Queen-consort Inhyŏn, wife of King Sukchong, nineteenth king of the Yi dynasty, was daughter of the Minister of Defence, Min Yu-jung, and granddaughter of the Chief Minister of State, Song Chun-gil.
It was said that her mother, Lady Song, had a strange dream while pregnant, and at last on the twenty-third day of the fourth moon of 1667 she gave birth. Auspicious signs accompanied this birth, and the room in which the child was born was filled with aromatic fragrance. The incident was so extraordinary that her parents forbade the members and servants of the family ever to speak of it.
The child grew up to be an unusually talented and exceptionally beautiful young lady. Her skill in weaving, her every movement, were aided, it seemed, by a host of spirits, but she never took pride in her achievements. Her conduct and bearing were so composed that no one could sense her emotional stresses.
In her retiring disposition, brilliant virtues, outstanding fidelity and modest nature, she was a model young lady. Sitting serenely in her chamber, she emanated the warmth of spring sunshine. Her graceful movements inspired such lofty and awesome feelings that those who saw her were reminded of a spray of plum-blossom in the snow and filled with the reverence experienced when suddenly finding oneself in a grove of evergreens under a bleak sky. Thus the love of her parents was redoubled, and the admiration of her kindred near and far grew till her fair name was gradually known to the world.
Her father once observed rainbow-like shimmers over her washbowl. This so convinced him that she was destined to become high and noble that he paid particular attention to her upbringing and education. Her uncle, Min Chong-jung, a renowned Confucian scholar, became extremely fond of her despite his austere personality and was said to have remarked: ‘She is endowed with unusual gifts, natural gifts that can never deteriorate; but the excessively rare quality of such a person is apt to call forth the envy of evil spirits. She is very, very beautiful and sagacious; but I fear that she may have only a short life.’
She lost her mother early, but during the whole of the long period of formal mourning she punctiliously performed every filial duty that etiquette demanded of her; and to the surprise and admiration of all around her, she was equally filial to her stepmother, Lady Cho. When her maternal grandfather Song Chun-gil was very ill, he used to enjoy her company. On these occasions he taught her the ways of saintly scholars and the manners and conduct of a lady, saying that she already had the makings of a royal consort such as T’ai-jen or T’ai-ssu. Such additional instruction, provided by the foremost families in the country, greatly strengthened her innate virtues.
In the winter of 1680 Queen In’gyŏng passed away. The lack of a royal consort worried the queen mother and she ordered that arrangements be made for the selection of a suitable successor. Kim U-myŏng, maternal grandfather of King Sukchong, had heard of the virtuous Lady Min, and at this time spoke to the queen mother about her. At the same time the Chief Minister of State, Song Chun-gil, gave his opinion to the king: ‘A queen consort is the mother of all her subjects. I, your faithful subject, know that Your Majesty’s Defence Minister has a daughter of exceptional wisdom and virtue. I pray that Your Majesty will choose her as the royal spouse and thereby avoid the troublesome procedure of selection.’
To the happiness of the queen mother, the king consented to this arrangement. At once she sent a royal order to Minister Min describing the situation and urging him to proceed with the necessary preparations. The awe-struck minister immediately submitted a memorial declining the honor. The king, however, was quite resolved. After three such memorials had been submitted, a strict royal order was issued reproving the minister: his repeated refusals went beyond the bounds of normal courtesy and any further refusal would be deemed insubordination. The king also called Min Chong-jung, Second Minister of State, to the palace and through him reprimanded the Min family for their disrespect. Thus it became impossible to decline again, and at the ensuing family meeting the Min clan decided to accept the royal directive. They were moved to loyal tears by the greatness of the royal benevolence and favor.
A party of court ladies and eunuchs was sent to wait upon the future queen consort at her home in Ŏŭi-dong, and the chief lady-in-waiting, in accordance with the king’s wish, begged for an audience with her. After the audience the court lady, filled with admiration, reverently said to the girl’s stepmother: ‘By the king’s favor I have had the honor of serving three generations of queens in the palace. I have also had the opportunity of being in contact with more than eighty ladies of noble birth. But I swear, Your Highness, that I have never met a lady of such holy and beautiful countenance as our future queen. With your permission, I should like to say that she will bring great good fortune to the state. It will be a privilege for me to serve her. I have been amply rewarded in having lived so long.’
