The Dragon Queen

by William Andrews

  “That is a most disturbing report, indeed,” I said. “Based on what you saw, what do you recommend that we do?”

  My uncle shook his head. “I fear for our country, Your Majesty. We must open our shores without hesitation, to modernize this still ancient kingdom.”

  I looked at him. It had been difficult for him to give me such a grave report, but I was grateful that he had the courage to do it. He was someone on whom I could depend, and with what I faced, I would need him. “Thank you, Uncle,” I said.

  He looked at me eye-to-eye. “Ja-young, I told you years ago that it will be very difficult to be the queen. Back then I could not imagine how difficult it would be. But I believe that you are the one chosen to lead us during these hard times.”

  He stood, bowed, said, “Your Majesty,” and left my study.

  I examined the photographs, drawings, and reports. Everything he said was true. It was clear that we were far behind the rest of the world. I set the papers down and closed my eyes. I imagined Korea with the inventions I saw in the photographs—factories run on electricity, telegraph lines crossing the peninsula. I pictured Seoul filled with tall buildings with lifts on steel ropes. I saw a powerful army with iron ships and cannons that could reach great distances. And I knew what we had to do. We had to negotiate trade deals to acquire the new technology. We had to accept foreigners on our shore with their eccentric clothing, mannerisms, and ideas. They would try to force their religions on us and change our way of life. But we needed to do it for the sake of our country, and we had to do it quickly. I had promised the clan leaders that I would not push for change. They were traditionalists—especially the powerful Ik-hyun Ch’oe—and they would fight any moves I might make to modernize. If I succeeded, we would quickly become a very different country. But at least we would still have a country.

  The biggest challenge, however, was that we would have to raise taxes. The new technologies and weapons would certainly be expensive, and we had nothing valuable to trade. We had minerals, but no way to extract them in quantities needed for trade. We had labor, but not the trained workers the West would want to employ. We had very little capital, and the only way to get it was to raise taxes.

  I shared the report with the king and told him about my plans. He agreed that we had to talk to the clan leaders about it.

  Since I had met with Empress Cixi, I encouraged the king to conduct important meetings in the throne room instead of the meeting rooms of Sajeongjeon Hall. For these meetings, I dressed in ceremonial robes with painted hems instead of my usual day-robe. I acquired a fan made from ivory with a dragon design on each leaf. I had my maids put up my hair in a way that made me look taller and more majestic. I took care to control my posture as Mister Euno had taught me so many years earlier. And that is how I, along with the king, met the clan leaders.

  The king sat high on the red throne with the gilded top, and I sat at his side when Kyung-jik led them past the massive red columns to the foot of the dais. Behind us hung the tapestry with the scene of trees and mountains, and the sun and moon in the sky. The leaders came in single file in their scholar’s white robes and black hats. They stopped and gave us an almost pious bow. There was Yun-sik Kim of the Kim clan, Chul-son Chung of the Chungs, a representative of the Lee clan, and another from the Paks. And leading them all was Ik-hyun Ch’oe. They folded themselves onto cushions and looked straight ahead.

  The king said, “Good men, I have called you here because we have something important to discuss with you. Since we have taken over the government, we have reduced your taxes and have not pursued reforms. We have appointed honest men from all clans to government positions. We have kept Westerners from our shores. We have kept our promises to you. However, I regret to say we may not be able to keep them any longer. The queen will explain.”

  I rose from the throne, careful not to stand in front of the king. The leaders kept their eyes forward, but underneath their black hats their eyes followed me. “Gentlemen,” I said, “Our king is a great leader, and I am humbled to serve him. He has asked that I share a report I received that has shaken us. And now you must hear it, too.”

  I told them what I had learned from my uncle. I told them of the great cities of San Francisco, Chicago, and Washington, DC. I told them about the tall buildings and the new factories run by electricity. I told them about the modern weapons that could kill at great distances. I showed them the photographs and drawings my uncle had brought from his trip. “It’s called the Industrial Revolution,” I said. “I have read about it, and I believe that those who embrace it will conquer those who do not. And I’m sorry to say, Japan is one that embraces it. They are far ahead of us. They already have a modern military. We must change—and quickly—or we will never be our own nation.”

