Century-old mansion Dilkusha turned into museum

An old photograph of Dilkusha from the Seoul History Museum exhibit in 2019. / Courtesy of Seoul History Museum

By Robert Neff

Seoul's newest museum is perched up on the hillside above Sajik Tunnel and flanked by a massive ginkgo tree in a two-story brick building known as Dilkusha. Built in 1923 by the American goldminer, businessman and journalist Albert Taylor for his wife Mary, the couple lived in the house until 1942 when they ― along with most of the Westerners living in Korea ― were deported from Korea by the Japanese.

Many people are probably unaware of the role the Taylors played in Korea's fight for independence from the 1910-45 Japanese occupation. In her book, "Chain of Amber," Mary recalled that on March 1, 1919, she had just given birth to her son Bruce at Severance Hospital and woke up to discover a Korean nurse hiding a bundle of papers beneath her baby. When Albert visited her and their infant son, he discovered the papers ― copies of the Korean Declaration of Independence ― which were then smuggled out of Korea in his brother's shoe and broadcast around the world.

Side view of Dilkusha. Albert Taylor's study where he did most of his writing is on the second floor. / Courtesy of Robert Neff

After the Taylors left Korea, Dilkusha was pretty much forgotten and neglected. Only in 2005 did its past come to light through the efforts of a Korean professor and the Taylor family. In 2015, Seoul City Government began the restoration of the building and in 2017 it was declared a national heritage site.

Jennifer Linley Taylor, granddaughter of Albert and Mary Taylor, on the first floor of Dilkusha / Courtesy of Robert Neff

At a ribbon-cutting ceremony on Feb. 26, 2021, acting Seoul Mayor Seo Jung-hyup declared the newly restored Dilkusha would be used as a place to teach the living history of the Taylor family as well as their role in Korea's independence movement.

It is a lofty goal but in my opinion the house in its present state is not a representation of the living history of the Taylor family ― it is beautifully restored but it is sterile and does not breathe history. Apparently I am not the only one who feels this way.

Jennifer Linley Taylor (Albert Taylor's granddaughter), told me her first impression of Dilkusha as she walked up the driveway was that it had been "restored to perfection, somehow almost too perfectly." She was grateful that so much time and care had been used in its restoration.

Taylor admitted, however, that the interior was somewhat disappointing. She had donated more than 1,000 items to the museum with the expectation that they would be on display, but the exhibits on Friday were sparse and lacked "the genuine feel, heart and soul of a house museum… [which] should reflect the character of its inhabitants."

"You want to feel like some things are frozen in time, that Albert and Mary might have just been there ― Mary's clothes hanging in a bedroom armoire, her easel with a painting clipped in place in a corner with some art supplies. Albert's pipe in his ashtray. His typewriter, pens and papers on his desk in his study, books on a shelf."

The living room on the second floor / Courtesy of Robert Neff

She said, "While going from room to room, I did not feel that I really got to know Albert and Mary, or connect with the historical events surrounding their lives, their life in Dilkusha, or understand their profound relationship with Korea and her people. The thread that should tell their story from each bead on Mary's amber chain is not present."

Looking towards Albert Taylor's study on the second floor / Courtesy of Robert Neff

She is correct ― there is more to the history of Dilkusha and the Taylor family than just the March First Independence Movement.

Where are the anecdotes of living in Seoul during the World Wars, the Great Depression and the Spanish Influenza? The Taylor family came to Korea at the end of the 19th century as employees of a U.S.-owned gold mining company in northern Korea ― conditions at these remote mining camps were comparable to the American Wild West. Later the Taylors started their own gold mines (the exhibit has some pictures of the last mine but doesn't really provide much information about it).

They also had other enterprises including a curio shop which sold antiques and furniture and one of the earliest car dealerships in Korea ― their ads in newspapers were of the day large and visually appealing.

The huge ginkgo tree standing next to Dilkusha is also an important part of the house's history yet, despite dominating the courtyard, seems overlooked. For hundreds of years before the house was built, locals revered this tree and associated it with great powers of fertility. Mothers, hoping to bear a son, would come and pray at the base of the tree and offer little sacrifices (coins) to it.

The 470-year-old gingko tree next to Dilkusha / Courtesy of Robert Neff

At the ribbon-cutting ceremony I didn't see any coins at the base of the tree but I did see several sassy magpies flitting about in its branches and I recalled Mary had been warned that "they must never be frightened away."

The ribbon-cutting ceremony on Feb. 26 / Courtesy of Robert Neff

The villagers had also tried dissuade the Taylors from building Dilkusha through physical force and the supernatural ― including a shaman who cursed the Westerners:

"The Spirit of the Place will be revenged. You will wither. Many evils will befall your family and your house will be consumed by fire!"

Mary scoffed at the superstitious beliefs, but later, after several strange incidents including a fire that destroyed the interior of Dilkusha in July 1926, she tried to appease the spirits she had apparently offended.

After the fire Mary wrote:

"Beautiful objects enrich our lives. It is not always necessary that we possess them permanently. I was grateful for what they have given me to while I had them. Such gifts can never be taken away, once they have become an intrinsic part of us ― part of our eternal selves."

Jennifer Linley Taylor gives her remarks at the ribbon-cutting ceremony on Feb. 26. / Courtesy of Robert Neff

It seems fitting that Jennifer used the above quote in her remarks at the ribbon-cutting ceremony. She later told me, "It's not about preserving the relics and memories in boxes somewhere [but] to keep these things alive and above all visible, and not treat them too preciously."

Hopefully, in the near future, more items will be placed on display and Dilkusha ― brought back to life ― will be allowed to once again breathe the past.

Reservations must be made to visit Dilkusha between Tuesday and Sunday through yeyak.seoul.go.kr or by phone at 070-4126-8853.