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Title: In Korea with Marquis Ito
Author: George Trumbull Ladd
Release date: February 29, 2024 [eBook #73071]
Language: English
Original publication: United States: Charles Scribner's Sons, 1908
Credits: Peter Becker and the Online Distributed Proofreading Team at https://www.pgdp.net (This file was produced from images generously made available by The Internet Archive)
*** START OF THE PROJECT GUTENBERG EBOOK IN KOREA WITH MARQUIS ITO ***
IN KOREA WITH MARQUIS ITO
[Illustration: Marquis Ito]
IN KOREA
WITH
MARQUIS ITO
PART I
A NARRATIVE OF PERSONAL EXPERIENCES
PART II
A CRITICAL AND HISTORICAL INQUIRY
BY
GEORGE TRUMBULL LADD, LL.D.
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
NEW YORK: 1908
Copyright, 1908, by
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
Published February, 1908
[Illustration]
TO THE DEAR COMPANION OF ITS EXPERIENCES
AND THE READY SCRIBE OF MUCH OF ITS MANUSCRIPT
THIS BOOK IS GRATEFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
PREFACE
The contents and purposes of this volume may be conveniently classified
under three heads; for here are statements of fact, expressions of
opinion, and certain ventures into the realm of conjecture. The
statements of fact are, almost without exception, made on grounds of
personal observation, or on the authority of the most competent and
trustworthy first-hand witnesses. For the earlier periods of the history
of the relations, friendly or hostile, between Japan and Korea, these
authorities are indeed no longer living, and they cannot be subjected to
cross-questioning. But the choice between the truth they told and the
mistakes and falsehoods of a contradictory character is in most cases not
difficult to make. For events of the present generation the reader will
find the statements of the witnesses quoted, and of the documents cited,
to be in general unimpeachable. I believe, then, that what is claimed to
be truth of fact in this book is as nearly exact and worthy of implicit
confidence as it is ordinarily given to human beings to be in matters
pertaining to the history of human affairs.
In expressing my own opinions as to the truth or untruth of certain
contentions, and as to the merit or demerit of certain transactions, I
have uniformly tried to base these opinions upon the fullest obtainable
knowledge of the facts. In some cases the judgments at which I have been
compelled to arrive contradict those which have been and still are widely
current; in some cases they can scarcely fail to be interpreted as an
impeachment of other writers who have had either a narrator’s interest
only in the same events or even a more substantial concernment. I have no
wish to deny the apologetic character of this book. But at every point
the charge of being swerved from the truth by prejudice may be met with
these replies: First, very unusual opportunities were afforded the author
for ascertaining the truth; and, second, in almost every case where the
evidence brought forward seems insufficient there is much more of the
same sort of evidence already in his possession, and still more to be
had for the asking. But in these days one must limit the size of such
undertakings. Few readers wish to wade through a long stretch of shoals
in order to reach the firm ground of historical verity.
As to the ventures at conjecture which are sparingly put forth, let them
be rated at their seeming worth, after the facts have been carefully
studied and the opinions weighed, which have called out these ventures.
They are confessedly only entitled to a claim for a certain degree,
higher or lower, of probability. The status of all things in the Far
East—and for the matter of that, all over the civilized world—is just
now so unstable and loaded with uncertainties that no human insight can
penetrate to the centre of the forces at work, and no human foresight can
look far into the future.
The division of the book into two parts may seem at first sight to injure
its unity. Such a division has for its result, as a matter of course,
a somewhat abrupt change in the character of the material employed and
in the style of its handling. The First Part is a narrative of personal
observations and experiences. It gives the results, however, of a
serious study of a complicated situation; and it pronounces more or less
confident judgments upon a number of subordinate questions involved
in the general problem of establishing satisfactory relations between
two nations which are inseparably bound together—physically, socially,
politically—whether for the weal or for the woe of both. In the Second
Part the attempt is made to submit these judgments to the tests of
history. But what _is_ history? Of no other civilized country than
Korea is the truth of the cynical saying more obvious that much of what
has been written as history is lies, and that most of real history is
unwritten. All of which has tended to make the writer duly appreciate the
unspeakable advantage of having access to authentic information which,
for diplomatic and other sufficient reasons, has not hitherto been made
public.
The underlying literary and logical unity which binds together the two
seemingly diverse Parts of the one book is made clear by stating in
general terms the problem upon which it aims to throw light. This problem
concerns the relations to be established between Japan and Korea—a
question which has for centuries been proposed in various imperative and
even affective ways to both these nations. It is also a question which
has several times disturbed greatly the entire Orient, and the recent
phases of which have come near to upsetting the expectations and more
deliberate plans of the entire civilized world. To lay the foundations,
under greatly and suddenly changed conditions, of a satisfactory
and permanent peace, one of the greatest statesmen of the Orient is
giving—with all his mind and heart—the later years of his eventful
life. I hope that this book may make its readers know somewhat better
what the problem has been and is; and what Prince Ito, as Japanese
Resident-General in Korea, is trying to accomplish for its solution.
It remains for the Preface only to acknowledge the author’s obligations.
These are so special to one person—namely, Mr. D. W. Stevens, who has
been for some time official “Adviser to the Korean Council of State
and Counsellor to the Resident-General”—that without his generous and
painstaking assistance in varied ways the Second Part of the book
could never have appeared in its present form. It is hoped that this
general acknowledgment will serve to cover many cases where Mr. Stevens’
name is not especially mentioned in connection with the text. Grateful
acknowledgment is also made to Mr. Furuya, the private secretary of the
Resident-General, for his painstaking translation from the original
Japanese or Chinese official documents; to Mr. M. Zumoto, editor of
the _Seoul Press_, for varied information on many subjects; and to Dr.
George Heber Jones for facts and suggestions imparted in conversation
and embodied in writings of his. My obligations to the Resident-General
himself, for the perfectly untrammelled and unprejudiced opportunity,
with its complete freedom to ask all manner of questions, which his
invitation afforded, are, I trust, sufficiently emphasized in the title
of the book. Other debts to writers upon any part of the field are
acknowledged in their proper connections.
GEORGE TRUMBULL LADD.
HAYAMA, JAPAN, _September, 1907_.
CONTENTS
CONTENTS OF PART I
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE INVITATION 1
II. FIRST GLIMPSES OF KOREA 15
III. LIFE IN SEOUL 37
IV. LIFE IN SEOUL (_Continued_) 65
V. THE VISIT TO PYENG-YANG 90
VI. CHEMULPO AND OTHER PLACES 112
VII. THE DEPARTURE 139
VIII. PERSONAL REMINISCENCES AND IMPRESSIONS 148
CONTENTS OF PART II
IX. THE PROBLEM: HISTORICAL 179
X. THE PROBLEM: HISTORICAL (_Continued_) 222
XI. THE COMPACT 252
XII. RULERS AND PEOPLE 280
XIII. RESOURCES AND FINANCE 300
XIV. EDUCATION AND THE PUBLIC JUSTICE 326
XV. FOREIGNERS AND FOREIGN RELATIONS 352
XVI. WRONGS: REAL AND FANCIED 367
XVII. MISSIONS AND MISSIONARIES 388
XVIII. JULY, 1907, AND AFTER 414
XIX. THE SOLUTION OF THE PROBLEM 444
ILLUSTRATIONS
PORTRAIT OF MARQUIS ITO _Frontispiece_
TO FACE PAGE
BIRD’S-EYE VIEW OF THE CAPITAL CITY 22
GOING TO THE LECTURE AT INDEPENDENCE HALL 52
WATER-GATE AT PYENG-YANG 100
WEST GATE OR “GATE OF GENEROUS RIGHTEOUSNESS” 132
PEONY POINT AT PYENG-YANG 184
THE TONG-KWAN TAI-KWOL PALACE 206
THE EX-EMPEROR AND PRESENT EMPEROR 284
THE HALL OF CONGRATULATIONS 306
STREET SCENE IN SEOUL 330
THE STONE-TURTLE MONUMENT 384
FUNERAL PROCESSION IN SEOUL 408
_PART I_
A NARRATIVE OF PERSONAL EXPERIENCES
CHAPTER I
THE INVITATION
It was in early August of 1906 that I left New Haven for a third visit
to Japan. Travelling by the way of the Great Lakes through Duluth and
St. Paul, after a stay of two weeks in Seattle, we took the Japanese
ship _Aki Maru_ for Yokohama, where we arrived just before the port was
closed for the night of September 20. Since this ship was making its
first trip after being released from transport service in conveying the
Japanese troops home from Manchuria, and was manned by officers who
had personal experiences of the war to narrate, the voyage was one of
uncommon interest. Captain Yagi had been in command of the transport ship
_Kinshu Maru_ when it was sunk by the Russians, off the northeastern
coast of Korea. He had then been carried to Vladivostok, and subsequently
to Russia, where he remained in prison until the end of the war. Among
the various narratives to which I listened with interest were the two
following; they are repeated here because they illustrate the code of
honor whose spirit so generally pervaded the army and navy of Japan
during their contest with their formidable enemy. It is in reliance on
the triumph of this code that those who know the nation best are hopeful
of its ability to overcome the difficulties which are being encountered
in the effort to establish a condition favorable to safety, peace, and
prosperity by a Japanese Protectorate over Korea.
At Vladivostok the American Consul pressed upon Captain Yagi a sum of
money sufficient to provide a more suitable supply of food during his
journey by rail to Russia. This kindly offer was respectfully declined
on the sentimental ground that, as an officer of Japan, he could not
honorably receive from a stranger a loan which it was altogether likely
he would never be able to repay. But when still further urged, although
he continued to decline the money, he begged only the Consul’s card,
“lest he might himself forget the name or die,” and so his Government
would be unable to acknowledge the kindness shown to one of its officers.
The card was given, sent to Tokyo, and—as the Captain supposed—the Consul
was “thanked officially.” The first officer, an Englishman, who had
been in the service of Japan on the _Aki Maru_, while it was used for
transporting troops to Manchuria and prisoners on its return, told this
equally significant story. His ship had brought to Japan as prisoner
the Russian officer second in command at the battle of Nan-san. Having
been wounded in the foot, the Russian was, after his capture, carried
for a long distance by Japanese soldiers, to whom, when they reached
the hospital tent, he offered a $20 gold-piece. But they all refused to
receive money from a wounded foe. “If it had been Russian soldiers,” said
this officer of his own countrymen, “they would not only have taken this
money but would have gone through my pockets besides.”
Before leaving home only two official invitations had been received,
namely, to lecture on Education before the teachers in the Tokyo branch
of the Imperial Educational Society; and to give a course in the Imperial
University of Kyoto, on a topic which it was afterward decided should
be the “Philosophy of Religion.” This university was to open in the
following autumn a Department of Philosophy (such a forward movement
having been delayed by the war with Russia). Almost immediately on our
arrival, a multitude of requests for courses of lectures and public
addresses came to the committee in charge of the arrangements, with
the result that the six months from October 1, 1906, to April 1, 1907,
were crowded full of interesting and enjoyable work. In the intervals
of work, however, there was opportunity left for much valuable social
intercourse and for meeting with men like Togo, Oyama, Noghi, and others
in military and business, as well as educational circles, whose names
and deeds are well known all over the civilized world. But it is not the
narrative of these six months which is before us at the present time,
although doubtless they had a somewhat important influence in securing
the opportunity and providing the preparation for the subsequent visit to
Korea.
The thought of seeing something of the “Hermit Kingdom” (a title, by
the way, which is no longer appropriate) had been in our minds before
leaving America, only as a somewhat remote possibility. Not long after
our arrival in Japan the hint was several times given by an intimate
friend, who is also in the confidence of Marquis Ito, that the latter
intended, on his return in mid-winter from Seoul, to invite us to be his
guests in his Korean residence. It was not, however, until the afternoon
of December 5 that the invitation was first received. This was at the
garden-party given by Marquis Nabeshima on his sixty-first birthday. It
should be explained that every Japanese is born under one of the twelve
signs—corresponding to our signs of the Zodiac. When five of these
periods have been completed the total of sixty years corresponds with the
end of six periods of ten years each—a reckoning which is, I believe,
of Chinese origin. The fortunate man, therefore, may be said to begin
life over again; and presents such as are ordinarily appropriate only to
childhood are entirely in order on such a festal occasion. While walking
in the beautiful garden, which is of Japanese style but much modified by
Italian ideals, the private secretary of Marquis Ito, Mr. Furuya, came
to us and announced that his chief, who had recently returned from Seoul
to Japan, was near and wished to see me. After an exchange of friendly
greetings almost immediately the Marquis said: “I am expecting to see you
in my own land, which is now Korea”; and when I jestingly asked, “But is
it safe to be in Korea?” (implying some fear of a Russian invasion under
his protectorate) he shook his fist playfully in the air and answered:
“But I will protect you.” To this he added, pointing to his sword: “You
see, I am half-military now.” The significance of the last remark will
be the better understood when it is remembered that from the days of his
young manhood to the present hour, Ito has always stood for the peaceful
policy and the cultivation of friendly relations between Japan and all
the rest of the world. For this reason he has never been the favorite
of the military party; and he is to-day opposed in his administration
of Korean affairs by those who would apply to them the mailed hand of
punishment and suppression rather than hold out the friendly but firm
hand of guidance and help.
Even after this interview the real purpose of the invitation to visit
Korea was not evident. A week later, however, it was disclosed by a
visit from Mr. Yamada of the _Japan Times_, who came from Marquis Ito to
present his request more fully and to arrange for a subsequent extended
conference upon the subject. I was then informed, in a general way, how
it was thought by the Resident-General I might be of help to him and to
Japan in solving the difficult problem of furthering for the Koreans
themselves the benefits which the existing relations of the two countries
made it desirable for both to secure. Complaints of various sorts were
constantly being made, not only against individual Japanese, but also
against the Japanese administration, as unjust and oppressive to the
Koreans, and as selfish and exclusive toward other foreigners than its
own countrymen. Especially had such complaints of late been propagated by
American missionaries, either directly by letters and newspaper articles,
or more indirectly by tales told to travellers who, since they were
only passing a few days in Korea, had neither desire nor opportunity to
investigate their accuracy. In this way, exaggerations and falsehoods
were spread abroad as freely as one-sided or half-truths. In the office
of Resident-General the Marquis greatly desired to be absolutely just and
fair, and to prevent the mistakes, so harmful both to Korea and to Japan,
which followed the Japanese occupation of Korea at the close of the
Chino-Japan war. But it was difficult, and in most cases impossible, for
him even to find out what the complaints were; they came to the public
ear in America and England before he was able to get any indication of
their existence even. And when his attention was called to them in this
roundabout fashion, further difficulties, almost insuperable, intervened
between him and the authors of these complaints; for in most cases it
turned out that the foreign plaintiffs had no first-hand information
regarding the truth of the Korean stories. They would not themselves take
the pains to investigate the complaints, much less would they go to the
trouble to bring the attention of the Resident-General to the matters
complained of in order that he might use his magisterial authority to
remedy them. In respect to these, and certain other difficulties, Marquis
Ito thought that I might assist his administration if I would spend some
time upon the ground as his guest.
The nature of this invitation put upon me the responsibility of answering
two questions which were by no means altogether easy of solution; and on
which it was, from their very nature, impossible to get much trustworthy
advice. The first of these concerned my own fitness for so delicate and
difficult but altogether unaccustomed work. The second raised the doubt
whether I could in this way be more useful to Japan and to humanity than
by carrying out the original plan of spending the spring months lecturing
in Kiushu. After consulting with the few friends to whom I could properly
mention the subject, and reflecting that the judgment of His Imperial
Majesty, with whom Marquis Ito would doubtless confer, as well as of
the Resident-General himself, might fairly be considered conclusive, I
accepted the invitation; but it was with mingled feelings of pleasure and
of somewhat painful hesitation as to how I should be able to succeed.
The illness of Marquis Ito which, though not serious, compelled him to
retire from the exciting life of the capital city to the seaside, and
then to the hills, prevented my meeting him before I left Tokyo for Kyoto
to fulfil my engagements in the latter city. But, by correspondence with
a friend, I was kept informed of the Marquis’ plans for his return to
Korea, and thus could govern my engagements so as to be in the vicinity
of some point on his route thither, at which the meeting with him might
take place.
The expected conference followed immediately after our return from one
of the most delightful of the many gratifying experiences which came to
us during our year in Japan. We had taken a trip to the village of Hiro
Mura, where formerly lived Hamaguchi Goryo, the benevolent patron of his
village, whose act of self-sacrifice in burning his rice straw in order
to guide the bewildered villagers to a place of safety when they were
being overwhelmed by a tidal wave in the darkness of midnight, has been
made the theme of one of Lafcadio Hearn’s interesting tales. Mr. Hearn,
it appears, had never visited the locality; and, indeed, we were assured
that we were the first foreigners who had ever been seen in the village
streets. A former pupil of mine is at the head of a flourishing school
patronized by the Hamaguchi family; and having accepted his invitation,
in the name of the entire region, to visit them and speak to the school
and to the teachers of the Prefecture, the cordial greeting, hospitable
entertainment, and the surpassingly beautiful scenery, afforded a rich
reward for the three or four days of time required. For, as to the
scenery, not the drive around the Bay of Naples or along the Bosphorus
excels in natural beauty the jinrikisha ride that surmounts the cliffs,
or clings to their sides, above the bay of Shimidzu (“Clear Water”);
while for a certain picturesqueness of human interest it surpasses them
both. On the way back to Wakayama—for Hiro Mura is more than twenty miles
from the nearest railway station—three men to each jinrikisha, running
with scarcely a pause and at a rate that would have gained credit for
any horse as a fairly good roadster, brought us to the well-situated
tea-house at Waka-no-ura. For centuries the most celebrated of Japanese
poets have sung the praises of the scenery of this region—the boats with
the women gathering seaweed at low tide, the fishermen in the offing, the
storks standing on one leg in the water or flying above the rushes of the
salt marsh. Here we were met for tiffin by the Governor of the Prefecture
and the mayor of the city, and immediately after escorted to the city
hall of Wakayama, where an audience of some eight hundred, officials and
teachers, had already assembled. While in the waiting-room of this hall,
a telegram from Mr. Yokoi was handed to me, announcing that Marquis Ito
had already left Oiso and would reach Kyoto that very evening and arrange
to see me the next day.
It was now necessary to change the plan of sight-seeing in the
interesting castle-town of Wakayama for an immediate return to Kyoto.
Thus we were taken directly from the Hall to the railway station and,
on reaching Osaka, hurried across the city in time to catch an evening
train; an hour later we found our boys waiting, with their jinrikishas,
at the station in Kyoto. From the hotel in Kyoto I sent word at once
to Marquis Ito of our arrival and placed myself at his command for the
long-deferred interview. The messenger brought back an invitation for
luncheon at one o’clock of the next day.
When we reached the “Kyoto Hotel,” at the time appointed we were ushered
into the room where Marquis Ito, his _aide-de-camp_, General Murata, his
attending physician, his secretary, and four guests besides ourselves,
were already gathered. After leaving the luncheon table, we had scarcely
entered the parlor when the Marquis’ secretary said: “The Marquis would
like to see you in his room.” I followed to the private parlor, from
which the two servants, who were laughing and chatting before the open
fire, were dismissed by a wave of the hand, and pointing me to a chair
and seating himself, the Marquis began immediately upon the matters for
conference about which the interview had been arranged.
His Excellency spoke very slowly but with great distinctness and
earnestness; this is, indeed, his habitual manner of speech whether using
English or his native language. The manner of speech is characteristic
of the mental habit, and the established principles of action. In
the very first place he wished it to be made clear that he had no
detailed directions, or even suggestions, to offer. I was to feel quite
independent as to my plans and movements in co-operating with him to
raise out of their present, and indeed historical, low condition the
unfortunate Koreans. In all matters affecting the home policy of his
government as Resident-General, he was now a Korean himself; he was
primarily interested in the welfare, educationally and economically, of
these thirteen or fourteen millions of wretched people who had been so
long and so badly misgoverned. In their wish to remain independent he
sympathized with them. The wish was natural and proper; indeed, one
would be compelled to think less highly of them, if they did not have
and show this wish. As to foreign relations, and as to those Koreans who
were plotting with foreigners against the Japanese, his attitude was of
necessity entirely different. He was against these selfish intrigues; he
was pledged to this attitude of opposition by loyalty to his own Emperor,
to his own country, and, indeed, to the best good fortune for Korea
itself. Japan was henceforth bound to protect herself and the Koreans
against the evil influence and domination of foreign nations who cared
only to exploit the country in their own selfish interests or to the
injury of the Japanese. When his own countrymen took part in such selfish
schemes, he was against them, too.
Again and again did the Resident-General affirm that the helping of
Korea was on his conscience and on his heart; that he cared nothing for
criticism or opposition, if only he could bring about this desirable
result of good to the Koreans themselves. He then went on to say that
diplomatic negotiations between Japan and both Russia and France were so
far advanced that a virtual _entente cordiale_ had already been reached.
Treaties, formally concluded, would soon, he hoped and believed, secure
definite terms for the continuance of peaceful relations. Japan had
already received from Russia proposals for such a permanent arrangement;
the reply of Japan was so near a _rapprochement_ to the proposals of
Russia as to encourage the judgment that actual agreement on the terms
of a treaty could not be far away. The situation, indeed, was now such
that Russia had invited Japan to make counter proposals. The present
Foreign Minister of Russia the Marquis regarded as one of his most
trusted friends; the Russian Minister was ready, in the name of the Czar,
to affirm his Government’s willingness to abandon the aggressive policy
toward Korea and Manchuria, in case Japan would, on her part, pledge
herself to be content with her present possessions. The _status quo_
was, then, to be the basis of the new treaties. Great Britain, as Japan’s
ally, was not only ready for this, but was approaching Russia with a
view to a settlement of the questions in controversy between the two
nations, in regard to Persia, Afghanistan, and elsewhere, where they had
common interests. France would, as a nation on good terms with both Great
Britain and Russia, and as herself the friend of peace, gladly agree. He
was, then, hopeful that in the near future a permanent basis of peace
for the whole Orient might be secured by concurrence of the four great
nations most immediately interested.
To these disclosures of his plans and hopes, so frankly and fully made as
to excite my surprise, Marquis Ito then added the wish that I should at
this time, or subsequently while on the ground, ask of him any questions
whatever, information on which might guide in forming a correct judgment
as to the situation there, or assist in the effort toward the improvement
educationally, industrially, or morally, of the Koreans themselves. In
reply I expressed my satisfaction at the confidences which His Excellency
had given me, and my hearty sympathy with his plans for the peaceful
development of Korea. Nothing, it seemed to me, could be more important
in the interests of humanity than to have the strife of foreign nations
for a selfish supremacy in the Far East come to a speedy end. But the
perfect freedom of inquiry and action allowed to me was in some sort an
embarrassment. It would have been easier to have had a definite work
assigned, and a definite method prescribed. However, I should do the best
that my inexperience in such matters made possible, in order to justify
his favorable judgment.
It was my intention at first to prepare for the work in Korea by much
reading of books. But the professional and social demands made upon
both time and strength, to the very last hour of our stay in Japan,
prevented the carrying out of this intention. When, later on, it became
possible to read what had previously been published, I discovered that
the deprivation was no hindrance, but perhaps a positive advantage, to
the end of success in my task. A story of recent experiences of Korean
intrigue which had already been reported to me in detail was of more
practical value than the reading of many learned treatises. The story
was as follows: Among the several representatives of American Christian
and benevolent enterprises who have recently visited that country,
for the size of his audiences and the warmth of his greeting, one had
been particularly distinguished. At his first public address, some
four thousand persons, men and boys (for the Korean women are never
seen at such gatherings) had attempted to crowd into “Independence
Hall.” Of these, however, nine-tenths came with the vague feeling that
it is somehow for the political interest of Koreans to seem friendly
to citizens of foreign Christian countries—especially of the United
States—in order to secure help for themselves in an appeal to interfere
with the Japanese administration. In this case the speaker was at first
supposed to have great political influence. But the audience, seeing
that the subjects of address were religious rather than political,
fell off greatly on the second occasion. Meanwhile, some of the Korean
officials, in order to win credit for themselves for procuring the
audience, had falsely reported that the Korean Emperor _wished_ to see
this distinguished representative from America. But when they learned
that application for the audience had been duly made, through the proper
Japanese official, they came around again and, with many salaams and
circuitous approaches, expressed the regrets of His Majesty that, being
indisposed, he was unable to grant the audience which had been applied
for. At the very time of this second falsehood, the proper official was
in the act of making out the permit to enter the palace. The audience
came off. And while the American guest was in the waiting-room, the
Minister of the Household, watching his chance to escape observation,
with his hand upon his heart, appealed to the distinguished American for
his nation’s sympathy against the oppression of the Japanese. During
the two months of my own experience with the ways of the Koreans, all
this, and much more of the same sort, was abundantly and frequently
illustrated. And, indeed, no small portion of the recent movement toward
Christianity is more a political than a religious affair. But of this I
shall speak in detail later on.
It was the understanding with Marquis Ito at the interview in Kyoto that
he should have me informed at Nagasaki, at some time between March 20th
and 24th, when he desired us to come to Seoul; and that arrangements
should then be made for meeting our Japanese escort at Shimonoseki. On
returning to the hotel parlor the Marquis apologized to Mrs. Ladd for
keeping her husband away so long, and remarked, playfully, that the
diplomatic part of the conference was not to be communicated even to her,
until its expectations had become matters of history.
Three days later we started for Nagasaki, where I was to spend somewhat
more than a week lecturing to the teachers of the Prefecture, and to the
pupils of the Higher Commercial School. As we crossed the straits to
Moji, the sun rose gloriously over the mountains and set the sea, the
shore, and the ships in the two harbors aglow with its vitalizing fire.
The police officer assigned to guard his country’s guests, pointed out to
us the battleship waiting to take the Resident-General to his difficult
and unappreciated work in Korea; and nearer the other side of the channel
we noted with pleasure the _Aki Maru_, on which six months before we had
crossed the Northern Pacific.
It had been in my plans, even before reaching Japan, to spend a month
or two in Kiushu, a part of the Empire which is in some respects
most interesting, and which I had never visited before. And, indeed,
in reliance on a telegram from Tokyo which read: “Fix your own
date, telegraph Zumoto” (the gentleman who was to accompany us from
Shimonoseki), “Seoul,” arrangements had already been completed for
lectures at Fukuoka, and had been begun for a short course also at
Kumamoto. But the very next day after these instructions had been
followed, a telegram came from Mr. Zumoto himself, who was already
waiting at Shimonoseki to accompany us to Seoul, inquiring when we
could start, and adding that “the Marquis hoped it would be at once.”
All engagements besides the one at Nagasaki were therefore promptly
cancelled. On the evening of March 24th, Mr. Akai, who had been our
kindly escort in behalf of the friends at Nagasaki, put us into the hands
of our escort to Korea, at the station in Moji.
Since the steamer for Fusan did not start until the following evening, we
had the daylight hours to renew our acquaintance with Shimonoseki. The
historical connections which this region has had with our distinguished
host made the time here all the more vividly interesting. At this place,
as an obscure young man, Ito had risked his life in the interests of
progress by way of peace; and here, too, as the Commissioner of his
Emperor, the now celebrated Marquis had concluded the treaty with China
through her Commissioner, Li Hung Chang. But what need be said about the
story of these enterprises belongs more properly with the biography of
the man. At about 8.30 o’clock in the evening of March 25th the harbor
launch, with the chief of the harbor police in charge, conveyed the party
to the ship _Iki Maru_. The evening was lovely; bright moonlight, mild
breeze, and moderate temperature. After tea, at about eleven, we “turned
in” to pass a comfortable night in a well-warmed and well-ventilated
cabin.
I have dwelt with what might otherwise seem unnecessary detail upon my
invitation to Korea, because it throws needed light upon the nature and
opportunity of this visit, as well as upon the character of the man
who gave the invitation, and of the administration of which he is the
guiding mind and the inspiring spirit. I was to be entirely independent,
absolutely free from all orders or even suggestions, to form an opinion
as to the sincerity and wisdom of the present Japanese administration,
as to the character and needs of the Korean public, and as to the Korean
Court. The fullest confidential information on all points was to be
freely put at my disposal; but the purpose of the visit was to be in full
accord with that of the Residency-General—namely, to help the Koreans,
and to convince all reasonable foreigners of the intention to deal justly
with them. Suggestions as to any possible improvements were earnestly
requested. For I hesitate to say that His Excellency, with a sincerity
which could not be doubted, asked that I should advise him whenever
I thought best. So far as this understanding properly extends, the
unmerited title of “Unofficial Adviser to the Resident-General,” bestowed
by some of the foreign and native papers, was not wholly misplaced. But
the term is more creditable to the sincerity of Marquis Ito than to my
own fitness for any such title. “Adviser,” in any strictly official or
political meaning of the term, is a word altogether inappropriate to
describe our relations at any time.
CHAPTER II
FIRST GLIMPSES OF KOREA
It was soon after seven on the morning of Tuesday, March 26, 1907, that
we had our first sight of Chosen, “The Land of Morning Calm.” The day was
superb, fully bearing out the high praise which is almost universally
bestowed upon the Korean weather in Spring—the sunshine bright and
genial, the air clear and stimulating like wine. Tsushima, the island
which for centuries has acted as a sort of bridge between the two
countries, was fading in the distance on our port stern. The wardens of
Tsushima, under the Tokugawa Shogunate and, as well, much earlier, had a
sort of monopoly of the trade with southern Korea. From Tsushima, several
centuries ago, came the trees which make conspicuous the one thickly
wooded hill in Fusan, now the only public park in the whole country. In
front rose the coast; its mountains denuded of trees and rather unsightly
when seen nearer at hand, but at a distance, under such a sky, strikingly
beautiful for their varied richness of strong coloring. The town of
Fusan, as we approached it, had a comfortable look, with its Japanese
buildings, many of them obviously new, nestled about the pine-covered
hill which has already been noticed as its public park.
From the steamer’s deck our companion pointed out the eminence on which,
according to the narrative written by a contemporary in Chinese (the
book has never been translated and copies of the original are rare), the
Korean Governor of the District, when hunting in the early morning more
than three centuries ago, looked out to sea and to his amazement saw
myriads of foreign-looking boats filled with armed men approaching the
bay. It was the army sent by Hideyoshi for the invasion of the peninsula.
The Korean magistrate hastened to his official residence in the town, but
scarcely had he arrived when the Japanese forces were upon him and had
taken possession of everything. In twenty-one days the invaders were in
Seoul. But according to the universal custom of the country when invaded,
from whatever quarter and by whomsoever, the cowardly court—a motley
horde of king, concubines, eunuchs, sorcerers, and idle officials—had
fled; then a Korean mob burned and sacked the deserted palace and did
what well could be done toward desolating the city. For seven years the
Japanese held Southern Korea, even after their navy had been destroyed,
so as to make it impossible to transport reinforcements sufficient to
meet the combined forces of the Chinese and the Koreans. It was the fear
of a similar experience which, centuries later, made them so careful
first to incapacitate the Russian navy as a matter of supreme importance.
On another low hill to the right, our attention was directed to the
remnants of one of the forts built at the time by the invading Japanese;
and further inland, the train ran near to traces of the wall which they
erected for the defence of their last hold upon the conquered country.
Even then “the people hated them with a hatred which is the legacy of
centuries; but could not allege anything against them, admitting that
they paid for all they got, molested no one, and were seldom seen outside
the _yamen_ gates.”
On the wharf at Fusan there were waiting to welcome us the local
Resident, the manager of the Fusan-Seoul Railway, and other Japanese
officials—all fine-looking men with an alert air and gentlemanly bearing.
The official launch conveyed us to the landing near the railway station,
which is now some distance up the bay, but which will soon be brought
down to the new wharf that is in process of building, in such good time
that we had an hour and a half to spend before leaving for Seoul. Most of
this time was improved in visiting a Korean school on the hillside just
above. We were not, however, to see this educational institution at work,
but only the empty school-rooms and several of the Korean and Japanese
teachers. For the one hundred and seventy children of this school,
clothed in holiday garments of various shades in green, pink, carmine,
purple, yellow, and a few in white or black, were just starting for
the station to give a “send-off” to Prince Eui Wha. This Prince is the
second living son of the Korean Emperor and, in the event of the death
or declared incapacity of the Crown Prince, the legitimate heir to the
throne. There was much blowing of small trumpets and many unsuccessful
attempts on the part of the teachers to get and keep the line in order,
as the brilliantly colored procession moved down the hill.
The teachers who remained behind showed me courteously over the
school-rooms and interpreted the “curriculum” of the school which had
been posted for my benefit in one of the rooms. I give it below as a good
example of the kind of instruction which is afforded in the best of the
primary grades of the Korean school system as fostered by the Japanese:
_1st Class_—Ages, 7-9 years, inclusive:
Chinese classics; morals; penmanship; gymnastics.
_2d Class_—Ages, 10-11 years, inclusive:
Chinese classics; national literature; penmanship; Korean
history; gymnastics.
_3d Class_—Ages, 12-13 years, inclusive:
Chinese classics; arithmetic; composition; national and
universal history; gymnastics.
_4th Class_—Ages, 14-15 years, inclusive:
Chinese classics; arithmetic; composition; Japanese language;
universal history; gymnastics.
_5th Class_—Ages, 16 years and over:
English; Japanese; geography; national and universal history;
Korean law; international law.
It will appear that this scheme of education is based upon a Chinese
model, largely modified to meet modern requirements and, in the upper
classes, designed to fit those who are able to continue in school for the
lower grades of the Korean official appointments.
On returning to the station we found the children in line on one side
of the road and on the other a row of Korean men, some in clean and
some in dirty-white clothing, waiting for the coming of the Prince. The
difference between the mildly disorderly and unenthusiastic behavior of
the Korean crowd and the precise and alert enthusiasm of the Japanese on
similar occasions was significant. The Japanese policemen treated all the
people, especially the children, with conspicuous gentleness. The Prince,
who arrived at last in a jinrikisha and took the reserved carriage just
back of the one reserved for us, had a languid and somewhat _blasé_ air;
but he bowed politely and removed his hat for an instant as he passed by.
Before the train left the station a number of the principal civil
officers of Japanese Fusan appeared to bid us a good journey; and so we
entered Korea as we had left Japan, reminded that we were among friends
and should feel at home. Indeed, at every important station the cards of
the leading officials, who had been informed of the arrival of his guests
from the office of the Resident-General at Seoul, were handed in; and
this was followed by hand-shaking and the interchange of salutations.
The country through which the train passed during the entire day was
very monotonous—or perhaps “repetitious” is the better descriptive
word. Each mile, while in itself interesting and possessed of a certain
beauty due to the rich coloring of the denuded rock of the mountains and
of the sand of the valleys, which are deprived of their natural green
covering by the neglect to bar out the summer floods, was very like every
other of the nearly three hundred miles between Fusan and Seoul. Here,
as everywhere in Korea, there was an almost complete absence of any
_special_ interests, either natural or human, such as crowd the hills and
valleys of Japan. Of roads there appeared to be nothing worthy of the
name—only rough and tortuous paths, in parts difficult for the Korean
pony or even for the pedestrian to traverse. No considerable evidences of
any other industry than the unenlightened and unimproved native forms of
agriculture were visible on purely Korean territory. But at Taiden—about
170 miles from Fusan and 106 from Seoul—where the car of the Prince was
switched off, and where he remained overnight in order that he might
arrive at the Capital in the daylight, something better appeared. This
city is situated on a mountainous plateau and is surrounded by extensive
rice-fields, some of which, we were told, belong to the son of Marquis
Nabeshima, to Count Kabayama, and to other Japanese. In spots, the number
of which is increasing, all over Southern Korea, Japanese small farmers
are giving object-lessons in improved agriculture; and grouped around
all the stations of the railway, the neat houses and tidy gardens of the
same immigrants are teaching the natives to aspire after better homes.
Our escort believes that the process of amalgamation, which has already
begun, will in time settle all race differences, at least in this part of
the country.
At ten o’clock our train arrived at the South-Gate station of Seoul,
where we were met by General Murata, Marquis Ito’s _aide-de-camp_,
Mr. Miura, the Seoul Resident, Mr. Ichihara, manager of the Japanese
banks established in Korea, a friend of years’ standing, and others,
both gentlemen and ladies. The dimly lighted streets through which
the jinrikishas passed afforded no glimpses, even, into the character
of the city where were to be spent somewhat more than two exceedingly
interesting and rather exciting months. But less than an hour later we
were lodged in comfortable quarters at Miss Sontag’s house, and were
having a first experience of the almost alarming stillness of a Korean
night. Even in the midst of a multitude of more than two hundred thousand
souls, the occasional bark of a dog and the unceasing rat-tat of the
ironing-sticks of some diligent housewife, getting her lord’s clothing of
a dazzling whiteness for next day’s parade, are the only sounds that are
sure to strike the ear and soothe to sleep brains which must be prevented
from working on things inward, if they sleep soundly at all. But this
is the place to speak in well-merited praise of the unwearied kindness
and generosity of our hostess. Miss Sontag not only makes the physical
comforts of those visiting Seoul, who are fortunate enough to be her
guests, far different from what they could be without her friendly help,
but is also able to afford much insight into Korean customs, of which her
experience has been most intimate and intelligently derived.
With the morning light of March 27th began first observations of the
physical conditions and more obvious social peculiarities of Seoul—the
place which has been fitly styled “an encyclopædia of most of the
features of Korean so-called city life.” It is impossible to describe
Seoul, however, in any such fashion as to satisfy the conflicting
opinions of all—whether transient foreign observer or old-time resident.
The former will base his estimate upon the particular aspects or
incidents concerning which his missionary or diplomatic friend has given
him presumably, but by no means always actually, trustworthy information;
or upon what his own uninstructed eye and untrained ear may happen to see
and hear; while the more permanent indweller in Seoul is pretty sure to
conceive of it, and of its inhabitants, according to the success or the
failure of his schemes for promoting his own commercial, political, or
religious interests. This difference is apt to become emphatic, whenever
any of the patent relations of the two peoples chiefly interested, the
Koreans and the Japanese, are directly or even more remotely concerned.
The point of view taken for comparison also determines much. Approached
from Peking or from any one of scores of places in China, Seoul seems no
filthier than the visitor’s accustomed surroundings have been. But he who
comes from Old or New England, or from Japan, will observe many things,
greatly to his disgust. The missionary who compares his own method in
conducting a prayer-meeting with that pursued by the guard in clearing
the way at the railway station, or with that to which the policeman or
the jinrikisha-runner on the street is compelled by the crowd of idle and
stately stepping pedestrians, will doubtless complain of the rudeness
shown to the Koreans by the invading Japanese. And if he is disposed to
overlook the conduct of the roughs in San Francisco, or to minimize the
accounts of the behavior of American soldiers in the Philippines, or
has forgotten his own experiences at the Brooklyn Bridge, he may send
home letters deprecating the inferior civilization of the Far East. On
the other hand, he who knows the practice of Korean robbers, official
and unofficial, toward their own countrymen, or who recalls the sight
of a Korean mob tearing their victim limb from limb, or who credits the
reports of the unutterable cruelties that have for centuries gone on
behind the palace walls, will, of course, take a widely divergent point
of view. But let us—laying aside prejudice—glance at the externals of the
capital city of Korea, as they appeared during the months of April and
May, 1907.
The word Seoul,[1] coined by the Shilla Kingdom in Southeastern Korea and
originally pronounced _So-ra-pul_, means “national capital”; and Hanyang
(“Sun of the Han”), the real name of the present capital, is only one of
a succession of “Seouls,” of which Song-do and Pyeng-yang were the most
notable. To the imagination of the ignorant populace of Korea, who can
have no conception of what real civic beauty and decency are in these
modern days, and who are accustomed to express themselves with Oriental
hyperbole, Hanyang is the “Observation of all Nations,” “the King’s city
in the clouds,” “a city that spirits regard and ghosts conceal”; and to
be hailed as the “Coiled Dragon and the Crouching Tiger.” When the town
came down from the mountain retreat of Puk Han (to be described later)
and spread over the plain in order to utilize the Han River, it took the
river’s name; but it was only some five hundred and twenty years ago made
“Seoul” by the founder of the present dynasty selecting it as his capital
city.
The situation of the chief city of modern Korea becomes more and more
impressive and, in every important respect, satisfactory, the greater
the frequency of one’s reflective observation from any one of numerous
favorable points of view. There is no natural reason why, under the
governmental reforms and material improvements which are now being
put into effect, Seoul should not become as healthy, prosperous, and
beautiful a place of residence as can be shown anywhere in the Far East.
While its lower level is only some 120 feet above tide-water, and within
easy reach of the sea by the river, the city is, with the exception
of the side which opens toward and stretches down to this waterway,
completely surrounded by mountains. On the north these guardian peaks
rise to the height of 2,500 feet, from the tops of which magnificent
views can be obtained, not only of the town nestled at their feet but of
the surrounding land and of the ocean, far away. It is not necessary,
however, to climb so high in order to discover the geographical
peculiarities of Seoul. “To secure the best view of the city and its
surroundings,” says Dr. Jones, “one should ascend the lower slopes of
Nam-san” (a mountain almost wholly within the walls) “on a bright sunny
day in Spring. Taking a position on one of the many spurs jutting out
from this mountain a really notable scene greets the eye. The stone
screen of mountains enclosing the city begins at the left, with Signal
Peak distinguished by a lone pine-tree on its top. In former years there
was a beacon fire-station here, which formed one of the termini of the
long line of fire-stations that in pre-telegraph days signalled to the
authorities the weal or woe of the people.”
[Illustration: Bird’s-Eye View of the Capital City.]
Attention should again be called—at least for all lovers of natural
beauty—to the intensity and changeable character of the colors of the
surrounding mountains and hills, and of the city enclosed by them in
its plain, or in places where a few houses, mostly foreign, climb
their sides. These colors are often very intense; but they change in
a remarkable way, according to the brilliancy and direction of the
sunlight, and the varying mixtures of sunshine and shadow. From such
a point of view, the city itself, which is for the most part mean and
filthy when seen from the streets, appears as a sort of grayish carpet,
with dark-green spots made by the pines, for the plain beneath one’s
feet. As has already been indicated, the hillsides, both within and
around the walls, are uninhabited. They are devoted—and thus wasted—to
the mounds that cover the long-forgotten dead. By calculation, upon a
basis of counting, it is estimated that one of these burial grounds in
the vicinity of Seoul has no fewer than 750,000 of these graves. It is
neither reverence nor any other worthy feeling, however, which is the
chief factor in fostering a custom so expensive of comfort to the living;
it is superstitious fear, akin to that spirit-worship, which is largely
devil-worship, and which is really the only effective religion of the
non-Christian Korean people. Foreign residents upon the hillsides find it
difficult to keep their Korean servants during the night, so dominated
are they by their fear. In this respect, as well as others, there is an
important difference between so-called ancestor-worship, as in Korea, and
ancestor-worship in Japan.
The most obvious thing of interest in Seoul is the city wall. Its
construction was begun early in 1396, four years after the present
dynasty came to the throne; it was finished in about nine months by the
forced labor of men aggregating in number 198,000. According to the
legendary account, the course of the wall was marked out by a Buddhist
monk, who had the help of a miraculous fall of snow that indicated the
line which should be taken in order to avoid a dangerous mixture of the
“tiger” influence and the “dragon” influence. To this day the Koreans,
like the Chinese, whose pernicious domination they have followed in
this as in many other respects, are firm believers in geomancy. The
fact is, however, that the wall surrounding Seoul wanders, without any
assignable reason, some twelve miles, as recent surveys have settled the
long dispute about its length, over hills and along valleys, enclosing
a vast amount of uninhabitable as well as inhabited space. It is built
of partially dressed stone, with large blocks laid lengthwise at the
base, and the superstructure formed of layers of smaller stone—the
whole surmounted by battlements about five feet high and pierced
with loop-holes for archery adapted to the varying distances of an
approaching foe. In height it ranges from twenty to forty feet; it is
banked by an embankment of earth from twelve to fifteen feet thick.
Various attempts have been made at patching up this decaying structure,
but it can never have had the solidity and impregnability against attack
by the methods of mediæval warfare which were given to fortifications
of the same era in Japan. Moreover, the Korean defenders of the wall
customarily ran away as the foe approached; and this the Japanese
seldom or never did. Thus Seoul was easily captured by the warriors of
Hideyoshi in 1592, and nearly a half century later by a Manchu invading
army. The wall is, of course, useless for purposes of defence against
modern warfare; and its continuance in existence, at least in large part,
depends upon the length of time during which the sentiment of pride
triumphs over more utilitarian considerations.
It is the Gates of Seoul which emphasize the visitor’s interest in the
city wall and which give most of character to its picturesque features.
In themselves, they are mere “tunnels pierced in the wall”; but they
are rendered architecturally interesting by the wide-spreading eaves
and graceful curvature and, in some cases, striking ornamentation of
their roofs. They are, in all, eight in number, one of which is the
“concealed.” They bear the names of the points of the compass—South,
Little West, West, Northwest, East, Little East, and East Water; this
is not, however, because they face true to these points, but because in
the main they form the principal avenues of communication between the
inside of the wall and the outlying regions situated in these general
directions. Each of the gates has, besides, another name characterized
by the customary Korean hyperbole. There are, for example, the “Gate of
Exalted Ceremony,” the “Gate of Effulgent Righteousness” (or, in two
other cases, different kinds of righteousness), the “Gate of Brilliant
Splendor,” etc. But in and out of these gates, for one-half of a
thousand years, far more of corruption, cruelty, and darkness, has crept,
or trailed, or strutted, than of the qualities fitly called by their
high-sounding names. It was over them that the late “lamented queen”
festooned more than a score of heads freshly taken from her political
enemies in order to signify to the Tai-won-kun that she retained control
of His Majesty, in spite of the fact that his father had obtained
permission to re-enter the city through that same gateway. But why
disturb our admiration of a point of structural interest by recalling
one of the long list of doings in and around Seoul, no less distinctive
of the character of its government? In those older days, when the Great
Bell of the city rang the curfew, the gates were at once locked for the
night; and any inquirer may hear from missionaries and travellers how
they have climbed the wall in order not to sleep outside—thus incurring
the death penalty, which was not, however, at all likely to be enforced
upon the protected foreigner. The gates themselves, and the devices for
locking them, are very similar to those so frequently met with as the
relics of mediæval Europe. But the clay manikins (or _Son-o-gong_) which
sit astride the ridges of the roof, are designed to warn and ward off
all evil spirits that may attempt to enter the city. The old-fashioned
guards, with their dreadful array of big knives and swords, have now
given place to the modern policeman, whose principal duty is to keep the
gateway clear for traffic. This service is needed, for it is said that no
fewer than 20,000 foot-passengers, besides a stream of laden ponies and
bullocks, and a tolerably frequent schedule of electric cars, sometimes
pass through the South Gate in a single day. And the Koreans in the
streets are a slow-moving, stubborn, and stupid crowd.
To the ordinary traveller, after the first strangeness of its more
obvious aspects is over, not much remains of particular interest in the
capital city of Korea. Of fine buildings, of museums, picture-galleries,
temples, theatres, parks, and public gardens, there is little or nothing
to compare with any European or Japanese city of the same size. There is,
however, here as everywhere in the peninsula, no little of antiquarian
and historical interest which awaits the researches of those trained
and enthusiastic in such pursuits. Of those sights which the city of
Seoul within the walls can show, there are three principal classes—the
so-called palaces, the shrines, and the monuments. Even these are
interesting, not for their intrinsic grandeur or beauty, but chiefly for
their connection with the legends or historical incidents of the country.
To quote again from the articles of Dr. Jones: “The Koreans apply the
term _Kung_ or palace to all residences of royalty, and to them Seoul
is a city of palaces, for there are eighteen _Kung_ of varying sizes
and degrees of importance in and about the city.” Among the eighteen,
however, “there are several which are to-day a name and nothing more.”
Of these minor palaces the most interesting is that called the “Special
South Palace,” which was erected nearly five hundred years ago by one
of the kings for his favorite daughter and her consort. But the latter
made it such a “veritable den of infamy” that it was abandoned as a
house haunted by evil spirits and unsafe for habitation. The mixture
of fawning malice and hypocritical servility characteristic of Korean
officialdom was at one time humorously exhibited in a way to deceive
even the Chinese; for when the Mings were overthrown by the Manchus,
the hated envoys of the latter were assigned to this House, “for their
entertainment and as a covert derogation to their dignity.” Thus, too,
with the so-called “Mulberry Palace,” known by the Koreans as the “Palace
of Splendid Happiness.” It was erected by the tyrant Lord Kwanghai
who was here dethroned, and from here sent into exile, where he died
a prisoner. From it also his successor was driven out by the usurping
“Three Days, King.” It was in this palace, also, that the King Suk-jong,
having surprised his favorite concubine in practising magic rites to
accomplish the death of the Queen whom she had already caused to be
divorced and banished, turned upon the concubine herself, sentenced her
to drink poison, and when she in revenge mutilated the Crown Prince, had
her torn in pieces. Its present name is derived from one of the many
fruitless experiments which the present Government of Korea, left to
itself, is constantly making. The “mulberry” plantation remains only as
a name to adorn, or degrade, the ruins of the palace. But if any visitor
to Seoul thinks that such violence, lust, and thriftlessness, must of
necessity belong to the _ancient_ history of Korea, let him learn his
mistake. Were the firm, strong hand of the Japanese Resident-General
withdrawn, there is not one of these horrid deeds which might not be
reproduced at any hour.
These are not, however, the “Major Palaces,” through which the foreign
visitor is usually conducted, after having obtained a permit from the
proper authorities. The palace, known to the Koreans as the Kyung-pok,
or “Palace of Beautiful Blessing,” and to foreigners as the “Summer
Palace,” dates from 1394, and was occupied by the present Emperor until
1896. Nowhere else have I seen so large a space (it is estimated that the
principal enclosure containing only the buildings deemed necessary for
his Korean Majesty’s comfort, contains one hundred acres, besides which
there are other enclosures running up the slopes of the mountains and
designed for defence) strewn over with desolated and half-ruined barbaric
splendor. The main Gateway, through whose central arch no other person
than His Majesty and his bearers may pass, is an impressive structure
and is still in fairly good repair. It is guarded by stone effigies of
the _Hai-tai_, or mythical sea-monsters, who are prepared to spout water
against the mysterious influences stored in the “fire mountain,” some
ten miles away to the southward. They are therefore called “Fire Dogs.”
Once inside the enclosure, one is presented with a melancholy picture of
neglect, swiftly oncoming decay, and advancing ruin. All this is the more
melancholy, because the present palace buildings are only about fifty
years old, were erected by the Prince-parent of the present Emperor,
almost to the financial ruin of the country, and were abandoned only
after the assassination of the Queen, October 8, 1895.
Amidst this crowded waste where formerly three thousand persons lived
in attendance upon the separate establishments for the King, Queen,
Crown Prince, and the Dowagers, there are only two buildings which,
architecturally considered, are worthy of note. One of these is the
old “Audience Hall.” Its columns, although many are cracked for a
considerable part of their length, and none of them ever possessed
anything like the beauty or finish of the noble wooden pillars of the
Nishi Hongwanji in Kyoto (which, however, they resemble in style and
effect), seem to have been made of entire stately trees. There are
really no galleries, but the appearance is that of a two-galleried
hall. The strong colors of red, black, green, and blue, with which the
carved and panelled ceiling is decorated, in a manner similar to that
of the castles in the Tokugawa period in Japan, seem to find their way
through one’s upturned eyes to the base of the brain. In some of its
structural features this Audience Hall resembles the audience halls of
the Muhammadan monarchs in Northern India more than anything to be found
in Japan. This is especially true of the high platform on which the
throne was placed. The decoration central over it, and that central in
the ceiling of the whole hall, is golden dragons, with clouds and flames,
in bas-reliefs; it is in an excellent state of preservation.
The other really fine building in the entire collection is the so-called
“Hall of Congratulations,” whose upper floor is supported by forty-eight
granite monoliths—six rows of eight each in a row. These pillars are
about sixteen feet high and three feet square. The lotus pond surrounding
the building is oblong and faced with masonry; while miniature islands
rise here and there above the surface of the water. This Hall was
intended for state social functions of the out-of-door character.
By going still further back of the sleeping apartments of the King,
which consisted of nine rooms arranged in a square, so that the eight
surrounding the central room could guard it from intrusion or attack, we
come in front of the wall behind whose screen are the apartments in one
of which the brilliant and attractive but cruel Queen met her own most
tragic and cruel death. All are now forbidden to enter there. But some
twelve years before, our escort had seen the dark bloodstains on the
floor—perhaps hers, perhaps those of her chamberlain who met his death
in trying to protect his queen. And one has only to look a little way
over to the right in order to see the now peaceful pine-grove where her
body was dragged and burned. Such was the deed which terminated the royal
habitation of another, and this the most splendid, of the palaces of
Seoul!
It is the grounds, rather than the buildings, of the East Palace,
especially when the azaleas and cherry bushes and apricot-trees are
in full bloom, which constitute its beauty. Here the diplomatic corps
and the other invited guests of the Emperor are accustomed to have
picnics and afternoon teas. The apartments, which were united into one
so-called palace in the reign of Suk-jong (1694-1720) appear to be most
distinctively Korean and are unlike any other buildings which I have ever
seen. The rooms are small and rambling; and the screens between them
are decorated with those geometrical patterns which are so ancient and
so nearly universal wherever architecture has reached a certain stage
of development. The ceilings are low and devoid of decoration, but are
made pleasing by being everywhere “beamed-over.” This palace, too, has
not escaped its history of violence and its bath of blood. Here it was
that, in 1884, the party of Progressives, headed by Mr. Kim Ok-kiun,
tried to enforce reforms by capturing the person of the King. But the
conservative party of Koreans, helped by eight hundred Chinese soldiers
under the leadership of the Major Yuan, who afterward became Li Hung
Chang’s successor, and is even to-day cutting an important figure in the
complicated politics of China, finally drove out the Progressives and the
one hundred and forty Japanese who were defending them.
Little else of the mildly exciting “sights” of Seoul remains besides the
Great Bell and the Marble Pagoda. The former bears witness to an art in
which the Koreans once excelled, but which is now, like all the other
arts, either lost or neglected. At Nikko, it will be remembered, there
is a Korean bell which was presented to one of the Japanese Shoguns.
Setting aside all legends as to the time and incidents of its manufacture
and hanging, a recently deciphered inscription on its own side tells the
date as 1469 and gives the names of the prominent men connected with
the undertaking. The report of a Chinese envoy of 1489, who says of the
bell, “It calls all men to rest, to rise, to work, to play,” taken in
conjunction with the fact that, to avoid the troubles of faction and
violence, _men_ were forbidden on the streets after dark, probably gave
rise to the report that _women_ only were allowed to go abroad at night.
And this is believed by natives and travellers until the present hour.
But the bell, which once rung to open and close the massive city gates,
now rings only to tell of midnight and midday. And, although it is
about eight feet in diameter and ten feet high, it is no great sight as
looked at by peeking through the bars of its surrounding cage. It does,
however, like many other things else in Seoul, bear witness to the life
of the past and the changes of the present.
The marble pagoda is at the same time the most notable existing monument
of Buddhism in Korea and the most interesting art-object in Seoul. It
came, however, from abroad; tradition connects its gift with a Mongol
princess who, after the death of Kublai Khan, came to Korea in 1310 to
become the queen-consort of King Chung-sun. It was brought in a junk from
China and at first erected in the grounds of a temple in the little town
of Hanyang—the predecessor of Seoul on the same site; for the capital
of the present dynasty was not then built. The temple grounds were
beautified in its honor; roads were constructed leading to it; and a
bridge was built over a stream running near by. But the Korean inevitable
happened to it—the fate meted out to all that shows signs of order,
industry, or art, when not of immediate selfish interest to the rulers
of Korea. The roads, encroached upon by surrounding hovels, became foul
and narrow alleys; a squatter built his straw-thatched hut about it;
and the stream became the main sewer of the city, which is cleaned only
by the downpour of the summer rains. Thus, as says our chronicler: “The
gift to Korea of one of the mighty Mongol Khans, whose arms had literally
shaken the world, became the impedimenta of a Korean coolie’s backyard,
sixteen by twenty feet square!” What wonder, however, in a land where
court officials and palace hangers-on do not hesitate to-day to steal the
screens, and other presents from foreign monarchs and plutocrats, out
from under His Majesty’s very eyes.[2]
The pagoda itself, which has now been cleared from the clutter of huts
and made the central object in Seoul’s first attempt at the beginnings
of a public park, deserves a brief description. It is of white marble,
much stained by time, war, and neglect, and was originally thirteen
stories in height; although only ten of these are now standing, while
the upper three have been removed and rest beside it on the ground. The
base and first six stories have twenty sides; the remainder are squares.
Each story is symmetrically diminished in size; some have galleries with
curved eaves and upturned corners. The ornamentation is exceedingly
complicated and abstruse in its symbolism and suggestiveness. There are
sculptured upon the flat surfaces processions of tigers, dragons, men on
foot and on horseback, teachers discoursing in groves, pictures taken
from the traditional life of Buddha, and various bas-reliefs of different
Buddhas. The lower stories are composed of several blocks of carved
stone, but the smaller and upper stories are monoliths.
Near the pagoda stands the Tortoise Tablet, a very ancient structure; the
tablet is said originally to have been brought from the Southern Kingdom
of Scilla, and erected upon the ledge of granite which outcropped in
this place, after the rock had itself been carved into the shape of a
tortoise. It was designed to memorialize the building of a temple which
dates back to the eleventh century A. D. The tablet is probably more than
one thousand years old.
Within the small enclosure surrounding these relics, Mr. Megata, the
Japanese financial adviser to the Korean Government, is trying to
encourage the public spirit of the natives and entertain the resident
foreigners by providing band concerts on Saturday afternoons. Thus this
spot also offers a study in epitome of the history, present changes, and
future prospects of the capital city of Korea.
Of the few shrines which the royal prohibition of Buddhism and the low
and decaying interest in all religious conceptions rising above the level
of spirit-worship—and this mostly devil-worship—have allowed to remain
in Seoul, the only ones of any particular importance are the Imperial
Ancestral Shrines and the so-called “Temple to Heaven.” But even the
guests of Marquis Ito did not think it wise to ask for permission to
visit these shrines, or to exhibit any more curiosity respecting them
than to glance by the guard, through the open doors of the gateway, while
passing along the street. As to the New Palace, which is a stone building
of modified Doric architecture, and is so far finished externally that it
can be seen to have decided claims to beauty, if only the superstitions
of the monarch and of his counsellors among the blind-men and the
sorcerers had permitted it to be well placed—this was ever before our
eyes from the windows of Miss Sontag’s house. And what was seen of the
buildings occupied at the time of our visit by His Majesty and the Court,
so far as it is worth a word, will be described in another place.
The Seoul seen from the surrounding mountain-sides, and the Seoul of
so-called palaces, is not the city in which the people live. Apart from
a few of its inhabitants—such as the missionaries, certain foreign
business men and diplomatic agents, together with a small number of
native officials who have acquired a taste for foreign ways—the Seoul
of the people is disgustingly filthy and abjectly squalid. It is,
indeed, not so filthy and miserable, and lacking in all the comforts
and decencies of respectable Western life, as it was a generation, or
even a few years ago. Several of the streets have now been—not only
occasionally when the King was going a “processioning” through them,
but habitually and to the benefit of the populace—cleared of their
encroachments of squatter hovels, huts, and booths. The gutters along
the sides of _these_ streets do not quite so much as formerly disturb
the eyes and nostrils of the pedestrian, especially if he walks in
the middle of the thoroughfare; their use for vile purposes is not so
much in evidence as was the case before any of the natives had even a
glimmering sense of decency about such matters. In spite of the increased
business activity of the city there is not to-day quite the same stream
of white-robed saunterers, stately in gait but low in character, to give
a semi-holiday aspect to the “Broadways” of Seoul; for electric cars
transport the multitudes back and forth in several directions. Besides,
there is the neat, attractive Japanese quarter. Here, according to my
observation, the Koreans themselves were doing more sight-seeing and more
trading than in their own quarters; for here the cheaper products of the
new and hitherto unknown world are skilfully displayed. But otherwise
and elsewhere in the city, the same unsanitary conditions and indecent
habits, in all respects, prevail. The narrow, winding alleys are flanked
with shallow, open ditches, that are not only the drains and sewers but
the _latrines_ of the dwellers in the low earth-walled houses on either
side. Cowardly and lean dogs, naked children, and rows of men squatting
and sucking their long pipes or lying flat upon the ground, crowd and
obstruct these alleys. And from them the wide-spreading Korean roofs cut
off the purifying and enlivening sunlight. Many of the most wretched and
unsanitary of these hovels squat under the shadow of the stately city
wall. May its stones sometime be used to build a better and healthier
city!
There are, however, yet more notable changes and improvements than those
already accomplished, which seem destined surely and speedily to follow.
A water-supply, for which the surveys and contracts have already been
completed and for which, during our visit, the pipes were beginning to
be laid, will not only diminish the dangers that lurk in the cans of the
professional water-carriers and in the private wells, but will assist
the summer rains in their formidable task of washing clean the open
sewers. More of these foul, winding alleys, and huddles of hovels, will
be abolished. The increase in the interests of life, and the enjoyment
of the rewards of protected industry, will diminish the drunkenness and
gluttony, varied by enforced periods of starvation, which now distress
the people. The new hospital and medical school—the former of which will
immediately relieve much suffering and the latter of which will perform
the yet more important service of educating a native medical class—are
among the most cherished projects of the Resident-General. And when to
these more essential matters there is added the cultivation of the native
love of nature and taste for flowers, it is not an extravagant hope to
picture Seoul as becoming, in many respects, a not undesirable place for
residence, before many years are past. Even now, with the spring covering
of bloom from plum, apricot, apple, and cherry, and with the profusion
of flowering shrubs which adorns the valleys and the mountain-sides, one
feels inclined to overlook, at least for the months of April and May, the
foul sights of the gutters and the surrounding hovels. But all this was,
as it were, only background and theatre for the work I wished to do and
the observations I wished to make.
CHAPTER III
LIFE IN SEOUL
After accepting Marquis Ito’s formal invitation to attempt a special
kind of service in Korea, the first problem to be solved concerned
the choice of ways for approaching that service. Its solution was by
no means obvious. In Japan there were more of urgent requests for
public addresses and lectures of various kinds than could possibly be
accepted. And everywhere that the speaker went, influential and large
organizations of an educational and public character, to whose support
the governors, of the Kens and the mayors of the cities were officially
committed, could be relied upon to make all necessary arrangements and
to carry the arrangements through effectively. More important still,
there was the most eager interest in the subjects upon which the
prospective audiences wished to be addressed, and the attitude of an
open mind and even of warm personal attachment toward “the friend of
Japan.” In Korea, however, all the influences would be of precisely the
opposite character—indifference, deficiencies, hindrances, if not active
opposition, so far as the native attitude was concerned. In Korea there
were no educational associations; and, outside of a very small circle in
a few cities, there was little or no interest in education. The local
magistrates were, almost without exception, devoted to “squeezes” rather
than to the increase of intelligence and the moral improvement of their
districts. The teachers of the few existing schools were, in general,
without any modern culture; they were even without the most rudimentary
ideas on the subjects of pedagogy, ethics, and religion. Only in a small
number of places were there any halls that could accommodate an audience,
should one be gathered by an appeal to curiosity and to the Korean thirst
for “look-see”; while to be known as a “friend of Japan” and a guest of
Marquis Ito was to erect an almost insuperable obstacle in the way of
reaching the ears of the Korean upper and middle classes, to say nothing
of convincing their minds or touching their hearts. Addressing the lower
classes on any scholastic topic was impossible. Through what organ, then,
could a stranger help the Resident-General in his benevolent plans for
the welfare of the people of Korea?
Reflection upon this problem of a means of approach to the Koreans ended
in the fortunate choice of the Young Men’s Christian Association at
Seoul. To be sure, the direct influence of this association is at present
wisely limited to the capital city. The illicit organization of branch
associations, which was undertaken for political purposes by the Koreans
themselves, has made it necessary to check, rather than encourage, all
efforts to multiply Y. M. C. A. societies in places beyond the immediate
and unceasingly watchful control of the foreign secretaries. The same
hypocritical and unscrupulous use of the name of religion for purposes
of political intrigue compelled the Methodist Mission in Korea to break
up the “Epworth League.” A letter to a friend in Tokyo, explaining my
purposes and my embarrassment, resulted in the following telegram, which
was received in Shimonoseki late in the evening of the day before sailing
for Fusan:
Secretary Seoul telegraphs Seoul Association platform gladly
open. Indications other cities will extend same courtesy,
especially after tenth.
These words illumined to no small degree the prospect of establishing
relations favorable to the success of the proposed plans.
In this connection it is pertinent to say that I had been advised to seek
especially the counsel and assistance of Bishop Turner of the Church of
England, and of the Korean, Mr. Yun Chi-ho. The Bishop was the president
of the Young Men’s Association; and the Korean gentleman is of good
family, has a well-merited reputation for honesty, and has been prominent
in religious work among his own people. As the history of my experiences
will show, I was disappointed with respect to both these sources of
information and help. Bishop Turner was either absent or ill during
nearly the entire time of my stay in Korea; and Mr. Yun Chi-ho exhibited
so persistently and adroitly the qualities which I had heard described
as “a pessimistic disposition,” and which in the opinion of all who knew
him, both natives and foreigners, unfitted him for incurring any of the
responsibilities of leadership, as to somewhat hamper rather than assist
any efforts in behalf of his own people. It was not, of course, to be
expected that a Korean Yang-ban should willingly confess the demonstrated
incapacity of the Korean nation for self-government; even less, perhaps,
that he should himself assist the Japanese in doing for his own people
what they never have done, and never could do, for themselves. But
that intelligent native Christians should take an attitude of passive
opposition to offers of assistance on matters of education, morality and
religion from a friendly foreigner of another nation, simply because
that foreigner was the guest of the Japanese Resident-General, shows
how characteristic and deep-seated are the obstacles which the official
class are opposing to the redemption of Korea. But I was to witness
the manifestation of the extreme form of the same feeling toward the
association of those of their own countrymen who were co-operating with
the Japanese in plans for reform.
The morning after our arrival in Seoul, at about 10.30 o’clock, Marquis
Ito sent Mr. Zumoto to conduct me to his private office in the Residency
House. The official residence is one of a group of buildings belonging
to the Japanese Government and situated upon a succession of spurs from
the mountain Nam-san, in a portion of the city which lies beyond the
Japanese quarters. The surrounding grounds, especially from points above
the house, command fine views of the city, and are being constantly
improved and beautified in accordance with Japanese taste. So lonely are
the mountainous heights above the grounds that numerous wild-cats have
descended upon the chicken-yard of the Residency, and more than a dozen
of these pests have been caught in traps and are now caged as part of a
small menagerie or private “Zoo.” There are persons now living in Seoul,
not of advanced age, who have encountered tigers of the “man-eating”
species, to say nothing of less formidable wild beasts, such as leopards
and foxes, within the city walls.
At this morning’s interview the Marquis was the first to speak, after a
few minutes of silence which followed the exchange of greetings. But it
was only to say that, of course, he could procure me invitations from
the Japanese to give public addresses, and even, he presumed, from the
Koreans; this, however—especially in the latter case—would probably
embarrass my work, since it would subject it to suspicion. After these
words he paused in a way to suggest an invitation for me to speak freely
of my plans. I began by saying that I had no training or experience in
matters of diplomacy; but I believed that, for me at least, the best
course of action would conform to these two rules: to be entirely frank
and good-tempered when you had anything to say; and to know when and how
to hold your tongue if silence seemed the proper policy. At this the
Marquis laughed—it seemed approvingly. In brief, the plans, as far as
formed at present, were as follows. As to _Mission_:—Public: I was here
as the guest of Marquis Ito, to speak to the Koreans in a sincerely
friendly way, on matters of education, morals, and religion, especially
as these matters concerned their national welfare; private: to discover
what I could which might assist the Resident-General in dealing with
his difficult problem and to assure all, whom I could reach, that he
sincerely wished to serve the real interests of the Koreans and to secure
for them the administration of justice and an increased prosperity. As
to _Message_:—Public: that the real prosperity of the individual and of
society can be secured only by developing a character which deserves
it; and private, as already defined by the private mission. As to
_Means_:—Since there are in Korea no Teachers’ Associations, I hoped
to work through the Young Men’s Christian Association and through such
other connected agencies as they might secure; and especially to get
opportunities to address Missionary Schools and Christian congregations
in the churches. I also hoped to form friendly relations with the
missionaries and with some of the diplomats and foreign business men
in order to learn their views of the situation and to gain from them
information and suggestions for its improvement. Especially did it seem
to me desirable that the spiritual forces wielded by the missionaries
should co-operate for the good of Korea with the political forces wielded
by the Resident-General.
At this first interview, as at all subsequent interviews during my stay
in Korea, the Resident-General uniformly replied in the negative to every
request for criticism of my plans, or even for suggestions as to their
improvement. On one particular occasion when I ventured to repeat the
question: “But has the Marquis no suggestions to make?” the same answer,
“No, I have no suggestions to offer,” was returned. When I afterwards
asked the only third person who was ever present at any of these
interviews whether after my departure some comments had not been made
which might assist in deciding upon the best course of action, the reply
again was an unqualified negative. And upon surprise being expressed at
this, the remark followed: “It is the custom of the Marquis, when he
trusts any one, to trust him completely.” And, indeed, the promise to
leave me absolutely independent, which had been made in private and which
was soon made public, was, throughout, most strictly kept.
The same day, after tiffin, one of the under-secretaries of the Y. M.
C. A., in the absence of Mr. Gillett, the Chief Secretary, called upon
me for the discussion of plans and topics for the lectures in Korea.
It then became evident that the manner of coming would, as had been
suspected, prejudice the Koreans against the speaker and his words.
Secretary Brockman, indeed, agreed with me in thinking that a large
measure of frankness was desirable. But the Korean officers and members
of the Association were timid. It appeared that the _Korean Daily
News_ had already reminded its readers, with a sinister warning, that
Professor Ladd did not come from America, but from Tokyo, to Korea. The
effect of this, with all it implied, will soon appear. Any more definite
decision as to ways of procedure was, therefore, deferred until further
consultation could be had with those chiefly interested in the affairs of
the Association and the moral and religious welfare of the Korean people.
The next morning a committee of three, representing the Association
and the two principal Missions doing work in Seoul, called, and two
hours of friendly discussion followed over the wisest method of solving
this problem: How to employ the _American_ guest of the _Japanese_
Resident-General as a teacher of education, morals, and religion, under
existing conditions, to _Korean_ audiences. A complex problem truly! From
the first, the lecturer himself insisted upon a continuance of the open
and frank policy of approach; any attempt at concealment of his relations
to Marquis Ito and of his confidence in the Marquis’ plans for helping
Korea would only result in an increase of prejudice, suspicion, and in
other invitations to failure. It was during the course of this discussion
that one of the missionary members of the committee frankly declared his
continued unwillingness, previously expressed, to have anything to do
with a plan for “smoothing the way” for the Japanese. In case this was
Professor Ladd’s purpose, “let him go ahead and smooth the way, if he
could; for his own part he wished to be counted out.” The conference,
however, ended in the harmonious agreement that three lectures should
be given within the next week, under the auspices of the Young Men’s
Association. These were to have dates as follows; for the next Saturday
evening, upon the subject, “Education and the Social Welfare”; for Sunday
afternoon, upon the subject, “Religion and Social Reform”; and for Monday
evening, upon “Education as Related to the Stability and Progress of the
Nation.” It was originally intended that the address of Sunday should
be given in “Independence Hall,” the largest public room in Seoul,
which, however, stands outside of the city walls near “Independence
Arch”—a structure erected to commemorate the formal renunciation of
the suzerainty of China. The other lectures were to be given in the
Association Hall, a temporary building of bare boards, situated in a more
central location. Application, however, for the use of Independence Hall
was met by the information that it was already engaged for next Sunday.
It was then suspected that this was only an indirect and insincere method
of refusal; I am not even now sure as to whether or not the suspicion was
correct.
On the next day a cordial invitation came from the missionaries of both
missions in Pyeng-yang to visit them and speak there as many times as
I might be able. The narrative of this interesting visit is to be told
elsewhere. But the difference between the attitude of the Koreans toward
me in places outside of the capital, where the corruption, fears, and
prejudices of the Yang-bans (or ruling class) are less dominant—although
some of these places have really suffered more from the Japanese than has
Seoul—shows in what motives and interests the anti-Japanese feeling is
chiefly seated. It is in Seoul, especially, that many of the missionaries
seem not to have kept themselves altogether free from the same unworthy
Court influences.
It was on Saturday, March 30, at 3.30 P.M., according to a notice sent
the day before, that I was received in audience by the Korean Emperor.
Under the escort of the Marquis’ secretary, Mr. Kurachi, and a Korean
_aide-de-camp_, I went in a jinrikisha to the small gate of the palace
which is very near to Miss Sontag’s house, and dismounting there, passed
through rather irregular and intermittent lines of palace guards to
the building where the audience was to take place. The rooms used for
such functions, while the new palace is still in process of erection,
are far enough from anything approaching royal magnificence. The aspect
and furnishings of the entrance hall would scarcely rival a third-class
hotel in Europe or the United States. The same thing is true of the
waiting-room and of the audience-chamber itself. On arrival I was shown
into the former apartment, where were already gathered some of the
prominent Korean officials, including the Prime Minister, the Master
of Ceremonies, and several officers of high rank in the Korean army.
The entrance of Marquis Ito with his suite soon after filled the small
room with men whose gorgeous apparel contrasted strongly with the cheap
woodwork, which was painted light-pink and trimmed in light-green; and
with its tawdry European furnishings. Almost immediately the little
Prince, son of Lady Om, entered, and with an amusing air of boyish
dignity, made more effective by the mannish costume of topknot and
crinoline hat with which he had recently been invested, came straight up
to me and gravely held out his hand. The young Prince has bright eyes, an
intelligent but almost completely full-moon-shaped face, and a protruding
abdomen suggestive of over-indulgence in sweets and other fattening
foods. At the mature age of eleven years he had just secured the coveted
honor of the man’s investiture, as described above. And seven maidens
of suitable rank and age had already been selected, one of whom would
subsequently sustain the ordeal of being chosen as his consort and future
wife. After the hand-shaking and an interchange of courteous salutations,
the boy disappeared. While waiting, I was being introduced to one
official, Korean or Japanese, after another; but so often as I rose for
this purpose, I was politely requested by the Korean _aide-de-camp_ to be
seated again.
The Resident-General and some of his suite went to the audience-room some
minutes before I was summoned to follow. It was my conjecture, from what
His Majesty subsequently said, that he was being told something about
me and about the work which I was to attempt in Korea. In a still later
interview with Marquis Ito I learned the truth of this conjecture. The
Emperor had been assured that the visitor’s purposes were not political;
but the Resident-General, believing that his lectures on matters
educational and ethical had been of service in Japan, had invited him to
come to Korea to assist in contributing to the same important interests
here.
On being invited to do so by the Court interpreter, I followed him to
the audience-room. Any expectation of being conducted through stately
corridors to a splendid throne-room was speedily disappointed. The
audience-room was as near the waiting-room as two small rooms can well
be. It was itself so small that there was difficulty in making the
requisite three bows before standing face to face with His Majesty,
separated only by a round table of the most ordinary sort. At his right
side stood, not the Crown Prince, the son of the late Queen, but the son
of Lady Om. Before I had come near enough to take it, and indeed before I
had made my third bow, the Emperor held out his hand. He is in appearance
a quite ordinary man, of the Korean type; and there was nothing worthy
of notice about his plain Korean dress. His face wore the pleasant smile
with which he is said to greet all foreigners (for, as our hostess says:
“_Il est très gentil, très aimable_”); although its æsthetical effect is
somewhat hindered by a bad set of teeth.
His Majesty expressed the hope that I had a pleasant trip and was very
comfortable and enjoying myself. A favorable answer, and especially
an expression of pleasure at Korea’s beautiful mountain scenery and
delightful climate, elicited the remark—he still smiling, while the young
Prince looked as solemn as an owl—that, “besides the climate and the
mountains, there was nothing else of interest in Korea.” “I cannot quite
agree with Your Majesty,” was the response, “for I find the people and
the country very interesting and I am sure that my interest will increase
the longer I stay.” The Emperor then went on to say that he was glad to
learn I had come to instruct his people in right ways; that he hoped
they would open their minds to enlightenment and to modern ideas; and
that my addresses would contribute to their progress. I answered that I
should sincerely endeavor, by speaking on the same subjects on which I
had been accustomed to speak in my own country, in England, India, Japan,
and elsewhere, to contribute some little help to the same good cause in
Korea. Up to this time, no sign of permission had been given to take my
dismissal, and, indeed, once when a movement to withdraw had been made,
a half-gesture had prevented it; but now His Majesty held out his hand.
After taking it, I bowed and backed out safely over the threshold—a
manœuvre made the easier by the small size of the room.
On returning to the waiting-room the question was asked whether the
Crown Prince was present with his father; and no little surprise seemed
to be excited by the fact that Lady Om’s son had on this occasion taken
the place on the Emperor’s right hand customarily occupied by the older
half-brother. After the entrance again of the Marquis Ito with his suite,
and of the Korean officials, to the room for waiting, light refreshments
were served; the ceremony was then considered at an end.
My first experience of lecturing to a Korean audience came on the evening
of the same day. While waiting in the small, dingy rooms of the Korean
building, then used for offices by the Young Men’s Christian Association
of Seoul, I was introduced to several prominent Korean Christians. The
most interesting of these was the pastor of one of the Korean churches, a
member of a high-class family and one of the very few of his countrymen
who combines a truly manly native character with a profession of the
foreign faith. This man had been chosen by the Crown Prince to assist at
the obsequies of his mother, the murdered Queen. The struggles with his
conscience, which forbade him either to take part in heathenish rites, or
escape with a lie, by feigning illness, or crawl out of the dilemma by
resigning the official position he then held, made an interesting story.
This man solved his problem of conscience in truly loyal style. And when
the Christian pastor told his heathen prince that he could not go, and,
as well, the reason why, instead of ordering him punished the latter
said: “Why did you not let me know beforehand that you are a Christian,
and then I should not have asked you? Go in peace.”
The lecture began late. The hall was crowded with some 600 Koreans,
seated on the floor, standing in the open space about the door, and
perched in the windows. Besides the native audience, a few missionaries
and three or four Japanese friends were the only foreigners present.
The arrangements for enforcing order were unusual and interesting. A
number of young men, designated by badges, were posted near the door or
distributed about the hall. Their office resembled, apparently, that of
the tithing-man in the Puritan churches of a century gone by. Boys who
became too restless were admonished and sometimes even gently rapped or
pulled into place; and those who wished to leave the hall were prevented
from doing so unless they could give peremptory reasons for the wish.
It was deemed complimentary to the speaker that he did not develop
any considerable number of this class of hearers; and, indeed, this
particular audience was called attentive. It was, in truth, fairly so;
although not after the pattern of the altogether respectful and quiet
manners of the Japanese audiences. Indeed, there was always considerable
restlessness and undoubted evidence of that kind of applause which
imitates what the French call _claque_, in the Korean audiences at Seoul.
On the one hand there was a lack of that intelligent and serious interest
in the discussion of questions of education, morals, and religion which
one meets everywhere in Japan; while, on the other hand, there was
response by clapping of hands to any remarks which touched one’s hearers
on the side of sentiment in an appeal to their personal or national
experiences of injustice, pride, and weakness mingled with a certain form
of ambition. These different characteristics may safely be interpreted
as marking essential differences between the present attitudes and
prospective developments of the two peoples.
This lecture, as were all the lectures delivered to the Koreans (since
they were without exception given under the auspices of either the Y. M.
C. A. or of the missionaries), was opened by religious exercises. Dr.
Jones introduced the speaker; and Mr. Reynolds, whose reputation for a
knowledge of the Korean language has secured him a prominent place in
the work of translating the Scriptures, interpreted. The speaker availed
himself of the words which the Emperor had that afternoon spoken in
commendation of his purpose in visiting the country, to propitiate his
first Korean audience. At the end of the two hours the foreigners present
expressed themselves as well satisfied with the beginning which had been
made.
On the afternoon of the next day, which was Sunday, the audience was
equally large, and the attention about equally good; although the drizzle
of rain which came on during the hours of meeting made some of the Korean
men as nervous about the damage threatening their best-wear crinoline
hats as American women are wont to be about their bonnets, under similar
circumstances, on an Easter Sunday. As we entered the hall, Dr. Avison
was leading the audience in singing. The quality of the song was not
high, but it was perhaps equal to that attainable in Japan, outside of
the Greek Cathedral at the time of my first visit fifteen years ago. The
Koreans are probably more fond of music, and more apt at learning, than
are the Japanese. Already, under the training of their German teacher,
Professor Eckert, a Korean band is giving to Seoul fairly creditable
music. This service of song continued for about one-half hour and ended
with the performance of a quartette by Korean young men, one of whom
is Chamberlain to the Crown Prince and a nephew of the Emperor. This
Sunday’s audience was almost exclusively Christian.
The next evening’s audience was not quite so large as the others had
been, but was obviously of much higher intellectual quality. More of the
prominent men of the official class, apparently attracted by the nature
of the theme, were present. They responded with increasing enthusiasm
to Dr. Jones’ clear and vigorous interpretation of my remarks upon the
dangers to the national life which grow out of superstition, lawlessness,
partisanship, selfish ambition and avarice, and a frivolous, irreverent
spirit. At the close of the lecture the audience rose to their feet and
waved toward me their uplifted hands as a greeting, equivalent to the
Japanese _banzai_—thus making an encouraging ending to the first series
of lectures in Seoul.
On our return from Pyeng-yang it was arranged that a course of three
lectures should be given in the hall of the Young Men’s Association to
the teachers, and one or more popular addresses in Independence Hall,
if this larger building could be obtained. To secure an audience for
the teachers’ course, some 400 tickets of invitation were issued and
distributed by Korean helpers. The report of the eagerness with which
these tickets were sought led the secretary of the association to predict
that three hundred at least would gather to hear discussed such topics
as the following: “The Work of the Teacher,” “The Preparation of the
Teacher,” “The Ideals of the Teacher.” The lecturer himself estimated
that an audience of as many as fifty would be entirely satisfactory.
As a matter of fact, somewhat more than one hundred appeared at the
appointed hour. The Korean helpers who had distributed the tickets
accounted for the discrepancy between the fact and their anticipations
by the persistence of the rumor that I had come to Korea to take a
permanent official position under the Japanese Government. [Indeed, this
was the prevalent opinion in Korean official circles—and even among some
of the foreigners—until the date of our leaving the country.] But the
same question arose again: Had the Korean Christian helpers really told
the truth and had they been faithful to their work; or had they dealt
with their commission treacherously and brought back a false report?
In either case it was obvious that the teachers of the public schools
had diplomatically refrained from attendance, under circumstances which
might indicate a relaxing of their anti-Japanese sentiments. However,
certain of the Government officers now promised to send out word that
attendance was commanded; and a large increase was expected at the next
lecture. Whatever was the real cause of the first disappointment, the
audiences were, in fact, about doubled at the following two lectures.
They were also officially dignified by the presence of the Vice-Minister
of Education, who, alas! soon afterward was arrested for contributing
1,200 _yen_ to a conspiracy of assassination involving his own chief;
he confessed to this intensity of his patriotism, underwent, according
to current report, the preliminary examination by being beaten with
rods, and was still in prison when we left Korea. As touching the moral
efficiency of the lectures, however, it is only fair to say that the evil
deed had been done some time previous to the culprit’s opportunity for
benefiting by their influence.
At the close of this course on educational topics to the Korean teachers
of Seoul, one of the officials in the Department of Education detained
the audience by a long and somewhat impassioned address. In this he
heartily thanked the lecturer and exhorted the teachers to a better
fulfilment of their duties—at the same time lamenting bitterly the sad
condition of educational interests in their native land. Then one of
the Korean secretaries of the Y. M. C. A. complimented the audience on
their excellent behavior while in the hall. This conduct of themselves
had been in accordance with their profession as teachers. They had not
yawned, or belched, or interrupted the speaker by leaving the room while
he was speaking, after the customary behavior of Korean audiences of the
uneducated classes. It should be said, however, that one of the many
minor indirect benefits to the Korean people which are largely due to
Christian missions is this: discipline in remaining fairly quiet and
attentive while listening to others speaking. The unregenerate native
manners in public meetings are most abominable.
Finally, after several disappointments and rebuffs, Mr. Gillett succeeded
in obtaining Independence Hall for Sunday afternoon of April 21st. On
our way out to the meeting and back again he revealed the fact that,
on account of the opposition to me as the guest of Marquis Ito, he had
been unable to get the meeting advertised as widely and effectively as
he desired. Whether this was due to the unwillingness and unfaithfulness
of his Korean helpers, or to the determination of the native edition of
the _Korean Daily News_ to oppose and traduce everything even remotely
connected with Japan, I did not inquire. But I decided, and asked the
secretary to communicate my decision to his native helpers, that this
should be my last address to the Koreans in Seoul, unless invited by the
Koreans themselves. Was there not here, I asked, a small body of leading
Christian helpers with courage and manliness enough to set themselves
against the prejudices of their countrymen by expressing spontaneously
their willingness to hear truths about education, morals, and religion,
from one who was the friend of the Japanese as well as their own nation’s
friend?
In spite of the insufficient advertising, Independence Hall was fairly
well filled. Some 1,500 to 1,600 were present; although perhaps 500 or
600 of the audience were boys, some of whom were not more than ten or
twelve years of age. Much time was consumed in settling upon the floor
in the front part of the hall these school-children as they arrived in
groups, one after the other; and the exercises began more than an hour
later than the time announced. The topic had been advertised as “The Five
Conditions of National Prosperity”—these being, Industry, Art, Education,
Morals, and Religion. Partly on account of somewhat heated feeling, and
partly on account of cooler judgment as to what are the needs of the
hour for Korea, I spoke with audacious plainness and with unaccustomed
energy. Dr. Jones, who was acting as interpreter—moved, I think, by
somewhat the same emotions—quite surpassed himself in vigor and in
clearness, in a fine mingling of robustness with felicity of expression.
The foreign auditors, including the interpreter himself, were inclined
to be enthusiastic over the success of the meeting. For myself, there
intervened a considerable period of distrust, both of the Koreans and of
my ability to judge them fairly. Of one thing, however, I was becoming
reasonably sure: the prophetic voice, exalting righteousness and openly
condemning the vices of cowardice, lying, injustice, and cruel prejudice
and race-hatred, is needed above all else in speech to the Koreans. I
asked myself, and was unable to answer: Are the Christian agencies at
work in Korea furnishing that voice, in a manner and measure to meet the
need?
[Illustration: Going to the Lecture at Independence Hall.]
