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. [Illustration: EMPRESS’S TOMB]