To this the stepmother replied with such modesty, humility and dignity that the court lady was deeply moved. On returning to the palace she related the scene to the queen mother. The queen mother was pleased to hear all this, and it was said that she openly showed her eagerness for the day of the royal nuptials.
Finally the day of the wedding came. Officiating at the grand ritual, in dignified and stately attire, was Min Yu-jung, father of the new queen. The nineteen-year-old king, attended by high civil and military officials, went to the Ŏŭi-dong mansion where the bride was waiting. There he presented the geese, then urged the queen’s palanquin-bearers to return to the palace for the second half of the ceremony. He himself saw to sealing the door of the gold-adorned vehicle. Most royal weddings are of crown princes, but this was the wedding of the king himself and accordingly the ceremony was most magnificent. The royal colors with images of the dragon and phoenix, along with banners, golden halberds and battle-axes, all signifying sovereign power, fluttered in the air at the head of the procession; solemn-faced officials and court ladies and ladies-in-waiting escorting the procession in colorfully ornate dresses formed a line that extended several miles; burning incense and stately tunes of court music filled the air. The grandeur of the wedding truly defied description. All who lived in the capital turned out to rejoice and pray for the long life of the royal family.
The ceremony closed with the exchange of cups of wine in the palace. The new queen consort’s manners were exceedingly graceful. It was as if her whole being radiated light, like the full moon in autumn, and this light, lucid and soft, filled the royal palace, richly embossed in gold, and bedimmed its brilliance and that of all the other precious treasures there displayed. Thus the hearts of all who witnessed the ceremony swelled with rapturous admiration. Above all, immeasurable was the delight of the queen mother and the queen dowager.
Another ceremony the same day enthroned her formally as queen consort. After that she gave audience to the ladies and princesses of the royal family and the three hundred ladies-in-waiting. The weather was exceptionally fine; refreshing breezes carried auspicious cloudlets over the royal palace, to make a day truly in accord with the blissful occasion. The official enthronement affected the people strangely, and their jubilant voices chanting blessings of peace were heard throughout the length and breadth of the land.
After the accession, the queen’s performance of her filial duty to the queen mother and queen dowager was impeccable. In managing the palace affairs, her guiding principle was benevolence. In directing the ladies and maids in the palace, she balanced dignity and lucidity with affection and grace, never allowing herself to handle matters with partiality. Because of her love of mankind, peace and harmony reigned over the palace and consequently extended over all the land.
Her solemn deportment and perfect decorum dazzled the court ladies. All in the palace adored and respected her. By her example she caused the general manners in the palace to improve greatly, and within three months a complete transformation of the atmosphere could be felt. This pleased the queen mother and the queen dowager as well as the king and everyone in and out of the court. The queen mother composed a letter commending the merits of the queen consort and sent it to Song Si-yŏl, First Lord of the Advisory Council. She also wrote letters graciously praising the king’s mother-in-law for raising such a virtuous daughter, and sent royal gifts to her. The Min family were overwhelmed by these august favors.
During the winter of 1683 the king contracted smallpox, and at times his condition was critical. The queen consort nursed him, denying herself food, sleep, change of dress and all personal comforts. The queen mother also was distressed. Together they bathed in cold water and, at a little shrine in a corner of the back garden of the palace, prayed day and night for the swift recovery of the king. The queen consort, apprehensive for the queen mother’s health, implored that she be allowed to perform the devotions alone, but the queen mother would not comply. Perhaps Heaven was moved by their faith and devotion, for the king recovered. In and out of the palace, happiness overflowed.
However, the queen mother by nursing him and performing acts of devotion had exhausted herself during the king’s illness. She herself fell ill. Now the king and queen cared for her night and day, anxious to see her recover. They even prepared herb medicines themselves, personally waiting on her in her sick-room, but despite their efforts and devotion, her health deteriorated rapidly. In desperation the king sent a prayer-party of cabinet ministers to the Chong-myo, the shrine of the royal ancestors, and as a votive offering to Heaven he proclaimed an official amnesty for all prisoners throughout the land. At the same time he brought all the best doctors to the palace to tend the queen mother. All was in vain. It is impossible to describe the anxiety of the royal family and the whole nation. Deep gloom covered the land.