The next morning, on returning from a walk with one of the foreign
secretaries of the Young Men’s Association, we stood for some time upon
the steps of Miss Sontag’s house discussing the decision of the day
before. All the excuses for the Korean attitude toward any endeavors to
help them which could, even in the remotest way, be connected with their
anti-Japanese prejudices, were admitted; they were indeed “natural” (in
the much-abused meaning of the word), but they were neither reasonable
nor Christian. Besides, they were rendered particularly unmanly by the
fact that these same Koreans were ready enough to profit, individually
and collectively, by Japanese money and influence; and they were
eager and crafty to use the religious institutions afforded them by
Christian money, for the furthering of heathenish purposes and even
criminal designs. The best thing which the “guest of Marquis Ito” could,
therefore, do for the Koreans themselves was to let them know how, in
his judgment, they were to be measured by the standards of morals and
religion which they had professed to adopt. On going in to tiffin,
somewhat late from this discussion, I found by my plate the cards of five
Korean gentlemen, prominent in Christian circles, who had called in my
absence. The next day information was received that these gentlemen had
come to thank me for my previous work in their country’s behalf and to
suggest their wish to have the work continued.
As a consequence of this implied invitation, one more public address
was advertised for a Korean audience in Seoul. It was to be in the
Association Hall, and its topic—“The Seven Cardinal Virtues.” On the
evening of Friday, May 3d, some four hundred were present, including the
Roman Catholic Archbishop, whose acquaintance I had made only two days
before. Either because of the hot weather, or of the character of the
address, or of the audience, the interest seemed less than at any of the
previous lectures. The time to terminate the series of talks on topics
so little stimulating and satisfying to the desire for “look-see,” and
for emotional excitement, had plainly arrived. Probably, eight addresses
on such serious topics, with an attendance averaging perhaps 500 to 600
each, ought at the present time in Korea to be gratifying to any speaker.
However this may be, the address of May 3d was the last of my experiences
with Korean audiences in Seoul.
Meantime, however, other invitations to speak in the capital city of
Korea had been received and were waiting for their turn. Soon after our
arrival, one of the Japanese pastors called to say that it had been
arranged for me, by one of the teachers, to address the patronesses of a
school for Korean girls bearing the name, and profiting by the favors, of
Lady Om. Although other plans had previously been made, in order to save
her reputation with the “leading lady” of Korea, a rebuke was sent to
this teacher for engaging her speaker without first consulting him; but
the invitation was accepted. [In justice to the Koreans, it should be
said that the person guilty of this indiscretion was a Japanese. Indeed,
to pledge the speaker, and even to select his time and topic for him, is
a sort of morally doubtful enterprise, out of which even the New Japan
has not as yet wholly emerged]. The talk at Lady Om’s School was in no
respect a success. Although both substance and style were made as simple
as possible, the Korean girl who had studied abroad and was, therefore,
thought competent to interpret, completely failed in this office. And
when the Japanese pastor, who had mediated the invitation, followed with
an address in his native language which was to convey the substance of
the same thought to the Japanese teachers and patronesses of the school,
he delivered so prolonged and brilliant an oration that the speaker whose
few simple words served as a text for it all, was obliged to commit a
breach of etiquette by leaving before the customary sequence of cakes.
In addressing Japanese audiences in Seoul, as elsewhere in Korea and
all over Japan, I felt entirely at home. It was characteristic of them
in this foreign land, as it was in the home country at the same time,
that they were, above all, desirous to hear the subjects discussed about
which I most desired to speak. The day when the nation had expected a
full salvation from “science” and military prowess, without morals, has
happily gone by. Its leaders, whether in educational circles or in the
army and navy, in civil service, and largely, too, in business, are
becoming convinced that the “spirit” of Japan must be revived, retained,
made more comprehensive, purified, elevated; if the triumphs of war are
to be followed by the wished-for successes in the ensuing peace. Thus
in Korea, as everywhere from Nagasaki to Sapporo, in primary schools,
commercial schools, and in the university, I found the interest of the
Japanese in ethical subjects supreme.
When, then, an invitation was received to be present at a banquet given
by the “Economics Club,” of which Mr. Ichihara (manager of the _Dai-Ichi
Ginko_ or branches of the First Bank of Japan in Seoul) is president, and
to speak there, I was glad of the opportunity—not only to meet friends,
but also to express certain cherished thoughts on the relations of ethics
and economics. The Marquis Ito was present at this meeting of the club
for the first time. In a lengthy address, spoken with his usual careful
“picking of words,” the Marquis emphasized the need that the Japanese
should set before the Koreans an example of honesty and fairness in their
economic relations. He dwelt upon the thought that the one hundred and
seventy who were present, and who represented the principal Japanese
business interests in Korea, should show how the Japanese national
policy is based upon the principle of unselfishness; and how Japan has
declared for, and means to stand for, “the open door.” In welcoming me
he repeated, on this public occasion, what he had said in the privacy of
the interview at Kyoto, with the following words: “Taking advantage of
his visit to Japan, I have invited Professor Ladd, whom I have the honor
and the pleasure of considering as a friend of several years standing, to
come over here and favor me with his frank and independent views on the
situation. What I want is independent views. I trust he knows this very
well. I trust his observations will be of great help to me.”
In replying to the address of His Excellency, after apologizing to
President Ichihara for criticising the school of economics in which
he had been trained (Mr. Ichihara studied this subject in the United
States), for failure to emphasize the important and unalterable relations
which exist between moral principles and economical policy, I expressed
my gratification at the triumph of the newer school which builds on
history, psychology, and ethics. I then spoke of the importance of
regarding _moral_ principles as fundamental in all practical ways, for
the most successful handling of the delicate political and economical,
as well as social interests, of both Japan and Korea. The observations of
both speakers to the same effect were seriously listened to and heartily
commended by this influential group of Japanese financiers in Korea.
Between these gentlemen and the unscrupulous and mischievous rabble of
their countrymen, who poured into Korea at the close of the war with
Russia, a grave distinction must constantly be made by those who would
understand the situation there.
The Japanese ladies in Seoul have formed themselves into several
flourishing societies, the most important of which, perhaps, is the
“Ladies’ Patriotic Association.” This Association is not only useful
as an organ for benevolent work among the widows and orphans of the
Japanese soldiers, and among the soldiers now on service in Korea, but
it has already done much to break down the barriers which exclude Korean
women of the upper classes from similar offices, as well as those which
separate the women of the two nationalities. It is, therefore, admirably
adapted to further indirectly the purposes of the Resident-General
in maintaining the honor and welfare of Japan by promoting the good
of Korea. On Wednesday of the week following the address before the
Economics Club, I spoke to some sixty Japanese ladies, and about the
same number of gentlemen, under the auspices of this Association. The
theme was the importance and value of relations of friendship between
the two countries, as an appeal to the patriotism of those who must be
relied upon to bring about these relations. A few Korean ladies also were
present at this gathering. And when, at a collation which followed in
the Japanese Club-House of Seoul, Mrs. Ladd made a short address to the
ladies, a response in few words was made in Japanese by Mrs. Megata, the
wife of the Financial Adviser to the Korean Government, and a yet longer
one, in the same language, by Mrs. Yi Chi-yung, the wife of the then
acting Korean Minister for Home Affairs. Such incidents as these may seem
trivial, but they are really noteworthy as the beginnings of what may
well grow into a satisfactory practical solution of the difficult problem
of establishing a Japanese Protectorate over Korea in a way to secure the
honor and welfare of both nations.
The remaining two addresses to Japanese audiences in Seoul were not
particularly significant as bearing upon the interests I was trying to
serve. They were, however, suggestive as to certain changes going on in
Korea which are destined to assist in the redemption of the country.
These were an address on an educational topic to about sixty teachers who
met in the fine, large brick school-building which marks conspicuously
the Japanese ideal in this matter; and a talk on the relation of religion
to social reform, given in one of the Japanese churches to an audience
of a union character, representing the Christian work among their own
countrymen by pastors imported from Japan. An address at the annual
meeting of the Bible Society, an address at a meeting of the Asiatic
Society, and one or two other talks, completed my work of this character,
so far as the city of Seoul was concerned.
It will be remembered that the more important work in which the Japanese
Resident-General in Korea hoped I might be of some assistance could
not be done merely by making public addresses, however well received
by the Koreans themselves. It was evident that his plans for uplifting
by pacific measures the economical and educational condition of the
Korean people were being misunderstood and hindered, not only by those
foreigners who had selfish interests to promote, but also by some who
ought to co-operate in every unselfish way. These “anti-Japanese”
foreigners were of several nationalities (so far as the diplomats and
business men were concerned); but the missionaries were, for the most
part, my own countrymen. In the complaint of Marquis Ito, there was
never at any time the least trace of bitterness, although the fact was
obvious that he felt the credit of his nation, as well as of his own
administration, to be deeply concerned. But surely, if both Marquis Ito
and the missionaries were striving to promote what was best for the cause
of the Korean nation and of humanity in the Far East, the disclosure
of this fact ought to make more easy the adjustment of the delicate
relations involved in the different kinds and methods of their benevolent
work. I knew that the Marquis desired this friendly understanding and
cordial co-operation. I thought it right that foreign missionaries should
be not less moved than was the Resident-General by the same desire.
Union and sympathy, rather than opposition or indifference, ought to
prevail between the industrial and educational interests and the more
definitively moral and religious.
The larger aspects of the missionary problem in Korea will be briefly
treated in another connection. At present it is enough to describe the
conclusions on this subject at which I was forced to arrive, and to tell
something of my personal experiences. There had, doubtless, been much
provocation to form a poor opinion of the character and intentions of
the Japanese populace which had crowded into the cities of Seoul and
Pyeng-yang during and after the war with Russia. They had cheated and
maltreated the Koreans and had brought suspicion and, in some instances,
disgrace upon the fair fame of Japan. None of the other foreigners were
readier to make accusation of this than were the reputable Japanese to
confess and deplore the same thing. But all the robbery and oppression by
these unfriendly foreigners was as nothing compared with what the Koreans
had suffered from their own countrymen through hundreds of years.
Moreover, at this very time, almost without exception, a Korean was to
be found back of, or associated with, a Japanese in each scheme for
swindling and in each act of injustice or oppression.
On the other hand, the conduct of some of the missionaries had not
been altogether judicious or even fair and just. As a body they seemed
inclined to be over-credulous and easy to deceive by the falsehoods
and exaggerations of their own converts. Not unnaturally, but it would
seem unwisely, they had been somewhat too extravagant in praise of the
negative virtues of the Koreans, and somewhat too sparing in demanding
the more manly moral qualities of sincerity, courage, veracity, and
sturdy loyalty to justice and to truth. And—to quote expressions heard
from the lips of some of the ladies—there had been too much talk with
foreigners and before the natives, about the “dear Koreans”; and “We
do not love the Japanese.” That certain letters home—in part private
and not designed for publication by the writer, and in part written
by missionaries themselves for the press, or by chance visitors or
newspaper correspondents to make public stories told to them by the
missionaries—had created strong impressions unfavorable to the success
of the Japanese Protectorate, was not a matter of merely private
information. Moreover, the connection, both implicit and obvious, between
these workers in the moral and religious interests of Korea and the
enterprises of Mr. Homer B. Hulbert and his colleagues in the alleged
political interests of the Korean Court, could not fail to be interpreted
by both foreigners and Koreans as hostile to the policy of the Japanese
Government. Even as late as August, 1907, an open letter—than which
anything more insulting or abusive of the Japanese nation has seldom been
published—was written by a Church of England missionary.
Dr. Jones and I had talked over the situation and the policy of the
missionary body, as touching the real and lasting advance of morals and
religion in Korea, many times before the hour when the point of turning
was reached. I had found him always frank, fair, and sympathetic with
the difficult and complicated interests of both peoples. He had assured
me that, personally, Marquis Ito was steadily gaining in the confidence
of all the foreigners, including the missionaries, and even of the
Koreans themselves. But the prejudice and bitterness of feeling toward
the Japanese generally remained unchanged; and every one seemed to be
doubting whether the policy of the Resident-General could win its way.
I had steadily maintained the position that, whatever might have been
true in the past, the welfare of Korea and the success of missions there,
depended upon a positive and hearty co-operation of all the factors
common to both forms of good influence. I had previously told Marquis
Ito that, in my judgment, the Christian movement now in progress would
be the most important help toward the success of his policy in uplifting
the Korean people. His Excellency, I had said to Dr. Jones, had held
out the hand to the missionaries; for them, through fear of losing
influence among the Koreans, or _especially at the Korean Court_, to
refuse to take this hand, seemed to me not only unwise but in a measure
un-Christian. Without the success of the powerful influence wielded by
the Resident-General for the economical and educational improvement of
Korea—for developing its industries, founding schools and hospitals,
making the conditions of life more comfortable and sanitary, purging the
corrupt court, and securing law, order, and the administration of justice
in the country magistracies—preaching, Bible-teaching, and colporteurage,
must remain forever relatively unavailing. Moreover, I was becoming
convinced that a large proportion of the present interest of the Koreans
in the missionary movement had, either in pure or mixed form, political
motives behind it.
It was on Thursday, May 2d, that the _Korean Daily News_—the paper
whose most obvious purpose seemed to be, in its English edition, to
foster prejudice against the Japanese and to obstruct the policy of
the Resident-General, and in its native edition to mislead the Koreans
and excite them to sedition—published the following “telegrams about
Korea from American papers” as likely to “prove of local interest”
(_sic_). [It should be remembered that this date was only some ten days
after the assassination of the Minister of the Household Department,
Mr. Pak Yong-wha, and somewhat more than a month after the attempted
assassination of the Minister of War.] “American missionaries writing
from Korea recently tell of a most intolerable state of affairs in
that country where the Japanese have been acting in such a high-handed
manner as to cause even the humble native to revolt. The Emperor is
held a prisoner and appears to be in daily terror of his life. Nor
have the aggressions of the Japanese been confined to the natives of
Korea. Americans, engaged chiefly in mining enterprises, had it plainly
demonstrated that Korea is no place for them and that they would better
move out. A representative of these mining interests” (the true story of
this ‘mining representative’ will be told elsewhere) “is now either at or
on his way to Washington to see if they cannot obtain redress from their
government. This latest development in the Korean situation, the boycott,
will doubtless precipitate matters in Korea.”
These “telegrams,” published May 2d in Seoul, bore date of San Francisco,
April 1st. It so happened that Dr. Jones came to my office on the early
morning of the date of this publication. Finding that he had not read
the article in the _Korean Daily News_, I called his attention to it;
and I then spoke more plainly about the urgent necessity of a change of
attitude on the part of the missionaries than I had ever spoken before.
It was apparent, I urged, that the negative, non-committal position
would no longer suffice. Instead of its being justifiable under the plea
of not engaging in politics, the very reverse was true. The missionaries
in Korea, either unwittingly or half-willingly, were being used, both
in Korea and in the United States, to foster anti-Japanese feeling as
supported by exaggerations, falsehoods, and only half-truths. They were
thus, I feared, helping to encourage the very worst and most dangerous
elements in both countries. There was real danger that, if this course
was persisted in, the peaceful policy of Marquis Ito, with its patient
and generous effort to promote the development of the Korean people,
might be discouraged. And if the mailed fist were invited, or seemed
necessary, to maintain the reasonable and unalterable intention of Japan
never again to leave Korea to be a prey to foreign intrigues against
herself and to the degradation of its own corrupt government, the cause
of Christian missions in Korea surely would not fare better than it
easily could by establishing friendly relations of co-operation with the
existing Protectorate. The events of October, 1895, and of the following
years, ought not to be so easily forgotten.
Two days later the following, under the heading of “Marquis Ito and
Christian Missionaries,” appeared in the _Seoul Press_. “His Excellency
Marquis Ito received Dr. George Heber Jones and Dr. W. B. Scranton on
Thursday afternoon. The work of the churches in Korea was discussed
and the visitors assured His Excellency that the reports, reproduced
from American papers, claiming that the Christian missionaries were
antagonistic to the Resident-General and his policy in Korea, neither
represented their personal sentiments nor those of their colleagues;
that His Excellency might feel assured of their sincere sympathy and
co-operation in all measures looking toward the betterment of the Korean
people. The missionaries make it a rule to stand aloof from political
matters, finding in the moral and spiritual uplift of the Korean people
full scope for activity.”
“His Excellency assured the visitors that he gave no credence to the
reports thus circulated, and that he entertained no suspicion nor doubt
of the missionaries in Korea. He fully recognized the value of the work
they were doing for the moral and spiritual betterment of the Koreans,
and wished them every success.”
This public announcement of the establishment of friendly relations
between the Marquis Ito and an influential portion of the missionary
body in Korea was drawn up in semi-official fashion. The gentlemen who
undertook the duty of making the advances toward the Resident-General
were convicted—as is every one who comes into anything approaching
familiar relations with him—of the complete sincerity of his purpose
toward the people of Korea, and of his frank and fair-minded policy
toward all foreign interests. The Marquis himself, after the interview,
requested that the substance of it might be made known to the public.
Each party prepared with care the few words which declared this unselfish
alliance between the representative of His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor
of Japan, in Korea and these representative teachers of religion, in
the common effort to promote the industrial, educational, moral, and
religious welfare of a hitherto unhappy nation. Such an alliance—as we
may reasonably hope—will contribute to the reputation for wisdom and
unselfishness of both parties to it. At any rate, as soon appeared, the
immediate results were in the direction of an enlarged future good.
CHAPTER IV
LIFE IN SEOUL (_CONTINUED_)
The winter and spring of 1907 in Korea were, from the point of view of
one interested in this kind of politics, a very lively period, even
for a country traditionally accustomed to similar performances. Four
attempts at assassination of the Ministry—one of which was successful;
daily disclosures of intrigue, plot and counter-plot; revolts against
the country magistrates which took the form of refusal to pay taxes, of
attacks upon the police, and of highway robbery; plans for plundering
the resources of the nation under plausible pretence of schemes for
“promoting” the nation’s resources; foolish excitements selfishly
fostered by writers for the press who had their own interests to secure;
and quite as foolish, but less selfish, endeavors for increase of
public welfare, by those benevolently inclined; secret arrangements for
the despatch of the unfortunate delegation to the Hague, accompanied
by stealings from the impoverished royal treasury to the extent of
several hundred thousand _yen_; and, finally, a change, not only in the
_personnel_ of the Ministry but in its very constitution and mode of
procedure, which amounted to a bloodless revolution—these and other like
events were crowded into this one half-year. Meantime, especially after
the return of the Resident-General, the foundations of a new industrial
and educational development were being laid; and the arrangements for a
systematic administration of law and justice were quietly made ready. An
extensive religious revival was in progress—with phenomena corresponding
to those familiar to students of such subjects, when the moral power of a
higher religion first makes itself felt among a people who are ignorant
devil- and spirit-worshippers and are habitually negligent or corrupt in
respect of the manliest virtues. All this ferment was both caused, and
pervaded in its characteristics, by the Korean national hatred of the
race that was destined to subdue and, as we hope, redeem them.
During Marquis Ito’s absence in Japan those opposed to the workings
of the recently established Japanese Protectorate over Korea were
indeed busily engaged. Their various enterprises took the several forms
mentioned above. As to assassination, one unsuccessful attempt had
been made some time before the Marquis’ return to Korea. A beautiful
box of nickel was sent as a present to acting Prime Minister Pak. No
one of the Korean Court, being wise in their generation, ventured to
examine its contents or even to raise the lid of the box. Subsequently
the Resident-General examined it himself. It proved to be an ingenious
contrivance by which the turning of the key and lifting the lid would
pull the trigger of a pistol and explode the powder with which the
box was filled. Both box and pistol were of American manufacture. The
intention of the pretended present, which it was doubtless hoped would
be the more eagerly accepted and naïvely dealt with, since it ostensibly
came from so “friendly” a country, needs no investigation. The precise
source of the murderous gift will perhaps never be accurately known.
The day but one before our arrival in Seoul another unsuccessful attempt
at political murder was made—this time in daylight and upon one of the
principal thoroughfares. The object of attack was Mr. Kwon, the Minister
of War, who was riding in a jinrikisha surrounded by his official guard.
The following account is taken from the _Seoul Press_ of Friday, March
29th:
The Korean Minister of War had a narrow escape on Monday from
a daring attempt on his life. The would-be assassins—there
were two or probably more—succeeded in getting away from the
Japanese policeman in the Korean service, who seems to have had
a most desperate struggle with them and some people who came to
their assistance (that is, the assistance of the assassins).
He, however, succeeded in taking the pistol, which had been
fired twice upon the Minister, happily without any effect.
One of the accomplices was shortly after arrested by another
Japanese policeman in the Korean service in the vicinity of
the Minister’s residence. According to a statement made by
this prisoner, he belongs to a band of eighteen men from South
Korea, who are alleged to have recently entered Seoul for the
purpose of assassinating the Cabinet Ministers. These men are
further alleged to be the remnants of the so-called “volunteer”
insurgents of last year. There seems, however, reason to
suspect the truth of this statement; it is not unlikely that
motives of a political character have been adduced to cover a
crime prompted by personal enmity or rivalry. Such things have
constantly occurred in this country in recent years. Rumors are
rife as to the true origination of the dastardly attempt on
Mr. Kwon’s life, but we do not consider it necessary to take
any notice of them; they are mostly of such an extraordinary
character that they will certainly be dismissed as utterly
inconceivable by anybody not accustomed to the peculiar ways of
politics in Seoul.
One remark should be added to complete this public account; and one other
to enable the observer to read between the lines. There were Korean
body-guards and policemen and citizens at hand; but only one Japanese
policeman made any attempt to save the Minister’s life or to arrest the
assassins. The rumors rife, so inconceivable to “anybody not accustomed”
to the “politics” of Seoul, suggested, as usual, that it would be
well not to examine too closely into the plot, lest some one might be
uncovered who stood “higher up” in the court circles of Korea.
The third attempt at assassination was limited to the discovery and
immediate flight of the intruder as he was trying to climb the wall of
the enclosure of acting Prime Minister Pak. But the fourth attempt did
not terminate so harmlessly. In brief, the history of this political
murder was as follows (its date was April 21st):
On Sunday evening, Mr. Pak Yong-hwa, Director of the Audit
Bureau of the Imperial Household Department, was assassinated
at his house. On that evening Mr. Pak had nearly a dozen
visitors, and while he was conversing with them shortly after
ten o’clock, the card of another visitor, not known to him,
was brought in. Mr. Pak saw the man in a separate room, and
no sooner had he begun to talk with him than another man
rushed into the room through a window and stabbed Mr. Pak in
the right breast, inflicting a wound four inches deep. Seeing
their victim drop mortally wounded, the assassins hurriedly
left, discharging a few shots from their revolvers to prevent
pursuit. They are said to have been attired in foreign dress,
and from their accent it is inferred that they are most
probably from Keng-Sang-do.
The unfortunate Minister died from his wound while in the palanquin on
the way to the Japanese hospital. Marquis Ito, supposing from the news
received by telephone that acting Prime Minister Pak was the victim,
started at once for the hospital; but learning, before reaching there,
of the real name of the victim, and of his death, he returned to the
Residency. The next day H. M. the Emperor caused a chamberlain to pay
a visit of condolence to Mr. Pak’s residence; but the city of Seoul
and the country of Korea went about its business of intrigue or its
work of tilling the fields, as though nothing unusual had happened. The
distinction between such events here and in Russia should be borne in
mind by one trying to estimate their significance. In Korea there is
no immediate tangible interest, affecting life, liberty, or property,
for the individual, at stake, to justify violence. Where the real
reasons are not thoroughly selfish and corrupt—as indeed in most cases
they are—a misguided patriotism, with a large mixture of hypocritical
sentimentality, is the motive for the political murders of Korea. The
real patriots, if their feeling is intense enough and their courage
sufficient, commit suicide; and those of less degree of intensity refuse
to accept office under a foreign protectorate!
In general, it had hitherto been only the court officials themselves
who much cared as to what persons were selected by the Emperor for the
different high offices in Seoul itself. They, too, had been chiefly
interested in the more serious question as to who it is of these
officials that gets himself assassinated. The peasants and pedlers, who
are the travelling merchants in the country districts, care only about
the local magistrates and about the bearable amount of their “squeezes.”
But under the administration of Marquis Ito assassination of officers
whose character and official acts sustain such important relations to
the vital interests of both Japan and Korea, cannot now be allowed its
traditional impunity. Investigation into the authors and promoters of
this plot, therefore, quietly began and was carried as far upward as
seemed desirable or necessary. According to the _Korean Daily News_, the
three Koreans—La In-yung, Aw Ki-ho, and Kim In-sik—who on April 1st “went
to the Supreme Court in Seoul and gave themselves up, stating that they
were the ones who had tried to kill the Minister of War,” “seem to have
been actuated by no selfish impulses.” The same paper calls attention to
the claim that the plan was to kill all the five Cabinet Ministers “who
signed the last treaty with Japan”; and also to the fact that these same
men had been to Japan to memorialize the Japanese Emperor with reference
to the condition of Korea under the protectorate of the empire whose
head was His Majesty himself. This is as far as the paper cared to go at
this time in apologizing for the attempt at wholesale murder; but there
is no doubt that the attempt itself was not at all displeasing to the
court officials of the other party than the one in power or to the people
generally.
The truer story is as follows: The searchings of the police after
those who attempted the assassination of the Minister of War resulted
in picking up a number of them from various quarters. These rascals
were cross-questioned and one of them confessed and implicated as
back of the plot financially, no less important a personage than the
ex-Minister of the Imperial Household, Yi Yong-tai. This is the man who
was once prevented by foreign influence, on account of his thoroughly
evil reputation, from going to Washington as Minister from Korea. He is
known as a past-master in all kinds of craft and corruption, thoroughly
untrustworthy; although he had formerly been elevated by the Emperor to
the position of Minister of the Interior. Now, it so happened that at
the very time of the examination of the assassins, this same gentleman
was in an adjoining room where he and those with him could easily hear
everything said in answer to the cross-questioning. It is no wonder,
then, that Mr. Yi Yong-tai confessed that he himself was indeed one of
the band of patriots who had attempted the gallant measure of paying
hired assassins to make way with their political rivals—as I have already
said, a recognized, legitimate political measure throughout Korean
history.
The progress and result of the investigations into this plot of
assassination are so significant that this summary account from the
_Seoul Press_ is well worthy of reflective consideration:
The authors of the late unsuccessful attempt on the life of
Mr. Kwon, the War Minister, have at last been established. The
plot is of much greater magnitude than originally supposed,
and more than thirty men are now under arrest. The leaders of
the conspiracy are two South Chul-la-do men, La In-yung and
Aw Ki-ho by name. It is stated that they are men of learning
and command some respect among their neighbors. Some days ago
they surrendered themselves to the Supreme Court and confessed
all that had happened. From their own statements it appears
that the events which led them to the dastardly attempt are
rather historical than temporary. Since the days of the
Japan-China war they have been imbued with the idea that the
peace of Korea could be preserved only through the separate
independence of Japan, China, and Korea. Guided by this idea
they did all things in their power to prevent Russia from
gaining ascendancy in this country after that war; and on the
outbreak of the Russo-Japanese war they prayed, so they say,
for the victory of Japan, as her Imperial declaration of war
made reference to the maintenance of the territorial integrity
of the peninsula. In June, 1905, the two men, with one Yi, a
school teacher, went over to Tokyo and made representations to
the Household Department and Cabinet Ministers, petitioning
for Korea’s independence. On learning from the Japanese press
that the conclusion of a treaty was on the _tapis_ between
Japan and Korea, which would transfer the conduct of Korean
foreign affairs into the hands of the former, they immediately
wired to Mr. Pak, the Premier, requesting him not to sign the
Convention, even if his life were threatened. The Convention,
however, soon became an accomplished fact in November, 1905,
and the three left Tokyo for home in the next month. But
they soon found it impossible to enjoy tranquillity at home.
Japan began steadily to perform that which the Convention of
November, 1905, provided for, and they again crossed to Japan,
in April, 1906. They vainly attempted to persuade some Japanese
politicians to start a movement for the realization of their
cherished ideal. Discouraged by another failure, they once
more returned to Seoul, and on the initiative of La In-yung,
they came to the terrible decision that the Premier and four
Ministers of State, who were responsible for the conclusion of
the Convention, should be assassinated in order to admit of
the present Government being replaced by a new administration,
composed of men of greater ability and capable of forcing
Japan to restore to Korea the conduct of her own affairs. They
were thus awaiting the advent of a good opportunity.
On the other hand, a survivor of the Chi Ik-hyun rebellion,
named Pak Tai-ha, with Kim Tong-pil, arrested on Tuesday,
and a few others discontented with the present _régime_,
were conspiring here to raise another rebellion; and La and
Aw, happening to come in contact with these men, a special
friendship was soon contracted between them. Pak and his
associates were prevailed upon by La and Aw to abandon their
own plan and join the plot against the Government in power.
Here stepped in another person, by name Kim In-sik, hailing
from North Chul-la-do. Having many acquaintances among the
officials of the Government, especially among those now
out of power, Kim was asked to raise a fund necessary for
the achievement of their common cause; and he succeeded in
drawing a sufficient sum from the discontents. Yi Yong-tai,
ex-Minister of the Imperial Household, now under arrest, headed
the subscription list by contributing 1,700 _yen_, and this
was followed by 1,200 _yen_ by Min Hyung-sik, Vice-Minister
of Education, who was arrested on Thursday night, through
the medium of Chi Ik-chin, Chief of the Accounts Section of
the Imperial Guards Bureau in the Household Department, who,
in turn, was also arrested on Thursday night. A few minor
contributions were made by ex-officials, making a total of
3,400 _yen_.
The date originally fixed for the assassination of the
five Ministers was the 1st of the first moon, when all
the high dignitaries proceed to the Palace to offer their
congratulations to the Emperor. They hired a number of men in
Chul-la-do and Kyöng-sang-do for the purpose; but the plan
miscarried owing to the belated arrival of these men. The 25th
of May was then chosen. Some fifty men came up to town in
time from the above two provinces, and five bands, each under
the command of a leader, were posted along the roads leading
to the Palace from the respective residences of the Premier,
Ministers of the Interior, War, Education and Justice, and Mr.
Yi Kun-tak. The company commanded by Aw Ki-ho, which was to do
away with Mr. Pak, failed through the hesitation of the hired
men; but Yi Hong-tai’s company, charged with the killing of
the War Minister, had courage enough to make an attempt. Their
efforts, however, proved abortive, and led to the detection of
the plot.
An analysis of this group of Korean officials and commoners, bent on
wholesale political murder of their own countrymen in office, because the
latter were avowedly committed to a reform of the economical and judicial
condition of Korea, without distinction as to the ill success, or even,
in certain particular cases, the unfaithfulness of these “reformers”
shows it to have been composed of three classes of persons. There were,
first, the high-class officials who, with one exception, were themselves
at the time among the party of the “outs”; and who undoubtedly found
in this fact the chief crime of the Japanese administration against
themselves. There were, second, the misguided patriots who, beginning
with an honorable but vain unwillingness to admit the incapacity of
their country to manage its own affairs, had sunken to the condition of
prejudice and hatred which made them plan to murder their own cabinet
ministers, because the latter had, however reluctantly, admitted this
incapacity and acted accordingly. And there was, third, that basest of
all criminals, the cold-blooded, unprincipled, hired assassin.
The administration of justice in an even-handed manner is peculiarly
difficult in Korea; and, indeed, until recently no serious attempt at
such a thing has ever been made. In the case of this complicated plot
for assassinating the entire Korean Cabinet, it should be borne in mind
that several of its chief promoters were very highly connected; they
were, indeed, connected well up towards His Imperial Majesty on his
throne. Considering this fact, the issue when reached showed a marked
improvement already established in judicial affairs. It was indeed
rumored—and perhaps correctly—that Mr. Min Hyung-sik, the Vice-Minister
of Education, underwent preliminary examination, in the old-fashioned
Korean style, by being cruelly beaten. And the anti-Japanese press tried
to make it count against Marquis Ito’s measures for judicial reform that
he had not prevented the traditional Korean mode of torturing suspects!
But this way of examining criminals was still legal in Korea. It was
also said that Mr. Yi Yon-yung, chief of the Supreme Court, sent in his
resignation, on the ground that, as his younger brother was one of the
five ministers who were doomed to death by the assassins, it would not be
fair for him to try the case.
At the time of our leaving Seoul the trial of these conspirators was
not finished. But on Wednesday, July 3d, at 4 P. M., the Supreme
Court returned judgment upon twenty-nine persons who had been tried
and convicted of connection with the plot to assassinate those Korean
officials who took part in the Japanese-Korean Convention of November,
1905. Three of the hired murderers who, besides this crime, were found to
have been previously guilty of armed robbery, were sentenced to death.
The others received sentences of exile (a penalty feared more than death
by many Korean officials), for periods of from five to ten years. Among
those to whom the longest sentence of exile was measured out, were the
notable names of Yi Yong-tai, ex-Minister of the Imperial Household;
Soh Chang-sik, ex-Minister Resident, and my auditor at the lectures on
education, Min Hyung-sik, Vice-Minister of Education.
Even while the examination of this group of assassins was going on, and
after the change in the Ministry had been effected, another plot against
the lives of the same men was discovered. This conspiracy was, however,
less important as respects the rank of the persons involved and less
extensive in the number of those participating. Most of the ten Koreans
thought to be concerned in it belonged to the Yang-ban class, or the
“gentry,” and all were followers of Confucianism. The opinion prevailed
that the motive of these conspirators was scarcely to any degree
patriotic; but that their principal object was to collect money from the
disappointed political groups of the capital. At all events, seven of
the criminals were arrested, the plot broken up thoroughly, and another
lesson given to Korean officialdom that assassination is no longer to be
so sure a path to official promotion and Imperial influence as it has too
often been in the past history of the country.
An amusing but significant incident illustrative of Korean official
procedure came under my own observation. Prince Tokugawa, who had been
staying somewhat more than a week at Miss Sontag’s, before leaving
Korea, gave an “at home” to about one hundred and fifty invited guests.
Soon after the company had assembled, and while the ladies were in the
drawing-room and the gentlemen in the large outer, enclosed verandah,
suddenly the electric lights went out and the company were left in
total darkness. The gentleman with whom I was conversing at the moment
and I looked through the glass doors of the verandah and observed that
the electric lights outside were still burning. At this discovery my
companion, who had had some experience in the ways of Seoul diplomacy,
became somewhat disturbed, and remarked: “Such things sometimes happen
by previous arrangement.” Almost immediately after the sudden darkness
came on, a servant emerged from the dining-hall with a lighted taper, and
crossing to the drawing-room proceeded to light the numerous candelabra.
At the heels of the servant followed Prince Eui Wha, pale with fright,
on his way from the verandah to the drawing-room, where he slipped
behind a barricade of ladies and planted himself against the wall. It
should be remembered in explanation of so singular behavior that this
Prince, although he is the Emperor’s son by a concubine, is hated by
no fewer than three different parties; these are the Min family, who
favor the succession of the son of the Queen; the party of Lady Om, who
would gladly see her young son come to the throne; and the violently
anti-Japanese crowd who believe that Prince Eui Wha is too much under
Japanese influences. It had been rumored previously that a letter had
threatened him with assassination. However this may be, the present was
not the expected occasion; for examination showed that the burning-out of
a fuse was the real cause of the sudden darkness: and a servant repaired
the connection so that, just as a workman hastily summoned from the
electric plant, entered the front door, the lights as suddenly came on
again.
The plots for assassination undoubtedly contributed to the causes which
had already for some time been at work to make necessary a change in the
Ministry. In spite of the enmity which the existing Cabinet had excited
on account of its unwilling part in the Convention of November, 1905,
it had held together for a remarkably long period of time. Not all its
members, however, were equally sincere or efficient in carrying out
the reforms to which they had pledged themselves; at least one of its
members had been accused of a notable attempt at the old-time manner of
corrupt administration of office. The Il Chin-hoi people, or members
of a numerous so-called “Independence Society,” had been “heckling the
Cabinet Ministers” by accusing them of venality and incapacity. In a
memorial forwarded to the Government by its committee, the beginning
read: “We herewith write you and enumerate your faults”; the memorial
ended with the amusingly frank declaration: “The only thing for you
Cabinet Ministers to do is to resign your posts and retire into private
life. Your armed body-guards are entirely useless. If you do your
duties assiduously and honestly, every one will love you; but if you
pursue idle and vicious courses, every man’s hand will be against you.”
Moreover, the acting Prime Minister Pak, although of good intentions,
had not developed the ability to lead and control his colleagues, and he
was probably acting wisely when he insisted on having his resignation
accepted. The resignation of their chief involved the resignations of
all and the formation of a new Ministry—although not necessarily of a
Ministry composed wholly of new members.
On returning to “Maison Sontag” about ten o’clock (Wednesday, May 22d)
from dining out we found our hostess rather worn in body and mentally
disturbed; she had herself just reached home after some seven hours of
continuous service in the Palace. Mademoiselle also appeared anxious
about the comfort and health of the Marquis Ito, who had himself been
there during a similar long period, and who had eaten and drunk nothing
except a sandwich and a glass of claret sent in by her to His Excellency.
The resignation of Premier Pak had been tendered on the Monday previous.
The next morning but one, the _Seoul Press_, published the following
announcement:
Marquis Ito’s audience with the Emperor of Korea on Wednesday
was a protracted one, it being nearly ten o’clock in the
evening before His Excellency left the palace. During the
five hours that he was with His Majesty, the old cabinet was
dismissed and a new one called into existence. The new Ministry
thus formed is composed as follows:
Prime Minister, Yi Wan-yong.
Minister of Justice, Yi Ha-yong.
Minister of Finance, Min Yong-ki.
Minister of the Interior, In Sun-jun.
Minister of War, Yi Pyong-mu.
Minister of Education, Yi Chai-kon.
As the same paper subsequently remarked, this change of government, which
had taken place with a quite unequalled promptitude and quiet, followed
upon a conversation in which the “Resident-General spoke to the Emperor
on the general situation in a remarkably frank and outspoken manner.”
The substance of this conversation between Marquis Ito and the Korean
Emperor in this memorable interview was probably somewhat as follows: His
Majesty was reminded of the Marquis’ regret that a change of Ministry had
become necessary; for under existing circumstances it was desirable to
avoid as much as possible the friction likely to accompany such a change.
But Minister Pak insisted on resigning and the others, of course, must
follow his example. Now the history of the country showed, as the Emperor
well knew, that changes in the Cabinet were a signal for all manner of
confusion in the Government, caused by the intrigue of parties contending
for the control. Promptness of action would alone prevent this. His
Excellency wished to remain in the palace until the new Ministry was
constituted. Under existing circumstances it was most desirable that
the new Prime Minister should be a man who could be trusted; and that,
in order to secure internal harmony and freedom from intrigue within
the Cabinet itself, he should have a choice in the selection of his
colleagues. He should also have a policy, should explain it to the
others, and thus secure their intelligent and hearty co-operation and
support. In His Excellency’s opinion, Mr. Yi Wan-yong, the then acting
Minister of Education, was the man, of all others, most suitable for the
position of Premier. This advice—accompanied, as it doubtless was, by
words of plain but friendly warning as to the consequences of continuing
the old-time policy of intrigue, deceit, and submission to the counsels
of base-born and unscrupulous fellows, who were always planning to
deceive and rob the Emperor in order to profit themselves—was finally
followed.
The Ministry of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry, which for practical
importance stood next to that of the Prime Minister, and which had been
rather unworthily filled by its previous occupant, was for the time
being combined with the Prime Minister’s. Soon after, the Minister of
Justice and the Minister of Finance of the new Cabinet insisted upon
resigning, and Mr. Cho Chung-yung and Mr. Ko Yong-hui were appointed to
the vacant positions. At the same time the vacant portfolio which had
been temporarily left in the hands of the Prime Minister was given to Mr.
Song Pyong-chun. With these changes and this additional appointment a
new Cabinet was arranged in the briefest possible time, without popular
excitement, and without opportunity for corrupt intrigue.
An analysis of the _personnel_ of the new Ministry shows that it was
composed of comparatively young men and of men who had, on the whole,
previously sustained a fair reputation. It also was much more obviously
a reform Cabinet; its material was both more mouldable and more
homogeneous. The Home Minister had been the President of “Song-kyun
College” (a Confucian institution); the War Minister, who was speedily
made a Major-General, had received a thorough military education in Japan
and had been director of the Korean Military Academy. The new Minister of
Education had at one time been Vice-Minister in the same department.
Almost immediately the new Cabinet, in accordance with the significant
decision to hold a Council every Tuesday at the official residence of
the Resident-General, met to shape a more definite public policy. A full
report of the speech made to them on this occasion by Marquis Ito, and of
the response made by Premier Yi, was published for Korea, Japan, and all
the world to read. In this address the Marquis claimed that he had now,
since his arrival one year ago, acted in perfect good faith, with the
immovable intention to do all in his power to cement friendship between
Japan and Korea, and to develop the latter’s resources. The most urgent
need for Korea at present was a reformed administration. Reviewing the
history of the past thirty years in the Far East, with which his own
experiences had made him particularly familiar, he recalled before them
his persistent advocacy of peaceful measures as opposed to those of a
punitive war. But it was for Korea herself to say whether such measures
should prevail as would insure her independence in home affairs and
peaceful self-development, or not. If the present Cabinet did not agree
with him, let them frankly and bravely say, No! If they concurred in
his opinion, let them free themselves of selfish motives and unite in
bringing about the common good. To this address of Marquis Ito, Mr. Yi,
the Premier, replied in behalf of his colleagues. After thanking the
Resident-General for his advice, he promised that the new Ministry would
unite under his guidance, and “despite all obstacles and in the face of
any dangers that might lie in the way, would endeavor to attain their
object—the best good of their country.”
Other measures followed rapidly, all of which tended to constitute
a Cabinet which should be a really effective administrative body,
relatively free from court intrigue and from the fear of internal
treachery. These measures, taken together, secured a new official system,
the beginnings of real government for the first time in the history of
Korea, as the following quotation will show:
According to the new system the present Council of State is
to be called hereafter the Cabinet, and the President of the
Council of State the Prime Minister. The respective Ministers
of State shall give their advice to the Emperor, and be
responsible for the management of important matters of State.
All laws, imperial edicts, the budget, the final account, any
and all expenditure that is not provided for in the budget, the
appointment, dismissal and promotion of Government officials
and officers, amnesty and pardon, and other affairs of State,
shall require the deliberation and consent of all the Ministers
of State as well as the counter-signature of them all. In
short, the new system aims at the enlargement of the power of
the Government in order to enable it to stand independent of
outward influence.
How complete a bloodless revolution was accomplished in this quiet and
almost unnoticed way will be made more apparent later on when it can be
viewed in its larger historical and political settings. That His Majesty
the Korean Emperor did not like the change, needs scarcely to be said.
The enlargement of the power of the Government meant the diminishing of
the Imperial power to dispose of the offices, the possessions, not only
of the Crown but also of individuals and of the nation, and the lives of
the subjects, without regard to law, order, justice, or the semblance of
equity. There is equally little need to say that the Yang-bans and the
corrupt courtiers and local magistrates, as well as the court-eunuchs and
sorceresses, were in the opposition. But only by such changes is to be
constituted the true “Passing of Korea,” in a manner to commend itself
to every genuine patriot and to all foreigners who honestly care for the
good of the Koreans and for the welfare of the Far East.
The Emperor at first was reported to have attacks of being “indisposed,”
which prevented his seeing the Ministers when they came for consultation,
or for the imperial sanction to their acts under the new _régime_. But,
on the whole, his health gradually so improved that he was able to accept
the situation with more apparent acquiescence, if not inner complacency.
And the fright which soon arose over the serious consequences that were
to follow his alleged Commission of Koreans and their “foreign friend”
to enter formal protest against Japan at The Hague Peace Conference, at
least for the time being made the humiliations suffered from his own
subjects at home the easier to be borne.
According to unfailing Korean custom, it was to be expected that
the ex-Ministers would become at once opponents of their successors
in office and powerful factors in the intrigues designed to destroy
the influence of the latter with the Emperor. The success of the new
Ministry, especially in the matter of those reforms which made Marquis
Ito’s administration so obnoxious to the ruling classes, was therefore in
peril from the Ministry that had resigned. But influence of a private and
suspicious character with His Majesty had become, under the new _régime_,
less important and less likely to be profitable; and the ex-Ministers
were not only to be rendered innocuous, even if any of them might at any
time be disposed to do harm, but were also themselves to be committed by
motives of personal interest to a more responsible, relatively reformed
mode of administering national affairs. The new Korean Government
decided to “create” the office of “Councillor in the Privy Council”; the
ex-Ministers were themselves promptly appointed to this office. They
were given comfortable salaries, and three of them—including the one who
had been publicly reported as having put on a coat-of-mail and secreted
himself in his own house, through fear of assassination, at the time of
his resignation—were sent on a tour of inspection to Japan. Here they
were received in audience by His Imperial Majesty the Emperor of Japan,
and so well treated that they might reasonably be expected to return to
their own country with a spirit of hearty co-operation in measures for
reforming the condition of their own country after the Japanese model.
Among the other events of the spring months of 1907 was one which, while
in itself considered, was relatively unimportant, was destined to become
of no small political influence upon the Japanese policy in Korea and
upon the relation of the Emperor and the court circle to that policy.
This was the sudden departure, after selling his effects at auction, of
Mr. Homer B. Hulbert. It does not belong to the story we have to tell, to
speak of the previous history of this gentleman in Korea, or of his views
on historical subjects when involving the character of the Japanese,
except so far as the statement of the facts and truths of history makes
such reference—mostly indirect—indispensable. But on this particular
occasion what transpired of Mr. Hulbert’s transactions with the Emperor
is so intimately connected with the political events of the period that
some special mention of them cannot properly be omitted.
Immediately on my return from Chemulpo, Wednesday, May 8th, I found
the excitement of the day was over the following questions: “What was
Mr. Hulbert’s motive for leaving Seoul so suddenly? Where is he going?
and What is his business?” Now the _Korean Daily News_, the violently
anti-Japanese paper which was currently believed to receive the support
of Mr. Hulbert, in the forms of friendship with its editor, writing
some of its editorials, and interest in its receiving subsidies, had
just published as a despatch from Paris (dated May 3d) the following
illuminating statements: “Korea will also participate in The Hague Peace
Conference”; but then again: “It is reported that Japan will represent
Korea at the Conference.” The conjecture, therefore, was very promptly
made by those in the diplomatic service in Seoul that the Emperor had
again given another large sum of money to the same hands, with the same
hope, as formerly, of procuring foreign assistance or even intervention.
This was, however, hard to credit even by those most suspicious; for,
from the Japanese point of view, such a transaction would have been on
the recipient’s part very like “obtaining money under false pretences,”
and on the giver’s part, a breach of the compact with Japan which might
seriously impair, or even endanger, the imperial interests. That such a
commission was a breach of treaty-obligations will be made perfectly
clear when we come to narrate the true history of the compact made in
November, 1905.
Inquiry resulted only in finding that Mr. Hulbert’s real plans in going,
and even his reasons for going at all, had not been confided to any of
his most intimate friends. His Korean associates, outside of the very few
higher officials that might be in the secret, held the absurd opinion
that he had been bought off from his devotion to them by the Marquis
Ito, to whose official residence he had resorted for a conference and
an agreement as to terms. To the other foreigners he had assigned the
condition of his family affairs as the reason for his removal. To one of
his more intimate friends among the missionaries he had claimed that,
having heard of a wealthy American who might be induced to give a large
sum of money to found an educational institution in Korea, he was going
to try to secure the gift. The only points of agreement were that the
journey was to be made over the Siberian Railway, and that there was
to be a considerable stop in St. Petersburg. In a quite unexpected but
entirely authentic way it became known to me within a few hours that Mr.
Hulbert had indeed gone from Seoul with a large gift of money from His
Majesty and with an important commission to execute. Although the precise
amount of the imperial gift continued for some time to be variously
estimated and reported, and although its precise uses may never be
inquired into—not to say made public; that a Commission appeared at The
Hague, and its fate, are now matters of the world’s political history. As
such, it will be referred to elsewhere.[3]
It would be a great mistake, however, to suppose that Seoul had no
other charms for us as visitors than the opportunity for delivering
lectures and for witnessing, from outside and inside points of view,
the human puppets which suppose themselves to be defeating the plans
of that Supreme Ethical Spirit who shapes the destiny of nations, in
partnership with those who partake of the spirit with which He inspires
the “men of good-will.” The Court intrigues, and even the assassination
of the Ministry, had little disturbing effect upon foreign business or
foreign social life in the capital of Korea. With the former it made no
difference of practical importance beyond the temporary check, perhaps,
to some promoting scheme which depended upon the personality of the Court
favorites for its Imperial support. There was no particular reason why
society should heed such familiar occurrences. The weather was fine;
the luxuriant bloom of the Korean spring and the vivid and changeful
coloring of the mountains surrounding Seoul, invited to out-of-doors
entertainments; and no foreigner’s life was then in any danger. For, as
to the last feature favoring open-air sociability, the foreign visitor
or resident need have little fear within the city walls, so long as the
mob is not aroused and in control. Aside from one or two articles in the
_Seoul Press_, and the grave rebukes of the Resident-General, I neither
heard, nor heard of, any voice raised against the immorality and crime of
political intrigue and political assassination. There was at the time no
Savonarola or Martin Luther in Korea. But, then, in what part of America,
or country of Europe, is such a prophet now to be found? In Korea, as
elsewhere, politics and morals seemed only remotely related, even in the
minds of the teachers of religion.
The foreign society of Seoul, including, of course, the Japanese,
is small, but homogeneous and agreeable. It is, indeed, composed of
several nationalities and of varied occupations—from that of the shrewd
and hardened diplomat to the unsuspecting but devout missionary. But
whatever differences of views and habits, or more important oppositions,
lie hidden beneath, when the gathering is social, there is a cordial
interchange of courtesies and an appearance of good-will. There can be
no doubt that much of this socially-uniting influence has its source
in the will of the Japanese Resident-General; and just as little doubt
that the Japanese Imperial treasury is somewhat heavily drawn upon for
the expenses. But it is worth for Korea all that it costs—and more.
Especially true is this, when we consider the effect which is had
in this way upon the Korean upper classes themselves. Indeed, it is
foreign social amenities and decencies, under the brave and efficient
leadership of the lady in whose house we stayed, that have made the
Korean court functions half-way tolerable, and that to this hour prevent
the housekeeping of the Palace from relapsing into an intolerable
condition of filth and disorder. But what the social functions that are
now encouraged by the Resident-General are in a measure doing is chiefly
valuable by way of bringing the Korean upper classes into apparently—and
as, I believe, the event will prove, genuinely—friendly relations with
the Japanese. This effect has already showed itself to a considerable
extent in the case of the Korean gentlemen. Not only those who have been
abroad, and those who are now going abroad (for the most part, to Japan),
but even the others are coming to appreciate the value of more cleanly
and elegant ways of enjoying one’s self socially than were conceivable by
their ancestors. Gluttony, drunkenness, filthy habits and surroundings,
seem less natural and attractive by comparison with a few degrees of
higher social refinement. The hardest crust to break will doubtless be
that which encompasses and crushes the Korean lady. In Japan there has
never been anything quite comparable to the still present degrading
influences bearing upon the womanhood of the upper classes in Korea.
But while we were in Seoul, for the first time so far as known in its
history, a Korean lady walked upon the streets, and after making several
calls in this fashion, rode home in the electric car! Her companion was a
Japanese lady, and the two were selling tickets to a public entertainment
given in behalf of a benevolent enterprise. Being present ourselves at
this same entertainment, we saw to our surprise quite one hundred Korean
women, dressed in their native costume, enter the theatre, and seat
themselves among the Japanese of their own sex. If this thing goes on,
racial hatred is doomed. For soon it is to be hoped, or feared, according
to one’s point of view, that Korean ladies will attend garden parties
and, perhaps, finally, frequent afternoon teas and evening receptions,
at which foreigners of both sexes are present. And this, I am sure, is a
sight never as yet beheld by mortal eyes; at least my eyes saw no sign of
its beginning as yet in the now half-opened “Hermit Kingdom.”
A few days after our arrival our host gave us an afternoon reception
at the Residency House. It was a beautiful day; and the grounds, which
had been decorated as it is difficult for other than the Japanese
professionals to do, were beautiful as was the day. The first two hours
were spent upon the hill above the Residence, from which there are fine
and extensive views of Seoul and its environing mountains. There, in
the several well-situated booths and tea-houses, light refreshments
were served. There, too, we were introduced to the whole of Seoul
“society,” some of whom we were glad to call our “friends,” when we
parted from them nearly two months later. The Japanese officials, the
foreign Consuls, with their wives and daughters, the Korean officials
without their families, the Roman Catholic Archbishop and the Protestant
missionaries, and a few of the leading business people, made up that
sort of a gathering which is most thoroughly human and most interesting.
A collation, with chatting and hand-shaking, in the Marquis’ apartments
closed a delightful afternoon.
Of the various garden parties, luncheons, dinners, and receptions, which
followed and not only enlivened the otherwise somewhat dull life of
lecturing, reading, consulting, and observing, it is not necessary to
speak in detail. The visit of Prince Tokugawa and his party to Seoul,
which was extended for some ten days, was very properly made the occasion
of a series of festivities, at most of which they were the guests of
honor; but at the last of which—a reception given in Miss Sontag’s
house—Prince Tokugawa was himself the host. The unaffected friendly
bearing of these Japanese gentlemen toward the Koreans, with whom they
were thus brought in contact, helped to soften the anti-Japanese feeling;
and since on one, at least, of these occasions, the reception given by
Mr. Megata, not only the foreign diplomats but also a number of the
foreign missionaries were invited, it gave to the latter a somewhat
unaccustomed opportunity to observe at close hand the enlightening fact
that Japan, like all other so-called civilized nations, does not have its
true character best represented by its coolies, low-lived adventurers,
camp-followers, and land-grabbing pioneers.
I close this brief description of our varied experiences in Seoul with
a warning against a very common but, in my judgment, quite fallacious
view of the relation in which the capital city stands to the entire
country of Korea. It is customary to say that “Seoul _is_ Korea” just
as “Paris is France.” But this is even less true in the macrocosm of
Seoul than in the macrocosm of Paris. It is indeed true, as Dr. Jones has
said, that “as the capital of the Empire its political pre-eminence is
undisputed. Intellectually and socially it has ruled Korea with an iron
hand for half a millennium.” But it is also true that the real interests
and undeveloped material and human resources of the nation are in the
country; and that the uneconomical, ignorant, and depressed condition of
the people outside of Seoul is the chief concern of all who really care
for the welfare of Korea. The local magistrates must be reformed, or the
well-nigh hopeless task of reforming the corrupt Court at Seoul would be,
if it could be accomplished, of little value to the nation. And if it
becomes necessary, in order to effect this reform, and so to bring about
the redemption, industrially, educationally, morally and religiously, of
the people of the country, then the “iron hand” which rules them from
Seoul must be either gloved or broken in pieces. But, in truth, the idol
at Seoul which the Koreans worship is an image of clay.
CHAPTER V
A VISIT TO PYENG-YANG
From the historical, as well as the geographical and commercial points
of view, the city of Pyeng-yang (spelled also Pyong-yang and in various
other ways) is the most important place in all Northern Korea. It has
frequently been besieged and assaulted, both by Japanese invaders from
the south and by various forces—Mongolian, Chinese, Manchu—coming down
from the north to pour their devastating hordes over the country. It
was hither that the Korean king fled before the armies of “men in
fierce-looking helmets and bright armor with little pennons at their
backs bearing their names and family badges,” which were sent against him
by Hideyoshi more than three hundred years ago. The city is beautifully
situated; it is by nature constituted for all time as a principal centre
for distributing over the Yellow Sea the industrial products of fertile
North Korea and for receiving in return whatever the adjoining parts of
China and Manchuria may furnish for coastwise trade.
Previous to the China-Japan war there were probably not more than a
half-score of Japanese within the walled city of Pyeng-yang. But some
two years after the end of this war the Japanese colony had grown to
several hundred souls. During and after the war with Russia, however,
the increase of this colony was so rapid that it could find no room
within the walls of the city. It therefore burst through, as it were,
the barrier of these walls and built a new city for itself outside the
South Gate, which, like all similar enterprises in Korea, by its neat
dwellings and shops, its clean and broad streets, and its general air of
prosperity, contrasts with, and forms an object lesson to, the Korean
city within the walls.
The original inhabitants of the Japanese city were by no means altogether
of the class most creditable to Japan, or comfortable as neighbors for
the Korean population. There were many adventurers, hangers-on and
panderers to the army, who did not stop at either fraud or violence in
their treatment of the native population of Pyeng-yang. And while the
Japanese army during the war behaved with most admirable moderation and
discipline here, as elsewhere in Korea and Manchuria, at its close even
the military authorities were not as scrupulous as they should have been
by way of appropriating land and other necessaries for their permanent
occupation. The wrongs which were then committed are, however, as far
as possible in such cases, now being measurably remedied or compensated
for; and in spite of the fact that the withdrawal of the divisional
headquarters of the Japanese army has affected somewhat seriously the
retail trade, and there still continues to be more or less of disturbing
friction between dealers of the two nationalities, and a crop of disputes
over land-claims that need settlement, there is now a prosperous Japanese
city, with some 5,000 inhabitants. The Korean city is also growing
in numbers and prosperity. As the two nationalities come to know and
understand each other better, that will inevitably, but happily, take
place here which has already taken place at Chemulpo. They will learn
the better to respect each other, and each other’s rights; and to live
together in freedom from outbreaking strife and sullen bitterness, if not
in perfect harmony. It was a good indication of this possibility to learn
that the Japanese Resident in Pyeng-yang already has coming to his court
for adjustment more cases of Koreans against Koreans than of Koreans
against his own countrymen.
The invitation to visit this interesting and important city was most
prompt and cordial. It came within a few days of our arrival in Seoul. In
spite, therefore, of the fact that I was suffering from a somewhat severe
attack of influenza, brought on in the quite ordinary way of breathing in
the dust of the streets of the capital city, we started for Pyeng-yang,
accompanied by Mr. Zumoto, by the early morning train of April 5th. To
make the journey more surely comfortable, and to emphasize the relation
of the travellers to the Resident-General, the party was escorted about
half-way by one railroad official, who, having committed us to another
that had come on from Pyeng-yang for the purpose, himself returned to his
duties at Seoul.
The night before had been rainy—a somewhat unusual thing in such
abundance at this time of year; but by noon the sky and air had cleared,
and the strong sunlight brought out the colors of the landscape in a
way characteristic of the usual climate of Korea in the early Spring.
The railway from Seoul to Wiju is being very largely built over again;
so that part of the time our train was running over the permanent way
and part of the time over the military road which was quite too hastily
constructed to be left after the war in a satisfactory state. This
process of reconstruction consists in straightening curves, adjusting
grades, erecting stone sustaining-walls and heavy, steel bridges; as
well as in making the old bed, where it is followed, more solid and
better ballasted. The part of Korea through which we were now passing
was obviously more fertile and better cultivated than the part lying
between Fusan and Seoul. There were even some portions of the main
highway which resembled a passable jinrikisha road in Japan, instead of
the wretched and well-nigh impassable footpaths which are often the only
thoroughfares further south. In places, also, the peasants seemed to have
overcome their fears, both of the laws punishing sacrilege and also of
the avenging spirits of the dead; for the burial mounds had been replaced
by terraces which enabled the fields to be cultivated nearly or quite to
the tops of the hills.
On our arrival at the station in Pyeng-yang two of the missionaries met
us with a friendly greeting. Before taking our jinrikishas for the house
of Dr. Noble, who was to be our host, I walked for a short distance over
the gravelled plain surrounding the station to where some 100 or 120
school-boys were drawn up in military line to give the foreign teacher a
welcome. This promptly took his mind and heart back to Japan as well as
carried it forward to the future generation of Korean men. On one side,
dressed in kakhi and looking very important, stood the larger number,
who were members of the Christian school, connected with the Methodist
mission. But right opposite in Korean costume of plum-colored cloth were
arrayed some thirty or forty pupils of a neighboring Confucian school.
It was a matter of interest and significance to learn that just recently
the latter, on receiving overtures of friendly alliance, had agreed to
a meeting for the discussion of terms; and when the proposal had been
made that the “heathen school” should become Christian, it had been
promptly accepted! This was, of course, a way of achieving unity entirely
satisfactory to the missionaries. At the time of our visit the wife
of the head-master of the Confucian school and the wife of one of the
teachers had become earnest and active Bible-women.
While we were being conveyed in jinrikishas to the foot of the hill on
which stands the house of our host, and as well the church and other
buildings belonging to the mission, the Doctor himself was getting home
in a different way. This was by means of a tram, the rude car of which
seated six persons, three on each side, facing outward and back to
back, but with Korean coolies for their motive power—thus reviving, of
course, in new form the time-worn joke about the Far East’s “Pullman
car.” As to the position and significance of the group of buildings, in
one of which we were to be entertained for nearly a week, I avail myself
of the description in the _Seoul Press_, published subsequently by its
editor who was the Japanese friend and companion of this trip. “As his
railway train approaches the city, the first objects that catch his
eyes are a cluster of buildings, some in foreign style, others in half
foreign and half Korean style, which crown the hill-tops and constitute
the most conspicuous feature of the magnificent landscape that developes
itself before his eyes. His wonder increases still more, as the visitor
inquires into the result of the great missionary activity of which these
buildings are outward manifestations. How great the success has been
may be imagined, when it is computed by a very competent authority that
fully one-third of the entire Korean population of the city (roughly
estimated at between 40,000 and 50,000) are professing Christians. There
are Koreans and Japanese, apparently in a position to know, who put the
proportion of the Christian section of the population at much higher
figures; they confidently say that quite one-half of the whole population
belongs to the new faith.... The success which the work of Christian
propagandism has attained in Pyeng-yang is all the more marvellous when
it is remembered that the work was commenced scarcely more than fifteen
years ago. The success of the work has not been confined to the city
alone; it is noticeable, though not quite in like degree, in the adjacent
districts and all over North Korea which looks up to Pyeng-yang as the
fountain and centre of the new religious life.”
On the following day, which was Saturday, I had my first experience with
one of the larger Korean audiences. The numbers in Seoul had been,
at most, some 500 or 600. But here, although the address was in the
afternoon, no fewer than 1,700, all, with the exception of a few foreign
ladies, of the male sex, assembled in the Methodist meeting-house which
was just across a narrow lane from the gate of Dr. Noble’s residence.
The peculiarities of such an audience are worthy of a brief description.
All were seated on the floor. Close around the platform, on which were
a few of the missionaries and of the Japanese officials, were grouped
several hundred school-boys, packed as thickly as herrings in a box.
These were dressed in garments of many and bright colors. Back of them
and reaching to the doors, massed solidly with no aisles or empty spaces
left between, were Korean men, in their picturesque monotone of white
clothing and black crinoline hats. The audiences at Pyeng-yang, as at
Seoul, were much more restless and seemingly volatile than those of
the same size which I had addressed in Japan; although it should be
remembered that the latter were chiefly composed of teachers, officials,
and men prominent in business and in the professions, whereas this
audience, although largely Christian, was of the lowly and comparatively
ignorant. A distinctly religious character was given to all the meetings
in Pyeng-yang by prayer and by the singing of Christian hymns. The tunes
were familiar; and although the language was far removed in structure
and vocabulary, the attempt had evidently been made, with only a partial
success, to reproduce in a rhythmic way the English words which had been
set to them. The singing was led by a Korean chorister who used his baton
in a vigorous and fairly effective, if not wholly intelligent, fashion.
The cabinet organ was also played by a young Korean man. The missionaries
say that the people show great interest and even enthusiasm in learning
foreign music; and that they are apt pupils so far as the singing of
hymns is concerned. The favorite native music is a dismal wailing upon
pipes and rude flute-like instruments, accompanied by the tom-tom of
drums. The address on this occasion was upon the relation of education
to the social welfare; it was interpreted by Dr. Noble with obvious
clearness and vigor.
The audience next morning (Sunday, April 7th) was not so large, but was
scarcely less interesting. It comprised both sexes, separated, however,
by a tight screen which ran from the platform through the middle of
the church to the opposite wall. The numbers present were some 1,400,
about equally divided between the two sexes. The girls on the one
side, and the boys on the other, in their gaily colored clothing, were
massed about the platform; and back of them the women and the men—both
in white, but the former topped out with white turbans and the latter
with their black hats. The entire audience marked out upon the floor
an impressive color-scheme. It was said that there were enough of the
population of the city attending Christian services at that same hour
to make three congregations of the same size. The afternoon gathering
for Bible study and the evening services were even more crowded; so that
the aggregate number of church-goers that Sunday in this Korean city of
somewhat more than 40,000 could not have been less than 13,000 or 14,000
souls. Considering also the fact that each service was stretched out
to the minimum length of two hours, there was probably no place in the
United States that could compete with Pyeng-yang for its percentage of
church-goers on that day. Yet ten years ago there was in all the region
scarcely the beginning of a Christian congregation.
In the afternoon I spoke to about thirty of the missionaries, telling
them, in informal address, of certain economic, social, and religious
changes in the United States, which seemed to me destined profoundly to
affect the nature of Christian missions in so-called “heathen lands.” Nor
did it seem incongruous when prayer was offered that the “home land”
might receive in its present great need some of the blessings which were
being experienced in heathen Korea. For I had long been of the opinion
that if the word “heathen” is to be used with that tinge of moral and
intellectual opprobrium which usually attaches to it, all so-called
Christian countries are in some important respects very considerably
entitled to the term. And, indeed, who that understands the true spirit
of the religion of Christ shall hesitate to confess that America
and American churches as sorely need deliverance from the demons of
cowardice, avarice, and pride, as do the Koreans from the superstitious
fear of devils or of the spirits of their own ancestors?
The audience of Monday morning numbered 800; it seemed, however, from
the point of view which regards social and political standing, to be of
decidedly superior quality. This was probably due, in part at least,
to the nature of the theme, which was—“Education and the Stability
and Progress of the Nation.” The attention, too, appeared to be more
thoughtful and unwavering at this meeting.
The public speaking at Pyeng-yang was concluded by an address, especially
designed for the Japanese official classes and prominent business men,
and given in the hall of the Japanese Club on the afternoon of the day
before leaving the city. There were present about one hundred and fifty
of this class of hearers. To them I spoke very plainly, praising their
preparation for, and conduct of, the war with Russia; then warning
them of the difficulties and dangers in business and politics which
the rivalries of peace would compel the nation to face; and, finally,
exhorting them to maintain the honor of Japan in Korea, before the
civilized world, by treating the Koreans in an honorable way. Although,
according to the testimony of the Japanese friend who interpreted this
address, there were uneasy consciences in the audience, the warning and
the rebuke, as well as the praise, were received with equal appreciation
and gratitude. I take this opportunity to testify that, instead of
deserving the reputation often given to the Japanese, of being abnormally
and even ridiculously sensitive to criticism, I have found them, on the
contrary, remarkably willing to be told of their failures and faults, and
ready to receive, at least with the appearance of respect and kindness,
suggestions for their correction and amendment.
My engagements in Pyeng-yang came so near to the limit of exhausting my
time and strength that I was unable to see as much as would have been
otherwise desirable of the externals, and of the antiquities, of the
neighborhood. From the piazza in front of our host’s house nearly the
whole of the Korean city lies literally _spread out_, as all the cities
of the country are, beneath the eye of the observer from a surrounding
hill. The streets within the walls are, with one or two exceptions,
narrow, winding, and made disgusting by foul sights and smells. Here
there has been little or none of that widening of thoroughfares and
superficial cleaning which has given a partial relief, both to the aspect
and to the reality of Seoul. But, as has already been said, the natural
situation is beautiful. Under the advice of Japan, a part of the now
useless city wall went to make a fine _bund_; while the space left by the
clearing was converted into a street. On passing through an indescribably
foul, narrow lane, which makes a disgraceful break between the broad,
clean thoroughfare of the Japanese settlement and the fairly broad but
dirty street of the Korean city, we were told the following story of the
recent attempt of the Resident to get this passage widened. The story is
so characteristic of relations between the two peoples that I turn aside
to tell it.
Feeling the great and obvious importance of having this public
improvement made, the Resident called a meeting of the adjoining
property-owners to discuss the terms which would be satisfactory to
them. The Japanese owners agreed to contribute the land necessary for
the purpose and to move back the buildings at their own expense; the
Korean owners agreed to cede the land if the expense of moving the
buildings was borne by the Government. The Resident went for a few
weeks to Japan, expecting that the agreement would stand, and that by
his return the improvement would be well begun. Immediately after his
departure, however, two Korean Christians, who had remained away from
the meeting for discussing terms, induced the other Koreans to break
their compact and refuse to surrender the land for less than 200 _yen_
per _tsubo_ (6 × 6 ft.)—an absurdly extravagant price. The attempt at
doing this much-needed work came, therefore, to a complete standstill.
The whole transaction was reported by the _Korean Daily News_ of Seoul
with its customary felicitous (?) misrepresentation, as follows: “People
in Pyeng-yang are greatly stirred up over the demand of the Japanese
that the Korean houses on each side of the road outside the South Gate
be torn down to widen the road. The people gathered at the office of the
prefect and protested against such seizure without proper compensation,
and they said they would die sooner than give in to such an imposition.”
I can assure the reader that much of the fraud and oppression charged
against the Japanese by the Koreans and by their so-called “foreign
friends” (even including some of the missionaries) is of the same order.
[A letter from Pyeng-yang to the _Seoul Press_, published not long after
our return, announced that the “widening of the approach between the
Japanese city and the old town of Pyeng-yang is now under way, and soon
a fine wide road will lead from the railway station to the Gate”—all of
which means that when the Korean property-owners found their attempts at
lying and swindling were not going to succeed, they saw the advantage of
renewing the original contract.]
A row up the river in his boat, kindly furnished by Mr. Kikuchi, the
Japanese Resident, afforded several pleasant hours of recreation as well
as an opportunity to see for ourselves something more of the present
condition and future prospects of the chief city of Northern Korea. The
city gate through which we reached the river is the finest thing about
its ancient fortifications. The views of the bank, which rises in most
places bluff and high above the water, are very picturesque and crowded
with scenes of both immediate and historical interest. Scores of junks
and sampans, loaded with many kinds of goods—for the most part, however,
of no great value—are either moored to the narrow beach below the bank
or are slowly finding their way up and down the river. At different
heights of the banks, standing on projecting ledges or on platforms, men
were cutting inscriptions upon the rocky sides in Chinese characters.
These were designed to celebrate for future generations the virtues and
successes of living merchants and magistrates; but these workmen of
to-day were only adding a few more to the much more numerous inscriptions
commemorating the otherwise forgotten and, for the most part undoubtedly,
really ignoble dead. By the brink of the river were the Korean women at
their never-ceasing task of washing and pounding dry the white clothing
of their male lords. At one bend in the river, where the projecting cliff
acts as an effective breakwater against the winter ice and the summer
freshets, the top is crowned by a pavilion which occupies the place where
negotiations went on between the Chinese and the Japanese at the time of
the Hideyoshi invasion.
[Illustration: Water-Gate at Pyeng-Yang.]
The boat landed us at the foot of the celebrated “Peony Hill,” part way
up which is situated the decayed pavilion in which royalty used to be
fed and given to drink on the occasion of excursions from the city to
this sightly place. From this point the views bring the past history
and the present prospects of Pyeng-yang together in an interesting way.
For, looking to the right, one sees an ancient pagoda and the remains
of a Buddhist temple. Looking forward and downward, the eye is well
pleased by taking in at once the pleasant prospect of water and rock and
fields which the ascent has given only bit by bit, as it were. Looking
upward one sees the difficult heights which the Japanese troops stormed
so unexpectedly but successfully in the invasion of more than three
centuries ago; and also in the war with China, when they turned the guns
of the Chinese forces from their own fortifications upon themselves and
slaughtered the unfortunate until the streets of the city were choked
with corpses. But to the left, and lying just below, is the green island
on which the pumping-works to supply the foul city with cleansing streams
are soon to be erected. Beyond the island across the river are the
pastures, where the breeding of improved horses is to be carried on by a
partnership of both governments; and still further beyond are the coal
fields which the Residency-General is trying to preserve for the Crown
against the efforts of both native and foreign promoters, to exploit them
to their own rather than to the nation’s advantage. But the story of
these and similar efforts will be told in other places of our narrative;
and for the moment we will forget the interests of history and of present
adventures, and will just thoughtlessly submit ourselves to the pleasure
of being rowed down the beautiful river to the dirty and seditious city.
For it is a story of a nearly successful attempt at a seditious outbreak
which would have had a most unfortunate and surely unsuccessful ending,
that must now engage the attention. This story also, illustrates the
Korean character, the Korean situation, and the relations of the two
peoples, in no doubtful way.
The evening before, on Tuesday, April 9th, a committee of students from
the missionary theological school had requested an interview with me
on the following day; and the morning hour of eight o’clock had been
appointed. At the time set they arrived—three in number—and the interview
was held in Dr. Noble’s study or “work-shop.” My visitors began,
Korean fashion, far off from their final goal, and meandered around it
rather than toward it, like poachers feeling their way in the dark. An
awkward pause was finally broken by my exhorting them to speak plainly
and freely; at which they replied that their country’s condition was
much misunderstood and that it was hoped that I would understand and
sympathize with them. Of my desire to do this I at once assured them; but
when the request seemed to be taking a more political turn, I replied
that my interests, influence, and work, were all directed along the lines
of morals, education, and religion. As a teacher, it was only as my
teaching could get a hearing and have an influence on life, that my stay
in Korea could benefit the Koreans themselves. At the same time, I could
assure them of my confidence in Marquis Ito’s intention to administer his
office in the interests of their countrymen.
During all this conversation there was the appearance, in general
characteristic of all similar interviews between natives and foreigners,
of a mixture of suspicion and duplicity which is well calculated to
betray the unwary into serious mistakes. Certainly, the real motive
for their coming was being kept back; the suppressed undercurrent of
feeling that could be detected was such as by no means to encourage the
confidence that the feeling of race-hatred had been thoroughly purged
away from these theological students by the meeting for prayer and
confession of the night before. But just as I was obliged to excuse
myself in order to keep another engagement the true cause of their
request for an interview suddenly sprang into the light. All the night
before, they said, the Korean city of Pyeng-yang had been in a state of
the most intense excitement over the report from Seoul that their Emperor
was going to be deposed by the Japanese! There was just then only time
for me to learn from my Japanese companion that he had not the slightest
suspicion of how the report, even, could have originated, and to send
word to this committee of interviewers that neither he nor I gave the
slightest credence to so absurd a rumor.
But this matter did not end with a single interview conducted by the
deputation of Christian students. Word had previously been sent that
the Korean governor of Pyeng-yang desired to call upon me, and the
promise had been made that he should be received in appropriate manner
at noon of the same day. Soon after our return from the trip up the
river, His Excellency appeared, accompanied by his secretary and by one
of the committee of the morning who acted also as spokesman of this
second deputation. For such it really was, rather than a merely friendly
call from the chief native magistrate of the city. The Governor seemed
exceedingly ill at ease; there was in even greater degree than had been
the case with my visitors of the early morning, an appearance of mingled
suspicion and suppressed excitement, of fear and of hatred. In this
case, however, the real matter of concernment did not come at all to the
fore. The conversation ended when there had been repeated declarations
of my visitor’s interest in the improvement of education among his
own countrymen, to which I had replied that I believed this to be the
important work which should occupy all Korean patriots and all the wise
and true foreign friends of Korea.
It afterward came to my knowledge that the Governor, although not himself
a Christian, on leaving the house, went with his secretary and the
theological student into the adjoining church of the Methodist mission,
and there fell upon his face and began to beat his forehead on the floor
and bewail the threatening situation for himself as the responsible
magistrate, and the sad fate awaiting his country at the hands of the
Japanese. The thought of the enormous interval between this conduct and
that of any Japanese official, similarly situated, remains with me to
reveal in vivid colors the difference of the two peoples. But all this
was only in the small, essentially the same thing which has been going on
in the large, throughout the centuries of Korean history.
On my return from the address to the Japanese I was almost immediately
visited by a third deputation which consisted of the same theological
student who had called twice before on this same day, and of two others
whom I did not recognize. This time also the conversation began in
similar roundabout fashion; indeed, this time the point of starting was
even more remote in character from the real end which it was intended
to reach. There was a preliminary recital of their country’s weakness,
poverty, and need of foreign assistance; this was accompanied by the
suggestion that possibly I might have some rich friend willing to
contribute liberally to their mission school, or to the much needed
enlargement of the church edifice. Again, the visitors were assured of
my deep interest in the welfare of Korea and of my sincere desire to do
what lay within my power to promote this welfare. It must be remembered,
however, that I myself belonged to the class of teachers who, even in
rich America, have little wealth at their disposal. To the best of my
knowledge, I had not a single friend among the American millionaires.
Should it ever be possible, however, nothing would be more to my
mind than to direct some of the overflow of my country’s wealth into
the channels of educational and religious work in needy Korea. I was
sincerely impressed with the need and with the opportunity.
Now, plainly, all this was not at all to the point of the interest
weighing upon the minds of my auditors. Suddenly, and in a startling
manner, the real cause of the three formal visits from as many different
deputations, made itself known. With lips white and trembling, the
same theological student who had been present at each visit, drew from
his sleeve an envelope, and from the envelope a document printed in
mixed Chinese and Korean, the purport of which he began to explain to
my interpreter in a highly excited and rhetorical way. This document
purported to be an elaborate statement of no fewer than forty-eight
reasons why Japan should annex Korea and reduce its Emperor to the grade
of a peer of Japan. “Where did this remarkable _pronunciamento_ come
from?” was, of course, my first inquiry. Why, from Seoul, from the Court;
but it was originally a production of the Japanese Government which,
fortunately, had been discovered in time and which was now officially
sent out in order to warn all Korean patriots against this outrageous
plot concocted by the Japanese!
The situation was obviously serious, if not threatening. On inquiry it
was soon disclosed that for two days and nights the entire native city of
Pyeng-yang had been in such a state of excitement as is not easily made
credible to citizens of a country accustomed to the exercise of sound
political sense and self-control. No business had been done, no buying
or selling, on the last market day. All night long the men and women of
the city had been sleepless and engaged in wailing and beating the ground
and the floor of their houses with their heads. Not a few of the worst
classes—including, I fear, some professing Christians—had been working
themselves and others up to threats of violence and of murder.
The silliness of mind, the almost hopeless and incurable credulity and
absence of sound judgment which characterizes, with exceedingly few
exceptions, the political views and actions of even the official and
educated classes in Korea, was the impression made upon me by this,
as by all my experiences during my stay in the land. I assured these
visitors, however, that there could be no doubt about this document
being a forgery—as, indeed, it turned out to be. Marquis Ito and the
Japanese Government had no such immediate intention; and, indeed, if
the Resident-General entertained the thought, he surely was not foolish
enough to proceed in any such way. Such childish behavior on their own
part, I added, was very discouraging to their friends. What could be
done by others for a country where the men who should be leaders behaved
habitually in a so unmanly way? Let them quiet themselves, tell their
Governor what I had said, and bid him use all his authority to quiet
their fellow-citizens. This advice was complied with, as the event
showed; the Korean governor was reassured and promised to unite his
influence with that of the Christian forces to secure a return of the
populace to their normal quiet. It was gratifying afterwards to have this
official’s expression of gratitude for what was then done to assist in
the peace-promoting administration of his office.
Dr. Noble, at once upon the departure of this committee, gave orders
that the church bell should be rung to assemble the Christian community;
and in such manner as to indicate to them that they were called together
to hear “good news.” An hour later, when we were going down the hill
to dine with the Japanese Resident, the people had not yet assembled;
but on our return in the evening they were departing to their homes,
quieted by two hours of opportunity to express their excited feeling
in the Korean fashion of wailing, sobbing, and beating their foreheads
upon the mats—assisted by the comforting and reassuring words of those
to whom they looked as having knowledge and authority. It afterward
transpired[4] that a young Korean, one An Chung-ho, who had become
by foreign residence _infected_, rather than instructed, with certain
so-called “modern ideas,” had busied himself, as the agent of the
seditious intriguers at Seoul, in distributing this forged document and
in haranguing the people with a view to excite a popular uprising against
the Japanese. It is needless to say that the document itself was _not_
printed in Japan. But the next morning’s sunlight saw the mist and the
threatening storm-cloud cleared away.
It was during this visit to Pyeng-yang that I saw something of the
remarkable features of the religious movement which was most intense
there, but which spread, during the winter of 1906-’07, widely over
Korea. The “revival” began—and, indeed, as regards its principal
immediate results, it consisted largely—in the irresistible tendency to
confession, contrition, and prayer for forgiveness, among Christians
themselves. The confessions, while in general they embraced such
familiar topics as pride, envy, unfaithfulness, and coldness in the
Christian life, very naturally soon revealed the characteristic vices
and weaknesses of the Korean character. Taken at their own estimate,
and making all reasonable allowances for the exaggerations of temporary
excitement, they made obvious the fact that lying, stealing, cheating,
and impurity, had been nearly universal in the hitherto existing
Christian communities of Korea. In many cases these “spiritual exercises”
were accompanied by the most violent physical demonstrations, such as
sobbing, wailing, beating the forehead on the floor, and even falling
down unconscious and frothing at the mouth.
A more graphic picture of these religious meetings can perhaps be
obtained by a brief description of one which I attended, where, however,
the demonstrations were all of a relatively mild order. This was the
evening gathering of the theological students on a day during the whole
of which they had been holding a series of similar gatherings. As we
arrived in front of the building in which the meeting was held, there
pierced the silent night air a voice of wailing rather than of articulate
speaking, in a high-pitched key and with extreme rapidity of utterance.
On entering, some sixty Korean men appeared, seated on the floor with
their heads bowed in their hands; three or four missionaries were
occupying a bench which ran across one end of the room. At the other end
stood one of the students swaying back and forth; it was his confession
of sin that we had heard while still outside. Precisely what the
confession was, there was no opportunity to learn; for after speaking a
few sentences more, with ever increasing rapidity and shrillness of tone,
the speaker fell to the floor sobbing and moaning convulsively and began
beating the mats with fists and with forehead. One of the missionaries
stepped carefully between the stooping bodies of his comrades, found his
way to the prostrate sinner, and by words and gentle blows upon the back
attempted to revive and comfort him.
Then followed a series of similar confessions, interspersed with prayers
for forgiveness, none of which, however, attained the same degree of
vehemence and physical excess. The substance of sins confessed by these
Korean students of divinity was most illuminating. The next penitent
wished it to be known that he had broken all the commandments; although
it appeared that this far limit had been reached before his profession of
Christianity, and that he had been guilty of murder rather in the spirit
than in fact. Various following narratives of experience, made with
varying degrees of emotional excitement, included forms of wrong-doing
common to most church members in all countries, such as pride, envy,
deceit, infidelity, and impurity of thought, if not of life. But the
climax was fairly reached when one man of early middle-age arose, and
in a markedly unemotional way asserted that, although he had formerly
resisted all efforts to make him tell the truth as to his real manner of
living, he now felt that the time had come when this painful duty could
no longer be postponed. How to repent, however, he did not know. The
story which was told in cold-blooded fashion was, briefly, as follows:
Before professing Christian conversion he had been a wild fellow, and
among other crimes had twice set fire to the houses of his neighbors.
After profession of conversion he had been employed as a colporteur.
In this connection he had thrown away or destroyed the books he was
paid to distribute, had told his employer that robbers had attacked him
and stolen them, and thus had collected his full salary. Still later
he had renounced all pretence of Christianity and had himself become a
robber. His life as a theological student up to the present time had been
characterized by pride, envy, and constant secret hatred of those of his
fellow-students who had surpassed him in their studies.
Among the most significant of the confessions were those of bitter hatred
of the Japanese, and even of murderous thoughts and plans toward them.
These wholesome self-accusations were in several instances followed by
earnest and pathetic petitions—not only for forgiveness of themselves,
but for the Divine blessing upon their enemies. [In this connection
it is pertinent to remark that, while there has undoubtedly been much
ill-treatment of Koreans by Japanese, I have never known of any of that
bitter race-hatred toward the former by the latter, which undoubtedly at
the present time permeates a large part of the Korean population toward
the Japanese.] On being asked to say a few words to these students, I
spoke of the unreasonable and un-Christian character of race-hatred and
asked them to put from their minds all such foolish and wicked feelings.
And then, as though to emphasize the beauty and brightness of nature as
contrasted with the unseemly and dark condition of man, we came out under
a sky as clear and alight with scintillating stars as I have ever seen in
India or in Egypt.
On our arrival at the station of Pyeng-yang, to return to Seoul, on
the morning of Wednesday, April 10th, the little fellows from the
Presbyterian mission-school were there before us, already in line with
Korean and American flags flying, and with drums and trumpets making a
creditable noise. The appropriate parting address to this school had
scarcely been finished, when another school appeared in the distance, on
the double-quick for the station, to whom, when they had got themselves
into proper shape, Dr. Noble repeated the substance of the words just
spoken to their comrades earlier arrived. Scarcely was this finished,
when, for the third time—and now it was the pupils from the Confucian
school—a troop of boys came scurrying through the dust, lined up, and
claimed their share of the foreign sahib’s parting salutation and advice.
And then we were slowly drawn out of the station, and leaving behind on
the fence the several hundred school-children and on the platform the
several score of Korean Christians and of Japanese who had come to send
us off, we returned without further incident to Seoul.
The few crowded days at Pyeng-yang appear in retrospect as an epitome of
Korean history, Korean temperament, and the physical and social relations
sustained in the past and at the present time between Korea and Japan.
Improvement may confidently be expected in the near future, according
as the economical and social forces are combined with the moral and the
religious to bear upon the population now adult. But the larger and more
permanent hopes for the future depend upon the school-children, who, even
to-day, are becoming more intelligent, orderly, and self-controlled than
their ancestors ever have been.
CHAPTER VI
CHEMULPO AND OTHER PLACES
Besides Seoul and Pyeng-yang the two most important seaports of Korea,
which are Chemulpo and Fusan, were the only places in the peninsula
where it seemed possible to arrange for even a single address. An honest
attempt was made by a personal visit of the foreign secretary of the
Young Men’s Christian Association to “negotiate” an invitation from the
Koreans of Song-do, the ancient capital under the dynasty preceding that
at present on the throne. But Song-do is an exceedingly conservative
city, and the family of Yun Chi-ho is influential there. Thus, even its
Korean Christians did not care to hear addresses on matters of morals and
religion from a guest of the Japanese Resident-General. It is well to
recall again in this connection the fact that, although Pyeng-yang has
actually suffered more at the hands of Japanese invaders than any other
city of Korea, the influence of the Christian missionaries and their
converts was so powerful there that the most sympathetic and crowded
native audiences greeted the “friend of Japan” in that city. There, too,
in connection with Dr. Noble, presiding elder of the Methodist missions
in all that part of the country, I was able to be of most service to
both countries in a time of rather unusual threatening and exigency.
This fact confirms the impression that, in Seoul, fear of the Court and
of the Yang-bans is cramping the work even of the foreign religious
teachers. But Chemulpo and Fusan are the places in Korea where the two
peoples have been longest in the compelling contact of common business
interests. Observation of results in these places had, therefore, some
special value. The visit to Fusan came later, and properly belongs to
the story of our departure from Korea. But the visit to Chemulpo and its
experiences may fitly be spoken of in this place.
