Deoksugung

Listen first. Just beyond the stone wall, buses brake and taxis sound their horns. Office workers cross the plaza with coffee in their hands. Then you pass through the gate, and the sound drops away. Gravel shifts under your shoes. Wind moves through old trees. Somewhere ahead, painted eaves curve up against a sky full of glass towers. This is Deoksugung, a royal palace in the centre of modern Seoul.

Of the five grand palaces that Joseon kings built or used in Seoul, this one is the smallest. It is also the most unusual. The other palaces show the classical world of the Joseon dynasty, which ruled Korea for about five centuries. Deoksugung shows something else. It shows the moment when that old kingdom met the modern world. That meeting was hopeful at first, and later it was painful. Few places in Korea show that turning point so clearly.

The palace did not begin as a palace. In the fifteenth century, the site was a private residence for Prince Wolsan, an elder brother of King Seongjong. Then came the Japanese invasions of the 1590s. During that war, Seoul burned, and the main palaces were destroyed. When King Seonjo returned to the ruined capital, he had nowhere suitable to live. He moved into this compound as a temporary home. A family house became the seat of the king almost by accident.

Later, the royal court returned to the rebuilt palaces in the east of the city. This site became quieter and less important. It was known for a long time as Gyeongungung. For close to three centuries, it remained in the background. Then, at the end of the nineteenth century, it suddenly became the centre of Korean politics once again.

The man behind that change was King Gojong. In the 1890s, Korea was under pressure from Japan, China, and Russia. In 1895, Japanese agents murdered his queen, now remembered as Empress Myeongseong. Fearing for his own life, Gojong left his palace and took refuge in the Russian legation, which stood very close to this site. When he left the legation in 1897, he did not return to the older palaces. He came here instead, surrounded by the foreign embassies of the neighbourhood.

That same year, Gojong made a bold statement. He declared that Korea was no longer a kingdom. It was now the Korean Empire, and he was its emperor. The idea was simple. An emperor stands equal to the emperors of China and Japan, and not below them. For a little more than a decade, this compound was the heart of that empire. Its buildings were designed to show a country that wanted to modernise in its own way.

Walk toward the main throne hall, Junghwajeon. Notice the stone path, divided into lanes, and the rows of rank markers on either side. Officials once stood beside these markers according to their position at court. The hall you see now was rebuilt after a great fire in 1904. Here is a detail many visitors miss. Before the fire, the hall had a double roof. The rebuilt version has a single roof, which is a quiet sign of how little money and time the empire had left.

Now turn toward something unexpected. Behind the traditional halls stands Seokjojeon, a large building of pale stone with tall columns, in the European neoclassical style. Neoclassical means a style based on the temples of ancient Greece and Rome. It was completed in 1910, and a British architect worked on its design. Imagine the surprise of a visitor at that time. A Korean emperor was receiving guests in a hall that looked as if it belonged in London or Vienna. In front of it lies a formal garden with a fountain.

For many Koreans, the timing of this building is bitter. The year Seokjojeon was completed, Japan formally annexed Korea, and the empire came to an end. Three years earlier, in 1907, Japan had forced Gojong to give up the throne to his son. It was after this abdication that the palace received its current name. Deoksugung means, roughly, the palace of virtuous long life. It was a respectful name for a retired emperor who now had almost no power.

Look also for Jeonggwanheon, a small pavilion on higher ground toward the back. It mixes Western columns and railings with Korean decoration. Popular accounts say that Gojong liked to drink coffee here, and he is often described as one of the first Koreans to enjoy the drink. It is a gentle story, and it may be partly legend. Still, it fits this place well. Here, an old court tried new tastes, while the world outside it changed quickly.

Gojong spent his last years inside these walls. He died here in early 1919. Rumours spread quickly that he had been poisoned. Historians still debate those rumours, and they remain unproven. What is certain is that his funeral brought huge crowds into Seoul. Those crowds were part of the March First Movement, a nationwide protest for Korean independence. In this way, the end of an emperor's life helped to start a new chapter for the Korean people.

Before you leave, spend time at the main gate, Daehanmun. On many days, a royal guard ceremony takes place here. Guards wear bright traditional uniforms, drums sound, and the guards change in a slow, formal routine. Outside the gate, the stone wall continues along a curving lane, one of the most loved walks in the city. Locals tell a playful tale that couples who walk this road together will later break up. Many couples walk it anyway, hand in hand, and laugh about it.

Now look up from wherever you stand. Above the curved roof tiles, you can see the towers of the city. Across the street stands Seoul City Hall and its wide plaza. A palace that began as a family house, then sheltered a king in war, and then housed an emperor at the end of his empire, now sits inside a crowded modern capital. As you walk out through the gate, listen again. The traffic sound returns slowly, step by step, and the old wall stays beside you a little longer.