Very early in the morning of the fifth day of the last moon, the queen mother passed away in the Chŏsŭng Hall of the Ch’anggyŏng Palace at the age of forty-one. Again the people were deeply moved, and the sound of wailing rose to heaven. The king and queen mourned with inconsolable grief, refusing all food, and earning the deep admiration of the court for their exemplary filial piety. So they continued for three years to carry out the ceremonies for the dead queen.
A lady named Chang who had at first been appointed as one of the court maids was given the rank of a titled royal concubine, and became Chang Hŭibin. She was a crafty girl, and did all she could to attract the king’s attention and win his favor. When the lunar year 1688 began, the king’s age was approaching thirty by the traditional method of counting, but he still had no son and was obviously worried. Queen lnhyŏn shared his distress, and one day quietly suggested to him that he should select a good girl from among the palace women and try to have a son by her to carry on the royal line. At first the king refused; but the queen daily pressed him on the matter, hoping for a suitable woman to be found, and it was clear from her earnest concern about the succession that she was sincere in her request.
Eventually the king yielded and issued an edict requiring a suitable girl to be chosen from among the palace women. This edict greatly shocked his sister, Princess Myŏng’an, who immediately went to the palace with her aunt, Princess Taejang, and requested an audience with the king and queen.
‘By your leave, we think that Your Majesty will do well to wait and not to choose a concubine at present. The queen is still young,’ said the princess.
‘Princess, I am truly grateful for your interest. But ever since I became the royal consort, my one concern has been to repay this undeserved royal favor. Because of my lack of virtue, I have not been able to bear His Majesty a child. The perpetuation of the royal line must take precedence over all other considerations.’
The queen’s countenance remained clear and serene as she spoke. Her manner convinced the princess that she was truly concerned with the well-being of the royal family. The queen’s firm and resolute attitude compelled them to give up any further expostulation, and they left the palace with even deeper admiration for her unselfish loyalty to the throne. They spoke to each other of how they now understood the late queen mother’s fondness for her.
Eventually Lady Kim was chosen to bear a royal child. The queen consort treated her warmly and honorably, as she did any other lady of high position in the palace. For her virtuous demeanor the queen was deeply respected; but alas, the wheel of fortune seemed to turn unfavorably for her. The old saying that the beautiful and the saintly are often visited by misfortune is appropriate, for the wheel of fortune turns independently of what man may wish or do. Is this not why people often doubt or blame the way of Heaven?
In the eighth moon of 1688, the queen dowager of the former King Injo passed away in the Ch’anggyŏng Palace at the age of sixty- three. So greatly did the king and queen feel their loss that the ceremonies, morning and evening, appeared almost excessive.
Then, in the tenth moon, it was Lady Chang who bore a prince. The king was overjoyed, and the queen loved the child as though he were her own. Because of the queen’s love, if Lady Chang had realized her rightful place and behaved discreetly, she could have enjoyed all the riches and glory properly due to the mother of a prince. She began, however, to entertain the preposterous and impudent idea of usurping the consortship. She was jealous of the high reputation for virtue and beauty the queen enjoyed. Greed for power knows no end; once gripped by the idea of usurpation, her mind was wholly preoccupied with evil scheming. Whenever she found an opportunity, she falsely accused the queen. Thus, the king heard from her that the queen and her hirelings had made attempts to poison the new-born prince. He heard that the queen had hired shamanesses to curse Lady Chang with vile imprecations. In no time, Lady Chang succeeded in soliciting assistance from some evil-minded court ladies. Together, they spread more and more vicious rumors, even going so far as to plant false evidence for the king to discover. The old saying that the evil one never lacks friends must indeed be true, for this is exactly how it was in the royal palace.
In the beginning, the king lightly dismissed the accusations, but as time went on and the reports of the queen’s alleged evil-doings increased, he began to wonder, to suspect, and then to denounce and hate her. Lady Chang ruthlessly pursued her goal, weakening the king’s power of reason with her evil coquetry.
A powerful weapon in Lady Chang’s hands was her son, the prince, because the king’s love for Lady Chang and his first son made him an easy victim of her plotting. He who had once possessed a lucid and sagacious mind was now unable to discriminate between right and wrong. One by one, treacherous men replaced the upright and virtuous high-ranking officials. This continued to such an extent that it became a matter of serious concern for noteworthy persons at court. Already the queen realized that some day Lady Chang would be the cause of some terrible catastrophe, but because she was aware that the lady was the mother of a prince, she never allowed her virtuous and sincere demeanor to be overcome by dismay.