The invitation to speak at Chemulpo came from the Japanese Resident and
from the Mayor, as official representatives of the educational interests
of the city. The affair was, therefore, conducted much more in the
familiar Japanese style than were the invitations to speak in Seoul or
Pyeng-yang. At the same time, it had been decided that I was to address
a Korean audience in Chemulpo, and Dr. Jones had consented to make this
possible by the help of his valuable skill in interpretation. It had been
arranged that we should meet him and Mr. Zumoto, who was to interpret
the address to the Japanese, at the South Gate station for the 11.40
A.M. express. But as the time of leaving approached, it appeared that
something was detaining the Doctor; finally we were obliged to go on
without him. In person he appeared at Chemulpo in the early afternoon and
explained that he had been detained in order to prepare for the funeral
of one of the native members of his church; several hours still later,
while we were taking tea at the Resident’s house, we were handed (as an
example of the despatch with which this service is at present rendered in
Korea) the explanatory telegram which had been sent in the early morning.
The fields between Seoul and Chemulpo, on the morning of May 6, 1907,
were beautifully green, for the spring rains had been unusually abundant
and the crops were correspondingly promising. Combined with the darker
green of the pines, and contrasted with the red and yellow of the sand
and rocks, they gave back to the eye that more vivid but less soothing
pleasure of the Korean landscape to which reference has already been so
frequently made. Along this line of railway, as everywhere, there is the
same impression of undeveloped agricultural resources; there is also the
same temptation to imagine how it will all look in the years to come,
when Korea has been lifted out of its low industrial condition.
At the station we were met by the official deputation and escorted to
the Japanese Club. The impression made by the streets through which we
passed was not pleasing; for there had been rain, the air was laden with
cold moisture, and the ground was either rough or torn up for repairs and
heavy for the jinrikisha pullers with its coating of mud. But it should
be remembered that this part of Chemulpo is in the making, whereas the
older part had a few weeks before been swept by a destructive fire. The
Chinese town, through which we now passed, bore a decayed air; but when
the Japanese quarter was reached, in spite of the recent loss of some
400 houses, there was a thrifty and prosperous look, an appearance of
determination, of not-to-mind-what-cannot-be-helped, so characteristic
of the people themselves. The work of rebuilding this quarter was going
briskly forward.
The population of Chemulpo consisted at that time of some 12,000
Japanese, from 15,000 to 20,000 Koreans, and about 2,000 Chinese (before
the Japan-China war the number of the Chinese was about 5,000). There
are less than 100 European and American residents. It is hoped by those
interested in the business prospects of the city that, after the through
all-rail route from Tairen to St. Petersburg is made in all respects
first-class—and the consummation of this project will quickly follow
under the management of Baron Goto and the Russian authorities, as soon
as the commercial treaty between Japan and Russia takes effect—Chemulpo
will be an important port of entry for the increasing trade of Korea.
But the harborage is now so poor that ships of any considerable size have
to lie far out in the offing, and the sand-bars between this anchorage
and the wharfs are constantly forming and shifting their location. This
coast of Korea is also made very dangerous by numerous rocky islands and
sunken reefs, by variable and strong currents, and by one of the highest
average tides to be found anywhere in the world. Plans for improving the
harbor are, therefore, very important. Right in front of the Chinese
hotel where we spent the night, the flats are being filled in, apparently
with the double purpose of securing an extension of building lots,
and also of shortening somewhat the distance between the city and the
shipping at low tide. But the permanent improvement of the harbor of
Chemulpo—and this is equivalent to securing one good port of entry for
the entire western coast of Korea—offers a difficult problem. Either of
the two ways of solving the problem which have hitherto been considered
would be exceedingly expensive. To enclose a basin with a sea-wall and
shut in the tide-water by gates, or to extend the wharf out some two
miles to deep water, would cost many millions of _yen_.
After an excellent tiffin at the club, where we met some twenty Japanese
ladies and gentlemen, I spoke to an audience of not more than one hundred
and fifty—of this nationality almost exclusively—but of both sexes. The
audience represented the educational and official interests of the city
which, as is customary in Japan and elsewhere, are not paramount in
places devoted to trade and commerce. Mr. Zumoto interpreted; the ethical
and hortatory turn given to the remarks made them, apparently, no less
but even more heartily received. I have already called attention to the
striking fact that the thoughtful Japanese are becoming more impressed
with the truth of the old-fashioned, but not as yet quite defunct,
thought that it is, after all, “righteousness which exalteth a nation.”
But the Koreans, as a people, have still to awake to the impression that
either science or morality has any important bearing on the material and
social welfare of the nation’s life. Following the lecture, there was
tea at the Residency House; after which we were taken to one of those
curious but by no means uncomfortable hostleries which one comes upon
in the Far East. It was under the sign of “E. D. Steward & Co., Store.
Keeper. & Hotel and Ship. Compradore.” The name “Steward” was assumed by
its Chinese owner because he had filled this office on a small steamship
for some years before. The advertisement did not at all exaggerate the
variety of enterprises carried on under the same extensive roof by this
example of a thrifty race. In the rooms over the store the representative
of Mr. “Steward” (for we did not learn his true designation, either for
this life of business or his “heavenly name”) cared for his guests as
well as could reasonably be expected.
Most of the following morning was spent in conversation with Mr. W. D.
Townsend, who has been in Korea since May, 1884, when he arrived at
Chemulpo to open a branch of the “American Trading Co.” He thus antedates
the founding of missionary work in Korea, although Dr. R. S. McClay had
visited Seoul in June, 1883, to make arrangements for a mission; and
Dr. Horace N. Allen, who afterward served as the representative of the
United States Government, reached Korea in the September following. This
conversation, continued on during luncheon at Mr. Townsend’s house, gave
me incidents and opinions illustrating the problem I was studying as it
appears to a shrewd and experienced man of business. Facts and opinions
from this point of view were, I believed, no less important and informing
than those to be learned from the missionary or the native or foreign
official.
In the afternoon I spoke on the “Five Elements of National Prosperity” to
an audience of about 600 Koreans, fully half of whom were children, and
part of whom kept coming and going. The Japanese Resident, Mr. Kenochi,
was present. The quality of the attention and interest did not seem to me
to reach the level of the audiences in Seoul; but this was only what was
to be expected from the nature of the population and the occupations of
the Koreans in Chemulpo. From the church we had a not unpleasant walk to
the suburban station, accompanied by a number of the Japanese gentlemen
and ladies who felt it their official but friendly duty to see us off for
Seoul. On reaching Miss Sontag’s house we dined with the German Consul,
Dr. Ney, Mr. Eckert, the skilful trainer of the Korean band, and other
German friends, on invitation of our hostess.
With reference to the improvements already accomplished in Korea, and to
a considerable extent through Japanese official influence and unofficial
example, Mr. Townsend called my attention to the following particulars.
Previous to the opening of the country to foreign trade there was no
possibility of accumulating wealth in Korea. For, as one of the few
thoughtful Koreans had remarked: “If there was a large crop of rice and
beans, there was no one to buy it, and it would not keep over for two
years. Therefore we ate more and worked less; for what could we do with
the surplus but eat it? But when the crops failed, we starved or died of
the pest that followed.” It so happened, in fact, that the year after
the opening of the country there was a large crop; and now for the first
time in the history of Korea, there was not only something to sell but
a market for it. There had, indeed, been trade for centuries between
the southern part of the country and the adjoining regions of Japan,
especially the island of Tsushima. But in this trade Korea parted with
its gold, out of which the Japanese themselves were subsequently cheated
by the Dutch, who took it off to Holland. Thus neither of the nations
in the Far East was enriched in any permanent way; both were the rather
impoverished as respects their store of resources for the future.
Under the Japanese, Mr. Townsend was confident—as is every one acquainted
with the past and present conditions—that there would soon be a very
considerable development of the country’s resources. This would take
place especially in the lines of silk-culture, raising rice and beans,
and grazing and dairy products. For all these forms of material
prosperity the country was by soil and climate admirably adapted. Up to
this time the rinderpest had been allowed to ravage the herds unchecked.
In a single year it had carried off thousands of bullocks, so that the
following spring the entire family of the peasants would have to join
forces—men, women, and children—to pull their rude ploughs through the
stiff mud. As to the culture of fruit, the outlook did not seem so
hopeful. The market was limited; the various pests were unlimited in
number of species and individuals, and in voracity. A certain kind of
caterpillars eat pine-needles only; and some gentlemen, in order to
protect the pine-trees in their yards, were obliged to hire Koreans
to pick these pests off the trees, one by one, by the pailful at a
time. It seems to me, however, that in time these difficulties may be
overcome by the very favorable character of soil and climate for many
kinds of fruits, by the possibility of ridding the country of the pests
and of improving the already excellent varieties of fruits, and by the
development of the canning industry.
As to the effect of the Japanese Protectorate upon the business of
foreign firms, Mr. Townsend assured me that the honorable firms were
pleased with it and considered it favorable to the extension of
legitimate business. Unscrupulous promoters do not, of course, enjoy
being checked by the Resident-General in their efforts to plunder the
Korean resources. In this conversation with Mr. Townsend I learned
the details of one of those dishonorable promoting schemes which have
been, and still are, the disgrace of some of the foreign residents in
Korea. But this is not the worst of them. They become the disgrace of
the countries from which the promoters come, so often as the latter can
successfully appeal to the consuls or other diplomatic representatives of
their nationals for official support in their nefarious schemes.
The relations, both business and social, between the Japanese and the
Koreans in Chemulpo are now much improved. Indeed, there is at present
an almost complete absence of race-hatred between the two. Formerly,
on some trifling occasion of a quarrel started between a Japanese and
a Korean, an angry mob of several hundred on each side would quickly
gather; and unless the other foreigners interfered in time, there
was sure to be serious fighting and even bloodshed. But the growing
number of those belonging to both nations who understand each other’s
language and each other’s customs has almost entirely done away with the
tendency to similar riots. Indeed, a positive feeling of friendliness
is springing up between certain individuals and families of the two
nationalities. All of which tends to confirm the statement of another
business man—this time of Seoul, where the hatred of the Koreans for the
Japanese is studiously kept aglow by Korean officialdom and by selfishly
interested foreigners—that in fifty years, or less, no difference
would be known between the two. There will then, perhaps, be Koreans
boasting of their Japanese descent and Japanese boasting of their Korean
descent; and a multitude of the people who will not even raise the
question for themselves as to which kind of blood is thickest in their
veins. Everywhere on the face of the earth ethnology is teaching the
lesson that “purity” of blood is as much a fiction as is the so-called
“primitive man.”
According to Mr. Townsend, one cause of the deforestation of so large
regions of Korea in former times was the fear of tigers; this fear was,
of course, greatly increased by the fact that the Government did not
dare to entrust the people with firearms. The tiger-hunters were, it
will be remembered, a species of officials who composed the bravest,
and oftentimes the only brave, troops in the king’s army. As late as
about sixty years ago the principal road to Pyeng-yang from Seoul passed
through a stretch of dense forest infested with tigers. As long as the
slaughter by these beasts did not average more than one man a week, the
people thought it could be borne; but when the number killed in this way
rose to one or two a day, they applied to the Tai Won Kun, and permission
was given to cut down the forest.
The prevalence of the tiger and also the method of governmental control
over their capture and over the sale of their skins is well illustrated
by the following amusing story. Recently, a foreigner who was fond of
hunting big game, brought a letter of introduction to Mr. Townsend and
asked him to negotiate for him with two tiger-hunters for a trip to the
region of Mokpo. Knowing well the Korean character as respects veracity,
it was necessary for the inquirer to discover in indirect ways whether
the men were really courageous and skilful hunters, as well as whether
tigers were really to be met in the region over which it was proposed to
hunt. Something like the following conversation then took place:—“You
claim to be brave tiger-hunters, but have you ever actually killed a
tiger?” “Yes, of course, many of them.” “But what are you hunting at the
present time?” “Just now we are hunting ducks.” “How much is a tiger
worth to you when you succeed in getting one?” “Well, if we can have
all there is of him—the skin, the bones” (which, when powdered, make a
medicine much prized by the Chinese on account of its supposed efficacy
in imparting vigor or restoring strength), “and all the rest, we should
make at least 110 _yen_.” “Why, then, do you hunt ducks which bring you
so little, when you might kill tigers, which are worth so much?” “Yes,
but if I kill a tiger, the magistrate hears of it and sends for me; and
he says: ‘You are a brave man, for you have killed a tiger. You deserve
a reward for your courage. Here are five _yen_; but the tiger, you know,
belongs to the Crown, and I will take that in the name of His Majesty.’
Now do you think I am going to risk my life to earn 120 _yen_ for the
magistrate, who squeezes me enough anyway, and get only 5 _yen_ for
myself?”
“But, tell me truly, are there really tigers to be found in that
neighborhood?” “Yes, indeed, there are.” “How do you know that?” “Why,
just recently two men of the neighborhood were eaten by tigers.” “Indeed,
that is certainly encouraging.” “It may be encouraging for the foreign
gentleman who wishes to hunt the tiger, but it was not very encouraging
for the Korean gentlemen who were eaten by tigers.” The grim humor of all
this will be the better appreciated when it is remembered how omniscient
and omnivorous are the Korean magistrates as “squeezers”; and how large
the chances of the tiger are against the hunter, when the latter is
equipped only with an old-fashioned musket and a slow-burning powder
which must be lighted by a fuse.
A story of a quite different order will always attach itself in my memory
to the name of Chemulpo. During the Chino-Japan War one of the missionary
families, now in Seoul, was living in the part near the barracks where
the Japanese soldiers were quartered until they could be sent by sea to
the front. One day a petty officer came up on the porch of the house,
uninvited; but after accepting gratefully the cup of tea offered to
him, being unable to speak any English, he went away, leaving the
object of his apparent intrusion quite unexplained. Soon after, however,
he returned with some twenty of his comrades, mostly petty officers,
accompanying him; and when the hostess was becoming somewhat alarmed
at the number for whom she might be expected to furnish tea and cakes,
one of the company, who could best express their wishes in the foreign
language, revealed the motive of the soldiers’ visit. He explained in
broken English that they had come to see the baby—a girl about two years
old. The little one was then brought out by the mother and placed in the
arms of the speaker, who carried the child along the line formed of his
comrades and gave each one a chance to see her, to smile at her, and to
say a few words to her in an unknown tongue. On going away, after this
somewhat formal paying of respects to “the baby,” the Japanese officer
still further explained: “Madam,” said he, “to-morrow morning we are
going to the front and we do not expect ever to return. But before we
go to die, we wanted to bid good-by to the baby.” In the Russo-Japanese
war nothing else so cheered the soldiers of Japan on their way to the
transports for Manchuria as the crowds of school-children at all the
railway stations, with their flags and their banzais. The number of the
regiment to which these soldiers, who bade good-by to the American baby
before they went forth to die, was taken note of by the mother. Their
expectation came true; they did not return.
The only other excursion by rail from Seoul which we made during
our visit to Korea was to attend the formal opening ceremony of the
Agricultural and Industrial Model Station at Suwon. The history of its
founding is copied from the account of the _Seoul Press_:
Shortly after the inauguration of the Residency-General last
year, the Korean Government was induced to engage a number
of Japanese experts well versed in agriculture and dendrology
with a view to the organizing and conducting a school for
training young Koreans in the principles and practice of
scientific husbandry and forestry. The establishment of such a
school was absolutely necessary in order to insure success to
the work of improving agriculture and forestry, to which the
Resident-General wisely attached great importance.
At the suggestion of these experts, it was decided to establish
the school in question at Suwon, on a site adjacent to the
Agricultural and Industrial Model Station there, the proximity
of these two institutions being attended by various obvious
advantages. The school-buildings and dormitories, together with
houses for members of the faculty, were erected at a total
outlay of a little over 44,000 _yen_, being completed by the
end of 1906.
Pending the completion of the buildings, instruction was,
for the time being, given in the class-rooms of the former
Agricultural, Commercial and Industrial School at Seoul from
the 10th of September, 1906. The last-mentioned school had
been established a few years ago under the control of the
Department of Education. Its organization was too imperfect to
make it possible for it to attain the object for which it was
established.
Early this year the School of Agriculture and Dendrology
removed to its new quarters at Suwon. The post of principal
is filled by the director of the Agricultural Bureau in the
Department of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry. The teaching
staff consists of five professors (Japanese) and two assistant
professors (Koreans).
There are two departments: (1) the Ordinary, and (2) the
Special. The Ordinary Department extends over two years and the
Special Department one year. The latter Department consists of
two separate courses, namely, agricultural and dendrological.
These courses are open to such of the graduates of the Ordinary
Department as may desire still further to prosecute their
studies in their respective special branches. Besides the
above-mentioned departments, there is a practical training
course for giving elementary instruction in some special
subjects connected with agriculture or forestry. The term is
not more than one year.
It may be interesting to tabulate the various subjects taught
in the respective departments. They are as follows:
ORDINARY DEPARTMENT:—Morals, Japanese, Mathematics, Physics and
Meteorology, Natural History, Outlines of Agriculture, Soil
and Manures, Crops, Dairy Produce, Sericulture, Agriculture,
Agricultural Manufacture, Outlines of Dendrology, Outlines of
Afforestation, Outlines of Veterinary Medicine, and Political
Economy and Law.
SPECIAL DEPARTMENT (Agricultural Course):—Soil, Manure,
Physiological Botany, Diseases of Crops, Injurious Insects,
Dairy Produce, Sericulture and Spinning of Silk Yarns,
Agricultural Manufactures, and Agronomy.
SPECIAL DEPARTMENT (Dendrological Course):—Dendrological
Mathematics, Afforestation and Forest Protection, Forest
Economy, Utilization of Forests, Forest Administration.
Instruction in these subjects is given through the medium of
interpreters, the last-mentioned office being fulfilled by the
Korean Assistant Professors. The number of students fixed for
the respective departments, is 80 for the Ordinary, and 40 for
the Special Department, the number for the practical Training
course being fixed each time according to the requirements.
The number of students at present receiving instruction is 26
in the Ordinary Department, and 12 in the Practical Training
course. It is very satisfactory to learn that these students
are highly commended for obedience, good conduct, and industry.
This promises well, not only for the success of the school, but
for the progress of the nation.
This lengthy account of the founding and progress of the school and
station, whose opening ceremonial was to be celebrated on Wednesday, May
15, 1907, is given because of the great importance of the relation which
every such enterprise sustains to the lasting success of the Japanese
Protectorate and to the welfare of Korea under this Protectorate.
Hitherto, the considerable sums of money which have been from time to
time obtained from the Korean Government to found and to foster schemes
for improved education or industrial development have almost without
exception been unfruitful expenditures. The appropriation has either
been absorbed by the promoters of the schemes, or if really spent upon
the objects for which it was appropriated, both interest and care have
ceased with the spending of the money. Even the missionary schools,
which have up to very recent times afforded the only means for obtaining
the elements of a good modern education—valuable as they have been,
especially as means of propagandism—have too often resulted in sending
out graduates who, if they could not get the coveted official positions,
were fit for nothing else. In Korea, as in India—to take a conspicuous
example—the students from these schools have sometimes become rather
more practically worthless for the service of their nation, or even
positively mischievous, than they could have been if left uneducated.
But what Korea now most imperatively needs is educated men, who are not
afraid of honest work; men, also, who will not accept official position
at the expense of their manly independence and moral character, or gain
it by means of intrigue and corruption. But “honest work” must, for a
considerable time to come, be chiefly connected with the agricultural
and industrial development of the country. Moreover, the institution
at Suwon is demonstrating that the Koreans can make good students
and skilful practitioners in the, to them, new sciences which give
control over nature’s resources for the benefit of man. The Confucian
education hitherto dominant in this country has chiefly resulted in
cultivating scholars who either sacrificed usefulness in service to the
false sentiment of honor, or else subordinated the most fundamental
principles of morality to that skill in official positions which secured
the _maximum_ of squeezes with the _minimum_ of resistance. And,
finally, nothing so undermines and destroys race-hatred as the prolonged
association of the two races in the peaceable relations of teacher and
pupil; or of teachers and pupils with their respective colleagues.
Six car-loads of invited guests, belonging to all classes of the most
influential people of Seoul and Chemulpo, left the South-Gate Station on
a special train at one and a half o’clock, on that Wednesday afternoon,
for Suwon. Marquis Ito and his staff, and other Japanese officials,
Korean Ministers and their guards, all the foreign Consuls, the principal
men of business, representatives of the press, and Christian missionaries
were of the party. The day was warm, but fine; the landscape was even
more beautiful in its coloring than usual. On arrival at the station
of Suwon, the guests were met by the Minister and Vice-Minister of
Agriculture, Commerce and Industry, by Dr. Honda, the director of the
Model Station, and others, who escorted them on foot over a newly made
road through the paddy fields belonging to the station. It did not
need an expert eye to see the immense difference, as regards economy
of arrangement and efficiency of culture, between these fields and the
relatively uneconomically arranged and unproductive fields along the
railway by which we had passed as we came to Suwon.
The Agricultural School and Station are beautifully located; the lake,
which has been made by damming a stream, with the plain under improved
cultivation, and the surrounding mountains, all combine to produce a
charming scene. On reaching the Model Station itself a brief time for
rest was allowed; this could be improved by those who wished to inspect
the rooms where the specimens were displayed, and the laboratories of
various kinds. The ceremonial proceedings were opened by the director,
Dr. Honda, who reported the progress already made and defined the work
which was to be attempted for the future. The work was to consist in
the improvement of the quality of the seeds, the introduction and
acclimatization of new varieties of farm products, the instruction of the
farmers, the supply of manures, the effecting of improved irrigation,
drainage, and protection against inundation, the improvement of poultry
and dairy farming, the introduction and encouragement of sericulture, and
the securing of more by-products on the farms.
After a few words from Mr. Song, the Korean Minister of Agriculture,
Marquis Ito made a somewhat lengthy address. He spoke frankly in
criticism of the failures which the Korean Government had hitherto
made in its various attempts to accomplish anything for improving the
miserable lot of the toiling millions of the Korean people. “Not only had
nothing been done to ameliorate their condition, but much had been done
to injure their interests and aggravate their miseries. Let those who
boasted of their knowledge of Chinese philosophy remember the well-known
teaching that the secret of statesmanship consists in securing the
contentment of the people.” His Excellency then referred to the example
of the great Okubo in Japan, who founded an agricultural college there
in 1875, spoke of the brilliant results which had followed this improved
instruction and practice, and hoped that the Korean officials, in whose
charge this well-equipped institution was now placed, would make it
equally useful to the Korean people.
The ceremonial part of the day was closed by an address by Mr. Kwon,
the Minister of War, who had formerly been, although, as he confessed,
without any knowledge of such matters, head of the Department of
Agriculture, Commerce and Industry. It was indeed fourteen years since
a department had been founded for the improvement of agriculture; but
“nothing worth speaking of had been initiated by that department.” After
spending 170,000 _yen_ on the station, Japan had kindly consented to
turn it over to the Korean Government. He was hopeful that the change
already beginning to be felt in the interests of the farming population
of his country would in the near future result in a large improvement in
their condition. [It does not need to be said to those acquainted with
the way in which such projects for developing the resources of Korea have
hitherto been conducted, that both the grave rebuke of Marquis Ito and
the confessions of the Korean Ministers are amply warranted.]
The ceremony concluded, refreshments were served in and about an old and
historically interesting Korean building, which is situated a few rods
below the farm station and just above the nearer end of the dam. After
this, the whole company walked back to the railway by a road laid out on
the back of the dam, which is shaded with young trees and made attractive
by views of lake, fertile plains, and hillsides and mountains in the
distance on every side. On the plain below the dam some Koreans were
holding a pantomimic celebration, or merry-making, of the sort which it
is their custom to commit to hired bands of men skilful in affording this
species of amusement. On the hillsides at the end of the dam, and above
the track of the railway, hundreds of other Koreans—adults in glistening
white and children in colors of varied and deepest dyes—were quietly
enjoying the scene. When the train stopped at the point nearest the end
of the pleasant walk, it was, I am sure, a well satisfied crowd of guests
which returned by it to Seoul.
With this ceremony at Suwon another which I had previously attended in
Seoul naturally connects itself. This was the opening of the Industrial
Training School, the initial outlay for which, including the cost of
buildings and apparatus, amounted to a little more than 110,000 _yen_.
The significance of this enterprise will be the better understood when
it is remarked that the native workmen of to-day make nothing whatever,
with the exception of a few cheap brasses and the attractive Korean
chests, that any foreigner would be inclined to buy. Moreover, their
own tools and machinery of every description are exceedingly crude and
old-fashioned. At the ceremony in Seoul addresses were made similar
to those listened to at the Suwon affair. Mr. Yamada, the principal
of the Institute, reported that out of the eleven hundred applicants
who had presented themselves for examination, fifty students had been
admitted. Marquis Ito and the Korean speakers dwelt upon the same
facts—namely, the deplorable backwardness of the nation in industrial
matters, the unsatisfactory results of past endeavors at improvement,
and the needs and hopes of the future. After the addresses, the guests
visited the different workshops, where the Korean students were to be
given manual training; and then resorted to the sides of the mountain
above, where refreshments were served. The decorative features of the
festivities—consisting of the Korean crowds on the upper mountain sides,
the uniformed officials in and around the refreshment booths, and the
brilliant bloom of the cherry bushes and plum trees—were even more
striking than at Suwon. On this occasion it was my pleasure to receive a
cordial greeting from some of the Korean officials, among whom was the
Minister of the Interior, the cousin of the Governor at Pyeng-yang. It
was evident that he had heard from his cousin of the assistance rendered
directly by the missionaries and indirectly by me, in the way of quieting
the excited condition of the Korean population at the time of our visit.
If official corruption can be kept aloof from these enterprises, and
an honest and intelligent endeavor made to carry out the plans of the
Japanese Government under Marquis Ito for the agricultural and industrial
development of Korea, there is little reason to doubt that a speedy and
great improvement will result. That the Korean common people, in spite
of their characteristic air of indifference and their appearance of
indolence, can be stirred with ambition, and that when aroused they will
make fairly industrious and apt learners, there is, in my judgment, no
good reason to deny. The experience of the “Seoul Electric Railway,” and
of other similar enterprises, favors this judgment. Not to speak of the
financial methods of this company, and after admitting that the physical
condition of its property and the character of its service leave much to
be desired, it has been, on the whole, successful in demonstrating the
possibility of conducting such business enterprises by means of Korean
labor. Mr. Morris, its manager, who came to Seoul in July, 1899, told
me the interesting story of his earlier experiences. The working of the
road during the first years of its running was accompanied by enormous
difficulties. Neither the passengers, nor the motormen and the conductors
had any respect for the value of time; most of the employees had even to
learn how to tell time by their watches. The populace thought it proper
for the cars to stop anywhere, and for any length of period which seemed
convenient to them. If the car did not stop, the passengers made a mad
rush for it and attempted to jump on; they also jumped off wherever they
wished, whether the car stopped or not. This practice resulted in serious
bruises and fractured skulls as an almost daily occurrence. Native
pedestrians in the streets of Seoul were not content to walk stolidly and
with a dignified strut (which is still the habit of the Korean before an
approaching Japanese jinrikisha) along the track in the daylight, with
the expectation that the car would go around them; but at evening they
utilized the road-bed by lying down to sleep on the track with their
heads on boards placed across its rails. One dark night in the first
summer three men were killed by the last trip between the river and the
city. In those days the broad thoroughfare, which is now kept open for
its entire length, was greatly narrowed by rows of booths and “chow”
shops on either side. Here the men from the country would tie their
ponies (the Korean pony is notable for his vicious temper when excited)
to the tables, and, reclining upon the same tables, would proceed to
enjoy their portion of food. When the electric car came through the
centre of the street, the beasts went wild with fright; sometimes they
dashed into the shops; sometimes they fled down the street dragging the
tables and scattering “chow” and men in every direction. At one place
the line to the river runs over a low hill which is, in the popular
superstition, a part of the body of the rain-bringing Dragon. In a dry
season the people became greatly excited and threatened violence to those
who had brought upon them the calamity of drought by such sacrilege done
to the body of this deity. Mr. Morris had himself fled for his life
before a Korean mob who were ready to tear him in pieces to avenge the
killing of a child by the car. At the present time, however, there were
fewer accidents in Seoul than on the electric car-lines of Japan; and
many fewer than those from the same cause in the larger cities of the
United States. In one of the more recent years they had carried 6,000,000
passengers and had only killed one. This is certainly not a bad record;
for while, on the one hand, the service of the road is relatively slow
and infrequent, on the other hand, in Seoul there are no sidewalks and
the streets are thronged with foot-passengers and with children at play.
One other excursion from Seoul is, perhaps, worthy of record as throwing
some sidelights upon Korea—this time, however, chiefly an affair of
recreation. This was the ascent of Puk Han, the ancient place of royal
refuge in cases of revolt or foreign invasion. The party consisted of
Mr. Cockburn, the British Consul-General; Mr. Davidson, the successor
of J. McLeavy Brown in the Department of Customs; Dr. and Mrs. Wm. B.
Scranton, and Madam Scranton, the mother of the Doctor. Mr. Cockburn and
Mr. Davidson made the ascent as far as was possible in jinrikishas, and
the rest of the party in chairs carried by four or six coolies each. By
the longer way out which the party took, there was, however, much walking
(but no hard climbing) to do; and by the shorter way home, with its much
steeper descent, there was little besides walking which could safely be
done by any one.
The actual start was preceded by the customary bargaining with the
coolies. This resulted in reducing by one-half the original charge—only
to find the head man applying late in the evening after our return for an
additional “present” direct from me, in reliance on my ignorance of the
fact that a handsome present had already been given through the friend
who made the arrangement. But, then, such squeezes are not confined
to Korea in the Far East, nor are they peculiar to the Far East and
infrequent in London, Paris, and New York.
Under “Independence Arch,” where, as we have already seen, the promise of
a new and really independent Korea is built into the form of a monument
of stone, the whole party were photographed. At a small village some
three miles from Seoul, the coolies made another stop; here they received
their first advance of money for “chow.” In the street of the village
was standing one of those gorgeous palanquins which serve as biers, and
which give the lifeless body of the poorest Korean his one ride in state
to the hillsides where the tombs of the dead hold the ground against
the fields needed for cultivation by the living. But these hillsides
at least serve the living to some good purpose as preferred places for
recreation and for intercourse with nature, as well as, in some sort,
with their deceased ancestors. In Korea, as in India, birth, marriage,
and death are expensive luxuries for the poor; to get into the world,
to beget an heir, and to get out of the world again, absorb all the
accumulated resources of a lifetime of toil for the average Korean.
Surely, under such circumstances, “the will to live” lays itself open
to the charge of Schopenhauer—that it is blind and working ever to the
production of increased misery. Industrial development, firmly coupled
with improved morality, and with the cheer and hopes of an elevating
religion, as a true “psychical uplift,” are the only sufficient cure for
such pessimistic tendencies.
[Illustration: West Gate or “Gate of Generous Righteousness.”]
Among the several attempts at photographing made on the way to Puk Han,
were some intended to catch one of the numerous Korean children who
appeared _puris in naturalibus_. These were uniformly unsuccessful.
Pictures of this characteristic sort were not to be had by us foreigners,
although the attempts were supported by the offer of sizable coins.
At the first motion to point the camera toward these features of
the landscape, they took to their heels and fled afar with urgent
precipitancy.
Within perhaps two miles of the Outer Gate of the mountain Fortress we
were obliged to dismount, the way having become too rough and difficult
even for chairs with four coolies each. Puk Han’s wall was built in
1711; although there is a not altogether improbable tradition that the
mountain, which is somewhat more than 2,000 feet high, was fortified long
before, under the Pakje kingdom. The gate through which one enters the
walled enclosure is picturesque and interesting. Not far inside the wall,
across a little valley, are to be seen the solid stone foundations of the
new Buddhist temple which is to take the place of one that was destroyed
by fire. This is one of several indications that the introduction of
modern civilization and of Christian missions is to be followed in
Korea, as it certainly has been followed in Japan and elsewhere, by a
revival of the spirit, and an improvement in the form and efficacy,
of the older religion of the country. Buddhism has, indeed, been for
centuries largely lacking in all moral force and spiritual satisfactions
in Korea. But I cannot agree with those who are so sure that it is not
capable of revival there, of improvement, and even of offering a vigorous
competition to Christian evangelizing.
As we climbed up toward the pavilion in which we were to take our
luncheon, we saw few ruins of the structures which were once scattered
over the area within the mountain’s wall; but everywhere was an abundance
of beautiful wild flowers and flowering shrubs. Among the many varieties
were wigelia, cypripedium, several kinds of iris, Solomon’s-seal,
syringa, hydrangea, giant saxifrage, large white clematis, hawthorne,
jassamine, lilies of the valley, many kinds of violets and azaleas, wild
white roses, viburnum, Allegheny vine, and wild cherry.
About twenty minutes before we reached the pavilion where it was proposed
to spread out our luncheon, great drops of rain caused us to quicken
our pace; and the following smart shower which crept by the brow of the
overhanging mountain, in spite of the protection of our umbrellas, gave
the party somewhat of a wetting before shelter was reached. But soon the
rain was over; the sun came gloriously out; the mountain stream which was
just below the outer wall of the pavilion ran fuller and more merrily;
and the food was more comforting in contrast with the slight preceding
discomfort.
Lying in the sun on a shelving rock, I had an interesting conversation
with the English Consul-General. In the course of this Mr. Cockburn
expressed the amazement of his country at what he graciously called the
“patience” of Americans in putting up so quietly with political and
social wrongs which the English had refused any longer to suffer, now
nearly a century ago. He seemed sincerely gratified at my assurance that
the feeling of the United States toward England is more cordial and
appreciative of our common good and common mission in the world than
was the case twenty-five and thirty years ago. I found myself also in
hearty agreement with his view that the treaty between Great Britain and
Japan, whether it should prove of commercial advantage to the former, or
not, was fruitful of good to the latter nation, to the Far East, and to
mankind as interested in the world’s peace.
At about four o’clock the party started on its return to Seoul. The
distance was some ten miles, most of which must be walked, by a rather
steep descent in places over barren surfaces of granite rock. But the
path at first led us still higher up the mountain until, having passed
through an inner gate, we reached the outer wall upon the other side of
the whole enclosure. For as much of the slope of Puk Han, as somewhat
more than two miles of rambling wall can embrace, constitutes this
fortified retreat of the Korean monarchy. Thus, with its stores of
provisions and implements of war, the cultivated fields, palaces, and
other official and unofficial residences inside, it was intended that Puk
Han, like its somewhat earlier colleague, the fortresses of Kang Wha,
should resist siege by any numbers and for any length of time. But from
prehistoric times to Port Arthur, and all over the earth from Sevastopol
to Daulatabad, the experiences of history have shown how vain is the
hope of the rulers of men to ward off the results of moral and political
degeneracy by walls of stone and implements of iron.
Far away on the very top of the mountain, to the left of our path, stood
a watch-tower which commanded a view of all this part of Korea. From both
of the gates in this portion of the wall, which, although they are only
a short distance apart, look toward different points of the compass,
the views are extensive and charming. To the southward one could look
down the steep mountain side, over a valley from which rose rocky but
brilliantly colored hills, bare for the most part of foliage, and through
which the silvery thread of the River Han wound its way, upon a series of
mountain ranges bounded only by the horizon. From the Western gate were
to be seen Chemulpo and its island-dotted harbor, and beyond the open sea.
The downward path of Puk Han winds around the mountain, from the Southern
gate in the wall toward the northwest; and although it is quite too
steep and rough for safe descent in chairs, it is not particularly
difficult for those who walk it with sound knee-joints and ordinarily
careful and judicious feet. For the first five or six miles it affords an
uninterrupted series of interesting and beautiful views. Here the colors
of the rock, when seen in full sunlight, were trying for all but the
most insensitive eyes. But as the light was modified by the occasional
passing of clouds, or by the changes in the relation of the path to the
points of the compass, the effect was kaleidoscopic in character on a
magnificent scale. On this side of the mountain the shapes of the rocks
are peculiar. In general, each mountain-ridge—supreme, subordinate, or
still inferior—is composed of a series of pyramidally-shaped granite
structures, rising higher and higher as to their visible summits; but
with their sides welded, as it were, together, and their surfaces of
disintegrated yellowish or reddish rock. Between the sides of the
pyramids in each series, and between the different series, and between
the higher ranges composed of the series, are dry ravines, down which
the summer rains descend in torrents, keeping the slopes of all these
rocky elevations almost bare of verdure. Thus there is produced an
aspect of severe grandeur quite out of proportion to the real height
of the mountains. But this aspect is relieved by an abundant growth of
wild flowers and flowering shrubs—such as have been already named and
still others—with more gorgeous blossoms than I have anywhere else seen
produced by the same species. With these the ladies filled all hands,
and all the luncheon baskets—and then even the chairs, which, however,
we took again as soon as it became practicable, to the relief of feet
and knees; and thus we entered the city by the North-West Gate, where we
stopped awhile to rest the men and to enjoy the magnificent view of Seoul
from the inside of the gate.
The excursion up Puk Han will certainly be remembered by some of the
party as one of the most enjoyable to be obtained anywhere. It far
surpasses most of those much-lauded by the guide-books in other more
frequented but really less rewarding portions of the world.
If time had permitted, by turning aside an hour or two, the ascent of
Puk Han might have been varied by a visit to the “Great White Buddha.”
This rather interesting relic of a long-time decaying, but possibly
now to be revived, Buddhism, I visited one morning in company with Mr.
Gillett. The path to it leaves the main road some miles out of the city;
where it begins to wind through the paddy fields it becomes somewhat
difficult for jinrikishas. On the way one passes shrines such as are
used not infrequently for the now forbidden exorcising ceremonies of the
sorceresses, and heaps of stones that are continually being piled upon
by the passers along the way, who wish thus to propitiate the spirits
and to obtain good luck. The Buddha itself is a large and rudely-shaped
figure, whitewashed on to the face of a rock, which has been escarped and
covered with a pavilion, having a highly decorative frieze and a roof
set on granite pillars. A few women were there worshipping in the manner
common to the ignorant populace in Korea and Japan—_i. e._, clapping the
hands, offering a small coin or two, and mumbling a prayer. A dirty,
disreputable-looking priest was assiduously gathering up the coins, for
they had merely been placed upon a table before the Buddha, instead
of being thrown into an enclosed box. He volunteered the explanation
that this was the most celebrated place in all Korea at which to offer
effective prayer for a son; childless women, and also men, came from
all over the land to worship at this shrine. In Korea, as well as in
India and China, this vulgar and degrading superstition is connected
with ancestor worship—namely, that the welfare of the living and the
dead, in this world and in the next, is somehow inseparably bound up
with begetting and bearing, or somehow possessing, a male descendant.
No heavier curse is put on woman; no subtler form of temptation to
lust for man; no more burdensome restriction on society; and no more
efficient check to a spiritual faith and a spiritual development exists
among the civilized peoples of the world than this ancient but unworthy
superstition. Even devil-worship is scarcely less cruel and socially
degrading.
It was with sincere regret that I left Korea without the opportunity to
see the country even more widely, to feel more profoundly the spirit
of its national life, and to become more acquainted in a relatively
“first-hand” way with its history and its antiquities. I was confident
that I had gained sufficient trustworthy information to judge fairly
of the character of the native government—Emperor and Court and
Yang-bans—to estimate in a measure the difficulties which encompassed the
position of the Resident-General, and to appreciate the sincerity and
self-sacrificing nature of his plans and the value of his achievements.
But there are few countries in the world to-day where richer rewards
await the expert and patient investigator of history and of antiquities.
The history of Korea remains to be written; its antiquities are there to
be explored.
CHAPTER VII
THE DEPARTURE
Soon after breakfast on the morning of the day before our stay in Seoul
came to an end (Monday, May 27th), a telephone message was reported with
the inquiry whether we expected to be at home at ten o’clock. Contrary to
the understanding of the servant who brought the report, it proved to be
Marquis Ito himself who, accompanied by General Murata, had kindly taken
the time from his always busy morning hours to call in person and bid his
guests good-by. Speaking with his customary quiet deliberation, brevity,
and sincerity, His Excellency thanked me for the services rendered to him
and to his nation, both directly and indirectly, by the visit to Korea;
and the words which added a promise of continued friendship will always
remain among the choicest of memories. In reply—with more adequate reason
but with no less sincerity and earnestness—I thanked the Marquis for the
confidence he had reposed in me, and as well for the experience which
his invitation had furnished. If I had been of some small service, I had
received a much more than adequate reward in the opportunity of seeing
an interesting side of human life which had hitherto been, for the most
part, unfamiliar to me. I also expressed my belief in a universal and
omnipotent Spirit of Righteousness, who shapes the destinies of men and
of nations, and who uses us all in His service—if we so will—to our own
real well-being and to the good of humanity. God has so bound together
Japan and Korea, both physically and politically, that their interests
cannot be separated, whether for weal or for woe.
In the afternoon of the same day, at the house of Mr. D. W. Stevens,
whose hospitality we had before enjoyed and whose friendship we had
learned highly to prize, we met at tea some twenty-five of the most
intimate of the acquaintances made during the previous two months. This
was not, however, our final leave-taking of these friends. For the next
morning at 8.50, at the South-Gate Station, most of the same persons
gathered to give us one of those partings which one would not gladly
miss, but which are always a mixture of sad pleasure and sweet pain. The
insight of the Japanese language into such human experiences is shown
by the fact that it has a single word which combines all these complex
elements, and expresses them in itself. Nor do I find that the repetition
of many such experiences in different far-away lands at all changes the
intrinsic character of the feelings they excite. To make friends away
from home is the traveller’s choicest pleasure; to part soon from these
friends is the traveller’s keenest pain.
The journey from Seoul to Fusan was without incident and accomplished on
time. As furnishing a change in the character of the surroundings, it is
almost equivalent to going from Korea to Japan. For Fusan is essentially
a Japanese city, and has been such for many years. The greeting given us
on arrival was also characteristically Japanese. There, on the platform,
were thirty or more of both sexes, including the Resident and other
officials, whose cards were handed to us with such speed and profusion
that to recognize names was impossible, and even to avoid dropping some
of the pieces was difficult. The harbor launch again served us, as it had
done before, for transportation between railroad station and Japanese
settlement. Only twenty minutes were allowed for effecting a presentable
appearance after the day’s travel; and then we were ushered to the
dining-room, where about fifty persons had gathered for a complimentary
banquet. After this, the Resident introduced, welcomed, and proposed
a toast for the guests, and Mr. Zumoto interpreted the response. The
banquet finished, there followed, in another part of the hotel, an
entertainment of juggling, a farce, and dancing to samisen and koto—all
by amateur performers. The day had certainly, when it ended, been
sufficiently full of incident. But a real old-fashioned Japanese bath, in
a deliciously soft wooden tub, with water at 108° Fahrenheit—the first I
had been able to obtain during this visit to Japan—took away all soreness
of flesh and weariness of spirit, and secured a good night’s rest.
The following morning in Fusan was dull and unpromising—there was
drizzle, cloud, and fog over land and sea, and a fresh breeze. In spite
of the weather, however, we were taken in jinrikishas to the villa of
Mr. Kuruda, one of the oldest of the Japanese settlers, a prosperous
commission merchant and manufacturer of saké. This villa is seated on
the mountain’s side and is surrounded by as fine an example of a certain
style of Japanese gardening as I have ever seen. Here is a profusion of
artistic rock arrangement, decorated with shrubs and flowers, for the
most part brought from Japan, and marking out ponds, paths, and favored
points of view from which can be had glimpses of the charming harbor
and surrounding hills. The owner was proud to have us know that Marquis
Ito makes the villa his home when journeying between Korea and Japan.
Among other objects of interest in the garden is a huge boulder which
fell from the mountain’s side some twenty years ago; near this the owner
of the garden has chosen his last resting-place, and upon it the proper
inscription has already been prepared.
After leaving the villa we were shown over one of the public schools
which has been founded for the children of Japanese residents, and were
bidden to notice how its reports showed the high average attendance of
from 93 per cent. to 98 per cent., and even above, in the different
grades, for the entire year. Next came a visit to a private school for
girls, which is under the patronage of Japanese ladies, and which gives
an education of a more distinctly domestic type. Here we were served
with an excellent luncheon in foreign style, cooked by the pupils of the
school; during and after which there was an entertainment consisting
of _tableaux vivants_ and a musical performance that might best be
described as a trio of kotos with a violin _obligato_. One of these
_tableaux_ represented three young girls defending a castle wall with
bow and arrow—a scene corresponding to actual events of history; for, in
fact, the loyalty of certain clans in the north of Japan carried them to
such extremes in support of the Tokugawa dynasty. Indeed, through many
centuries, Japanese women and girls have been far braver and more loyal
in defence of their liege lord than Korean men have been.
From this school we were taken to the park on the mountain, with its
trees brought from Tsushima some two hundred years ago, to which
reference has already been made (p. 15) as the only one in all Korea.
The Shinto temple upon the hill-top is equally old, and was originally
dedicated to no fewer than nine different divinities—the goddess,
_Amaterasu_ (the “Heaven-Shiner,” or Sun-goddess), born from the left eye
of the Creator Izanagi, whose principal shrine is now at Ise, being the
chief.
The lecture of the afternoon was given to an audience of about six
hundred, upon a topic selected by those who had extended the invitation.
This topic was “The Necessity of an Improved Commercial Morality”; it was
expected that the speaker would enforce and illustrate the thought by
the situation at the present time in Korea, and by an appeal to Japanese
patriotism to show their nation worthy of setting a good example, and
capable of accomplishing the task of industrial development and political
redemption in the land which was now so dependent upon Japan for its
future. Mrs. Ladd also said a few words expressing her interest in what
we had seen in the morning illustrating the education given to Japanese
girls in Fusan, and also the hope that something similar might soon
be possible for their Korean sisters. The heartiness with which these
suggestions were received in this, the principal Japanese settlement of
the Peninsula, shows that the better classes of settlers are honorably
sensitive to the obligation to redeem the fair fame of their nation from
the injury which it has received in the past at the hands of the inferior
and baser elements of their own countrymen.
That this determination was not beyond reasonable hope of speedy
realization was made more evident to me by conversation with the agent
of the Transportation Company operating between Shimonoseki and Fusan. A
careful investigation of its records had revealed the fact that for some
months past about 200 Japanese passengers were, on the average, daily
coming into Korea, and only about 150 returning from Korea to Japan. Of
the fifty who, presumably, remained as settlers, about one-half chose
for their home either the city of Fusan or the surrounding country; the
other half went by rail inland, chiefly to Seoul and Chemulpo. There had
also been of late an obvious change in the character and intention of
these immigrants. Formerly, they were largely young fellows of the type
of adventurers; but now the old people, and the women and children, were
coming with the men—an indication that their business was no temporary
venture, but a purpose to remain and make homes for themselves. When it
is understood that these figures are exclusive of the Japanese military
and civil officials, they compare very closely with the results of
the census taken just before our departure. On taking passage from
Shimonoseki to Fusan we had noticed that the passengers which crowded
and overflowed the second- and third-class cabin accommodations of the
steamer appeared to be very decent folk. Many of them had brought along,
not only their luggage, but also their agricultural implements and
mechanic’s tools. But the subject of Japanese settlement in Korea, and
its effect upon both countries concerned, is so important as to deserve
further discussion of such statistics as are now available.
We went on board the _Iki Maru_ early enough to avoid the crowd that
would come by the afternoon train from Seoul. After bidding good-by to
the score of ladies and gentlemen who had come down to the wharf to
see us off, there was time for dinner before the steamer sailed. As we
watched the retreating shores of Korea, we remembered the morning of two
months before when these shores had first come into view. It was Japanese
friends who had then welcomed us—the same friends who had just bidden
us farewell. But between the two experiences lay a busy period of work
and of observation which had resulted in making more friends, Japanese
and foreign, in Korea itself. But how about the Koreans themselves; had
we won, even to the beginnings of real and constant friendly feeling,
any among their number? I was unable confidently to say. The Koreans
are spoken of, by the missionaries especially, as notably kind and
affectionate in disposition and easily attached to the foreigner by
friendly ties. By the diplomats and business men they are, for the most
part, distrusted and despised. As the guests of Marquis Ito, it was
not strange that we did not quickly gain any assurance of genuine and
trustworthy friendliness on their part. But this, too, is a subject
which requires consideration from a more impersonal point of view. For
there is something startling in the wide divergencies, and even sharp
antagonisms, of the estimates of Korean character which any serious and
disinterested inquiry evokes.
The night of May 29th was rough, and our ship rolled considerably while
crossing the straits between Korea and Japan. But by early morning
we were in smooth water. The likenesses and the contrasts of the two
countries were even more impressive than they had been when we first
landed in Fusan and passed on to Seoul. Soil and landscape, as unmodified
by man, are in this part of Japan almost exactly similar to southern
Korea. Indeed, geologically speaking, they are the same continent; at one
time in the past they were doubtless physically united. But how different
the two countries at the present time, in respect of all the signs of
human activity and human enterprise! Our Japanese companion explained the
prosperity of this part of his native land as growing out of the nature
of its early history. Prince Mori was formerly lord of all this part
of Japan, nearly as far eastward as Hiogo. When driven by Hideyoshi to
its western extremity, he had taken with him a large number of his best
retainers. Their support in the two or three districts which he was still
allowed to retain became at once a most difficult practical problem.
But it was solved by stimulating the farmers and the trading classes to
the highest possible activity in improving the natural resources, which
were by no means unusually great in this part of Japan. Thus it was the
men who made the country rich, and not the country that made the men
rich. One other illustration of the characteristically different spirit
of the two countries was mentioned in the same connection. At one time
when Hideyoshi was making war upon Prince Mori, he was called back by a
rebellion in his own rear. One of his most devoted friends and adherents
had been murdered by the rebels. Whereupon, Hideyoshi summoned his enemy,
told him frankly the truth as to the necessity of his abandoning for the
present his intention to deprive him of all his dominions, and suggested
that the time would be opportune for the Prince to recover much of his
lost ancestral estate. But Prince Mori declined to take advantage of
Hideyoshi’s necessity, since the latter was going, as in knightly-honor
bound, to avenge the death of a friend.
On coming to anchor in the harbor of Shimonoseki we found the
superintendent of the port ready with his launch to convey us to the
shore. After an hour at the hotel, during which the chief of police made
an official call to pay his respects and give us additional assurance
that we were to be well protected, we parted at the train, with sincere
regret, from the Japanese friend who had so kindly arranged all for our
comfort during our two months in Korea.
The appearance of the country along the western end of the Sanyo Railway
on this last day of May, 1907, fully confirmed the account of the
character and the policy of the men who, since the time of Hideyoshi,
have developed it. The views of the sea on the right-hand side of
the train cannot easily be surpassed anywhere in the world. On the
other side, the fields in the valleys, and the terraces on the hills,
constitute one almost continuous, highly cultivated garden for more than
one hundred miles. The tops of the mountains, except in a few unfavorable
spots, are covered with forests of thickly-set and varied arborage. The
comparatively damp climate of Japan covers with that exquisite soft haze
which the Japanese artists appreciate so highly and reproduce so well,
the same kind of soil and of rocks which shine out so bright and strong
in their coloring across the straits in Korea.
In the train, my next neighbor on my right—a big German who smoked strong
cigars incessantly, and who said that he had been in the Orient for forty
years—declared unhesitatingly that the people of Japan, outside of a
certain portion of a few cities where foreign influences had operated
most strongly, were all savages to-day, as they were when the country
was first opened to Western civilization. When he was reminded that the
percentage of children in actual attendance in the public schools was
much larger than in the United States, and at least equal to the most
favored parts of Germany, he replied that the children were never really
being taught in school, but always to be seen out of doors, going through
some kind of “fanatics” or gymnastics! It is no wonder that this comment
elicited no reply. But the picture of the more than a score of thousands
of eager and attentive teachers and students to whom I had spoken—not
by way of occasional, popular speeches, but in courses of lectures and
addresses on serious themes—left me unconvinced. Nor was the remark
attributed to the inferior insight of his own nation, whose scholastic
training for diplomatic service has been superior to that of other
countries, and whose commercial education is fast approaching the same
grade of excellence. But it was another lesson in the purely external
and untrustworthy character of the prevailing knowledge of the Far East,
its people, their excellences and their faults; and, _per contra_, of
the only way reasonably to estimate and effectually to attain friendly
relations with men in general and with Oriental peoples in particular.
The views of the “old resident”—missionary, diplomat, or business man—as
such, are of little or no value. This is especially true as touching the
relations of Japan and Korea.
CHAPTER VIII
PERSONAL REMINISCENCES AND IMPRESSIONS
Before leaving Seoul I ventured to send to His Imperial Majesty of Korea,
through one of his most intimate, devoted, and consistent friends of long
standing, a message that should embody some of my impressions regarding
his own best interests and the essential conditions for the future
welfare of his country. I had already frequently addressed his people
with great plainness, relying upon an implied confidence in the sincerity
of their monarch’s words, spoken at the time of my audience at the Court.
It will be remembered (see p. 46) that the Emperor had then said: “He
was glad to learn I had come to instruct his people in right ways”;
“he hoped they would open their minds to enlightenment and to modern
ideas”; he wished “my addresses would contribute to their progress.”
The speaker had, therefore, not only royal permission but that request,
which, according to the etiquette of this and other Eastern courts, is
the equivalent of a command, when he warned his Korean audiences that
the real prosperity of their country could not be obtained by intrigue
and assassination, but only by cultivating the industries and arts, by
improving education, and by regulating their conduct according to the
unchanging principles of a pure morality and a truly spiritual religion.
Moreover, it should be remembered that, while Oriental monarchs are
accustomed to think of themselves as entitled to rule without regard to
constitutional restrictions and in defiance of control by any legal
code, the Confucian ethics requires them to submit patiently to rebuke
and exhortation, on moral grounds. It also exalts the position of the
teacher of practical philosophy (or ethics) to the highest rank in the
service of the State. Nor had I forgotten the earnest words of the aged
Japanese physician at a banquet held on the evening of the preceding 11th
of February, in the city of Osaka, by which the one hundred and fifty
leading citizens assembled there were reminded that, when the ancient
Oriental teacher and the modern teacher from the West agree in the
doctrine—“It is righteousness which exalteth a nation”—their agreement
is significant of the important conclusion that the doctrine is true. It
did not seem improper, therefore, to call his Majesty’s attention to the
rocks just ahead, directly for which, under the piloting of evil domestic
and foreign counsellors, he was steering the ship of State.
The message emphasized especially the following particulars. Inasmuch as
Japan had already fought one internal and two foreign wars, at a cost of
millions of treasure and thousands of lives, on account of the political
weakness and misrule of Korea, it could not possibly, with a wise
regard either for its own interests or for those of the Korean people
themselves, allow the repetition of similarly disastrous events. The
two nations must learn to live together in amity and with their common
interests guarded against invasion and injury from without. History had
amply shown that this end could not be secured under existing conditions
by Korea alone. The most sacred obligations, not only of self-interest,
but also of a truly wise regard for the Emperor and his subjects, bound
the Japanese Government to establish and maintain its protectorate over
Korea.
Further: no foreign nation, least of all my own, whose constitution
and traditional practice forbade such a thing, was at all likely to
intervene between Japan and Korea. Those counsellors who had led him to
hope for such intervention were deceiving him; and the money which he
had contributed to their schemes was not simply spent in vain; it was
beguiled from him to his own hurt and to the great injury of his own
people, who needed that every _yen_ of it should be judiciously expended
upon developing the resources of the country and improving their own
material condition.
From these points of view, which had regard chiefly, or even solely,
to the interests of the crown and the Korean nation, I regarded the
Resident-General as Korea’s best friend; and also—if the Emperor would
have it so—his own best friend. Of Marquis Ito’s sincere and intelligent
interest in Korea, no one who knew him could have the slightest doubt;
the Emperor must see that the Marquis, as Resident-General, was in a
position of power. To act truthfully and sincerely in his relations
with this powerful friend, and to co-operate with his endeavors at the
improvement of the national condition, would, then, be his own best
way to secure for his people “instruction in right ways,” “the opening
of their minds to enlightenment and modern ideas,” and an effective
“contribution to their progress.”
Moreover, it must be remembered that there had been for centuries,
and there were still, two parties in Japan, with reference to the
proper treatment of Korea. One was the party which favored friendship
between the two countries and a peaceful development of the interests
so important to them both; the other was the party of the strong hand,
which was always urging the immediate application of the most drastic
measures. If it seemed desirable at any time for Japan to do so, the
latter party was ready for subjugation of the country by the military and
for putting it under military control. Marquis Ito had always been one
of the foremost leaders of the party of peace; he had indeed risked not
only his reputation as a far-seeing statesman, but even his personal
safety and his life, in behalf of the peaceful policy. Let His Majesty
carefully reflect upon what it would mean for him and for his country for
the present peaceful plans of the Japanese Government, under the present
Resident-General, to prove unavailing for their difficult task.
But if His Majesty continued to fail of an appreciation of the real
situation, if he persisted in trusting those who were deceiving him
with vain hopes and robbing him and the nation of its resources and its
opportunity, I had the gravest fears that ruin would follow for him and
for his house; and then great increase of trouble for the people of the
land. All this I wished to say to him, not at all as a politician or as
a diplomat, but as a teacher of morals and an observer of human affairs.
Nor did I speak on account of my friendship for Marquis Ito simply; and
not at all by His Excellency’s instigation or request. I was moved by a
sincere desire to see Korea really prosperous and, if it might be so,
to contribute in some small way to the instruction, enlightenment, and
progress of its people.
This message was in due time faithfully transmitted to the Emperor of
Korea, and was listened to with attention and apparently with the same
friendly spirit with which it was sent. Its reception was followed by
the “sincere (?) promise to heed its injunctions and with a protestation
of respect and affection for Marquis Ito.” This is His Majesty’s habit
when he is not excited for the moment by the passions of anger or fear.
“In at one ear and out at the other”—such is the description which those
who have had most experience with this monarch testify as to the real
effect upon him of all such advice. If any honest intention is ever
really formed to keep the promises, to be true to the protestations and
pledges made on such occasions, it is habitually scattered to the winds
by the next impure breath which blows upon him. A master of intrigue
himself (an intrigue of the Korean type which combines as, perhaps,
nowhere else in the world the unmixed elements of a tenuous subtlety and
a fatuous silliness), the Emperor of Korea is also the victim and willing
subject of intriguing eunuchs, concubines, sorceresses, Yang-bans, and
unscrupulous and unsavory foreign adventurers. From his point of view,
his missionary physician is his spy; and, from the same point of view,
the guest of Marquis Ito was, as a matter of course, suspected of being
a spy—in the one case in behalf of, in the other case against, his
cherished interests. And these interests are not the welfare of his
country, or even those more important and lasting interests that concern
his own crown and the perpetuation of the royal house. They are sensuous
and personal. Yet this complex character is truthfully described as
amiable, kindly by preference, and ready to smile upon and give gifts to
all. But this, too, is a problem which requires further consideration,
as one of interest from the psychologist’s point of view not only, but
also and chiefly, from the point of view which regards the social and
political relations of Japan and Korea. At the time my message was
delivered, and even before it was sent, the fatal mistake of sending a
Commission to The Hague had been made. In the case of monarchs and of
nations, as in the case of common folk—individuals and communities—there
are promises sincerely made, but made too late, and penitence which
follows but does not anticipate and prevent the last fatal consequences
of years of folly and of crime.
To these results of my observations in Korea the following particulars
should be added in this place. As has just been indicated, one of the
strongest and most fixed impressions made was that of the well-nigh
hopeless corruption of the Korean Court. Of intrigue and corruption
there is doubtless enough in all courts, especially in those of Oriental
countries. Nor are these evils by any means absent from the political
centres of Republican Governments, whether of the national or local
character. But the intrigue and corruption of the Korean Court are of a
peculiarly despicable and, indeed, intolerable character. The premises
in which it is housed at present are entirely lacking in any appearance
of dignity; are, indeed, almost squalid. In a commonplace brick building
were lodged the Emperor, the Crown Prince, Lady Om, the little Prince
her son, and an innumerable number of court officials, court ladies, and
eunuchs. The Cabinet Ministers in attendance during the night await the
Imperial pleasure in a Korean house near the courtyard, in rooms hardly
larger than horse-stalls. At times the contents of the cesspools, in
close proximity to the main palace gates, offend both eyes and nose. So
often as the rigorous inspection of the foreign lady in control of such
affairs is relaxed, the filth in the apartments themselves begins to
accumulate. Gifts to His Majesty, in value all the way from expensive
screens to baskets of fruit, are appropriated by the court rabble to
their own uses. Dishes, and even chairs, are often stolen by the lackeys
and coolies at the Imperial garden-parties. Yet there is a marvellous
display of gorgeous uniforms worn by the court functionaries; and these
functionaries are numerous enough to cover all the usual bureaus,
ceremonies, decorations, and offices really existing or imaginary, with
the customary crowd of masters of ceremony and chamberlains thought
needful for the courts of the largest and wealthiest nations. At the time
of the disbandment of the army, thirty generals and only ten colonels
constituted the corps of officers in command.
All these appointments have hitherto been dependent on the “gracious
favor” of His Majesty and have been dispensed without regard to moral
character or any form of fitness, or to the real interests of the
nation. Indeed, it is no exaggeration to say that they have often been
sold to those who offered the highest percentage of squeezes for the
outstretched royal hand. To secure them, access to the ear of the
Emperor is indispensable in most cases. Not a few of the most low-lived
and unscrupulous of his subjects and of foreigners have been recipients
of royal favors in this way. To quote the words of one who knows: “Now
it was the interpreter of a foreign legation, now a common police spy,
now a minister or ex-minister of State, and now some comparatively humble
member of the Imperial _entourage_. The soothsayers, geomancers, and
others of that ilk, were always present, and frequently influential in
devising grotesque schemes which spelled profit to themselves and to
other hangers-on of the court. But the most constant influence at court
of late years was that exercised by some of the eunuchs. Among these, the
chief eunuch Kang, was probably the most powerful. He grew rich upon the
perquisites of office, and would undoubtedly be flourishing still, had
it not been for the famous house-cleaning which the-court underwent some
time ago. He then fled, and report has it (seemingly with good reason)
that he was harbored nearly two weeks for a substantial consideration,
in the house of a foreigner connected in a subordinate capacity with an
American business concern. When in his heyday he exercised great personal
influence with the Emperor, and there are well authenticated instances
of cabinet ministers having bribed him in order to secure access to the
Imperial presence.”
It should also be remembered that this state of things in the Court of
Korea was not at all in spite of the Emperor, but was rather of his own
choosing. Indeed, his character and habit of conducting his Imperial
office was the principal effective reason for the perpetuation of such
corruption. The signs of this stream of evil influence are by no means
all concealed. Every day of my stay in Seoul I was witness to the line
of jinrikishas, and the procession of pedestrians—many of a by no means
prepossessing appearance—along the lane on which stands the gate through
which those seeking audience were passing in to the palace enclosure. As
to foreigners who, in person, are introduced to the Emperor, the Japanese
Government had then a practically efficient control. But for Korean
subjects, and for foreigners using Koreans to further their schemes,
there was at that time still abundant access. And the number of those
who visited this “prisoner in his palace” was frequently advertised
in the daily news as counted by scores and by hundreds. To leave his
“prison” and go out upon the streets of Seoul otherwise than on those
rare ceremonial occasions when everything is _prepared_ beforehand, would
have been for His Majesty to break with the etiquette of centuries. Now,
however, that the Japanese are in much more complete control, the freedom
of the Emperor’s movements is greatly enlarged.
I shall not easily forget how the contrast between the new forces of
spiritual uplift and the old forces of intellectual and moral degradation
came over me, as I was present one Sunday at the morning service of
the Methodist church, which stands just across the way from the palace
enclosure. The combined congregations gathered here numbered an audience
of more than one thousand, nearly one half of which were children. Bishop
Ross preached a short and simple sermon, Dr. Jones interpreting. Several
of the American delegates to the great missionary Conference in China,
on their way homeward, were present, surprised and rejoicing in the size
and enthusiasm of the Korean multitude of hearers. The girls from one
of the schools patronized by Lady Om (whose true history is told in Mr.
Angus Hamilton’s book, and who is now euphemously styled the “Emperor’s
consort”), which had recently been complained of by the English edition
of the _Korean Daily News_ for “being used to foster allegiance to
Japan,” were singing “I surrender all to Jesus.” But what was then being
done a few yards distant, just over the palace wall, where were living a
collection of as vulgar, ignorant, corrupt, and murderous men and women
as were to be found anywhere in so-called “heathendom”?
How the intrigue and deceitfulness, combined with weakness, of the
Korean Emperor and his Korean and foreign friends, terminated with the
commission to The Hague Peace Conference is now a matter of history. As
such, it demands a further study in its historical origins and historical
setting.
The impression which I received as to the capacity and character of the
Korean official and Yang-ban (or “gentry”) class was, on the whole, not
reassuring in regard to their real willingness or ability to inaugurate
and support governmental and industrial reforms in Korea. It is indeed
difficult for one born and fostered under an Occidental—and, perhaps,
especially an American—system of civilization justly to appreciate the
institutions and the personal characteristics of the men of the Orient.
Of this difficulty I had had an initial experience on my first visit
to Japan fifteen years ago. Repeated visits to Japan, and intimate
intercourse with Japanese of various classes, together with painstaking
observation of the people, had enabled me to overcome this difficulty to
a considerable extent, so far as the Land of the Rising Sun is concerned.
But, as has already been indicated, Old Japan was really more like
Mediæval Europe in many of its most essential psychological and social
characteristics, than like either modern India, or China, or Korea. A
winter spent in travel and lecturing rather widely over India was of more
important service in coming to an understanding of the upper classes in
Korea. This, too, is insufficient for a standard of comparison. With
the high-caste Hindu a Westerner of reflective mind will, of course,
have many intellectual interests in common. With the Korean Yang-ban,
except in the very rarest cases, there can be no common interests of
this kind. The problems of life and destiny, the Being of God, the
constitution of the universe, the fundamental principles of ethics,
politics, and law are of little concern to him. It is doubtful, indeed,
whether it has ever dawned upon his mind that there are such questions
worthy of patient consideration by the reflective powers. A few, but
a few only—such, at any rate, was the impression made upon me—have a
genuine, unselfish, and fairly intelligent sentiment of patriotism as
distinguished from a desire to use office and influence for the promotion
of their own self-interested ends. And these few—even that still smaller
number who to the sentiment of patriotism add manly courage, strength of
purpose, and readiness to suffer—are incapable of combining their forces
so as to carry through in their own land any policy to secure the most
imperatively needed reforms. After discussing this matter repeatedly
with one of Korea’s most appreciative and respected foreign friends, I
forced him to this admission: namely, there were not, then, so far as
he knew, two leaders of men in all Korea who could come together, trust
each other, agree together, and stand together, to fight and work for the
good of their country to the bitter end. Moreover, had it been possible
to find two, or even twenty, such strong and trusted political leaders,
under his late Majesty and the unpurged court of his rule, the reformers
could not have escaped exile or assassination, so far as Majesty and
Court were permitted to have their own way. Indeed, it was during all
that spring only the determined purpose of the Japanese Government, as
administered by Marquis Ito, that made possible the inauguration and
progress of any measure of reform. It was the same wise policy that
stood between the Emperor and a fate similar to that endured by his
royal consort at dawn of October 8, 1895. And only after his friend, the
Resident-General, hoping for a long time against the repeated violation
of the grounds of hope, had reached the sad conclusion that the Emperor’s
“disease was incurable,” and that the vital interests of Korea as well
as of Japan demanded the termination of his unfortunate and disgraceful
career, did the event take place. Even then, however, it was forced by
his own cabinet ministers.
As to the general character of the administration of the magistrates
throughout the country of Korea, in the winter and spring of 1906
and 1907, there can be no difference of intelligent opinion. It was
essentially the same which it had been for hundreds of years. With
rare exceptions, which were liable to make the magistrate suspected
and traduced to the Emperor and his court, the local jurisdiction in
Korea was a system of squeezes and acts of oppression, capable of
classification only under two important specific differences. These
differences were, first, the marks of strength and corruption combined
with cruelty, and, second, of weakness and corruption without obvious
cruelty. The following extracts from the _Korean Daily News_—the paper
which (with its native edition) Mr. Hulbert and Mr. Bethell, its
editor, were employing to excite foreign and native opposition to the
Japanese—are only a small number of the items of news on which this
impression was based:
As a high official was passing through the streets heavily
guarded, a number of men belonging to the chain-gang were
passed. One of them was heard to remark that if the official
were not a criminal himself he would not need the heavy guard,
and he added that after his term of penal labor was over the
first thing he would do would be to kill that official and
a few more like him. These words were heard by all and they
continued until the minister was out of sight.
A man of Ma-chun (near Chemulpo) was recently arrested by order
of the local magistrate and tortured without cause. After
confinement and torture for a period of eight days the man
expired and his relatives are now asking the Supreme Court to
look into the matter and punish the magistrate.
A report from South Chul-la Province states that the people
in a certain section there do not look with favor on the new
tax-collectors; on the contrary, they say that they will tie up
the collectors with ropes and make life hard for them.
A Japanese report from the far Northeast says that a band of
500 Koreans attacked the Japanese at Whang-hai-po and some
people were wounded by the Koreans; they were repulsed by
Japanese gendarmes from Kyung-heung.
On Tuesday evening over 250 rioters marched down on Neung-chon
district, broke down the telegraph poles, and attacked the
people. The matter was reported to the police and many were
despatched to the scene of the outbreak. The rioters, however,
had dispersed before they could be arrested.
We hope it is not true, as the Koreans report, that the
Governor of Chung-ju has eaten the money which the Emperor
gave for the relief of the sufferers from the flood there last
autumn. He is said to have gone even further than this and
compelled these destitute people to give their time for nothing
to public works. This is worth looking into.
An armed band of robbers made a raid on the road-repairing
bureau at Chin-nampo the other day and carried away
considerable property. In the struggle the Japanese engineer
and two Korean officers were severely wounded.
It is time that serious steps were taken to put down the
brigandage that prevails in the country. No one’s property
appears to be safe, for we now learn that the Dongak Sa
monastery in Kong Chu district has been rushed by robbers and
pillaged of everything that was at all valuable.
It must not be supposed that these instances of disturbance in the
provinces are rare and selected from a long period of time. Indeed, fully
one-half as many instances, illustrative of the condition of things
prevalent in the country districts of Korea as have been given above,
might have been taken from single issues of this morning paper. So true
is this that its daily column headed “Local News and Comment,” called
out an ironical article from the Japanese semi-official paper, the _Seoul
Press_, entitled “Speak Well of Your Friends.” In this article was the
assertion: “A digest of its issues (_i. e._, of the _Korean Daily News_)
for one month, as far as they relate to the Koreans, would indicate that
outside Seoul every third Korean was a bandit, while in Seoul every other
man was either a traitor or corrupt. This hardly appears to be the way
to establish a good reputation for the Koreans.” One needs, however, to
know only a little as to the proper reading between the lines, in order
to discover that the real reason why there was a dearth of good news,
of importance enough to print, in this anti-Japanese paper was this:
_almost all such items would have accrued to the credit of the Japanese
Administration_. Such items would, therefore, bring into too strong
contrast, to suit these foreign friends of Korea, the traditional ways
and results of the Korean Government and the already manifest effects of
the reforms that were being carried through by the Resident-General and
his Japanese and Korean helpers.
The news from the country, as given by the pro-Japanese press did not
differ from that given by this anti-Japanese paper from which extracts
have already been made. The former, however, dwelt much more upon the
changes for the better which were being accomplished, chiefly at Seoul,
but also in other cities and even in the country districts. The following
extracts, selected from a number of similar items, will show this
statement to be true. Says the _Seoul Press_:
A report received in the Police Adviser’s Office here on
Monday night states that a body of rioters assaulted and set
on fire seven buildings of the District officials of Ko-syöng,
South Kyöng-sang-do. The officials have all taken refuge in
Chin-nampo, and two leaders of the rioters were arrested. The
rioters, however, show no signs of dispersing. All foreigners
and the police are said to be safe, but there were some
casualties on the side of the rioters. According to a later
report received here from Vice-Resident Wada at Masan, the
rioters assembled numbered some 1,500. Grievances in connection
with taxation were the immediate cause of the trouble. On the
night of the 6th instant the mob stormed the office of the
District Magistrate and destroyed the jail, liberating all
prisoners within. In addition, they burned down seven buildings
of the district officials, and some people were seriously
injured. Police Inspector Nakagawa’s men, in conjunction with
the twenty troops told off from Chin-nampo, succeeded in
arresting three rebel leaders. The District Magistrate escaped,
and all the Japanese are safe. The disturbance has not yet been
suppressed.
Still another item from the _Seoul Press_ narrates a similar experience:
Disquietude of a somewhat serious nature is reported from
Kim-hai, under the Fusan Residency. About six o’clock in the
morning of the 14th inst., the Residency of Fusan received a
message from Kim-hai to the effect that a number of Koreans
were threatening to storm the District Office on account of
some grievance connected with taxation. Several policemen were
at once despatched to the scene of trouble, where they found
a crowd of natives actively rioting. The latter broke open
the prison, set all its inmates free and, far from yielding
to the advice of the policemen to disperse, offered obstinate
resistance. The policemen found the odds hopelessly great,
and decided to ask for re-enforcements. About this time there
arrived a force of our gendarmes who hastened to the disturbed
scene on receipt of the news that Mr. Lyang Hong-muk, the
Magistrate of Kim-hai District, had been taken prisoner by
the rioters, and that our police force from Kui-po, having
attempted to recover the Magistrate, were suffering from the
violence of the furious mob. The mob, however, successfully
checked the advance of the gendarmes for some time by the
free use of cudgels and other weapons. In the meantime, Mr.
Lyang was carried away by the mob and his whereabouts is still
unknown. Police re-enforcements subsequently arrived, and
ordered the rioters to go home, but in vain. It is stated that
the situation is assuming a more serious aspect. A joint force
of our gendarmes and policemen was despatched from Fusan early
on the morning of the 15th inst. Reports conflict about the
number of rioters, but it is believed that they are some 400.
All this, and similar experiences, as well as the history of the Korean
people for two thousand years, raises the serious question of the
possibility of a truly national redemption. Both before and during my
visit to Seoul I was given to understand by foreign residents, Japanese
and European, that the case of the nation is hopeless; their whole social
and political system is decadent; they are an effete race, destined to
give way before the invasion of members from any more vigorous race.
But Marquis Ito evidently entertained no such view. It was the Korean
nation which he desired to rescue and to lift up—whether with, or
without, the consent and assistance of their Emperor and his court. Of
the same opinion with the Marquis were the missionaries. Many of these
were extravagant in their praises of the native characteristics of their
converts, and not only sincerely attached to them, but also confident
of their capacity for educational advancement and moral and social
reform. To be sure, when asked more particularly as to what were the
precise traits of character which encouraged these hopes and elicited
this affection, and when reminded how almost universal had been the
confessions, recent and still going on among the native Christians,
of long-continued indulgence in the vices of lying, dishonesty, and
impurity, there was no altogether satisfactory answer to be given.
The grounds for praise were usually exhausted when the amiable and
affectionate nature of the Korean had been duly emphasized. To increase
my distrust of the view held by the missionaries, were the facts gained
in conversation with others who had been witnesses to the actions
of the excited Korean populace; who had seen Korean officials that
had offended this populace, or had been the object of some trumped-up
charge circulated by their political rivals and enemies, beaten, jumped
upon, smashed, torn limb from limb by their “gentle” and “amiable”
fellow-countrymen. Nor were these things done in remote country-places,
but in Seoul itself, near the Great Bell in the neighborhood of Song-do.
I had also heard from the lips of Mr. Morris, manager of the Seoul
Electric Railway, the story of how, at three o’clock in the morning of
the night of May 27, 1900, he had been called out of bed and, accompanied
by an escort of Japanese soldiers, taken to the prison near the Little
West Gate to view the bodies of An Kyun Soo and Kwan Yung Chin. These
were reformers who had been cajoled through promises of fair treatment
by the smiling Emperor and his officials to return from exile in Japan;
whereupon they had been foully murdered. Was one to share the “shivery
feeling” with which Mr. Morris passed between the rows of instruments
of torture to view the red marks of the cord with which these patriots
had been strangled; or was one to trust the estimate of their Christian
teachers regarding the mild and lovable disposition of the native
Koreans? There was also the glimpse into the smouldering fires of hatred
and cruelty, mingled with cowardice and hypocrisy, which I had myself had
during the visit to Pyeng-yang. And there were the unceasing daily items
of both the pro- and the anti-Japanese papers, to which reference has
already been made. Finally, there was the fact that these characteristics
of the Korean populace were historical, and were chiefly in evidence
among themselves, in their relations toward their own countrymen rather
than directed toward foreigners, even including the Japanese. Out of
this confusion of witnesses there slowly emerged the conclusion that
the mixture of good and bad needed itself to be historically explained;
therefore, neither the denunciations of the one party nor the praises of
the other could afford to the observer the sufficient reasons for a just
judgment of the native character. It is, indeed, on the whole, just now
rather more despicable than that of any other people whom I have come to
know. But it is not necessarily beyond redemption. At any rate, here is
another question which needs illumining in the whiter and broader light
of history.
The impressions gained as to the Koreans—Emperor, Court, Yang-bans, and
populace—were, of course, intimately associated with the impressions
formed as to the nature and efficiency of the forces chiefly at work for
the reform and uplift of the nation. Such reforming and uplifting forces
are undoubtedly these two: the personality of the Resident-General,
assisted in his work by the official corps under him, and supported
by the Government of His Imperial Majesty of Japan; and the Christian
missionaries. What impressions, then, seemed warranted by my observations
as to the soundness and efficacy of these two forces?
As to the sincerity of Marquis Ito in his self-sacrificing and arduous
task of effecting a reformed condition, industrially and politically,
of the Korean nation, no shadow of doubt ever arose in my own mind. But
this is a relatively small and unimportant thing to say. It is more
instructive as to the truth to notice that his _sincerity_ was, so far as
I am aware, never questioned by any one, not even by those most hostile
to his policy, except in an obviously ignorant and hypocritical way. The
extreme military party of Japan, the advocates of the strong hand and of
immediate forcible annexation, as well as anti-Japanese missionaries and
other foreigners, and even that Korean officialdom which always has so
much difficulty in believing that any one in office can be sincere—all
these, as soon as ignorant prejudice became but partially enlightened,
ceased to bring the charge of self-seeking and deceit against the
Resident-General. For he had unmistakably affirmed, both privately and
publicly, to his own countrymen, to the Koreans, and to the world, that
it was his intention to do all that in his power lay _for the betterment
of the condition of the Korean people themselves_. When His Korean
Majesty, who had not only repeatedly violated his most solemn treaty
obligations, but had also, with frequent prevarications, falsehoods, and
treachery, broken his equally solemn promises to the man who was far
more unselfishly interested in the welfare of Korea than was its ruler,
involved himself in sore trouble, he, too, turned to the Marquis Ito for
advice and help. That even the insincere Korean Emperor and his corrupt
Court believed in the sincerity of the Resident-General I have abundant
reason to know.
It was not the sincerity of Marquis Ito, however, which made most
impression upon the leading people of Seoul; it was rather the qualities
of patience, pity, and gentleness. Such are, indeed, not usually the
mental attitudes of the diplomat or politician toward those who are
intriguing, or otherwise actively endeavoring to defeat his cherished
plans. It should not be forgotten that less than a year before, during
the absence of the Resident-General, a plot had been formed which
involved his assassination; and that this plot had been traced to those
who had the _entrée_ of the Palace, in despite of their well-known
bad character, and some of whom were the recognized Korean associates
of the men whose “services” to the Korean Emperor terminated in the
commission to the Peace Conference at The Hague. Of those Korean
officials who were most opposed to the Japanese Protectorate, the Marquis
was ready to say that he sympathized with them in their desire for the
perfect independence of their country; nor did he blame them for their
struggles to bring about this result so long as their way was free from
lying, robbery, and murder. But the witness of history he regarded as
unimpeachable proof of the incapacity of the Korean ruling classes to
lift up, or to rule well their own country; unaided, they could never
effect the reformation of existing industrial and social evils. Japan,
the Far East, and the interests of the civilized world forbade their
being longer permitted to disturb the peaceful relations of foreign
nations. In this connection the Marquis once spoke of the difficulty
which he experienced in preventing his own countrymen from themselves
degenerating in character under the morally depressing influences of
Korea. These influences had, in his judgment, been more or less effective
in the case of most foreigners—diplomats and missionaries included—who
had lived for a long time in Seoul. “I tell them,” said he, “you must
not become Koreans; you are here to raise the Koreans up, and you cannot
do this if you sink down to their level.” At a small dinner party, at
the house of one of the foreign consuls, the Resident-General spoke more
freely than is his custom about his own early life, his observations
during his several trips abroad in America, Europe, and Russia, and the
ideals which had guided his official career. In this connection, with
reference to his present work in Korea, he referred to the expressions
of surprise from some of his foreign colleagues, that he could endure so
calmly the ways of the Koreans toward him and toward his administrative
efforts; but “in truth,” he added, “I have no feelings of anger toward
these people; they are so ignorant, they have been so long deprived of
all honest and enlightened government, they are so poor and miserable, I
am not angry with them. I pity them.”
It will doubtless seem a strange reversal of what many in the United
States and elsewhere have been led to believe was true—and certainly it
is a strange reversal of what ought to have been true—when I say that
the patience and sympathy of Marquis Ito in his relations with the
foreign Christian workers in Korea was a surprise to me. The behavior of
some of the missionaries and men prominent in the circle of the Young
Men’s Christian Association, which was in receipt of a subsidy from the
Japanese Government, had been trying indeed. That their professed Korean
converts and adherents had used the name of Christian and the Christian
organizations for selfish political purposes could not have been wholly
avoided. Even the threats of legal proceedings had been unable to prevent
this. But that injudicious reports of wrongs, either exaggerated or
wholly false, should be sent by private and public letters to the “home
country,” while the requests of the Resident-General to learn of these
wrongs and to have the opportunity to correct them remained wholly
unheeded, constituted a trial to patience which, I am of the opinion,
few men in his position would have borne so well. Emphasis was given to
this by the fact that some of the most violent and false accusations
against the Japanese Government in Seoul were made in papers and books
published by authors who were known to be on terms of friendship with
foreign religious agencies. Even certain paid attorneys of the Imperial
intrigues against the Resident-General were of this connection. To all
this it should be added that His Excellency was being severely (although
by no means fairly) criticized in his own country for his “excessive”
patience toward these teachers of a foreign religion. Excited by the
reports which were coming from the United States (see p. 62), one of
the respectable Japanese papers of Tokyo (the _Yomiuri_, in its issue
of May 6th) had found it “necessary to examine the past conduct of the
American missionaries in Korea.” It expressed profound admiration “for
the personality of the Founder of Christianity and high respect for the
enthusiasm and devotion of his followers.” But as for those who, “wearing
the mask of missionaries ... pander to the native prejudices ... and
endeavor to thwart our policy by disseminating baseless rumors and
mischievous insinuations, there ought to be no hesitation to deport them
out of the country.” “Marquis Ito, as a friend of peace and liberty, has
already shown more than sufficient conciliation and patience.”
The story of the better way which Marquis Ito steadily followed, with
its unwavering policy of conciliation and patience, and of its success
so far as the majority of the more representative and influential of
the missionary body is concerned, has already been told in part. For
the small number who still refuse to respond to this policy, it is, of
course, not deportation by the Japanese Government, but counsel and
rebuke from their employers at home, which is the proper remedy. But the
impressions of the visitor, who had full measure of the confidence of the
leader of one of these two parties who are working for the redemption
of Korea, and some good measure of the confidence of certain leaders of
the other party, can be given in no other way so well as by quoting the
following words from one of their number:
“From the Peninsula,” said Dr. George Heber Jones, in an address to the
First General Conference of the Methodist Church in Japan, “we watch with
intense interest the development in Japan; for Providence has bound up
together the destinies of the two nations. Nationally, a new life opens
up before Korea. Japan has sent her veteran statesman to advise and
guide Korea, the man to whom in the largest sense Japan owes so much—the
most conspicuous statesman in Asia to-day, Marquis Ito. Plans for the
reform of the Government, codification of the laws, development of the
industry and business of the people, and extension of education, have
been formulated, and in a comparatively short time most promising results
achieved. In spite of difficulties which necessarily for the present
encumber the situation, the outlook is most hopeful. As a church in Korea
we deliberately stand aloof from all politics, but find our work, as
it relates to the production of strong character, of honest, upright,
true men, most intimately related to the regeneration of the nation. The
coming ten years promise to be the most eventful in the history of Korea.”
At a tea-party, given in the gardens of Dr. and Mrs. Scranton, at Seoul,
where Bishop Cranston, Bishop Harris, Dr. Leonard and Dr. Goucher, were
among the non-resident guests, Marquis Ito was present; having arrived
somewhat earlier than the appointed hour. After greeting the ladies and
gentlemen present, the Marquis spoke as follows:
I wish to take this opportunity of saying a few words to you.
I beg you, however, not to expect that I shall say anything
new or striking. I only mean to repeat to you what I have
been saying to the Japanese and the Koreans. If my words are
not new or striking, I may at least assure you that what I am
going to say comes from my heart, and represents just what
I feel and think. As the official representative of Japan
in this country, my principal duty consists in guiding and
assisting Korea in her efforts at improvement and progress.
I entertain deep sympathy with the people of this country;
and it is my earnest ambition to help in saving them from the
unfortunate state in which they now find themselves. You,
ladies and gentlemen, are also here for serving and saving the
Koreans. The only difference is that, while I seek to serve
them through political and administrative channels, you work
for the same end by means of religious influences. We thus
stand on common ground, we are working for a common object. You
will therefore believe me when I assure you that I always take
the most sympathetic interest in your noble work, and that I
am ever ready to co-operate with you, in so far as my duties
permit, in your efforts to further the moral and intellectual
elevation of this people. On the other hand, I feel confident
that I may rely upon a similar attitude on your part toward my
endeavors for the benefit of the Koreans. As to the political
relations between Japan and Korea, it would be too long and
tedious to refer to the past; it is a long history. It is
sufficient for my present purpose to say that the two countries
are so situated toward each other that their destinies are
bound together in the closest manner. To maintain undisturbed
the close mutual relations which fate has ordained for the two
countries, is the object for which Japan is in this country;
beyond that she has no other object. As you know very well,
Korea can hardly be called an organized state in the modern
sense. I am trying to make it such. Whether, or how far, I
may be able to realize my object in this work of political
regeneration, as also in the task of improving the general
lot of the people, God alone knows. All that I can say to you
is that I shall do my best for the successful realization of
my mission. I may be permitted to refer to a matter in which
you can do much good for Koreans. I dare say that among the
many thousands of Japanese in this country, there are some who
disgrace their nation by misconduct toward Koreans; but you
may rest assured that these wrong-doers find in me the most
uncompromising enemy. I may also say that wrong-doing is not
confined to the Japanese; there are similar offenders among
the Koreans too. While I am taking unsparing pains to repress
wrong-doing among the Japanese, I rely upon you for your hearty
co-operation to the same end among the Koreans, in so far as it
lies in your power as their religious teachers and leaders.