  I took my place next to the king again and let my words sink in.

  Finally Chul-son Chung spoke. “Who has given you this report, Majesty?”

  “My uncle, Chul-jo Min,” I answered.

  “Ah,” he said with a simple nod, “your uncle. A Min.”

  “Yes, a Min,” I said. “And a good and true man.” Chul-son did not reply.

  Yun-sik Kim leaned forward. “Certainly, Majesties, you do not mean to embrace the West. Let them have their modern ways. We are Koreans and must remain true to who we are.”

  The king looked sideways at me indicating that I should answer. “Yes, the king and I also want to stay true to who we are. But how can we if we are a conquered nation?” Yun-sik did not reply.

  Jae-kwon Pak shook his head. “To build such a country would require raising taxes, which we cannot afford to do,” he said. “I believe our best policy is to stay away from this Industrial Revolution and keep our money.”

  “We do not want to raise taxes, either,” the king replied. “But what good is our money for if we don’t have a country?” Jae-kwon did not reply.

  Finally Ik-hyun Ch’oe cleared his throat. “I have heard on good authority that China and Japan are fighting each other. If we stay neutral, they will let us be.”

  “Master Ch’oe,” I said before the king could reply, “I have met with Empress Cixi, and she has vowed to stand by us. But we must not depend on them. We must take action for ourselves. We cannot build a wall and hide inside our country. The wind will find a way in.”

  The scholar lifted his eyes to me. “We are a country with deep roots, Majesty. If we stand fast, no matter how hard the wind blows, it cannot penetrate our soul.”

  The leaders nodded at Ik-hyun’s words.

  “Our soul,” I repeated as I returned his stare. As I looked down at the men in their white robes and black hats, I heard the spirits of Korea’s past kings and queens shouting at me. “One Korea, One Korea” they said. These men, these scholarly men, did not hear their cries. And they refused to see what was clear before their eyes. I was furious with them. As the king nervously looked on, I marched past him down the dais steps and stood directly in front of the ministers. I pointed my fan at them. “You talk of staying true to who we are, but who are we, really? What kind of nation will we be in these modern times? You say that the rest of the world will let us be. Well, they will not let us be. They are circling over us like buzzards over a dead cow. Your way would allow the buzzards to tear us apart. I will not let them! The king and I have sworn to protect our country. The spirits of our ancestors and the spirits of our children and grandchildren demand that we take action. And we will.”

  I turned to Ik-hyun Ch’oe and addressed him directly. “You, Master Ch’oe, you should know better than to bury your head in your books and let our country perish. You are not blind to this. You choose to be blind. You, who have so much to offer, should help me.”

  Ik-hyun Ch’oe addressed the king directly. “Majesty, if our situation is as dire as the queen says, you should seek the Taewŏn-gun’s help. He is more experienced in these matters.”

  And there it was. The clever Master Ch’oe was trying to play the Taewŏn-gun and me against ea
ch other for the mind of the king. With my father-in-law and me fighting, the clan leaders would have more leverage with the king and Master Ch’oe would become more powerful than he already was.

  “Kyung-jik!” I called, still staring at Ik-hyun.

  My guard came running. “Yes, Majesty,” he said.

  “Escort these men from the palace. The king does not need advice from men who cannot see.”

  As Kyung-jik led the clan leaders single file out of the throne room, I went back up the dais next to the king. His brow was furrowed and he looked at his hands. “I hope you know what you’re doing,” he said.

  TWENTY-TWO

  Over the next several years, the king and I did exactly what I told the clan leaders we would do. I convinced Gojong to raise taxes to build a modern army and acquire new technology. We established government bureaus to deal with foreign relations with the West, China, and Japan. We started a department to import Western goods. We created a bureau of the military to modernize our weapons and strategies, and even invited the Japanese, Chinese, and Americans to help train our army. We had the mint create and distribute new coins to stabilize our currency so we could trade with other nations more efficiently.