The following year, 1689, the queen’s father, Min Yu-jung, passed away. She mourned his death and abstained from meat and other delicacies. It was about this time that the king’s feelings against the queen intensified. Although he did not speak openly, he seemed to have made up his mind; a rumor ran wild among the people that the king was going to dethrone the queen consort.
The twenty-third day of the fourth moon was the queen’s birthday. It was customary on this occasion for the various palaces in Seoul and the Royal Household Office to submit lists of complimentary tribute to the royal family. However, the king brushed the lists aside and commanded that all the food for the banquet be removed. Instead, he gathered all the ministers and officials of rank above the second degree in the audience hall and announced his decision to dethrone the queen consort.
Yi Si-man, the second royal secretary, immediately spoke against the king’s decision. This provoked the king to remove him from his post. Then Yi Man-wŏn, sixth counsellor in the Office of Documents, argued further against the decision. The king was angry and ordered that he be sent into exile. This continued until nearly forty ministers and high officials had been sentenced to exile in remote places. The king then issued an edict dethroning the queen. The court was shaken; high officials gathered in the palace to present a petition to the king in the traditionally prescribed form of protest. However, there were some who were not as unhappy about the event as they pretended to be.
The queen consort came from a prominent family and many of her relatives were men of high virtue and learning who held positions of importance at court. Since she had entered the palace, however, they had tended to be less active, so as not to incur public censure that would disgrace her and her family. As in any royal court, there were many small-minded courtiers; they were jealous of the great fame of the Min family, and lost no time in taking advantage of the change in the royal family. Slanders against the Min clan spread unchecked within the court, and the king’s wisdom was betrayed by this malicious talk. What good could the pleas of loyal subjects effect under such circumstances?
Pak T’ae-bo, fourth-grade counsellor in the Office of Documents, felt compelled to correct the situation. He had held office in the Board of Rites, but was no longer entitled to present the matter before the king in the audience hall. He therefore sent out a circular among the ministry officials urging them to join in submitting a memorial to the throne. Pak himself composed the memorial, and those who supported it signed. Ex-Minister O Tu-in, because of his high rank, acted as representative of this petitioning group. They presented the memorial at court and waited kneeling before the main gate of the palace for the king’s reply. The king, roused to anger by their action, immediately issued an order to form a special court of inquisition over which he himself would preside. Orders were given to the ministers and other high-ranking officials to assemble at the palace. Attended by royal guards, court ladies and eunuchs, the king proceeded to the audience hall to take his place on the throne. Thus, suddenly, uncommon agitation stirred within the palace. Flaming pine torches moved confusedly in every direction.
Since it was already dark, many who had signed the memorial had gone home. O Tu-in, the chief petitioner, ex-minister Yi Se-hwa, ex-vice-minister Sin Su-rang, magistrate of Chinju county Yi Ton-gyŏng, Pak T’ae-bo, ex-compilator Kim Chong-sin, ex-clerk in the royal secretariat Yi In-yŏp and a few others remained in front of the palace waiting for the king’s reply. They surmised from the disturbance and noise that came from the palace that a court of inquisition was being set up. One of them said: ‘This can only mean that we are going to be punished.’ All of them except Pak T’ae-bo silently trembled in fear.
‘Gentlemen, did we not expect death when we signed? If so, why should we worry now?’ said Pak, undisturbed.
After Pak had spoken, ex-vice-minister Sin Su-rang stepped up to O Tu-in and asked whether it would not be to their advantage to prepare answers to give should they be called upon to speak. Pak, interrupting, said to O:
‘Sir, I presume they will call you in alone first, since you are the chief petitioner. Should that happen, tell them the truth and say that I alone am responsible for writing the memorial.’
‘How can I tell them that?’ said the ex-minister.
‘We all know that it is the truth, and the first duty of a loyal subject is not to deceive the king,’ declared Pak.
A little later, a group of royal guards, led by their commander, hastened toward them, their way lit by four pine-torches.
The commander loudly demanded, ‘Is the chief petitioner O Tu-in here?’
‘I am here,’ replied the ex-minister.