But the wisdom and firmness of the Resident-General were no less
impressive than were the qualities of patience and gentleness. To the
student of Korean affairs, of the more recently past and the present
relations of the Japanese to the Koreans, it soon becomes patent what is
chiefly needed in order to mend the former and to improve the latter. It
is first of all the impartial administration of justice, in the way of
righting wrongs, so far as this is possible, and of securing the rights
of life, liberty, and property; then comes the fostering of education in
the industries and arts, and the progressive elevation of the moral and
religious condition of the people. At the time of my visit there were
numberless claims pending of fraud and violence—not so much of recent
occurrence as acts of some months or years old—on the part of Koreans
against Koreans, and of Japanese and Koreans against each other. Land had
been seized and stolen outright, or fraudulently obtained by forged deeds
or under false titles. Foreign promoters were clamoring over privileges
and concessions, which were either purchased with some show of fairness
or obtained from His Majesty, or from some subject, by partnership
with the crowd of Korean official “squeezers.” The weaker race—it was
claimed—was oppressed, insulted, beaten, or rudely pushed around—not
now by their own officials or by Chinese or Russians, but by a people
whose superiority of any sort it humiliated their traditional pride even
grudgingly to admit. The ability of the most honest and capable local
magistrate, whether Japanese or Korean, to discover the truth and to do
any measure of justice was greatly hampered and, indeed, made almost
practically unavailing by the differences in the two languages and by
the fact that the interpreters themselves could, for the most part, in
no respect be thoroughly trusted. It was, indeed, a favorite trick with
the average Korean interpreter to hire out to one of his own countrymen
who had a case against some Japanese, and then to betray his client for
a bribe from the other side, by misstating or falsifying his client’s
cause. And, under such circumstances, what could any magistrate do who
understood only one of the two languages? Moreover, according to the
testimony of Mr. D. W. Stevens, who had made careful examination into
scores of such complaints, it was an extremely rare thing for a Korean,
even when he had a perfectly good case, to refrain from mixing a large
measure of exaggeration and falsehood with his truth-telling; nor was
it easy to find any considerable crime of fraud committed against a
Korean by a Japanese without uncovering a Korean partner to the base
transaction. So crafty are the Koreans that, in most cases of such
partnership, it is not the foreign member of the firm who gets the larger
share of the dividends resulting.
All these impressions as to what was most imperatively needed for the
emergencies that were daily arising I was encouraged to mention to the
Resident-General at any of our several interviews. It was, of course,
desirable first of all to prevent the continuance of the evils which
had been, both in Korea and abroad, charged against his own nationals
in their treatment of the Koreans. Inquiry and observation combined
to confirm the opinion that this was already being accomplished. At
that time, however, most of the riots in the country districts did not
appear to indicate feelings of hatred on the part of the natives toward
“foreign oppressors”; they were only the customary expression of lawless
resistance to a condition of wretchedness and misrule that was of native
origin and indefinitely long-standing. No important acts of violence
on the part of Japanese toward Koreans came under my observation, and
none of recent occurrence were credibly reported. Even of those petty
deeds of rudeness and incivility, which exasperate hostile feeling far
beyond their real significance, I saw comparatively few. There was some
rather contemptuous treatment of the Korean crowd at the gates of the
railway stations and on the platforms of the trains; but the Koreans
are themselves exceedingly stupid and ready to crowd others; and the
handling given them by the Japanese officials was in no case so rough
as that which the proudest American citizen is liable to receive at
the Brooklyn Bridge or on the Fourth Avenue street-cars. Once, indeed,
my jinrikisha-man, after he had several times warned, by his outcry, a
Korean gentleman who was occupying the middle of the street with that
dignified and slow-moving pace so characteristic of the idle Yang-ban, in
order to avoid knocking the pedestrian down with his vehicle, gave him a
somewhat ungentle push to one side. The Korean fell forward, after the
manner of a boy’s tin soldier before a marble. His crinoline hat rolled
off his head, but alighted a short distance away. At first I was alarmed
lest he might be injured, and was about to order the offending kurumaya
to stop his running that I might offer my assistance. But when it
appeared that neither the victim of this scarcely avoidable rudeness, nor
his hat, was injured, and that no one, including the man himself, seemed
to consider the incident worth noticing, I decided not to emphasize it
further. Undoubtedly, this would not have happened with a Japanese child
or woman in the adult Korean’s place; it might easily have happened,
however, in the streets of Tokyo or Kyoto if the pedestrian had been a
man of obviously inferior rank.
In brief, it was the uniform testimony of those who had been in Korea
during the troublous times which followed the war with Russia that, under
Marquis Ito’s administration, Japanese wrong-doers were being sought
out and restrained or punished, and that deeds of violence and even of
rudeness were becoming rarer with every month of his stay.
Other measures which seemed to me desirable to have put in operation
were such as the following: a civil-service examination which should
provide that every official, Korean or Japanese, whose duties brought him
into intimate daily relations with both peoples, should have a working
knowledge of both languages; the organizing of a body of authorized
interpreters, whose honesty and ability to discharge this very delicate
and important function of oral or written interpretation, in all legal
causes and matters of Government business, should be guaranteed, the
speedy and even spectacular demonstration of the Government’s intention
to give to the Korean common people strict justice in all their valid
complaints against the Japanese; the improvement of the character of the
Japanese civil service and of the Japanese police and petty officers of
every kind; and some kind of arrangement between the missionary schools
and the schools under the control of both the Korean and the Japanese
authorities, by which uniformity might be attained in the primary
education, and, in the higher stages, the mistakes made by the British
Government in India might be avoided. These mistakes have resulted in
educating a crowd of native “_babus_,” who are both unwilling and unfit
for most kinds of serviceable employment in the real interests of their
own nation’s development. As to this last matter, the statement may be
repeated that not a small proportion of the Koreans educated abroad or in
the missionary schools, with an almost purely literary education, have
turned out either useless, or positively mischievous, when the practical
reform and redemption of their own country is to be undertaken and
enforced. For if there is any one thing which the average educated Korean
Yang-ban will _not_ do, that thing is hard and steady useful work.
None of these measures—it was soon made obvious—were to be overlooked
or neglected in the large and generous plans of the Resident-General
for the reform and uplift of Korea. _Time_, however, was needed for
them all; they all required a supply of helpers, to train which _time_
was required. And who that knows the lives of the great benefactors of
mankind, or is versed in the most significant facts and obvious truths
of history, does not recognize the evil clamor of the press, of the
politicians, and of the crowd, to have that done all at once which cannot
possibly be done without the help of _time_. The whole explanation of
the delay is best summed-up in the pregnant sentence already quoted from
one of Marquis Ito’s public addresses, which was evidently designed as
a declaration of settled policy on his part. “As you know very well,”
said he, “Korea can hardly be called an organized state in the modern
sense; I am trying to make it such,” But as he explained to me more in
detail: “I have been at work on these difficult problems only one short
year, interrupted by visits to Japan, because my own Emperor required my
presence; and the first half of this year was almost entirely occupied
with such physical improvements as various engineering schemes, provision
for hospitals, roads, and similar matters. There has never been any such
thing as Korean law, under which justice can be administered impartially.
But, according to the constitution of Japan, no Japanese subject of His
Imperial Majesty, as well as no other foreigners resident in Korea, can
be deprived of property, or of liberty, otherwise than by due process
of law. Nor is my relation to the administration of justice in Korea
like that of the British magistrate in British India. With Korean
affairs, purely internal, when the attempt is made to settle them in
Korean fashion, I have no right, under the treaty, to interfere. And the
Koreans, when they could resort to _legal_ measures for settling their
disputes, ordinarily will not do so; they prefer to resort to the ancient
illegal practice of running to some Korean Court official and bribing him
to use influence on their side. As for Korean judges who can be trusted
to do justice, there is scarcely any raw material even for such judges to
be found. A carefully selected number of jurists, with a large force of
clerks, has, however, been brought from Japan; and they are diligently
at work trying to devise a written code under which the ancient customs
and common laws of Korea, as representing its best efforts to enact and
establish justice, shall be made available for future use.”
Meantime, as we have already seen, the Resident-General was being opposed
and, as far as possible, thwarted, in every effort to improve the civil
service and judicial administration of Korea, by the corrupt Korean
Court, with its mob of eunuchs, palace women, sorceresses, etc., and by
nearly all the native officials and Yang-bans in places of influence and
power. _And the chief seat of corruption and of opposition to genuine,
effective reform was the smiling and amiable Korean Emperor himself._
How effectively, because wisely and firmly, Marquis Ito initiated and
advanced these reform measures will receive its proof, so far as proof
is at present possible, by examination of results recorded in official
and other trustworthy reports. To the facts already narrated, on which my
personal impression of these qualities was based, many others of even a
more convincing character might easily be added.
Of the feelings of admiration and friendship which grew during these
weeks of somewhat confidential relations, on the part of the guest toward
his host, it would not be fitting to speak with any detail. But in
closing the more exclusively personal part of my narrative I might quote
the words of one of the Consuls-General residing in Seoul. This diplomat
expressed his feeling toward the Marquis Ito as one of veneration, beyond
that which he had ever felt for any but a very few of the men whom he had
met in his official career.
After all, however, personal impressions, no matter how favorable to
truth the conditions under which they are derived, are not of themselves
satisfactory in answer to questions so grave and so complicated as
those which encompass the existing relations between Japan and Korea.
Such impressions must be subjected to the severer tests, the more
comprehensive considerations, the profounder sanctions, of history and of
statistics. For this reason I now pass on to the much more difficult task
of reviewing in the light of these tests, considerations, and sanctions,
the impressions of my visit to Korea in 1907, as the guest of Marquis
Ito.
_PART II_
A CRITICAL AND HISTORICAL INQUIRY
CHAPTER IX
THE PROBLEM: HISTORICAL
An authentic and trustworthy history of Korea has never been written; and
enormous difficulties await the investigator who, in the future, attempts
this task. The native records, almost down to the present time, consist
of the same uncritical mixture of legend, fable, oral tradition, and
unverified written narrative which characterizes the earliest so-called
histories of all civilized peoples. But the Korean civilization has
not as yet produced any writer both ambitious and able to treat this
material in a way corresponding to the opportunity it affords. All the
narratives of events, except those of the most recent date, which have
been written by foreigners, have, of necessity, been lacking in that
intimate acquaintance with the Korean language, institutions, customs,
and the temperament and spirit of the people, which is the indispensable
equipment of the historian. The antiquities and other physical records of
an historical character have, moreover, never to any considerable extent
been explored. A striking example of this general truth was afforded
only a short time ago when Dr. George Heber Jones discovered the fact
that a wrong date (by a whole century) had been given for the casting of
the Great Bell at Chong-no—one of the most conspicuous public objects
of interest in Seoul; yet the correct date was inscribed on the bell
itself! The reason for this petty falsifying of historical fact was
characteristically Korean; it was in order that the honor of casting the
bell might be ascribed to the Founder of the present Dynasty.
In spite of these facts, however, the main outlines of the development
of Korea are unmistakable. Its history has been, for the ruling classes,
one long, monotonous, almost unbroken record of misrule and misfortune;
and for the people an experience of poverty, oppression, and the
shedding of blood. That they have endured at all as the semblance of
a nation, although not “as an organized state in the modern sense,”
has been due chiefly to these two causes: first, to a certain native
quality of passive resistance, varied by periods of frenzied uprising
against both native and foreign oppressors; and, second, to the fact
that the difficulties encountered in getting over mountains and sea, in
order to maintain a foreign rule long enough to accomplish these ends,
have prevented their stronger neighbors on all sides from thoroughly
subjugating and absorbing them. This latter reason may be stated in
another way: it has hitherto never been worth the cost to terminate the
independent existence of the Korean nation.
Nor is it difficult to learn from authentic sources the two most potent
reasons for the unfortunate and evil state throughout their history of
the Korean people. These reasons are, on the one hand, the physical
results of repeated invasions from the outside; and, on the other hand,
the adoption and perpetuation, in a yet more mischievous and degraded
fashion, of the civil and official corruptions received from Korea’s
ancient suzerain, China. It is customary to attach great importance, both
as respects the damage done to the material interests of the country,
and also as accounting for the Korean hatred of the Japanese, to the
invasion of Hideyoshi. But the undoubted facts do not bear out this
contention. The lasting effects of this incoming of foreign armed forces
from the south, and of their short-lived and partial occupation of Korean
territory, were relatively unimportant. None of the institutions of Korea
were changed; none of her physical resources were largely depleted. It
was just those places in which the Japanese remained in the most intimate
relations with the Koreans, where there was least permanent development
of race hatred. But the results of the successive invasions from the
north and northwest, by the wild tribes, by the Mongols, and by the
Chinese and Manchu dynasties, were much more injurious in every way to
the physical well-being of the peninsula.
It is one of the most remarkable contrasts between Japan and Korea that,
whereas the more distinctly moral elements of Confucianism moulded a
noble and knightly type of character in the former country, in its
neighbor the doctrines of the great Oriental teacher chiefly resulted
in forming the average official into a more self-conceited but really
corrupt and mischievous personality. Indeed, the baleful influence of
China, especially since the establishment of the Manchu dynasty, has
been the principal hindrance to the industrial and civic development of
Korea. The contribution made to its civilization by Chinese letters,
inventions, and arts, has been no adequate compensation for the
depressing and debasing character of the imported political and social
system. The official institutions and practices of the suzerain have for
centuries been bad enough at home; but here they have been even worse,
whether admiringly copied or enforced by the influence of its Court and
the power of its army. And, whereas the great multitude of the Chinese
people have displayed for a long time the inherent power of industrial
self-development and of successful business intercourse with foreigners,
the Koreans have thus far been relatively lacking in the qualities
essential for every kind of material and governmental success. Thus
all the civilization of Korea has been so characterized by weakness and
corruption as to excite contempt as well as disapprobation from the
moralist’s and the economist’s points of view. It is China and not Japan
which through some 2,000 years of past history has been the expensive and
bloody enemy, and the political seducer and corrupter of Korea.
The division of the history of Korea, made by Mr. Homer B. Hulbert, into
ancient and modern—the latter period beginning in 1392, with the founding
of the present dynasty—is entirely without warrant. “Modern history”
can scarcely be said to have begun in the so-called “Hermit Kingdom”
previous to the time when a treaty was concluded between Japan and Korea
by General Kuroda, acting as Plenipotentiary, on February 26, 1876. Even
then, the first Korean Embassy under the new _régime_, having arrived at
Yokohama by a Japanese steamer on the following May 29th, when it started
back to Korea a month later, refused all overtures of Western foreigners
to communicate with their country. From the time when the present kingdom
arose by the union of the three previously existing kingdoms, the doings
of the Korean Court and of the Korean people have been substantially the
same. When threatened by foreign invaders or by popular uprisings and
official rebellion at home, the Court—a motley crowd or mob, of King,
palace officials, eunuchs, concubines, blind men, sorceresses, and other
similar retainers of the palace—has, as a rule, precipitately fled to
some place of refuge, deserted by efficient military escort and in most
miserable plight. Only when behind walls and compelled to fight, or when
aroused to a blind fury in the form of a mob, does the average Korean
show the courage necessary to defend or to avenge his monarch. The saying
of the Japanese that “the Koreans are kittens in the field and tigers
in the fortress” characterized their behavior during the Hideyoshi
invasion; it is characteristic of them to-day. Three centuries ago,
when the king was in flight from Seoul to Pyeng-yang his own attendants
stole his food and left him hungry; and the Korean populace, left behind
in Seoul rose at once and burned and looted what the Court had not
carried away. “Before many days had elapsed the people found out that
the coming of the Japanese did not mean universal slaughter, as they had
supposed, and gradually they returned to their lands in the city. They
reopened their shops, and as long as they attended to their own affairs
they were unmolested by the Japanese. Indeed, they adapted themselves
readily to the new order of things, and drove a lucrative trade with the
invaders”![5] In these respects, too, the voice of Korean history is a
witness with a monotone; as it was in 1592 and earlier, so it has been
down to the present time.
In one other most important respect there has been little variation
in the records of Korean history. Brave, loyal, and good men, when
they have arisen to serve their monarch and their country, have never
been permitted to flourish on Korean soil. The braver, more loyal and
unselfish they have been, the more difficult has the path to the success
of their endeavors been made by a corrupt Court and an ignorant and
ungrateful populace. Almost without exception such men—rare enough at the
best in Korean history—have been traduced by their enemies and deserted
and degraded by their king. Curing the Hideyoshi invasion the most
worthy leader of the Korean forces by land was General Kim Tuk-nyung.
It is said that the Christian Japanese General Konishi had so high an
opinion of General Kim that he had a portrait of him made, and on seeing
it exclaimed: “This man is indeed a general.” But, on account of Kim’s
success, his enemies maligned him; the king had him arrested, brought
to Seoul, and, after a disgraceful trial, executed. In all Korea’s
history there has never been another man to whom the nation has owed
so much for his courage, devotion, and genius in affairs of war as to
Admiral Yi. It was he, more than all others—king, officers, and common
soldiers—who accomplished the final ill-success of the Japanese invasion.
It was Admiral Yi who destroyed all chance of re-enforcing the Japanese
army in Seoul, and who thus actually did what the Russian fleet in the
recent war could not begin to do. But this great patriot and successful
leader, under the same baleful influences, was degraded to the rank of a
common soldier and barely escaped with his life. Quite uniformly such has
been the fate of the true patriots and best leaders during all Korea’s
history, and this just because they were true and of the best. Such would
to-day be the fate of the saving elements left in Korean official circles
if the hand of Japan were withdrawn. Indeed, as we have already seen, the
most difficult part of the Resident-General’s problem is to cultivate
and to protect Korean leaders of a trustworthy character. It is Korea’s
national characteristic to “stone her prophets”; but few of them have had
“whited sepulchres” built to them by future generations.
The more ancient relations of Japan and Korea were such as are common
to people who inhabit contiguous lands at the corresponding stage of
civilization. “As to the relations between the two nations,” says
Brinkley,[6] “they were limited for a long time to mutual raids.” On the
one side, the Japanese could complain that, in the first century B.C.,
when a pestilence had reduced their forces, Korean freebooters invaded
Kiushiu and settled themselves in the desolated hamlets of the Japanese;
that the Koreans lent assistance to the semi-savage aborigines of the
same island and to the Mongol invaders; and that their citizens who
wished to enter into friendly relations of commerce with the neighboring
peninsula were treated with scorn and even with violence. On the other
side, there was valid ground for the charge that Japanese pirates, either
alone or in conjunction with Chinese, often invaded the coasts of Korea;
and that Japanese traders by no means always conducted themselves in a
manner to win the confidence and friendship of the inhabitants of the
peninsula.
[Illustration: Peony Point at Pyeng-Yang.]
The earlier trade relations between Japan and Korea were irregular and by
no means always satisfactory to either party. The wardens of the island
of Tsushima, which is by its very position a sort of natural mediating
territory between the two countries—the So family—had virtual control of
the legitimate commerce. They issued permits for fifty ships which passed
annually from ports in Japan to the three Japanese settlements in the
peninsula. These Japanese traders and the Korean officials behaved toward
each other in so objectionable fashion that a revolt of the settlers in
Fusan arose in 1610, in the effort to suppress which the Koreans were at
first defeated; but afterward, being re-enforced strongly from Seoul,
they compelled the settlers to retire from all the three settlements;
and thus for the time being the trade between Japan and Korea came to an
end. When, later, the Shogunate Government complied with the demand of
the Korean Government that the ringleaders of this disturbance should be
decapitated and their heads sent to Seoul, the trade was re-established.
But it did not attain its previous proportions; it was limited to
twenty-five vessels annually, and the settlements were abandoned. Similar
troubles recurred some thirty years later. The Shogun of that period,
too, caused the offenders to be arrested and handed over to the Korean
authorities; but the Court at Seoul continued its refusal to allow the
commerce with the Japanese to be expanded.
The amount of contribution made by Korea to the civilization of Japan in
those earlier days has probably been somewhat exaggerated. Both these
countries are chiefly indebted to China for the elements of the arts
and of letters, and for most of the other refinements of their culture;
these came to Japan, however, to a considerable extent _through_ Korea.
According to the records of the Japanese themselves, in the century
before the Christian era Chinese scholars came to Satsuma through Korea,
Tsushima, and the intervening islands. At about the same time Koreans
also brought Chinese civilization to Japan.[7] During the reign of
the Emperor Kimmei (555 A.D.), according to Japanese tradition, the
king of Kudara in Korea sent to Japan an envoy bearing an image of
Buddha and a copy of the Sutras. But while the Minister-President was
experimenting with its worship, the occurrence of a pestilence proved
that the ancestral deities were angry at the intrusion of a foreign form
of worship.[8] After the “subjugation of the three kingdoms of Korea a
number of Chinese and Koreans came to settle in Japan. In order to avert
confusion in family names and titles which might have arisen from this
cause, an investigation of family names was made in the 1430th year after
the Emperor Jimmu (about A.D. 770).” It will thus be seen that there are
probably in both countries families which have in their veins the mingled
blood of both races.
Relations tending to exasperate the feeling of each country against the
other continued through the centuries which constituted the Middle Ages
in Europe. In Japan the feudal system was approaching its more elaborate
and powerful development; in Korea the weakness and corruption of the
Court, the ignorance, suffering from oppression, and lawlessness of the
people were not improving. Thus the two nations were drawing further
and further apart and were following the paths which have led to such a
wide divergence in the now existing conditions—mentally, politically,
and socially. The various embassies sent by Kublai Khan to Japan during
the years of 1268-1274 A.D. came _via_ Korea and were accompanied by
Korean officials. The attempted Mongol invasions of Japan were assisted
by Korea. On the other hand, the peninsula continued to suffer from the
attacks of Japanese pirates. The inhabitants of the Southwest coasts of
Japan made raids upon the opposite coasts, engaging in open conflict with
the Korean troops, killing their generals, destroying their barracks,
and carrying away as plunder, horses, ships, and stores of grain. In
these encounters the soldiers of Korea showed their traditional lack of
courage in the field, frequently retreating before the Japanese raiders
without striking a single blow. Frequent envoys were sent from Korea
to remonstrate and demand reparation; and one of these took back with
him (1377 A.D.) several hundred Koreans who had been made prisoners by
the Japanese pirates, but were returned to their own country by Imagawa
Sadayo, Governor of Kiushiu. No really effective measures to stop piracy
were, however, taken by the Japanese Government until the time of the
ex-Shogun Yoshimitsu, who on several occasions had the pirates arrested
and handed over to China, the suzerain of Korea. For later on the
Japanese pirates associated themselves with Chinese pirates and pursued
their business of plunder quite impartially as against either Koreans
or Chinese. When the Koreans took reprisals upon those inhabitants of
Tsushima who were residing in the southern part of their land, the people
of that island made an attack upon Fusan and destroyed its fortifications
(1510 A.D.).
The first notable conflict between Korea and Japan was the invasion
of Hideyoshi. Various motives have been assigned for this war-like
expedition; the real motives were probably complex. Hideyoshi was
undoubtedly angry at Korea for her refusal to open the country to trade
with Japan. He was willing to take his revenge for the assistance that
had been given to the Yuan dynasty of Mongols in their attacks upon
Japan.[9] But he was especially desirous to get at China through Korea,
and to use the latter country as a base for his attack. He began (1587
A.D.) by sending a despatch to the warden of Tsushima directing him
to invite the King of Korea to an audience with the Emperor of Japan;
and he accompanied the invitation with a threat of invasion unless the
invitation were accepted. Next, having quite thoroughly “pacified” (in
Cæsar’s fashion) his own country, he sent a demand for presents—plainly
of a tributary character—with the same threat accompanying. This time an
envoy from his own person assured the Koreans that unless they complied
they would be compelled to march in the van of the Japanese army for the
invasion of China. Hideyoshi, when this insolent demand failed of its
purpose, first worshipped at the tomb of the Empress Jingo—the reputed
conqueror of Korea in most ancient times. In April, 1592, the Japanese
invading force, which consisted according to the Japanese records of
130,000 in eight army corps, sailed in a fleet manned by 9,000 sailors
with the Generals Konishi Yukinaga and Katō Kiyomasa leading the van.
They were to carry out the threat of the Taiko for the punishment and
subjugation of Korea. According to the statement of the authority we
are following,[10] Hideyoshi expected to conquer China in two years and
contemplated transferring the capital of Japan to that country. “He even
went so far as to determine the routine to be followed in the removal
of the Japanese Court to China.” How characteristic is this detailed
planning, without sufficient regard for the exigencies of time, the
enormous intervening obstacles, and the possible adverse will of heaven,
of the national temperament even down to the present time!
It is not necessary to our purpose to follow the early brilliant
successes and the disastrous ending of the invasion of Korea by
Hideyoshi. Both nations displayed their characteristic virtues and
faults during this period of intercourse by way of conflict—the knightly
courage and arrogant overconfidence of the Japanese, the passive power of
resistance and the weakness and political corruption of the Koreans. But
as to the invasion itself our sympathies must remain with Korea; it was
without sufficient warrant, conducted incautiously, and more disastrous
in its result to the invaders themselves than to the country which they
had, for the time being, desolated. By the courage and skill of Admiral
Yi and by the assistance of China, the forces of Japan were finally,
after a period of seven years, so reduced that Hideyoshi, at the point of
death, recalled them; and the war came to an end in 1598. The terms of
peace agreed to were on the whole humiliating to the Japanese.
The great Iyeyasu, the founder of the Tokugawa Dynasty, took measures,
repeatedly and patiently, to renew those relations of a promising
friendly character which had been dissolved in hatred by the invasion of
Hideyoshi. He sent repeated embassies to Korea, restored prisoners that
had been led captive at the time of the Taiko’s invasion, and spared no
pains to make the Koreans understand that a decided change of policy had
taken place in the Japanese Government toward their country. _From his
time onward, the official treatment given to Korea by Japan has been
conspicuous, as compared with the example furnished by other civilized
countries under similar trying conditions, for its fairness and its
friendliness._ This fact becomes amusingly obvious when we compare the
way in which the claims for tribute from Korea have been made by the two
countries, China and Japan. Under the Tokugawas the nominal sovereigns
paid the bills; but the Korean tribute-bearers (_sic_) had a largely
free junketing expedition of three months’ duration at the expense of
the Japanese. Under the Manchu Dynasty, however, the tribute fixed for
annual payment took a very substantial shape; it included 100 ounces
of gold, 1,000 ounces of silver, 10,000 bags of rice, 2,000 pieces of
silk, 10,000 pieces of cotton cloth, 10,000 rolls (50 sheets each) of
large-sized paper, and other less important items. Even then, it can
be seen, the Chinese greatly excelled the Japanese in their business
ability. Moreover, when the Koreans pleaded that the payment of tribute
to China had so impoverished them that they could not render what was due
to Japan, the Japanese forgave them the obligation (A.D. 1638).[11] Nor
was this the last time in which the forgiveness of debts was exercised
toward the Korean Government in a manner unaccustomed between nations of
conflicting interests.
Finally the Koreans, having obtained the consent of China, sent to Japan
a letter from their king, together with some presents; and from this time
onward, on the occasion of each change of Shogun, Korean envoys came to
the country to offer congratulations. The Tokugawas, on their side, were
careful to “treat these delegates with all courtesy and consideration”;
they also discontinued the offensive custom which the Ashikaga family had
followed, of assuming for the Shogun the title of “King of Korea.”[12]
Meantime, the So family improved the opportunity which their position as
intermediaries between Japan and Korea afforded to renew and increase
the trade relations of the two countries. It is probable that lasting
friendly intercourse would have been established from this time onward
if it had not been, at this period, as all through Korea’s unfortunate
history, for the baleful influence of China. This fact becomes prominent
in all the foreign relations of Korea during the half century following
the early attempts to open the Hermit Kingdom to intercourse with other
nations. The French and American expeditions for this purpose were
productive only of the result that the Koreans became more obstinate in
their resistance to outside influences, and more secure in their pride
and confidence in their ability to resist successfully through their
superior craft and courage in war. These expeditions illustrate, however,
the policy of China in maintaining its claims of suzerainty over Korea.
To take, for example, the experience of the United States in dealing with
this policy, it may be summarized in somewhat the following way:
The destruction of the American schooner _General Sherman_, in 1866,
was the occasion of some desultory correspondence between the American
and the Chinese Governments. The former presented the matter at Peking
because China was supposed to sustain some sort of relationship of
suzerainty, not clearly understood, toward Korea. China, however, would
not admit the existence of any kind of bond which made her responsible
for Korean acts; the Tsungli Yamen said, in effect, that there had
existed from ancient times a certain dependency by Korea upon China; but
they denied in express words that it was of such a nature as to give
China any right to control or to interfere with the administration of
Korean foreign or domestic affairs.
It was precisely this attitude which was the _fons et origo_ of the
subsequent trouble between China and Japan. From the Chinese standpoint,
as shown by official declarations and acts, Korea was and was not a
vassal state. She was so when it suited China actively to interfere, and
not so when it was either difficult or dangerous, or even troublesome, to
assume the responsibilities of suzerainty. China was not even willing to
act the part of intermediary if by doing so she could be held to accept
the _onus_ of making or compelling the reparation which America demanded.
Finally the United States Government took matters in its own hands and
the expedition under Admiral John Rodgers was sent to Korea in 1871. The
failure of that expedition to accomplish anything beyond the destruction
of the fort on Kang-wha Island, and Commodore Shufeldt’s subsequent
attempt to open up communication with the Korean Government, were the
total of American efforts regarding Korea up to the time when the
Shufeldt treaty was negotiated.
After the fall of the Tokugawa Government the Korean Court desisted from
the custom of sending an embassy to Japan to congratulate the succession
to the place of supreme rule; it even declared its determination to
have no further relations with a country which had embraced the Western
civilization. When the Government of the Restoration sent an envoy to
Korea to announce the change and to “confirm friendly relations between
the two states,” the Korean Court refused to recognize the envoy or to
receive his message. The real reason for this affront was the influence
of China; the ostensible reason referred to the fact that the term “Great
Empire of Japan” was employed in the Imperial letter. As says Brinkley:
“Naturally such conduct roused deep umbrage in Japan. It constituted a
verdict that, whereas the Old Japan had been entitled to the respect and
homage of neighboring Powers, the New might be treated with contumely.”
Thus, just when the affairs of the newly centralized Government were
assuming that condition of strength and harmony so imperatively demanded
for the present welfare and future prospects of Japan, dissension arose
among the Ministers of the Crown with regard to the policy to be pursued
toward Korea. Bitterness of feeling had already been excited by the fact
that when Japan returned to their country some shipwrecked Koreans, and
accompanied this humane act with other friendly advances, the advances
were repulsed and the Court of Korea declined even to receive the envoy.
And now, among the leaders of Japan, Saigo, Soyeshima, Itagaki, Goto,
and Eto, insisted on war for the purpose of avenging the insult; Okubo,
Iwakura, and Ito advocated peaceful means. Indeed, the so-called “Saga
Party” was confederated with these two purposes chiefly in view: (1)
the restoration of feudalism, and (2) the making of a punitive war upon
Korea. The peace party triumphed; the Satsuma rebellion followed; and
Japan made its first great contribution of treasure and blood toward
the maintenance of friendly relations with a Korea that, nominally
independent so far as its own selfish duplicity chose to consider it
so, was virtually subservient to all manner of foreign intrigue and
unscrupulous control.
This situation and the subsequent events, however, require a more
detailed consideration. According to Brinkley, the great Saigo Takamori,
who was a member of the Cabinet at this time, and who had been Chief
of the Army and one of the most powerful agents in bringing about the
Restoration, “saw in a foreign war the sole remaining chance of achieving
his ambition by lawful means. The Government’s conscription scheme, yet
in its infancy, had not produced even the skeleton of an army. If Korea
had to be conquered, the _samurai_ must be employed, and their employment
would mean, if not their rehabilitation, at least their organization
into a force which, under Saigo’s leadership, might dictate a new
polity. Other members of the Cabinet believed that the nation would be
disgraced if it tamely endured Korea’s insults. Thus several influential
voices swelled the clamor for war. But a peace party offered strenuous
opposition. Its members perceived the collateral issues of the problem,
and declared that the country must not think of taking up arms during a
period of radical transition.”[13]
The part of China at this time, as ever, in encouraging difficult and
threatening relations between Japan and Korea cannot be overlooked. In
the events of 1866 the Chinese did not maintain neutrality as between
the forces of the Shogunate and of the Imperial party, but secretly sold
arms to the former. They also engaged in the trade of kidnapping and
selling the children of indigent Japanese.[14] When, after the treaty of
1871 was concluded (namely, in 1872), the natives of Formosa murdered
some shipwrecked Loochoo islanders, the Peking Government declined to
acknowledge any responsibility for the conduct of the natives of Formosa.
And it was only through the offices of the British Minister that the
Chinese, after procrastinating and vacillating, agreed to pay 100,000
_taels_ to the families of the murdered, and 400,000 _taels_ toward the
cost of a punitive expedition which had been despatched against the
Formosans.
In 1875 another envoy was sent to Korea, but he returned with the
customary result; and in August of the same year a man-of-war _en route_
to China, which had put into the harbor of Chemulpo for fuel and water,
was fired upon by the Koreans. Whereupon the crew attacked and burned
the Korean fortress. And now the same question recurred in a still
more exasperating form: What shall Japan do with Korea, for whose bad
conduct China, while claiming rights of suzerainty in all her foreign
relations and actually exercising a determining influence over her
internal affairs, nevertheless declines to be responsible; and who will
not of herself regard any of those regulations, or common decencies of
international intercourse, which modern civilization has established as
binding upon all countries?
The considerations which prevailed on former occasions still held good
when Korea offered this new affront. The peace party, of which Marquis
Ito and Count Inouye were prominent members—the former being also a
member of the Cabinet—thought that it was Japan’s first duty to devote
all her energies to the task of domestic improvement, while cultivating
friendly relations with her neighbors. The problem which confronted the
advocates of peace was not an easy one. Saigo was in retirement in his
native province, surrounded by his devoted supporters, and it was easily
to be seen that he would take umbrage if this new insult was allowed to
pass unavenged, and would possibly make it the pretext for something more
serious than mere remonstrance. The decision in favor of peace instead
of war required a high order of courage. The state of public feeling
on the subject and the powerful opposition on which the Government had
to count was well illustrated by a petition presented nearly a year
later by the Tosa Association, over the signature of Kataoka Kenkichi,
afterward speaker of the Lower House of the Diet. Animadverting upon the
Government’s action, the petition said:
Our people knew that Korea is a country with which Japan
has had intercourse since the most ancient times. Suddenly
the intercourse was broken off, and when we sent an envoy
thither he was befooled and all his proposals were rejected.
Not only were the Koreans insulting, but they threatened
hostile resistance. It was proposed to send a second envoy to
remonstrate (?) against the treatment of the former one, but
the government suddenly changed its views and nothing further
was done. The people when they learned this became enraged, and
their feelings found vent in the rebellion of the samurai of
Saga.
This petition no doubt accurately reflects the state of public feeling at
the time to which it refers. The Government did not, however, yield to
the popular clamor for war, and this was due in no small measure to the
efforts of Marquis Ito. He counselled patience and advised his colleagues
from the outset that advantage should be taken of the opportunity to
place the relations of Japan and Korea upon a new basis by means of a
treaty of peace and friendship. These moderate counsels prevailed and the
Cabinet decided with the Imperial sanction to make the treaty, although
two of its members, Shimadzu Saburo and Itagaki subsequently resigned.
Marquis Ito fully appreciated the obstacles which the alleged suzerainty
of China opposed to the establishment of satisfactory treaty relations
between Japan and Korea. Accordingly he devoted himself, with the
assistance of M. Boissonade, the distinguished French publicist, and of
Mr. Inouye, the well-known Japanese authority, to a careful study of this
question. The decision reached was that the bond uniting China and Korea
was not, either historically or according to the rules of international
law, that of suzerain and vassal state. It therefore logically followed
that Korea must be approached directly and dealt with as an independent
Power. The importance of this decision cannot be overestimated. It was
the first formal recognition of Korean national independence. More than
that, it was the declaration on the part of Japan of a policy having in
view the political, commercial and economical progress of her neighbor.
By the treaty of 1876 Japan abandoned all of her own ancient claims to
suzerainty and did what she could to place Korea upon the high road to
prosperous national development which she herself was travelling. No
friend of Japan will claim that it was an entirely altruistic policy.
Her action was dictated as much by motives of intelligent self-interest
as by consideration for Korea. The fate of the peninsular kingdom was
of vital importance to Japan. As an appanage of China its condition
was hazardous. China had from ancient times claimed suzerainty over
all surrounding nations, but those claims had never proved a safeguard
nor prevented the subjugation or absorption of these so-called vassal
states by other Powers. In fact, they were an element of weakness in
quarrels where China herself was principal; for it might easily happen
that the vassal would be exposed to attack, in case China herself could
not easily be reached. This was especially the truth as regarded Korea,
concerning whom China had given direct proof that while prepared to claim
all the prerogatives of suzerainty when it implied no risk to herself,
she was only too likely, when a strong Power threatened, to shirk all
responsibility and abandon Korea to her fate. To treat with Korea as
an independent nation and thus to set an example which would in all
likelihood be followed by other Powers, seemed the best way of avoiding
such a catastrophe. At the same time there was good reason to hope, even
confidently to expect, that Korea, drawn into intimate intercourse with
the world, would be freed from the trammels which prevented progress,
and would gradually attain a condition where foreign aggression would be
impossible.
Count Kuroda and Count Inouye were appointed First and Second Envoys,
respectively, for the negotiation of the treaty. The representatives of
the Treaty Powers were frankly informed of the objects of the mission.
Before he left, Count Inouye called upon Mr. Bingham, the American
Minister, who cordially sympathized with the Government’s intentions,
and borrowed Bayard Taylor’s abridged history of Commodore Perry’s
expedition. The Count said he feared that the Koreans might show signs
of obduracy, in which case it would become necessary for his colleague
and himself to have recourse to some of the measures which Commodore
Perry found so efficacious. Inouye wished to have the book so that he
could refresh his memory and be better perfected in the part if it became
necessary to play it.[15]
As before intimated, the Japanese Government was anxious that the Treaty
of 1876 should be followed by like Treaties between Korea and other
Powers. It cordially tendered its good offices when Commodore Shufeldt
visited Japan previous to the negotiation of the treaty concluded by
him, and on subsequent occasions did what was possible to facilitate the
conclusion of other treaties with Korea. Its policy in that regard was
illustrated in an interesting way by the statement of Count Inouye, then
Minister for Foreign Affairs, to Mr. Bingham in 1882, with reference
to the appointment of General Foote, the first American Minister to
Korea. He said to Mr. Bingham, as the latter reported to Secretary
Frelinghuysen, that the action of the American Government “in ratifying
so promptly its treaty with Korea and accrediting a minister to that
kingdom gave great satisfaction to His Imperial Japanese Majesty’s
Government, and was accepted as another evidence of the policy of justice
so often manifested by the United States toward the states of Asia.” He
also said that it was considered an act of friendship toward Japan as
well as Korea.
In considering all the subsequent relations of Japan and Korea two things
should be kept distinctly in view as determining questions of justice and
injustice, of wisdom or unwisdom, in the policy of both countries. In the
first place: In order to conclude “a treaty of commerce and amity which
recognized the independence of Korea,” Japan rather than engage in a
punitive war, had encountered in its own territory a rebellion which cost
the Government of the Restoration no less than 60,000 men and 416,000,000
_yen_. And second, in allowing this treaty to go through in the form
which it actually took, China had been convicted of the duplicity and
wholly untenable character of its claims to exercise the rights of
suzerainty over Korea. On the latter point Minister Rockhill[16] affirms
that the conclusion in 1876 of the treaty of Kang-wha between Japan and
Korea “marks the beginning of a new era in the history of the latter
country, its entry into the family of nations.” “Prior to the Kang-wha
treaty,” this authority goes on to say: “The nature of Korea’s relation
to China was a puzzle to Western nations. They were told, at one and the
same time, that Korea, though a vassal and tributary state of China, was
entirely independent so far as her government, religion, and intercourse
with foreign states were concerned—a condition of things hardly
compatible with our ideas of either absolute dependence or complete
independence.”
“In 1871 the Chinese Foreign Office wrote the United States Minister
in Peking, Mr. Frederick F. Low, who had informed it of his recent
appointment by his Government as special envoy to Korea, and was about
proceeding there, that: ‘Korea is regarded as a country subordinate
to China, yet is wholly independent in everything that relates to her
government, her religion, her prohibitions, and her laws; in none of
these things has China hitherto interfered.’”[17] But the first Article
of the treaty signed in 1876 with Japan reads as follows: “Chosen, being
an independent state, enjoys the same sovereign rights as does Japan”;
and in 1882 the King of Korea wrote to the President of the United
States, when the two countries were about to enter into treaty relations,
pledging his Government that the terms of the treaty should be “carried
into effect according to the laws of independent states.”
It was this not merely theoretical suzerainty, but a pernicious practice
of interference and dictation on the part of China over Korea, joined to
the utterly corrupt and weak government of the latter country, which led
inevitably to the war between the former and Japan. Similar claims of the
Government of Peking, under existing political and social conditions,
over the weaker states which were alleged to be dependencies of this
Government, the civilized nations of the world have repeatedly found
themselves compelled to disregard; and this, in the interests of the
dependent people themselves.
The mental attitude and practical treatment which the Korean Court and
Yang-ban class in general have accorded to the treaties with Japan and
other foreign nations have been essentially unchanged from the beginning.
All depends upon the apparent immediate effect of foreign intercourse
on their ancient rights and privileges of office-bearing and official
“squeezing.” The Mins, the family of the late Queen, have always been
notoriously corrupt; and, if the Queen herself was ever sincerely opposed
to the anti-foreign policy, it is likely that the opposition had its
source in the selfish interests of her own family and in her hatred of
the King’s father, the Tai Won Kun. The latter was always consistently
and energetically opposed to all foreign intercourse.
The condition of affairs in Korea preceding the troubles of 1882 and
1884 is graphically and truthfully described by the report of Ensign
George C. Foulk, of the United States Navy, in which he submitted to
his Government information relative to the revolutionary attempt of the
latter date. With regard to the Government of Korea, Ensign Foulk says
that “it has been for an indefinite period under the practical control
of the Min Family, of which the Queen of Korea is at present the highest
representative. The blood of this family is largely Chinese, and it has
been always, and remains, the desire and aim of this family to subject,
and retain in subjection, their country to the suzerainty of China.
Members of this family are accorded special privileges by China, and are,
to the exclusion of other Korean noble families, on comparatively social
terms with the Court of China, which they visit frequently. The family is
very large, and includes the highest number of great nobles, with the
greatest landed estates, of all the families of the nobility in Korea....
The great body of Korean people know little or nothing of the politics
of their Government, nor do they dare to use any information they may by
chance possess on Government affairs.”
Ensign Foulk then goes on to draw attention to the remarkable phenomenon
that, while the Chinese “are detested for their appearance, conduct and
customs,” nothing by way of cruelty and fraud that they may do awakens
practical resentment; but the Japanese, on the contrary, while “even
admired by Koreans of the present day for their appearance, customs,
and conduct,” are so hated that the “Koreans are always ready for the
license when they may vent this feeling in shedding Japanese blood.” With
regard to the real attitude of the Queen’s family, he further affirms:
“This energy of the Mins [namely, in conducting negotiations for a treaty
with the United States] has given them the mistaken reputation of being
members of the progressive party in Korea; in fact, they only acted in
obedience to their hereditary lord, China, without a thought patriotic to
Korea, beyond that they, in common with all Koreans at that time, felt
the danger of the seizure of a part of Korea by Russia.”
Now, however, the Tai Won Kun, the bitter enemy of the Queen, had his
turn at the wheel on which the fate of this unfortunate country was
revolving, first in one direction and then in the other. In July, 1882,
taking advantage of disaffection among the soldiers of the capital,
occasioned by short rations issued by the Mins (a “steal in army
contracts”), he directed their revolt against that family, and, having
disposed of its members, seized the Government for himself. Many Mins
were killed; Min Tai-ho (father of Min Yong-ik) was left, supposed to
be fatally wounded, in a ditch; poison was to be administered to the
Queen, but a maid, personating her in disguise, took the poison and died
while the Queen escaped. Min Yong-ik shaved his head, and, after hiding
in the mountains three days, walked to Fusan whence he escaped to Japan
in the guise of a Buddhist priest. For his disobedience to its command
and his attempt to annihilate its royal servants, the Mins, the Chinese
Government sent its troops to Korea and carried off into banishment the
Tai Won Kun; but the power of the Mins in China’s behalf having been
greatly cut down by the revolt, Chinese troops were placed in Seoul
to strengthen the remainder, and continued there after the revolt was
suppressed.
It was, then, in connection with the armed interference of China in a
domestic quarrel between the wife and the father of the Emperor,—China,
which had repeatedly disclaimed all responsibility for Korean internal
affairs and which had permitted Korea to make a foreign treaty on terms
of equality,—that the Korean Court offered again, in 1882, another
affront to Japan. This time, also, the insult was written in blood. For
through no fault or offence on their part, a number of Japanese were
killed in the course of a domestic riot, and the Japanese Minister was
obliged to flee from the capital and to put to sea in a fishing boat,
whence he was rescued by an English vessel. The provocation was greater
than that for which western nations have frequently exacted exemplary
vengeance, much greater than the offence given by the rebellious Daimyo
of Choshin, for which the Treaty Powers had held Japan herself so
strictly to account. Nevertheless, Japan made due allowance for the
irresponsibility and weakness of the Korean Government. An apology, an
indemnity of 550,000 _yen_ (50,000 being for private sufferers), and a
Convention of two articles defining treaty limits, etc. (signed August
30, 1882), were the sum of her demands. The payment of 400,000 _yen_ of
the indemnity was afterward remitted. The instructions of the Emperor of
Japan commanding this to be done contained the following declaration:
We hereby remit four hundred thousand _yen_ of the indemnity
of five hundred thousand _yen_ due from Korea, which sum we
sincerely trust will be employed to supplement the funds
already devoted to the introduction of civilization into the
country.
It is a curious coincidence that the Minister who, on the 9th of
November, 1884, transmitted this message, was obliged only a few weeks
later to flee from Seoul like his predecessor, on account of the
perpetration of outrages against Japan, even greater than those for which
the indemnity had been exacted.
This renewal of the stipulated condition of commerce and amity between
Japan and Korea, with its renewed act of forgiveness on the part of the
former toward the latter, only prepared the way for the more serious
outrages of 1884. The Chinese force which was sent to support the
anti-foreign and unprogressive policy of the Min family, proceeded to
take up permanent quarters in extensive camps within the walls of Seoul.
They erected a fort close by the palace gates and two others outside of
the city, in a situation to defend the approaches from the river Han.
A little later they increased the number of Chinese troops in Seoul to
3,000 men. In the opinion of Ensign Foulk, the confession forced from
certain Korean officials revealed the truth that these foreign soldiers
were quartered in the capital city in order to enforce a secret agreement
between China and the Mins, representing Korea, which gave to the Peking
Government rights of suzerainty such as it had never even claimed before.
Then began an increasingly bitter strife between the reactionary party,
supported by Chinese soldiers, and the reform party, the leaders of
which had been abroad (chiefly in Japan) and had returned determined to
exert themselves to bring about reforms and to introduce the benefits
of Western civilization in their native land. Japan, however, had given
the frankest and most sincere assurances that such troops as it kept
in Korea were only for the defence of its own Legation, and that it
aimed to assist Korea in all its efforts at progress. “From Japan,”
says Ensign Foulk, “came a number of qualified Japanese, who were held
in readiness to begin teaching the use of machinery, the manufacture of
paper, pottery, etc. Steps were also taken towards securing a director of
agriculture, school teachers, and several other foreigners for service
under the Korean Government. In regard to these the initiatory steps were
taken in consultation with the progressive leaders, including the King,
in which I was warmly invited to have a voice.”[18] Gradually, however,
in part through fear, in part through jealousy, and perhaps also with
some degree, in certain cases, of more intelligent and honorable reasons,
certain leading members of the progressive party fell more and more under
Chinese influences.
How insolently the foreign soldiers from China during this period treated
the Koreans may be learned from the following incident. In August, 1884,
a Korean officer of high rank was openly seized by a party of Chinese
soldiers and beaten by them in the street so severely that his life was
despaired of; this was the outcome of a quarrel between the Chinese
Commissioner and the Korean officer about the right of passage through
a gateway of the Korean officer’s house, which was next to that of the
Chinese officer. “On the contrary,” says Ensign Foulk, “the attitude of
the Japanese in Seoul had always been such as to indicate an earnest
desire to aid the party of progress, and to be on peaceable, friendly
terms with the people. The conduct of Japanese citizens toward Koreans
was commendable. As indicating great consideration on the part of the
Japanese Government toward Korea, was the restraint placed upon Japanese
merchants establishing themselves in Seoul, by the Japanese Minister, who
evidently in doing so followed the spirit of the treaties, by which the
capital was not to be thrown open to trade if the Chinese left.”
[Illustration: The Tong-Kwan Tai-Kwol Palace.]
When their factional strifes had the customary expression in revolution,
arson, and bloodshed, the Koreans, aided by the Chinese soldiers, turned
upon the Japanese. The subsequent occurrences and the way that the
Japanese Government dealt with them are narrated in the words of one who
was an eye-witness of, and an actor in, them:[19]
With subsequent occurrences I am personally familiar, having
accompanied Count Inouye, Minister for Foreign Affairs, when he
went as Special Ambassador to Korea to settle the difficulty.
This was another occasion when public excitement ran very
high in Japan. The nation was clamoring for war with China,
and the feeling of keen indignation in Army and Navy circles
was strongly marked. Following so closely upon the events of
1882 this new outrage appeared to all classes to be the last
straw. The Government, however, then under the premiership
of Marquis Ito, was determined to have recourse to the last
resort only after every means of honorable accommodation had
been exhausted. As Marquis Ito’s mission to China subsequently
showed, it was also determined to settle once and for all,
so far as that could be done, the question of China’s right
forcibly to interfere in Korean domestic brawls, which was
really the gravest feature of the occurrence.
The choice of an official of Count Inouye’s high rank showed
the importance which the government attached to the mission.
The designation of Admiral Kabayama and General Takashima,
typical representatives of the prevailing feeling in Army and
Navy circles, to accompany him, was most sagacious. It was
proof to the Army and Navy, as well as to the people at large,
that nothing would be done in the dark, and that no arrangement
would be concluded in anywise damaging to Japan’s honor or
prestige.
It must be confessed that there was good ground for indignation
in Japan. A domestic revolution had taken place in Seoul,
attended by many of the incidents common where government
is “despotism tempered by assassination.” But neither Japan
nor her agents were responsible for that. Mr. Takezoye, the
Japanese Minister, had gone to the Palace with his bodyguard,
at the King’s request, to guard the royal person. It was a
technical mistake, no doubt on the Minister’s part, for he
should not have interfered in the matter, or, at the most,
should have asked the King to come to the Legation. But there
can be no doubt that he acted in good faith. He was an amiable
scholar rather than a diplomat and had always maintained the
most cordial personal relations with the King. The latter
was never in any sense a prisoner in his hands, as was shown
conclusively by the visit of the foreign representatives.
The populace of Seoul, egged on by the conservatives, took a
different view, however, as did also the large force of Chinese
troops gathered at the Chinese Legation. The former slaughtered
all the Japanese they could reach, and the latter, some 3,000
in number, in company with several hundred Korean soldiers,
attacked the Japanese soldiers. The little Japanese force (143
in number, not 400 as Hulbert states) beat them off with heavy
loss, without themselves suffering any serious casualties. By
that time, however, the conservatives had gained the upper hand
in the palace. The King informed Mr. Takezoye that he did not
require further assistance from him, preferring to be guarded
by his own soldiers; whereupon the Minister, as in duty bound,
returned to the Legation. He found his position untenable,
however, and resolved to go to Chemulpo. There were about 200
non-combatants at the Legation to be cared for, among them
many women and children. Guarding these as best they could
the little band of soldiers started for the city gate through
streets filled with a hostile mob. It was a dangerous march; a
march which foreigners who were in Seoul at the time described
to me with admiration. Numbers of armed Koreans were gathered
to oppose it, not the least formidable being those who threw
stones and other missiles from the house tops. At one point
some Korean soldiers brought out Gatling guns, but these were
charged and disabled before any use could be made of them. The
Japanese forced their way, finally, through the West Gate, and
thence on to Chemulpo, with casualties of one killed and a
number wounded. The Legation was looted and set on fire several
hours after it was deserted, and was completely destroyed.
Mr. Takezoye was at Chemulpo when Count Inouye arrived on
the 31st of December. The Count was also met by Mr. von
Mollendorff, a high official of the Chinese Customs, detailed
for duty in Korea, who likewise acted in a diplomatic capacity.
Count Inouye informed him that he intended to go to Seoul at
once and to demand an audience at the earliest practicable
moment. Mr. von Mollendorff had various reasons to urge for
delay, but Count Inouye swept them aside, and the Embassy
proceeded to Seoul the next day; it was accompanied by about
400 soldiers, a smaller force having been left at Chemulpo.
In Seoul, where they arrived that night, the Ambassador and
suite were lodged in the yamen of the Governor of the City,
just outside the West Gate. The same night the Ambassador
presented his formal request for an immediate audience. It met
with the customary Oriental reception: His Majesty was not in
robust health; the Ambassador himself must be tired and in need
of rest after his long journey; the attention of His Majesty
was occupied with preparations for a fitting reception of His
Excellency, and so on. Mr. von Mollendorff was kept very busy
running back and forth, but finally it was made clear to the
minds of the King’s advisers that Count Inouye meant exactly
what he said, and that disagreeable things might happen if he
did not have his way.
The audience was finally appointed for January 3d. On the
morning of that day the cavalcade set forth, a military band
trained by a foreign band-master in the van; then a mounted
guard of honor; then the Ambassador, accompanied by Admiral
Kabayama and General Takashima and followed by his secretaries,
and bringing up the rear a company of infantry. As the
procession passed through the Gate and emerged into the wide
street leading to the East Gate, a curious and inspiriting
spectacle presented itself. The morning was fresh and clear;
the air crisp and invigorating, and the broad, sunny street
as far as the eye could see was one mass of gaily clad
humanity, men dressed in coats of every color, white, as is
usual, predominating. The crowds parted before the head of the
procession like waves beneath the prow of a ship; the Korean
police ran alongside plying their many-thonged whips with
indiscriminate zeal; and then, as if to add the last queer
touch to the whole proceeding, the band struck up “Dixie.”
Nor did odd happenings end here. When the procession arrived
at the triple gates of the Palace, the centre gate was closed.
Count Inouye halted the line immediately and demanded the
reason. It was explained by Mr. Mollendorff that the centre
gate was reserved for the King, and that the side gates
were used by the highest dignitaries. Count Inouye replied
that he was an Ambassador, the personal representative of
his sovereign, and that as such he could not pass through
an inferior entrance. Back went the messenger behind the
barred gate, and in a few minutes appeared again breathlessly
explaining that to their great chagrin and regret, royal
etiquette, binding upon His Majesty as upon his lowest subject,
could not be disregarded. Upon that Count Inouye blandly
retorted that he also was bound by etiquette, immutable and
unchangeable; and that if the gate was not opened within three
minutes, much to his regret he would be obliged to retrace his
steps and to report to his Imperial Master this new slight to
Japan. The gate was opened without further delay.
After that the audience passed off smoothly. Count Inouye was
careful to impress upon the King’s mind, as upon the minds of
his advisers, that while his mission was one of peace, much
depended upon the sincerity and promptitude with which Korea
met Japan’s just demands for redress and upon the guarantees
she gave against the recurrence of like causes of complaint.
The negotiations throughout were conducted in that spirit.
The Ambassador was kindly and considerate, but would tolerate
no paltering or double-dealing. He couched his demands in
firm but friendly language, made every allowance for the
embarrassing position in which the King found himself, placed
the responsibility for what had happened where it belonged,
but made it very clear all the while that neither he nor
his government would be trifled with. This was shown in a
sensational way at the first formal meeting of the Ambassador
with the Korean plenipotentiaries. The meeting had hardly
convened when suddenly a bustle was heard in the courtyard,
and, without further notice, the Chinese Consul-General
entered, suavely bowing to those present. Paying no attention
to him, Count Inouye sprang to his feet and demanded of
the Chief Korean Plenipotentiary what the intrusion meant,
and whether the Chinese official had ventured upon this
extraordinary step with his knowledge and consent. If that
were the case, he would regard it as his duty to break off the
negotiations at once, for the Japanese Government would not
tolerate for a moment any interference of that kind, and would
warmly resent Korea’s connivance with it. There was a hasty
disavowal on the Korean side, the Consul-General lamely adding
that as China and Japan and Korea were friends, and as the
matter under discussion was of interest to all three, he had
come of his own accord to participate in a friendly way in the
proceedings. He thereupon withdrew somewhat less blithely than
he had entered. Count Inouye then repeated what he had said and
gave the Korean plenipotentiaries clearly to understand that
he would not tolerate the repetition of such childish antics,
but would regard them, if again attempted, as reason for the
gravest offence. This warning had its effect; the negotiations
thereafter proceeded expeditiously and the Convention was
signed on the 9th of January. It stipulated an apology; the
payment of an indemnity of 110,000 _yen_ to the relatives of
the murdered and the merchants who had been plundered; the
punishment of the murderers of Captain Isobayashi, military
_attaché_; the furnishing of sites for legation and consulate,
materials for building the same, and 20,000 _yen_ to pay the
cost of construction; the building of barracks for Japanese
troops adjacent to the Legation; and further that the murderers
of Captain Isobayashi should be punished within twenty days
after the convention was signed.
The events of 1882 and 1884 had emphasized what the entire history of
the relations of Japan and Korea had made manifest—namely, that some
distinct understanding with China must be reached if the two neighboring
countries were ever to live together in peace. The task of establishing
such an understanding was assigned to Marquis Ito, and in the spring
of 1885 he proceeded to China as Japan’s special Ambassador. Li Hung
Chang, who was then Viceroy of Chi-li, was the Ambassador appointed by
the Peking Government. The latter appointment was the more significant
because Li was supposed to entertain a profound distrust and dislike of
the Japanese; moreover, Yuan Shi Kai, whose subsequent career has been so
important in the politics of the Far East, and who had been in command of
the Chinese soldiers at the time of their slaughter of the Japanese in
1884, was a _protégé_ of Li’s. In spite of the inherent difficulties, the
broad statesmanship and frankness of the Marquis overcame them; and the
intercourse of these two men, whose personality and policy afterward had
so much to do with the history of their respective countries, resulted
in their becoming friends. The Chinese statesman expressed regret that
he had not met Ito before, since he had now for the first time gained
a correct conception of Japan’s policy; he even went so far as to ask
the Marquis to mention the need of governmental reforms to the Dowager
Empress of China, who became angry at him, her own Viceroy, when he
ventured to refer to the matter before her.
On the 18th of April, 1885, a Convention was signed which was intended
to prevent in the future all recurrence of events similar to those of
the previous December. The important point of this Convention is that
both sides pledged themselves against armed interference in Korea except
in pressing emergencies and after mutual consultation. This agreement,
while it saved the “face” of China—a matter so imperatively important
from the Chinese point of view—was a virtual abandonment of her claim
of suzerainty; for it gave to Japan, which made no such claim, equal
interest in the internal affairs of Korea and equal right to send troops
into its territory, in case the judgment of both countries recognized
such a need. The agreement also promised good for Korea herself, since
it made the use of Chinese or Japanese soldiers in control of Korean
affairs more unlikely for trifling reasons; and, on the other hand, it
safeguarded her against other foreign armed intervention as the result of
her domestic intrigues.
The story of what followed and led up to the war with Japan is, briefly,
as follows: The stipulations of this Convention were observed by Japan
both in letter and in spirit, and by China, upon the surface at least.
For a few years neither Power sent troops to Korea; and China ceased
to flaunt the claim to suzerainty before her neighbor’s face. But she
still cherished the fiction and sought to maintain by indirection, and
by means peculiarly Chinese, what she had failed to uphold in the open.
Thus, in 1887, as stated in Moore’s _Digest of International Law_: “The
Chinese Government sought to prevent the departure of a Korean envoy
to the United States on the ground of the dependent relation of Korea
toward China. The American Minister at Peking was instructed to express
surprise and regret at this action on the part of the Chinese Government.
The envoy finally set out on his journey, but when he arrived in the
United States the Chinese Minister at Washington wrote the Department of
State to the effect that the Korean envoy would, on his arrival there,
report to the Chinese Legation, and would be presented through it to the
Department of State; after which he might apply for an opportunity to
present his credentials to the President.
“The Korean envoy, on the day after his arrival in Washington, addressed
a note to Mr. Bayard, as Secretary of State, asking for an interview to
arrange for the presentation of his credentials to the President. Such
an arrangement was duly made, and the envoy was presented without the
intervention of the Chinese Minister. ‘As the United States,’ said Mr.
Bayard, ‘have no privity with the interrelations of China and Korea, we
shall treat both as separate governments customarily represented here by
their respective and independent agents.’”
So unmistakable a declaration as this from a friendly, impartial Power
would, it might reasonably be thought, have caused China to abandon her
shadowy pretensions. It did not have that effect, however. Her agents in
Korea committed no overt act which was likely to provoke remonstrance
from the Treaty Powers; but they lost no opportunity of preserving in
the Korean mind at least the fiction of dependency upon China. Yuan
Shi Kai, for example, “Claimed, and to a large extent obtained, the
position of Chinese Resident at Seoul. His official title was ‘Director
General Resident in Korea of Diplomatic and Consular Relations,’ and his
substantive rank in his own country was that of Intendant of Circuit, a
rank corresponding, according to the Anglo-Chinese Treaty, to that of a
Consul.... Resident Yuan was permitted to proceed to the Audience Hall in
his chair and to be seated in the presence of the King, privileges not
accorded to the representatives of the other Powers.” (Wilkinson’s _The
Government of Korea_.) The privileges thus claimed by this representative
of China were obtained in the course of several years after the
conclusion of the Convention of 1885. They were largely ceremonial in
character and none of the representatives of the Treaty Powers ever
recognized the right of the so-called Resident to interfere in any manner
in their business with the Korean Government. Whatever there was peculiar
in his relations to that Government was a question of an understanding,
practically secret, and never formally enunciated or recognized, between
the Korean Court and himself. The conditions then prevailing in Korea
were highly conducive to the existence of such anomalies. An amiable but
weak King; a corrupt Court and Government, with two powerful factions
struggling for supremacy and stopping at nothing to gain it—these were
ideal conditions for the exercise of Chinese diplomacy. It accomplished
nothing in the end, however, even in the hands of such an astute and able
man as Yuan Shi Kai. Japan, of course, never recognized his pretensions,
but, biding her time and always dealing with Korea as an independent
state, devoted herself to the promotion of the rapidly growing commercial
and industrial interests of her people in the peninsula.
Naturally neither the Government nor the people of Japan could view
without resentment the attempts on China’s part to maintain rights she
had already practically surrendered. But this feeling did not assume a
definite form until the assassination of Kim Ok Kiun at Shanghai, in
March, 1894, and the arrest of a confederate of the murderer in Japan,
who confessed that he was officially commissioned to murder another
one of the Korean political refugees. These events aroused a storm
of indignation in Japan. What followed added fuel to the flames. The
murderer and the body of his victim were conveyed on board a Chinese
man-of-war to Korea. The murderer was rewarded and the severed parts of
Kim’s body were publicly exhibited in different parts of Seoul. Rightly
or wrongly this barbarous act, against which the foreign representatives
at the instance of the Japanese Minister unofficially protested, was
attributed to the Queen’s party. The excitement it caused had not
subsided when, in May, came the “Tong Hak” rebellion. The Tong Haks were
religious fanatics, the chief article of whose creed was said to be the
massacre of all foreigners. Seoul was rife with rumors, and the utmost
alarm and confusion prevailed. According to the report of the American
Minister, the rebellion was practically suppressed on the 3d of June by
Korean troops; and on the 8th of June the Government officially announced
that it was at an end. In the meantime, however, the Chinese Government,
without previous notice to Japan or mutual consultation, as stipulated
in the Convention of 1885, sent a force of 2,000 troops to Korea, which
on June 10th landed at A-San, about forty miles south of Chemulpo,
ostensibly to suppress the rebellion. The American Minister, Mr. Sill,
in his report on the subject to the Department of State, says that
“this was done at Korean request, dictated and insisted on by Yuan, the
Chinese Resident.” Learning of the purpose to send troops, the Japanese
Government promptly remonstrated with the Government at Peking, and in
reply was informed (after the act) that the troops had been sent because
urgently needed to suppress disorders in “the vassal state.” There was
no explanation and no apology beyond this palpable and contemptuous
violation of the terms of the Convention of 1885. There was but one
possible response. On the same day that the Chinese troops landed, a
force of Japanese marines was sent to the capital, to be replaced a few
days later by a larger body of soldiers. The scene of the struggle was
then transferred to Seoul. The Korean Government, having brought the
trouble on its own head, showed its usual impotence. It begged both Japan
and China to leave, and sought aid from the foreign representatives in
the effort to persuade them to do so. China was quite willing to accede
to these appeals. Possibly her agent on the spot, it may even be the
Government at Peking, was startled by the promptitude with which Japan
had accepted the challenge. In any event, China had nothing to lose and
much to gain by doing as Korea asked. She could leave the scene with
flying banners, having shown that Korea was in fact her vassal; that the
Convention was waste paper and that Japan could be flouted with impunity.
Naturally this programme did not commend itself to Japan. According
to her view of the situation there were certain vital questions to be
settled before the troops were withdrawn. Foremost among these was the
decision of Korea’s actual status; then, subsidiary to this, but none the
less important, the adoption of certain reforms which, while improving
the public administration and promoting the common weal, would prevent
the recurrence of disturbances which were a constant menace to the
welfare of Korea and her neighbors. Accordingly, the Japanese Minister
presented a memorial on the proposed reforms and demanded a categorical
statement as to whether Korea was a vassal of China or not.
Regarding the latter demand the American Minister reports that “This
caused great consternation,” since if they (the Korean Government)
answered in the negative they would offend China, while an affirmative
answer would bring down the wrath of Japan. After many consultations
and several reminders to be prompt from the Japanese, an answer was
given in this sense: “Korea, being an independent state, enjoys the same
sovereign rights as does Japan (see Treaty of Kang-wha, 1876), and that
‘in both internal administration and foreign intercourse Korea enjoys
complete independence’ (see letter of the King to the President of the
United States). They supposed that by thus quoting the treaties which
China allowed them to make she cannot take offence, while Japan should be
content with such an answer.”
The breaking out of hostilities between China and Japan was, of course,
the occasion of renewal in acute form of internal strife between the
conservative and the progressive forces in Korea. But for the time being
the progressive forces, backed by the dominance of the Japanese, were
the stronger. On the 5th of August, 1894, the Korean treaty with China
was denounced; on the 15th of the same month it was formally abrogated
by the Korean Government; and on the 19th notice of an entirely new plan
of Government was officially issued. On September 3d Marquis Saionji,
special Ambassador from the Emperor of Japan, had an audience with the
King and presented him with gifts, in honor of his accession to the
position of an independent sovereign. Numerous reforms[20] which had been
discussed in the Korean Council on July 31st of this same year and agreed
upon as laws to be submitted to His Majesty for his approval, instead of
being sincerely, wisely, and perseveringly enacted and enforced, became
the causes of increased defection, intrigue, and internal dissensions.
The rebellion (referred to above as the “Tong Hak” rebellion), which had
been reported as suppressed the previous June, broke out in a still more
dreadful form on the first of October (1894). The Korean rebels became a
“disorganized pillaging mob.” Taxes were no longer paid; Korean officials
were robbed and mutilated or murdered; small parties of the Japanese
were attacked and tortured to death after the traditional manner of the
nation. Meantime the Japanese forces were quite uniformly victorious
both by land and by sea; and on October 9th the last of the Chinese
forces were driven across the Yalu River. A solemn “oath, sworn at the
royal temple by His Majesty the King of Korea, while he worshipped, on
the 12th day of the twelfth moon of the five hundred and third year of
the foundation of Ta Chosen” (January 7, 1895), bound him to “give up
all idea of subjection to China and to labor firmly to establish the
independence of Korea”; “to decide all political affairs in council with
his Cabinet”; “to prevent Her Majesty the Queen, his concubines, and all
the royal relations from interfering in affairs of state,” thus securing
a separation between their affairs and those of the royal household; and
to introduce and foster other reforms of a political and educational
character. How poorly His Majesty kept his solemn oath, the subsequent
history of his throne and of his nation abundantly shows.
By the Chino-Japan war the dominating and baleful influence of China
was for all time removed, and to Korea was secured the opportunity for
an independent and progressive national development under the guidance,
and by the assistance, of Japan. That the Government of Japan honestly
wished for this good to come to Korea, there is no reasonable ground of
doubt. That the good did not follow is, however, due to the fault of both
nations. As regards the character and conduct of the average political
reformer there is a marked similarity between the Japanese and the
Koreans. Such a one is apt to be over-confident, and even self-conceited;
to have only a scanty acquaintance with the fundamental principles of
politics and of statesmanship; to be lacking in a judicial estimate of
the difficulties to be overcome; to make use (often with an apparent
preference for them) of offensive rather than conciliatory means; and to
have no adequate apprehension of the value of time, and of the necessity
of securing time, in order to effect important changes in national
affairs. Neither has he learned the art of compromise in consistency
with the maintenance of important moral principles. That Japan has not
hitherto failed in reforming herself as conspicuously as Korea is chiefly
due, after making proper allowances for the different environments of the
two nations, to the great difference in the character of the two Emperors
who have been upon their thrones during the period of trial; to the fact
that Japan has had a body of most conspicuously wise leaders—something
Korea has completely lacked; and to the difference as respects the
essential spirit of loyalty among the people which the feudal system
developed in Japan, but which has never been to any extent developed in
Korea.
The complete inability of the Korean official to comprehend, or
to sympathize with, the motives which led the representatives of
Japan—first, Mr. Otori and then Count Inouye—to urge the adoption of
administrative reforms may be judged by the fact that the King’s father,
the Tai Won Kun, handed to Inouye on his arrival as Minister at Seoul a
list of sixty persons whom he wished to have forthwith executed in order
to secure himself in control of affairs. Squabbles for power between the
party of the Queen and the party of the Tai Won Kun therefore continued
and even became increasingly acute. The Korean hot-head progressives were
pushing reforms without sufficient regard to the existing conditions.
But for a time the presence of a real statesman as the representative of
Japan in Korea kept the evil forces in check.
Count Inouye’s appointment to the post of Minister was an eloquent proof
of the profound interest which the Japanese Government took in Korea,
and of its earnest desire to aid her in the promotion of domestic reform
and progress. On the Count’s part, personally, the acceptance of such
a task, difficult and in many ways distasteful, was an exhibition of
self-sacrificing patriotism, to which the present action of his bosom
friend and associate, Marquis Ito, affords a striking parallel. While
striving to reconcile the warring Korean factions, he devoted himself
to the improvement of administrative conditions and to the promotion of
the public welfare. He attained a measure of success in some directions,
and would undoubtedly have achieved more lasting success had it been
possible for him to remain longer in Korea. His singleness of purpose was
recognized by many Koreans, and the sincerity of his endeavors to benefit
Korea was acknowledged by foreign observers. But the task was too heavy
for the time he could devote to it.
Finally, other more imperative duties called Count Inouye home, and
he was succeeded by Viscount Miura, a man of a different stamp. Then
followed the murder of the Queen, with all its unhappy train of
consequences. Although the crime was undoubtedly concocted by the Queen’s
implacable enemy, the Tai Won Kun, the Japanese Government never sought
to evade the share of responsibility imposed upon it. The tragedy was
a far severer blow to Japanese interests than to those of Korea, for
the Queen alive, and even still bitterly hostile to Japan, could never
have worked the harm that the manner of her taking-off had caused. And,
indeed, while apology for this murder from the moral point of view cannot
be justified, in spite of the cruel character of the victim and of the
fact that there was then visited upon her only the same treatment which
she had herself given to scores and hundreds of others, when considered
from the diplomatic point of view the act was even more foolish and
reprehensible.
The following account from Hershey[21] gives in brief, but with
sufficient detail for our purposes, the events of this period:—
The impolitic attempts at hasty and radical reform in Korea,
which followed the outbreak of the Chino-Japanese war, were
resisted by the Court party at Seoul, headed by the Queen and
the Min family to which she belonged. Early in October, 1895,
the Queen planned a _coup d’état_ with a view to disbanding
the soldiers who had been trained by Japanese officers, and of
replacing the pro-Japanese partisans of reform in the Korean
Cabinet by her friends. The result was a counter-plot (in which
the King’s father, the veteran conspirator Tai Won Kun, was
a prime mover) to seize the King and Queen with the aim of
obtaining complete control of the Korean Government in interest
of the pro-Japanese and reform party. In carrying out this
plot (in which the Japanese Minister Miura seems to have been
an accomplice) the Queen was murdered by Japanese and Korean
ruffians.
“This disgusting crime,” Hershey goes on to say, “although it assured
the power of the reform Cabinet for the time being, reacted upon its
perpetrators, and was followed, four months later, by another equally
revolting, by means of which Russia gained control of the Government of
Korea. In January, 1896, there took place a slight uprising in Northern
Korea, at the instigation, it was said, of pro-Russian leaders. When the
major portion of the army had been sent out of the capital to suppress
the rebellion, 127 Russian marines with a cannon suddenly landed at
Chemulpo on February 10, and immediately entered Seoul. The next day the
King, accompanied by the Crown Prince and some court ladies, fled in
disguise to the Russian Legation, where he remained until February 20,
1897.”
Following this escapade the Prime Minister, Kim Hong Chip, a man widely
respected and in no way connected with the murder of the Queen, and Chung
Pyang Ha, equally innocent of the same crime, were deliberately thrust
forth from the palace gates into the hands of the waiting mob, which,
in true Korean fashion, tore them limb from limb. Another Minister was
killed a few days later in the country. Thus ended Japan’s attempt to
enter into friendly relations with Korea while the latter nation was
in the anomalous condition of an independent dependency of China. Two
valuable results, however, had been reached: Korea had been definitively
and finally delivered from Chinese control and dominating influence; and
her own inability to stand alone and to inaugurate the needed reforms
had been, it would seem, quite sufficiently demonstrated. Japan, on the
other hand, had not as yet shown her ability wisely to inaugurate and
effectively to secure these reforms; and by the injudicious action of
her representative in Korea she had thrown the temporary control of the
Korean Court into the selfish and intriguing hands of other foreigners.
The events of the next decade, therefore, led logically and irresistibly
forward to a yet more desperate struggle, at a yet more frightful cost,
to solve the Korean problem.
CHAPTER X
THE PROBLEM: HISTORICAL (_CONTINUED_)
The conclusion of the centuries of intricate and unsatisfactory relations
between these two countries was, to quote the words of another, that
“Japan saw herself deposed from the position in Korea to which her
victories entitled her, by a nation which appeared to be both an upstart
and a usurper on the Sea of Japan.”[22] For three and a quarter centuries
Russia had been advancing through Asia at the average rate of 20,000
square miles annually; and now, in the endeavor, in itself laudable, to
secure an outlet on the Pacific for her Asiatic possessions, she began
extending her customary policy over Manchuria and the Peninsula. It is
doubtful whether the Korean King, when he took refuge in the Russian
Legation at Seoul, was really alarmed for his personal safety; it is
certain that he hated intensely the reform measures which had been forced
upon him, and the men among his own subjects who were committed to
those measures. His life was, however, never in any real danger at this
period. His presence and his position at the Russian Legation, during his
entire stay there, was lacking in all semblance of royal dignity. He was
himself in the virtual custody of a foreign power. The different Cabinet
Ministers had their places assigned in the dining-room of the Legation,
behind screens;—“all except one lucky individual who secured quarters
for his exclusive use in an abandoned out-house where wood and coal were
usually stored.”
There began now a game of manœuvring and intrigue in which, for some
years to come, the Japanese were to be at a large disadvantage. The
King, who has always shown himself irrevocably committed to the peculiar
methods of Korean politics, within two weeks of the day on which he had
taken refuge in the Russian Legation, began secretly communicating with
the Japanese Minister. The Russian Minister at that time, who has been
pronounced “probably the most adroit representative of her interests whom
Russia ever had in Korea,” proclaimed himself an unwilling victim of the
King’s fear, which he regarded as hysterical, but could not, in common
decency, fail to respect. The Japanese were in no position to resent the
insult or to foreguard against the menace which all this involved.
Not unnaturally, the Russian representative undertook promptly to avail
his country of the especially favorable opportunity for promoting its
interests in the Far East which was offered by the intimate relations
of protection established over the Korean Government. For it should
never be lost out of mind that until years after these events, whoever
had dominating influence with the Korean monarch controlled, in largest
measure, the Korean Government. M. Waeber, among other material benefits,
secured valuable mining and timber concessions for his countrymen; it
was also, probably, due to his influence that the Korean troops which
had been trained by the Japanese, were disbanded. There then followed a
radical change in the policy of Japan, which is described as follows by
Hershey:[23]
In the summer of 1896 Japan formally departed from her
policy of the past two decades of upholding the independence
and integrity of Korea by her own efforts, and sought the
co-operation of Russia toward the same end. On May 14th, the
Russian and Japanese Ministers at Seoul concluded a memorandum
which fixed the number and disposition of Japanese troops in
Korea. On June 9, 1896, the Yamagata-Lobanoff protocol was
signed at St. Petersburg. It was thereby agreed:
(1) That the Japanese and Russian governments
should unite in advising the Korean Government to
suppress all unnecessary expenses and to establish
an equilibrium between expenditure and revenue. If,
as a result of reforms which should be considered
indispensable, it should become necessary to have
recourse to foreign debts, the two governments should
of a common accord render their support to Korea.
(2) The Japanese and Russian governments should try
to abandon to Korea, in so far as the financial and
economic situation of that country should permit,
the creation and maintenance of an armed force
and of a police organized of native subjects, in
proportion sufficient to maintain internal order,
without foreign aid. (3) Russia was to be permitted
to establish a telegraph line from Seoul to her
frontier; the Japanese Government being allowed to
administer those lines already in its possession.
(4) In case the principles above expounded require a
more precise and more detailed definition, or if in
the future other points should arise about which it
should be necessary to consult, the representatives
of the two governments should be instructed to
discuss them amicably.
The Protocol of June, 1896, was no sooner signed than Russia proceeded
to violate its terms. In the same month she tried to gain control of the
Korean army by placing it under Russian instruction and discipline; in
the same year, she urged the request that the disposal of all the Korean
taxes and customs be placed in the hands of M. Kir Alexeieff. This plan
was partly carried through the following year, and Mr. J. McLeavy Brown
was dismissed from the position of Financial Adviser and General Director
of Customs for Korea, although he was soon after formally restored to
the latter office, the control of which he had never been, in fact,
induced to surrender. In August of 1897, M. de Speyer succeeded M.
Waeber as the Representative of Russia (_Conseiller d’Etat_) in Korea;
his conduct of Russian affairs, which seems to have been quite devoid of
the conciliatory policy of his predecessor, lost for his country many of
the advantages which had already been secured. Besides the inducement
from this fact, the recent acquisition of Port Arthur and Ta-lien-wan
seemed to make it desirable for Russia, for the time being at least, to
conciliate Japan. And Japan, on her part, definitively committed herself
to the effort to conciliate Russia, while at the same time safeguarding
her own important, and indeed essentially vital, interests in the
Peninsula. Accordingly there was concluded between the two nations the
Nishi-Rosen Protocol of August 25, 1898.
That instrument was as follows:
ARTICLE I.—The Imperial governments of Japan and Russia
definitely recognize the sovereignty and entire independence
of Korea, and mutually engage to abstain from all direct
interference in the affairs of that country.
ARTICLE II.—Desiring to remove every possible cause of
misunderstanding in the future, the Imperial governments of
Japan and Russia mutually engage not to take any measure
regarding the nomination of military instructors and financial
advisers without having previously arrived at a mutual accord
on the subject.
ARTICLE III.—In view of the great development of the commercial
and industrial enterprise of Japan in Korea, as also the
considerable number of Japanese subjects residing in that
country, the Russian Imperial Government shall not impede the
development of commercial and industrial relations between
Japan and Korea.
Five days later—namely, on August 30th—Marquis Ito, who was visiting in
Korea, and had been cordially received by the Emperor and invited to
dine with him, publicly reaffirmed the policy for which His Imperial
Majesty of Japan and he himself, as His Majesty’s subject, wished to be
responsible, in a speech delivered at a dinner given at the Foreign
Office. On that occasion the Marquis spoke as follows:
YOUR EXCELLENCIES AND GENTLEMEN:
I thank you sincerely for the kind words in which the Acting
Minister of Foreign Affairs has just addressed me on your
behalf, but at the same time I am constrained to say that I
do not deserve the high compliments which he chose to confer
upon me. Allow me to avail myself of the present opportunity to
say a few words concerning the attitude of Japan toward this
country. You doubtless know that in 1873 a group of Japanese
statesmen advocated the despatch of a punitive expedition to
Korea, a proposal to which I was uncompromisingly opposed from
the outset, because I deemed such a war not only uncalled for,
but contrary to the principles of humanity. You may imagine the
magnitude of the excitement occasioned by this question, when
I tell you that the split which it caused in the ranks of the
Japanese statesmen led to a tremendous civil war a few years
afterward. The point to which I wish to direct your attention
is that His Imperial Japanese Majesty’s Government did not
hesitate to reject what it considered to be an unjust proposal
even at such gigantic risk.
Japan’s policy toward Korea has since been unchanged; in other
words, her object has always been to assist and befriend this
country. It is true that at times incidents of an unpleasant
nature unfortunately interfered with the maintenance of
unsuspecting cordiality between the two nations. But I may
conscientiously assure you that the real object of the Japanese
Government has always been to render assistance to Korea in her
noble endeavors to be a civilized and independent state.
I am sincerely gratified to see that to-day Korea is
independent and sovereign. Henceforth it will be Japan’s
wish to see Korea’s independence further strengthened and
consolidated; no other motive shall influence Japan’s conduct
toward this country. On this point you need not entertain the
slightest doubt.
Japan’s good wishes for Korean independence are all the
more sincere and reliable because her vital interests are
bound up with those of your country. A danger to Korean
independence will be a danger to Japan’s safety. So you will
easily recognize that the strongest of human motives, namely
self-interest, combines with neighborly feelings to make Japan
a sincere well-wisher and friend of Korean independence.
Let me repeat once more that Korea may rest assured of the
absence of all sinister motives on Japan’s part. Friendship
between two countries in the circumstances of Japan and Korea
ought to be free from any trace of suspicion and doubt as to
each other’s motives and intentions. In conclusion, allow me to
express my heartful hope that you may long remain in office and
assiduously exert yourselves for the good of your sovereign and
country.
With the coming of M. Pavloff to Korea as its Representative, in
December, 1898, the diplomacy of Russia in this part of the Orient
abandoned the traditional method of patient, persistent effort at
advance, together with more or less perfect assimilation of the new
tribes and peoples brought under its control, and adopted the more
brilliant but dangerous policy of a swift promotion of obviously
selfish schemes by a mixture of threats and cajolery. It is not even
now certain how far this policy was supported by, or even known to, the
home government of Russia. The war with Japan, to which these acts led
steadily and irresistibly forward, seemed, only in its actual results, to
reveal at all fully to this Government what its representatives had been
doing in the Far East.
Among the various attempts of M. Pavloff and his coadjutors to obtain
concessions for themselves and for their country, those which looked
toward the establishment of a Russian naval base in certain localities of
the Korean coast were threatening to Japan. “But Russia’s conduct on the
Northern frontier of Korea along the Tumen and Yalu rivers was”—to quote
again from Hershey—“the greatest source of anxiety to Japan.”
In 1896 Russia had obtained valuable mining concessions in
two districts near the port of Kiong-hung at the mouth of
the Tumen River, and later sought to extend her influence in
that region. More important and dangerous, however, to the
interests of Japan were the attempts of Russia to obtain an
actual foothold on Korean territory at Yong-am-po on the Korean
side of the Yalu River. As far back as 1896, when the King
was a guest of the Russian Legation, a Russian merchant had
obtained timber concessions on the Uining Island in the Sea of
Japan and on the Tumen and Yalu rivers. The concession along
the Yalu was to be forfeited unless work was begun within five
years in the other two regions. This condition does not appear
to have been complied with when the Korean Government was
suddenly notified on April 13, 1903, that the Russian timber
syndicate would at once begin the work of cutting timber on the
Yalu. Early in May sixty Russian soldiers in civilian dress,
later increased by several hundred more, were reported to have
occupied Yong-am-po, a point rather remote from the place where
actual cutting was in progress. At the same time there was
taking place a mysterious mobilization of troops from Liaoyang
and Port Arthur toward Feng-hwang-cheng and Antung on the other
side of the Yalu. Early in June four Russian warships paid a
week’s visit to Chemulpo. In August M. Pavloff appears to have
been on the point of obtaining an extension of the Yong-am-po
lease, but this was prevented by the receipt of an ultimatum
from the Japanese Minister. Mr. Hayashi threatened that if the
Korean Government were to sign such a lease, Japan would regard
diplomatic relations between the two countries as suspended,
and would regard herself as free to act in her own interests.
In this connection it should be said, that while the Korean Government
did not formally renew the lease, the Emperor did secretly enter into an
arrangement with M. Pavloff concerning Yong-am-po, practically conceding
all that was asked on Russia’s behalf. This document was discovered after
the war began and hastily cancelled by the Emperor, of his own accord,
upon the recommendation of the Korean Minister for Foreign Affairs.
Meantime another conflict of interests between Russia and Japan was
developing and contributing to the same result—namely, the Russo-Japanese
war. This was the so-called “Manchurian Question.” It is not necessary
for the purposes of our narrative to trace with any detail the origin
and different stages of that succession of successful intrigues and
encroachments upon foreign territory which had been for some time carried
on with the Chinese by methods similar to those now being employed in
Korea. Some of the more salient points in the history of the preceding
period of nearly a half-century need, however, to be called to mind.
In 1860, when the allied forces occupied Peking, the Russian Minister,
General Ignatieff, by a brilliant stroke of diplomacy, secured for his
country the cession of the maritime province of Manchuria, with 600 miles
of coast, and the harbor of Vladivostok, down to the mouth of the Tumen.
For this he gave nothing in return beyond the pretence that it was in his
power to bring pressure upon the allies and thus secure their more speedy
evacuation of the Chinese capital.