  And it worked. Within only a few years, our economy started to grow. The chungin was opening successful businesses and trading with the West. Nations began to invest in Korea. New technologies like bicycles and photography started to creep in. Throughout the country, people were fascinated with all the new inventions from the West.

  I was proud of what the king and I had done for our country. Korea was on its way to becoming an independent nation. We were on our way to being One Korea.

  But there were problems, too. In the new order, the yangban were losing their status at the top of society. Their initial complaints grew into outright defiance, and they threatened to overthrow the palace. The scholars feared that they were losing control of the country’s soul because Christian missionaries crossed the peninsula, spreading their beliefs to Koreans eager to learn about the West. The foreigners introduced peculiar foods and clothing, dubious medicines, and strange ways of thinking. Some of my countrymen embraced the changes while others opposed them. Clans and classes still argued with each other, and their feuds were becoming deadly. I had expected that my reforms would cause problems, but I hadn’t expected the problems to be this severe. It felt like my plans were falling apart. Nevertheless, I believed that I had us pointed in the right direction.

  During these days, I became pregnant again. As my belly grew, I worried, and I prayed that this time I would deliver a healthy son for my husband and my country. I didn’t have the morning sickness this time around, and I felt good throughout the pregnancy. I was careful to do exactly what the doctor instructed. I cut back my work schedule and let Han-sook pamper me as only she could. I ordered monks to pray for my baby. I had shamans make charms for my bedchamber and say chants to chase away evil spirits. Every day I drank ginseng tea, and at night Han-sook burned amber to help me and the baby inside me sleep.

  My belly grew large, and then one day in early spring, I delivered a baby boy. When the doctor declared that he was healthy and strong, both Han-sook and I cried. When the doctor gave him to me, I held him close and was grateful to feel his little legs kick. He looked up at me and pursed his lips into a most dramatic pout. Then he pushed out a cry befitting a child twice his size. I put him to my breast and he sucked greedily. I immediately loved him as I had loved my first, sickly son. I named him Sun-jong—“rising dragon”—and I vowed that someday he would be king.

  Naturally, Gojong was pleased that his lawful wife—and not just one of his consorts—had given him a son. So when my son grew into a toddler who ran around Gyeongbok as if the entire palace was his playground, I convinced Gojong to declare Sun-jong Korea’s true crown prince and to remove the title the Taewŏn-gun had given to Gwi-in’s son. And when he did, I stripped Gwi-in of her title as princess consort and banished her and her son to a small, cold village in the north.

  One summer morning, I watched as my son played with his toy sailboat in the lake surrounding the Hyangwonjeong island pavilion. I held my young crown prince’s slippers as he waded in the water. I delighted in watching Sun-jong play. He was full of life and curious about everything. His boat was a birthday gift from Emperor Alexander II of Russia. It was blue and had three sails and a toy cannon on the foredeck that Sun-jong pretended to shoot at pirates. “Boom! Boom!” Sun-jong said.

  As my son played, Kyung-jik came marching toward me from the other side of the lake. His square jaw was set as he bowed. “Majesty,” he said, “there has been a development with the Japanese. The king requests your presence in Sajeongjeon Hall immediately. He has assembled the ministers.”

  I waved to Sun-jong’s nurse who was a few steps away. I gave her my son’s slippers. “Let the boy play a little longer, then take him to his quarters to rest,” I said.

  “Yes, Majesty,” she said, and assumed a position next to the prince.

  As Kyung-jik and I crossed the central courtyard toward Sajeongjeon Hall, I asked, “What is happening with the Japanese?”

  “They have gunboats at Ganghwa Island,” he answered.

  I wasn’t surprised at this. I had believed that modernizing would help us stand up to other nations. But as I feared it might, it had exposed us, too. Once the foreigners started to do business with us, they coveted our country. They saw the potential in our land and in our untapped labor. But mostly, they looked at the maps as Empress Cixi had said, and saw that our peninsula was strategically important to anyone who wanted to rule Asia.