As the guards put the ex-minister in a cangue and led him away, Pak once again appealed to him. ‘Nothing is better than truth. I wrote the memorial entirely by myself. Tell them so. Otherwise, sir, too many of us may be hurt.’
The guards returned later and called next for Yi Se-hwa and Yu Hyŏn. Yi was led away in a cangue, but Yu Hyŏn was sick, and was arrested at his house.
After a while, the guards came running out again and asked, ‘Which of you wrote the memorial?’
‘I did,’ answered Pak T’ae-bo calmly. He removed his horse-hair headgear and handed it to his servant, together with his bamboo tobacco-pipe, saying, ‘Give these to my mother.’ He was put in a cangue and, as the guards were about to lead him away, Yi In-yŏp and the others held him by the sleeve and said: ‘Why are you trying to take all the blame on yourself without consulting us?’
‘I have already made up my mind, and there is no need to discuss it,’ replied Pak T’ae-bo with a spirited smile.
‘You did not write that memorial entirely by yourself,’ contended Yi In-yŏp. ‘We all took part in it.’
‘It is not so. I alone conceived and composed it. Why should you or anyone else share the punishment when I alone am responsible? Should the penalty be death, I will meet it alone,’ said Pak T’ae-bo, and again smiled bravely. He quickened his steps, urging the guards to hurry. From behind him, Yi Ton-gyŏng called out:
‘Why do you hurry as though going to a place of pleasure?’
Turning back, Pak T’ae-bo simply replied, ‘My mind is made up. What should I gain by tarrying?’ Then he quickly made his way into the palace.
When Pak found himself outside the audience hall, which was now the place of trial, only Yi Se-hwa was kneeling there outside on the ground. O Tu-in had already been called inside. As Pak knelt down, Yi Se-hwa said to him:
‘Listen well. Minister O and I are old men, and thanks to His Majesty’s grace we have enjoyed both rank and honor. So should we die now we have nothing to regret. But you are still young, and have a wife and children as well as parents to look after. And because of your relatively low official position, one can say that you are less indebted than we are to the country and His Majesty. If you go in and tell them what I think you are planning to say, the penalty will surely be death. Therefore I urge you to reconsider things, and let us who are old take the blame.’
‘How can you say such things, sir?’ replied Pak T’ae-bo, holding the cangue with one hand; ‘Are you trying to tell me what to say? Even though the price of being a loyal subject may be death, I cannot go against the truth.’
At last it was Pak’s turn to be called into the place of trial. As he lay prostrate before the throne, the king spoke out angrily:
‘I have long been as fond of you as if you were my own offspring. How do you dare do this to me now? What good do you see in allying yourself with this wicked woman? You must know it can lead only to your death.’
‘Your Majesty, I cannot comprehend your words. It is said that the relationship between a king and his subject is like that between father and son. Should the father of a family wish to turn the mother out of the home without good reason, what must the feelings of the son be? Now Your Majesty is going to sever relationship with Her Majesty the queen consort without proper reason. Thus I, your humble subject, have made up my mind to submit this memorial to the throne, and die. Far from wishing to be treasonable, I was prompted to write the memorial out of concern for the welfare of the state and the royal household. Is not loyalty to Her Majesty the queen also a way of giving allegiance to the king?’
Pak’s words incensed the king. ‘Tie up the prisoner! How dare you insult me thus? Flog him first, and in the meantime, executioners, have the knee-crushing implement and the branding-irons made ready.’
‘Your Majesty, if I am to be punished for the memorial I composed, please grant me leave to speak to you about it first,’ said Pak. Then he recited the first two paragraphs of the memorial by heart and gave a phrase-by-phrase explanation. ‘Even in a commoner’s household, peace within the family is broken if the husband favors the concubine. There has been a rumor that Your Majesty has been unwisely swayed by a royal concubine. Now I see that it is true, for the recent royal decision to dethrone the queen proves it.’
‘Do you still defy me? Do you imply that I am so indiscreet as to judge matters of state by what a concubine says? Do you accuse me of being a lunatic?’ raged the king. He commanded the chief executioner to flog the prisoner. Pak’s knees were bound with an iron chain, and the flogging began. As it continued, the cruel shouting of the king’s secretaries: ‘Flog him harder!’ and the sound of the executioners relaying and repeating the royal commands echoed in the dark sky above the palace walls.