Thirty years later, after the new province had been developed and
the harbor of Vladivostok converted into a powerful fortress, Russia
determined upon building an all-rail route across Siberia, and
immediately began to press for other concessions in Chinese territory
that in 1897 resulted in the association which constructed what is now
known as the Manchurian Railway. This enterprise was ostensibly a joint
affair of the two countries; but it has been fitly described as “only
a convenient bonnet” for an essentially Russian undertaking. Russian
engineers now came in large numbers to Manchuria; Russian Cossacks
accompanied them for purposes of their protection. Later in the same
year the seizure by Germany of Kiao-chau, in satisfaction for outrages
committed upon German missionaries, was followed by Russia’s request
to the Chinese Government for permission to winter her fleet at Port
Arthur. In March of the next year Japan had the added mortification,
bitterness, and cause for alarm, of seeing Russia demand and obtain from
China a formal lease of the same commercial and strategic points of
the peninsula of Liao-tung of which Russia, by combining with Germany
and France, had deprived Japan when she had won them by conquest in
war. These enterprises in Manchuria were financed by the Russo-Chinese
Bank, an institution which had recently been founded in the Far East
as a branch of the Russian Ministry of Finance. So important is this
last-mentioned fact that one writer places upon M. Pokotiloff, Chief of
the Russo-Chinese Bank in Berlin, the responsibility for the whole Port
Arthur episode, and declares it was he who dictated the policy of Russia
in Manchuria after the Boxer uprising.[24]
The occupation of Port Arthur and Ta-lien-wan (renamed Dalny) was
accompanied by assurances from the Russian Government—chiefly designed
to quiet Great Britain and Japan—that it had “no intention of infringing
the rights and privileges guaranteed by existing treaties between China
and foreign countries;” and that no interference with Chinese sovereignty
was contemplated. To the objections raised when it proceeded to fortify
Port Arthur, the reply was made that Russia “must have a safe harbor for
her fleet, which could not be at the mercy of the elements at Vladivostok
or dependent upon the good-will of Japan.” Under this plea she refused
to change the status of Port Arthur as a closed and principally military
port. The effect of all this upon the attitude of public feeling in Japan
toward Russia can easily be imagined. Even when, in August, 1899, the
port of Dalny was declared “open” by an Imperial ukase, regulations with
respect to passports and claims to a monopoly of mining rights continued
to lessen the confidence of other nations in Russia’s good faith with
respect to the occupation of Manchuria. It is now sufficiently well
established that during this period secret agreements between Li Hung
Chang and the Russian Government were made which enlarged the special
privileges of Russia in Manchuria. Meantime, also, her military hold was
being strengthened; so that by December, 1898, she had 20,000 men at her
two ports, while Cossack guards—“the pennons on their lances showing a
combination of the Russian colors and the Chinese dragon”—were patrolling
the railway line and protecting the work of fortification at Port Arthur.
During these years the Japanese Government was watching with quiet but
painful solicitude the movements going forward in China. When Marquis
Ito visited Peking and the Yangtse provinces in the summer of 1898,
he was received with marked attention, especially by the reform party
among the leading Chinese officials; but the baleful influence of the
Dowager-Empress, and of the party opposed to everything likely to
curtail their power, arrested the attempts at _rapprochement_ between
China and Japan. It was the so-called “Boxer Movement,” however, which
gave to Russia a new claim of right to interfere in Chinese affairs and
to establish more firmly than ever before her special privileges in
Manchuria. The history of this movement—of the way in which Russia dealt
with its extension into Manchuria, of the siege of Peking and the doings
of the allied forces, and of the subsequent behavior of the Russians
with regard to the evacuation of Manchuria—is now well known, or easily
accessible, by all students of the period.
In spite of repeated promises to evacuate the points seized and held by
Russian forces when, after the relief of the Legations, these forces
were withdrawn from Peking and Chi-li to be concentrated in Manchuria,
and in disregard of the interests of the other allies, the policy of
keeping all that she had gained, and of gaining more as far as possible,
was steadily pursued by Russia. On November 11, 1900, an agreement was
made between the Representative of Admiral Alexeieff and the Tartar
General at Mukden, the most significant point of which was the promise
of the Chinese official to provide the Russian troops with lodging and
provisions, to disarm and disband all Chinese soldiers and hand over
all arms and ammunition to the Russians, and to dismantle all forts and
defences not occupied by the Russians.
It was the probable effect of a continued occupation of Manchuria by
Russia upon their business interests which led Great Britain and America
to wish that the repeated Russian assurances of good faith toward China
and toward all foreign nations should manifest themselves in works. The
case could not be wholly the same with Japan. Her interests of trade
were, indeed, if not at the time so large, more close and vital than
those of any other nation outside of China. But her other interests were
incomparable. So that when Russia failed to carry out her engagements,
even under a convention which was so much in her favor, there was a
revival of suspicion and apprehension on the part of the Japanese
Government and the Japanese people. Manchuria and Korea both pointed an
index finger of warning directed toward Russia.
It was to further a peaceful adjustment of all the disturbed condition
of the interests of Russia and Japan in the Far East that Marquis Ito
went, on his way home from his visit to the United States, at the end
of 1901, on an unofficial mission to St. Petersburg. The failure of
the overtures which he bore discouraged those of the leading Japanese
statesmen who were hoping for some reconciliation which might take the
shape of allowing Russian ascendency in Manchuria and Japanese ascendency
in Korea. It also strengthened the conviction which prevailed among
the younger statesmen that the St. Petersburg Government regarded
Manchuria as not only its fortress in the Far East, but also as its path
to the peninsula lying within sight of Japan’s shores. “The Japanese
Government,” says Mr. D. W. Stevens, “at last felt that the vital
interests of Japan might be irrevocably jeopardized in Korea as well
as in Manchuria, if it continued to remain a mere passive spectator
of Russian encroachments; and in August, 1903, it resolved to take
a decisive step. In the most courteous form and through the usual
diplomatic channels Japan intimated at St. Petersburg that her voice
must be heard, and listened to, in connection with Far Eastern questions
in which her interests were vitally concerned.” The answer of Russia
was the appointment of Admiral Alexeieff as Viceroy over the Czar’s
possessions in the Far East, with executive and administrative powers of
a semi-autocratic character.
But let us return to Korea and inquire: What was the policy with which
its Emperor and his Court met the exceedingly critical situation into
which the country was being forced by the conflict going on between
Russia and Japan both within, and just outside of, its borders? The
answer is not dubious. It was the policy, in yet more aggravated form,
of folly, weakness, intrigue, and corruption, both in the administration
of internal affairs and also in the management of the now very delicate
foreign relations. The Emperor was—to use the descriptive phrase of
another—enjoying “an orgy of independence.” The former restraints
which had been imposed upon him by Chinese domination, by the personal
influence of the Tai Won Kun, or of the Queen, by his fears of the
reformers, and even by any passive emotional impulses of his own, leading
to reformation, were now all removed. While he was a “guest” at the
Russian Legation there was certainly no direct influence exerted by his
hosts, to assist, advise, or guide him into better ways. It was not the
policy of Russia to effect—at least for the present or immediately
prospective occasion—any moral betterment of the administration of
Korean home and foreign affairs. Under the regency of his father, the
Government had been cruel, despotic, and murderous toward both native
and foreign Christians. But the Tai Won Kun had some regard for ancient
common laws and usages. Under him the people were reasonably sure of such
rights, protection, and privileges of public domain, as their ancestors
had enjoyed. The public granaries were kept full against the time of
famine. The timber and fire-wood on the hills was not given over to
any one who could bribe or cajole the corrupt officials; and the line
of demarcation between royal and popular rights was more clearly drawn
and better understood. But now all this was changed for the worse. The
King declared himself the sole and private owner—to dispose of as he
saw fit—of all the properties which had formerly been considered as
belonging to the state. Low-born favorites appropriated or laid waste
the public domain. The country’s resources were wasted; the people were
subjected to new and irregular exactions, levied by irregular people for
illegal purposes. A succession of the most consummate rascals which ever
afflicted any country came into virtual control. They were endowed with
offices purchased or extorted from the head ruler. Eunuchs were sent out
from the palace on “still hunts,” so to speak, to discover any kind of
property which, by any pretext whatever, could be claimed; and to seize
such property in the name of His Majesty, or of the King’s concubine,
Lady Om, or of some one of the Imperial Princes. Laws which were intended
to promote the ends of justice were twisted from their purpose and made
to serve the ends of plunder. Such privileges as that of coining and
counterfeiting the currency were sold to private persons.
Then began also that squandering of the nation’s most valuable resources
which, under the name of “concessions” to foreigners who generally allied
themselves for this end with corrupt Korean officials, has continued down
to the present time; and the adjustment of which is still giving the
Resident-General and his judicial advisers some of their most serious
problems. To quote the description of this period by a distinguished
foreigner, long in the Korean service: “Nothing in this country is
safe from the horde which surrounds His Majesty and seemingly has his
confidence. Public office is bought and sold without even the pretence
of concealment. Officials share with the palace the plunder which they
extort from the people. So and So (naming a prominent Korean Official)
is said to owe his influence there largely to the fact that out of every
ten thousand _yen_ which he collects he surrenders seven thousand to
the Emperor, retaining only three for himself. With his colleagues it
is usually the other way, about.” According to the same authority, many
kinds of property which were formerly regarded as belonging to the state
were now being appropriated to the Emperor’s use, or to that of his
favorites, without any pretext, under the rule that “might makes right.”
Torturing, strangling, and decapitation, were no infrequent methods of
accomplishing the imperial will; though it should be said that these
favors were somewhat impartially distributed. Sometimes it was the secret
strangling in prison of such patriots as An Kyun-su and Kwan Yung-chin,
on the night of May 27, 1900—than which, it has truly been said, “no more
dastardly crime ever stained the annals of this or any other government”:
sometimes it was the torturing and execution of such unspeakable rascals
as the ex-court-favorites, Kim Yung-chun (1901), Yi Yong-ik, and Yi
Keun-tak (1902). In a word, _the period of “independence,” to which the
Emperor has been lately imploring his own subjects and the civilized
world to restore him, was the period in which he took what, and gave
away what, and did what he chose, under the basest influences; for the
most worthless or mischievous ends, without law or pretence of justice
or goodness of heart, to the lasting disgrace and essential ruin of the
nation_.
Such is a summary of the doings during the years preceding the
Russo-Japanese war, on the part of the Korean Emperor and his Court.
“Through all this period,” says Mr. Hulbert,[25] “Russian influence was
quietly at work securing its hold upon the Korean Court and upon such
members of the government as it could win over. The general populace
was always suspicious of her, however, and always preferred the rougher
hand of Japan to the soft but heavy hand of Russia.” The threatening
nature of the situation created by these Russian encroachments was as
well understood at Washington and London as at Tokyo. It was intimately
connected with the Manchurian question to the untangling of which Mr. Hay
had devoted so much thought.
But Russia’s action in Manchuria, threatening as it was to the interests,
not alone of Japan but also of other foreign powers, did not call upon
the Japanese Government for armed interference.[26] As the behavior of
Japan showed during the Boxer troubles in China, she had learned caution
with respect to fighting the battles of civilized Europe and America, at
her own expense and without show of gratitude from others.
As we have already seen, the most threatening feature of the situation
for Japan was Russia’s activity upon the Yalu, especially at Yong-am-po.
In the interests of peace Mr. Hay supplemented his efforts to maintain
the principle of the open door and equal opportunity in Manchuria, by
an earnest endeavor (which had Lord Lansdowne’s cordial support) to
fend off the impending quarrel between Japan and Russia. Since all the
Treaty Powers were interested in the matter of treaty ports in Korea,
the method that most readily suggested itself was the opening of Wiju
and Yong-am-po, which would remove any question of the latter place
being used as a military or naval base. The request was reasonable from
every point of view, since Wiju, as the market town, and Yong-am-po,
as the port, were naturally the complement, on the Korean side of the
Yalu, of Antung then recently declared an open port on the Manchurian.
Indeed, other considerations apart, some such action was imperatively
necessary from the Korean standpoint, inasmuch as an open port in Chinese
territory, without a corresponding port of entry in neighboring Korean
territory, could not fail to be prejudicial to the interests of Korea.
Accordingly the American and British representatives at Seoul were
instructed to urge upon the Korean Government the necessity of opening
these ports.
This was done, but the attempt to persuade the Emperor met with strenuous
opposition on M. Pavloff’s part, and finally failed, apparently because
of the incapacity of His Majesty’s nearest advisers to grasp the real
significance of the crisis and the momentous effect which the decision
must have upon Korea’s fortunes. The struggle was a fierce one while it
lasted and, among other minor results, led to the resignation of the
Minister for Foreign Affairs. The gentleman who succeeded him, as Acting
Minister, was disposed to favor the opening of the ports, in spite of the
strong opposition of the palace coterie. He went so far as to prepare
letters to the foreign representatives declaring the ports open, and was
actually about sending them out, on his own responsibility, when he was
stopped, partly by a peremptory order from the palace, and partly by
the persuasion of his friends who represented to him the great personal
danger he would incur by such a step.
The narrative of this official throws a curious side-light upon M.
Pavloff’s methods and shows in an interesting way his persistence, even
at a time when the correspondence between Russia and Japan preceding the
war had reached a critical stage, in endeavoring by every means at his
command to carry through the very intrigue which formed the _gravamen_
of Japan’s strongest reason for complaining. It is easy, in the light
of what has happened, to condemn this action; but even at the time it
must have seemed to impartial observers more like the infatuation of a
desperate gambler than the well-considered moves of a shrewd diplomatist.
It was all done, too, in support of a transparent subterfuge, namely:
that Russia had no arrangement with Korea which gave to the proposed
use of Yong-am-po any other character than that of an entirely peaceful
occupation for legitimate commercial purposes; and that her agents had
done absolutely nothing in the way of preparing the place for military
occupation. When he was urging upon the Acting Minister for Foreign
Affairs reasons for not opening Yong-am-po, the latter enquired: “Why
have you staked off such a large extent of territory, and why are you
building a fort?” M. Pavloff instantly denied in emphatic terms that
anything of the kind had been done. “For the past ten days,” quietly
replied the Korean official, “I have had two men whom I trust thoroughly
on the spot, and my question is the result of telegraphic reports I
have received from them.” The interview did not continue, but within
forty-eight hours his scouts reported to the Acting Minister that all the
stakes had been removed. There had not been time, they said, thoroughly
to remove all traces of works upon the fortifications, but that as much
of the works as possible had been levelled and the whole covered up with
loose earth, tree-trunks and branches. Such effrontery seems incredible;
but these are facts, and others like them equally typical of M. Pavloff’s
methods could be recited. It is doubtful whether even his own government
knew all the circumstances, or was fully aware, until it was too late,
what he had done and was continuing to do to arouse Japanese suspicion
and resentment.
The negotiations having in view the peaceful adjustment of the
conflicting interests of Russia and Japan in the Far East, which
were begun by the latter country in the summer of 1903, were further
continued. Mr. Kurino, the Japanese Minister at St. Petersburg, was
informed by Baron Komura, who was then Japanese Minister of Foreign
Affairs, that the recent conduct of Russia at Peking, in Manchuria, and
in Korea, was the cause of grave concern to the Government at Tokyo.
“The unconditional and permanent occupation of Manchuria by Russia
would,” said Baron Komura, “create a state of things prejudicial to the
security and interests of Japan. The principle of equal opportunity would
thereby be annulled, and the territorial integrity of China be impaired.
There is, however, a still more serious consideration for the Japanese
Government; that is to say, if Russia was established on the flank of
Korea it would be a constant menace to the separate existence of that
empire, or at least would make Russia the dominant power in Korea. But
Korea is an important outpost in Japan’s line of defence, and Japan
consequently considers its independence absolutely essential to her own
repose and safety. Moreover, the political as well as the commercial and
industrial interests and influence which Japan possesses in Korea are
paramount over those of other Powers. These interests and this influence
Japan, having regard to her own security, cannot consent to surrender to,
or share with, another Power.”
In view of these reasons, Mr. Kurino was instructed to present the
following note to Count Lamsdorff, the Russian Minister of Foreign
Affairs: “The Japanese Government desires to remove from the relations
of the two empires every cause of future misunderstanding, and believes
that the Russian Government shares the same desire. The Japanese
Government would therefore be glad to enter with the Russian Imperial
Government upon an examination of the condition of affairs in the regions
of the extreme East, where their interests meet, with a view of defining
their respective special interests in those regions. If this suggestion
fortunately meets with the approval, in principle, of the Russian
Government, the Japanese Government will be prepared to present to the
Russian Government their views as to the nature and scope of the proposed
understanding.”
The consent of Count Lamsdorff and the Czar having been obtained,
on August 12th articles were prepared and submitted by the Japanese
Government which it wished to have serve as a basis of understanding
between the two countries. The essential agreements to be secured by
these articles were: (1) A mutual engagement to respect the independence
and territorial integrity of the Chinese and Korean empires, and to
maintain the “open door” in these countries; and (2) a reciprocal
recognition of Japan’s preponderating interests in Korea and of Russia’s
special interests in Manchuria. These demands were not altered in any
very important way by Japan during all the subsequent negotiations. It
was their persistent rejection by Russia, together with her long delays
in replying while she was meantime making obvious preparations of a
war-like character, which precipitated the tremendous conflict that
followed some months later. In her first reply with counter proposals
which was made nearly eight weeks later through Baron Rosen, the Russian
Minister at Tokyo, Russia not only reduced Japan’s demands regarding
Korea, but even proposed new restrictions upon her in that country. But
what was equally significant, the counter-proposals took no account
of the demand for an agreement as to the independence and territorial
integrity of the Chinese empire, or as to the policy of the “open door”
in Manchuria and Korea. On the contrary, they required Japan expressly
to recognize Manchuria as “in all respects outside her sphere of
interest.” Meantime Russia was increasing her commercial and military
activity in both the territorial spheres where the question of interests
and rights was under dispute.
In the second overture of October 30th, several important concessions
were made by Japan, to which on December 11th Russia replied with
a repetition of the former counter-proposal—omitting, however, the
offensive clause regarding Manchuria and inserting the Japanese proposal
relating to the connection of the Korean and the Chinese-Eastern
railways. Ten days later the Japanese Government presented a third
overture in which Baron Komura tried to make it clear to the Russian
Government that Japan desired “to bring within the purview of the
proposed arrangement all those regions in the Far East where the
interests of the two empires meet.” But when the reply of Russia was
received in Tokyo on January 6, 1904, it was found that not only was
there no mention made of the territorial integrity of China in Manchuria,
but that Russia again insisted upon Japan’s regarding the “Manchurian
Question” and the littoral of Manchuria as quite outside her sphere
of interest. Russia, indeed, agreed “not to impede Japan or the other
Powers in the enjoyment of the rights and privileges acquired by them
under existing treaties with China, exclusive of the establishment of
settlements”; but only on condition that Japan would agree not to use
any part of the territory of Korea for strategical purposes, and also to
the establishment of a neutral zone in Northern Korea. In spite of the
fact that the two governments were still as far apart as at the beginning
in regard to the most vital points of interest, Japan made another and
fourth attempt. This overture was presented to Count Lamsdorff on January
13th and, in spite of the urgent request for an early reply, this did
not come until February 7, the day following the severing of diplomatic
relations between the two countries. Negotiations were then ended; appeal
was now made to the “arbitrament of war,” so-called.
It is not our purpose to discuss in detail the question of rights, as
involved in these negotiations, whether from the political or the moral
point of view, or to consider whether Japan’s method of initiating
hostilities was in accordance with law, or with precedent as established,
if such it can be said to be, by the usage of civilized nations. In both
regards we believe, however, that the claims of Japan to have the right
upon her side are in all important particulars defensible. But having
begun the war with Russia it can be seen that to secure free passage for
her troops through Korea, and to secure Korea in the rear of her troops
as they passed to the front, were necessities imposed upon Japan in a
yet more absolute and indisputable fashion than was the undertaking of
the war itself. If it was necessary in order to maintain the integrity
and free, peaceful development of Japan that, all other means having
failed, she should resort to arms in the effort to check the dangerous
encroachments of Russia in Manchuria and Korea, it was immediately and
essentially necessary for any measure of success in this last resort,
that she should gain and hold control over the conduct of the Korean
Court and the Korean populace during the war. What were the nature and
the habitual modes of behavior of both Court and people has already
been made clear; more information on these subjects will be afforded in
subsequent chapters. As to danger of treachery we may note in passing
that, while friendship was being protested to the face of the Japanese in
Korea, a boat was picked up in the Yellow Sea, late in January, 1904—that
is, a few days before the outbreak of the war—which bore a Korean
messenger with a letter to Port Arthur asking for Russian troops to be
sent to Korea. The resort to valuable concessions as a bribe for foreign
influence became at once, on the beginning of hostilities, more active
even than before. On this latter point we quote the words of Mr. D. W.
Stevens:
The outbreak of the war created a veritable storm of terror
in the ranks of Korean officialdom. Many of its members who
were known as Russian sympathizers fled to the country; a few
took refuge in the houses of foreign friends. Palace circles
were in particular profoundly agitated. There was a curious
manifestation of the trend of the Korean official mind toward
the belief that political support can be bought. Those were
golden days for the foreigner who, willing to trade upon
Korean ignorance and credulity, cared to let it be understood,
either openly or tacitly, that his government would appreciate
favors shown to himself. One foreign minister was surprised
by the offer of a mining concession which before that he had
unsuccessfully tried to obtain. Having due regard for his own
and his country’s reputation he naturally declined. Others,
private individuals, were not so scrupulous; and there are
to-day extant exceptionally favorable public grants, both
claimed and actually enjoyed, which were thus, as it has been
put, “obtained in the shadow of the war.”
At this time the Emperor was dominated by the influence of a courtier
named Yi Yong-ik, whose foreign affiliations were wholly Russian. The
Palace coterie, even including this man’s bitter political enemies, was
almost entirely pro-Russian. But the Emperor was also, of course, much
afraid of the Japanese, who were now near at hand, whereas the Russians
and their Korean coadjutors had either fled the country or gone into
retirement. For the time being, therefore, Japan had control of the
Imperial environment. Meantime, one of two courses only seemed open
to the Japanese themselves: they could either set aside the Emperor
and his untrustworthy officials, and assume complete control of Korean
affairs; or they could make some sort of arrangement which would secure
an alliance with Korea. If faithful to this alliance, the Emperor would
be assured of his personal safety and of his throne; and the country
would be placed definitively under Japanese protection. The leaders in
Japan knew perfectly well that His Korean Majesty was anti-Japanese and
characteristically false and treacherous; but they hoped by moderation
to win him over to at least a partial and temporary fulfilment of the
obligations under which he would be placed by the adoption of the more
friendly course.
There were also military reasons why a sort of protectorate and alliance
seemed necessary; and if possible in a way to avoid the troubles of a
forcible annexation. For, very special and momently imminent dangers
threatened the construction and use of the railway by which the Japanese
were transporting their troops and supplies through Korea to the seat of
the war. In several instances armed attacks were made upon the workmen
and the track was torn up. In another connection it will be shown that
the charge of extreme cruelty and wholesale slaughter made by Mr.
Hulbert[27] (and illustrated by a picture designed to excite pathos),
because the Japanese military authorities executed some of the leaders
of these dangerous riots, is quite unwarranted by the facts. The same
thing may be said of the charge that the _Po-an_, or “Society for the
Promotion of Peace and Safety,” was illegally and wantonly suppressed
by the Japanese in July of 1904. The simple truth is that this society
bore about the same relation to the cause of “peace and safety” which
has been borne during the past two years by the several associations for
intrigue and murder which have masqueraded under titles suggestive of the
most noble schemes for promoting the interests of patriotism, education,
morals and religion. It must be either a dull or a prejudiced mind,
indeed, that can take in the atmosphere of Korean politics for even a
few months—not to say, years—of residence in the land, and not understand
the threatening significance of these _associations_. On the other hand,
the question of propriety in dealing summarily with those who persist in
tearing up the tracks of a military road in time of war may confidently
be left to those who are experienced in such matters.
Indeed, with regard to the entire conduct of affairs by the Japanese
during this period, we may ask the question, and give the answer, of Mr.
Whigham:[28] “What, then, is Japan to do? Is she to sit down and watch
the Russian flood descending on her fields without attempting to set up a
barrier? The answer is very simple. Japan must take Korea and do it very
quickly, too.”
It was such a situation of extreme peril and emergency which compelled
the Japanese Government to secure formal recognition in an agreement
with the Korean Government—so far as such a thing as government then
existed in Korea—that should admit of no misunderstanding. This necessity
gave rise to the Conventions of February 23, 1904, and of August 22 of
the same year. The latter of these conventions was the logical sequence
and supplement of the former. By the first of the Protocols[29] it
was designed to secure necessary reforms in the administration of
Korea and, besides, such an alliance between the two governments that
Japan should guard the Korean Emperor and his people against foreign
aggressions in the future and secure for herself the furtherance of
her military operations against Russia. Of more permanent importance
still was the prevention in the future of all such experiences as she
had passed through in 1894-1895, and was passing through at the present
time. The Convention of February, however, was no sooner concluded than
His Majesty began plotting to prevent its going into effect. With the
conduct of military matters he was indeed powerless to interfere; but
every attempt at reform met with either his passive resistance or open
opposition. This attitude of his made necessary the additional provisions
stipulated in the supplementary Protocol of August 22, 1904.[30] In this,
provision was made for the appointment by the Korean Government of a
Japanese recommended by the Japanese Government as “Financial Adviser,”
and of some foreigner, also to be recommended by the Japanese Government,
as “Adviser to the Department of Foreign Affairs.” The appointees to
these positions were Mr. Megata and Mr. D. W. Stevens.
But still the intrigue and treachery of His Majesty went on. In spite of
the excellent service of Mr. Megata in straightening out the confusion
of the Korean finances, and in utter disregard of Mr. Stevens’ advices
and endeavors to make the new Protocols both appear, and actually to
be, greatly to the advantage of the Emperor and of his country, the
imperial ways remained unchanged. His own Foreign Ministers were either
disregarded or made tools of intrigue. Even after the Treaty of November,
1905, His Majesty sent secret telegrams from the Palace ordering the
Foreign Ministers of other Governments to pay no attention to the
directions of his own Minister of Foreign Affairs, while the latter was
arranging for the closing of the Legations according to the terms of
the Treaty. During the entire war he was in secret communication with
Japan’s enemies, while claiming Japan’s protection under the Protocols of
February and August, 1904. This treacherous correspondence was carried
on through emissaries at Shanghai; and large sums of money, which the
Japanese Financial Adviser had somehow to provide, were wasted upon
these futile efforts to change the course of events. Indeed, in this
correspondence and in the distribution of this money, it is probable
that the chief agent in Shanghai was the same person as the chief agent
of Russia herself.
The subsequent history of the relations of Japan and Korea, as these
relations resulted through the events of July, 1907, in establishing a
protectorate which placed all important Korean affairs, both internal and
foreign, under the control of the Japanese Resident-General, cannot be
understood or judged without keeping the necessity and the significance
of these Protocols steadily in mind. Of the Convention of February, 1904,
Lawrence significantly says:[31]
Japan took the earliest opportunity of regularizing her
position by a Protocol negotiated with the native Government,
and communicated with Tokyo to her Legations abroad on February
27th. In this, the last of the long series of diplomatic
agreements relating to the subject, the fiction of Korean
independence is still kept up, while the fact of Japanese
control is further accentuated. By the third Article Japan
“guarantees the independence and territorial integrity of the
Korean Empire”; and by the second she covenants to ensure “the
safety and repose of the Imperial Household of Korea.” The
Korean Government, on its part, covenants to adopt the advice
of Japan in regard to improvements in administration, and to
give full facilities for the promotion of any measures the
Japanese Government may undertake to protect Korea against
foreign aggressions or internal disturbances. It also agrees
that for the promotion of these objects Japan may occupy
strategic points in Korean territory.
The effect of this agreement has been to place the resources
of Korea at the disposal of Japan in the present war. The
victorious army which forced the passage of the Yalu so
brilliantly on May 1st was landed at Korean ports, concentrated
on Korean soil, and supplied from Korean harbors. In the
political sphere Korea has denounced, as having been made
under compulsion, all her treaties with Russia and all
concessions granted to Russian subjects. On the other hand,
Russia has declared that she will regard as null and void
all the acts of the Korean Government while under Japanese
tutelage, and her newspapers loudly proclaim that, if our
(English) neutrality were genuine, we should raise objections
against the Protocol, as being inconsistent with the Treaty
of 1902, whereby we, in conjunction with Japan, mutually
recognize the independence of Korea. In reality there is no
inconsistency, because, as we have just seen, it is clear
from the first Article of the Treaty that the independence is
not an ordinary independence, but a diplomatic variety which
was perfectly consistent with recurring interventions to ward
off foreign aggression and put down domestic revolt. In other
words, it was a dependent independence, or no independence
at all, and such it remains under the agreement of February,
1904. That instrument undoubtedly establishes a Japanese
Protectorate over Korea, and the beauty of Protectorates is
their indefiniteness. As Professor Nye, the great Belgian
jurist, says in his recently published work on _Le Droit
International_: “Le terme ‘protectorat,’ désigne la situation
créée par le traité de protection.... Le protectorat a plus ou
moins de développement; rien n’est fixé dans la théorie; il est
cependant un trait caracteristique commun aux Etats protégés
c’est qu’ils ne sont pas entièrement indépendants dans leurs
relations avec les autres Etats.” These words exactly fit the
condition of Korea under its recent agreement with Japan.
Indeed, the description might be extended to its internal
affairs also. Susceptibilities are soothed, and possibly
diplomatic difficulties are turned, by calling it independent;
but in reality it is as much under Japanese protection as Egypt
is under ours; all state-paper description to the contrary
notwithstanding.
The new Treaty of August 22, 1904, shows that this is fully understood at
Tokyo. A financial adviser and a diplomatic adviser are to be appointed
by the Korean Government on the recommendation of Japan, and nothing
important is to be done in their departments without their advice. No
treaties with Foreign Powers are to be concluded, and no concessions
to foreigners granted, without previous consultation with the Japanese
Government.
That the view of this authority as to the significance of the Conventions
of 1904 is not the view of any individual alone has been clearly
demonstrated by the acceptance of its conclusions, in a practical way,
though the official action of foreign governments since the date of the
conventions themselves.
In particular it is to be noted that the Government of the United States
has expressed an opinion touching the effect in international law upon
the status of Korea of the February and August Protocols which is
substantially identical with that of Professor Lawrence. Before there was
any occasion for a formal expression of opinion a significant indication
of the views of the Department of State upon the subject could be found
in the Foreign Relations for 1904. Over the Protocols as published
therein may be found the caption “Protectorate by Japan over Korea.”
(437 _f._) Later on, Secretary Root had occasion expressly to state this
opinion. This was when, in December, 1905, Mr. Min Yung-chan, whilom
Korean Minister to France, came to the United States for the purpose
of protesting against recognition by the United States of the Treaty
of November 17th of the same year. In a letter to Mr. Min, explaining
the reasons which made it impossible for the American Government not to
recognize the binding force of that instrument, the Secretary added that
there was another and a conclusive reason against interference in the
matter. This reason, he said, was to be found in the circumstance that
Korea had _previously_ concluded with Japan two agreements which, in
principle and in practice, established a Japanese Protectorate in Korea,
and to the force of which in that particular the Treaty of November 17
added nothing.
To this view of the virtual significance of these earlier Protocols
there is only to be opposed the demonstrably false assertions of the
now ex-Emperor and the opinions and affirmations—quite unwarranted as
the next chapter will show—of writers like Mr. Hulbert, Mr. Story, and
other so-called “foreign friends” of His Majesty. These assertions and
opinions are certainly not made any more credible by the willingness of
their authors to denounce the President and Acting Foreign Minister of
the United States in Korea, and, by implication, all the other heads of
foreign governments who neither share their opinion, nor approve of their
conduct in support of the opinion![32]
By the Treaty of Portsmouth the Russian Government not only definitely
relinquished all the political interests she had previously claimed to
possess in Korea, but also recognized in all important particulars the
rights acquired in the same country by Japan through the Conventions of
February and August, 1904. Article Second of the Treaty stipulates: “The
Imperial Russian Government, acknowledging that Japan possesses in Korea
paramount political, military and economical interests, engages neither
to obstruct nor interfere with the measures of guidance, protection and
control which the Imperial Government of Japan may find it necessary to
take in Korea.”
Thus did the war with Russia, which was fought over the relations
between Japan and Korea as an issue of supreme importance, terminate the
second main period in the history of these relations. The Chino-Japan
war removed forever that foreign influence which had continued through
centuries, not only to prevent the immediate realization of a true
national independence on the part of Korea, but also to unfit the Korean
Government to maintain such independence when conferred upon it as the
gift of another nation. The Russo-Japanese war terminated the attempt of
a more powerful foreign nation to supersede the controlling influence
of Japan in Korea. At the same time it gave a convincing further
demonstration of Korea’s inherent and hopeless inability to control
herself, under any existing conditions of her government or of her system
of civilization. Thus the provisions for a Japanese Protectorate, which
shall secure for both nations the largest possible measure of good,
offered to the Marquis Ito his difficult problem as Imperial Commissioner
to Korea in November, 1905.
CHAPTER XI
THE COMPACT
It will need no argument for those familiar with the habitual ways of
the Korean Government in dealing with foreign affairs to establish
the necessity that Japan should make more definite, explicit, and
comprehensive, the Protocols of February 23 and August 22, 1904.
Foreign affairs have always been with the Emperor and Court of Korea
a particularly favorable but mischievous sphere for intrigue and
intermeddling. The Foreign Office has never had any real control over
the agents of the government, who have been the tools of the Emperor in
their dealings with foreign Legations. The Korean Foreign Minister in
1905 was not an efficient and responsible representative of either the
intentions or the transactions of his own government; instructions were
frequently sent direct from the Palace to Ministers in other countries;
foreign Legations had, each one, a separate cipher to be used for
such communications; and there were several instances of clandestine
communication with agents abroad, even during the Russo-Japanese war.
To guard, therefore, against the repetition of occurrences similar to
those which had already cost her so dearly, Japan’s interests demanded
that her control over the management of Korea’s foreign affairs should be
undivided and unquestioned.
It was not, however, in the interests of Japan alone that the management
of Korea’s foreign affairs was to pass out of her own hands. It was
distinctly, as events are fast proving beyond a reasonable doubt, for
the advantage of Korea herself. In any valid meaning of the word, Korea
had never been “independent” of foreign influences, dominating over
her and corrupting the officials within her own borders. For centuries
these influences came chiefly from China; for a decade, chiefly from
Russia and other Western nations. The Treaty of 1905 was also, just as
distinctly—so, we believe, the events will ultimately prove—for the
advantage of these Western nations, and of the entire Far East.
It is, therefore, highly desirable, not only as vindicating the honor
of Marquis Ito and of the Japanese Government, but also as establishing
the Protectorate of Japan over Korea upon foundations of veracity and
justice, that the exact and full truth should be known and placed
on record before the world, concerning the Convention of November,
1905. This is the more desirable because of the gross and persistent
misrepresentations of the facts which have been repeated over and over
again—chiefly by the same persons—down to the time of the appearance of
the so-called Korean Commission at The Hague Conference of 1907.[33]
His Majesty the Emperor (now ex-Emperor) of Korea has, indeed, publicly
proclaimed his intention not to keep a treaty “made under duress” and
through fears of “personal violence”; he has also made it appear that
the signatures and the Imperial seal upon the document were fraudulently
obtained. Meantime, he has sedulously (and, we believe, with such
sincerity as his nature admits) cultivated and cherished the friendship
of the Japanese Resident-General who negotiated, and who has administered
affairs under, the Treaty. How he lost his crown, at the hands of his own
Ministry, for his last violation of the most solemn provisions of the
same treaty, is now a matter of universal history.
Marquis Ito arrived at Seoul, as the Representative of the Japanese
Government, to conclude a new Convention with Korea, during the first
week of November, 1905. He was the bearer of a letter from his own
Emperor to the Emperor of Korea, which frankly explained the object of
his mission. What follows is the substance of His Japanese Majesty’s
letter.
“Japan, in self-defence and for the preservation of the peace and
security of the Far East, had been forced to go to war with Russia;
but now, after a struggle of twenty months, hostilities were ended.
During their continuance the Emperor of Korea and his people, no doubt,
shared the anxiety felt by the Emperor and people of Japan. In the mind
of His Majesty, the Emperor of Japan, the most absorbing thought and
purpose now was to safeguard the future peace and security of the two
Empires, and to augment and strengthen the friendly relations existing
between them. Unfortunately, however, Korea was not yet in a state of
good defence, nor was the basis for a system of effective self-defence
yet created. Her weakness in these regards was in itself a menace to
the peace of the Far East as well as to her own security. That this
was unhappily the case was a matter of as much regret to His Majesty
as it could be to the Emperor of Korea; and for this reason the safety
of Korea was as much a matter of anxiety to him as was that of his own
country. His Majesty had already commanded his Government to conclude the
Protocols of February and August, 1904, for the defence of Korea. Now, in
order to preserve the peace which had been secured, and to guard against
future dangers arising from the defenceless condition of Korea, it was
necessary that the bonds which united the two countries should be closer
and stronger than ever before. Having this end in view, His Majesty had
commanded His Government to study the question and to devise means of
attaining this desirable result. The preservation and protection of the
dignity, privileges, and tranquillity of the Imperial House of Korea
would, as a matter of course, be one of the first considerations kept in
view.
“His Majesty felt sure that if the Emperor of Korea would carefully
consider the general situation and its bearing upon the interests and
welfare of his country and people, he would decide to take the advice now
earnestly tendered to him.”
It should be noticed that this address from His Imperial Majesty of Japan
to the Korean Emperor—the sincerity of which cannot be questioned—is
pervaded with the same spirit as that which has characterized the
administration, hitherto, of the Japanese Residency-General.
Marquis Ito informed the Korean Emperor that he would ask for another
audience in a few days. His Majesty consented, adding that in the
meantime he desired carefully to study the letter from the Emperor of
Japan.[34]
On the 15th of November, Marquis Ito had a private audience which lasted
about four hours, and in which he frankly explained the object of his
mission.... The Emperor began the interview by complaining of certain
injuries done by the Japanese civil and military authorities during the
war. He dwelt at length upon past events, saying, among other things,
that he had not wished to go to the Russian Legation in 1895, but had
been over-persuaded by those about his person.
Marquis Ito replied that as he would remain in Korea for some time, there
would be ample opportunity for a full exchange of views regarding the
matters to which His Majesty referred. At the present moment he felt it
to be his imperative duty to beg His Majesty to hear the particulars
of the mission with which he had been charged by his Imperial Master.
From 1885 onward, he went on to say, Japan had earnestly endeavored to
maintain the independence of Korea. Unfortunately, Korea herself had
rendered but little aid in the struggle which Japan had maintained in her
behalf. Nevertheless, these efforts had preserved His Majesty’s Empire,
and, although there might have been causes of complaint, such as those to
which His Majesty had just referred, in justice to Japan it should not be
forgotten that in the midst of the great struggle in which she had been
engaged, it was unhappily not possible wholly to avoid such occurrences.
If His Majesty would consider all the circumstances, he would undoubtedly
realize that in the midst of the absorbing anxiety of that momentous
contest and of the heavy burdens it imposed upon Japan, whatever fault
might attach to her as regarded the matters of which His Majesty had
spoken was at least excusable. Korea, on the other hand, had borne but
a small portion of the burden created by the necessity of defending
and maintaining a principle in which she was as deeply interested as
Japan—namely, the peace and security of the Far East. Turning to the
future, however, it could be clearly perceived that in order effectively
to ensure the future peace and security of the Far East, it was
imperatively necessary that the bonds uniting the two countries should
be drawn closer. For that purpose, and with that object in view, His
Majesty the Emperor of Japan had graciously entrusted him with the task
of explaining the means which, after mature and careful deliberation, it
had been concluded should be adopted.
The substance of the plan which had been thus formulated might be summed
up as follows: ... The Japanese Government, with the consent of the
Government of Korea, to have the right to control and direct the foreign
affairs of Korea, while the internal autonomy of the Empire would be
maintained; and, of course, His Majesty’s Government, under His Majesty’s
direction, would continue as at the present time.
Explaining the objects of the Agreement thus outlined, the Marquis
pointed out that it would effectively safeguard the security and prestige
of the Imperial House of Korea, while affording the surest means of
augmenting the happiness and prosperity of the people. For the reasons
stated, and for these alone, the Marquis went on to say, he strongly
advised the Emperor to accept this plan; and, taking into account
the general situation, and the condition of Korea in particular, he
earnestly hoped that His Majesty would consent. The Japanese Minister was
authorized to discuss the details with His Majesty’s Ministers.
The Emperor in reply expressed his appreciation of the manifestation of
sincere good-will on the part of the Emperor of Japan, and his thanks.
Although he would not absolutely reject the proposal, it was his earnest
desire to retain some outward form of control over the external affairs
of Korea. As to the actual exercise of such control by Japan, and in what
manner it should be exercised, he had no objections to urge.
Marquis Ito enquired what was meant by “outward form.”
The Emperor replied, “the right to maintain Legations abroad.”
The Marquis then stated that, in accordance with diplomatic rules and
usage, there was in that case no difference between the form and the
substance of control. Therefore he could not accept the suggestion.
If Korea were to continue to have Legations abroad, she would in fact
retain control of the external relations of the Empire. The _status quo_
would be perpetuated; there would be constant danger of the renewal of
past difficulties; and again the peace of the East would be threatened.
It was absolutely necessary that Japan should control and direct the
external relations of Korea. This decision was the result of most careful
investigations and deliberations; it could not be changed. Marquis Ito
further stated that he had brought a memorandum of the agreement which it
was desired to conclude; and this he then handed to the Emperor.
The Emperor, having read it, expressed his implicit trust in Marquis
Ito, saying that he placed more reliance upon what he said than upon
the representations of his own subjects. [It may seem a strange comment
upon the working of His Majesty’s mind, but all my observations and
experiences, while in Korea, lead me to believe in the veracity of this
declaration. To the last, the Emperor trusted the word of the Marquis
Ito.]... If, however, he accepted the agreement and retained no outward
form of control over Korean foreign affairs, the relations of Japan and
Korea would be like those of Austria and Hungary; or Korea’s condition
would be like that of one of the African tribes.
Marquis Ito begged leave to dissent. Austria and Hungary were ruled by
one monarch; whereas in this case His Majesty would still be Emperor
of Korea, and would continue as before to exercise his Imperial
prerogatives. As for the presumed resemblance to an African tribe,
that could hardly be considered in point; since Korea had a Government
established for centuries and therefore a national organization and forms
of administration such as no savage tribe possessed.
The Emperor expressed appreciation of what the Marquis said, but repeated
that he did not care for the substance, and only wished to retain some
external form of control over Korea’s foreign affairs. He therefore hoped
that the Marquis would inform his Emperor and the Japanese Government of
this wish and would induce them to change the plan proposed; this wish
he reiterated a number of times. [There were undoubtedly two reasons,
entirely valid from his point of view, for the endeavor to secure this
change. The first was the very natural desire to “save his face”; and the
second was the—with him—scarcely less natural desire to leave room for
intrigue to contest the scope of the terms agreed upon while claiming to
be faithful to their substance.]
The Marquis stated that he could not comply with the request of His
Majesty. The draft was the definitive expression of the views of the
Japanese Government after most careful consideration, and could not
be changed as His Majesty desired. He then quoted the Article in the
Portsmouth Treaty wherein Russia recognizes the paramount political,
commercial, and economic interests of Japan in Korea. There was only
one alternative, he added: either to accept or to refuse. He could not
predict what the result would be if His Majesty refused, but he feared
that it might be less acceptable than what he now proposed. If His
Majesty refused, he must clearly understand this.
The Emperor replied that he did not hesitate because he was ignorant
of this fact, but because he could not himself decide at that moment.
He must consult his Ministers and ascertain also “the intention of the
people at large.”
The Marquis replied that His Majesty was, of course, quite right in
desiring to consult his Ministers, but he could not understand what was
meant by consulting “the intention of the people.” Inasmuch as Korea did
not have a constitutional form of government, and consequently no Diet,
it seemed rather a strange proceeding to consult “the intention of the
people.” If such action should lead to popular ferment and excitement and
possibly public disturbances, he must respectfully point out that the
responsibility would rest with His Majesty.
Finally, after some further discussion, the Emperor requested Marquis Ito
to have Minister Hayashi (who held the power to negotiate the proposed
agreement) consult with his own Minister for Foreign Affairs. The result
could be submitted to the Cabinet; and when that body had reached a
decision His Majesty’s approval could be asked.
Marquis Ito said that prompt action was necessary, and requested His
Majesty to summon the Minister for Foreign Affairs at once, and to
instruct him to negotiate and sign the agreement. The Emperor replied
that he would give instructions to the Minister for Foreign Affairs
to that effect. Marquis Ito stated that he would remain awaiting the
conclusion of that agreement, and would again request His Majesty to
grant him an audience.
Before this first audience ended the Emperor again asked Marquis Ito to
persuade His Majesty of Japan to consent that Korea should retain some
outward form of control over her foreign affairs; but again Marquis Ito
refused. This repeated refusal of Japan’s Representative to concede
anything whatever as an abatement of his country’s control in the future
over Korea’s relations to foreign countries distinctly reveals the nature
of the only treaty that could then possibly have been concluded between
the two Powers. On the following day, the 16th of November, Marquis Ito
had a conference with all of the Cabinet Ministers, except the Minister
for Foreign Affairs, who on the same day began negotiations with Minister
Hayashi. Marquis Ito explained fully to the Korean Ministers the object
of his mission and the views of his Government.
On the 17th of November, at 11 A. M., all of the Korean Ministers went
to the Japanese Legation, lunched there, and conferred with Mr. Hayashi
until 3 o’clock, when they adjourned to the Palace and held a meeting
in the Emperor’s presence. Their decision was, finally, to refuse to
agree to the Treaty in the form in which it had been proposed. Marquis
Ito was taking dinner with General Hasegawa, when, at 7.30, he received
a message from Mr. Hayashi conveying this intelligence and a request to
come to the Palace.[35] Accordingly, at 8 o’clock, he went to the Palace
in company with General Hasegawa, the latter’s aide, and the three or
four mounted gendarmes, who accompanied Marquis Ito wherever he went.
_There were no other Japanese guards or soldiers in attendance, and none
in the immediate vicinity of the Palace. The gendarmes who accompanied
the Marquis did not enter the Palace precincts, and all the gates and
entrances were guarded as usual by Korean soldiers, Korean gendarmes and
Korean policemen._ Precautions had indeed been taken to preserve order in
the city, as some outburst of mob violence was possible. The necessity
of this precaution was shown later in the night when an attempt was made
to set fire to the house of Mr. Yi Wan-yong, Minister of Education (now
Prime Minister). It was only when the conference was ended that, at the
express request of the Korean Ministers, a small number of gendarmes was
summoned to accompany them to their homes. [This precaution will not seem
excessive, or threatening of violence to others, in the eyes of one who,
like myself, has spent a period of two months in Korea, characterized by
repeated attempts to assassinate the Ministers, who always went guarded
by Korean and Japanese gendarmes. See pp. 66 _ff._]
Upon arriving at the Palace, Marquis Ito was informed by Mr. Hayashi
that, although His Majesty had ordered the Cabinet to come to an
agreement which would establish a cordial _entente_ with Japan, and
although the majority of the Cabinet Ministers were ready to obey His
Majesty’s commands, Mr. Han, the Prime Minister, persistently refused
to obey. Marquis Ito thereupon, through the Minister of the Household,
requested a private audience with His Majesty.
It should be explained here that during all of the proceedings, which
took place in the rooms on the lower floor of the “Library,” the Emperor
was in his rooms in the upper story, and was never personally approached
by any one except, as hereafter stated, by his own Ministers. It may also
be added, in explanation of the time of the conference, that it had been
His Majesty’s invariable practice for years to transact important public
business at night. He turned night into day in that regard and the
Cabinet Ministers had customarily been obliged to attend in turn at the
Palace and remain there all night long.
To the request for a private audience the Emperor replied that although
he would be pleased to grant an audience at once, he was very tired and
was suffering from sore throat—the plea of indisposition being one to
which he is accustomed to resort for avoiding audiences. Therefore he
preferred that Marquis Ito should consult with his Ministers whom he
would instruct to negotiate and conclude an agreement establishing a
cordial _entente_ between Korea and Japan. At the same time that the
Emperor requested the Marquis to consult with the Cabinet for that
purpose, the Minister of the Household informed the Cabinet Ministers
that His Majesty commanded them to negotiate with Marquis Ito.
Marquis Ito then turned to the Prime Minister, and, repeating what
Mr. Hayashi had told him, enquired whether the statement correctly
represented his attitude. The Prime Minister replied that it was correct.
His Majesty had often commanded him to come to an understanding with
the Japanese Minister, but he had refused. Then the other Ministers
had accused him of disloyalty in disobeying His Majesty’s commands. He
himself could not but feel that the accusation was well founded and, on
that account, he wished immediately to resign his office and to await the
Imperial punishment for his disobedience. As he had informed Marquis Ito
the day before, although he was perfectly well aware that Korea could not
maintain her independence by her own unaided efforts, he still wished
to retain the outward semblance of control over the Nation’s foreign
relations.
Thereupon Marquis Ito said that the last thought in his mind would be
to try to force the Prime Minister to do any thing which would destroy
his country. The Minister had said, however, that he wished to resign
because he had been disloyal in disobeying the Emperor’s commands. It
did not seem to him, the Marquis, that this was either a dignified, or
a sensible course for a Minister of State to adopt. The management of
public affairs required decision. If the Prime Minister could not come
to some understanding with Japan’s representatives, as his own Majesty
the Emperor had commanded him to do, he was seriously jeopardizing his
country’s interests. The Marquis could not believe that this was genuine
loyalty. There was only one alternative before the Prime Minister, either
to obey the Imperial order, or, carefully considering the gravity of the
situation, to do what he could to change the Imperial opinion. He then
asked the Prime Minister to request the other Ministers, in accordance
with the Emperor’s command, conveyed through the Minister of the
Household, to give their views regarding the proposed agreement. This the
Prime Minister proceeded to do.
The Minister for Foreign Affairs, Mr. Pak Chi-sun (afterwards Acting
Prime Minister) stated that, as he had informed the Japanese Minister,
he was opposed to the treaty and did not wish to negotiate it; but if he
was ordered to do so, he would comply. The Marquis asked what he meant by
“ordered”; did he mean an Imperial order? Mr. Pak assented.
The Minister of Finance, Mr. Min Yong-ki, said that he was opposed to the
treaty. (He remained in office for a year and a half after the conclusion
of the treaty, considering, no doubt, that the Imperial command absolved
him from responsibility.)
The Minister of Education, Mr. Yi Wan-yong (now Prime Minister), replied
that he had already expressed his opinion fully in His Majesty’s
presence. The request of Japan was the logical result of existing
conditions in the East. The diplomacy of Korea, always changing,
had forced Japan into a great war which had entailed on her heavy
sacrifices, and in which, finally, she had been victorious. Korea must
accept the result and aid in maintaining the future peace of the East by
loyally co-operating with Japan.
The Minister of Justice, Mr. Yi Ha-yung (who had been Minister for
Foreign Affairs during the war), stated that, in his opinion, the
Protocols of February 23 and August 22, 1904, already gave Japan
practically all that she now asked. Consequently he did not think that
the new Treaty was necessary.
Marquis Ito then said to him that the opinion he had expressed at the
conference of the previous day was somewhat different, and that he
had appeared at that time to be in favor of the Treaty. The Minister
assented, but added that then, as now, he thought that the Protocols
would have been amply sufficient if Korea herself had faithfully observed
the obligations they imposed upon her.
The Minister of War, Mr. Yi Kun-tak, stated that in His Majesty’s
presence he had supported the Minister of Education in the position
described by the latter. Finally, however, he had cast his vote in favor
of the Prime Minister’s proposal that they should insist upon a Treaty
which retained to Korea the outward form of control over her foreign
relations. He would now agree to the proposed treaty, however.
The Minister of Home Affairs, Mr. Yi Chi-yung, said that having
negotiated and signed the Protocol of February 23, 1904, he had naturally
associated himself with the Minister of Education in His Majesty’s
presence, and he now did the same.
The Minister of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry, Mr. Kwon Chong-hiun,
said that he had seconded the proposal of the Minister of Education and
was of course in favor of the Treaty. He desired, however, to suggest
several amendments.
After some further consultation, Marquis Ito turned to the Prime
Minister, and said that there were but two of the Ministers opposed to
the Treaty. The recognized method of deciding such questions was by a
majority vote, and, as the Prime Minister had seen, the majority of the
Cabinet were in favor of negotiating and concluding the Treaty. It was
the duty of the Prime Minister accordingly, bearing in mind the Imperial
command, to proceed to accomplish this result in due form. Thereupon
the Prime Minister, saying something about disloyalty, burst into tears
and went hastily into the next room. After a few moments Marquis Ito
followed him, and found him still greatly agitated. The Marquis spoke
to him gently, and, repeating his former arguments, tried to persuade
him that it was his duty as a loyal servant to obey the Imperial command
by assisting in the negotiation and conclusion of the Treaty. Finding,
however, that his efforts were fruitless, Marquis Ito returned to the
other room, leaving Mr. Han alone.[36]
After Mr. Han’s disappearance from the scene, and upon the Marquis’
return to the room, the latter addressed the Minister of the Household,
stating that, as he had seen, the Cabinet Ministers, with two exceptions,
had expressed their willingness to accept the Treaty in principle; and of
the two dissenting Ministers one, the Minister for Foreign Affairs, had
said that he would sign the Treaty if he received the Imperial command
to do so. Turning then to the Ministers, he enquired whether they were
willing to proceed as commanded by His Majesty, with the consideration
of the Treaty, and of the amendments, which several of their number had
expressed a desire to present. The Ministers replied that they were
ready to do so, but wished the Minister of the Household to be present.
Accordingly the deliberations were conducted in the presence of that
official.
The Treaty was then considered in detail. The Minister of Education
proposed an amendment, stipulating that the functions of control to be
exercised by Japan should be confined _exclusively_ to administration of
the foreign relations of Korea. Marquis Ito replied that he could not
accept this amendment, but after some discussion proposed the insertion
of the word “primarily” in the Article.[37]
The Minister of Justice proposed an amendment stipulating that Japan
would guarantee to maintain the peace, security and prestige of the
Imperial Household. This Marquis Ito accepted and wrote the amendment
with his own hand.
After some further deliberation the treaty in its amended form was agreed
to. The Minister of the Household, accompanied by Mr. Yi Chi-yung,
Minister of Home Affairs, then took the document to the Emperor. After
a time they returned, saying that His Majesty was satisfied with the
instrument as amended and gave it his sanction. He instructed them to
say, however, that he desired to add one more amendment. It was to insert
in the preamble a stipulation to the effect that when Korea became able
again to exercise the functions surrendered to Japan by the Treaty, she
would be entitled to resume the control of her foreign relations. To this
proposal Marquis Ito assented, and again wrote the amendment with his own
hand. The two Ministers took the completed instrument to His Majesty,
and in a short time returned saying His Majesty was “quite satisfied and
approved the Treaty.”
The copyists then began preparing the copies for signature, and the
Minister of Foreign Affairs went to the telephone and ordered the clerk
in charge to bring the seal of the Foreign Office to the Palace.
The Minister of the Household, who had again repaired to the Imperial
presence, returned while this was going on with the following message
from the Emperor to Marquis Ito, which is here repeated verbatim:—“Now
that this new Agreement has been concluded our countries should mutually
congratulate each other. We feel tired, as we are not well, and shall
retire. You, who have reached an advanced age and have remained awake
until this late hour, must also be greatly fatigued. Please, therefore,
return to your home and sleep well.”
Marquis Ito returned thanks for this gracious message, but remained
until the Treaty had been copied and duly signed by Mr. Pak, the Korean
Minister for Foreign Affairs, and by Mr. Hayashi, the Japanese Minister.
He then returned to his hotel. In a short time the seal of the Foreign
Office was brought to the Palace, and Mr. Pak, with his own hand, affixed
it to the four copies of the instrument which had been made.[38]
The conclusion of the Treaty was not followed by any noticeably great
public excitement in Seoul. Crowds collected in the streets, and there
were one or two trifling brawls, but nothing of great consequence.
The policing of the streets was entirely in the hands of the Korean
gendarmes and the mixed force of Korean and Japanese police under the
direction of Mr. Maruyama, Police Adviser to the Korean Government. Nor,
in order to preserve the public peace, was there at any time necessary
any exhibition of a large force, either of police or of gendarmes in any
one locality. They went about singly or in twos or threes, and the crowds
were, as a rule, orderly.
The Convention thus concluded on November 17, 1905, with the object of
strengthening the principle of solidarity which unites the two Empires,
provides that the complete control and direction of Korean affairs shall
hereafter rest with the Japanese Government, and that a Resident-General
shall reside in Seoul, “primarily for the purpose of taking charge of
and directing matters relating to diplomatic affairs.” It also provides
for the appointment of Residents, subordinate to the Resident-General,
who shall occupy the open ports and such other places in Korea as the
Japanese Government may deem necessary. Article IV stipulates that
all treaties and agreements subsisting between Japan and Korea, not
inconsistent with the provisions of the Convention itself, shall continue
in force. Furthermore, Japan engages to maintain the welfare and dignity
of the Imperial House of Korea.
This is the substance of the Convention of 1905. Its effect was to
substitute Japan for Korea in all official relations with foreign Powers,
past as well as future. In other words, foreign nations must hereafter
deal directly and exclusively with Japan in everything affecting their
diplomatic relations with Korea. Japan, on her part, is equally bound
to respect and maintain all treaty rights and all treaty engagements
granted by Korea in the past. The “principle of solidarity which unites
the two Empires” implies, and in fact actually includes, even more
than this. While the functions of Japan’s direct and exclusive control
were primarily confined to matters connected with the direction of
foreign affairs, some measure of control over Korea’s domestic affairs
also is necessarily implied. It is not to be supposed, for example,
that Japan could permit internal disorders, or the perpetuation of
domestic abuses, or, in brief, any of those disturbing conditions which
had hitherto prevented Korean progress and development. International
control, dissociated from an orderly and progressive domestic policy,
is not practicable; it is not even conceivable. The complications
and embarrassments which would inevitably arise from such a complete
dissociation of the two functions of government would far outweigh
the advantages. One of the most fruitful sources of international
difficulties in Korea has always been found in domestic misgovernment.
Having assumed the responsibility and the obligations incident to the
direction of foreign affairs, Japan has the right to ask, and, if need
be, to insist, that her task shall not be made heavier by Korea herself.
This did not, indeed, imply, that Japan should assume charge of the
administrative machinery of the Korean Government, but that she should
enjoy the right to have recourse to those measures of guidance which
naturally and properly fall within the sphere of the duties she had
assumed. Fortunately, however, any discussion relating to this question
must of necessity be purely academic; since not only the Convention of
November 17th, but also the Protocols and other Agreements concluded
before that time give ample warrant for everything Japan has attempted or
accomplished in this regard.
If corroborative evidence is needed for the account just given of the
negotiations which ended in the Convention of November, 1905, and upon
the basis of which Marquis Ito, as the Representative of the Japanese
Government, had been conducting his administration in Korea up to the
time of the new Convention of July, 1907, it is afforded in fullest
measure in the following manner. A notable “Memorial” regarding the
circumstances under which the earlier agreement was formed was presented
to the Korean Emperor on the fifteenth of December of the same year; this
document lends the authority of all the other chief actors in this event
to every important detail of the account as already given.[39]
The memorialists were Pak Chi-sun, former Minister for Foreign Affairs;
Yi Wan-yong, Minister of Education; Kwan Chung-hiun, Minister of
Agriculture, Commerce and Industry; Yi Chi-yung, Minister of Home
Affairs; and Yi Kun-tak, Minister of War. The occasion of the memorial
was the agitation against the Treaty which was then at its height, and on
account of which these five Ministers were being denounced in petitions
to the Throne, and in the public press, as traitors to their country.
The purpose of the memorial was to show that the actual responsibility
for the conclusion of the Treaty rested with the Emperor himself. By
relating all the circumstances in detail (in particular the occurrences
at the conference on the evening of November 17th) the memorialists
brought this fact out into the boldest prominence. Their memorial was, in
effect, both a charge which fixed the responsibility for the Treaty on
the Emperor, and a challenge to the Emperor to deny that the Treaty was
concluded in accordance with his own orders. It was a challenge which His
Majesty did not accept; on the contrary, by approving the memorial, as he
did formally, he acknowledged the truth of the statements it contained.
_It was, indeed, officially published at the time, as approved by the
Emperor._[40] Moreover, this memorial was prepared by its authors and
presented to the Throne without the previous knowledge of the Japanese
authorities. In fact, it contained certain interesting and important
details of which they then learned for the first time.
The memorialists began with the statement that, by reason of His
Majesty’s generosity, they are entrusted with the responsibilities of
Ministers of State, although they do not merit such distinction. They
have seen the petitions denouncing them to the Emperor as traitors. Those
petitions affirm that the state has been destroyed; that the people
have become slaves; and that Korean territory is now the property of
another state. These opinions are indeed almost too absurd to be noticed;
but since they affect the independence and dignity of the nation, the
memorialists cannot permit them to pass without protest. The new Treaty
with Japan does not change the title of the Empire or affect its real
independence. The prestige of the Imperial House remains as before;
the social fabric of the Empire is unaffected; and the country is in a
peaceful condition. The only change is that the management of the foreign
affairs of the country has been placed under the control of a neighboring
state. Besides, the Treaty which brings about this result is by no means
a new arrangement. It is the direct result of the Protocols concluded in
1904, and does not differ from them in object or in principle. If these
persons who now so loudly proclaim their patriotism are really sincere
and courageous men, why did they not denounce those Protocols when
they were made and maintain their opposition with their lives? None of
them did that then; yet now they clamor for the abolition of all these
arrangements and for the restoration of the old order of things. It is
impossible to agree with them.
We desire, the memorialists go on to say, now to state the actual facts
of the conclusion of the new Treaty:
When the Japanese Envoy arrived in Korea all the people,
even the children, knew that a grave crisis had arisen. And
on the 15th of November when Your Majesty received the Envoy
he presented a most important document. On the following day
the Prime Minister, with the other members of the Cabinet,
except the Minister for Foreign Affairs, conferred with the
Envoy; while the Minister for Foreign Affairs did the same
with the Japanese Minister. At the former conference Sim
San-kiun, Imperial Treasurer (former Prime Minister and one
of the Emperor’s favorites), was also present. We discussed
the matter fully with the Envoy, but did not agree to the
proposals he made. In the evening we were received in audience
by your Majesty and reported all that had occurred. We stated
to your Majesty that if we went to the Japanese Legation the
next day, as had been proposed, we should continue to refuse
to accede to the Japanese proposals. On the next day, we went
in a body to the Legation and there conferred at length with
the Minister upon the subject. Finally, as we still refused to
concur in what the Minister proposed, he stated that further
conference would be a waste of time; that your Majesty alone
had authority to decide, and that he had asked for an audience
through the Minister of the Imperial Household. Thereupon the
whole party repaired to the Palace. Your Majesty received the
members of the Cabinet in audience, and we reported what had
happened at the Legation, and assured Your Majesty that we were
still prepared to continue to refuse to accede to the Japanese
demands. Your Majesty expressed anxiety regarding the course to
be adopted, and said that, as we could not refuse positively,
it would be better to postpone negotiations.
Then Yi Wan-yong addressed Your Majesty. He said that the
matter was one which vitally affected the state; and that all
of the vassals and servants of Your Majesty must refuse to
accept terms injurious to the state. But the relationship of
the monarch to his vassals is like that of a father to his
sons, and therefore the members of the Cabinet were bound by
every tie of duty to speak frankly to their Master. He must,
therefore, call His Majesty’s attention to the fact that the
visit of the Envoy to Korea, and the coming of the Japanese
Minister to the Palace that evening, had one object—and one
only—namely, the conclusion of the Treaty. Therefore it was
necessary to decide at once upon what was to be done; the
matter did not admit of procrastination. It is easy for us
eight Ministers to say “No”; but our refusal alone does not
decide the matter. We are vassals merely, and only the word of
the monarch is final. The Envoy will undoubtedly ask for an
audience. When that occurs, if Your Majesty continues firmly
to refuse to the end, it is all right. But if Your Majesty’s
generosity should at last induce you to yield, what shall be
done then? This is a question which we must consider and settle
beforehand. When Your Majesty received us in audience last
evening you expressed no opinion.
As the other Ministers said nothing, Yi Wan-yong went on to
explain that what he meant by studying the subject beforehand
was to examine the provisions of the Convention, several of
which he was of opinion should be changed. Concerning such
matters it was necessary to consult and to come to some
decision beforehand.
Then Your Majesty said that Marquis Ito had informed you that
if we wished to modify the wording of the Convention there was
a way to do so. Your Majesty thought that if we rejected the
Convention categorically, the good relations of Korea and Japan
could not be maintained, and, in Your Majesty’s opinion, it was
possible to have some of the Articles changed. Therefore, what
Yi Wan-yong had proposed was proper.
Upon that Kwan Chung-hiun said that the Minister of Education
had not advised His Majesty to accept the Convention, but to
consider the matter upon the supposition that some amendment
was possible. Your Majesty replied that you understood that,
but that the difference was not of practical consequence. The
other Ministers expressed the same opinion. Your Majesty then
called for a draft of the Convention and asked for opinions
regarding the amendments which should be made.
The memorial then goes on to consider the amendments[41] which it was
thought would be desirable, and which were those subsequently proposed at
the conference with Marquis Ito. The Emperor approved these amendments
and himself suggested an amendment to the effect that in Article I of
the convention the word “sole” in the sentence “shall have sole control”
should be omitted. [This word, it may be remarked in passing, appeared in
the original draft, but was not included in the Article as finally agreed
to.]
Finally, when these deliberations terminated, the Ministers collectively
addressed the Emperor, and stated that although they had conferred upon
the adoption of possible amendments, they were still prepared, if His
Majesty so ordered them, to refuse altogether to accept the Japanese
proposals. In reply the Emperor commanded them not to reject the Treaty
finally and conclusively. On leaving, Mr. Han, speaking as Prime
Minister, and Mr. Pak, as Minister for Foreign Affairs, stated that they
would not disobey His Majesty’s commands.
Then follows the account of the Conference with Mr. Hayashi, in which it
is stated that the Prime Minister, while acknowledging that the Emperor
had ordered him and his colleagues to come to some arrangement with the
Japanese Minister, refused to consider any of the various proposals made
by the latter. After that Marquis Ito arrived and the account of what
happened subsequently, as given in the memorial, is the same in all
essential details as that related in the first part of this chapter.[42]
With regard to this Treaty as a whole no advocate of Japan will, of
course, claim that it was entered into by Korea with a willing heart—much
less, in a jubilant spirit. It is seldom, indeed, that treaties of any
sort are concluded between two countries with apparently conflicting
interests, where both are equally well satisfied with their terms. In all
cases in which one party is compelled on grounds of expediency, or of
fear that greater evils will follow the rejection of the terms proposed
by the other party, there is a sense in which it may be said that the
will is not free, but that the deed is done “under a sort of compulsion.”
But if all treaties made under such conditions may be repudiated when
conditions are changed, or if either of the parties to a treaty may
act with treachery, and without punishment, when called upon to carry
out faithfully the contracts thus entered into, the peace of the world
cannot be secured or even promoted by any number of treaties. A feeling
of regret and chagrin, especially on the part of the official classes
and, indeed, of the educated men of Korea in general, was to be expected.
So far as it was sincere and unselfish, the feeling was honorable; and
for it the Resident-General and all those agreeing with his policy have
never shown any lack of respect. But, as has already been made clear,
the important thing with the millions of Korea is not, who are Cabinet
Ministers, or who manages the foreign affairs of the country, or even who
is Emperor; for them the important thing is the character of the local
magistrates and the amount of their “squeezes.”
Protests and petitions followed the enactment of the Treaty of November,
1905. The Emperor refused to receive the petitions or to give audience to
the petitioners. And when two men, among the most sincere and blameless
of his subjects—General Min Yung-whong and Mr. Choi Ik-hiun—persisted
in petitioning to be punished (as would have been in accordance with
Korean custom under similar circumstances) for their disobedience to the
Emperor’s commands in refusing to accept the Treaty, the Emperor declined
to punish them. The petitioners then transferred their efforts from the
Palace to the Supreme Court, and were disappointed there also. One of
them, perhaps both, undertook to punish themselves by suicide. General
Min thus became the typical martyr of the period. He is described by one
who knew him well as “a man of amiable character, of dignified manners,
and pleasing address. He was known at one time as the ‘good Min,’ to
distinguish him from the other members of the family to which the late
Queen belonged.” But it has already been shown that, during the entire
course of Korea’s history, such men have almost always been without
sufficient influence, or strength of character, to serve their country
well and escape death—usually, at the hands of the Emperor or their
rivals, sometimes, however, by their own hands. For a time the air was
full of rumors of suicide and uprisings; but in fact there was little of
anything of the kind, even in Seoul; the stories of wholesale suicides
are false. Beyond Seoul, and outside of a few of the larger towns in
which greater numbers of the Yang-bans resided, there was scarcely any
excitement of any kind. The Treaty then went into effect, on the whole
quietly, under Marquis Ito who had negotiated it as the Representative of
Japan.
In this way the Japanese Government in Korea was substituted for the
Korean Government in all matters affecting the relations of foreign
countries, and their nationals, to the peninsula. The retirement of the
Foreign Legations followed logically and as a matter of course. It is
needless to say that this change of responsibility for the conduct of
these relations was accepted without dissent or formal protest from the
Governments of the civilized world. Indeed, with the exception of Russia,
all the nations supremely interested had acknowledged already that, under
the Protocols of 1904, Korea had lost its claim to be recognized as an
independent state in respect of its foreign affairs.
CHAPTER XII
RULERS AND PEOPLE
A just appreciation of the mental and moral characteristics of alien
races is a delicate and difficult task to achieve, even for the
experienced student of such subjects. From others it is scarcely fair, no
matter how favorable the opportunities for observation may have been, to
expect any large measure of real success in the accomplishment of this
task. The more important reasons for the failure of most attempts in
race psychology may be resolved into the following two: a limitation of
the observer’s own experiences, which prevents sympathy and, therefore,
breadth of interpretation; and the inability to rise above the more
strictly personal point of view. In both these respects, women are on
the whole decidedly inferior to men; accordingly, their account of the
ethnic peculiarities—of the ideas, motives, and morals—of foreign peoples
is customarily less trustworthy. The inquirer after a judicial estimate
of the native character will find this fact amply illustrated in Korea.
But what is more weighty in its influence as bearing upon such a problem
as that now under discussion is this: all the inherent difficulties
are enhanced when it is required to understand and appreciate an
Oriental race by a member of a distinctively Western civilization.
It is without doubt true that all men, of whatever race or degree of
civilization, are essentially alike; they constitute what certain
authorities in anthropology have fitly called “a spiritual unity.” But
for the individual who cannot expect to find within himself whatever
is necessary to understand and interpret this unity, and especially
for the observer who does not care even to detect and recognize the
existence of such a unity, the difference between Orient and Occident is
a puzzle—perpetually baffling and seemingly insoluble.
Now in some not wholly unimportant aspects of Korean character and Korean
civilization, these difficulties exist in an exaggerated form. Korea
is old in its enforced ignorance, sloth, and corruption; but Korea is
new to rawness, in its response to the stimulus of foreign and Western
ideas, and in its exposure to the observation, either careless and casual
or patient and studious, of visitors and residents from abroad. Korea
has not yet been awakened to any definite form of intelligent, national
self-consciousness. At the same time, neither its material resources,
nor its physical characteristics, nor its history and antiquities, nor
its educational possibilities, nor the distinctive spirit of its people,
have ever been at all thoroughly investigated by others. No wonder,
then, that the views expressed by the “oldest residents” in Korea
regarding the characteristics of its rulers and its people—Emperor, late
Queen, Yang-bans, pedlers, and peasants (for there is almost no middle
class)—are strangely conflicting. Diverse and even contradictory traits
of character are, with equal confidence and on the basis of an equally
long and intimate acquaintance, ascribed by different persons to all
these classes.
The true and satisfactory account of these differences of opinion is not,
however, to be found by wholly denying the justness of either of the
opposite points of view. Contradictions are inherent in that very type of
character of which the Koreans afford so many striking examples. Indeed,
all peoples, when at ascertain stage of race-culture, and the multitudes
in all civilizations, are just that—bundles of confused and conflicting
ideas, impulses, and practices, which have never been unified into a
consistent “character.” The average Korean is not only liable to be
called, he is liable actually _to be_, kindly and yet cruel, generous
and yet intensely avaricious, with a certain sense of honor and yet
hopelessly corrupt in his official relations. Accordingly, as one puts
emphasis on this virtue to the exclusion or suppression of that vice, or
turns the eye upon the dark and disgusting side of the picture and shuts
out the side that might afford pleasure and hope, will one’s estimate be
made of the actual condition and future prospects of the nation.
But let us begin our brief description with the man who has been for
more than a generation the chief ruler of Korea, the now ex-Emperor. He
is a typical Korean—especially in respect of his characteristic weakness
of character, his taste for and adeptness at intrigue, his readiness to
deceive and corrupt others, and himself to be deceived and corrupted. For
all this no specially occult reasons need to be assigned. With a weak
nature, his youth spent under the pernicious influence of eunuchs and
court concubines and hangers-on, his manhood dominated by an unceasing
and bloody feud between his wife and his father, his brief period of
“independence” one orgy of misrule, and his latest years controlled by
sorceresses, soothsayers, low-born and high-born intriguers, and selfish
and unwise foreign advisers: what but incurably unsound character,
uncontrollable instability of conduct, and a destiny fated to be full of
disaster, could be expected from such a man so placed?
The father of the ex-Emperor was Yi Ha-eung, Prince of Heung Song, who
was long the so-called “Regent” or “Prince-Parent,” and is best known in
history as the “Tai Won Kun.” It has been said of him that “he was the
grandson of a great and unfortunate crown prince, the great-grandson of a
famous king, the nephew of another king, and the father of still another
king.” The lineal ancestor of the Tai Won Kun was Yong-jong, who reigned
from 1724 to 1776. This sovereign quarrelled with his own son and had
him put to death as insane; but other issue failing, the crown descended
through the murdered crown prince, and from him through three lines of
monarchs. Until his son was chosen to occupy the throne, the Tai Won Kun,
although he had married into the powerful Min family, does not seem to
have exercised much influence in politics. But in 1864, on the death of
the king, without male issue the Dowager Queen Cho, by what is reported
to have been a not altogether legitimate procedure, proclaimed the second
son of the Tai Won Kun, then a boy of only twelve years, as the successor
to the throne.
Little is exactly known as to the care or education of the boyish king
during his earliest years. It is commonly reported that he was fond of
outdoor sports, especially of archery, and disinclined to study. Yet he
is reputed to be a fine Chinese penman and to be well acquainted with the
Chinese classics. His father was a strict disciplinarian and, although
he was never legally in control of affairs during his son’s minority,
his influence was dominant so long as he kept on good terms with the
wily Queen Dowager and the Ministers of her selection. The failure of
all foreign attempts to enter into friendly relations with the Koreans,
and the persecution and slaughter of foreign Christian priests and of
thousands of Korean Christians during this period, are customarily
attributed to the influence of the Tai Won Kun.
When thirteen years of age, the new king was married to a girl selected
for him from the Min family. But until 1873 his position as ruler was
only nominal; on the attainment of his majority, however, the deadly
struggle between the wife and the father, the Queen and the Prince
Parent, began to be revealed. A word as to the character of the woman
is necessary in this place, in order to understand the conduct of the
King and, as well, the recent history of Korea. The Queen was, without
doubt, an unusually gifted and attractive woman, with the ability to
attach others to her, both men and women, in a powerful way. But a more
unscrupulous and horribly cruel character has rarely disgraced a throne,
whether in ancient or in modern times. Her rivals among the women of the
court were tortured and killed at her command; the adherents of the Tai
Won Kun were decapitated and their bodies thrown into the streets or
their heads used to festoon the gateway. One of the Koreans acquainted
with court affairs during her reign informed a friend of the writer that,
by careful calculation, he had reckoned the number of 2,867 persons put
to death as the victims of her personal hatred and ambition. The number
seems incredible, and there is no way to verify it; but no one who knows
the history of the Korean Court, even down to very recent years, will
assert that it cannot be correct. The tragic death of this woman, not
improperly, drew temporarily a veil over these atrocities. But their
existence is a part of the proof that, pernicious as was much of the
father’s influence over the king, the influence of the wife and her
family was yet more pernicious.
It was under influences such as these that the royal character of
Yi-Hy-eung, now ex-Emperor, developed, and that all the earlier part of
his reign was concluded. The result was to be expected—namely, an amiable
and weak nature rendered deceitful, cruel, and corrupt. The impression
made by his presence—as already described (see p. 46 _f._)—is not one
of dignity and strength of character; but the voice is pleasant, the
smile is winsome, the willingness to forgive and to do a good turn, if
either or both can be done without too much sacrifice or inconvenience,
is prompt and motived by kindly feeling. His Majesty is usually ready
to listen without malignant anger or lasting resentment to unwelcome
advice and even to stern rebuke. On the other hand, as already said, he
is a master of intrigue; and more than once, until very lately, he has
succeeded in quite surpassing at their own tricks the wily foreigners who
thought to get an advantage over him. On the other hand, his ignorance
and credulity have often rendered him an easy victim to the intrigue of
others. As one foreign minister, a stanch friend, said of him: “You may
give His Majesty the best advice, the only sensible advice possible under
the circumstances; he will assent cordially to all you say, and you leave
him confident that your advice will be followed. Then some worthless
fellow comes in, tells him something else, and what you have said is all
wiped off the slate.”
[Illustration: The Ex-Emperor and Present Emperor.]
In spite of his natural amiability this ruler has frequently shown
a cold-blooded and calculating cruelty, made more conspicuous
by ingratitude and treachery; and his reign has been throughout
characterized by a callous disregard of the sufferings of the people
through the injustice of his own minions. To quote again the estimate of
a foreign minister: “His Majesty loves power, but seems color-blind when
it comes to the faculty of distinguishing between the true and the false.
He would rather have one of the Government Departments pay 20,000 _yen_
in satisfaction of a debt which he owes than pay 5,000 _yen_ out of his
own purse.[43] And he allows himself to be cheated with the same sense
of toleration which he has for those who cheat the Government, provided
that the culprit has the saving grace of a pleasing deportment.” One of
his most able and upright Korean officials once declared: “It is true
I am devoted to His Majesty, and I am sure he likes me; but if I were
to be executed for some crime of which I was completely innocent, and a
friend were to come to His Majesty, while he was at dinner, and implore
his intercession, if it meant any danger, even the slightest, to him, he
would leave me to my fate and go on eating with a good appetite.” During
the Boxer troubles in China a plot was devised by the reigning favorite
of the Emperor, Yi Yong-ik, to kill all the foreigners in Korea; the
plot was exposed, but the favorite did not suffer in his influence over
the Emperor. Over and over again, in earlier days, the missionaries have
appealed to him in vain to secure their converts against robbery and
death at the hands of imperial favorites. It was formerly his custom to
have at stated intervals large numbers of persons executed—inconvenient
witnesses, political suspects, enemies of men in power. This custom of
indiscriminate “jail-cleaning” was, as far as it was safe and allowable
under the growing foreign influences, continued down toward the present
time.
That the foregoing account of the character of the man who came to the
throne of Korea, as a boy of twelve, in 1864, and abdicated this throne
in 1907, is a true picture needs no additional evidence to that now
available by the world at large. Strangely inconsistent in some of its
features as it may seem to be, the portrait is unmistakably true to life.
No wonder then, that, after exhausting all his resources of advice,
rebuke, and warning, the Resident-General was regretfully forced to
this conclusion: no cure for the temperament and habits of His Majesty
of Korea could possibly be found. But this had long been the conclusion
of his own Cabinet Ministers and all others among the wiser of the
Korean officials. It was finally by these Ministers, without the orders,
consent, or even knowledge of the Marquis Ito, that in order to save
the country from more serious humiliation and disaster, movements were
initiated to secure his abdication of the throne he had disgraced for
more than forty years.
As to the Korean ruling classes generally, the Yang-bans so-called, it
may be said that for centuries they have been, with few exceptions, of a
character to correspond with their monarchs. The latter have also been,
with few exceptions, such in character as to represent either the weak
side or the corrupt and cruel side, or both, of the ruler just described.
This truth of “like king, like nobles,” was amply illustrated by the case
of Kwang-ha, in the early years of the seventeenth century. When the monk
Seung-ji induced this king to build the so-called “Mulberry Palace,”
thousands of houses were razed, the people oppressed with taxation,
and the public offices sold in order to raise the funds. When the same
monarch, yielding to the influences of his concubine and her party,
committed the infamy of expelling the Queen-Dowager from Seoul, only one
prominent courtier, Yi Hang-bok, with eight others, stood out against 930
officials and 170 of the king’s relatives who were ready to vote for the
shameful deed.[44]
The proportion of courageous and honest officials connected with the
Korean Court had not greatly increased up to the time when Marquis
Ito undertook the task of its purification. This fact, in itself, so
discouraging to the effort at instituting reforms from above downward
on the part of the Koreans themselves, is made obvious in a striking
way by the analysis of a brief, confidential description (a sort of
official Korean “Who is Who?”) of ninety-six persons, prepared by one
well acquainted with the men and their history, but favorably disposed
toward—even prejudiced in favor of—the side of Korea. Of these ninety-six
officials, only five are pronounced thoroughly honorable and trustworthy
characters; twenty-seven are classed as fairly good; the remainder are
denominated very weak, or very bad. Subsequent developments have revealed
the weakness or corruption of most of those whom this paper less than
ten years ago pronounced to be on the whole either hopeful or positively
good. What this means for Korea to-day can be judged by the following
selected examples: (1) “A rather proud and rich member of the ⸺ Clan;
a notorious squeezer, and one whose services may always be had for a
price; absolutely unreliable and incapable of patriotic impulses.” (2) “A
contemptible but rich member of the ⸺ Clan; a most detestable oppressor
of the people as shown in Pyeng Yang; incapable of good impulses
apparently.” (3) “A slippery self-made man; Emperor’s private treasurer;
Vice-Minister of Interior for many years; rose through influence of his
cousin, but not loyal to latter’s memory; cannot be influenced except
through fear or favor.” (4) “A self-made man who might better have let
out the job; has courage, and is unmercifully, cruel and oppressive; is
the most ignorant official in high office during twenty years.” Yet this
low-born and ignorant fellow had almost absolute control of the Emperor
and of the country’s finances for several years.
The examples given above may serve to describe the one-third of the
ninety-six officials characterized by extreme immorality. Of the other
one-third, whose services to their country are rendered available only
for evil on account of their weakness, the following examples afford a
sufficiently accurate description: (1) “Foreign Minister repeatedly; very
deficient in intelligence, but says little and looks wise; too feeble
to be dishonest, but an easy tool for one who cares to use him.” (2)
“Governor of ⸺; a weak, abominable man, who has done well at ⸺, because
kept in check by the Japanese; would be a scoundrel if the opportunity
offered; a tool of Yi Yong-ik” (a man notorious for his corruption and
oppression, on account of which some of the highest officials knelt
before the Palace gate during the entire day and night of November
28, 1902, praying for his trial and punishment; but he was saved by
the Emperor, who feared him; he was even subsequently brought back
from banishment and restored to his post as “Director of the Imperial
Estates”). (3) “An old man of remarkable history; has been on all sides
of the political fence; is good at times, and apparently a patriot, and
then he will turn up on quite the opposite side.”
It cannot be supposed that an official class, so constituted and so
thoroughly imbued with such unwholesome characteristics, would easily
form within itself a party loyal to reform, and brave and strong enough
to carry its loyalty out into practical effect. As a matter of fact
no such political party has ever been formed and maintained to any
successful issue, in the history of Korea. For this we may take the word
of Mr. Homer B. Hulbert, who says,[45] regarding the formation of parties
in 1575: “These parties have never represented any principle whatever.
They have never had any platforms, but have been, and are, simply
political clans bent upon securing the royal favor and the offices and
emoluments that go therewith.” In another work of the same author we are
told: “From that day onward (middle of the sixteenth century) politics
has been a war of factions, struggling for wealth and power, with no
scruples against murder or other crime.” The Koreans are, indeed, given
to the formation of societies and parties of various descriptions; the
more improper or nearly impossible are the ends to be reached, and
the more clandestine and illicit the means employed, the greater the
temporary enthusiasm which they are likely to excite. All these parties
have therefore one plank and one plan of action: to get the ear of the
king, to seize upon and control the office-making power, and so to put
in every lucrative or honorable position their own partisans. It is “the
spoils system sublimated”; for there is “absolutely no admixture of any
other element.”[46]
On the other hand, this same factional and corrupt spirit among the
ruling classes has made it certain that, “however good a statesman a
man might be, the other side would try to get his head removed from his
shoulders at the first opportunity; and the more distinguished he became,
the greater this desire would be. From that time (again the middle of the
sixteenth century) to this, almost all the really great men of Korea have
met a violent death.”... “No matter how long one lives in this country,
he will never get to understand how a people can possibly drop to such
a low estate as to be willing to live without the remotest hope of
receiving even-handed justice. Not a week passes but you come in personal
contact with cases of injustice and brutality that would mean a riot in
any civilized country.”[47]
As to the public justice when administered by such a ruling class, this
has actually been what might have been expected. The one judicial
principle universally recognized is that justice is worth its price;
the side which can offer the largest bribe of money or influence
will uniformly win its case. Of justice in Korea, to quote from Mr.
Hulbert again,[48] there is “not much more than is absolutely necessary
to hold the fabric of the commonwealth from disintegration.” Until
the Chino-Japan war, when Japanese influence made itself felt in a
controlling way, the brutal spectacles were not infrequent of men having
their heads hacked off with dull swords, or their bones broken by beating
with a huge paddle. Death by poison with extract made by boiling the
centipede was administered to prisoners. It was not till 1895 that the
law was abolished which required the poisoning of mother, wife, and
daughter for the man’s treason, the poisoning of wife for his crime
of murder or arson, and the enslaving of wife for his theft. When the
reformers of 1894 ordered the restoration to their lawful owners of the
lands and houses which had been illegally seized, numerous officials—some
of whom were well known in foreign circles as partners of concessions
obtained through influence—lost large fractions of their wealth because
of the decree.
After describing the Yang-ban as one sees him upon the streets or meets
him in social gatherings at Seoul in the following terms—a “dignified,
stately gentleman, self-centred, self-contented, naïvely curious about
the foreigner, albeit in a slightly contemptuous fashion”—a writer
well acquainted with the Korean gentry goes on to say: “Experience
teaches that this fine gentleman is not ashamed to live upon his
relatives, to the remotest degree; that he disdains labor and knows
nothing of business; that he is not a liar from malice, but that he is
a prevaricator by instinct and habit. Even when he wishes to tell the
truth, and nothing but the truth, it leaves his lips so embroidered with
fanciful elaborations that the Father of lies would be glad to claim it
for his own. With all that, he may, according to the accepted standards
of his class, be an upright citizen, a kind husband, and a conscientious
parent. And just as likely as not, he may possess qualities which endear
him to the foreign observer.”
