, ornamented with balls of white cotton wool, so that when the gates were open no one should be able to see into the courtyard. Two of the palace police, men of superior position to the city police, were stationed as guards outside the gates. After the death of the Empress Min, the Crown Prince occupied the same residence as the Emperor, and they were rarely separated from one another. During the Russo-Japanese war it was reported by some of the war correspondents that the Emperor had married the daughter of an American missionary, and that she was called the Empress Emily Brown. As this story obtained a certain amount of credence in America I am glad to be able to state publicly that there was not a word of truth in the rumour. The Emperor was devoted to the memory of the Empress Min, and has not married again. For this and the other details of palace life I am indebted to a friend who was at that time closely connected with the court, and who continued so for many years afterwards.

The Crown Princess had her own house and establishment like the Dowager Empress, but on a smaller scale. Every afternoon she went to pay her respects to the Emperor, attended by her ladies-in-waiting and eunuchs, and they might not leave the royal presence until dismissed. This custom was not confined to royalty, but in the Korean nobility etiquette demands that daughters should pay their respects to fathers, and daughters-in-law to their fathers-in-law, and that they should remain standing until dismissed or asked to sit down. According to the usual custom in the East the wives of the sons live in the same compound as the father, frequently in the same building as his wife and daughters, so the carrying out of this custom is a simple matter.

It may be of interest to know some details of the life of the women in an eastern palace. They come into the palace as children of nine or ten years old, bright, good-looking (the Korean ideal of beauty is very different from ours), and intelligent girls. They are trained by other girls a year or two older than themselves, each for her own department. As soon as the children enter service the pigtail of childhood is abandoned, and the hair is dressed in a knot, resting on the nape of the neck. This signifies marriage in the case of all other Korean maidens; but marriage is prohibited in the case of those who enter service in the palace, although it is admittedly the duty of every woman. The girls are dressed in white silk jackets and long mazarine blue silk skirts. The little ones are sometimes allowed to wear pink or yellow silk jackets, but never the elder ones.

If the attendants commit any serious offence, it is reported to the head of the department; those, for instance, who act as ladies’ maids are reported to the head lady in waiting, those in the kitchen to the head housekeeper. One particular woman in this department had been responsible for over fifty years for the dressing of the fish, yet she was only sixty-five when she mentioned the fact, so her responsibilities had begun early.

There are, however, alleviations to the lot of the palace attendants, for they have alternately ten days’ duty and ten days’ holiday. The royal ladies have not only women attendants, but also eunuchs, one of the worst curses of life in an eastern palace. They are required to carry messages from one department to another, and also to perform other duties. One of the eunuchs belonging to the household of the Dowager Empress used to read aloud to her a small daily Korean newspaper. While so doing he sat outside the window, where he could be heard, but whence he could not see inside, because the window was of paper. Korea is like China in respect of windows, and is only now beginning to replace paper by glass.

All this old palace life which I have been describing came to an end not long after the death of the Dowager Empress in 1904. We wandered among the desolate ruins which marked the site of her residence. Finally we reached a grove of pines where is a strange memorial—more like a bandstand than anything else—it marks the site where the remains of the late Empress Min were burned, after she had been cruelly done to death by the Japanese in 1895. In vain her ladies had closed up round her and tried to save her; in vain had one of them declared herself to be the Empress and paid the penalty—in vain, alas!—with her own life. She was hunted from the very presence of the Emperor to her own apartments in the middle of the night, and there put to the sword. In 1897 the court removed to the new palace in the western section of the city, where the deposed Emperor still lives.

Another day we visited the mausoleum erected to her memory, in a beautiful spot some miles to the east of the city. Passing through the east gate we took a tram through the suburbs till we reached the terminus, and there turning off into the woods we walked along a beautiful shady road for nearly a mile. One or two parties of Japanese were the only people we met, and they were evidently bent on picnicking, a favourite form of amusement among them. We had an American friend with us, and when we got to our destination she feared we would not be allowed to climb the hill on which the monument stood. I decided not to wait for permission, and hastily ran up to a beautiful spot commanding a fine view over the plain with the tomb immediately below me, and set to work with the utmost despatch. I had the pleasure of seeing the other visitors arrive and get sent away, and then the guard came up to dislodge me. I met him with a disarming smile, and showed him the sketch, ignoring his obvious intention. Our American friend was greatly concerned as to the righteousness of feigning ignorance, for she understood and translated all they were saying, such as that no one was allowed there except people of great importance, &c. &c. Further shouting from below to send us away was followed by the slow climbing of the hill by other officials. I greeted them in the same way as the first, and it had an equally disarming effect; they seemed quite nonplussed, and before they could decide how to act the sketch was finished, and I presented them with an acceptable douceur, and said good-bye. Their refusal to allow people to approach the tomb, where only the little finger of the Empress is buried, is quite reasonable, for the dearest Korean feelings have been outraged by the wanton disregard shown by visitors who have amused themselves by pretending to ride the stone animals and otherwise “fooling” about the spot.