Blood from Pak’s torn flesh spattered on the ground, but he never uttered so much as a groan nor lost his composure. Seeing that it was like flogging a piece of wood, the king became still more angry:
‘Will you persist in hiding the names of those who share this guilt with you by insisting that you alone wrote this document? You know that the clerk Hong Ch’i-sang has just been hanged because he refused to disclose the names of those who took part in his crime, do you not?’
‘Your Majesty, how is it that my true intention is not yet understood? Hong Ch’i-sang was pursuing only his own interests. In my memorial, on the contrary, I tried to reflect public opinion, and the two things are not comparable.’
‘How can a man be so obstinate for the sake of an evil and cunning woman?’ cried the king.
Clearing his throat, Pak replied: ‘The ancient sages have written that the greatest of all human relationships is that between a man and his wife. That is why even the lowly consider faith and justice the two most important principles where man and wife are concerned. Your Majesty, I beg that you will be reasonable and heed the words of the sages of old.’
‘Impudence and insolence,’ roared the king. ‘Stop preaching and confess your crime. Relate what part you played in this conspiracy!’
‘I understand that Your Majesty has recently devoted many hours of study to the Book of Changes. How is it then that Your Majesty does not yet understand the laws of the universe? Never did I hear a critical word said against Her Majesty the queen consort before the late queen mother passed away. On the contrary, I remember only words of praise and eulogy. Great changes have taken place since the birth of the prince. Your actions that violate the moral law—unjust persecution of a good person—will be subject to censure.’
In his fury, the king was unable at first to speak coherently. ‘How dare you? Limit your words and speak only of the conspiracy! Executioners, apply the knee-crusher and brand the prisoner. Begin by branding his mouth that speaks with such impudence.’
However, even the executioners could not carry out this last command. Holding the iron to the side, they pretended to brand his mouth. Meanwhile the harsh royal command, ‘Harder!’ could be ceaselessly heard.
Pak never groaned, though his whole body was soon mangled and his clothes so bloody that one could wring the blood out like water. As the king ordered more weight to be applied to the knee-crusher, Pak spoke:
‘Nothing, Your Majesty, would make any difference now, for I am resolved to die; I am only sorry that because of me, men will one day call Your Majesty a cruel tyrant.’
‘Even if they do, why should you care?’
‘How can Your Majesty ask that? A loyal subject is a firm pillar of the state. He must identify himself with the state. That is why I grieve.’
‘Save your breath! Crush the prisoner’s knees! Why have you stopped?’ And he said to the scribe, ‘Do not record what Pak T’ae-bo has just said.’
The knee-crushing went on. Two large bags full of rocks went into the instrument, and three soldiers added their weight. The night air carried the roars of the soldiers marking time and the voices of the investigators demanding that the crime be confessed. Pak, calm, never uttered a cry of pain.
‘He is tough as well as wicked,’ said the king. ‘It is no wonder he has contemplated such evil, and plotted against me. Pak T’ae-bo, are you never going to confess your wrong-doings and give the names of your co-conspirators? I noticed that in your writing you referred to the queen’s dream. What do you know about that?’
‘I wrote sincerely of what has been my deepest concern,’ Pak replied. ‘And I have nothing to confess, for I have plotted with no one. As for the queen’s dream, it is true that I wrote of it in the memorial. Where could I hear of such things? I read of it nowhere but in Your Majesty’s own royal writ.’
‘Do you now insinuate that I am a liar?’
‘I am not well-acquainted with the life of the royal family, Your Majesty,’ Pak continued, ‘but dreams are dreams and have no fundamental relationship with reality. Therefore, to persecute Her Majesty the queen for having related a dream to Your Majesty is utterly unreasonable. Talking about a dream is no crime. I have often heard you speak of your own dreams.’
‘You call me a liar? Are you saying all this because that evil woman and the members of her family belong to the same political faction as you do?’ stormed the king.
‘Twelve years have passed since I entered government service. I have never curried favor with anybody, nor sought higher office by joining a political faction. The memorial I wrote reflects the opinion, not of a group, but of the whole country. That is why I have protested, though at the risk of my life. I pray you to reconsider what is happening. If a father proposed to turn out the mother of his family without good reasons, would not the son do w