Under centuries of subjection to a ruling class having the character
described above, the mental and moral characteristics of the Korean
people have been developed as might have been expected. The ethnic
mixture from which the race has sprung is possessed of fine physical
and spiritual qualities. The male members of the race, especially,
are in general of good height, well formed, and capable of endurance
and achievement in enterprises demanding bodily strength. They are
undoubtedly fond of their ease and even slothful—for man when not
stimulated by hope or necessity is naturally a lazy animal—as the
impression from the rows of coolies and peasants squatted upon the
ground and sucking their pipes, or lying prone in the sunlight, during
the working hours of the day, bears witness. As for the Yang-ban, on
no account will he do manual work. But, on the other hand, the lower
classes make good workmen, when well taught and properly “bossed”; and
their miners, for example, are said by experts to be among the best in
the world. The success in manual pursuits of those who emigrated to
Hawaii some years ago testifies also to their inherent capacity. As has
already been said, the Koreans are much given to forming all manner of
associations; they are “gregarious in their crimes as in their pastimes.”
When well treated they are generally good-natured and docile—easy to
control under even a tolerably just administration. Nor are they,
probably, such cowards that they cannot be trained to acquit themselves
well in war.
The prevailing, the practically universal vices and crimes are those
which are inevitable under any such government, if long continued,
as that which has burdened and degraded the Korean populace from the
beginning of their obscure history as a complex of kingdoms down to the
present time. What their vices and crimes are can be learned even better
from the lips of their professed friends than from those whom they regard
as their open or secret enemies. Of the average Korean Mr. Hulbert[49]
affirms: “You may call him a liar or a libertine, and he will laugh it
off; but call him mean and you flick him on the raw.” “In Korea it is
as common to use the expression, ‘You are a liar’ as it is with us to
say, ‘You don’t say.’... A Korean sees about as much moral turpitude in
a lie as we see in a mixed metaphor or a split infinitive.” As to his
good nature: “Any accession of importance or prestige goes to his head
like new wine and is apt to make him offensive.” The same author, after
saying of the Korean bullock, “This heavy, slow-plodding animal, docile,
long-suffering, uncomplaining, would make a fitting emblem of the Korean
people,” goes on to describe his own disgust at the frequent sight of the
drunken, brutal bullock-driver, venting his spleen on some fellow Korean
by cruelly beating his own bullock. Torturing animals is a favorite
pastime for both children and adults. The horrid brutality of the Korean
mob, to which reference has already been repeatedly made, has been more
than once witnessed by those now living in Seoul; it would speedily be
witnessed again, if the hand of the Japanese Protectorate were withdrawn.
For the Korean, when angry, is recklessly cruel and entirely careless
of life, and resembles nothing else so much as a “fanged beast.”[50]
When combined with the superstition and the incredible credulity which
prevail among the populace, this brutality constitutes a standing menace
to the peace and life of the foreign population residing in the midst of
them. It was as late as 1888 that the mob, excited by the report that
the Americans and Europeans were engaged in the business, for profit, of
killing Korean babies and of cutting off the breasts of Korean women to
use in the manufacture of condensed milk, were scarcely repressed from
wholesale arson and murder.[51]
The anti-Japanese natives and foreigners have with more or less good
reason complained that an increase of sexual impurity and of licensed
vice has resulted from the Japanese Protectorate over Korea. Without
entering upon the discussion of the difficult problem involved in
these charges, it is enough to say that “corruption of the Koreans”
in this regard is scarcely a proper claim to bring forward, under any
circumstances. It is of no particular significance to determine whether
the statement of a recent writer that the exposure of their breasts on
the streets is characteristic of Korean women generally, is a libel,
or not. It is true, indeed, that the foreign lady who has done much to
encourage among the natives of her own sex in Seoul a certain regard
for the decencies of civilization, was accustomed, not many years ago,
to provide herself with safety-pins and accompany their use upon the
garments of the lower classes (women of the higher classes do not appear
upon the streets) with a moral lecture. But to one acquainted with the
unimportant influence of such exposure upon really vicious conduct among
peoples of a certain grade of race-culture, the charge, whether true or
not, is comparatively petty. Much more determinative is it to learn from
their friendly historians that only one in ten of their songs could with
decency be published; that almost all their stories are of a salacious
character and, “however discreditable it may be, they are a true picture
of the morals of Korea to-day”; and that among the lower classes the
utmost promiscuity prevails. “A man may have half-a-dozen wives a
year in succession. No ceremony is required, and it is simply a mutual
agreement of a more or less temporary nature.”[52]
As to business honesty or respect for property rights, as such, there
is almost none of it among the people of Korea. But what else could be
expected of pedlers, peasants, and coolies, who have lived under the
corrupt and oppressive government of such rulers during centuries of
time? To quote again from the friendly historian:[53] “In case a man
has to foreclose a mortgage and enter upon possession of the property,
he will need the sanction of the authorities, since possession here,
as elsewhere, is nine points of the law. The trouble is that a large
fraction of the remaining point is dependent upon the caprice or the
venality of the official whose duty is to adjudicate the case. In a land
where bribery is almost second nature, and where private rights are of
small account unless backed by some kind of influence, the thwarting of
justice is exceedingly common.” More astonishing still, from our point
of view, is the use made of the public properties, which until recently
prevailed even in the city of Seoul, by the lowest of the people. Any
Korean might extend his temporary booth or shop out into the street, and
then, when people had become accustomed to this, quietly plant permanent
posts at the extreme limit of his illicit appropriation. On being
expostulated with, “he will put on a look of innocence and assert that
he has been using the space for many years”;[54] indeed, “he inherited
it from his father or father’s father.” To this day the making of false
deeds, or the deeding of the same property to two different purchasers
(by one false deed and one genuine, or by both false) is an exceedingly
common occurrence. If the native wanted a place for the deposit of his
filth, and the drain near his house was already full, he dug a hole
in the street; if he wanted dirt for his own use, he took it from the
street. “Scores of times,” says Hulbert, “I have come upon places where a
hole has been dug in the street large enough to bury an ox.” Meanwhile,
petty stealing and highway robbery have been going on all over the
land. This, too, is the practical morality of the Korean populace, when
unrestrained by foreign control, even down to the present time.
A curious confirmation of the foregoing estimate of the mental and moral
character of the people of Korea was afforded by the “confessions”
which poured forth in perfervid language, ending not infrequently in
a falling fit or a lapse into half-consciousness, from thousands of
native Christians during the revival of 1906-1907. The sins which were
confessed to have been committed since their profession of Christianity,
were in the main these same characteristic vices of the Korean people.
They included not only pride, jealousy, and hatred, but habitual lying,
cheating, stealing, and acts of impurity.
It is, then, no cause for surprise that a recent writer[55] affirms: “If
it seems a hopeless task to lift the Chinaman out of his groove, it is
a hundred times more difficult to change the habits of a Korean.... The
Korean has absolutely nothing to recommend him save his good nature.
He is a standing warning to those who oppose progress. Some one has
said that the answer to Confucianism is China; but the best and most
completely damning answer is Korea.”
Can Korea—such a people, with such rulers—be reformed and redeemed? Can
her rulers be made to rule at least in some semblance of righteousness,
as preparatory to its more perfect and substantial form? Can the people
learn to prize order, to obey law, and to respect human rights?
Probably, yes; but certainly never without help from the outside. And
this help must be something more than the missionary can give. It must
lay foundations of industrial, judicial, and governmental reform: it
must also enforce them. Such political disease does not, if left alone,
perfect its own cure. The knife of the surgeon is first of all needed;
the tonic of the physician and the nourishment of good food and the
bracing of a purer air come afterward. We cannot, therefore, agree with
the small body of Christian workmen—now, happily, a minority—who try to
believe that the needed redemption of Korea could be effected by their
unaided forces. A union of law, enforced by police and military, with the
spiritual influences of education and religion, is alone available in so
desperate a case as that of Korea to-day.
It is to the task of a political reformation and education for both
rulers and people in Korea that Japan stands committed before the
world at the present time. As represented by the Marquis Ito, she has
undertaken this task with a good conscience and with a reasonable
amount of hope. Among the administrative reforms in Korea[56] one of
the most important is the “Purification of the Imperial Court.” This
“singular operation the Resident-General caused to be resolutely carried
out in July, 1906.” At that time “men and women of uncertain origin
and questionable character ... had, in a considerable number, come to
find their way into the royal palace, until it had become a veritable
_rendezvous_ of adventurers and conspirators. Divining, fortune-telling
and spirit-incanting found favor there, and knaves and villains plotted
and intrigued within the very gates of the Court, in co-operation with
native and foreign schemers without. By cheating and chicanery, they
relieved the Imperial treasury of its funds, and in their eagerness to
fill their pockets never stopped to think of what dangerous seeds of
disorder and rapine they were scattering broadcast over the benighted
peninsula.”
It must doubtless be confessed that under the ex-Emperor the efforts of
the Residency-General to effect the needed reforms were successful only
to a limited extent. But with his last piece of intriguing to “relieve
the Imperial treasury of its funds,” by sending a commission to the
Hague Conference, “in co-operation with native and foreign schemers,”
the old era came quickly to an end. The history of its termination will
be told elsewhere; but the fact has illumined and strengthened the hope
that Korea, too, can in time produce men fit to rule with some semblance
of honesty, fidelity, and righteousness. Meantime, they must be largely
ruled from without.
How this hope of industrial and political redemption may be extended to
the people at large and applied to the different important interests
of the nation, both in its internal and foreign relations, will be
illustrated in the several following chapters. Now that the Emperor[57]
is publicly committed to an extended policy of reform; that the Ministers
are for the first time in the history of Korea really a Cabinet
exercising some control; that the Resident-General has the right and
the duty to guide and to enforce all the important measures necessary
to achieve reform; that the foreign nations chiefly interested have
definitively recognized the Japanese Protectorate; and that the leaders
of the foreign moral and religious forces are so largely in harmony with
the plans of Japan;—now that all this is matter of past achievement,
the prospects for the future of Korea are brighter than they have ever
been before. One may reasonably hope that the time is not far distant
when both rulers and people will be consciously the happier and more
prosperous, because they have been compelled by a foreign and hated
neighbor to submit to a reformation imposed from without. That they
would ever have reformed themselves is not to be believed by those who
know intimately the mental and moral history and characteristics of the
Koreans.
CHAPTER XIII
RESOURCES AND FINANCE
The resources of the Korean peninsula have never been systematically
developed; indeed, until a very recent date no intelligent attempt has
ever been made to determine what they actually are. The Korean Government
has usually been content with such an adjustment of “squeezes” as seemed
best to meet the exigencies of the times—administered according to the
temperament and interests of the local magistracy. At intervals, however,
the Court officials have carried their more erratic and incalculable
method of extortion and of plundering the people rather widely into
effect. Then those of their number who chanced to be His Majesty’s
favorites of the hour have enjoyed most of the surplus; the people
have submitted to, or savagely and desperately revolted against, the
inevitable; but the country at large has continued poor at all times,
and has frequently been devastated by famine. As to the exploiting of
Korea’s resources by foreign capital, the facts have been quite uniformly
these: a combination of adventurers from abroad with Koreans who either
possessed themselves, or through others could obtain “influence” at Court
has been effected; sometimes, but by no means always, the Emperor’s
privy purse has profited temporarily; but the main part of the proceeds
has been divided among the native and foreign promoters. Of late years,
some of the “concessions” have been almost, or quite, given away in the
hope of thus obtaining foreign interference or sympathy. In only rare
instances has the national wealth been greatly increased in this way, or
even the treasury of the Government been made much the richer.
It is plain, then, that if the Japanese Protectorate is to be made really
effective for the industrial uplift and development of the Korean people,
as well as capable of rewarding Japan for its expenditure in substantial
ways, the resources of the country must be intelligently explored and
systematically developed. Here is where the work of reform must begin. In
intimate relations with this work stands, of course, the establishment
of a sound and stable currency. For the financial condition of Korea up
to very recent times was as disgraceful as its industrial condition was
deplorable. To this important task of developing the resources of Korea
and reforming its finances, Marquis Ito, as Resident-General, and Mr.
Megata, as Financial Adviser, have devoted themselves with a patience,
self-sacrifice, and skill, which ought ultimately to overcome the
tremendous difficulties involved.
“Korea,” says the _Seoul Press_, “is essentially an agricultural country.
Eighty per cent. of her population till the soil, and stinted as are the
returns which the soil is willing to yield under the present method of
cultivation, the produce from land constitutes at least ninety per cent.
of the annual income of the country. To improve the lot of the toiling
millions on the farms is therefore to improve the lot of virtually the
whole nation. It was in recognition of this obvious fact that Marquis
Ito, in addressing the leading editors of Tokyo, in February, 1906,
previous to his departure for Korea to assume the duties of his newly
appointed post as Resident-General, laid particular emphasis on the
urgent importance of introducing agricultural improvements in this
country. This question was consequently the very first to engage the
serious attention of the authorities of the Residency-General.”[58] The
statistics for the year ending December 31, 1906, show that out of an
amount of taxes estimated at 6,422,744 _yen_, the sum of 5,208,228 _yen_
was apportioned to the land tax, and 234,096 _yen_ to the house tax. The
difficulty of collecting the taxes, either through the corruption of the
officials, or by reason of the inability or inexcusable and often violent
resistance of the people, can be estimated by the fact that, of the land
tax 2,214,823+ _yen_ was still “outstanding,” and of the house tax,
68,794+ _yen_.[59]
The institution of an Experimental Station and Agricultural School
at Suwon has already been described (p. 122 _f._). But in order to
accomplish the needed development of Korea’s agricultural resources, the
peasant farmers must themselves be induced to reform their methods of
cultivation. As might be expected, however, the Korean peasant farmer is
suspicious of all attempts to improve his wasteful methods, is extremely
“conservative” (a much-abused word) in his habits, and slow to learn.
Some good work has, however, already been done by way of opening his
eyes. The example of the Model Farm, which is limited to one locality,
is supplemented by the example of the Japanese farmers who are settling
in numerous localities. To take an instance: improved Japanese rice
seed was distributed _gratis_ in various parts of the country. But even
then it was necessary to guarantee the farmers against loss in order to
induce them to try the experiment of cultivating it. The result of the
experiment was most encouraging. The yield was in every case greater than
that obtained from the native seed; in some cases the gain in the product
being as much as from six to ten _tō_ (3-5 bushels) per _tan_ (¼ acre).
Similar experiments are now in progress with the seed of barley and
wheat, imported from Japan, America, and Europe.
In intimate connection with these plans for developing the agricultural
resources of Korea stands the project for utilizing the unreclaimed
state lands. And surely here, at least, all those who have the slightest
honest feeling of regard for the real interests of the country ought to
wish that the _people_, and not the Court, and not the foreign promoter,
should be primarily considered and protected. How great are the chances
for waste, fraud, and unwise action in the distribution of this form of
the nation’s resources, no other country has had better reason to know
than has the United States.
For the purpose of “Utilization of Unreclaimed State Lands” a law
was prepared under the advice, and by the urgency, of the Japanese
Government, and promulgated in March of 1907. This law, including the
Supplement, consists of seventeen articles, according to which all
uncultivated lands, marshes and dry beaches not constituting private
properties, will be included in the category. On application to the
Minister of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry, these lands will be
leased for a period not exceeding ten years. The Minister of Agriculture,
Commerce and Industry is authorized to sell or give _gratis_ the leased
lands to lessees who have successfully carried out the prescribed work
on them. For the five years following the year in which such a sale or
bestowal has taken place, taxation on these lands will be at the rate of
one-third of the tax levied on the lowest class lands of the province
of which they form a part. The lessees will be unable to sell, transfer
or mortgage the leased lands without permission of the Minister above
mentioned. Charters for lands on which the prescribed work has not been
started within one year of the date of their granting shall be cancelled,
also those for lands on which the work, after commencement, does not
make sufficient progress—unless proper reason for that can be shown.
Any person who utilizes unreclaimed state lands in violation of the
present law will be liable to a fine of between five and two hundred
_yen_ inclusive. In the case of the utilization of unreclaimed state land
less than three _cho_ (some 7 acres) in area, the present law will not
be applied for the time being, the old custom in force being adhered to.
Possessors of charters for the utilization of unreclaimed state lands
which have been obtained before the promulgation of the new law and which
are still valid must apply to the Minister of Agriculture, Commerce
and Industry for their recognition within three months of the date of
enforcement of the present law. When the lessees who have obtained such
recognition have succeeded in carrying out the prescribed work on the
leased lands, the lands will be presented to them by the Government.
Another important part of the development of the agricultural resources
of Korea is the introduction of wholly or largely new products of
the land. This is, indeed, a more truly “experimental,” and in some
cases highly speculative, procedure. There will doubtless be, as its
inevitable accompaniment, a larger percentage of failures; there maybe,
if the experiments are not intelligently made and hedged about with
educational and legal precautions, financial losses which the poverty
of the country can ill afford to bear. There is, perhaps, peculiar
danger of this under the dominant Japanese influences; for Japan has
herself not as yet, industrially and financially, got her heel firmly
on the ground. Experiments of various kinds, of a highly speculative
character, are still according to the mind of the nation at large. But
the Government of Japan is meantime training its own young men to a
more thorough scientific acquaintance with the facts and laws which
determine industrial prosperity; and under the administration of the
Residency-General in Korea the Japanese Government is committed to the
plan of giving to the Koreans also the fullest share in the benefits of
this training.
To mention a single instance of the class of projects to which reference
has just been made, we quote the following paragraph from an official
paper:[60]
The climate of Korea is thought to be well suited for cotton
cultivation. Whether through misjudgment in the choice of
the seed, or blunders in the method, the experiments made
in this direction have, however, been so far fruitless of
satisfactory results. Taking this fact to heart, those Japanese
and Koreans interested in the matter, some time ago formed “A
Cotton Cultivation Association,” and memorialized the Korean
Government of their resolution to carry through their aim.
Lending its ears to their memorial, the Government decided
on a plan to open a cotton nursery, to be first sown with
the imported, continental seed, then to distribute among
planters at large the seed obtainable from the crop; and also
to start a cotton-ginning factory with the special object of
preventing the seed from being wastefully thrown away. It was
then arranged for this purpose to disburse a sum of 100,000
_yen_, distributed over several years, commencing in 1906.
The management of the undertaking was first placed wholly in
the hands of the “Cotton Cultivation Association,” and the
Resident-General intrusted the supervision of the Association’s
work to the Residency-General’s Industrial Model Farm. In its
turn, however, the Association asked the Farm to take over the
entire business primarily placed in its control. The request
being granted, the Farm opened a branch office at Mok-pho
on the 15th of June, 1906, calling it the “Kwang-yo Mohanjo
Mok-pho Branch.” There were selected ten sites for cotton beds
(covering altogether 51 _cho_,[61] six _tan_, or about 120
acres, of land in Mok-pho); and forthwith commenced work. The
site for the cotton-ginning factory was chosen in Mok-pho, and
its buildings are now completed.
Of the same character as the project for raising cotton in Korea,
although rather less experimental, are the plans for increasing the
product of tobacco. Of this Mr. Megata says in his last report:
“Investigations are being made of the various sources of wealth, of
which tobacco is regarded as the most promising. Practical examination
as to the state of tobacco manufacture in this country was started in
the preceding years. Exertion is being made by the Government for the
extension of the general demand for Korean tobacco. Better qualities of
it were selected and sent to the Tobacco Monopoly Bureau of Japan for
trial manufacture. The improvement of its planting and manufacture and of
the selection of seed is being studied. For the purpose of investigating
the relation between the climate and tobacco-planting, the survey of the
climate of the country was commenced; and the result of the investigation
is now to be taken into consideration for the safety and progress of that
industry in this country. Korean youths to engage in the investigation of
the resources of national wealth are being trained for the task.”
[Illustration: The Hall of Congratulations.]
Next to agriculture in importance stands the development of forestation
in Korea. The Koreans have never given any attention to the art of
growing trees either for timber or for fuel. The late Tai Won Kun, as
one of the ways adopted by him for ruining the country while building
a palace for his son, ordered every owner of large, serviceable trees
throughout the land to cut them down and transport them to Seoul at
his own expense. Day by day, and hour by hour, the Korean populace, to
the number of thousands of old men, women, and boys, with hundreds of
bullocks and ponies, are engaged in exterminating the future forests
in order to provide themselves with fuel, of which they will not be
persuaded to make economical use, and which they cannot dispense
with so long as their present tastes and contrivances for heating
themselves and cooking their food are not changed. Hence, all over
the more frequented parts of Korea the hills and mountains, unless in
comparatively rare cases they are especially protected, are denuded and
barren. This constant deforestation has its customary inevitable results.
In dry seasons there are those chronic water famines which discourage
the farmer’s cheerful industry, and which encourage him to hatred of
the government, to refusal to pay taxes, and to violent and murderous
revolt. But when there is abundance of rain, then follow inundations,
almost as destructive to the fields as are the droughts. Mining and all
other industries suffer from the same source. Thus, as says the Report
of the Residency-General, when “seen from the economic, sanitary, or
political point of view, one of the greatest needs of Korea at present is
the rehabilitation of its forests.” The task involved in this matter of
industrial reform and development of resources is, however, of the most
difficult order. The rights of the people, not only to use as they please
their own trees, but to plunder the hill and mountain sides of their
fuel, regardless of ownership, are firmly established by usage. In the
bitter weather of winter much suffering would ensue, and its consequent
political disturbance, if these customs were suddenly and extensively
controlled. Nevertheless, model forests have been established and
instruction in forestation is given to Korean youths in a school founded
for that purpose. Below are given the names of localities and the sizes
of the model forests so far established, with their outlays:[62]
“_Koan-ak-san_ and three other places in the vicinity of Seoul. Total
area 2,060 _cho_. Outlay, about 152,000 _yen_, distributed over five
years, commencing 1907.
“_Tai-syong-san_ and two other places in the vicinity of Pyeng-yang.
Total area 610 _cho_. Outlay, about 63,000 _yen_, distributed over five
years, commencing 1908. [Nursery beds expected to be opened in 1907.]
“_Oa-yong-san_ and one other place in the vicinity of Taiku. Total area
650 _cho_. Outlay, about 63,000 _yen_, distributed over six years,
commencing 1908. [Nursery beds expected to be started in 1907.]”
The more important resources of this class are, however, the existing
forests along the banks of the Yalu and Amur rivers. Indeed, the desire
to gain control of this wealth of timber was one of the more immediate
causes leading to the Russo-Japanese war; it is still one of the more
difficult points for satisfactory adjustment on the part of the three
nations chiefly concerned. For the development of these resources an
agreement between Japan and Korea was signed on October 19, 1906, by the
Marquis Ito and the Korean Prime Minister, the Minister of Finance, and
the Minister of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry. The text of this
agreement and a brief introduction, stating its importance, is given
in Mr. Megata’s last report.[63] “The banks along the Yalu and Amur,”
says this report, “are rich in forests which have never been cut. Proper
management of those forests would yield a considerable revenue to the
treasury; but at the same time it would require not a little expense.
In the present condition of the Korean finances it would not be wise to
undertake this on the account of Korea alone, although the opening up of
such a source of wealth is highly necessary.” An agreement was concluded
between the governments of Japan and Korea in October last to carry on
the forestry along those banks on their joint account, each government
investing 600,000 _yen_. The agreement newly concluded reads as follows:
The Governments of Japan and Korea, regarding the forests in
the districts along the Yalu and Amur rivers to be the richest
source of wealth on the Korean frontier, hereby agree on the
terms mentioned below as to the management of those forests:
Art. 1. The forests in the districts along the Yalu and
Amur rivers shall be subject to the joint management of the
Governments of Japan and Korea.
Art. 2. The fund for the management shall be 1,200,000 _yen_, a
half of which shall be invested by each Government.
Art. 3. As to the management of the forests and its income and
expenditure, a special account shall be created in order to
make them clear.
The details of the account shall be notified to each Government
once a year.
Art. 4. The profit or loss of the undertaking shall be divided
between the two Governments in proportion to the amounts of
their investments.
Art. 5. In case necessity arises to increase the investment
stated in the Art. 2, it shall be done, on the recognition of
both Governments.
Art. 6. In case necessity arises to enact detailed rules in
order to enforce the present agreement, it shall be submitted
to the hands of commissioners appointed by both Governments.
Art. 7. On the progress of the undertaking, when necessity
arises to change its organization into a company so as to
enable the subjects of both the countries to join in the
undertaking, the necessary processes shall be determined by an
agreement of both Governments.
For centuries Korea has been reputed to be rich in deposits of gold; and
it is a fact that Japan, by trading with Korea, obtained most of this
precious metal, which the Dutch, by shrewd management of their relations
in trade with Japan, carried off to Holland. Both these Oriental
countries in this way contributed to the enrichment of a limited number
of Europeans. But the real condition of the mining resources of the
peninsula has never been investigated; even the amount of the annual
product of gold has never been accurately ascertained; and—worst of
all—there have never been any laws or accepted principles to govern the
mining industry. The result of all this ignorance, confusion and fraud
is not difficult to conjecture. “Some mines,” says the official report,
“are under the direct control of the Minister of Agriculture, Commerce
and Industry; with others the granting of a concession rests with the
Chief of the Mining Bureau; with others again, the subordinate officials
on the spot have it in their power to allow or disallow their working;
and to make confusion worse confounded, there are even mines operated
under patents secretly granted by the Emperor without consulting the
Cabinet. This chaotic state of things is bad enough, but it does not stop
here. For in some cases the concessions granted are cancelled without
compensation; while in other cases, one and the same mining district has
been leased to several persons one after another until it has become
utterly impossible to tell which is the rightful concessionaire. Then,
again, there are cases in which the Departments of Agriculture, Commerce
and Industry, of Finance, and of the Imperial Household, severally and
independently, have levied mining taxes to suit their own convenience;
while in others, the provincial authorities quite arbitrarily collect
imposts. In the midst of this indescribable confusion, the cunning and
unscrupulous have not been slow to make the most of the situation,
by having recourse to bribery, instigation, intimidation, and other
unlawful schemes, until vast tracts of mining lands have come under their
control.”[64]
To remedy, as far as possible, these evils and to limit their continuance
into the future, a General Mining Law was proclaimed on July 12, 1906,
and a Placer Mining Law on the 28th of the same month. Both these laws
were accompanied by the enactment of detailed rules. The principal
features of these laws provided that mines, whose ownership could not
be definitely ascertained, should revert to the state; that the limits
of mining concessions should be definitely prescribed; that mining
rights which could be established as legally gained should be legally
protected; that the taxes on mining properties should be unified; and
that priority of application, in cases of competing concessions, should,
until examination could be made, stop the granting to others of the same
concession in an arbitrary way. In the effort to put into effective
operation these legal enactments it was necessary to call upon the
Korean authorities to promulgate a list of the mines belonging to the
Imperial Household, and also a list of such Crown mines as the Household
might intend to work for itself. But the Korean authorities, either
from ignorance, sloth, or other even less creditable reasons, did not
make haste to prepare such a list. Meantime, all mining rights were,
legally considered, in abeyance. It was only after repeated and urgent
remonstrances from the Resident-General, and as late as November 17,
1906, that the required list was promulgated. It then appeared that the
Imperial Household not only laid claim to mines claimed by Japanese, but
also by American and European concessionaires.
The falsity of the statement, so repeatedly made abroad, that the Koreans
are being robbed by Japanese, to the detriment of the interests of other
foreigners, under the protection of the Japanese Government in Korea, is
made obvious by the following, among other facts. Had the applicants to
these contested claims been only Japanese or Koreans, they would have
been required to survey the properties and make out maps at their own
expense; but in deference to the interests of the American and European
claimants the survey was made by experts at the expense of the state. And
while only twenty per cent. of the 200 applications made by Japanese
were granted, “virtually all the applications made by Americans and
Europeans were granted.”
Besides gold, which is found especially in the form of gold-dust, there
are in Korea silver, copper, graphite, and coal. The coal is not good for
steaming purposes, nor fitted for export; but when made, by mixing it
with earth, into bricks or balls, it is valuable as fuel for those who
can afford its use. The total annual value of these mineral products, for
reasons already explained, cannot be accurately ascertained. Hitherto
much of the gold has been smuggled out of the country in order to
escape the export and other taxes. It is calculated, however, by the
Residency-General that in the aggregate these products do not fall below
6,000,000 _yen_.
We shall not attempt to speak in detail of the other natural resources
of Korea, of its fisheries, or its sericulture, or its raising of fruit.
But all these have been in the past left in a lamentable condition of
ignorance and disorder; and all of these are to be made objects of
attention, with the purpose of reform, by the Korean Government under the
Japanese Protectorate.
What has been shown to be true of the natural resources of Korea, in
soil, forests, mines, and other products, is true of its manufacturing
industries. Early in her history Korea attained a considerable
development in the arts of weaving, pottery, paper-making, metal-casting,
and the dressing of skins. In several instances Japan borrowed her models
from Korea in all these lines of the industrial arts. But to-day there is
absolutely nothing that a foreign traveller would covet to take away from
Korea except, perhaps, a Korean brass-bound chest or a set of its rude
brass utensils for holding food. The founding of an Industrial Training
Institute in the spring of 1907, and a statement of what it proposes to
try to accomplish for the revival and development of Korean industrial
arts, have been referred to in an earlier chapter (p. 128 _f._). Its
practical results must be awaited with patience; but now that the control
of the Resident-General over internal affairs in Korea is increased by
the Convention of July, 1907, we may reasonably anticipate favorable
results in due time.
The matter of the Customs stands midway between the development of the
natural resources and the control of finance; it therefore concerns both
the topics which are being briefly treated in this chapter. The following
quotation from the last report of the Financial Adviser to the Korean
Government gives all the information necessary to our purpose upon this
point:
On the conclusion of the Russo-Japanese war, trade on the
Yalu River became suddenly prosperous. It is a well-known
fact that the districts along the river are rich in various
sources of wealth, the opening up of which depends greatly upon
the facility of transportation, as well as the prosperity of
trade in those districts. While making arrangements for the
convenience of traders at large, the prevention of illegal
traders, as smugglers, is being carried out more strictly
than ever before; and a healthy development of the trade is
thus aimed at. On the seventh of June, a branch office of the
Chemulpo Customs was established in Shin-Wiju. On the third
of August last, a Customs Agency of this branch office was
commenced at Yong-am-po, and an Inspection Station at Wiju. On
the first of October last the Chin-nampo Branch Office of the
Chemulpo Customs was promoted to an independent office, and
the above-mentioned branch offices, agency, and station were
transferred to its jurisdiction.
The increase of trade after the Russo-Japanese war was not
limited to the banks of the Yalu River. A similar increase was
also shown in Northern Korea, and a sufficient equipment to
meet the customs demands of this increase was lacking. As a
means of meeting the present requirements, the reconstruction
of the Song-chin Customs Godown, which had been destroyed by
fire during the war, was commenced in June last, and completed
in the following October. In September last, the construction
of the Customs Wharf at Song-chin was commenced and completed
in November. The Wonsan Customs had not been provided with
sufficient sheds, and consequently damage to the goods was an
affair of frequent occurrence. Sheds were newly built there in
December last. Steam launches were provided in the Customs of
Chemulpo, Fusan, Wonsan, Chin-nampo and Mokpo, for purposes of
inspection.
Though Japanese have now been appointed as Commissioners at
Chemulpo and Fusan, the customs business is being managed in
essentially the same way as when those offices were being held
by Europeans, but not without some changes. From the first of
September last, the institution of new customs regulations was
undertaken. In October the service rules for customs officials
were issued, and uniforms were prescribed for officials of
the outdoor service. In November the jurisdiction of each
customs office was clearly defined. Uniformity of taxes was
arranged. The work was divided into several departments and
sections. Various procedures in the collection of customs were
altered. The new arrangements are intended both to regulate
and to expedite the work of customs; but the before-mentioned
concern matters of internal administration only. As to the
reform of more fundamental matters, this must be undertaken
in connection with the reconstruction of harbors, customs,
accommodations on land, and the building of lighthouses. The
Customs Maritime Works Department has been organized for this
purpose—the first stage of the work to be concluded in 1911.
As the port regulations now in force do not fit the present
conditions in each port, alterations are now being planned. In
February last the method of quarantine inspection was altered.
The accounts of the Korean Customs Department have hitherto
been separate from the Korean Government accounts—the revenue
and expenditure of the former not being entered in the annual
budget. [On the last item the Report of the Residency-General
upon Administrative Reforms remarks that the impropriety of
this omission is obvious.] They are, however, entered in the
budget of 1907 for the first time.
The development of the resources of any country is, of course, intimately
dependent upon the soundness and wisdom of its financial policy and
administration. This is increasingly so under modern conditions in
countries where international relations are of the greatest importance.
Nothing could have been worse than the chaotic condition of the Korean
finances when Mr. Megata, in conformity with the Convention signed
between Japan and Korea on the 22d of August, 1905, was appointed
Financial Adviser to the Korean Government by the Imperial Japanese
Government.[65] Mr. Hulbert, who afterward became the most unsparing
critic of Mr. Megata’s policy, himself wrote in the _Korean Review_, in
1903: “It is encouraging to note that every part of the Korean Executive
has come to the conclusion that something has got to be done to put
Korea’s money system on a more secure foundation.” It was, however,
largely this same “Korean Executive” which had been chiefly responsible
for the deterioration of the currency and for the entire confusion in the
financial condition of the country. On this matter of the deterioration
of the currency, the Financial Adviser says in one of his Reports:[66]
“The currency of Korea, though nominally on a silver basis, has hitherto
in reality possessed no standard, and only cash and nickel coins have
been in circulation. Before the commencement of the reorganization of the
currency, the market rate of the nickel coins fell to 250 _won_ for 100
_yen_ in gold (Japanese currency); while that of the cash fluctuated from
100 per cent. to 60 per cent. premium. All cash pass at a uniform rate
in spite of their different sizes and weights. The market rate varies
according to the condition of supply and demand. When the market rate
is equivalent to one _rin_ (1-1000 _yen_ Japanese currency) it is called
_par_; when it is 2 _rin_, the cash is at 100 per cent. premium. Cash are
preferred in some provinces, nickel coins in other provinces. Since the
commencement of the withdrawal of the old nickel coins in June, 1905,
the market rate has gradually risen, and at present it is steady at the
normal rate of 200 _won_ to 100 _yen_. (According to the Currency Law,
the face value of the old nickel coin is 2.5 _sen_, its intrinsic value
being 2 _sen_).”[67]
Nor was the chaotic state of the currency the only evil connected
with its use. The cash, while having the preference over the nickel
coins because its intrinsic value was more nearly equal to its market
value, and it was therefore more stable, was intolerably inconvenient
for monetary transactions of any considerable size. Its value was so
low as to make it not worth the risk of counterfeiting. But even the
traveller for a few weeks in the country could pay his expenses only by
taking along several mule-loads of these petty coins. The nickels, on
the contrary, were exceedingly unstable, and were subject to wholesale
debasement and counterfeiting. It is true, as Mr. Hulbert charges, that
“counterfeit nickels were made largely by the Japanese in Osaka”; but it
is also true that these coins were counterfeited in large quantities by
the Chinese, and that the worst offenders were the Koreans themselves.
Here, as everywhere during the contemporaneous history of Korean affairs,
it was the “Korean Executive” which was chiefly to blame. In some cases
the Government loaned its coining machine for a money consideration; in
others, the “promoter of the minting industry” was obliged to content
himself with a manufacturing outfit obtained on private account. In this
connection the author calls to mind an astonishing but authentic story
of how a boy, deputed by his father to return to a benevolent association
in Seoul a sum of money which had been originally stolen by the trusted
agent of this association and loaned to the father, stole the money again
and spent it in the purchase of a counterfeiting machine. It should be
added that these remarkable transactions were of recent occurrence.
Japanese counterfeiters were arrested, tried and punished, after the
passage of a law by the Diet making it an offence to counterfeit foreign
money in Japan, with the same penalties as those applied to cases of
counterfeiting Japanese money.[68] Even before that, administrative
measures were taken by the Japanese to break up the illicit industry. So
far as Korean offenders were concerned, nothing was done to punish the
chief culprits. In fact, the Korean Government was hardly in a position
to do anything, having itself made large over-issues of nickels, and even
surreptitiously farmed out the right to private individuals to coin them.
This right was exercised, among others, by a relative of the Emperor.
Doubtless this official malfeasance is what Mr. Hulbert alludes to when
he speaks of the “prime movers in the deterioration of the currency.”
The history of this nickel coinage is another illustration of the _opera
bouffe_ methods which characterize Korean public administration. The
discovery of the potentialities of fiat currency probably came in the
nature of a revelation to Korean officialdom. It opened vistas of profit
never before dreamed of; all that was needed was the raw material and a
machine. Finally the industry ceased to be as remunerative as at first;
and the “Korean Executive,” all branches of it, discovered (in 1903)
that, sooner or later, even a nickel coinage will find its true level.
Such, briefly described, was the deplorable state of the financial
affairs of Korea when Mr. Megata’s administration began. This was only
a brief time ago, or in 1905. What has already been accomplished for
the reform of the Korean finances may be summarized as follows.[69] The
first step taken was the adoption of the gold standard, followed by the
promulgation of a law strictly prohibiting the private minting of nickel
coins, and the endeavor to recall this currency already in circulation.
Measures were also taken to popularize the circulation of notes issued by
the Dai Ichi Ginko (First Bank), and to enlarge the sphere of circulation
for the coins newly introduced. “The organ for the circulation of money
and the collection of the taxes having been now fairly well provided,
efforts will be made to restrict and ultimately prohibit the circulation
of the fractional cash now in use in the three southern provinces, by
encouraging the employment of notes in accordance with the law regulating
currency.” “As regards the bank-notes issued by the General Office of
the First Bank in Korea, the Korean Government has officially sanctioned
their compulsory circulation. But, it being deemed desirable to have
said Government grow firm and content in the idea that the notes are
the national currency, a contract was concluded in July, last year
(1906), between the Government and the First Bank, providing that the
pattern and denomination of the notes shall be subject to the approval
of the Resident-General and the Korean Minister of Finance; that the
amount of their issue and of the reserve be reported every week to the
said Minister; that the Korean Government have the power to institute
inquiries and examinations with respect to the issue of notes; and
that the bank be placed under reasonable obligations in return for the
exclusive privilege of issuing notes.”
The General Office of the First Bank at Seoul has now been made the
Central Treasury of the Government of Korea; and therefore receives on
deposit and pays out the exchequer funds. It is under the competent
management of Mr. Ichihara, who, after several years of study of
economics and finance in the United States, became prominent as a banker
in Japan, and was subsequently chosen Mayor of Yokohama. Its branches
and sub-branches throughout Korea are assisted by the postal organs in
handling the exchequer funds. “Notes Associations,” which undertake to
popularize the circulation of reliable negotiable bills, and Agricultural
and Industrial Banks, established at different centres for the
accommodation of long loans, are also in part the results of Mr. Megata’s
reform of the Korean finances. The most important, and doubtless most
difficult, thing remaining to be done is the purifying and reorganization
of the revenue system. For, as has already been repeatedly indicated,
nothing can exceed the measure of ignorance, extortion and corruption,
which has hitherto characterized the conduct of the provincial
administrative organs.
Perhaps the most difficult problem with which the newly appointed
Financial Adviser to the Korean Government had to cope was the
retirement of the nickel currency. The solution of this problem was
indeed difficult, but it was absolutely indispensable to the very
beginning of any systematic reform. The distinction between spurious
and genuine coins was scarcely possible; the distinction between those
counterfeited without, and those counterfeited with, the sanction of the
“Korean Executive” was impossible. The amount of both kinds was hard to
determine. According to Mr. Megata’s calculation, the old nickel coins
minted by the Government amounted in value to 17,000,000 _won_; while
the spurious, but not debased, coins in circulation may have amounted to
some 4,000,000 _won_.[70] His plan involved both the exchange of the old
nickel coins for new coins of a standard value and issued under proper
safeguards and restrictions, in accordance with the newly inaugurated
gold basis; and also the reduction of the cash by re-minting such coins
as were deficient and returning the balance to circulation. From October,
1905, the coinage of silver ten-_sen_ pieces and of bronze one-_sen_ and
one-half-_sen_ pieces was begun. By these it was intended to displace the
circulation of the old nickel coins. The coins tendered for exchange were
classified into three classes: Class A—coins exchanged at the rate of 2
old for 1 new coin; Class B—coins exchanged at the rate of 5 old for 1
new coin; and Class C—counterfeit and debased coins, defaced and returned
to the applicants. By these means there was withdrawn from circulation
of old coins, between July 1 and October 15, 1905, in Korean dollars to
the amount of 10,722,162, of which, however, 1,411,184 were received in
payment of taxes.
So radical a change in the currency of the country could not be
accomplished without working hardship in certain directions. But those
who have carefully examined the existing condition of Korean finances and
the working in detail of the plans for reform find reason for praising
the prudence and skill of Mr. Megata’s way of accomplishing a most
difficult task. The details are to be found, carefully worked out and
tabulated, in the official reports. It is enough for us to recognize the
enormous change for the better which has taken place during the past
two years in the financial condition of the peninsula, and in all the
foreign financial relations to Korean business affairs; and, at the same
time, to reply with a brief, categorical denial to certain criticisms
from unfriendly and prejudiced sources. As to the latter point, “it is
untrue,” says a trustworthy informant, “that any Korean capitalists came
forward with a _bona fide_ offer of a loan at a lower rate of interest
than that procured by the Japanese Government for the retirement of the
old nickel coinage. The only plan of the kind which was ever mooted had
in view the borrowing of foreign capital, not Japanese. A great deal
was said, _after the fact_, about the readiness of these capitalists to
intervene; but Mr. Megata was never given an opportunity to avail himself
of their alleged willingness to advance the funds until it was too late.
Mr. Megata’s first object was, of course, to obtain the money as cheaply
as possible. It was not until he had looked the situation over very
carefully, and had made enquiries concerning the possibility of making
better arrangements with foreign capitalists that he finally concluded
the arrangement with the Dai Ichi Ginko.”
Another example of the same species of criticism is shown in connection
with the story that the Korean Emperor desired to advance to the
merchants of Seoul 300,000 _yen_ to relieve the distress over the
increased stringency in the money market, which was, of course, one of
the first results of the conversion of the nickel-coin currency. “For
this offer,” the authority just quoted says, “the underlying motive
was undoubtedly political. There was distress among the merchants of
Seoul, but there was no necessity for the Emperor’s direct intervention.
If, indeed, the distress had been as great as was represented at the
time, the sum offered, 300,000 _yen_, was not sufficient to afford
permanent relief. The offer of the money was merely another instance of
Korean methods. The process of reasoning was simple: Financial distress
existed, due to the action of the Japanese Financial Adviser; His Majesty
generously came to the assistance of his embarrassed subjects; hence
gratitude to His Majesty and humiliation for the discredited Japanese
Adviser. Mr. Megata did no more than to treat the matter as its childish
nature warranted. It should be added that, in addition to the genuine
distress caused by the stringency of the money market, there was a patent
attempt to heighten the resultant agitation for political effect. This
was met by offers, due to Mr. Megata’s initiative, to advance money on
easy terms in deserving cases. The native capitalists made no move to
relieve the situation at this supposedly critical juncture.”
The recent condition of the resources and finance of Korea can be
discovered in the most trustworthy way possible under existing
circumstances, only by a critical study of the detailed reports to
which reference has already been made in this chapter. The following
more important items are taken from the Report of March, 1907. In this
report the total estimated revenue for 1907 is given at 13,189,336 _yen_,
which is an increase of 5,704,592 _yen_ over that of 1906. Of this
total, however, 3,624,233 _yen_ is extraordinary. The total estimated
expenditure for the same year is 13,963,035 _yen_, which is in excess of
that of the year of 1906, by the sum of 5,995,647 _yen_. The increase in
expenditure is partly to provide for increase in salaries—a necessary
measure if the amount of “squeezes” is to be reduced and a sufficient
number of competent and honest officials secured; but more largely
for the reform of the educational organization, for the founding and
support of technical schools, for the extension of engineering works,
the building of roads, of law courts, and other public buildings, the
founding of hospitals; and for the extension of the police and judicial
systems. As to individual items it is noticeable that the military
estimates have been reduced from 2,426,087 _yen_, in 1905, when they
were 26 per cent. of the total expenditure, to 1,522,209 _yen_, or 11
per cent. of the total expenditure for the year 1907. This sum has now
further been much reduced by the disbanding of the Korean army, with
the exception of a body of palace guards, as a consequence of the new
Convention of July, 1907.
One-tenth of the entire estimated expenditure—or, more precisely,
1,309,000 _yen_—is attributed to the Imperial Household. But even
this by no means represents the cost to the nation of the Emperor and
his Court under the former occupant of the throne. For all manner of
irregular, illicit, and scandalous ways of obtaining money for his
privy purse were resorted to by the ruler, whose character and habits
in the obtaining and use of money have already been sufficiently
described.[71] The trials which have come upon the Financial Adviser of
the Korean Government since his appointment, through the behavior of the
so-called “Korean Executive,” can scarcely be exaggerated. One of the
questions pending when Mr. Megata first assumed office concerned the
size of the allowance for the expenses of the Crown Princess’ funeral.
The Emperor’s private funds were at a low ebb (they always are); the
national treasury was impoverished (it always had been). Yet the Imperial
Treasurer, an official of the old-time stamp, insisted that one million
_yen_ was absolutely indispensable for the proper carrying out of the
burial ceremony(!). This way of plundering the treasury of the country,
which was considered especially legitimate by the Korean Court and its
parasites, Mr. Megata dealt with in that spirit of “philosophical
humor” which is characteristic of him. He patiently pointed out that the
estimated prices of many of the items called for were greatly in excess
of their market value. In this manner he finally reduced the wily claims
of the Korean official to the modest sum of a half-million _yen_. Two
full-dress rehearsals, which differed from the actual ceremony only in
the circumstance that the coffin was empty and no official invitations
to attend were issued, preceded the final pageant. On each of these
occasions the long procession marched pompously through the streets,
which were crowded with wrangling lantern-bearers, chair coolies, and
the innumerable other horde of a low-lived Korean populace, to the
dissipation of all the solemnity of a death-ceremonial, but to the
delectation of the spectators as well as the participants.
The public debt of Korea in March, 1907, is here exhibited in tabular
form:
TABLE OF NATIONAL DEBT
----------------+-----------+----------+--------+-----------+-----------
Name of Loan | Date of | Amount |Interest| Term | Date of
| Issue | | |Outstanding| Redemption
----------------+-----------+----------+--------+-----------+-----------
Treasury Bonds |June, 1905|$2,000,000| 7 %| 3 years |June, 1910
| | | | |
Currency | | | | |
Adjustment | ” 1905| 3,000,000| 6 %| 6 ” |June, 1915
| | | | |
For Increased | | | | |
Circulation |Dec., 1905| 1,500,000| 6 %| 6 ” |Dec., 1912
| | | | |
New Enterprises |March, 1906| 5,000,000| 6½ %| 5 ” |March, 1916
| | | | |
----------------+-----------+----------+--------+-----------+-----------
This debt, while insignificant as compared with that of civilized
nations generally, is by no means so when compared with the poverty of
Korea. And it will doubtless be largely increased in the near future
by the necessity of putting into operation many imperative reforms
and improvements of the existing material condition of the country.
The possibility, however, of a rapid development of the resources and
increase of revenue is also great. To take a single item: while the
amount estimated from Port Duties for the year ending December 31, 1906,
was only 850,000 _yen_, the actual income was 2,434,118 _yen_. Some
reduction in the items allowed for expenditure is also possible—for
example, that of the Imperial Household, and for the Military (a
reduction already accomplished). Under a just administration, with
a revision of the system of taxation, the resources and the revenue
can probably be doubled in a few years, and at the same time the
material welfare of the people improved. With the policy of the present
Resident-General continued in force, the prospect is therefore by no
means without dominant elements of hope for Korea’s future.
CHAPTER XIV
EDUCATION AND THE PUBLIC JUSTICE
Until recently neither public education nor public justice, in the
modern meaning of these terms, has had any existence in Korea. Even
those who were regarded as preferred candidates for government positions
in educational and judicial fields were not really fitted for the
intelligent and faithful performance of their duties—supposing (what,
in most cases, was not true) that they really desired efficiency and
true success. For the common people of Korea, indeed for all except the
most highly privileged classes, there was no opportunity for learning
and no conception or experience of the fair, legal safeguarding of human
interests and human rights. The older educational methods, so far as
method existed at all, were patterned after those of China; but they were
never so thorough or excellent of their kind as were the Chinese. Civil
service examinations were indeed required for official preferment. These
examinations were exceedingly superficial, and were not guarded against
fraud; so that the selection of successful candidates was too frequently
made on quite other grounds than those of superior excellence in passing
the examinations. To this latter fact the Korean stories of poor and
worthy candidates who have been unjustly deprived of the offices to which
they were entitled bear an ample and often dramatically pathetic witness.
While, as to the almost total absence of even-handed justice, from the
central government at the Court down to the most petty of the local
magistrates, the entire history of Korea is one continued pitiful story.
With regard to the condition of the public education as late as just
previous to, and even after the attempted reforms of 1894, we quote the
following description from the _Korean Review_ of November of 1904:
According to Korean custom and tradition, any man who knows
Chinese fairly well can become a teacher. There is no such
thing as a science of teaching, and the general average of
instruction is wretchedly poor. The teacher gets only his
deserts, which are extremely small. The traditional Korean
school-teacher, while receiving some small degree of social
consideration because of his knowledge of the Chinese
characters, is looked upon as more or less of a mendicant.
Only the poorest will engage in this work, and they do it on
a pittance which just keeps them above the starvation line.
It has been ingrained in the Korean character to reckon the
profession of pedagogy as a mere makeshift which is only better
than actual beggary. If you examine the pay-list even of the
Government schools, you will find that the ordinary wage is
about thirty Korean dollars. This means about fifteen _yen_
a month, and is almost precisely the amount that an ordinary
coolie receives. This wretchedly low estimate of the value of a
teacher’s services debauches the whole system. The men who hold
these positions are doing so because nothing better has turned
up, and they get their revenge for the inadequacy of the salary
by shirking their work as much as possible.
It would seem from this account that the contemplated reforms of the
educational system, which had been inaugurated ten years before, when the
old-fashioned civil-service examinations were abolished, had remained,
as is customary with all reforms in Korea if not enforced from without,
merely matters of so much paper. Another writer[72] about midway in this
decade gives a somewhat better account of Korean educational affairs
after the Chino-Japan war. The “present favorable aspect of education”
at that time this writer attributes to the influence of the war. It is
to be noted, however, that the “favorable aspect” covers, for the most
part, only the special schools established in Seoul and does not regard
the unimproved and still deplorable state of the public education in
the country at large. Stricter attention to the extent of this alleged
improvement, even within the city of Seoul, shows how limited it really
was. Besides well-deserved praise bestowed upon the few missionary
schools, only the governmental so-called “Normal School,” in which
30 scholars were enrolled, and which was presided over by Mr. Homer
B. Hulbert, and a school for teaching English to the sons of nobles,
numbering 35 pupils, are given as examples. Inasmuch as the latter
school had the same teacher, and he was justly complaining that his
obligation to teach the young Yang-bans interfered with his legitimate
work, the cause of the _public_ education could not have made any
considerable advances at this time. The same report speaks of a Japanese
school maintained in Seoul by the Foreign Education Society of Japan,
in the following significant way: “It was organized in April, 1898, as
a token of the sincere sympathy for the lack of a sound educational
basis in Korea, with the view of giving a thorough elementary course of
instruction to Korean youths, and ‘thus aiming to form a true foundation
of the undisputed independence of that country.’”
In further proof of the undoubted fact that the reforms of 1894 had
accomplished little in Seoul itself, and almost nothing at all in Korea
outside of the capital, we may appeal again to the testimony of the
writer in the _Korean Review_: “We do not see,” says this writer, “how
the government can be made to realize the importance of this work. When
no protest is made against the appropriation of a paltry $60,000 a year
for education as compared with $4,000,000 for the Korean army, there is
little use in expecting a change in the near future. The government could
do nothing better than reverse these figures; but the age of miracles is
past.”
“Before suggesting a possible solution of the question,” this writer
goes on to say, “we should note with care what is at present being done
to provide young men with an education. There are the seven or eight
primary schools in Seoul with a possible attendance of forty boys each.
This means a good deal less than 500 boys in this city of over 200,000
people, including the immediate suburbs. At the least estimate there
ought to be 6,000 boys in school between the ages of ten and sixteen.
Practically nothing is being done. As for intermediate education there is
a Middle School, with a corps of eight teachers and an average attendance
of about thirty boys. The building, the apparatus, and the teaching staff
would suffice for about four hundred pupils. There are several foreign
language schools, with an attendance of anywhere from twenty to eighty
each, and they are fairly successful.... Then there are the several
private schools, almost every one of which is in a languishing condition.
A Korean will start a private school on the least provocation. It runs
a few months and then closes, nobody being the wiser, though some be
sadder. When we come to reckon up the number of young Koreans who are
pursuing a course of instruction along modern lines, we find that they
represent a fraction of less than one per cent. of the men who ought to
attend, and might easily be doing so.” Such was then the condition of
the public education in Korea even down until after the beginning of the
Russo-Japanese war, or in November of 1904.
The foregoing true account of educational matters in Korea is further
confirmed and expanded by the Official Report more recently given out
in the name of the Residency-General.[73] The report, however, notices
the existence of the accepted means of education for the village
children in the provinces. These means were employed, after a debased
Confucian system, in so-called _Syo-bang_ by a sort of village dominie,
who gathered about him the children of the neighborhood and taught them
the rudiments of reading and writing the vernacular. There were in 1894
some ten thousand of these schools scattered throughout the peninsula.
In the barest rudiments of the native language the instruction they
gave was deficient; of modern education in other matters, there was
nothing. In Seoul there was also a high-school of Confucian learning (a
_Syöng-Kyūn-Koan_); where the students were taught the three “Primary”
and the four “Middle Classics,” and were given some lessons in history,
geography, composition and mathematics.
The same Report further agrees with the Article in the _Korean Review_
in considering the reforms proclaimed in 1894 by the government as
ineffective. The schools which sprung up under the “Primary School
Ordinance,” with the intention of introducing the Western system of
education, were almost without exception of the old (_Shobo_) character.
And, indeed, how could it be otherwise, when there were no teachers
who could give the rudiments of a modern education, and few pupils who
desired such an education? As for the middle-grade education which the
Seoul schools professed to give, there was little or nothing to bear out
their pretensions.
[Illustration: Street Scene in Seoul.]
The Residency-General aims, therefore, “at nothing less than the
establishment of an entirely new system of education for Korea.” But the
system does not propose to interfere with, much less wholly to close,
the existing old-fashioned Confucian institutions. It will, the rather,
gradually displace them by something better. The Government system as now
planned contemplates supplying the nation with the necessary schools of
the different grades, in accordance with the outline of reforms given
below.
1. The former “Primary Schools” have been renamed “Common
Schools.” The Common School Ordinance and Regulations have
been drawn up and put in practice; the ten primary schools
of various kinds in Seoul having been turned into Government
Common Schools, and the thirteen Primary Schools in the
provinces into Public Common Schools. The class work under
the new _régime_ was begun in September, 1905, in all these
schools. It has been arranged, further, to establish Public
Common Schools in twenty-seven principal cities and towns of
the provinces in April this year.
2. The former “Middle Schools” have been renamed “High
Schools”; and the “High School” Ordinance and Regulations
issued. The period of study in these schools has been fixed
at four years, and graduates of the Common Schools are to be
taken without the examination, which is, however, required
in the case of other candidates for admission. The number of
regular course students in each of these schools is fixed at
200, with the proviso that they may open a _Hoshu-kwa_ class
(or _interim_ class for those who need to complete their
qualification before taking up the regular course).
3. Reforms and the expansion of the scope of work, judged
necessary and advisable, have been effected for the Normal,
and the Agricultural, Commercial and Industrial Schools, which
all retain their old names, while the Medical School has been
attached to the _Tai-han-ui-won_ (or “Great Korean Hospital”).
4. Out of the 500,000 _yen_ provided for the extension of the
educational system, a sum of 340,000 _yen_ has been expended in
newly constructing, renovating, or enlarging the Common School
buildings. The remaining 160,000 _yen_ has been put in part to
the service of new buildings for the Normal, the Agricultural
and Forestry, and the Commercial Schools; and in part to the
fund for necessary construction work and equipment for the
schools of the Middle Grade.
5. Besides the schools described above, a special institution
having the name of _Syu-hak-won_ has been established
for giving education to the children of the Imperial
and aristocratic families. It has been placed under the
superintendence of the Minister of the Household. The regular
number of scholars received into this institution is fixed at
twenty. The course of instruction given is not dissimilar to
that in the common schools.
Any account of educational reforms in Korea would be quite inadequate if
it did not include mention of the new provisions for medical and surgical
treatment and for the education of native physicians and surgeons.
Incredible as it may seem, it is true that there was in the spring of
1907 only one native in all Korea who had received a thorough modern
medical education; and this one was a woman who had studied in the United
States and was connected with the medical work of the Methodist Mission
at Pyeng-yang. In connection with one of the three small hospitals
hitherto existing in Seoul there has been for some seven years a Seoul
Medical College, with only one Japanese instructor. The hospitals are
now to be united in a single large institution, for which 280,000 _yen_,
to be spent in construction, and 123,600 _yen_, for maintenance, have
already been provided. This hospital will also have charge of training
for the medical profession and for hygienic and sanitary administration.
The site has been secured and the construction of the buildings begun,
with the expectation of having them completed during the year 1907.
The educational work thus far actually accomplished in Korea has been
chiefly done by the missionary schools. Among these schools those
belonging to the Korean Mission of the Presbyterian Church in the United
States are most numerous and effective. The Annual Report of this Mission
for the year 1906, under the head of “Educational Work,” furnishes
information as to the following among other particulars. The total
enrolment of the “Academy” was 160, of whom 104 remained in school till
the close of the year. In the autumn of 1905, twelve of the students,
“contrary to advice and orders, left the school and joined the throng at
Seoul, who wanted to lay their lives on the altar of their country in the
effort to retain their national independence. The twelve were suspended
for the year. Order was finally restored, and the remaining pupils
returned to their work with renewed zeal.” The class which graduated
in June, 1906, consisted of four members. In the fall of 1906 a sum of
money amounting to somewhat more than $2,000 was collected with a view
to starting a so-called “college.” The theological instruction which was
carried on at Pyeng-yang during the months of April, May, and June, of
the same year, became the germ of a developing “Theological Seminary”
for the training of an educated native ministry. An advanced school
for girls and women had an enrolment of 53 for the year. The number
of local primary schools was 4 for boys and 3 for girls, with a total
attendance of 494; to these should be added, of the “country schools,”
62 for boys and 8 for girls, with a total attendance of 1,266. Such is
the report of the “Pyeng-yang Station.” In the “Seoul Station,” for the
same year (1906) the report shows a total of 105 boys, in 4 schools,
under 5 teachers, and of 48 girls, in 4 schools, under 4 teachers (rated
as “Primary Schools”), in the city of Seoul; and 27 schools with 303
boys and 35 girls, belonging to the churches in this station, outside of
Seoul. There was also in this district one “Intermediate and Boarding
School,” with 60 boys and 23 girls numbered among its pupils. While
the building to accommodate the boys of this school was in process
of erection, they were combined with those of a corresponding school
belonging to the Methodist Mission; and the united work carried on in
the building belonging to the latter Mission thus attained a total
enrolment of 150 pupils. Without mentioning the educational work done
in less important stations of this Mission, it is enough to say that in
the year 1906 there were 7 schools of a grade above the primary, giving
instruction to 255 boys and 125 girls, and 208 schools of the lower grade
with an enrolment of 3,116 boys and 795 girls as the aggregate number of
their pupils. Most of the schools of the primary grade, however, consist
of “classes” somewhat irregularly taught, insufficiently supplied with
teachers, and wholly without adequate permanent accommodations.
Into the actual condition of educational work in Korea, so far as such
work is dependent upon the attitude of the Koreans themselves, the
following extract from the Report of the Union High School gives a
significant glimpse:[74]
Union school work was opened up in the building known as
_Pai-chai_, and was carried on there during the year. As is
usually the case in opening a term in Korea, the first two
weeks were a period of growth. The students who were with us
last year came straggling along, while those who came for
initial matriculation found their way to us from day to day,
until about 130 names were on the roll. It will be a day of
rejoicing when Korean students come to appreciate the opening
day and are to be found in their places on that day, ready
for work. As it is now, a day or two, a week or two, or even
a longer period, matters little to them; they come to take up
their work when it is wholly convenient to them. It is easy
to see that this slip-shod way of doing things is a serious
drawback in school work, and it is hoped that in some way it
may be brought about that every day late at opening will be
counted a day lost by the student himself. But this can be
secured only when a higher value is placed upon time than it
now has. Now that our boys are fairly well classified, it is
hoped that the difficulty may in a measure be remedied by
compelling those students to drop back one form whose general
attendance grade, class-room work, and examinations do not come
up to the prescribed standard.
The Mission of the Methodist Episcopal Church in Korea, in its Conference
Report for the year 1906, gives the number of its so-called “High
Schools” as 2, with 3 teachers and 93 pupils, and of its “other schools”
as 54, with an enrolment of 1,564 day scholars. A year later the
statistics presented to the Conference stated: “The Mission maintains 106
schools with 3,787 pupils under instruction.”
In connection with the hospitals under both these Missions at Seoul and
at Pyeng-yang, a beginning has been made in the preparation of medical
text-books for native use, and in the training of natives for the medical
profession.
The showing made by the facts just stated is meagre enough, when we
consider that it is the best that can honestly be made for a modern
nation of about ten millions. There is reason to believe, however, that
the statistics exaggerate, rather than minimize, the results already
achieved along educational lines. There has, indeed, been a beginning,
but only a beginning. There are generous plans adopted and set in
operation; but the effectual working of these plans on any considerable
scale remains for the future to bring about. The interest of the Emperor
and his Court in the educational reform of Korea was no more to be
depended upon than was their interest in any other reform, or real and
substantial good, accruing to the benefit of the Korean public. So far
as these influences prevailed, the Korean system was in 1904, and would
have remained, an affair of paper only. But the Korean Department of
Education, under the Residency-General, has co-operated faithfully in
efforts to give to the country an efficient system of public education.
The former Minister of Education, now (1907) Prime Minister Yi, has
been at once the strongest and the most sincere of the Korean officials
under the Japanese Protectorate. The hope of Korea, and the realization
of the hopes of the Marquis Ito for Korea, depend upon the initiation
and execution of a wise Government policy of education more than upon
any other one influence. Unaided by Japan, Korea would never bring this
about. As said Mr. Hulbert, when in his better mind:[75] “_What Korea
wants is education_; and until steps are taken in that line there is
no use in hoping for a genuinely independent Korea. Now we believe
that a large majority of the best informed Koreans realize that Japan
and Japanese influence stand for education and enlightenment; and that
while the paramount influence of any one outside power is in some sense
a humiliation, the paramount influence of Japan will furnish far less
genuine cause for humiliation than has the paramount influence of Russia.
Russia secured her predominance by pandering to the worst elements in
Korean officialdom. Japan holds it by strength of arm, but she holds it
in such a way as to give promise of something better. The word reform
never passed the Russian’s lips. It is the insistent cry of Japan. The
welfare of the Korean people never showed its head above the Russian
horizon, but it fills the whole vision of Japan; not from altruistic
motives mainly, but because the prosperity of Korea and that of Japan
rise and fall with the same tide.”[76]
In the future development and administration of educational affairs in
Korea two principles are especially important to be kept in mind. The
first is the necessity for co-operation on the part of all the educative
forces under some system or general plan. On the one hand, the private
and missionary schools could never suffice for the educational reform
of the nation; neither could they supply adequately the needed number
or kind of schools for its proper educational development. In general,
missionary schools belong to the planting and earlier stages of religious
propagandism among peoples who have either no system of public education
or a system which is hostile to religious influences. Missionary schools
are of necessity foreign schools; when they have effectually performed
their initial work, they should somehow become a part of the native
equipment for educating the people. As we have already said, they have
until recently been almost the only—though exceedingly meagre and
faulty—means for giving the rudiments of a modern education to a small
fraction of Korean youth. They never could be developed, if they remain
simply missionary schools, so as to cope with the entire educational
problem in this land of public ignorance and of intellectual and moral
degradation. Those who are in charge of them, therefore, should be among
the most forward to welcome cordially, and effectively to assist, the
organization and advance of a national system of public education in
Korea. Otherwise their highest service can never be rendered to the
country; their most important and ultimate purpose of contributing toward
the evolving of an intelligent Christian nation can never be realized.
On the other hand, any plans for the establishing and developing of a
system of education in Korea at the present time should be wise and
generous in the matter of taking into its confidence, and availing
itself of, the assistance of the mission schools. So miserably poor is
Korea in all resources of this character, that the barest principles
of economics enforce the necessity of her availing herself of all
possible helps. Moreover, the converts to Christianity—although a very
considerable proportion of them are ignorant of the truths, and negligent
of the morals, of the foreign religion they suppose themselves to have
espoused—are multiplying rapidly, and are destined to become of more
and more political and social significance in the near future. Some
sort of regulated co-operation and conformity to a general plan should,
therefore, as speedily as possible be secured between the Government and
the private Christian schools. The Japanese and Korean Governments and
the Missionary Boards should speedily agree upon some common plan for
the requirements of the primary and secondary grades of instruction, and
thus actively assist each other in the attainment of their common end.
That this cannot be done without sacrificing the special interests deemed
most important to each, it would be in contempt of the good sense and
sincerity of both to affirm.
The second most important principle to set in control of the educational
system of Korea is this. At first, and for a long time to come, it
should be pretty strictly limited to fitting the Koreans themselves
for a serviceable life, in Korea, and under the conditions, physical,
social, and economic and political, of Korea. To educate—after the
fashion followed too much by Great Britain in India—thousands of Korean
_babus_, who thus become unfitted for the pressing needs of their country
at this present day, and inclined to idleness rather than any hard and
disagreeable but useful work, would be a mistake which neither the
Government nor the Missions can afford to make. It is a fact, however,
that, up to the present time, too large a proportion of the Korean youth,
whether educated abroad or in the missionary schools at home, have
lapsed into this worthless class. When called upon to _work_—manfully,
faithfully, persistently, doing with his might what his hand finds to
do—the Korean, like the Indian _babu_, is likely to show that his modern
education has the more unfitted, rather than the better fitted, him
for the effectual service of his country. If this should be the result
of modern education, it would be scarcely more to be commended, under
existing conditions in Korea, than was the education of the old-time
Confucian schools.
The extension of the educational system of Korea ought, therefore,
for some time to come to be almost exclusively limited to these two
lines—namely, to providing the barest elements of a modern education
for all the children of Korea, and to the equipping and developing of
the means for fitting the youths of both sexes for the most needed
forms of public service. The time to spend large sums of money on the
higher branches of a liberal culture has not come as yet for Korea. The
present urgent need of the country is for men who will tend her fields
and forests, develop her mines and manual arts and manufactures with
intelligence; run her railroad trains with safety; who will occupy her
magistracies with some knowledge of ethics and of law; and care for
her sick and injured with skill in medicine and surgery. Colleges and
universities for rearing scholars, authors, philosophers, or gentlemen of
learned leisure with Government sinecures, can bide their time.
The deplorable condition of the Public Justice in Korea, from the
beginnings of the history of the United Kingdom down to the present
time, has been both assumed and illustrated in the preceding pages.
It is difficult to give any adequate picture of this condition in few
words. The restraints of a constitution or a recognized legal code have
had no existence. Court and local magistrates have been alike, with rare
exceptions, either inefficient or wholly corrupt. The administrative
and judicial functions have not been distinguished, and both have been
under the control of “influence,” and devoted to “squeezes” and bribes.
Of this illegal and unjust condition the police and the army were,
under the old system, the instruments. And whenever during these sad
centuries of injustice an occasional monarch, or a few of the inferior
officials, attempted reform, if in the one case the attempt was partially
successful, the old condition soon returned; while the inferior official
who wished to be more just than his colleagues, by this very attempt
risked his position or even his head.
Among the reforms contemporaneous with the Chino-Japan war (1894), the
remedy for the existing maladministration of justice in Korea naturally
had a prominent place. Some of the forms of injustice then in common
use—such as the bribing of judges and the punishment of accused persons
without even the semblance of a trial—had no justification under Korean
law, so far as law existed at that time. Other equally deplorable
forms of injustice were, however, strictly legal;—as, for example,
the infliction of penalties on the innocent relatives of a condemned
criminal, and the imprisonment of the household of an official charged
with extortion. In particular, the use of torture—barbarous in kind and
extreme in cruelty—was in “full accord” with the legal system of the
Ming dynasty in China, which formed the basis of the Korean code. Of the
older forms of torture some, such as crushing the knee-caps, slitting
the nostrils, applying pincers or hot irons, had already been in 1894
abolished by the Ming dynasty; but a great number of equally painful
forms of torture were still legally in practice at that time. Among
such were seating the victim on hot coals, driving splinters under the
toe-nails, applying fire to the feet and hands, pounding the shins, and
squeezing the ankles. On the eleventh of January, 1895, however, the
Minister of Justice obtained the king’s assent to the abolition of all
the more severe forms of torture _except in capital cases_. To enforce
confession of guilt by beating with a stick was still to be allowed.[77]
The reforms promised and inaugurated in 1895, with respect to the
improvement of the administration of justice, like all the other reforms
of that time, scarcely went beyond the so-called “paper stage.” Some
forms of torture were, indeed, no longer customarily practised; but on
the whole the barbarous treatment of accused and convicted criminals
was not greatly improved. In civil cases the practice of the Court and
of the magistrates was never worse than during the period preceding the
Russo-Japanese war. It was, as has already been shown (p. 233 _f._), “an
orgy of independence.”
In the opinion of Marquis Ito, when he became Resident-General, the
primary and most important thing in the interests of the public justice
was the discovery, systematizing, and promulgation of the “law of
the land.” But how should this difficult task be accomplished? Or—as
involving subordinate questions of great importance—upon what foundation
of principles should the task be undertaken? In the reforms of 1894-95
the plans of the Korean and Japanese enthusiasts involved the sudden
making of all things new. At once, a tolerably complete modern code was
to be devised and forced upon the people of Korea. In accordance with
these plans an abundance of legislation was enacted; but most of it was,
of necessity, ineffective, since it was neither adapted to the present
condition of Korean civilization nor ever honestly applied. At the
present time in Japan and in view of the large increase of power given to
the Resident-General by the Convention of 1907, there is a difference of
opinion as to the proper procedure in the reform of the public justice
in Korea. A certain party would repeat the mistakes of more than a
decade ago. They would have the Japanese Protectorate secure the “entire
adoption of the new Japanese Criminal Code, and in civil suits provide
Korea with ‘an entirely new set of laws’ patterned after those of modern
civilized nations.” This would be a comparatively easy matter, so far
as the _preparation of a code_ is concerned. But it would undoubtedly
be relatively defective so far as the actual reform of justice in Korea
is concerned. “The Resident-General,” says Mr. Stevens, “is manifestly
determined to avoid this mistake, and to provide, in the first place,
some adequate means for the enforcement of the law.” Meantime, the work
of codification is proceeding cautiously. The first step in this work was
directed toward the “law affecting real estate.”
“This law”—namely, the law affecting real estate—“has been taken up
before all others, because, despite the fact that in the present economic
condition of the country immovables form the most important object of
ownership, Korea as yet possesses no law of any real efficiency to
protect rights relating to real property. For instance, in selling
and buying a piece of land or in mortgaging it, the parties concerned
have nothing to go by but to follow the old custom of handing over and
receiving the _bunki_, or title deeds, which are generally in the
form of a file of documents vouchsafing the transaction. It so happens
that the country is now flooded with forged _bunkis_, and there is
really no security for property. For this reason, in July last (1906)
the Resident-General caused the Korean Government to institute a Real
Property Law Investigation Commission, and urged the investigation of
established customs and usages pertaining to immovables, with a view to
drafting with the utmost despatch a law of real property of a simple and
concise character. The Commission made rapid progress in its work, and
in consequence of this the Land and Buildings Certification Regulations
(Imperial Ordinance) and the Detailed Rules of operation thereof (Justice
Department Ordinance) were promulgated respectively on the 31st of
October and the 7th of November following. According to the Regulations,
in the case of transfer of land lots and buildings by sale, exchange,
or gift, and in that of mortgaging them, the contracts are certified to
by a _Kun_ magistrate or _Pu_ prefect; and a contract thus certified
constitutes a full legal document, by virtue of which the transfer may be
validly carried out without decisions of any law court. When, however,
one of the parties to the contract happens to be an alien, not a Korean
subject, the document needs to be additionally examined and certified to
by a Resident, otherwise the document is lacking in legal efficacy. When
neither of the parties are Korean subjects, certification by a Resident
alone is sufficient. Simple as the law is, its effect is far-reaching.
To give an instance, originally treaties with Korea took cognizance of
a foreigner’s right to possess land only within the settlements and one
_ri_ zone around them, and hitherto all foreigners have experienced
considerable difficulty in securing landed property in the interior
of the country; but now, the above Regulations recognize the right of
foreigners to possess land in the interior, and the result of their
promulgation is the practical opening of the whole empire to foreigners.
“Following this line of action, the Real Property Investigation
Commission is steadily working on laws of various descriptions, and it is
expected that before long that body will be able to recommend some plan
to place the land system of Korea on a solid and fair basis. As soon as
the Real Property Law is drawn up and promulgated in a perfected form,
the codification of other laws will be taken in hand.”[78]
The necessity for providing means effectively to enforce the existing
and the newly to be enacted laws is obvious to any one who is acquainted
with the methods of Korean justice down to the present time. This
necessity becomes the more imperative on account of the condition of
dissatisfaction and unrest which followed the Russo-Japanese war and the
establishment of the Japanese Protectorate over Korea. It was further
emphasized and brought to an acute form at the time when the abdication
of the Emperor and the disbandment of the Korean army, on the one hand,
exaggerated the alleged reasons for revolt, and, on the other hand, let
loose the forces most ready and appropriate to make revolt effective. The
experience in connection with the repeated attempts made to assassinate
the Korean Ministry showed plainly enough that Korean police and military
could not be depended upon to protect the rights or the lives of their
own countrymen. Subsequent events showed that these same “minions of the
law” were most dangerous to the property and lives of foreigners. Hence
the imperative need of a reorganization of the police. On this matter of
reform, the Report of the Resident-General discourses as follows:
In olden times Korea had practically no police system. Under
the central Government there was indeed the “Burglar Capture
Office,” while the provincial Governors were privileged to
exercise police powers for the maintenance of peace and order.
But the evil practice of selling offices being prevalent, the
officials made it their business to extort unjust exactions,
and the people enjoyed no security of life and property. In
the year 503 of the Korean national era (1894) the “Burglar
Capture Office” was closed and replaced by a “Kyöng-mu-chyöng”
(Police Office), the latter being entrusted with the work of
administering and superintending the police and prison affairs
within the city of Seoul. The capital was then divided into
five wards with a police station in each. Further, the Korean
Government engaged advisers from among police inspectors of
our Metropolitan Police Board, and put in force various laws
and ordinances, defining and regulating the duties of the
police force, besides adopting fixed uniforms for men and
officers, all in imitation of the Japanese system. At the
same time the “Kyöng-mu-koan” was created in the provincial
Governor’s Offices, for the exclusive management of local
police affairs. Since then numerous changes have followed,
and the Japanese police advisers have been dismissed. In 1895
the Kyöng-mu-chyöng was abolished, and a new Department of
Police was established. Then the police administration of the
whole country was centralized in the hands of the Minister of
Police. This innovation was, however, but short lived, and
the Kyöng-mu-chyöng came to be resuscitated, the whole police
system being now placed in the control of the Minister of Home
Affairs. At that time, in virtue of her treaty with Korea,
Japan not only took her own means of protecting her subjects
residing in that country, but despatched police officials
who were required in carrying out her rights connected with
her Consular Courts. Subsequent to the Japan-China war, the
number of Japanese resident in Korea steadily increased, and
as years went by a similar change took place with regard to
the number of our police attached to the Consulates, so that
the latter had finally to have a regular police station within
each Consular compound. Thus it happened that by the time of
the Russo-Japanese war, Korea had come to have two police
systems in force in the land. When the war broke out Korea
engaged Japanese advisers for her police administration, and
everything connected therewith, large or small, underwent
changes in accordance with their views. At that juncture there
was necessity, for military reasons, of introducing into Korea
Japanese military police or gendarmerie, so that the country
has since come to have simultaneously within her bounds three
police organizations—namely, the native police, the Japanese
Consulate police, and the gendarmerie.
On the establishment of the Residency-General, after the
termination of the war, all three systems were brought under
the unified control of the Resident-General, in such a manner
as to promote the national tranquillity of Korea, each
supplementing the work of the other. Under the new arrangement
all ordinary police work is placed in the hands either of the
Japanese or of the Korean police, to suit the needs of the
localities concerned; while the gendarmes are to look after the
higher class of police affairs or those relating to acts that
tend to endanger the safety of the Korean Imperial House, or
to defy the authority of the Korean Government, or to disturb
the friendly relations between Japan and Korea. At one time
the gendarmerie was divided into twelve sub-companies, and
fifty-five detail stations were established for them. Under the
new _régime_ 184 men have been honorably discharged, having
been retained in the service beyond their regular term, or
belonging to the reserve. At the same time the number of detail
stations was reduced to thirty-two. The need of augmenting the
strength of the Japanese and native police being increasingly
felt, measures are being steadily taken in this direction
within the limits which the circumstances allow.
The laws of the land may be enlightened in their construction, and the
police thoroughly well organized and efficient; but if the courts of
justice are not intelligent and honest, the public justice is not secure.
In Korea, as in China, from which country she derived her administrative
and judicial system, two principal evil influences have prevented any
effectual reform in the judiciary. These are the failure to separate
the executive and judiciary branches of government, and the fact that
officials generally have not been dependent upon sufficient salaries for
their reward, but, chiefly, upon the amounts which could be squeezed out
of the offices.
“The way in which justice has been administrated in Korea,” says the
Report, “is too revolting to all sense of decency to be told in detail.
Her political development has never yet attained that stage when the
executive and judiciary branches of government separate and become
independent of each other. The privilege of meting out justice has always
been in the hands of executive officials, and abuses have grown up in
consequence of this. Justice, which should always be fair and upright,
has generally allowed itself to be influenced by the amount of bribe
offered, and right or wrong often changed places according to the power
and influence of the parties concerned. The conviction of innocent
people, the confiscation of their property, and the liberation of the
guilty, all under a travesty of trials, have been common occurrences;
very frequently, too, contributions in money or in kind have been
extorted under threats of litigation. Korea, indeed, possesses a law
court organization by virtue of a law promulgated in 1895, and according
to it the courts are of the following descriptions: 1. Special Court of
Law (tries crimes committed by members of the Imperial family). 2. Court
of Cassation. 3. Circuit Courts. 4. (Seoul) The Trade Port Courts (courts
of first resort). 5. District Courts (courts of first resort), and their
branches (when needed).”
“The truth is, however, that this organization exists merely on paper,
the only courts in actual existence being the Court of Cassation and
the Seoul Court. In the provinces, the governors, commissioners and
superintendents are, as of old, also judges and hear and judge both civil
and criminal cases. The _Kun_ magistrates, too, retain their judiciary
powers, which are, however, limited in extent. Even at the independent
courts, such as the Court of Cassation and the Seoul Court, judges and
prosecutors are men totally deficient in legal knowledge and training,
and their judgments often end in the miscarriage of justice. It is not
surprising that justice is generally made the object of ridicule and
contempt in Korea both by the natives and by foreigners. Treaties give
foreigners from the West the right to bring an action against the natives
in the Korean Courts in cases of a certain description; but none of them
has ever made use of such a right. When any legal dispute arises, these
foreigners always make an international question of it and bring it
before the Residency-General. Leave the situation as it at present is,
and the day will never come when Korea may be freed from the system of
extra-territoriality. It being evident that the chief cause responsible
for this regrettable state of things lies in the judiciary in force and
the incompetency of judges, the Resident-General has decided first to
effect reform on these two points, with others to follow gradually. The
reforms he has already put in practice for this purpose may be outlined
as follows” [Here given only in summary form]:—
The creation of the office of Chief Councillor in the Department of
Justice (the incumbent to be a Japanese); increase in the number of
judges, procurators, and clerks; the constituting of the Prefects of the
eleven Prefectures to act as Judges; provision for proper offices and for
the travelling and other expenses of the Judges and the Law Courts; the
introduction of rules of the civil service order, so that care may be
exercised in the appointment of judiciary officials, etc.
It has already been made sufficiently clear, however, that the one
instrument of the public justice which comes closest to the common
people of Korea, and which determines more than any other the spirit of
satisfaction with their condition or of unrest and revolt, is the local
magistracy. On the “Reform of Local Administration” the Report remarks as
follows:
One thing that has defied satisfactory solution ever since
the beginning of the present Yi dynasty is the problem of the
political division of Korea. Soon after the Japan-China war,
Pak Yong-hyo, who was then Minister of Home Affairs, tried a
radical change by turning the country into 23 prefectures.
It was an innovation indeed, but short-lived, for not long
after the country returned practically to its former division
of 13 provinces, one crown district, three prefectures and
341 districts (excepting Han-Yang _pu_), with a Governor for
each province, a Crown Commissioner for the crown district, a
Magistrate for each district, a Prefect for each prefecture,
and a Superintendent for each open port. Nor has this division
seen much change since then. It is true that the question of
local administration was one of the many that confronted the
Residency-General when it set out on its work of politically
regenerating Korea. A special Commission was instituted, and
under the direction of the Resident-General its members carried
investigations deep into the root of the evils and abuses to
be removed. As the result all changes, sudden and radical,
from fear of unnecessarily provoking popular excitement, were
carefully avoided. Having in view, however, the new condition
of things, the Commission decided on a plan of provincial
reforms, which took the form of an Imperial Ordinance
proclaiming a “New Official Organization” and “Detailed Rules”
for its operation. These were issued on the 28th of September
last and put in force on the 1st of October.
The more detailed features of the reforms proposed are uninteresting and
difficult to understand for one not making a special study of Korean
local administration from the expert’s point of view. In general, the
reforms are intended to separate the appointment and control of the local
magistracy from Court and other corrupt official influences; to put a
stop to the evil practice “of selling offices by holding examinations for
official candidates”; to reduce the temptation to increase the squeezes,
by increasing the legitimate salary and by providing properly for office,
travelling, and other expenses; and to adopt and install “a new official
organization for the provincial governors and their subordinates,
classifying the nature of the business to be managed by them and defining
their powers of issuing administrative orders, of levying local taxes
and of conducting other affairs.” These reforms require a considerable
increase in the number of officials in both the _Do_ (or Province) and
_Pu_ (or Prefecture); but they leave the _Kuns_ (or smaller districts)
substantially unchanged in this regard.
Besides the above changes, the Residency-General has already established
a Residency or a Branch Residency in each of the provincial capitals.
Further, the Local Administration Investigation Commission is now making
enquiries into village constitutions, village assembly regulations,
and other village association systems, handed down from olden times.
From the data thus obtained, a plan will be drawn up for the ultimate
introduction of the system of local autonomy. As to the reorganization
of the Law Court system, the independence of the Department of Justice,
the separation of tax collection from routine executive business as the
result of the establishment of a new Taxation Bureau with a chief of its
own, etc., these form, no doubt, a part of local administration reform.
Only the result can tell how far, and how soon, these plans for the
reform of the public justice in Korea can so change its present
deplorable condition in this regard as to satisfy the reasonable wishes
of the Marquis Ito, and the Japanese Government, so far as it is
supporting him in his peaceful and benevolent plans. The events which
have occurred since this Report on Administrative Reforms was composed,
have, on the one side, given to the Resident-General and his helpers a
freer hand in a more open field, but on the other they have augmented the
responsibilities and in some respects increased the difficulties of their
task.
CHAPTER XV
FOREIGNERS AND FOREIGN RELATIONS
By the Protocols of February and August, 1904, and still more perfectly
by the Convention of November, 1905, Japan became the sole official
medium for communication between Korea and all other foreign Powers.
Indeed, as the history of the relations between the two countries—already
narrated in summary form—abundantly shows, thus much of control over
Korean affairs had been demonstrated to be necessary for the welfare
of both. But apart from considerations which are fitted to influence
the judgment of either Japanese or Koreans, the question arises: How is
the Protectorate of Japan likely to affect other foreigners in their
relations to Korea? At present the foreign interests concerned in the
solution of the general problem are chiefly of two orders: they are the
interests of trade and commerce, and the missionary interests. The larger
diplomatic controversies, except so far as these may possibly arise
in adjusting these two classes of interests, have now, it would seem,
been satisfactorily arranged for some time to come. The recent treaties
concluded between Japan on the one side, and Great Britain, France,
and Russia on the other, all expressly guarantee respect for Japan’s
control over the peninsula. In addition to the arrangement for a sort
of reciprocal “hands-off” from each other’s possessions and “paramount
interests” in the Far East, into which France and Russia have entered,
Great Britain has pledged her support in defence of the Protectorate.
All these nations have, moreover, solemnly committed themselves to the
maintenance of the integrity of the Empire of China and to the policy of
the so-called “open door.” How unlikely it is, then, that the Japanese
Government should proceed at once to violate treaty obligations which it
has itself been at such pains and expense of men and money to secure, and
the maintenance of which, to the satisfaction of its foreign allies, so
intimately concerns its own future welfare.
These same Conventions which confer certain rights upon the Japanese
Government in Korea just as plainly put this Government under certain
solemn obligations. The foreign Powers have, strictly speaking, no
diplomatic corps at Seoul. Their Ambassadors and Ministers at Tokyo are
their representatives for Korea as well as for Japan. All foreign Powers
are represented by officials residing in the capital city of Korea who
have consular functions only. Since, however, such functions must, in
general, be exercised on the spot, and since other business can often
be transacted only there, with any tolerable degree of convenience, the
Consuls at Seoul are admitted to correspond with the Residency-General
and with the various subordinate Residencies. Naming them in the order
of their seniority, Belgium, China, Great Britain, Russia, France, and
the United States are now (in 1907) each represented by a Consul-General,
and Italy by a Consul. “Where foreign rights of any kind,” says Mr.
Stevens—who in saying this speaks both as Adviser to the Korean Council
of State and also as Counsellor to the Resident-General—“are threatened
or molested, it is the duty of the Japanese Government to furnish
safeguards or to provide a remedy. The Japanese Government has the
right to employ for that purpose all the machinery which the laws of
Korea place in its hands; and it would seem logically to follow, also,
that where such means prove inadequate, it is the right, as well as the
duty, of the Japanese Government to insist that the deficiency shall be
supplied by appropriate legislation or by such other method as may be
reasonable and just under the circumstances.”
It does not follow from this, however, that either the rights of the
Japanese Government allow, or their obligations compel, it to go to any
length demanded by foreign business men, or concessionaires, or even by
foreign missionaries, in promoting their real or fancied interests, or in
redressing their fancied as well as their real wrongs. There are plainly
limits to be observed in meeting demands and requests of this character.