Outside Seoul there are many graves of humbler persons, but selected with equal care, and I have made a sketch of one showing the kind of horseshoe mound within which they are most frequently placed. It was a beautiful spot, fragrant with wild azalea just coming into bloom. It is well described in Dr. Gale’s “Korean Sketches” (p. 216). “A grave is chosen on a mountain front if possible, having two arm-like ridges on either hand, one called the dragon side and one the tiger. There should be a mountain directly in the foreground called the An-san, to stand as a support to the family of the dead, otherwise the grave luck would flow down the valley and be dissipated. There must be free exit for streams or surface waters. This is the grave site in outline. Then come the special mountain peaks that are looked for on either side of the An-san. One will mean long life to the family, another a numerous posterity, another rank, another wealth. Every mountain peak to right or left hand has its special message, which the geomancer (the man who has selected the site) holds in his professional grasp.”

There is not much to be seen in the town of Seoul, though it boasts a museum and zoological gardens. The present palace is beautifully situated near the east gate amongst fine pine-trees, and the present Emperor lives a secluded life there since the Japanese insisted upon his ascending the throne. Naturally these buildings are not open to the public.

There are various missionary bodies at work in the capital, where they have their headquarters, but all the leading people seemed to be away itinerating in the country. The Roman Catholics and Anglican Missions are active, but, as one of its members informed me, the work of the latter has only been fully developed during the last few years. The Young Men’s Christian Association have fine premises presented by an American, and the Salvation Army are the newest comers in the field.

The Japanese have built fine banks, post-office, railway station, and other public offices, but they prove desperately slow in transacting business. I had already experienced in Moukden that it required nearly an hour to get a few pounds on a letter of credit at a Japanese bank, and here they were equally slow. To my joy I saw a nice slab of Indian ink and a brush on the counter for signing names, for the Japanese, and Chinese, and Koreans still paint instead of writing their signatures. I thought I would utilise the time by completing a sketch in my book while the clerk was busy calculating how much the sum I wanted would come to in Japanese money. I was soon disabused of the idea, for the whole staff of the bank collected round to watch the proceeding, including the clerk who was doing my business. No doubt they found it a pleasant distraction, and time seemed to be of no importance. Their calculations are all done with an abacus, and when I asked them simply to double the sum I had originally asked for, it took exactly eighteen minutes to calculate twice five! It is obvious that the interests charged on banking transactions must be large to cover the cost of stately buildings and numberless clerks, combined apparently with a minimum of business. The Japanese have imposed a Japanese currency on the country, and the bulk of the money used does equally for both countries, but there is a small quantity of coin bearing the Korean stamp which is not current in Japan.

It seems absurd to the traveller to hear the Japanese pretending that they have not annexed Korea, for they have, practically speaking, taken possession of everything in the most high-handed manner; they have dispossessed the Koreans of all riparian rights, of fishing, game shooting, of the coasting trade, of large quantities of land, for which a purely nominal price has been given, and which the Koreans have been forced to sell contrary to their wishes. The railways, post, and telegraph, the currency, taxation, and customs, are entirely in their hands; what is left for them to appropriate? The bitterness of the bondage is aggravated by the fact that so few of the Japanese trouble to learn the language, so that misunderstandings constantly arise. They have given different names to the places, even to the capital. The courtesy, which is such a universal characteristic of the Japanese at home, he has left behind. However, it is to be remembered that this is a transitional period, and it is ardently to be desired that the Japanese Government will continue their good attempts to withdraw those who have been creating disturbances and to place a better class of officials in power. Some progress has already been made in this direction, especially with regard to the judges. The Koreans are reaping the harvest of neglected opportunities and churlish exclusiveness, and it is a bitter harvest.

One of the saddest losses Koreans have suffered of late has been that of Prince Ito, their best friend amongst their rulers, the irony of fate being shown in the fact that it was a Korean who murdered the Japanese prince. The murderer was taken for trial to Japan, and faced his death sentence with great equanimity. As he was engaged at the time in writing a poem, the authorities postponed his execution for ten days in order that he might have time to finish it!