  And no country was more covetous of us than the Japanese. They were one hundred miles from our coast and far ahead in modernizing their nation. They had their eyes on us, and now they had gunboats at Ganghwa Island at the mouth of the Han River.

  I hurried into the meeting room with the long, low table. Gojong sat on his high cushion and the ministers talked in hushed tones in their places around the table. They were all there, except Minister Kim, whose place was empty. Gojong’s brow was furrowed and he bit his thumbnail. When I came in, he quickly motioned me to sit next to him. As I sat, the room went silent.

  “My guard tells me the Japanese have gunboats at Ganghwa Island,” I said. “What do they want?”

  The foreign affairs minister held out some papers. “They demand that we sign this trade agreement, Majesty.”

  “Let me see it,” I said, and the minister gave it to me. It was an unequal treaty like the ones that Westerners had forced on Asian nations for decades. It stipulated that Japan would be able to sell their goods to us without tariffs while we would pay stiff tariffs on everything we sold to them. It further stated that the Japanese had the right to be in our country whenever and wherever they pleased, and that while here, they were exempt from our laws. Our people, however, would not have the same rights in Japan. They also demanded payments from us for past wars’ “injury.” In essence, the treaty, if it could be called a treaty, was the first step in giving the Japanese control over our country.

  I pushed the papers back to the minister. “What will they do if we do not agree?”

  “They say that they will force it upon us, Majesty,” the minister said.

  Gojong looked at me. “We don’t want war with the Japanese,” he said. “I think we should sign it.”

  I paused for a moment as the ministers waited for my reply. I tightened my jaw and said, “If we sign this, what will they demand next? They will not stop until they have complete control and we are nothing more than a Japanese colony. No! We must tell them very clearly that we do not accept this one-sided treaty.”

  Gojong shook his head. “I don’t know. My father has close relations with the Japanese. Perhaps we should ask him what to do.” Several ministers nodded in agreement.

  I looked around the table at them. I did not respect even one of them. They all had private goals that were not in line with mine. Some were probably working
for the Taewŏn-gun. Some might be spies for Empress Cixi. Others might be spies for the Japanese. The only one I could trust was Minister Kim, and he wasn’t here.

  “Where is Minister Kim?” I demanded. All the ministers kept their eyes low and didn’t answer.

  “Call my guard!” I said to the court secretary. Soon, Kyung-jik was at the door. “Find Minister Kim at once and bring him here,” I ordered.

  After Kyung-jik left to fetch Minister Kim, I said, “The rest of you, leave me with the king.” One by one, the ministers filed out of the room with bowed heads, leaving Gojong and me alone.

  As we sat on our cushions, I thought about how I would convince my husband to take a stand against the Japanese. Over the years, he had come to depend on me as we ran the country from this room. He usually agreed with what I wanted to do, and the few times we disagreed, I let him have his way. He was the king, after all, and his was the final say.

  I turned to him and said, “My husband, this is a most serious situation we are in. We must make the right decision or we could lose everything, including our crowns.”

  “My father knows the Japanese,” Gojong said. “We should consult with him.”

  “Your father?” I pushed myself up off my cushion. “Your father favors the Japanese. He will tell you to accept this treaty, and in short order, you will have to abdicate your throne to them. You are the king! And you must protect your country from the Japanese thieves. It is your duty.”

  Gojong shook his head. “If we do not sign this treaty, they will declare war. And if they win, they will kill us both.”

  “Yes, they might,” I replied. “But we are the king and queen. It is our duty to fight for our country. For the sake of our people, for the sake of our son, fight with me.”

  Gojong didn’t answer right away. Under his furrowed brow, he tried to gather the courage to take my course of action. After a few minutes, he stood and went to the door. Before he left, he turned to me and said, “Tomorrow I will go to Changdeok Palace to see if my father can negotiate a better agreement for us.”