It may be the duty of the Japanese Government, for example, to secure
and defend all the mining and other concessions made to foreigners which
can prove themselves to have been honestly obtained and administered in
substantial accord with the initial contract. Inasmuch as few concessions
of any sort among those obtained from the last Emperor can stand the
test of honesty, or even of tolerable freedom from corruption, it will
doubtless be well for the Japanese Government not to be over-scrupulous
or too curiously enquiring in many cases. But it certainly is not
its duty to allow the Imperial treasury to be plundered _ad libitum_
by contracts made, and concessions obtained, through combinations of
corrupt Korean officials with greedy and unscrupulous foreigners. Again:
it may be the duty of the Japanese Government to protect a certain
“freedom of the press,” in the case of publications owned and managed
by foreigners, even if printed in the vernacular and distributed widely
among the more ignorant and excitable of the native population. It is
certainly greatly to the credit of the Japanese officials to have borne
so quietly the slanderous and abusive attacks upon their government of
one such publication in Seoul. But surely there may be a limit here also.
Undoubtedly that limit was reached, when the vernacular edition of this
publication excited the natives to sedition, revolt, and assassination,
especially at so critical a juncture in the national affairs as occurred
during the spring and summer of 1907. Possibly, there is also a limit
beyond which misrepresentation and falsehood directed against individuals
not connected with the government ought not to be allowed to pass.[79]
It must also be remembered that the success of the Residency-General
in the economic, educational, and judicial reform of Korea depends
largely upon husbanding and developing the resources of Korea. In all
this, Mr. Megata, the Financial Adviser, has been the right-hand man of
Marquis Ito, the Resident-General. If these resources are squandered,
or “conceded” in such a way as to deprive the Korean Government and the
Korean people of the natural wealth of their own land, then the plans
for every kind of reform will be crippled, if not wholly thwarted. To
encourage legitimate business with all nations is for the advantage of
both the Japanese and the Korean Governments; such a policy is directly
in the line of Marquis Ito’s intentions for the reform and uplifting of
the economic condition of the peninsula. No one person would suffer so
severely in mind and in reputation as would the Resident-General himself
if this policy failed through any fault of his own or of his country’s
administration in Korea. But, on the other hand, to check the evil
consequences of illegitimate schemes of promotion already accomplished,
and to prevent the initiation of such schemes in the future, is an
equally necessary part of this policy.
On the whole subject of the attitude of the Japanese Government toward
foreign business interests in Korea the following lengthy quotations may
be considered as authoritative:
The foreign trade of Korea has been steadily increasing,
especially during the past six years. Making due allowance
for the increase of imports brought about by the war, the
proportion of normal increase gives every sign of healthy
growth. Japan’s trade is much the largest. Korean exports go
almost exclusively to Japan, except ginseng, which is sent
to China. Of the imports from Japan a large proportion are
foreign, as Japan is put down in the Customs Returns as the
country from which the importation was made, the country of
origin not being given. As Japan is the place of transhipment
for much of the trade, and as much of it passes through
Japanese hands, it would be difficult to differentiate. There
are certain important staples, however, concerning which there
can be no ambiguity—American kerosene, for example, which
practically monopolizes the market. Rails and railway equipment
also come from foreign countries, the cars and engines from the
United States. As Korea increases in wealth and her purchasing
capacity grows correspondingly, there will be a field for other
machinery, modern farming implements among the rest, no doubt.
American and European enterprise has not been so conspicuous
in the field of ordinary commercial enterprise as in other
directions. Concessions of one kind and another have attracted
more attention than trade and commerce. The most conspicuous
and successful undertaking of this kind is the Oriental
Consolidated Mining Company at Unsan in Northern Korea,
originally American; now it is generally understood to be
largely English in ownership. This was the first mining
concession ever granted to foreigners in Korea. His Majesty
the Emperor was originally a half owner in the company, but
sold out his interest for 300,000 _yen_ and a payment of 25,000
_yen_ per annum. The company’s concession covers a large area,
and the capital is $5,000,000, American money. At the outset
the enterprise did not look very promising, but by skilful
management it grew until it reached its present important
proportions.
It would probably be idle to attempt an analysis of the
advantages and disadvantages to Korea of enterprises of this
kind. Certainly, if there are any advantages, the Unsan
concession should be a favorable example. That it has been of
great advantage to Korea is at least an open question. On the
one side, in its favor, may be set the large amounts annually
expended by the company in wages, etc. This is undoubtedly a
good thing while it lasts; but gold mines are exhausted sooner
or later, and the benefits they confer are only temporary. The
abandoned mining sites in America, no matter how prosperous in
their day, can hardly be instanced as examples of prosperity
for the people of the country in which they are located, who
are _not_ owners of successful mines.... Against this, and
other like enterprises, may be cited, for one thing, the
disadvantage of the wholesale destruction of timber. The
country about Unsan has been practically denuded of timber, and
in an agricultural country like Korea this is undoubtedly an
evil.
This much has been said of the effects of the operations of a
successful company, conducted on a conservative basis, merely
to show that the advantages of the development of Korean
resources about which so much has been said, are not unmixed
blessings. The matter is of some importance in the light of all
that has been published of late upon the subject.... English
and German companies each obtained a mining concession, but
neither proved financially successful. Japanese also obtained
one concession, in which American capital is at present
interested.... The system of granting mining concessions
was open to so many objections that foreign representatives
frequently importuned the Korean Government to issue mining
regulations under which the mineral resources of the country
could be systematically developed. Nothing was done, however,
until after the establishment of the Residency-General,
when a mining law was passed. This law provides for mining
under proper safeguards as regards public and private
interests. Under the old system, or rather lack of system, the
concessionaire could do practically what he pleased within
the limits of his concession. Now he must conform to laws and
regulations which permit him to carry on his business under
conditions which promote the interests and conserve the rights
of all concerned.
The business methods which have developed in Korea since
intercourse with foreigners began are the natural outgrowth of
the circumstances and of the practices prevailing before that
time. Reference is not here intended to ordinary commercial
transactions, but to that species of business which has its
rise in government favors and thrives by government patronage.
In a country where the Government is the fountain-head of
favors of every description, it was perhaps inevitable that
the results should be those which we see in Korea. Viewed from
the most favorable standpoint they certainly leave much to be
desired. The Government, or, as has really been the actual
fact, the Emperor, has been persuaded to enter into a number
of business enterprises, both public and private, not a single
one of which has been successful and every one of which has
been the occasion of loss either to the public treasury or to
His Majesty’s privy purse. Undertakings of various kinds—wooden
manufactories, glass factories, railways, etc.—have been
projected, but have gone no further than the stage of involving
the employment of foreign directors, assistants, and the like,
and have stopped there. Sometimes foreign experts have been
employed who were really capable of conducting the business for
which their services were secured. They have come to Korea,
only to discover that no preparations have been made to carry
on the enterprises with which they were to be connected. In
other cases, the persons engaged to oversee the projected
enterprises have been notoriously incompetent, and the
whole affair has smacked largely of fraud from beginning to
end. It would require too much space to recount the various
undertakings of a public nature which have been attempted and
have ignominiously failed. The result has been monotonously
the same in every instance—namely, the payment by the Korean
Government of large sums of money for useless material and for
services never rendered. Another source of heavy loss has been
the contracts made on behalf of the Government for all sorts of
things—rice that was never needed, arms and ammunition which
were worthless, railroad material which was never delivered,
and so on through the long list of wasteful expenditure of the
public funds. It is something hardly capable of direct proof,
but there is no reasonable doubt that almost every one of these
enterprises had its inspiration in the desire for illicit gain
by one or another of the officials interested. The explanation
of the foreigners interested may be summed up in the phrase,
“that is the way business is done in Korea.” The Empire has
been the happy hunting-ground for the foreign business man
not over-scrupulous as to the methods by which money was to
be made. Equally it has held out golden opportunities to the
promoter and hunter for “concessions.” This does not include
those foreigners who are willing to take the chances of
success and the pecuniary risks inseparable from enterprises
like mining, for example, but that other class of promoters
who desire to get something for nothing, and then sell it to
others. The gentlemen who have so much to say about “enlisting
foreign capital” in the development of Korea’s resources will
generally be found upon investigation to be prepared only to
“enlist” some one else’s capital. The promoter has his uses,
no doubt, and, as a pioneer in new fields, unquestionably
accomplishes good in some cases. Unfortunately, in Korea
the results of his activities can hardly be classed in this
category.... Especially is this true of those enterprises with
which His Majesty has been most prominently identified as an
investor. As before said, they have invariably resulted in
heavy losses to the privy purse. Various explanations have been
given for this, but the fact remains and cannot be disputed.
Others have prospered, but so far as His Majesty is concerned,
the balance has always been on the debit side of the ledger.
If it were necessary to multiply instances of the injury done to the
economic interests of the Korean people, and of the difficulty of
adjusting in any half-satisfactory way the claims of foreign promoters
and concessionaires, it could easily be done upon good evidence. But
mention of a few such instances only—with the suppression of names and
details, for obvious reasons—will suffice to convince the reader, however
“patriotic” in such matters, who has even the semblance of a candid mind.
Prominent among examples is that of a foreign company of contractors,
who have obtained from the Korean Government a variety of claims, such
as public-utility franchises, and a mining concession. Of the former,
one franchise had cost the Privy Purse of the Korean Emperor not less
than 600,000 _yen_ up to 1902; and when it was sold to satisfy a mortgage
held by these same contractors, although Mr. J. McLeavy Brown, at the
time Commissioner-General of Customs, who had been appointed to audit the
accounts, recommended that items aggregating 1,100,000 _yen_ should be
disallowed, and gave his judgment to the effect that foreclosure would be
a grave injustice to His Majesty, the latter was induced to buy one-half
of the property at 750,000 _yen_. The whole of the same property not long
before had been offered at 800,000 _yen_! This public utility still fails
to yield a dollar in dividends to the royal investor.
Another franchise of this same company has been sold, without any
investment of capital on their part, to an English company for £15,000
cash and £50,000 in fully paid-up ordinary shares. Under the apparent
impression that they have even yet not sufficiently profited from
the Privy Purse of the Emperor and the national treasury of this
poverty-stricken land, the same company is bringing all possible
“influence” to bear in order to validate their claims to a “Mining
Concession.” With regard to this last claim, which is still contested, it
is enough for our purposes to say that it was surreptitiously obtained;
that the stipulation which required a capital of $1,000,000 fully paid up
at the time of incorporation has been violated; and that the provision
which guarantees that no other mining concession should be made to any
one, native or foreign, until these concessionaires had made their
choice, is plainly _contra bonos mores_. Moreover, negotiations have been
entered into by this company for the sale of this concession to another
foreign syndicate.
The mining claim of these foreign promoters, although it has not yet
been wholly adjusted is, indeed, a _cause célèbre_ on account of the
large sums involved; but it only illustrates a special combination of the
elements which are found, with a difference of mixture, in all the cases
of this general character. There was the foolish and wanton Emperor, who
has little intelligent care for the material or other interests of his
people; the crafty and corrupt Koreans, officials and ex-officials; the
land rich in unexplored and undeveloped resources, and the “enterprising”
foreigner, unscrupulous as to his methods and ready to utilize—either
truly or falsely—his alleged “influence” with the officials of his own
Government. Another case, in which all the participants were Koreans with
the exception of one foreigner, has also been charged to the account of
the Japanese Government on the debit side. This foreigner, having put
forth the claim to be a mining engineer (he was in truth only a miner—a
so-called “three-_yen_-a-day” man), associated himself with a Korean,
popularly known as “Pak the liar,” and through the latter obtained the
assistance at Court of a powerful official and his friends. A “company”
was formed, which obtained from the Emperor an elaborate document of
the “franchise” sort, giving them the exclusive right to find coal-oil
where no coal-oil was, to bottle mineral water from springs which have no
valuable qualities to their water, and to export coal which was totally
unfit for export. Appeals were constantly made, and answered, for funds
to further this enterprise, until His Majesty became tired, and the whole
affair was wound up. This was done by paying the foreigner 12,000 _yen_
claimed as back pay. He then departed to his native land to complain that
the Japanese were inimical to the investment of foreign capital in Korea.
The net result was a few thousand tons of coal taken from one small
mine—sold, but the proceeds never accounted for; an expenditure from the
Privy Purse variously estimated at from 300,000 _yen_ to 400,000 _yen_;
and the enrichment of certain Korean officials and ex-officials. For
all this Mr. Megata, the Japanese Financial Adviser, had to provide the
money. The “Poong Poo” Company itself never had any money to put into its
“promoting” schemes.
That the charge of favoring their own countrymen in the matter of
concessions and monopolies, which has been somewhat freely made abroad
against the Japanese Government in Korea, is not justifiable, the
following proof may be cited. At some time between January 15 and January
29 of 1905, Mr. Yi-chai-kuk, then Minister of the Imperial Household
of Korea, recognized and signed no fewer than twenty-three concessions
granted to one Yi-Sei-chik, a Korean, and his four Japanese associates.
These concessions included the consolidation of taxation on land, the
utilization of the water-ways for various purposes, and state monopolies
of tobacco, salt, kerosene, etc. Imperial orders were secretly given to
the same Yi to raise a foreign loan of several million _yen_ for the
purpose of detecting the secrets of the Military Headquarters stationed
in Korea, as well as of the Tokyo Government, and to make reports about
them.[80]
These iniquitous transactions in which Koreans and Japanese were
concerned were made, when discovered, the occasion of a memorandum of
protest. This memorandum reminded the Korean Government and Court that
they have often been unfaithful to the “general plan of administrative
reform,” based upon the compact made between Korea and Japan, by granting
to foreigners various important concessions in secret ways. With a view
of putting an end to any further recurrence of such complications, an
express Agreement was entered into, August, 1904, by which “it was
stipulated that, in case of granting concessions to foreigners, or of
making contracts with foreigners, the Imperial Governments should first
be informed and consulted with.” The memorandum then goes on to express
profound regret that “His Majesty and his Court” had attempted by these
concessions, “in defiance of this provision, a breach of faith.” Then
follows the demand upon the Minister for Foreign Affairs of Korea to take
the following steps:—
1. The Minister for Foreign Affairs, after stating to His
Majesty the above facts and reasons, shall announce in a most
public way under the Imperial order that the concessions above
mentioned are null and void, as they have failed to observe the
provisions of the Agreement between Korea and Japan.
2. It shall also be most publicly announced under the Imperial
order that, in any case of granting concessions to foreigners,
either the Korean Government or the Court shall first consult
with the Imperial Government.
This memorandum bears date of July 11, 1905. But this instance of the
most decisive steps taken by the Japanese Government to prevent its
own subjects from profiting by secret and corrupt alliance with Korean
officials, for the obtaining of concessions and contracts, is by no
means an isolated one. In truth, _the Japanese Protectorate is more
severe in dealing with such cases where Japanese are concerned, than
where other foreigners have the chief interests_. And repeatedly has the
Resident-General assured his own countrymen that they must expect no
favors in business schemes for exploiting Korea to their own advantage,
but to the injury of the Koreans themselves. Indeed, he has publicly
declared to all such Japanese: “_You have me for your enemy._”
More recently effective measures have been enacted and put into force
to make impossible the recurrence of the old-time ways of robbing Korea
by schemes for “promoting” her business enterprises and by secret ways
of obtaining concessions. Among such measures is the safeguarding of
the “Imperial black seal” (the Emperor’s private seal), which could
formerly be used to plunder the treasury without the knowledge or consent
of its legalized guardians, or even of the Emperor himself. Under the
new regulations, the black seal cannot be legally used except with the
knowledge and attestation of the Minister of the Household and his
Imperial Treasurer.
Among the other foreign relations into which Japan has entered, to
substitute for Korea, is the protection of Korean emigrants. Although
Korea needs, and can for a long time to come support, all its own
natural increase of native population, and several millions of foreign
immigrants besides, the complete lack of opportunity for “getting ahead”
in their native land caused a considerable exodus of her own population
some six or seven years ago. At the instance of an American, about 8,000
Korean men and 400 Korean women emigrated to Hawaii. In 1905 a Mexican
prevailed upon 1,300 natives to go to Mexico. This experience led the
Korean Government, in April, 1905, to issue an order prohibiting the
emigration of Korean laborers. Under the Japanese Protectorate, however,
in July, 1906, “An Emigrant Protection Law,” with detailed rules for its
operation, was enacted, which came into force on the 15th of September of
the same year.
With regard to all foreign relations with Korea, whether of legitimate
business, of commerce, or of emigration, the civilized world is
undoubtedly much better off now that their custody is in the hands of
the Japanese Residency-General. In our judgment the same thing is true
of those moral and religious interests represented by the missionary
bodies already established, or to be established in the future, in
the Korean peninsula. This is not, indeed, the opinion of all the
missionaries themselves. As regards the whole subject of the effect of
the Protectorate upon mission work—past, present, and future—there is
a difference of opinion among the missionaries themselves. As to the
attitude of Marquis Ito there can be no reasonable doubt. His expressions
of feeling and intention have been frequently mentioned in the earlier
chapters of this book. The missionary problem will be discussed, apart,
in a later chapter.
As to the general feeling of the Koreans themselves toward foreigners,
the following quotations are believed to express the truth:
Since the inauguration of foreign intercourse the anti-foreign
feeling of which the Tai Won Kun was so prominent an exponent,
appears to have died out. Possibly it may linger still in the
minds of some of the old-fashioned Confucian scholars, but not
to any appreciable extent. Formerly it was, no doubt, possible
to excite the people against foreigners for slight cause; but
exhibitions of anti-foreign sentiment in recent times appear to
have been officially instigated, as, for example, the massacre
of the French missionaries and their converts, for which the
Tai Won Kun is held responsible. More intimate intercourse with
the representatives of Western civilization, and especially
missionary labor which has been so genuinely successful, seem
to have eliminated anything like a general feeling of dislike
for foreigners.
The case of the Japanese stands by itself in this regard.
Much has been written of the ancient hatred of Koreans for
Japanese. Traces of that feeling may linger, but that it is an
ineradicable national trait, as some would seem to hold, hardly
seems possible. Koreans and Japanese have lived together in
complete amity and good fellowship in the past, and there is
no good reason why they should not live side by side on the
best of terms in the future. Certainly none in the sentiment
of dislike on one side, for the origin of which we must go
back nearly three centuries. The practical difficulty, the
dislike which really counts, is of more modern origin. Korea
and Japan have been jostled together, as it were, by two wars
in recent times, and the weaker of the two has suffered—a
circumstance to be regretted, no doubt, but still inevitable.
Korea has experienced some of the evils which follow in war’s
train; and while they were not nearly so disastrous as has been
represented, they have left a feeling of dislike and distrust
for those who are held responsible. This was to have been
expected and counted upon; for the remedy we must await the
wider and more intelligent comprehension of the real meaning
of the new order of things. When it is finally understood that
even-handed justice is the rule, that the life and property of
every man, no matter how humble, are safe under the law, and
that the presence of the alien does not mean licensed extortion
and oppression, we shall not hear anything more of that racial
hatred upon which so much stress has been laid.
CHAPTER XVI
WRONGS: REAL AND FANCIED
Among the many embarrassments encountered by Marquis Ito as Japanese
Resident-General in his efforts to reform and elevate Korea, there is
perhaps no one more persistent and hard to overcome than the charges of
fraud and violence made against his own countrymen. These charges come
from various sources and are promulgated in a variety of ways. Sometimes
they take the form of a book—as, for example, Mr. Hulbert’s “Passing
of Korea.” For months the _Korean Daily News_, under the editorship of
Mr. Bethell, in both its native and its English editions, filled its
daily columns with complaints, wearisomely reiterated after they had
been repeatedly disproved, or made anew on insufficient grounds and even
without any trustworthy evidence whatever. In scarcely less degree,
the same thing has been true of certain English papers printed outside
of Korea, especially in China. More effective still in producing an
impression abroad, but not more trustworthy, have been the published
letters of many travellers and newspaper correspondents. Conspicuous
among the latter class was the letter of Mr. William T. Ellis to the New
York _Tri-Weekly Tribune_, in which it was stated that, under the then
existing Japanese Government, “robbery, abuse, oppression, injustice,
and even murder are the lot of the Korean common people.”[81] Most
deplorable[82] of all are the hasty and inconsiderate charges believed
on exaggerated or wholly false accounts of the Koreans themselves,
and propagated by the relatively small body of missionaries who have
remained—for reasons to be considered subsequently—in an attitude of open
or secret hostility to the Japanese Protectorate.
The charges against the Japanese of violence and fraud in Korea may be
divided into four classes: those which are important and true; those
which are trivial and only partly true; those which are exaggerated; and
those which are wholly false. Of the first kind there are a few only;
of the second there are many; of the third there are even a greater
number; and of the fourth there are not a few. In judging the conduct of
the Japanese Government and its officials of all ranks and classes, as
distinguished from the conduct of adventurous and unscrupulous individual
Japanese, the material and social condition of affairs in the peninsula
during and immediately after the Russo-Japanese war cannot fairly be
left out of the account. One complaint brought by its most unsympathetic
critics against the Government is that it did not foresee the influx of
undesirable characters into Korea during the war and make sufficient
provision for their control. But precisely the opposite of this complaint
is true. The military and other coolies and camp-followers had given
much trouble and embarrassment to the Japanese officials in the war with
China. Accordingly, the military authorities determined at the beginning
of the war with Russia to avoid such complications by composing the
military train wholly of enlisted men. Thus many recruits—students,
professional men, and tradesmen—who did not come up to the standard set
for the soldier, or who were not ready for service in the ranks, served
as cart-pullers, burden-bearers, and in other laborious and humble ways.
The conduct of the army, and of the enlisted men generally, in Korea and
Manchuria, was so admirable as to call out the quite unexampled approval
of all candid observers. Looting was almost absolutely prevented; the
extremely rare cases of rape were punished with death as soon as the
offence was proved; violence or insult toward all non-combatants was of
rare occurrence; and the treatment of the Russian prisoners of war evoked
the gratitude of the prisoners themselves. In all these respects, the
difference between the Japanese and the Chinese and Russians was indeed
remarkable.
At the beginning of the war the Tokyo government, perceiving that
the civil authorities in Korea were already overburdened with labors
consequent upon the great influx of Japanese—many of them belonging
to the lower classes—proposed a bill to establish new courts and an
increased force of police. In the pressure of important business
connected with the life-or-death struggle in which Japan was then
engaged, the bill did not pass. A Police Adviser to the Korean Government
was, however, appointed. What must have been the complete incompetency
of the Korean magistrates and police at such a time of confusion may be
faintly imagined by one who—like the author—has seen how ineffectively
they still discharged their functions, for the protection of their own
officials and for the maintenance of order in the country, at the time
of his visit in the spring of 1907. It would have been strange, then,
if anything approaching an even-handed justice through the courts, or
a complete condition of order by fear of the police, could have been
secured in Korea in 1904 and 1905. No such justice or order has ever
existed in this land of misrule. Japan secured it during the occupation
of war, so far as its own enlisted men were concerned; but its rights as
“Protector” were not fully gained and defined until after the close of
the war.
Among the most serious of the charges which are important and, in
certain instances, true, is that made against the military authorities
for the appropriation of lands for military and railway uses, to an
unreasonable extent, and in unfair ways. “There can be no question,”
says Mr. D. W. Stevens, “that at the outset the military authorities in
Korea did intimate an intention of taking more land for these uses than
seemed reasonable. They proceeded upon the principle that the Korean
Government had bound itself to grant all land necessary for railway and
military uses, and itself to indemnify the owners—an assumption which
was technically correct. But the owners, knowing the custom of their
own government under such circumstances, were hopeless of obtaining
anything like adequate redress. This, it should be remembered, happened
during the war, when martial law was in the ascendant.” When peace
came, other counsels prevailed; the intention to appropriate additional
large tracts was abandoned; and the amount staked off for military
purposes was greatly reduced—was, indeed, in several instances, made
only a fraction of the original amount. For all the domain granted or
appropriated by the Korean Government there has already accrued to the
country, in transportation facilities and other economic and political
advantages, far more than its actual value at the time of its granting
or appropriation. For the private land owned by Koreans a fair price
was paid in the majority of cases. The prohibition of the owners within
the delimited areas to sell their lands and houses was designed to
prevent prior purchase by speculators and other indirect attempts to
obtain extravagant prices. The military authorities, under the pressure
of what they regarded as necessity, solved these difficulties in the
military way—a way that certainly does not commend itself to civilians
in times of peace, but which has been employed too often by all the other
civilized nations to enable them to cast stones freely at the Japanese.
Even by these high-handed measures they could not avoid, in certain
cases, paying much more for land owned by foreigners than it was really
worth.[83]
It must further be confessed that a considerable number of Japanese
sharpers—for the most part usurious money-lenders—have obtained land
from Koreans in unjust and oppressive ways. This species of robbery
is made the more difficult to detect and punish for the following
reasons: The Korean customs and laws concerning the transference of
titles to land are inadequate and confusing (for this reason, some of
the landed property belonging to other foreigners than the Japanese,
and even to the missionary bodies, would have no little difficulty in
establishing title); the Koreans are given to issuing false and forged
deeds, or in their ignorance claiming title and conferring title where
no such right exists; finally, in numerous instances, both Korean or
foreign “squatters” (see p. 295 _f._) and the government or some of its
officials are asserting, either honestly or fraudulently, their holding
of good title to the same piece of land. On all this class of offences
we may trust implicitly the statement of the foreign official (an
American) whose duty has led him to examine into a large number of these
cases: “The theft of land by eviction, false deeds, etc.,” says this
authority, “is another offence upon which great stress has been laid.
Undoubtedly there were a number of cases of this kind, although here
again exaggeration has been at work. The commonest instances were those
where money-lenders were concerned; and, in these cases, as in almost all
others of the kind, Koreans were associated in some way or other with
the frauds which were perpetrated. A spendthrift son or nephew would
give false title-deeds, or even pawn the genuine ones without authority;
a Korean rascal would conspire with a Japanese of the same kidney to
defraud other Koreans, and so on through the long gamut of fraud wherein
Korean connivance was an indispensable prerequisite to success. The
offences relating to land have now been rendered practically impossible
through the promulgation of land regulations by the Residency-General.”
In a word, offences of this kind committed by the Japanese against the
Koreans, however numerous and grievous they may have been, have proved
short-lived; they were formerly due to the disturbed conditions of a
period of war, and will now speedily be brought to an end. Summing them
all up, and even without making allowance for exaggerations, the cry of
the Koreans against the Japanese on the charge of fraud and oppression
touching their land is only as a drop to a good-sized bucket compared
with the cry of the Irish against the English, or of the Koreans
themselves against their own countrymen. The wrongs are small indeed as
compared with those which have characterized the behavior of Americans
against Americans in our own West.[84]
Of brutal and murderous assaults from Japanese upon Korean men and women
there are indeed instances; but the cases prove on examination to have
been by no means frequent. They have been, on the whole, fewer than such
crimes are accustomed to be between peoples of two nations similarly
placed. Indeed, they have been fewer than those occurring to-day between
different classes and different nationals in many of the civilized
countries of the Western World. They bear no comparison to the horrors
which have for centuries been familiar in most of the Orient, including
Korea itself. “Wholesale military executions,” for example, of the
Koreans who tore up the track of the military railroad have been charged
against the Japanese as virtually murders. But during the entire war
there was never a single instance of what is known as “drum-head court
martial” of a Korean for such an offence. After the trial the evidence in
each case was transmitted to the Headquarters at Seoul, where the case
was confirmed, modified, or reversed. The Japanese military authorities
consented to have a Korean official present at each trial as an _amicus
curiæ_ of the defendant; but the Korean Government declined to be
represented and claimed that all such cases should be tried before their
own officials only. What would have been the outcome of such a committal
of the most vital military interests of Japan to Korean magistrates it
needs no great amount of experience to judge. A Korean, for example, who
had been arrested by a Japanese _gendarme_ and taken before a native
magistrate was duly punished for “throwing a stone at the railway!”
But on his being rearrested and tried before a military court it was
established that the man had been repeatedly convicted of piling stones
upon the track with a view to wreck the trains conveying the Japanese
soldiers; whereupon the sentence of the military court was confirmed from
Headquarters and the man was quite properly executed.
Of the killing of Koreans, unprovoked and without the excuse of
self-defence, by Japanese, there have been at no time any considerable
number of cases. Indeed, the murders of men and women of the other
nationality, while in the quiet discharge of their official duty or in
their homes, have been far more numerous. This was especially true while
the country was stirred to riot and bloodshed by the abdication of the
Emperor in July, 1907, and by the disbandment of the Korean army, when
mistaken or feigned “patriotism” was showing itself in the customary
Korean way. But that there is nothing new about all this, a reference to
chapters which have sketched (IX and X) the history of the relations of
the countries in the past centuries will abundantly show.
Of serious and unprovoked assaults of Koreans by Japanese there have
been, doubtless, a considerable number. It would be impossible to
tell just how many, even as a result of the most patient and candid
investigation;—if for no other reason, because the Korean habit of
exaggeration and lying renders almost all the uncorroborated testimony of
the natives untrustworthy. This experience with official lying to cover
their own countrymen against the demands of foreigners for justice, or
to enforce indemnity in cases of false charges made against foreigners
for assault on Koreans, is not confined to the Japanese. It is the common
experience with all Korean judicial procedure.[85]
Among the more serious unproved charges against Japanese officials was
that of torturing Korean prisoners by Japanese gendarmes at the time
of the so-called “cleansing” of the Palace. Mr. Hulbert published this
charge and specified, on the authority of “numerous witnesses,” the exact
character of the torture—namely, by a kind of iron instrument designed
to squeeze the head. Immediately Marquis Ito took up the matter and sent
a messenger to Mr. Hulbert to express his earnest desire to probe the
matter thoroughly; and his intention, in case the charge was proved,
to punish the offenders severely. This request implied, as a matter
of course, the pledge of protection to the witnesses; and Mr. Hulbert
agreed to furnish the evidence. But when this could not be done, the
excuse was first offered that the witnesses were afraid to come forward;
and next, the “numerous witnesses” resolved themselves into one person,
who had “gone into the country.” When still further pressed to furnish
the promised evidence, the story of the iron head-rack was altogether
abandoned, and for it was substituted the charge that a certain eunuch
had been arrested and beaten by the police. But this, if it occurred,
is only according to the Korean custom of judicial procedure, still to
be allowed, after the torture of criminals had been legally abolished
under Japanese influence. Nevertheless, this confessedly false charge
was afterward included in a pamphlet by the same authority as another
instance of Japanese outrages in Korea.[86]
Of rudeness and petty assaults the Koreans have, no doubt, had much to
endure at the hands of the coolies and other low-class Japanese. But not
_so_ much as the Burmese and East Indians have had to endure from the
British soldier and petty official in their own home land; or the Chinese
and Japanese on the Pacific Coast of the United States; and, probably,
not more than the Japanese themselves during the earlier days of the
entrance of foreigners into Japan. While the atrocious treatment of the
natives by the Belgians in Africa, by the French in Madagascar, by the
Russians in many parts of Asia, is as midnight darkness to twilight or
full dawn when compared with anything done to Koreans of late years by
the Japanese.
In order to understand, but not to excuse, this harsh and bullying
attitude of the foreigner toward the native, two things need to be borne
in mind. The first is this: _Korea has never been a land where the common
people have been treated with any decency, not to say respect_. In the
old days—the days to change which the Japanese Government is planning
and doing more than any other human agency—the attendants of officials
beat every commoner who came within their reach; this was as a matter
of course; it was an evidence, not much resented by the people, of the
superiority of their master. Lieutenant Foulk describes how, when he
was travelling in the country, his chair coolies on approaching an inn
would accelerate their pace and, rushing into the yard at the top of
their speed, would begin to belabor every one in sight. “In 1885,” says
Mr. Stevens, “I was riding through the streets of Seoul on official
business. Among my attendants were several policemen armed with the
many-thonged whips carried in those days. The policemen slashed with
these at the curious who pressed around the chair, regardless of where
the blows fell. One old woman, lashed in the face until the blood came,
still pressed forward when the policeman had passed, eager to see the
foreigner close at hand, and apparently regarding the blows as a matter
of course.” To-day such cruelty is in no respect rare among the “amiable
Koreans.” Indeed, without something of this kind, it is difficult in the
country for the traveller, whether native or foreigner, to get anything
done. “During the first two days,” says Mr. Henry Norman,[87] “I was
greatly annoyed by my _mapous_, whom I could not get along at all. At
the midday halt they would lie about for a couple of hours, and in the
morning it was two or three hours after I was up before I could get them
to start. On the third morning I lost my temper, and going into their
room, I kicked them one after the other into the yard. This was evidently
what they expected, for they set to work immediately. Unless they were
kicked they could not believe the hurry was real. Afterward, by a similar
procedure, I started whenever I wished.” Again, Mr. Angus Hamilton, after
bringing a railing accusation against the Japanese for their bullying
methods with the Koreans, recommends that the Korean interpreter “be
flogged” if he suggests the employment of too many servants, asserts that
“an occasional kick” is helpful to convert the Korean into a “willing if
unintelligent servant,” and closes his book with the frank narrative of
his falling into a blind rage and taking vengeance right and left because
of his disappointment over the defeat of a scheme for an exploring and
sporting trip to the northern part of the peninsula.[88]
The second consideration to which reference was made brings out the more
humorous side of the picture. In Korea it makes a great difference,
not only whose ox is gored, but who gores the ox. Small favors of the
kind which are received uncomplainingly—almost gratefully—from their
own officials, and even from other friends, are by no means just now
received in the same way from the Japanese. Of this fact Dr. Gale gives
an admirable description: it is that of a Korean lounging along in the
middle of the road and smoking the pipe of contemplative abstraction—a
habit indulged in by almost all Koreans in the most inconvenient places.
A Japanese jinrikisha-man pushes him rudely to one side, and not being
at all firm upon his legs, he goes sprawling on the ground (comp. p.
172 _f._). Eyes raised to heaven, he calls upon the skies to fall; for
the end of all things has come. “But,” says the passing stranger, “a
missionary pushed you out of the way yesterday; another foreigner beat
you the day before; your own people have always kicked and cuffed you.”
“Yes, yes, but a _Japanese_! Only think of it—a _Japanese_!”
Among the partially true, but greatly exaggerated, charges of petty
oppression and injustice must be classed the claim that the labor on the
Japanese military railway was enforced by personal cruelties and paid for
at unfair prices. Again, it must be remembered that the prompt conclusion
of this work was a military necessity of the first importance. In the
rush and confusion which accompanied its execution, it would have been
strange if there had not been cases of harsh treatment of laborers by the
Japanese sub-contractors. Where an appeal, accompanied by trustworthy
evidence, was taken to the higher authorities, it was possible to obtain
redress in almost every instance. But there was another class of cases
where it was almost impossible to secure anything like decent reparation;
these were chiefly under the management of the Koreans themselves.
Concerning such cases, the statement of an authority, made on grounds of
personal knowledge, is quoted below:
Complaints came from various sources, all of the same tenor.
Laborers living long distances from the railway were compelled
to come to work at wages which hardly paid for their food. Yet
at this time the authorities were paying wages much higher than
any that could be earned by these men in other occupations. As
the laborers could not appeal, or did not appeal, directly to
the military authorities, but usually waited until their return
home to repeat the story of their wrongs, it was difficult to
ascertain the truth. Whenever an investigation was possible,
however, it was usually discovered that the ill-treatment was
due to a combination between interpreters, sub-contractors,
and local officials. The sub-contractors had to have men,
and, either through interpreters or directly, would make
contracts with the local officials to supply a certain number
of laborers. These were almost invariably secured one or two
day’s journey from the railway line; as it would not do to
attract too much attention by interfering with the people
living near the railway. The laborers would be compelled to
work for about one-fourth of the wages really paid, and the
balance would be divided between the interpreters and local
officials. In certain cases the people were allowed exemption
from this drafting system upon the payment of ransom, estimated
upon the basis of the number of men which they had been asked
to supply. Only recently an officer, who during the war had
charge of the construction of an important section of the
Seoul-Wiju line, related a case of this kind. He was paying
one dollar and thirty cents, Korean money, as a day’s wages;
the men were well treated, and food was cheap and abundant.
Still there was constant trouble on account of insufficient
supply of labor, the reason for which the closest investigation
failed to reveal. But only a few months ago (more than two
years, that is, after the experience) the officer met a man
who explained the reason. It seemed that the Korean Governor
of the province had an arrangement with the interpreters which
was mutually profitable even when laborers were not actually
procured for the work. The operations were carried on over a
large extent of territory distant, as was customary, several
day’s journey from the railway. As many laborers as could be
induced, or forced, to come, were paid thirty-five cents a
day—the conspirators pocketing the balance. In the majority of
cases where the people preferred to purchase exemption, these
precious rascals collected considerable sums. And, of course,
the military authorities got all the blame, as all this was
done in their name. Sometimes the sub-contractors assisted by
sending out parties, Korean and Japanese, armed with swords
and pistols, for the purpose of intimidating the unwilling or
the recalcitrant. On several occasions condign punishment was
inflicted for offences of this kind, but as actual violence
was very rarely committed and the intimidation was carried
on quietly, where it could not easily be discovered, it was
difficult to secure convincing proof against the culprits.
Fair-minded persons, familiar with the facts, know that the
military authorities did all that could have reasonably been
asked to put a stop to such practices; but, occurring during
a time of war, many of these irregularities were of a nature
which it was difficult wholly to prevent. That officers in
the field and at headquarters were always ready to listen
to complaints and, so far as lay in their power, to rectify
wrongs, is an indisputable fact.
The reputation of the Japanese—army, civil government, and the people
generally—has suffered more from the long-standing and the more recent
relations between Japan and Korea than is customary elsewhere under
similar circumstances. This is due partly to inexperience and over
self-confidence on their own part; but also in larger measure to the
untrustworthy and corrupt witness of the Korean officials and to the
ignorance and credulity of the Korean people; most of all, however, to
the prejudiced or malignant, untrue reports of certain foreigners. During
the occupation and transit of the Japanese army in the late war, the
charges of cruelty and injustice on its part were not confined to the
construction and service of the military railway. While the commissary
department was paying to the Korean contractors the full market price for
provisions and other supplies, the contractors were compelling the Korean
people to furnish the supplies, either without pay or at greatly reduced
rates. From time immemorial, the people of Korea have been accustomed to
have their rice, chickens, ponies, and service, levied upon by their own
officials; in the present case they, as a matter of course, attributed
the same manner of getting what you want by taking what you see, to the
Japanese.[89]
Ignorance of the Korean language and customs is another fruitful source
of bad repute for the Japanese. Even now, in the city of Seoul, the
Japanese who blunders into the women’s quarters, or even into their too
near vicinity, in the discharge of his duty to collect a bill, to make
an inspection or a report of some official character, or to inquire his
way, is liable to be charged with an intent to commit rape or some other
form of assault. The Japanese collector of taxes, or customs, or the
Japanese policeman who protects the obnoxious Korean official, or even
the “unpatriotic” Cabinet Minister, is a particular object of Korean
falsehood and hatred. But all these complaints, although they have been
made much of by the anti-Japanese “friends” of Korea, and in spite of
the undoubted fact that they greatly increase the feeling of bitterness
between the two peoples and interfere with the benevolent plans of the
Resident-General, are in themselves comparatively trivial.
Wholly false charges of oppression and fraud of a much more important
character have been made against the Japanese Government in Korea, either
in ignorance or with malignity, and have industriously been spread
abroad by the subsidized or the deceived “foreign friends” of the Korean
Court. One of the most notable of such charges concerned the so-called
“fisheries company.” Its history is briefly this. Certain Koreans came
to a “missionary friend” complaining that the Resident-General had
peremptorily dissolved a Korean company which had a legal concession
to develop the fisheries industry, thus involving the shareholders in
heavy losses. The presumption was that the unjust act was intended to
further in the future the Japanese interest in this same industry. But
the truth was that the Minister of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry
had in the Fall of 1906, at the solicitation of a “Korean, notorious
for previous participation in malodorous schemes,” secretly granted to
a _native company a monopoly of all the fishing rights upon the entire
Korean coasts, except the whale fisheries_. In addition to this, this
same company was given the exclusive right of control over all the fish
markets in the Empire, so that no fish could be sold except at places
designated by it and upon payment to it of such sums as it might choose
to exact. When, however, sufficient funds were not speedily available
from Korean subscribers to float this monstrous and totally illegal
monopoly, a Japanese visiting capitalist was approached by the Korean
promoter and asked to buy a half-share of the enterprise. His mention of
the investment offered to him gave to the Residency-General its first
knowledge of the scheme. The Minister of Agriculture, Commerce and
Industry was immediately informed that such a concession was in plain
violation of treaty rights and highly prejudicial to Korean private and
public interests. The Minister was also warned that the concession should
be cancelled; he promised to do this, and it was supposed that he had
kept his word. But either through cowardice or connivance at corruption,
the promise was not fulfilled. Months later, therefore, the Chief of the
Commercial Department of the Residency-General, Mr. Kiuchi, while making
a tour of inspection in Southeastern Korea, received a petition from
the fishermen of the district, complaining that this same company was
levying taxes upon them and forbidding those who did not pay the taxes
to continue their fishing. The complete dissolution of this illegal
monopoly was saved from being the object of popular resentment only by
the fact that its promoters had been ready to share their plunder with a
Japanese![90]
Another instance which illustrates, however, the habitual exaggeration
and ignorant credulity of the Koreans rather than their well-known
official capacity for fraud, is connected with the establishment of
the royal “stud-farm” near Pyeng-yang. In this case two native pastors
from this city, as members of a deputation to petition the redress of
a great wrong, came to a missionary friend in Seoul in great distress.
Their story was that the Korean officials of the Household Department,
in complicity with the Japanese officials, had enclosed in stakes a
territory having a population of fifty thousand people and comprising
a vast quantity of arable land. Within this large area, no one could
sell the land, or cut timber or grass, or plant crops, or bury the dead;
or, in brief, put the land to any of its ordinary uses. These official
prohibitions were said to have been inscribed upon the stakes—although
the petitioners, on being questioned, could not tell upon just how
many of them. At Seoul, neither the Korean nor the Japanese officials
knew of any such project in connection with the proposed stud-farm;
although it was true that such a farm was to be established, under the
joint patronage of their Majesties, the Emperors of Japan and Korea.
Communication with Marquis Ito, who was then in Tokyo, brought a
reassuring telegram from him. Investigation showed that no notice of the
kind had been put upon any of the stakes which had been erected to show
that all the government lands within the area delimited were reserved
for the uses of the farm. Nor did the placing of the stakes put any
restrictions whatever upon the people, so far as concerned their own
property. The one stake on which the mysterious notice did appear had
been driven some time previous to the very existence of the scheme for a
royal farm; and it had reference to a totally different piece of Imperial
property which it had been designed to guard against encroachments from
both Koreans and Japanese dwelling in Pyeng-yang. All this excitement
could have been avoided if the Korean officials had done their duty by
way of informing and instructing the people. But the simple truth is that
many of them and of the “foreign friends” of Korea do not wish to avoid
any popular excitement which will contribute to the embarrassment and
discredit of the Japanese Government in Korea. The rather do they welcome
all such excitement.
The truth of this last remark is amply illustrated by the treatment
given to the “Pagoda Incident”—one of the “flagrant wrongs” done to
Korea by the Japanese which was on the carpet during our entire stay
of two months in the land. Viscount Tanaka, who is described as “an
ardent virtuoso and collector,” while visiting in Seoul was approached
by a Japanese curio dealer with the suggestion that he might add to his
collection the ancient but neglected pagoda then situated near Song-do.
Mention of the matter was made to the Korean Ministers of the Interior
and of the Household, and their approval obtained; and through them the
sanction of the Emperor was gained for its removal, as a present to his
distinguished guest. The actual work of the removal was committed to the
dealer who made the unfortunate suggestion, and who executed his job
“with his characteristic skill and audacity.” Previous to its removal
this relic of former grandeur had for a long time been wholly neglected
by the Korean Government and was, in fact, in process of destruction by
the Korean people, who were in the habit of removing bits from it to
use as medicine. At once, however, a storm of indignant protest broke
out; not, indeed, among the Koreans left to themselves so much as on
the part of the “foreign friends” of Korea in their English papers and
foreign correspondence. The Viscount was called by terms applicable to a
common thief; the “robbery of the Pagoda,” the “rape of the Pagoda,” the
plunder of this “precious religious relic” of Korea’s former grandeur,
was deplored and abjurgated in the most extravagant terms. The Emperor
doubtless chuckled; for while he cared little for the Pagoda, he cared
much for the discredit which the taking away of it brought upon the
Japanese. The unwise act was virtually disowned by the Residency-General
(Marquis Ito was absent in Japan at the time of its removal), and was
severely criticised by the Japanese themselves; with the departure of Mr.
Hulbert for Russia the excitement over this act of oppression gave way to
more important political affairs.
[Illustration: The Stone-Turtle Monument.]
Most ludicrous and pathetic—but highly characteristic—of all these
popular excitements was, perhaps, that which arose through the mere
proposal of a subject of debate by a Japanese student in Waseda
University, Japan: Whether the Korean Emperor should not be made a noble
of Japan? (Thus implying, of course, his descent from his Imperial
dignity and the virtual annexation of Korea.) The proposal was indeed
never adopted, and the debate never took place. But the intolerable
insult to the Korean students at the same university, and to the whole
nation of Korea—although the authorities of Waseda at once rebuked the
unfortunate student—was dwelt upon, and exaggerated, and rubbed into the
inflamed and sensitive skins of the people, with all the vigor which the
Korean patriots and their “foreign friends” could command. And when some
obscure but self-conceited Japanese official, in Japan and not at all in
Korea, published a brochure giving fully two-score and more reasons why
Japan should promptly annex Korea, these same patriots and their friends
made all the use in their power of this insignificant document to stir
up sedition and murderous revolt. It was the issue of it as a forgery
bearing the official authorization of the Japanese Government, which
caused the excitement in Pyeng-yang—the story of which has already been
told (see p. 104 _f._).[91]
It is not necessary, however, to multiply instances under any of these
heads. All classes of wrongs done the Koreans by the Japanese—important
and trivial, real, exaggerated, or falsely claimed—are fast diminishing
and are destined in time to be reduced to a minimum. The Korean Central
Government is now more genuine, more intelligent, and more efficient—as
distinguished from the mere wilfulness of the ex-Emperor—than it has
ever been before. The reforms possible under the Convention of July,
1907, will afford a judiciary system and judicial procedure hitherto
impossible as respects the administration of justice. The control of the
local magistrate and of the policing of city and country will contribute
something quite new in the way of the blessings of peace and prosperity
to the common people. The reforms in the public finance and in taxation
will stimulate trade and commerce; the industrial and common-school
education will bring about an economic redemption. And if the teachers of
morals and religion, both native and foreign, behave with a reasonable
wisdom and self-control in the future, and with the same devotion and
enthusiasm which they have displayed in the recent years, wrongs will be
righted; justice will be done; enlightenment will be spread abroad; and
the Korea of the near future will be a quite different nation from the
Korea of the long-continued, disgraceful, and distressful past.
CHAPTER XVII
MISSIONS AND MISSIONARIES
Among the many vexatious problems occasioned in modern times by the
increased intercourse of Western nations with the Orient, those which
arise in connection with the advent and development of Christian
missions are of no small importance. In general, in this quarter of the
world the diplomats and business men are upon one side of most of the
controverted questions; the missionaries and their supporters upon the
other. It is inevitable, and not necessarily discreditable to either
party, that differences of opinion should exist between these two classes
as to the best practical answer to some of these questions. Those few
of the former class, who are sincerely and unselfishly interested in
moral and spiritual things, and in the higher welfare of the world, and
the scarcely greater number of the latter class who have the spirit of
knightly gentlemen, a thorough culture, and are also of a wise and broad
mind, can usually approach very closely to a sympathetic understanding
of each other, if not toward active co-operation. If, however, the
diplomat or business man, as is so frequently the case, does not like to
see the cause of religion advancing, because of the sure instinct that
its success will limit, or stop, many a nefarious or morally doubtful
practice, then, of course, the support of all who care for the higher
values must be given to the side of the missionaries. On the other
hand, if the narrow prejudice, fanaticism, or intellectual and ethical
weakness of the teacher of foreign religion are seriously interfering
with the legitimate practices of diplomacy or commerce, our sympathies
can scarcely fail to turn in the other direction. Especially is this true
where such interference tends to produce disturbance of the public order
and to check genuine political and economic reform. Yet in the one case,
we cannot forget the injunction of the Founder of Christianity to his
disciples: “Be ye wise as serpents and harmless as doves”; or the rebuke
implied in the declaration: “The children of this world are wiser in
their generation than the children of light.” In the other case, we have
ringing in our ears the declaration which so many centuries of history
have confirmed: “Think not that I came to send peace on the earth; I came
not to send peace but a sword.”
In most cases of prolonged controversy over the conduct of the missionary
and the character of his work, there is more or less of misunderstanding
and of faulty behavior on both sides. For missionaries are but men; and
like men of all other trades, businesses, professions, or callings, they
have their peculiar temptations, their liability to peculiar mistakes,
and—to use the theological term—their besetting sins. The past and
present relations of Christian missions to the Government and people of
Korea will be the better understood if we consider briefly what some
of these temptations are. One of the most potent, if not important, is
the temptation to make a good showing in the matter of statistics. That
the workman on the field should rejoice in a bountiful harvest is not,
in itself, a matter for surprise or rebuke; just the contrary is true.
Nor is it necessarily prejudicial to the real good of the cause, if the
home officers and supporters of the foreign denominational enterprise
implicitly seem to require, as a prerequisite to their continued zeal and
generous subscriptions, a fair annual showing as to the increase in the
number of converts. But especially in Korea at the present time, it is
_quality and not numbers_ that ought chiefly to be allowed to count. And
yet it is numbers and not quality which is most reasonably to be expected
and most likely to be found, for two or three generations to come.
The paradox involved in the last sentences requires further explanation.
In her interesting but highly colored and by no means altogether
trustworthy book on Korea, Mrs. Bishop makes the following declarations:
“The idea of a nation destitute of a religion and gladly accepting one
brought by a foreigner, must be dropped. The religion the Korean would
accept is one which would show him how to get money without working for
it. The indifference is extreme; the religious faculty is absent; there
are no religious ideas to appeal to, and the moral teachings of Confucius
have little influence with any class.”[92] Of these declarations the last
is the only one which is wholly true. _Moral_ teachings of any kind have
had little effect hitherto in Korea. Briefly stated, and as seen from the
point of view afforded through a survey of the history of man’s religious
experience and of the progress of Christian missionary enterprise, the
condition of the Korean people is this. They are a nation by no means
indifferent to religion, or destitute of religious faculty and religious
ideas. But the religion almost universally prevalent has been for
centuries a low form of spiritism—largely, devil-worship. Even Korean
ancestor-worship, unlike that in Japan, is still almost exclusively
motived and characterized by superstitious and degrading fears rather
than by the spirit of reverence, loyalty, and affection. Among the
so-called civilized nations of the world there is probably not another
where the prevalent native religion is of a more depressing and degrading
character than in Korea.
Now it is an experience very easy to explain from the psychological
point of view that where the other elements of “uplift” begin to work
powerfully among a people of a low form of religion, any imported
religious faith and worship which seems to offer help to, or to be in
conformity with, this work, may speedily secure the adherence of great
multitudes of the people. In Korea, for example, there is absolutely no
religion to compete with an imported Christianity. There is no developed
Confucianism as there is in China; no reformed or reflectively elaborated
Buddhism, as there is in Japan; no refined religious philosophy and
complicated caste system as there is in India. Any kind of ferment in
the ancient but deplorably sad and oppressive conditions of the popular
life will inevitably, therefore, prove favorable to the rapid spread of
a modern and improved form of religion. For the people must have some
religion; and in Korea, what is there to rival, for what it promises
and performs, the religion of the American and English missionaries?
It is this kind of nation which, so far as statistics that can boast
millions of converts are concerned, may under favorable conditions be
“born in a day.” At the same time, however, it is this kind of nation
whose multitude of converts will almost surely fail to apprehend or to
appreciate the really important things about the new faith which they
hasten to profess. It is this kind of nation that most needs, through
three or more generations, the solid work of education, and the purifying
process of severe discipline, in order to secure the genuine spirit
and true practice of the religion of Christ. Education and prolonged
moral discipline are imperative for the establishment of a trustworthy
Christian population in Korea. Here the necessity for careful sifting
and severe pruning is exaggerated beyond most precedents, because of
the undoubted fact that the underlying motives for a first adherence
to Christianity are, in a large percentage of the so-called converts,
economic and political rather than moral and spiritual. And, indeed, how
can the Korean common people, with their low intellectual, material,
and moral ideals, rise _en masse_ from the condition of superstitious
and immoral devil-worshippers to the faith and practice of a pure
Christianity? The most fundamental conceptions of God, of Christian
duty and Christian character, of the spiritual life, and of the Divine
relations to man, are as yet almost totally lacking. If the number of
recent converts in Korea furnishes just cause for hope and rejoicing, the
character of these converts and of their environment gives also cause for
foreboding.
Closely connected with this temptation is another which is less obvious
and therefore more subtle and dangerous. It is the temptation to a
wrong which has done more by far than all the heresies to disgrace and
damage the Christian Church during the centuries of its history. This is
the temptation, even unconsciously, to make use for one’s self, or for
one’s converts, of the “double ethical standard.” Neither in Korea nor
elsewhere can the missionary permit himself to be betrayed into words and
conduct which he would consider unworthy of a “heathen” gentleman; or
allow his disciples, without rebuke and discipline, in the practice of
the very vices for which he despises the Japanese or Chinese coolie or
tradesman. There are no two standards of morality—one for the American
or English teacher of religion and another for the Korean or Japanese
official; one for the priest and another for the layman; one for the
Korean confessor and another for the foreign oppressor. It is true that
for a long time to come great discretion and much leniency must be
shown toward the Korean convert who continues in the beliefs, or who
relapses into the practices, of the low-grade spiritism out of which
he emerged when he became a Christian adherent. It is not impossible,
however, that there has been up to the present time too much of praise
and too little of rebuke and instruction meted out to the “adherents”
of Christianity in Korea. Indulgence in the vices of lying, dishonesty,
intrigue, avarice, impurity, and race-hatred, cannot be condoned by
a display of amiability. Flagrant cases of sexual misdemeanors have,
indeed, in comparatively few cases been made subjects for the severer
discipline. But the prophetic voice, raised unmistakably in evidence of
the high standard of morality characteristic of “the religion of Christ”
is required under all such circumstances as those which prevail among the
Korean Christians—thousands of whom, during the religious awakening of
the winter of 1906 and 1907, confessed to having lived for years in the
habitual practice of the vices enumerated above.
All of this, and even more of similar experiences connected with the
planting and growth of Christian missions in Korean soil, is by no
means necessarily discreditable to the missionaries themselves. On the
contrary, much of it is inevitable; it is the same thing which has been
the accompaniment of the early stages of Christian propagandism in all
ages, when conducted in the midst of similar conditions. So-called
“conversions” may be rapid; the process of selection and the labor of
instruction and edifying follow more slowly, in due time. The lower the
existing religious condition of the multitude, when the higher form of
religion appeals to them, the more prompt and extensive is the religious
uplift of this multitude; but the larger the number of the converts,
the more need of discretion and diligence for the process of improving
their quality. It is a reasonable hope that the same workmen who have
in the main proved so successful in the one form of Christian work will
prove equally successful in the somewhat different work which the future
development of Christian institutions in Korea imposes upon them.
There is another form of temptation against which it is much easier for
the religious propagandist to guard, but which has been rather unusually
strong and pervasive in the recent history of Korean missions. This
is the temptation to under-estimate, or even despise, the auxiliaries
which are offered by an improved condition of the material, legal, and
educational facilities to the more definitively religious uplift of the
people. The missionary can contribute the share of religion to progress
and reform; and he can make that a large share. But it is safe and wise
for him not to under-estimate or despise the support of the civil arm.
Korea is to-day, as has been already shown in detail, a land unblessed by
any of the institutions of a prosperous and equitable civil government
of the modern Christian type, established and fostered by its own ruling
classes. The multitude of its people are even more than its rulers
incapable of taking the initiative in founding such institutions. The
dawning of the very idea of good government has scarcely as yet risen
upon them.
Early Christianity was propagated in the Roman world largely by making
available for its uses the means furnished by the Roman Empire. And the
early Christians were expressly enjoined to welcome all the support
offered from, and to offer their support to, whatever was good and
helpful in the existing civil government. It is then a conceit which
is unwarranted by the history of the Christian church that makes the
missionary think, by “preaching the Gospel” to effect all which is
necessary toward reforming a nation in the condition of Korea at the
present time. Moreover, the claim that it was Christianity—especially in
the form of a so-called preaching of the Gospel—which, unaided by other
historical and moral forces, gave to the Western world its “democratic”
advantages, is no longer tenable. The experience with Coptic Christianity
in Egypt, with Armenian Christianity in Western Asia, with the Greek
Church in Holy Russia, and with Roman Catholicism in Spain and South
America (not to mention other notable examples) contradicts this claim.
In Korea itself it is not the Christian Missionary who is building
railways, making harbors, planting lighthouses, devising a legal code,
introducing a sound currency, and attempting the task of reforming the
finances, the judiciary, the police, and the local magistracy. Even
granted that he is setting at work moral and spiritual forces which will
ultimately bring to pass all these public benefits, it would take five
hundred years for Korea without foreign assistance from other forms of
civilizing energy, to secure these benefits. It is with no intention to
depreciate the work of missions in Korea that attention is called to
this obvious fact; its workmen had very unusual opportunities to assist
in improving the moral character of the Emperor, the late Queen, the
Court, and the other officials; and yet they signally failed in this
regard. Nor could they, unaided by the civil arm of foreign powers,
accomplish much toward relieving the miserable and oppressed and immoral
conditions of living prevalent among the common people of Korea. Just
here, however—that is, in the sphere of moral and spiritual influence
upon personal character, whether of prince or peasant—is where the
influence of religion ought to show itself supreme. The “purification” of
Korea required, and still requires, the firm, strong hand of the civil
power. We cannot, then, credit any such sentiment as that expressed
in the following statement:[93] “The influence of Christianity, so
largely and rapidly increasing in the country, holds out a better
prospect of spontaneous reform than the outside, violent interference
of a money-grabbing and hated heathen enemy.” In answer to every such
expression of sentiment, the protestation of the Resident-General has
been perfectly clear; and as fast and as far as his influence could make
itself felt, the conduct of affairs has confirmed the protestation:
“It is Japan’s honest and sincere purpose to make of the Koreans a
self-reliant and respectable people. Let there be an end, then, to the
malign and mischief-making efforts to alienate the Koreans from those who
to-day are through the sure work of History charged with responsibility
for this nation.”[94]
It would seem, then, that prompt, open, and hearty co-operation with all
the efforts, of every kind, made by the Japanese Protectorate to lift up
the Korean people is the only truly wise and Christian policy on the part
of the missions in Korea.[95]
How far the Korean missionaries have yielded to these and other
temptations and have behaved unwisely toward the Japanese Government
and before their Korean converts, it is not our purpose to discuss in
detail. And yet we cannot avoid all reference to this delicate and
unwelcome theme. Wholesale charges of political intrigue and other
unbecoming conduct directed against the Residency-General have been met
by emphatic and equally wholesale denials—especially during the troubled
times of 1906 and 1907. The charges, on the one hand, have been made not
simply by an irresponsible Japanese press, but by several of the more
reputable and generally trustworthy of its papers. On the other hand, all
similar charges are met by Bishop M. C. Harris[96] with the assurance
“because of full knowledge of the situation in Korea covering the space
of three years,” “that no American missionary has been identified with
political movements,” ... but that “in all the far-reaching plans of the
Residency-General to promote the welfare of Korea and Japan as well,
the missionaries are in hearty accord.” Yet again, on the other side,
repeated representations of a quite opposite character to that of Bishop
Harris have frequently appeared, both in letters and papers, in the
United States and in England.
The exact truth is with neither of these contentions; to appreciate it
one must bear in mind the difficult situation in which the missionaries
in Korea have been placed. All the wrongs (as their story has been told
in the last chapter), real or fancied, important and trivial but true,
or important and trivial but falsely alleged, have been appealed to them
by their Korean converts and also by Korean adventurers, with claims for
sympathy and for assistance. What was said of the Cretans in old times
may be said of the Koreans to-day: they are liars quite generally. Even
when they do not intend deliberately to deceive, they find it impossible
to refrain from gross exaggeration. On the other hand, the missionaries,
where their sympathies are wrought upon by their own children in the
faith—all the more on account of the mental and moral weakness of those
children—are apt to be over-credulous, and are not always sane in
judgment or prudent in conduct. These virtues are perhaps too much to
expect; perhaps they are not even the appropriate virtues for a Christian
woman when one of her own sex exposes bruises which she alleges to have
been inflicted by the hands of a “heathen coolie.” At such moments it is
not easy to remember the deeds of her own countrywomen in the South, or
of her own countrymen in San Francisco, in the Philippines, or in South
Africa.
Furthermore, it cannot be truthfully claimed that none of the
missionaries have ever meddled in politics with a view to injure the
Japanese Government in Korea. It was, in fact, an American missionary
who, after one of his colleagues upon the mission field, while expressing
his sympathy with the Korean Emperor, had refused to send a secret
telegram asking for interference from the President of the United
States, did send such a telegram; and when sternly rebuked by the
diplomatic representative of his own nation for conduct so unbecoming
to his profession, he replied with an assertion of the right to do as
he pleased in all such matters. Others have, from time to time, allowed
themselves to be used by the more wily Korean, whether un-Christian
official or Christian convert, so as to involve themselves in implied
complicity with political intrigues. If it is a mistake—or even worse
than a mistake—to circulate reports of evil without examination into
their accuracy, and to allow in all one’s attitude toward the powers
that be, unverified suspicions and secret hostilities to dominate, then
a considerable number of the missionary body in Korea must plead guilty
in the past to this mistake. But most of all has this body suffered from
its failure to disavow and practically to dissolve all connection with
those other “foreign friends” of Korea who have during the past few years
brought upon her Emperor and her people much more of misery and of harm
than has been wrought by all the irresponsible and disreputable Japanese
adventurers taken together.
A marked improvement, however, in the relations between the missionaries
and the Japanese Government in Korea has characterized the treatment of
the more recent events. For, although there was inevitably a certain
intensifying of hostile feeling by the uprising and bloodshed that
followed the Convention of July, 1907, the active co-operation of the
most influential majority of the missionaries in the plans of the
Residency-General for the future welfare of the Korean people seemed to
have been by this time assured. During the recent troublous times—in
spite of charges to the contrary—they appear to have remained, almost
without exception, faithful to their true calling and reasonably
effective in limiting or preventing the yet sorer evils that might have
followed the abdication of the Emperor, the disbandment of the Korean
army, and the tightening of Japan’s grip upon Korean internal affairs.
With certain, not very numerous, exceptions—and those mostly among the
spurious Christians who used the title only as a cover of selfish or
foolish political aims—the converts also acquitted themselves well. The
Korean Christians and their foreign leaders were favored by the Japanese
Government with special protection when the mad and cruel Korean mob rose
up, in veritable ancient fashion, to plunder and to murder atrociously,
in spots favorable to such activity throughout the land. Thus in the
emergency which, thanks to the wisdom of both kinds of reforming and
restraining forces, was after all far less great than might have been
expected, Korea made at comparatively small expense a great step forward
toward the position of a truly civilized and prosperous nation. And if
these same two forces—the economical and judicial, backed by the police
and the military, and the moral and spiritual force on which Christianity
relies—continue to work in accord, as we may hope they will, the full
redemption of Korea in the nearer future is assured.
Of the administrative mistakes which have hindered the progress of
modern missions elsewhere there appear to have been comparatively few
in Korea. Among such mistakes, perhaps the following two are most
important: first, the failure to occupy strongly certain strategic
centres with missionary institutions, and to postpone the occupation of
other less important places for the work of the trained native helper,
Bible-reader, evangelist, or pastor; and, second, the rivalries and
waste of denominational jealousy and exclusiveness. In Korea, the two
cities of Seoul and Pyeng-yang have wisely been selected as centres
in which to build up a “plant” of Christian institutions of various
kinds—churches, schools, hospitals, and seminaries for the training of
native assistants. Further, the two largest missionary bodies—namely, the
American Methodists and American Presbyterians, have worked together with
admirable respect for each other’s rights and in sincere co-operation.
There is one other matter of policy touching the administration of
missions which, in this connection, it is fitting to mention, but about
which anyone with the views of the writer might well hesitate to express
publicly an opinion. It is true, however, in the judgment of many of the
wisest friends of missions, that in the Far East the sphere of woman in
missionary work should be more carefully guarded and even restricted.
It is impossible to make the inhabitants of the Orient, in general,
understand the propriety of foreign women being on terms of intimacy,
even as religious teachers, with native young men. On the other hand,
women must, as a matter of course, be employed in all the work of the
most intimate character, and within the home circle, which concerns their
own sex. It is also true that not a few of the most serious difficulties
and perplexing cases of friction between the missionaries and the
diplomats and civil magistrates, when traced to their real origin, are
due to the more personal and emotional way in which matters of public
interest are regarded by the gentler sex. The legitimate work of foreign
Christian women in the Far East is invaluable; but it should be private
and confined, for the most part if not exclusively, to intercourse with
native girls and women. In all administrative affairs, and in general
where the missions come into closest contact with the civil authorities;
it is better to-day, as it was in the days of early Christianity, that
her voice should not be heard.
The recent history of the planting and growth of Christian missions in
Korea shows a period of bloody persecution which was followed, less than
a score of years later, by a period of remarkably rapid increase. In
1707 some French priests from Peking visited the northern border of the
peninsula, but were unable to enter the country. It was three-quarters
of a century later (1783) that Thomas Kim, a Korean youth who had been
converted to Christianity under the Portuguese bishop, Alexandria de
Gloria, came over from China and succeeded in introducing the foreign
religion into his native land. A year later a royal decree was issued
against Christianity, and Thomas Kim was executed for his faith’s
sake. But, although two other Korean Christians who had been baptized
in Peking were beheaded in Seoul, December 8, 1791, the new religion
began to spread rapidly in Korea. The usual course of such efforts
was being run: others were executed, a new edict in 1802 was issued
against Christianity, and yet, “this added much to the knowledge of the
faith.” In 1836, Pierre Maubant, the second Papal nominee to the post
of Vicar Apostolic of Korea, reached Seoul after an arduous journey;
and when three years later still another murderous edict was issued,
this Christian Apostle and the two other French missionaries who had
subsequently joined him, under instruction from one of the three, Bishop
Imbert, surrendered themselves to martyrdom in the hope of staying the
persecution of their Korean converts. Still Christianity continued to
grow in the number of its adherents; and by the year 1860, the foreign
religion counted nearly 20,000 native converts. Then began, in the early
part of 1866, the infamous slaughter of the faithful under the Tai Won
Kun, the father of the “amiable” ex-Emperor, and the man “with the bowels
of iron and the heart of stone.” Within some five years about one-half
of the entire number of converts had paid the penalty with their lives.
It is not well to forget these facts of history in connection with our
estimate of the character of the Korean Government, the Korean people,
and the development of Christian Missions in Korea. Under the son of this
cruel father, the late Emperor, precisely the same thing might have taken
place at any time, had it been for his interests, in his own sight, to
have it so; and had it not been for his fear of the consequences, after
foreign control began to exercise some restraint over native cruelty. It
is foolish to suppose that the religion or the life of the Protestant
missionary, for example, who has served the ex-Emperor as physician, are
any dearer to His Majesty than were the religion and the services of
the French Roman Catholic priests to the Tai Won Kun. The first thing,
indeed, which the earlier treaties with foreign nations demanded as their
right was the “free exercise of their religion in the treaty ports for
the subjects of the signatory Powers; nor to this day does any article,
expressly[97] sanctioning missionary enterprise, appear in any of the
treaties.” That the Emperor, when freed from the influence of the Tai
Won Kun, was in his youth somewhat sincerely inclined to a more liberal
policy toward foreign religions is undoubtedly true; but almost as
undoubtedly, that his kindness toward American missionaries has been from
a purely political motive and that his use of them has been, not at all
to learn the truths of the Christian religion, but to discover through
them new and improved methods of soliciting and procuring “help” from
so-called Christian nations.
In recent years, moreover, repeated instances have occurred of the
indisposition or inability of the Korean Government to protect either
the foreign missionaries or their native converts. During the second
Tong Hak uprising in the South, in May of 1894, the American missionaries
were called into Seoul for their safe protection. The Chinese army in
Korea during the Chino-Japan war was everywhere a source of terror to
the foreign preachers of Christian doctrine and to their avowed Korean
converts; and in July of 1894 a French priest was murdered by Chinese
soldiers at Kong Hyen, near Asan. On the contrary, both the foreign and
the native Christians felt quite free from anxiety when the troops of
Japan were in control of Korean territory. The spirit of the official
classes toward the foreign religion was revealed in clear light when
the Korean Minister of Education, in October of 1896, issued a book
entitled “The Warp and Woof of Confucianism,” which was so offensive
that it was objected to by the Foreign Representatives in a body as
being disrespectful to them. In general, the capricious favors of an
unscrupulous monarch, who would readily and even gladly deliver to death
those whom he has tried to make, whether with success or not, his tools
to help carve a way through confining surroundings, are a poor substitute
for a system of law and justice, as a soil into which to pour the seed of
Christian truth.
There are said now to be thousands of native Roman-Catholic Christians
scattered about in the country of Korea. Many of the priests, who are
natives, live with their converts; but it is the policy of the Church
to have every one of its members visited once in each year by his
spiritual father. The French Catholic Cathedral (dedicated May 29, 1898)
and establishment is one of the most conspicuous objects in Seoul.
The archbishop in charge is an intelligent, kindly, and devout man.
While speaking with mild disapproval of the treatment received by his
converts a year or two before the arrival of the Resident-General, and
expressing his fear that the Koreans might inevitably be driven to the
wall by the multitudinous incoming of a sturdier and more aggressive
race, he gratefully admitted the marked improvement in conditions which
Marquis Ito was bringing to pass. To “the Church,” however, all political
institutions were indifferent: Her work remained ever one and the same,
and ever equally secure.
The story of Protestant missionary enterprise in Korea since the arrival,
in June, 1883, on a tour of inspection, of Dr. R. S. McClay, has been
frequently told. It need not be repeated here; for the purpose of this
chapter is only to sketch in barest outline the relations existing
between the reforms planned by the Residency-General and the welfare of
Korea as depending upon the progress of the Christian religion there.
General Foote, who was then United States Minister, presented to the
Emperor a statement of the object of the proposed mission which, it was
understood, would be encouraged to work most acceptably along medical and
educational lines. The summary of what has actually been accomplished
along these particular lines has already been given (Chap. XIV). Acting
on the suggestion of Dr. McClay, the Board of Missions of the Methodist
Episcopal Church in the United States sent out two missionaries, one
a graduate of the College of Physicians and Surgeons in New York City
(Dr. Scranton, who, after a long and useful service as a missionary, has
recently been made a Professor in the Government Medical School), and
the other a graduate of Drew Theological Seminary, Mr. Henry Gerhardt
Appenzeller. Before these gentlemen reached Seoul the bloody events of
1884 had taken place. In 1887 followed Rev. George Heber Jones; and in
the same year Rev. Franklin Ohlinger was transferred from China to Korea.
Other helpers were added to this mission, as the demands of the work
grew, until the report for 1907 shows that forty-two foreign members and
thirty-five Korean preachers, ten of whom are ordained, are engaged under
its auspices in the work of propagating Christianity on Korean soil. In
recent years the more visible signs of success have greatly increased.
The summary of statistics presented before the Korean Mission Conference
at its session of June, 1906, was as follows: Full members, 2,810;
probationers, 9,981; Sunday Schools, 116, with teachers and scholars
numbering 8,943. But only a year later, the total connection of the
Church of this denomination in Korea was given at 23,453—of which 19,570
were probationers—a gain over the preceding year of 10,664, or nearly one
hundred per cent. During the same year 3,553 persons had been baptized.
It was on April 5, 1885, that Rev. H. G. Underwood of the American
Presbyterian Mission arrived and “formally opened Protestant clerical
mission work.” He was followed, on June 21st of the same year, by J.
W. Heron, M.D., who died in Seoul, July 26, 1890. To this mission
other workmen were added from time to time; and in November of 1892
a mission of the Southern Presbyterian Church of America was started
by Messrs. Junkin, Reynolds, and Tate, and a Miss Davis. Still later,
on September 7, 1898, three clergymen of the Canadian Presbyterian
Church—Messrs. Foote, McRae, and Dr. Grierson—arrived to open a mission
of this denomination. These several Presbyterian missions have been, on
the whole, well supported from the churches at home, well manned, and
more than ordinarily successful in planting and upbuilding the various
classes of missionary institutions. The table compiled from the council
statistics of these missions for the year ending June 30, 1906, makes
the following exhibit of results. The total number of missionaries was
then 77, of whom 41 were women, and 12 were engaged in medical work. The
native helpers numbered 373, of whom 81 were unordained preachers, and
201 teachers (men), with 42 Bible women and women teachers. The fruits
of these laborers were 20 fully organized churches and 628 out-stations,
or places of “regular meeting,” of which 481 were put down as “entirely
self-supporting.” Connected with them were 12,546 communicants, of which
2,811 had been added during the year, and 44,587 “adherents,” with 11,025
“catechumens” and 36,975 members of the Sunday Schools. The average
attendance upon these regular meetings was 35,262; and the total of
native contributions was $27,418.89, as reckoned in United States gold.
When the poverty of the average Korean Christians and the difficulties
of various kinds which hinder them from the regular discharge of any of
their obligations are considered, this showing of attendance at church
services and of liberality in giving cannot be pronounced otherwise than
remarkable. The increase in every form of work since the report, the
statistics of which have just been quoted, is no less remarkable in the
Presbyterian Missions than in that of the Methodist Episcopal Church.
These two American missions are, among those of the Protestant churches,
much the most active and successful in showing such results as can take
the form of a statistical exhibit. But other missionary enterprises are
worthy of mention. In September of 1890 Bishop Corfe (whose diocese was
Korea and Shing-king, _i. e._, Manchuria) arrived at Seoul to establish
a Church of England Mission. He was preceded by Dr. Julius Wiles, Deputy
Surgeon-General Retired, who opened medical work for the mission and who
was succeeded in 1893 by Dr. E. H. Baldock. With the additional help of
other clergy and lay helpers, and of sisters of St. Paul’s, Kilburn, the
customary forms of church work—evangelizing, translating and printing
a Korean prayer-book and other publications, hospital work and care of
the poor and sick—have been undertaken with that rare good sense and
self-denial which characterize so much of the missionary enterprise of
this Church.
It was not until 1899, in the month of January, that the Russian Church
Mission arrived in Seoul. It consisted of the Rev. Deacon Nicholas;
and he was followed by the Right Rev. Archimandrite Chrisanff and Mr.
Jonas Levtchenke, Psalmist, on February 12, 1900. The dwellings and
school-houses for this mission were established near the West Gate and
were first occupied in the summer of the same year.
No complete account or just estimate of the Christian forces now at
work for the religious and moral uplift of Korea could be given without
emphasizing the presence and fine progress of the Young Men’s Christian
Association at Seoul. The operations of this association did not begin
until November of 1901. Their work has been much embarrassed in the
country places by the illicit use of their name to cover and commend
various unwise and sometimes corrupt and dangerous attempts at so-called
“reform,” or even at sedition and revolution. In Seoul itself—where is
the only legitimate and recognized Y. M. C. A.—some of their make-believe
or would-be friends have done their good cause much more of damage
than has been done by any of their avowed enemies. In spite of these
embarrassments, however, and of others to which fuller reference need not
be made in this connection, the work of this benevolent association has
been most successful. As we have already said, the value of this work
for the moral, industrial, and educational reform of the Koreans has
been officially recognized by a generous subsidy from the Government.
Its efficiency and extent cannot fail to be greatly increased when its
new building, so commodious and centrally located, has been in use for a
number of years. The writer gratefully acknowledges that during his visit
in April and May, of 1907, it was largely through the manly courage and
good sense of its foreign officers, and of that portion of its native
official and other membership which followed the lead of these foreign
officers, that he was able to leave any impression upon the Korean
Christians. Indeed, in the capital city, no other means were found for
even saying a private word to the Koreans in behalf of education, morals,
or religion. It was only when away from the pernicious influences of the
Court—notably at Pyeng-yang—that the courage of the missionaries seemed
sufficient to sustain a platform for such efforts, on the part of the
guest of Marquis Ito, in the churches themselves.[98]
The “Great Revival” of 1906-1907, which added so much to the
encouragement of the missionaries and to the number of their converts,
can best be understood in its most characteristic features when viewed
in the light of what has already been said about the nature of the
Koreans themselves. After a period of silent and slow preparation, a
sudden seizure of the impulse to repent and confess came upon the entire
body of native Christians, and even carried away the foreign teachers
and preachers also. Night after night, and several times each Sunday,
the churches were crowded to suffocation with hearers of their strange
words, and witnesses of their unwonted actions. Especially at Pyeng-yang
did the people, both Christian and non-Christian, flock in from the
surrounding country—first to “look-see,” perhaps, and then to participate
in these extraordinary performances. In numerous instances, the penitent
rose with an appearance of enforced calmness and began quietly to tell
of the sinful experiences of the years both preceding and following his
adoption of the Christian name. But as he proceeded his excitement grew;
his voice rose to a higher and yet higher pitch and assumed a tone of
ever-increasing shrillness; sobbing and wailing intervened; and, finally,
he began to sway to and fro, to beat his head against the mats, sometimes
so violently as to cause the blood to flow; then he fell to the floor,
where he ended his experiences in a complete nervous collapse and lay
prostrate, frothing at the mouth and groaning piteously, or became quite
unconscious.
[Illustration: Funeral Procession in Seoul.]
What may be considered as an official account by an eye-witness of two
of these remarkable meetings gives the following description of the
phenomena:
All were prostrate on their faces, and all alike, with the
exception of the few who had already received a blessing,
were in an agony of repentance. Sometimes they beat their
foreheads and hands against the floor, sometimes they literally
writhed in anguish, roaring as if the very devils were tearing
them; and then at last, when there seemed no more power of
resistance left, they would spring to their feet and with
terrible sobs and crying, pour out their confessions of sin.
And such confessions! It was like hell uncovered. Everything
from murder, adultery, and the most inconceivable abominations
of uncleanness, through arson, drunkenness, robbery, thieving,
lying, down to hatreds, spites, and envyings, was emptied out,
and with what shame and loathing!
At the meeting of the second evening, before even the leader
took his place, the tide of prayer began rising, and although
three young men arose one after another, and attempted to
lead in prayer, their voices were not heard in the tumult of
intercessory supplication that broke out. As prayer continued
the building began to resound with groans and cries. Many
fell forward on their faces and wallowed on the floor. When
something like a semblance of order could be restored, an
opportunity was given to all who had any ill-feeling toward
any one present, or who had wronged any of the others in any
way, to make confession and ask forgiveness. In a very few
minutes the meeting was resolved into numberless groups of
students weeping in each other’s arms. Nor did the members of
the faculty escape; and it was interesting to see them, with
perhaps two or three boys weeping at their knees, and others
hanging about their necks.
In the later stages of the revival, those who went to mock remained to
be carried away by the same impulse; and when they were exhorted by the
foreign or native helpers, either at their place, wedged in among the
others (for the Korean audiences sit packed together on the floor), or
were dragged or helped forward to the altar, they experienced the relief
and happiness of “being converted.”
From the principal centres of this religious movement it spread to
surrounding places—sometimes through those who returned home from these
centres, sometimes through delegates sent out from the same centres.
One of the most remarkable of the latter cases was the experience of
the delegates deputed from Pyeng-yang to visit Chemulpo. At first, when
the church at the latter place saw the brethren from the northern city,
heard their tale, and witnessed their testimony and procedure, they were
greatly alarmed. It was even suggested that one of the visiting brethren
should be put to death as an emissary of the devil, if not a devil
himself. But the zeal of the preachers from Pyeng-yang finally triumphed;
and the church at Chemulpo itself became the scene of similar confessions
and convulsions of penitence.
The student of similar phenomena in the past will have no difficulty in
understanding and appreciating at their true value the experiences of the
“great revival” in Korea. Similar emotional manifestations are common
enough on a variety of occasions, as well in the Korea of the past as in
the Korea of to-day. Indeed, at the very time that the native Christians
of Pyeng-yang were wailing and sobbing, and beating their heads on the
mats, on account of their sins, the multitude of the same city were
doing the same things because they had been deceived into believing that
their Emperor was to be dethroned and carried off to Japan. From time
immemorial, the proper official way to attract the attention of His
Majesty to any request of his officials, or of the people, has been to
make somewhat similar demonstrations before the palace gates or inside
the palace walls. In a word, such is the Korean mode of manifesting any
strong emotional excitement.
But to discredit altogether the sincerity of these confessions or the
genuineness of the following conversion would be a no less grave mistake,
from every point of view, than to place a specially high value on them
because of their abnormal[99] psychological character. It is not strange
that the Korean populace is Korean still, when it suddenly takes to some
new kind of reform, or adopts some new kind of religion. Such strong and
contradictory, and even convulsive, reactions characterize the native in
his politics, his morals, his religion, and his behavior generally. The
amiably cruel Emperor, the smiling and good-natured but, on occasion,
atrociously barbarous court official, the peasant who seems as gentle
as his ox until he turns upon the ox, or upon his neighbor, or upon
the local magistrate, to tear in pieces, reveal essentially the same
psychical characteristics.
But how, it may be asked, as to the kind of Christian father or mother,
Christian citizen, Christian leader, which will be evolved from this
multitude of converts? Here, again, the only fair and reasonable answer
will avoid the two alike tempting but, in the end, disappointing
extremes. During the writer’s stay in Korea, Dr. George Heber Jones,
who fifteen years before had been barred outside of the gates, preached
at Kang Wha to a congregation of fifteen hundred willing hearers, about
one thousand of whom were professing Christians. Multitudes in the whole
Island were just then turning toward Christianity—entire schools and, in
some instances, almost entire villages, were professing the new faith.
In their burning zeal the converts were even resorting to a sort of
boycott in order to compel recalcitrants to the adoption of this foreign
religion. Yet when a colleague of this missionary, a member of the same
mission, was a few weeks later urged to baptize some sixty converts in
one village, he refused to comply with the request in the case of a
single person, because examination showed that none of the sixty had
as yet sufficient knowledge of what was really meant by proclaiming
themselves Christians.
Here, again, however, the student wise in the things of man’s religious
experience will not depreciate the value of such early but ignorant
steps, wherever they are taken from a motive not too degradedly selfish,
toward a higher spiritual life. The infancy of the Church in Korea will,
as a matter of course, be characterized by the infantile condition of the
Korean mind, united, alas! with a morality that is far removed from the
innocence customarily attributed to the human infant. But already the
later experiences of modern missions fully authorizes the expectation
that what Roman Catholicism earlier did to fit the Koreans for martyrdom
under the Tai Won Kun, will be much surpassed in what the combined
efforts of all the Christian institutions now planted in Korea will do
to fit her children for a nobler and happier life under the Japanese
Protectorate.
In fine, the Japanese Protectorate under the present Resident-General,
and the foreign Christian missionaries with their native converts,
command the two sources of power and influence which must unitedly work
for the uplift of the Korean nation. That His Excellency, the Marquis
Ito, takes this view of the matter, he has both by speech and action
made sufficiently clear. That the majority of the missionary body are
taking the same view of the same matter is becoming every day more clear.
If, through any honest difference of opinion upon important matters of
policy, the leaders of these two forces should fail to co-operate in
the future, it would be deplorable indeed. But if either one of the two
should, whether through avoidable misunderstanding or because of the
decline in an intelligent and conscientious desire for the good of Korea,
refuse to co-operate, the refusal would be no less of a misfortune; it
would be also worthy to be called a crime.
CHAPTER XVIII
JULY, 1907, AND AFTERWARD
A telegram from The Hague to the Orient, bearing date of July 1, 1907,
announced the arrival of three Koreans at the place of Peace Conference,
and the publication over their signatures, in a French paper called _The
Peace Conference Times_, of an open letter addressed to the delegates
of all the Powers. In their letter these men claimed to have been
authorized by the Emperor, in a document bearing his seal, to take part
in the Conference as the delegates of Korea. In this connection they
repeated the time-worn falsehoods as to the conditions under which the
Treaty of November, 1905, was signed, and as to the present treatment
accorded by the Japanese to the ruler and people of Korea. In view of
these alleged facts they made in behalf of their country an appeal for
pity and for relief to all the foreign delegates. As was inevitable
from the beginning, the efforts of this deputation at The Hague came
to naught; and after the death of one of their number they departed to
carry on their mission of appeal, first in England and afterward in the
United States. So thoroughly discredited, however, had the word of such
Koreans and of their “foreign friends” already become in the hearing
of all acquainted with the facts, that the mission met with as little
real success in these other foreign countries as at The Hague. So far as
its original purpose was concerned, it ended in failure—miserable and
complete. But in Korea itself the results were by no means transient or
trivial.
The news of the appearance of the so-called Korean delegates at the
World’s Peace Conference was received in Seoul on July 3d. It will be
remembered (see p. 83 _f._) that—to quote from the _Seoul Press_ of
the next day—“when Mr. H. B. Hulbert left for Europe under peculiar
circumstances, there were rumors that he was charged by the Emperor of
Korea with some political mission to The Hague.” This paper then goes
on to say that it did not attach much importance to the rumor at the
time, being unable to reconcile such an enterprise with the reputation
for shrewdness of the chief foreign commissioner, and also “with the
expressions of good will and friendship which the Emperor of Korea has
repeated to Japan and her Representative over and over again.” But there
were even more important reasons why the rumor should seem antecedently
incredible. No one of the present Cabinet, or of the previously existing
Cabinet, appeared to have any knowledge of so serious an affair of State;
no one of either of these bodies had even been consulted by His Majesty
about the possibility of such an undertaking. “Even the best informed
did not dream that a step so palpably useless and treacherous would be
taken.” The conclusion followed that, if the rumor proved true, the act
was ascribable to the Emperor alone, as “instigated no doubt by the
coterie of irresponsible native counsellors and their obscure foreign
coadjutors whose mischievous advice has already so often led His Majesty
astray.” Such a movement was rendered all the more untimely, not to say
unnecessary, because under the new Ministry and the wise and kindly
leadership of the Residency-General, all the foreign and domestic affairs
of the country were now proceeding in the most orderly and satisfactory
manner. Whatever ground for protest and appeal against the treatment of
Korea by the Japanese Government may have existed in the past, everything
in the situation of the spring and early summer of 1907 called for
hopeful and active co-operation on the part of all forces interested in
the welfare of the land. The stirring of the elements always ready for
riot, sedition, arson, and bloodshed, was, under the circumstances, both
a folly and a crime.
On the morning of the same day on which the news of the affair at The
Hague reached Seoul, the Emperor sent the Minister of the Imperial
Household to Marquis Ito with a message disavowing all responsibility
for the delegation and for the protest addressed by it to the Peace
Conference. This was precisely what the delegation had already informed
all Europe His Korean Majesty would certainly do. But then there was
their word against the Emperor’s word; and they claimed that the document
in their possession bore the Imperial seal. There was, moreover, for
the very few who knew the circumstances under which the alleged foreign
member of the delegation left Seoul, the previous private confession of
His Majesty made—to be sure—only after repeated private denials. The
situation was, therefore, so far as the testimony of Koreans went, rather
complex. His Majesty was now publicly denying what he had formerly, in
private, both affirmed and denied; his delegates were publicly affirming
what he was publicly denying, but had previously, in private, both
denied and affirmed. To the Minister of the Imperial Household Marquis
Ito replied that, in view of all the circumstances which had come to his
knowledge—not the least significant of which was the public declaration
of the Imperial sanction, made by the delegation and supported by its
offer to submit its credentials to the inspection of the Conference—the
force of His Majesty’s disavowal was weakened. At any rate, the situation
had now become so grave that the only course the Resident-General could
pursue was to submit the whole matter to his own Government and await its
decision.[100]
The news from The Hague at once provoked a lively discussion on
the part of the Japanese press and the political parties as to the
proper treatment of Korea and her Emperor for this breach of treaty
faith. Meetings were held by the leaders of the principal parties to
determine the policy which should, in their judgment, be followed by
the Government; and several of the more prominent statesmen allowed
themselves to be interviewed for publication of their views upon this
important national affair. Count Okuma was reported as having suggested
that His Majesty of Korea, in case he had authorized a scheme so
lacking in common sense, could not be in his right mind, and might, not
improperly, be placed under restraint. Count Inouye, whose successful
management of Korean affairs at the close of the Chino-Japan war entitled
his judgment to public confidence, thought that if the Emperor could be
induced, or compelled, to come to Japan and see for himself what Japan
had done by way of recent developments, and what Japan wished to do for
Korea, he would voluntarily cease from his unfriendly and treacherous
policy.[101] Of the political bodies, the Constitutionalists, or party
now in control of the Government, took the entire matter most quietly,
and expressed itself as entirely ready to leave the whole situation
in the hands of the Resident-General, as advised or instructed by the
Tokyo authorities. Prime Minister Saionji, to whose cool judgment and
quiet temper the nation is greatly indebted at all times for allaying
tendencies to undue excitement, assured the _Daido_ delegates, on July
12th, that the policy toward Korea had already been established and that
there was really no need of making “much fuss” over the matter. The
Progressives, or strongest anti-Government party, took the most vehement
position of urgency for prompt action and for punitive measures. Some of
its papers went so far as again to call in question the entire policy
of Marquis Ito, with its plan for securing a peaceful development of
Korea under a Japanese Protectorate; but only a few called for immediate
forcible annexation.
On the whole, and considering the great and repeated provocations offered
to Japan by the Korean Emperor and his Government, the Japanese nation
kept its temper in a truly admirable way. While agreeing that some means
must at last be found to stop the interference of His Majesty of Korea
with all attempts to reform internal affairs, and the better in the
future to control foreign intrigues, the general opinion favored strongly
an increased confidence in the character and policy of the existing
Residency-General. The situation in Japan itself was faithfully described
as follows in the _Japan Times_, in its issue of July 14th:
The Hague Deputation question continues to attract serious
attention. The whole Press is practically unanimous in urging
the adoption of such measures as would effectively prevent
the recurrence of similar incidents. The matter has also been
taken up by nearly all the important political parties, and
the attitude adopted by them is tantamount to an endorsement
of the view so unanimously expressed through the newspaper
organs. Very little attempt has been made, however, to point
out in a concrete form the line of action to be taken. It is
evident that, although a small section of the Press unfavorably
criticizes Marquis Ito’s leniency in dealing with the Emperor,
the important organs of opinion have so much confidence in
His Excellency’s ability to cope with the situation with his
characteristic wisdom and efficiency, that they do not think
it necessary to trouble him with suggestions at to matters of
procedure and detail.
The Tokyo Government acted with promptness and decision in dealing with
this latest phase of the everlasting Korean problem. On July 16th it was
publicly announced that the Government had determined to “go along with
the opinion of the people,” and adopt “a strong line of action toward
Korea.” Viscount Hayashi, Minister for Foreign Affairs, was forthwith
appointed to convey in person the views of the Government to His
Excellency Marquis Ito, and was commissioned with the disposal of Korean
affairs after consultation with the Marquis on the spot. Hayashi bore
with him several somewhat different plans, among which decision was to be
reached after his arrival at Seoul; but all of them contemplated leaving
the details very largely to the Resident-General. It is pertinent to say,
_with authority_, in this connection, that none of these plans included,
much less suggested or required, the abdication of the Emperor; although,
as we have already seen, Marquis Ito had become quite conclusively
convinced that the reform of Korean affairs could never be accomplished
with the co-operation of the present ruler of the land, or, indeed,
otherwise than in spite of his utmost opposition.
Meantime there was a great stir taking place among the members of the
different political factions in Seoul. The Emperor himself, now that
his own foolish treachery had been brought to light, was daily becoming
more alarmed. The Court intriguers of necessity shared in this growing
alarm. Before the departure of Viscount Hayashi, the Imperial Government
of Japan had received a telegram from Mr. Motono, Minister in St.
Petersburg, which stated that the new Russo-Japanese Convention would
recognize Japan’s rights in Korea even more completely than the Peace of
Portsmouth had done. The fact, now made evident to the Korean officials,
that the backs of all the nations were turned toward the verbal and
practical falsehoods of their Emperor and of his intriguing foreign
friends, and that the judgment of all those wise in respect of Korean
history and Korean characteristics saw no hope for their country except
through the aid of Japan, tended as a matter of course to deepen this
alarm. And when the determination of the Japanese Government to send one
of its Cabinet Ministers to Korea, in order at once and finally to put an
end to Korea’s power, in treachery, intrigue, and assassination, to work
her own woe and to jeopard the peace of the Far East, was made known, the
consternation in Seoul officialdom reached its height.
The only persons among the Koreans who could be relied upon in any
measure to save the country from well-merited punishment for this
last act of insane treachery on the part of the Emperor and his Court
were the newly appointed Korean Cabinet. It was a great piece of good
fortune for Korea that this Cabinet had previously been appointed and
pledged to fidelity to the interests of the whole country rather than
to connivance at His Majesty’s intriguing ways. On the whole, in this
extreme emergency, the Korean Government behaved wisely, patriotically,
and in a way to secure the crown and the people against the worst results
of the Emperor’s policy. They began their efforts, indeed, in the vain
attempt to discover the plans of the Japanese Government through the
Resident-General and to get His Excellency’s advice upon the best course
of action on their part in order to meet these plans. But Marquis Ito
refrained alike from indicating the steps which would probably be taken
by Japan and also from advising as to the steps which it was best for
Korea to take.
The Korean Ministers were by this time holding daily conferences of
several hours in length. The result of these conferences was the
conclusion on their part that the abdication of the Emperor offered the
only escape from the direful condition in which he had himself placed
his country. As early, therefore, as an audience on the 6th of July,
they began collectively and individually to urge upon His Majesty the
advisability of this step. There is no doubt that they gave this advice
the more heartily because, apart from the present dilemma, they were
profoundly convinced that he was a bad and dangerous ruler, and that
comparatively little could be done for the improvement of Korean affairs
as long as he sat upon the throne of Korea. The occasion was opportune,
then, for terminating such weak misrule and perversion of Imperial power.
Viscount Hayashi arrived at Seoul on the evening of July 18th. In the
afternoon of the same day Marquis Ito visited the Palace at the request
of the Korean Emperor. He found that His Majesty had no suggestions to
make as to the solution of the grave problem before the two governments:
His Majesty continued, however, to disavow the Hague delegation and to
suggest the severe punishment of its members.[102] The more important
reason for the request for this interview appeared when the Emperor
stated that his Cabinet were urging him to abdicate and suggested that
he supposed they were prompted to do so by Marquis Ito. This the Marquis
emphatically denied: so far as the Resident-General was concerned, the
Korean Cabinet were in all respects acting on their own initiative. His
Excellency was himself still awaiting the decision of his own Government
at Tokyo; and until that was announced he had nothing to say as to what
Japan was likely to do. Moreover, since he was not a subject of the
Emperor of Korea he should refrain from advising His Majesty in any way
about the matter of his abdication.[103]
Meantime the Korean Cabinet continued to press upon the Emperor the
necessity of his abdication in the interests of the country at large.
On Wednesday, July 17th, they proceeded in a body to the Palace, where
His Majesty is said to have kept them waiting for their audience with
him for nearly three hours. At this audience, however, they again
explained the nature of the present crisis, and again besought him to
save his country by sacrificing the crown for himself. After a prolonged
interview they are said to have left the Emperor much enraged and still
refusing. But on the next day the Cabinet Ministers repaired again to
the Palace at a quarter to five in the afternoon. Before this meeting
could be over the train bearing the Viscount Hayashi would roll into
the South-Gate Station. The whole affair was culminating; the national
crisis was imminent. For more than three hours the Ministers pressed for
their Sovereign’s abdication, with a most bold and insistent attitude.
It was after eleven o’clock that evening when the Emperor began to
show signs of giving way, and ordered summons to be issued to assemble
the Elder Statesmen. These men soon arrived at the Palace and held a
secret conference among themselves, during which they, too, arrived at
the decision that there was really no alternative for the Emperor; he
should yield to the advice of his Ministers; and the throne was at once
memorialized to this effect. At three o’clock on the morning of the
nineteenth the Emperor agreed to retire in favor of the Crown Prince, and
a decree announcing this fact was published in the _Official Gazette_ at
a later hour the same morning.
From about ten o’clock on Thursday night the people began to assemble
in front of the Palace. By one o’clock in the morning of Friday the
crowd had become dense and began to show threatening signs of a riotous
character; but they dispersed by degrees without serious incidents, until
at dawn scarcely one hundred men were remaining in the neighborhood.
Rumors of the Emperor’s abdication were spread abroad after sunrise;
and again the crowd of excited people increased in front of the main
gate of the Palace and in the streets adjoining. A hand-bill, circulated
from the same source of so much pernicious misinformation—namely, the
native edition of the Korean _Daily News_—which asserted that the Emperor
had been deposed and was going to be carried off to Japan by Viscount
Hayashi, added greatly to the popular excitement. The Korean police,
under Police Adviser Maruyama, however, had the matter well in hand;
and having been earnestly advised by the Resident-General to avoid all
unnecessary harshness, they succeeded in dispersing the people with only
a few trifling encounters. In the work of restoring order and preventing
riot and bloodshed, the police were doubtless greatly assisted by a
timely downpour of rain. For of all people under the sun it is probable
that a Korean crowd of men, with their expensive and cherished crinoline
hats and their lustrous white raiment, most object to getting thoroughly
wet. Patriotism of the intensest heat can scarcely bear this natural
process of cooling.
At 7.15 P. M. on July 19th the Korean Minister of Justice called on the
Resident-General and delivered to him the following message from His
Majesty:
In abdicating my throne I acted in obedience to the dictate
of my conviction; my action was not the result of any outside
advice or pressure.
During the past ten years I have had an intention to cause
the Crown Prince to conduct the affairs of State, but, no
opportunity presenting itself, my intention has to this day
remained unrealized. Believing, however, that such opportunity
has now arrived, I have abdicated in favor of the Crown Prince.
In taking this step I have followed a natural order of things,
and its consummation is a matter of congratulation for the sake
of my dynasty and country. Yet I am grieved to have to observe
that some of my ignorant subjects, laboring under a mistaken
conception of my motives and in access of wanton indignation,
may be betrayed into acts of violence. In reliance, therefore,
upon the Resident-General, I entrust him with the power of
preventing or suppressing such acts of violence.
This appeal to the Residency-General to preserve order in Seoul was made
in view of events which had occurred earlier in the afternoon of the same
day. About a quarter to four a Japanese military officer on horseback
was stopped by the mob while passing in front of the main gate of the
Palace; and when the Japanese policemen in the Korean service came to his
rescue and attempted to open a path for him through the crowd, both they
and the officer were more or less seriously wounded by stones. The mob,
on being dispersed, retreated in the neighborhood of Chong-no. Here a
party of Korean soldiers, who had deserted from the barracks since the
previous night, joined the crowds under the command of an officer. Soon
after five o’clock these soldiers, without either provocation or warning,
fired a succession of volleys upon a party of police officers, killing
and wounding more than a score; whereupon the fury of the mob broke out
anew, and several more were killed and wounded on both sides. The total
number of police officers who lost their lives in this way was ten, and
some thirty or more others were more or less severely wounded.[104] After
this dastardly action the Korean soldiers ran away.
As to the unprovoked character of this deplorable incident the testimony
of eye-witnesses is quite conclusive. Dr. George Heber Jones, who was on
the spot soon after the first sound of firing, says: “In fact all through
the excitement I was impressed with the moderation and self-control shown
by the public officers in dealing with the crowds which had been surging
about them since Thursday night. Their conduct was admirable.” After
narrating the experiences of himself and his companion as they came upon
the dead and wounded lying in the streets and alleys of the district, the
wrecked police-boxes and the officers covered with blood, this witness
goes on to say: “The Pyeng-yang soldiers in the barracks just north of
Chong-no, becoming restive, in the afternoon broke into the magazine of
their barracks and supplied themselves with ammunition. One company of
them then broke out, and under command—it is said, of a captain who was
mounted—suddenly appeared at Chong-no and without warning began firing
on the policemen who were trying to preserve order in the crowds....
A mania of destruction took possession of the people for a time, and
there are reports of assaults on Japanese civilians in various parts of
the city; and from what I personally witnessed there is little doubt of
this, that the scenes of violence which occurred in 1884 were repeated
yesterday.”[105]
As a result of the Emperor’s request following upon this outbreak of
serious disorder, the city of Seoul was put in charge of Japanese police
and gendarmes. A strong body of Japanese troops was posted outside the
Palace, and four machine guns were placed in front of the Taihan or
Main Gate. A battalion of infantry was summoned from Pyeng-yang, and a
squadron of the artillery regiment at Yong-san. The riotous outbreaks
were now mainly directed against those Korean officials who had brought
about the abdication of the Emperor. Over one thousand rioters assembled
near the Kwang-song Gate and, after a short debate, proceeded to assault
and set on fire the residence of the Prime Minister, Mr. Yi Wan-yong. In
spite of the efforts of the Japanese troops and gendarmes, as well as
of the fire brigades, a large portion of the residence was destroyed.
Part of a Korean battalion also assaulted the prison at Chong-no, where
the headquarters of the Japanese police had been established, but were
driven away. At 6 P. M. of Tuesday, July 23d, a huge crowd assembled and
“passed resolutions” that at sunset the headquarters of the Il Chin-hoi,
or party most prominent in its demand for reforms, should be set on fire,
and after this several other buildings were marked for destruction. These
attempts were, however, frustrated; but the villas of Mr. Yi Kun-tak and
Mr. Yi Chi-yung, the former Ministers of War and of Home Affairs, outside
the small East Gate, were burned. Finally, these demonstrations of
rowdyism came to a point of cessation, and the usual order of Seoul was
restored. During the period of rioting the Korean crowd was, as usual,
tolerably impartial in the distribution of its favors; in addition to
Japanese and Koreans, a few Chinese and other foreigners were assaulted
or shot at.
All these events made it entirely obvious, even to the most prejudiced
observer, that the Korean Government was still as incapable of securing
and preserving order in times of popular excitement as it has ever been.
It could not guarantee the safety of its own officials or of foreigners
of any nationality, without outside assistance. Unless the controlling
influence of the Japanese authorities had been exercised, there cannot be
the slightest doubt that a frightful reign of anarchy and bloodshed would
have ensued upon the abdication of the Emperor; and no one acquainted
with the Korean mob, when once let loose, will venture to predict how
many, and whom, it might have involved. Thus far these authorities had
done nothing beyond lending an indispensable support and assistance
to the Korean Government. They were acting wholly in its interests as
centralized in the newly declared Emperor and in the Cabinet Ministers.
One other thing, however, was also made equally obvious. The Korean army
could not be trusted; its continuance as at present constituted was an
intolerable menace to both governments, as well as to the interests of
the people at large. It was intrinsically worthless for the legitimate
purposes of an army, and dangerous in the extreme as a force to provoke
and to intensify all manner of lawlessness. If it had not been for the
mutinous action of these undisciplined troops, who became centres of all
the forces of sedition, arson, and murder, there would probably have been
little or no bloodshed connected with the events of July, 1907.
It should not be forgotten that the Korean Ministers were influenced by
patriotic motives in unanimously and urgently demanding the abdication
of the Emperor.[106] It immediately became evident, however, that His
Majesty did not intend really to abdicate, but that he was continuing his
old tricks of intrigue, double-dealing, and instigating assassination.
There was well-founded suspicion—to quote a statement based on
trustworthy information—that “the unfortunate incident of Friday last
and the mutinous spirit prevailing among the Korean troops were the
result of an understanding between the ex-Emperor and his abettors and
supporters in Seoul.” There was even proof of a conspiracy to have the
Korean troops rise in a body, kill the entire Korean Cabinet, and rescue
from their dominating influence his “oppressed” Majesty. Whatever may
be the full measure of truth as to these and other secret intrigues and
plots for sedition and murder, certain actions were publicly avowed that
were unmistakably in open defiance of the new Emperor and his Ministers,
as well as complete proof that by abdication His Majesty meant something
quite different from what the word was properly held to signify. [This
Korean word was indeed capable of two interpretations; it was, however,
the term customarily employed to signify the relinquishment of Imperial
control and responsibility, while at the same time “saving the face” of
the person abdicating and often increasing his real influence for evil.]
At midnight on Saturday, July 20th, the ex-Emperor summoned to the Palace
and personally appointed Pak Yong-hio to be “Minister of the Imperial
Household.”[107] Upon this Mr. Pak had the impudence to call upon Marquis
Ito on the following Sunday morning and announce his appointment. It
is probable that he did not meet with a very cordial reception, or
succeed well in impressing His Excellency with the dignity and value
of his new office. Not satisfied with this practical retraction of his
own deposition of Imperial functions, when the Cabinet submitted to
the Throne for Imperial signature a draft of an edict calling upon the
people to keep peace and order, the ex-Emperor prohibited his son, now
the reigning Emperor, from signing it and insisted that the edict should
be issued in his own name. In view of all this manœuvering, the Cabinet
Ministers spent another whole night closeted with the ex-Emperor: they
emerged from this new contention with a renewed and perfectly positive
declaration of abdication. At the same time the new Emperor issued over
his own name an edict in which his subjects were warned against all
disloyalty to him, and were exhorted to turn their energies, in reliance
upon his guidance, to the advancement of civilization and of the national
interests.
Nothing could, of course, be done toward settlement of the problem of
future relations between the Governments of Korea and Japan until public
order was restored. But speculation was eager and varied as to what
would then take place: for neither had the Marquis Ito disclosed his
views upon this subject, nor had the instructions of Minister Hayashi
been made known to the public. The telegrams which came into Seoul
from all quarters showed that the civilized world, both diplomatic and
business, expected the out-and-out annexation of Korea by Japan, and the
consequent dethronement of the Imperial house. The Koreans themselves
expected little less; in addition to this they feared the immediate and
open humiliation of having the ex-Emperor carried off to the enemies’
country. Indeed, it was this severe calamity which the Korean Cabinet
hoped to mitigate by procuring His Majesty’s abdication. In the same
hope the most numerous of the several Korean societies of an alleged
patriotic character—the _Il Chin-hoi_, or “All-for-Progress Society”—sent
in a petition, or “pathetic memorial,” to the Residency-General. After
acknowledging “the policy of mildness and conciliation” which had won for
His Excellency the hearts of the Korean people, the memorial proceeds in
substance as follows: “The offence which the Emperor has committed in
connection with the Hague question is great as a mountain; His Majesty
has been very deficient in having a proper sense of what he owes to
Japan. But what fault is there in the people who know nothing about the
affair? Or what culpability in the land and soil of Korea? They are in no
way related to the dynasty of Korea. When we think over these things we
cannot stop the flow of tears in a thousand drops. Your Excellency, we
pray you to have mercy on the mountains and seas of Korea and to place in
a position of safety the 20,000,000 souls, the 3,000,000 homesteads, and
the nation of 500 years,” [The customary expedient of Korean rhetoric is
to be noted in doubling the number of the population of the peninsula.]
It has been said of the Japanese that they treat no one else so
generously as their defeated and prostrate enemy. However this may be, it
is matter of historical truth that after some particularly aggravating
offence from Korea, what Western nations generally would regard as
an excess of chivalric and totally unappreciated kindness has quite
uniformly characterized the treatment accorded to this country by the
Japanese Government. The Bismarckian policy of “making your enemy cough
up all you can when you have him by the throat” has never been the policy
of Japan in dealing with the peninsula. And yet, at last, it should have
been perfectly evident to every true friend of both countries that the
Korean Government—traditionally corrupt, cruel, and regardless of the
Korean nation—must no longer be allowed to stand between this nation and
the plans for bringing it into an improved internal condition and into
safer relations with foreign Powers. That formal annexation was never
contemplated by the Tokyo Government became evident when, on the evening
of July 21st, a congratulatory telegram was received by the new Emperor
from His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor of Japan. To this telegram a reply
was sent on the next day, which read, in effect, as follows: “By the
order of my Imperial father I have ascended the throne at this difficult
crisis, and being conscious of my unworthiness, I am filled with
apprehensions. I beg Your Majesty to accept my profound thanks for Your
Majesty’s courteous telegram of congratulations. I warmly reciprocate
Your Majesty’s wishes for still more intimate relationship between the
two countries and between our Imperial Houses.”
After a number of consultations between Minister Hayashi and the
Residency-General, and between the Japanese representatives and the
Korean Cabinet (who, in their turn, consulted among themselves and with
the new Emperor), at noon of Wednesday, July 24th, Marquis Ito handed
over to the Korean Government a document conveying Japan’s proposals as
the basis of a new Japanese-Korean agreement. After the Korean Ministers
had again conferred with one another, the Premier and the Minister of
War, at four o’clock P. M. of the same day, had a brief audience with
their Emperor. Other conferences continued through the whole of this
memorable night—with the result that at a later audience Mr. Yi Wan-yong,
the Premier, was invested by His Majesty with authority to sign the new
Convention. It is understood that on this occasion, as on that former
equally memorable night in November of 1905, Marquis Ito used the
authority given him to modify some of the details, so as to make them
seem less harsh while preserving the substance of the contract, in order
to “save the face” of the Korean Government. When this Convention was
published in the _Official Gazette_, the Korean politicians of the Palace
“gang” were congratulating themselves on having escaped so easily from
the risk of a punitive expedition to which their Emperor, by their own
assistance, had subjected them; the Korean Cabinet were congratulating
themselves on the deliverance of their country from the peril of
annexation; while the majority of the Korean people, even in Seoul,
seemed quite indifferent to what had happened.
Immediately upon the conclusion of the new Convention Marquis Ito
summoned to his residence the principal Residency-General officials
and acquainted them with its terms. He also informed them that he
should himself adhere constantly and firmly to the policy of carrying
out its stipulations; and he exhorted them to bear in mind what he had
just said and to spare no pains to discharge their own duties with
moderation and efficiency. The officials, in their turn, congratulated
the Resident-General upon his brilliant success, and promised their
co-operation in the new plans now before them.
The Agreement of July 24, 1907, definitively places the enactment
of all laws and ordinances, the administration of all important
Korean Government affairs, and all official appointments which
relate to internal administration, under the control of the Japanese
Resident-General. Its preamble renews the assertion which has governed
the policy of Marquis Ito throughout—namely, that the motive is to be
found in “the early attainment of the prosperity and strength of Korea,”
and the “speedy promotion of the welfare of the Korean people.” Moreover,
it pledges the Korean Government to keep judicial affairs distinct from
administrative affairs. With regard to the appointment and dismissal of
officials of the higher rank, whether native or foreign, it is specified
that the consent of the Resident-General must be secured; and also that
his recommendations for the appointment of Japanese to official positions
shall be followed. Taken in connection with the Convention of November,
1905, therefore, the present condition of Korea is undoubtedly that of a
country completely dependent upon Japan for both internal government and
also for commercial and diplomatic relations with all foreign countries.
For the present the autonomy of Korea, except so far as it is preserved
in certain customs and laws which even the source of control would be
forced to regard, and in the nominal preservation of the Korean crown and
its Cabinet Ministers, is suspended. The native government can suggest,
propose, and assimilate suggestions and proposals; but they can neither
initiate nor control in important affairs without the consent of the
representative of Japan. On the other hand, the plans and proposals of
the Japanese Resident-General must be accepted and carried out under his
supervision and ultimate control.[108]
The clause in the new Convention which gave most offence to the official
classes and to the Yang-bans generally in Korea was that which opened
the door, per force as it were, to the appointment of Japanese to all
kinds of official positions in the peninsula. Although it has been the
declared policy of the present Resident-General to retain the Korean
Cabinet Ministers, the agreement plainly makes it easily possible for
the Japanese Government to treat desirable appointments in Korea as
freely in the interests of its own countrymen as is possible for the
British Government in British India. The pledge, however, to maintain the
Imperial House in the nominal possession of the crown, and in the show of
authority and dignity which go with this possession, appears still to be
binding upon Japan. From this time onward, the Resident-General becomes
the uncrowned king of Korea.
In spite of this, and of all the other features of these reformed
relations which might seem offensive and humiliating to Korean
officialdom, it is altogether likely that no considerable disturbance
would anywhere have taken place, had it not been for the action of the
same disorderly and rebellious factors which occasioned the bloodshed
and confusion of Friday, July 19th.[109] These were the Korean troops
belonging to the barracks at Seoul. Let it be distinctly understood that
these troops were not disciplined soldiers; much less were they sincere
though misguided patriots. They were largely untrained rowdies, who cared
chiefly for the pay, prestige, and idle life which their employment as
so-called palace guards gave to them. At the time of the conclusion
of the Convention an understanding probably existed between the
Resident-General and the Korean Ministry, who were themselves threatened
with assassination and the defeat of all their work by these same armed
and unscrupulous fellows, that the Korean army should be disbanded.
Late on Wednesday night, July 31st, an Imperial rescript was issued
which ordered the disbandment of the Korean Army. The reason assigned
was the necessity of economizing all superfluous expenses and applying
the funds thus saved to material improvement. The existing army was
called “mercenaries”[110] and said to be “unfit for purposes of national
defense.” The intention was announced to remodel the entire military
system and, for the present time, to attend chiefly to the training of
officers for a national army in the future. A small select force was to
be retained as guardians of the Imperial House, and a gratuity in money
was to be bestowed upon every one of the disbanded troops, according
to rank. All the reasons here given for this action were quite in
accordance with the facts; but the most important of all was, of course,
concealed—namely, that the existing army was the most serious of all
menaces to good order and to peace. It was sure to be the tool, for
purposes of assassination, of the reactionary party.
Early the following morning—Thursday, July 31st—the superior officers
were summoned to the residence of General Hasegawa, where General Yi,
the Korean Minister of War, read to them the rescript of disbandment.
After conference it was decided that the non-commissioned officers
and men of all the battalions in Seoul should be marched without arms
to the parade ground inside the East Gate of the city and there be
dismissed after receiving their gratuities from the Emperor. They were
to be present for this purpose by ten o’clock of the same morning. Soon
after eight o’clock, as the Japanese instructor of the Korean Army was
engaged, in its barracks, in drawing up the first battalion of the
First Korean Regiment, a great noise of weeping and groaning was heard,
and the fact was made known that its commander had committed suicide.
This was the signal for the springing up of a great excitement, during
which the troops broke their ranks and threatened the Japanese officer
with a murderous attack. The mutiny spread at once to another battalion
occupying adjoining barracks. The mutineers then proceeded to break open
the magazines and, arming themselves, they rushed out of the barracks.
They thereupon posted sentinels around the barracks where the majority of
the forces still remained, who began to fire aimless shots from within
upon the passers-by. Meantime some of the troops ran away.
From this centre the mutiny spread, the mutineers rushing out from
the barracks to fire upon the Japanese officers who were conducting
to the parade ground the other Korean battalions; but soon after the
appointed time of ten o’clock all the Korean forces had reported there,
with the exception of the two mutinous battalions. The reduction of the
mutinous soldiers was no easy matter, for the main force was entrenched
behind stone walls near the centre of the city, and the Japanese forces
attacking them were much embarrassed by being fired upon by those of
the number who had rushed out from the barracks. But the use of several
machine guns—two of which, after being planted on the wall of the Great
South Gate, were trained so as to cover the advance of the Japanese
infantry—and a hand-to-hand fight with bayonets and hand-grenades at the
barracks soon reduced the mutinous Korean soldiers. By 10.50 A. M. the
barracks were completely in the hands of the Japanese. The casualties as
estimated in the official report of General Hasegawa were, on the side
of the Japanese, 3 killed, and 2 officers and 20 men wounded; on the
side of the Koreans, 11 officers and 57 men killed, and 100 officers and
men wounded. Korean officers and men, to the number of 516, were taken
prisoners. The best possible care was given to the wounded, both Koreans
and Japanese, in the government and missionary hospitals—Marquis Ito, and
his suite, and the prominent Japanese ladies belonging to the Red Cross
Society and Patriotic Associations, visiting them in the hospitals and
making generous contributions to their assistance and comfort.
In one respect, however, the Japanese military authorities made a mistake
which their hostile critics were not slow to seize upon and exaggerate to
the discredit of their management generally. It appears that the services
of some thirty civilians were volunteered and accepted to assist the
police and soldiers in searching for the fugitive mutineers. Much bad
blood had been stirred up between the two nationalities by the previous
unprovoked attack and murder of the Japanese police at the hands of
mutinous Korean soldiers. In the spirit of vengeance, therefore, there
was no doubt considerable return of excesses on the part of irresponsible
individuals among the Japanese civilian volunteers. Otherwise, the
very trying situation in which these revolts of the Korean military
forces placed the Japanese Government in Seoul was apparently met with
commendable moderation and skill.
One of the most noteworthy features of this entire disturbance was the
complete aloofness of the people of Seoul from any hostile demonstration
toward the Japanese. Within forty-eight hours of this battle between
their own disbanded troops and the foreign military, the city resumed its
normal appearance; the people went about their accustomed occupations;
the full tide of business began to flow as usual. Such behavior as this,
under anything resembling similar conditions, has seldom or never before
characterized the populace of Seoul. It must be interpreted as a hopeful
sign for the future good order and prosperity of the city.
The disbandment of the Korean provincial garrisons for the most part
proceeded quietly. But the disbanded soldiers in considerable numbers
allied themselves with other elements of riot and unrest, and local
disturbances of a more or less serious character continued to break out
and demand suppression by the police and the military, here and there
in various parts of the peninsula. This state of things continued for
weeks and, in a diminishing degree, for months following the Convention
of July, 1907. But the detailed account of these transactions does not
concern our narrative. Under the circumstances they may be considered
as temporary but unavoidable incidents in the practical solution of
this complex and difficult historical problem of the relations to be
established between Japan and Korea. Among the mutinous and riotous
outbreaks that at Kang-wha Island—the scene in the past of so many
acute conflicts between Korea and foreign nations—was typical and
also, perhaps, one of the most important. When the Japanese captain
in command of a detachment of Japanese troops, and accompanied by the
Korean commander of the native battalion at Suwon, arrived to disband
the Korean garrison and to distribute the gratuities, they were met by
a shower of bullets poured upon them while landing on the island. The
Korean mutineers retreated to the city of Kang-wha, where they were
joined by some 300 rioters. Under cover of the city walls they offered a
somewhat stubborn resistance to the attacking forces, but were finally
dislodged and fled in various directions. It was afterward learned that
the Korean troops, in defiance of their own officers, had broken open
the military magazine, murdered the magistrate of the island and several
policemen, and had then forced some hundreds of the citizens, by threats
of death, to join with them in fighting the Japanese. When the real
fighting began, they ran away.
The procedure at Kang-wha, we repeat, was typical. It is a specimen of
the Korean ancestral way of resisting every form of government. The
method of these “patriotic” uprisings was everywhere similar. Several
score or hundreds of Koreans, stirred and led by the disbanded soldiers,
came together, killed the Japanese—old men, women, and children—as well
as the police officials, shot some of their own countrymen, chiefly
those suspected of not being sufficiently violent in their anti-Japanese
sentiments, burned and plundered indiscriminately; and then when the
Japanese military or police approached in any formidable numbers they
ran away and hid themselves. In view of these disturbed conditions and
the alleged connection of some of their converts with these uprisings,
the missionaries were anew placed in a difficult and delicate situation.
This, however, like the greater number of similar previous trials, was
not primarily due to the Japanese Protectorate, but to the Koreans
themselves—Emperor, officials, and common people. There were numerous
plausible charges made against the missionaries and their converts of
harboring Korean rioters and even of lending countenance to the rioting
under the pretence of patriotism. There can be little doubt, however,
that these charges were, almost if not quite without exception, either
misunderstandings or malicious falsehoods. The misunderstandings were, in
view of the past, not altogether unreasonable; the falsehoods were such
as are encountered by the religious teacher wherever he seems to stand
in the way of unlimited greed or unchecked violence. On the whole, as
has already been said, there can be no doubt that the missionaries and
their Korean converts exerted a notable influence in favor of quietness,
peace, and the observance of law and order. That the native Christians
were alarmed, and stood in fear both of the Japanese and of their own
countrymen, was a thing to be expected. But probably their experience
in this time of trial with the behavior of these foreign policemen and
soldiers tended to diminish the native dislike and dread of the Japanese
Protectorate.
At once the strength of the reform party among the Koreans themselves
began to make itself felt under the terms of the new Convention. On the
date of August 15th an Imperial rescript forbade boys under seventeen
years of age, and girls under fifteen, from contracting marriages. The
same day the new Emperor proclaimed the purpose, which he afterward
carried out, to cut his hair on the occasion of his formal accession
to the throne and to dress himself in military uniform from that time.
The ex-Emperor, in spite of the fact that he had formerly been glad to
see his people excited to rebellion and murder by a similar proposal
for changing the fashion of the Korean gentleman’s head-dress, and in
spite also of the fact that weeping eunuchs and ancient Court officials
besought him not to proceed to such lengths in breaking with the past,
actually did subsequently join in the new custom. And when the deed
was done, His ex-Majesty was pleased to command the objectors to do
likewise, and to say for himself that the change was really not half so
bad as he had thought it would be. Now, although these are not trivial
matters in Korea, or mere straws which show the way of the blowing
of the wind, a more important result of the new Convention was this:
after due deliberation, the Cabinet Ministers decided that the young
son of Lady Om who had already been proclaimed Crown Prince, must in
future really attend to his lessons and become educated in some manner
befitting his future expectations. Although it was doubted whether His
Imperial Highness was not still too young to go to Japan for study, he
was required to begin the study of the Japanese language in addition to
English and Chinese. Left to the influence of the eunuchs and palace
women, he was sure to be debauched and ruined. Educated, he may easily
make the best sovereign Korea has enjoyed for centuries.
At once also the Resident-General began to mature the larger plans for
carrying out his purposes toward Korea which the new Convention made
possible. For now upon the Japanese Government in Korea rested the
responsibility, not only for the satisfactory and safe management of
the country’s foreign relations, but directly and more heavily than
ever before, the readjustment, reform, and successful management of all
its internal affairs. To report to the Emperor of Japan, and to consult
with His Majesty and with the Japanese Government about the form and
successful execution of the measures made necessary or desirable by the
new Convention, Marquis Ito paid a visit to his native land. Leaving
Seoul by special train for Chemulpo on the afternoon of August 11th, His
Excellency arrived at Oiso five days later; and on the Tuesday following,
August 20th, received at Shimbashi Station in Tokyo a reception, both by
the official class and by the crowds, such as has seldom or never been
accorded to a civilian before in the history of Japan. The reception
given to him by the Emperor, who had sent an Imperial Chamberlain to
intimate his desire to consult with the Resident-General, was scarcely
less unique.
In the many public addresses which followed, at the various banquets and
receptions given to the Marquis, he took pains to make it perfectly clear
that his benevolent intentions toward the Korean people had in no respect
suffered a change. Of himself he declared that he was neither elated in
spirit over the success of the new treaty, nor depressed in spirit before
the new difficulties which must be encountered. He wished his countrymen
to remember that the Korean problem was not political, not one of the
successful exploitation of a weaker nation by a stronger, but a question
of that policy which should be for the highest interests and best
welfare of both nations. The need of the hour was the need of men—both
Japanese and Koreans—who could stand in the places of responsibility and
influence, and discharge their duties faithfully, honestly, unselfishly.
The work which he had undertaken to do in Korea was only a beginning;
and on account of advancing age he must soon let it go from his hand.
At present, however, he was in harness and must remain so. When the
time came for him to resign, he hoped sincerely that some able and wise
successor in the office—now so increasingly responsible—of Japanese
Resident-General in Korea might somewhere be found.
This historical and critical sketch of the relations between the two
nations of Japan and Korea fitly closes with the visit of Marquis—now
Prince—Ito to Tokyo in August of 1907. The results to follow from the
plans which were then matured for the administration of the offices
of the Residency-General and for the more ultimate solution of the
delicate and complex problem of bringing about a state of affairs which
shall at the same time redeem Korea and deliver Japan from the constant
menace which the peninsula has hitherto been—and not only this, but
shall bind the two nations together in a common prosperity under terms
of friendship and good-will, are destined to form important items in
the future history of the Far East. It remains only to add that no one
who could have heard the firm and feeling-full declaration made to the
writer by His Excellency when the latter was on the eve of returning to
Seoul, would question the wisdom, honesty, or benevolence of the Japanese
Resident-General in Korea. As fast and far as _he_ can have his way, this
long-time misgoverned and wretched nation will be reformed and uplifted
to an unwonted economical and political prosperity.
CHAPTER XIX
THE SOLUTION OF THE PROBLEM
The rôle of the prophet in his predictive function, and with reference
to the destiny of nations, is always a delicate and dangerous part to
play. The danger is particularly great when the complex and largely
unfamiliar ideas and emotions of Oriental peoples constitute the
controlling factors in the situation; it is made still greater at the
present time, as regards the future of the Far East, by the increasing
admixture of foreign and Western influences. Above all, however, is the
situation complicated by the unsettled and totally uncertain condition
of China. Here are countless millions of an industrious, patient, and
thrifty, but almost incredibly ignorant and superstitious, population;
corrupt and intriguing official classes and an essentially foreign
Court; indefinitely great resources of soil and mines, and an almost
limitless capacity for foreign trade, which makes it the coveted
territory for exploiting schemes by both European and Asiatic nations.
Into this hitherto relatively inert mass the ferment of new conceptions
of civilization and of life, of the things which are worth the having
and which may be had, if men will struggle and fight for them, is now
being everywhere introduced. The restlessness of feeling, with its
stimulus to violence, which has formerly resulted for the most part in
local uprisings against excessive squeezing from their own officials,
or against too obvious interference with their ancient institutions and
present material interests by foreigners, is now taking the form of a
purpose which may quickly change, and by bloody revolution if necessary,
the character of the Chinese Government and even the nature of Chinese
characteristic civilization. What will be the effect of all this upon
the entire Far East, is a question which would require of any student of
history a bold, an audacious front to answer in a confident tone.[111]
In this uncertainty as to the future of the Far East, Korea shares, as a
matter of course, to a large extent. For, even now that certain important
factors in the problem of the Japanese Protectorate over Korea seem to be
relatively stable, the problem as a whole remains exceedingly difficult
and complex. How will Japan succeed in solving this problem? Will it be
by the way of developing the material resources of the land, on the whole
peacefully, and chiefly for the benefit of the Koreans themselves; of
reforming the economic, administrative, and judicial condition of the
common people; and of making a foreign rule to be esteemed a blessing
rather than an odious imposition? Or, will it be by the way of reducing
Korea to a condition of virtual vassalage, and of making its people
a dissatisfied nation, ever ready for revolt and only kept down from
successful revolt by the strong arm of a foreign police and a foreign
military force? Will Japan really succeed in solving this problem at all?
All suggestions in answer to these and similar questions are of value
only as they are rendered more or less probable in view of such facts as
those to which attention has been directed in the preceding chapters of
this book.
The future of Korea and of the Japanese Protectorate over Korea will
inevitably depend upon the action and reaction of three classes of
factors. These are the attitude and behavior of other foreign nations;
the native capacity for self-government and the actual conduct of the
Koreans themselves; and the policy of Japan, not as a theory or an
experiment merely, but as embodied in industries, laws, institutions and
other forms of practical effect.
In all past time, but especially during the last half-century, the
relations of Japan and Korea have been chiefly determined by the attitude
and behavior of other foreign nations, both toward and within the Korean
peninsula. It was the desire of Japan to get at China through Korea,
and the determination of the Chinese Government to resist and thwart
this desire, and to retain for itself the supremacy in the control of
Korean affairs, which brought about the invasion of Hideyoshi, with its
persistent train of consequences lasting well down into modern times.
Until the end of the Chino-Japan war, and especially in the events of
1882 and 1884, as well as in those events which immediately preceded
the war, it was what China did or proposed to do, which formed the
principal influence to determine the relations of Japan and Korea. After
this war had definitively and finally delivered the peninsula from all
Chinese claims to suzerainty, or even to predominating influence, it
was chiefly the attitude and actions of Russia which decided the more
active relations of Japanese to the Korean Government. France and Germany
at the close of the war with China, and France during the period just
preceding the war with Russia, exercised considerable influence—of a less
obvious and direct character, however—upon the relations of these two
governments. During the last three or four years which cover the period
that began toward the close of the Russo-Japanese campaigns, Great
Britain and the United States have powerfully, but for the most part
indirectly, affected the newer relations that have been in the process
of forming between Japan and Korea. The Government of Great Britain has
been the fair ally and sensible counsellor of the Japanese Government;
the United States, while maintaining an official attitude distinctly
favorable to giving the Residency-General a “free hand” for his plans
to accomplish reforms in Korea, has been, by complicity of some of its
private citizens with a false and corrupt Emperor, a no inconsiderable
source of embarrassment. The same thing would have to be said of some of
the British residents in Korea.
Recent Treaties and Conventions with Great Britain, France, and Russia,
have now, however, made it as certain as anything in the political future
of human affairs can well be, that none of these powerful nations will
for some years to come interfere in the policy or administration of the
Japanese Protectorate in Korea. So far as their action is concerned,
Japan has only to maintain her pledges of “equal opportunity,” the
“open door,” and “hands-off” from China for purposes of plundering its
territory, and she may now try without foreign interference her plans
for the improvement of her relations with this hitherto most troublesome
neighbor. Indeed, the way in which the Convention of July, 1907, with
its increase of legal rights to control the internal administration and
reshape the entire code and economic and social system of the Korean
peninsula, has been received by the Powers generally, shows that no
formidable objection from without would be raised if Japan should
substitute out-and-out annexation for the now-existing Protectorate. The
four great nations whose territorial possessions give them a supreme
interest in the Far East, have already formally accepted the existing
situation; there is less and less likelihood of meddling, as authorized
by other European or American nations, on the part of their diplomatic
representatives.
Furthermore, in Korea itself, those squabbles with foreigners which have
arisen out of conflicting promoting schemes and claims to concessions,
since order is being rapidly brought out of the confusion they have
occasioned, are likely to cut less of a figure in the future. The
anti-Japanese missionaries and other foreign residents in Seoul are
being either won over, or their complaints silenced, by the policy
of the Residency-General. If the criticisms of the dealings of Japan
with Korea were much more just and severe, they would not be likely
to involve international complications of any serious magnitude. Only
China remains—huge, mysterious, incalculable both for good and for evil,
a vast overhanging cloud, with here and there a flash of lightning or
streak of sunlight shining through. But for some time to come it is
altogether unlikely that the Celestial Empire will be able, however
willing, to re-establish any claims to a dominating influence, much less
to a restored suzerainty, in the Korean peninsula. This first class of
factors, which have been so influential and even determinative in the
past, may therefore not improperly be eliminated in making up one’s
calculations as to the probable future. In other words, the issue will
now be determined by the behavior toward each other of the two peoples
immediately concerned. Japanese and Koreans will now be allowed to work
out the problem of the relations—for the weal or for the woe of both
peoples—to exist and prove effective between Japan and Korea.
What shall be said, however, as to the part which the Korean Government
and the Korean people themselves are likely to contribute toward solving
the difficult and intricate problem of the future relations of the two
nations? The basis for a plausible answer to this question must be found
in an estimate of the material resources of Korea and in a calculation
as to the share which the Koreans are destined to have in the improved
conditions brought about by the development of these resources. It
has already been shown that the soil of the peninsula, under improved
methods of cultivation, can easily be made to support double the existing
population. Reforestation and proper treatment of the forests remaining
can easily supply this increased population with fuel and with timber.
The introduction of new crops, and the increase of the products of cotton
and silk, the fostering of such forms of manufacture as are fitted to the
country, and the development of the mines, can just as easily be made to
place this two-folded population in circumstances of greatly increased
comfort and prosperity. And with it all will go, of course, the building
up of foreign trade and the securing of all the benefits that follow in
its train. But who will actually possess the fruits of this development;
will it be the Koreans themselves, or the Japanese immigrants?
So far as the answer to this question depends upon the enactment and
the enforcement of a just legal code—the right to an equal chance, and
security of this right if only the man is able to seize and improve
it—the Japanese Residency-General is solemnly pledged and actually
committed. But laws, courts, educational institutions, and banking
facilities cannot do everything. After all these, and in the midst of
all these, there is _the man_—his physical and mental characteristics,
his moral and spiritual impulses. Overwhelming Japanese immigration
is perhaps, then, greatly to be dreaded by the Koreans, even when the
former can no longer take from the latter by fraud or by violence. The
dread, however, that the Koreans will be supplanted by the Japanese
would seem by no means to be wholly warranted in view of existing facts.
The actual native population of the Korean peninsula is difficult to
ascertain; but the latest census, taken in the spring of 1907, shows
that it was probably greatly overestimated by the previous statistics.
This census gave the numbers as 9,638,578 people inhabiting 2,322,457
houses. A census of the Japanese population in Korea, January 31, 1907,
returned the figures of 81,657 in all, of which 31,754 were females.
As compared with the returns for March 31, 1906, this census showed an
increase of about 20,000 in the non-official Japanese population (a
calculation not differing greatly from that based upon the returns of
the steamship agency at Fusan, see p. 143 _f._). Making allowance for
those immigrants who failed to register, we may calculate that not far
from 100,000 Japanese, exclusive of the army and the civil officials,
were resident in Korea during the summer of 1907. The great majority
of these immigrants were traders, artisans, and common laborers; but
an increasing number of Japanese farmers were settling, especially in
the fertile valleys of Kyung-sang-do and Cholla-do. Of these traders,
artisans, and common laborers, many are engaged in building Japanese
houses and in construction work on the Japanese railways; by no means all
such immigrants are likely to become permanent residents in Korea. With
the farmers the case is not the same.
Is the annual rate of Japanese immigration into Korea likely to increase
greatly in the future? No one can tell positively; but the negative
answer seems much the more likely. The day of temptation to the mere
adventurer is largely gone by; the Koreans themselves are likely to
become acquainted with the way of doing things as the Japanese demand
requires they should be done, and then many of these foreign traders,
artisans, and laborers will have their places taken by Koreans.
Formosa, Manchuria, and Hokkaido are rivals of Korea for the Japanese
agriculturists and other kinds of permanent settlers; South America and
other countries offer greater inducements to the emigration companies.
Moreover, at about the same time that the results of these censuses
were published, a local paper in Seoul published the birth and death
statistics of the Japanese colony there. These statistics showed that
during the previous year there had been an excess of deaths over births
among the Japanese in Seoul. Of births there were 312—187 male and 125
female, while the deaths amounted to a total of 464—308 male and 156
female. And yet there are few old people, and almost none who came as
invalids, in this foreign population.
Let it be supposed, however, that the annual net increase of Japanese
population in Korea amounts to 20,000 for the next fifty years. There
will then be only somewhat more than one million of this now foreign
population. But meantime the Korean peninsula will have become quite
capable of supporting double its present native population. Besides
this, there are those—to the opinion of whom the present writer is
strongly inclined—who feel confident that fifty years from now the
distinction between Korean and Japanese, among the common people, will
be very nearly, if not quite completely, wiped out. And, indeed, the two
nations are of essentially the same derivation, so far as their dominant
strains of ancestral blood are concerned; and great as are the present
differences between the Japanese in Japan and the Koreans in Korea,
there is no real reason why both Japanese and Koreans should not become
essentially one people in Korea.
There is then, it would seem, no essential and permanent reason of
a material sort why Korea should not remain Korean in its principal
features, if the next half-century shows the expected results in its
material development. We have seen that the present Residency-General
is committed to the policy of developing the land in the behalf of its
own inhabitants, while according all just and natural rights, and all
reasonable encouragement, to foreign immigration and to foreign capital.
Again, however, the same decisive but as yet unanswered questions return:
Can the Court be purified? Can an honest and efficient Korean official
class be secured, trained, and supported by the nation? Can that middle
class—which is in all modern nations the source of the controlling
economic and moral factors—be constituted out of the body of the Korean
people? And, finally, can the great multitude, the Korean populace, be
made more intelligent, law-abiding, and morally sound?
As to the purification of the Court at Seoul under the ex-Emperor, and so
far as his influence could be extended—such a thing was found impossible
by the Resident-General. Warnings, advice, experience of evil results—all
were of no avail. This weak and corrupt nature would not free itself
from its environment of sorceresses, eunuchs, soothsayers, and selfish
or desperate, corrupt, and low-lived native and foreign advisers; and
without the conversion of the Emperor, under the former conditions, the
Court could not be made more intelligent, honest and patriotic. So long
and so far as the ex-Emperor can exercise his parental influence upon
the present Emperor in national affairs, the part which the Court plays
in the redemption of the nation will be comparatively small. But this
influence is now broken; and the measures which are being taken wholly
to nullify it can scarcely fail to succeed. If it becomes necessary, His
ex-Majesty can be given a residence remote from Seoul. The Convention of
July, 1907, gives to the Japanese Resident-General a hitherto impossible
control over the _entourage_ of the Emperor. It is therefore altogether
unlikely that any future ruler of Korea, even if he should wish to follow
this bad example, this most disastrous precedent, will be able to rival
for mischief his predecessors, by way of encouraging fraud, violence,
and sedition at home, and foreign misunderstandings and interferences
through the help of unwise or unscrupulous “foreign friends.” Moreover,
the present Emperor, so far as can be judged by the brief experience
under his rule, is either not disposed, or not able, to continue the evil
practices of his Imperial ancestor. The proposals for reform brought
before His Korean Majesty seem now to meet with neither open nor secret
opposition. Best of all, the palace horde of evil men and women is being
reduced from within, and excluded from without; and this, in the absence
of complaints and petitions for pity, sent over the civilized world, from
the royal “prisoner” under a blood-thirsty Japanese guard! Thus there is
solid ground on which to build hopes of a far less corrupt, a much more
intelligent and honest, Korean Court.
That honorable and brave leaders—generals, civil rulers, magistrates,
and judges—_can_ come out of Korean ancestry, there is the evidence
of history to show. True, the number of such leaders, through all
the past centuries of Korea’s sad and disgraceful career, has been
relatively small. But, as has been repeatedly pointed out, this fact has
been largely due to the corrupt official system, and the ever-present
corrupting influence, which has come from across the Yellow Sea—that
is, from China. The Cabinet officials who had to meet the severely
trying emergency which ended with the abdication of the Emperor, a new
Convention with Japan, and the pacification of a people much given
over to local disorders and to the spreading of the spirit of riot
and sedition, on the whole acquitted themselves well. It is, indeed,
difficult to see how they could have done better for the country under
the existing circumstances. That timber can be grown in Korea, out of
which may be hewn in the future enough material for a sound and fair
official edifice, there is, we think, no good reason to doubt. Under
the recent Convention the responsibility for framing laws, policing the
country, securing order, appointing a just and intelligent magistracy,
as well as developing schools and industries and arts, rests primarily
upon the Japanese Government. If moderation and wisdom can be secured
here, a sufficient force of native official helpers and partners in all
the benevolent projects of the Marquis Ito can probably in due time also
be secured. In order, however, that Japanese and Korean officials should
co-operate heartily, and should live and work together in peace, it is
necessary that the underlying principle of their co-operation should be
not selfish, but controlled by devotion to duty and by an intelligent
and sincere desire to secure the welfare of both nations. Only such
high motives can unite men of different nationalities, or even of the
same nation, in works of economic reform and moral improvement. This is
only to say that in Korea, as everywhere else in the ancient and the
modern world alike, the real and lasting success of the government must
depend upon its intelligence and its righteousness. It is to be hoped
that the capacity for both these essential classes of qualifications for
self-government is in the Korean blood, if only it can have tuition,
example, and freedom for development.
With the improvement of the economic and industrial conditions in Korea,
and especially with the enlarged opportunities for foreign commerce, a
fairly intelligent and well-to-do middle class population is likely to
result from the Japanese Protectorate. This class is in a process of
evolution in Japan itself. It is essentially the product, “natural”—so to
say—where public schools exist and thrive, and where the conditions are
favorable to manufacture, trade, and agriculture on any large scale. But
especially is such a class one of the most sure and valuable results of a
more highly moral and spiritual religion. Christianity distinctly favors,
when it becomes practically operative, the formation of a middle class.
In Korea hitherto there have been only, as a rule, corrupt and oppressive
rulers and officials, and ignorant, oppressed, and degraded multitudes.
The foundation of schools of the modern type, especially for technical
and manual training, and the spread of Christianity, will, almost
inevitably, combine to raise a body of thrifty, fairly intelligent, and
upright, self-respecting citizens. This will go far toward solving the
problem of the reform and redemption of Korea.
As to the destiny of considerable numbers of the lower orders of the
people, that is perhaps unavoidably true which has been said of the
Korean farmers: “A large percentage of them are past all hope of
salvation.” The professional robbers and beggars, the riotous “pedlers,”
the seditious among the disbanded troops or the “tiger hunters,” the wild
and savage inhabitants of the mountainous regions, the people who live
by thieving, counterfeiting, soothsaying, divining, and other illicit
ways, will have to submit, reform, or be exterminated. Doubtless, many of
them will prefer to be exterminated. But our examination of the previous
chapters encourages and confirms the hope that something much better
than this is possible for the great multitude of the peasants among
the Korean people. Marquis Ito has set his heart on helping this class
toward a much improved condition. The promise of this he has distinctly
affirmed in both private and public addresses, and has indeed done all
that he possibly could to confirm. It is this also upon which every
true-hearted missionary is most intently bent. For it was to these same
multitudes—sheep without a shepherd—that Jesus came; on their uplift
and salvation he set his heart. It would be contrary to the experience
of the centuries to suppose that an enlightened form of education and a
spiritual religion could combine in the effort to raise the multitudes of
any nation, without resulting in a large measure of success.
It would seem, then, that the responsibility for a successful and
relatively permanent solution of the difficult problem offered by the
geographical, historical and other important relations of Japan and
Korea, under the now existing Convention between the two governments,
rests most heavily upon the Japanese themselves. They have at last
“a free hand”; the material with which they have to deal in order
to construct a new and improved national structure is, indeed, in
bad and largely unsound condition; but it is not hopeless, and it is
not radically deficient in the qualities necessary for a sound and
durable structure. Korea is, inherently considered, capable of reform;
but at present it is not capable of self-government, much less of
self-instituted and wholly self-controlled reform. Japan has taken upon
herself the task of furnishing example, stimulus, guidance, and effective
forces, to set this desirable ideal into reality. No other nation has
this task; no other nation is going seriously to interfere with Japan
in its task. On the Japanese Government and the Japanese people rests
the heavy responsibility of securing a new and greatly improved national
life for the millions of the Korean peninsula; if they succeed, to them
will chiefly be the praise and the profit; if they fail, to them will
chiefly be the shame and the loss. At present, and in the near future,
it is the last of these three sets of determining factors—namely, the
policy and practice of Japan herself with reference to Korea—which will
have the final word to say in the solution of this difficult problem. The
judgment of the civilized world is already pronounced upon this matter.
Korea has already been judged impotent and unworthy to be trusted with
the management either of her own internal affairs or of her relations to
other nations in the Far East and in the world at large. Japan has been
judged to be most favorably situated and, for the protection of her own
interests, best entitled to undertake and to carry through the reform and
reconstitution of Korea. Japan also will in the future be judged, by the
judgment of the civilized world and by the verdict of history, according
to the way in which she fulfils her duties, and accomplishes her task, in
Korea.
Will Japan prove equal to the management and the development of the
internal resources, civil government, and foreign relations, of her
weaker neighbor in such a way as to command the title to a righteous
and genuine success? No one can answer this question with a perfect
confidence. In many important respects the present is an exceedingly
critical time for the Japanese Government and the Japanese nation in
respect of the condition of its own internal affairs. The same thing
is true of Japan’s relations to foreign nations. The army and navy
deserved and won praise from all the civilized world for its bravery,
skill, and moderation in the last war. And after the war terminated in
a treaty of peace which, while it was at the time wisely made on the
part of the real leaders of the nation, was exceedingly disappointing to
the military and naval forces and to the people at large, the whole of
Japan, with the exception of few and brief demonstrations of resentment,
obeyed the wise counsels and injunctions of His Imperial Majesty, its
Emperor. In obedience to these injunctions the nation turned quietly and
diligently to the pursuits of peace. But in these pursuits Japan is by
no means so far advanced, when judged by modern standards, as she was
in the preparation for, and conduct of, war both by land and by sea. In
manufactures and every form of industry, in trade and commerce, in the
devising and management of the means of communication, in education,
science, and literature—everywhere in these lines of peaceful national
activity there is a great deficiency of trained and trustworthy helpers,
even for the supply of her own immediate needs. In all these matters of
national interest and import, the cry of her leaders is for the right
sort of _men_. How, then, shall Japan at the present juncture supply in
sufficient numbers the workmen to meet the needs of the hour in the
reform and uplift of Korea?
Moreover, as the nation of Japan advances in these many lines, it is
inevitable that it should meet the same difficulties, embarrassments,
and dangers which in yet severer form are testing the leading nations
of Europe and America. Trusts and labor unions—both likely to become
the enemies of the Empire as they have so largely in the United States
become the enemies of the Republic—are already growing apace. Even more,
perhaps, than anywhere else outside of Russia and parts of Germany,
insane theories of ethics, philosophy, and religion, are captivating
the minds, and controlling the conduct, of not a few of her students
and other young men. As in the United States, especially, but also in
all the countries of Europe, the old-fashioned parental control and
discipline of the home-life is being greatly relaxed. The over-estimate
of so-called science and the conceit of modernity are working mischief in
the character of not a few. And the life of the millions of the people is
not yet lifted to the higher grades of morality and religion.
With regard to the right national policy toward Korea there has also
been, as we have seen, a long-standing difference of opinion. This
difference still exists, although it was for the time submerged by the
tide of enthusiastic approval which welcomed the policy of Marquis Ito
when, under the grant of liberty of action from His Imperial Majesty,
with the consent of the Elder Statesmen, and the co-operation of Minister
Hayashi, the Convention of July, 1907, was successfully concluded. Many
of the military leaders, however, continue to favor a more punitive and
war-like attitude toward any resistance on the part of the Koreans.
The mailed fist, with its threats, rather than the open palm, with its
promise of friendly assistance, seems to them better fitted to the
situation. And it can never be expected that there will be a cessation
of the desires and efforts of that crowd of Japanese adventurers,
promoters, and unscrupulous traders, who are as ready to make game of
the resources of Korea as are the smaller number of no less selfish
foreigners residing in the peninsula but claiming the protection for
their schemes of other nationalities. Of the two, the latter are in not a
few cases much the more difficult to deal with in a manner satisfactory
both to the honor of the Japanese Protectorate and also to the interests
of the Korean people. All these schemers, as a matter of course, have
scanty faith in the slow and patient methods of education, economic and
judicial reform, which are deliberately chosen and persistently followed
by the present Residency-General.
Such tendencies as those just mentioned undoubtedly make it more
difficult to predict with confidence the success of Japan in the task
of building up a strong and healthy national existence out of the so
largely dead and decayed material furnished to its hand. But there
are other tendencies, and other forms of influence, now existing and
growing in vigor among the Japanese of to-day, which strongly encourage
the hopeful view. The nation emerged from the war with Russia in much
more sober and thoughtful frame of mind than that which followed upon
the close of the Chino-Japan war. The enormous losses of life, and the
heavy debt left upon them by the expenditure of treasure, tended to keep
down the self-conceit and headiness which might have followed an easier
victory. And in spite of the immediate disadvantages growing out of
the fact that the terms of the Treaty of Portsmouth fell so far below
their expectations, and below what seemed to them at the time their
just deserts, it was probably best in the preparation for their future
enterprises and struggles to have the war end as it did. Of the sincere
desire of Japan for peace with the whole world, no one who knows the
nation can have the slightest honest doubt.
There has also been a great awakening of interest in moral problems
since the Russo-Japanese war. This interest is not confined to any one
class. In all the Government schools, of every description, especial
attention is being given to ethics. This is the one study which is kept
most constantly before the minds of the pupils, from the earliest stages
of their training to the end of the graduate courses in the university.
Aware of the unworthy reputation of its business men, in respect of
business morality, the commercial schools, higher and lower, government
and private, are placing emphasis upon the side of moral instruction and
discipline in preparation for business life. The men, now past middle
life, who were trained to the respect for honor and the feelings of
devotion which characterized the _Samurai_ (or Puritan knights) of the
old _régime_, and who have been the inspirers and guides of all that has
been best in the “New Japan,” are still, though they are growing old and
fewer in number, controlling the destinies of the nation. They have the
confidence of His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor of Japan, who steadily
throws the great weight of his influence upon the side which favors
combining these ancient virtues with a modern education. Among the men
in middle life there still lingers, indeed, much of those influences and
practices which have cost the New Japan so dearly, in loss of reputation
and of failure to make good use of some of her choicest opportunities.
But the new and better spirit is most conspicuous with the younger
educated men; the boys and girls in the public schools are receiving
a form of education and discipline which, considering Japan’s poverty
and newness of resources, surpasses that of any other country in the
civilized world. Moreover, the ear of the nation is open to religion as
never before in its history. This increased feeling of need, and this
higher estimate of the value of an improved morality and a more spiritual
religion, together with the arousing and directing of the nation’s
energies into the development of its material resources and its foreign
trade, are the distinctive features of the national life of the Japanese
at the present time.
There is another thing about the temperament of the Japanese which is
often of most powerful influence, and yet most difficult for foreigners
to appreciate. This is the force of sentimental considerations, which
frequently triumph over those considerations that are regarded by
other peoples as of more importance in practical affairs. Already,
the sentiments of generosity, of pity, and of a sort of condescending
kindness, have triumphed in the management of Korean affairs by the
Japanese. The history of the relations of the two countries has amply
illustrated this fact. These sentiments, which are certainly dominant to
a large extent with the Residency-General, when reënforced by the growing
respect for morality and religion, will—it seems fair to suppose—be even
more powerful in the future.
Still further, Japan has successfully overcome many enormous
difficulties, and has bravely and well met many most threatening
emergencies, during the last fifty years. Over and over again during
this period, her case has seemed almost desperate. But each time the
nation has rallied and has climbed upward to a higher and better level
in its national life. True, this has been due, to a large extent, to the
wisdom and skill of the men who have thus far led the nation. And they
are passing off the stage. That the younger spirits who are coming on
will serve their day with equal courage, wisdom, and success, is our hope
and our belief. Then there will be assured the third and most important
class of the factors which, in their combination with the other two, will
secure the new, redeemed Korea in friendly relations, in amity and unity,
with Japan, her benefactor as well as her protector.
There is no essential reason why Japanese and Koreans should not become
one nation in Korea. Whether this nation will be called Korea or Japan,
time alone can tell. That it will be a happier, more prosperous, more
moral and truly religious people than the present Korean people,
there is sufficient reason to predict. Indeed, considering the brief
time which has elapsed since the Convention of November 17, 1905, the
improvement already accomplished under the control of the Japanese
Residency-General, if not all that could be wished, has been all that
could reasonably have been expected. The two peoples have learned to
live peacefully and happily together, in certain places, both of Japan
and of Korea, in past times. The conditions favoring their union, and
indeed amalgamation, in Korea itself are to-day incomparably better
than they ever were, in any large way, before. If Marquis Ito, and his
sympathetic, effective supporters, at home and in the Residency-General,
can be sustained for five years, and can be succeeded for a generation by
those of like purpose and character, then the problem of the relations
of Japan and Korea will have been solved. The present opportunity has
cost both countries centuries of trouble, strife, and loss. That all
the difficulties should be at once removed, and all the reforms at once
efficiently be carried out, it is not reasonable to expect. But now that
Japan has won this cherished opportunity, the civilized world requires,
and the civilized world may expect, that the opportunity will be on the
whole well improved. Such will undoubtedly be the issue if His Imperial
Majesty of Japan, the Marquis Ito, and others of like mind, have their
way.
The Korean problem has become a part of the larger problem—namely,
the realization by Japan of a worthy national ideal. We close, then,
this narrative of personal experiences, and its following presentation
and discussion of diplomatic proceedings and historical facts, with a
quotation that expresses our hopes and our beliefs, and that is taken
from a bronze tablet which is to stand in the campus of the Government
School of Commerce at Nagasaki, Japan:
By a happy union of modern education and the spirit of Bushido,
inherited from countless generations of ancestors, Japan has
triumphed in war. By ceaseless improvement of the one, combined
with enlargement and elevation of the other, she must win in
the future the no less noble and difficult victories of peace.
In Industry and Art, in Science, Morals, and Religion, may
Dai Nippon secure and maintain a well-merited place among
the foremost nations of the civilized world—thus enjoying
prosperity at home and contributing her full share toward the
blessing of mankind.
APPENDIX A
PROTOCOL SIGNED FEBRUARY 23, 1904
ARTICLE I
For the purpose of maintaining a permanent and solid friendship between
Japan and Korea, and firmly establishing peace in the Far East, the
Imperial Government of Korea shall place full confidence in the Imperial
Government of Japan and adopt the advice of the latter in regard to
improvements in administration.
ARTICLE II
The Imperial Government of Japan shall in a spirit of firm friendship
ensure the safety and repose of the Imperial House of Korea.
ARTICLE III
The Imperial Government of Japan definitely guarantees the independence
and territorial integrity of the Korean Empire.
ARTICLE IV
In case the welfare of the Imperial House of Korea or the territorial
integrity of Korea is endangered by aggression of a third Power or
internal disturbances, the Imperial Government of Japan shall immediately
take such necessary measures as the circumstances require; and in such
cases the Imperial Government of Korea shall give full facilities to
promote the action of the Imperial Japanese Government.
The Imperial Government of Japan may, for the attainment of the
above-mentioned object, occupy, when the circumstances require it, such
places as may be necessary from strategical points of view.
ARTICLE V
The Governments of the two countries shall not in future, without mutual
consent, conclude with a third Power such an arrangement as may be
contrary to the principles of the present Protocol.
ARTICLE VI
Details in connection with the present Protocol shall be arranged as the
circumstances may require between the Representative of Japan and the
Minister of State for Foreign Affairs of Korea.
APPENDIX B
PROTOCOL SIGNED AUGUST 22, 1904
ARTICLE I
The Korean Government shall engage as Financial Adviser to the Korean
Government, a Japanese subject recommended by the Japanese Government,
and all matters concerning finance shall be dealt with after his counsel
being taken.
ARTICLE II
The Korean Government shall engage as diplomatic adviser to the
Department of Foreign Affairs, a foreigner recommended by the Japanese
Government, and all important matters concerning foreign relations shall
be dealt with after his counsel being taken.
ARTICLE III
The Korean Government shall previously consult the Japanese Government in
concluding treaties and conventions with foreign Powers, and in dealing
with other important diplomatic affairs, such as the grant of concessions
to, or contracts with, foreigners.
APPENDIX C
CONVENTION OF JULY 24, 1907
The Governments of Japan and Korea, with a view to the early attainment
of the prosperity and strength of Korea, and to the speedy promotion of
the welfare of the Korean people, have agreed upon and concluded the
following stipulations:—
ARTICLE I.—The Government of Korea shall follow the direction
of the Resident-General in connection with the reform of the
administration.
ARTICLE II.—The Government of Korea shall not enact any law or
ordinance, or carry out any important administrative measure,
except with the previous approval of the Resident-General.
ARTICLE III.—The judicial affairs of Korea shall be kept
distinct from the ordinary administrative affairs.
ARTICLE IV.—No appointment or dismissal of Korean officials
of the higher grade shall be made without the consent of the
Resident-General.
ARTICLE V.—The Government of Korea shall appoint to official
positions under it such Japanese as may be recommended by the
Resident-General.
ARTICLE VI.—The Government of Korea shall not engage any
foreigner without the consent of the Resident-General.
ARTICLE VII.—The first clause of the Agreement between Japan
and Korea, signed on the 22d day of the 8th month of the 37th
year of Meiji, is herewith abrogated.
In faith whereof, the undersigned, duly authorized by their
respective Governments, have signed this agreement and affixed
their seals thereto.
(L. S.) MARQUIS HIROBUMI ITO,
_H. I. J. M’s. Resident-General_.
The 24th day of the 7th month of the 40th year of Meiji.
(L. S.) YI WAN-YONG,
_H. I. K. M’s. Minister, President of State_.
The 24th day of the 7th month of the 11th year of Kwang-mu.
[The clause in the Protocol of August, 1904, which is declared abrogated
by the seventh article of the new Convention, apparently refers to the
promise of the Korean Government to engage a Japanese subject as their
official Financial Adviser. It was, of course, rendered unnecessary by
the new Convention.]
APPENDIX D
SUMMARY OF THE MOST RECENT MEASURES FOR THE ORGANIZATION OF THE KOREAN
GOVERNMENT
The revised Organic Regulations of the Korean Government, published
by an extra of the _Official Gazette_ (December 23, 1907), cover the
five Administrative Departments for Home Affairs, Finance, Justice,
Education, and Agriculture, Commerce and Industry. As for the Cabinet
and War Office, they had not as yet reported any changes introduced in
their Regulations. In addition to the particular Organic Regulations for
each department there are Regulations common to all the Departments,
the War Office not being excepted. The latter Regulations consist of 21
articles which outline the responsibility and duty of the Ministers,
Vice-Ministers, and other officials, and fix the date for the enforcement
of all the revised Regulations for January 1, 1908. Regulations for the
organization of the different offices under the Departments of Home,
Finance, and Justice were promulgated at the same time, including the
Provincial Governor’s Office, Metropolitan Police Office and Customs
Office.
To give a brief epitome of the Regulations for each administrative
department: The Home Office is to contain three bureaus for local
affairs—Police, Engineering, and Hygienics, with a Director for each.
The rest of the staff consists of 12 secretaries, 5 commissioners, 5
engineering experts, 3 translators, 62 clerks, 10 police sergeants, 5
assistant engineering experts and a number of policemen. The Finance
Department contains the three bureaus of Revenue, Accounts, and Managing
Finance, each with a Director. Thirteen secretaries, 7 commissioners, 2
translators, and 100 clerks constitute the staff of this Department. The
Department of Justice will have bureaus for Civil and Criminal Affairs,
and each bureau is controlled by a Director. The regular staff of this
department comprises 9 secretaries, 4 commissioners, 3 translators, and
40 clerks. In the Department of Education there are bureaus for School
Affairs and for Edition and Compilation, with a Director each. The
regular staff includes 7 secretaries, 4 commissioners, 3 engineering
experts, 28 clerks, and 6 assistant engineering experts. The Department
of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry will be divided into five
bureaus—namely, Agriculture, Commercial and Industrial, Forestry, Mining,
and Marine Products; and each bureau has a Director at its head. The
regular staff of this Department includes 8 secretaries, 5 commissioners,
15 technical experts, 1 translator, 49 clerks, and 60 assistant technical
experts.
In addition, each Department has a Minister’s Chamber, and a private
secretary will be appointed to each Minister of State.
The Regulations for the Financial Department provide for the creation
of a Temporary Bureau for investigation of the national resources, with
a staff consisting of a Director, a secretary, 3 commissioners, and 5
technical experts.
More detailed regulations for the different offices under these
departments are to be issued later.
The most recent advices from Korea report that the rioting, arson, and
murder, headed by the disbanded Korean soldiers, is greatly diminished,
and that the country is reverting to its normal condition so far as
deeds of disorder and violence are concerned. The visit of the Crown
Prince of Japan greatly gratified the pride and appeased the fears of the
Imperial family and Yang-bans of Korea. Before leaving Seoul, Prince Ito
laid the corner-stone of the new building of the Young Men’s Christian
Association in that city. The Crown Prince of Korea, the son of Lady
Om, whose guardianship Prince Ito has taken upon himself, accompanied
by Ito, arrived in Tokyo, where he is to be placed in the Peers School,
and was received with distinguished honors both by the Imperial Family
of Japan and by the populace. The reports also show that the trade
relations have had a significant increase between the two countries; but
the most significant item is this: the exports of Korean products, which
are for the most part rice and beans, exceed the imports from Japan by
some 3,000,000 _yen_. The establishment of friendly relations between
the two countries appears, therefore, to be moving forward rapidly; and
the political and economical redemption of the peninsula appears to have
been successfully begun. The first and, of necessity, most doubtful and
difficult in the stages of the Passing of the Old Korea may therefore be
said to have been already accomplished.
FOOTNOTES
[1] For the following description of Seoul, besides my own observations,
I am chiefly indebted to a series of articles published during our stay
there by Dr. G. Heber Jones in the Seoul _Press_.
[2] This may seem incredible, but it is a fact that, as late as the
spring of 1907, even a basket of fruit could not be sent to the Emperor
with the confidence that the eunuchs and palace servants would not steal
it all. At every garden-party the dishes and even the chairs had to be
carefully watched.
[3] It is now proper to say, since his own abdication and the Convention
of July, 1907, have followed, that the Korean Emperor after repeated
denials, confessed at the time to a faithful foreign friend (not a
Japanese) that he had given to Mr. Hulbert a large sum of money to
execute a certain commission the nature of which he kept secret. In
spite of this friend’s importunate urging and vivid representation of
what the consequences of the act might be to himself and to his family,
His Majesty refused to telegraph a recall of the commission. He did,
however, so far yield to the same pleading as to agree not to furnish a
further sum of money which had been asked in behalf of the influence of
another “foreign friend,” the editor of the most violently anti-Japanese
newspaper.
[4] This document probably emanated from the same press in
Seoul—conducted by a subject of Japan’s friendly ally, Great Britain—from
which came the lying bulletin that afterward caused so much bloodshed
on the morning of Friday, July 19th. It is a comfort to know that this
same editor has since been indicted by his own Government for the crime
of stirring up sedition, condemned to give bonds, and threatened with
deportation if his offences are repeated.
[5] Hulbert, _The History of Korea_, I, p. 368.
[6] _Japan_, I, p. 69 _f._
[7] See _The History of the Empire of Japan_, (volume prepared for the
World’s Columbian Exposition at Chicago, 1903), p. 38 _f._
[8] _Ibid._, p. 47.
[9] _The History of the Empire of Japan_, p. 278 _f._
[10] _Ibid._, p. 280.
[11] See Griffis, _The Hermit Nation_, p. 159.
[12] See _The History of the Empire of Japan_, p. 304.
[13] _Japan_, IV, p. 207.
[14] See _The History of the Empire of Japan_, p. 403 _ff._
[15] This is on the authority of Mr. D. W. Stevens, whose acquaintance
with the facts is most accurate and full.
[16] _China’s Intercourse with Korea from the XVth Century to 1895_, p. 1
_f._
[17] _Foreign Relations of the United States_, 1871, p. 112.
[18] Quoted from the paper referred to above.
[19] For this account, as here given _verbatim_, I am indebted to the
Hon. D. W. Stevens, who was at the time of my visit, “Adviser to the
Korean Council of State and Counsellor of the Resident-General.”
[20] The list of these reforms is given in the volume of the _U. S.
Foreign Relations_, containing the report sent to the United States by
Minister Sill, September 24, 1894.
[21] _International Law and Diplomacy of the Russo-Chinese War_, p. 43
_f._
[22] Hershey, _International Law and Diplomacy of the Russo-Chinese War_,
p. 44 _f._
[23] _Ibid._, p. 45 _f._ See also the account of Dr. K. Asakawa, _The
Russo-Japanese Conflict_, p. 263 _ff._
[24] So Mr. Whigham, in his admirable book on _Manchuria and Korea_.
(London, Isbiter & Company), p. 123.
[25] _The Passing of Korea_, p. 167.
[26] See on this and allied points, the lecture delivered by Mr.
Rockhill, at the United States Naval War College, Newport, August 5, 1904.
[27] _The Passing of Korea_, p. 210 _f._
[28] _Manchuria and Korea_, p. 119.
[29] See Appendix A for its text.
[30] See Appendix B.
[31] _War and Neutrality in the Far East_, p. 216 _f._
[32] See especially Hulbert, _The Passing of Korea_, p. 464 _f._
[33] The narrative which follows may be trusted to correct most of these
misstatements. But among them, some of the more important may here
be categorically contradicted. Such are, for example, the statements
that armed force was used; that General Hasegawa half drew his sword
to intimidate Mr. Han; that Hagiwara seized the latter with the aid of
gendarmes and police; that the Minister of Agriculture continued to hold
out; that he and Minister Pak, during the conference, withdrew from the
Japanese Legation and betook themselves to the Palace, denouncing the
compact (something no one acquainted with the geographical relations
of the two places would be likely to assert with a sincere belief);
that the Emperor ordered the consenting Ministers to be assassinated;
that Japanese troops patrolled the streets all night, etc., etc. One
curiously characteristic error of Mr. Hulbert is involved in the
statement, published in one of the papers of the United States, which
makes his commission by the Korean Emperor to lodge an appeal with
President Roosevelt the cause of hastening the Japanese Government in
their iniquitous _coup d’état_. The truth is that the Japanese Government
had made all the preparations for Marquis Ito’s departure, and the plan
afterward carried out had been carefully formulated, weeks before it
was known that Mr. Hulbert was going to the United States. The Marquis
was only waiting the return of Baron Komura to Japan before leaving for
Korea. No thought whatever was at any time given to Mr. Hulbert. It is,
in general, late now to say that the efforts of those “friends of Korea,”
who have taken the Korean ex-Emperor’s money while holding out to him the
hope of foreign intervention, have done him and his country, rather than
Japan, an injury impossible to repair.
[34] In order to understand the following negotiations and all similar
transactions conducted in characteristic Korean style, it should be
remembered that delay, however reasonable it may seem or really be, is
in fact utilized for purposes not of reflection and judicious planning
for future emergencies, but the rather for arranging intrigues, securing
apparent chances of escape from the really inevitable, with the result of
an increasing unsettlement of the Imperial mind.
[35] He was preparing to go when the Minister of the Household called
with a message requesting the Marquis to postpone the conclusion of the
Treaty two or three days.
[36] None of the party gathered in the council chamber saw Mr. Han after
that. It seems from the accounts subsequently given by Palace officials
that a little later Mr. Han went upstairs still deeply agitated. His
evident purpose was to gain access to the Emperor, which, as he had not
requested an audience, was a flagrant violation of etiquette from the
Korean point of view. But the poor man in his confusion turned the wrong
way and stumbled into Lady Om’s quarters. Some of the officials led him
to a small retiring room, where he spent the night. The next morning
it was officially announced that he had been dismissed from office in
disgrace and would be severely punished. Marquis Ito immediately begged
that the Emperor would pardon him, and, in deference to this request,
Mr. Han was permitted to go into retirement with no other punishment
than the loss of his office. The whole proceeding was one of those
things which apparently can happen only in Korea and not excite any
one’s special wonder. No one seemed to know precisely why the Minister
was punished. He was amiable, not very strong mentally, but well-meaning
and of comparatively good repute; he had done his best to carry out
the Emperor’s wishes as he understood them, and, having failed, as was
inevitable, his grief was the best proof possible of his sincerity;
and one would think it might have excited sufficient pity to preclude
resentment. However, it should be added that the sincerity manifest in
Mr. Han’s grief did not extend to his memory or his powers of narration.
At least that is an inference which one may draw from certain published
accounts of these occurrences—Mr. Han having seemingly been the
fountain-head of the information.
[37] The Marquis’ reasons for refusing hardly need explanation. Japan had
already secured some measure of control over the internal administration
of Korea by previous arrangements. The acceptance of the proposed
amendment would have been virtually an abrogation of these arrangements,
notably of the most important portion of the Protocols of February 23
and August 22. To that, of course, the Marquis could not agree. Besides
this, the control of Korea’s foreign relations necessarily required some
measure of control and guidance over the administration of her internal
affairs. The relations between external and internal affairs, their
frequent interdependence, is so intimate, that it would have been a grave
mistake to assume the obligations which the one imposed without the power
to guard against complications which might follow from maladministration
of the other. As the case stands, the insertion of the word “primarily,”
while soothing Korean susceptibilities, does not affect the control of
the Protectorate in any material respect.
[38] The following facts with regard to the possession of the Imperial
seal of Korea and its affixing to this important document, are given
on the authority of Mr. D. W. Stevens. They are a complete refutation
of the charges which have been made regarding this part of the entire
transaction. It was the unavoidable delay in bringing the seal to the
Palace which gave rise to these extraordinary stories. “What actually
happened,” says Mr. Stevens, “was this. While the treaty was being
copied, Mr. Pak went to the telephone and directed the clerk in charge
of the seal at the Foreign Office to bring it to the Palace. After some
delay he went again to the telephone and repeated the order. At the time
the only two persons in the office were the clerk in charge of the seal
and Mr. Numano, my Japanese assistant. Both were just then reading in the
room where the clerk slept and where the seal was kept. The telephone
bell rang, and the clerk who answered it informed Mr. Numano that Mr. Pak
had ordered the seal to be brought to the Palace. He was putting on his
street clothing preparatory to obeying the order when the Chief of the
Diplomatic Bureau of the Foreign Office came into the room and asked the
clerk where he was going. The clerk informed him, whereupon he went to
the telephone and called up Mr. Pak. He implored the latter not to agree
to the Treaty and, finally, receiving Mr. Pak’s peremptory order to cease
interfering, threw himself down upon the clerk’s bed in great grief.
After this, there was no further interruption from any quarter, and the
seal was taken quietly to the Palace.”
It throws light upon the control and use of this seal to observe that,
when in the summer of 1907 he was committed to the responsibility for the
Commission to The Hague Conference by the fact that the commissioners
were ready to prove their Imperial authorization by showing the Imperial
seal, His Majesty did not admit this as evidence in proof of their claim.
Nevertheless, there is no doubt that this use of his seal was also with
his knowledge and permission. And, now, in connection with the various
details inaugurated under the new Treaty which followed this violation of
the Treaty of November, 1905, we are told that henceforth the Imperial
seal will be kept _in a safe_ especially prepared for it, and carefully
protected from intrusion.
[39] It is a significant fact that this memorial which is here followed
very closely—and in the most important places even literally—has received
no attention from the hostile critics of Japan. It would seem as though
neither Mr. Hulbert nor Mr. Story is aware of the existence of such
a memorial. This is the more remarkable in the case of the former,
because he was for years resident in Seoul, was familiar with the Korean
language, and was gathering material for his written account of the
affair while upon the ground.
[40] It will, therefore, clearly appear that no one acquainted with this
memorial can honestly place any confidence in His Majesty’s subsequent
denials of the significance of these facts. Shall we not also be obliged
to add, that no one who is acquainted with the memorial is entitled to
the confidence of any one else, if he puts confidence in the denials of
the Emperor. Amazement at the audacity of the falsehoods which have been
told with regard to this historically important transaction would seem to
be the fitting attitude of mind.
[41] This part of the memorial agrees closely with the statements in the
first part of the chapter, as to what was then said.
[42] The purpose of this significant Memorial, we repeat, is
self-evident. The Ministers, who had agreed to the Treaty by the
Emperor’s commands and with his concurrence and approval, were being
attacked as traitors. The Emperor himself was secretly favoring the
attack and endeavoring to create the impression that he had not agreed to
the Treaty, but that it was the work of the recreant Cabinet without his
approval. The Memorial forced him to abandon that position once and for
all. As before stated, it was officially promulgated with the Imperial
sanction, and should have ended all controversy at once. In any country
but Korea, and with any but the class of writers whom these incidents
have developed, that would have been its result.
[43] An amusing illustration of the ex-Emperor’s way of filling his privy
purse is found in the following authentic incident. At one time the large
sum of 270,000 _yen_ was wanted in cash to pay a bill for silks and jades
which, it was alleged, had been purchased in China for Lady Om. When the
request was made to exhibit the precious goods which had cost so enormous
a sum, and which were going to make so large an unexpected drain upon
insufficient revenues, the show of materials was entirely unsatisfactory.
But, if not the goods, at least the bill itself could be produced. A bill
was then brought to light, with the items made out in due form, but by
a Chinese firm of merchants in Seoul instead of in China. The Chinese
Consul-General, on being inquired of, replied that there was indeed such
a reputable Chinese firm in the city; and he desired to have the matter
further investigated lest the credit and business honor of his countrymen
might suffer by connection of this sort with His Majesty’s efforts to
obtain ready money. Investigation elicited the fact that a certain Court
official had visited this firm and inquired how much such and such things
_would_ cost, _if_ purchased in Shanghai. But no goods had been delivered
or even actually ordered!
[44] See Hulbert, _The History of Korea_, II, p. 61 _f._
[45] _The History of Korea_, I, p. 339.
[46] See Hulbert, _The History of Korea_, II, p. 54.
[47] Hulbert, _The Passing of Korea_, pp. 50, 58.
[48] _The Passing of Korea_, p. 67.
[49] _The Passing of Korea_, pp. 38, 41.
[50] _Ibid._, p. 43.
[51] See the account of the “Baby War” and “Breast Hunters,” _The History
of Korea_, II., p. 245.
[52] _The Passing of Korea_, pp. 311, 319, 369.
[53] _Ibid._, p. 283.
[54] _Ibid._, p. 247.
[55] Whigham, _Manchuria and Korea_, p. 185.
[56] See a pamphlet bearing this title as an “Authorized Translation of
Official Documents published by the Resident-General, in Seoul, January,
1907,” p. 7.
[57] During all my visit in Korea it was commonly reported by those
intimate at Court that the Crown Prince was an imbecile both in body and
in mind. But in his boyhood he was rather more than ordinarily bright,
and his mother, the murdered Queen, was the most clever and brilliant
Korean woman of her time. It is not strange, then, that since his
accession to the throne and in view of his obviously sensible way of
yielding to good advice from others, in spite of the evil influence of
his father, the impression has been made that he might have been feigning
imbecility in order to escape plots to assassinate him, which were formed
in the interests of a rival claimant to the throne.
[58] Issue of Saturday, March 16, 1907.
[59] So the report on the “State of the Progress of the Reorganization of
the Finances of Korea, March, 1907.”
[60] _Administrative Reforms in Korea_, p. 18.
[61] A _cho_ is nearly 2½ acres.
[62] See _Administrative Reforms in Korea_, p. 19.
[63] _State of the Progress of the Reorganization of the Finances of
Korea, March, 1907_, p. 20.
[64] _Administrative Reforms in Korea_, p. 15.
[65] It should be noted in this connection that this appointment is
one of the very few which, like that of the Resident-General, proceed
directly from the Emperor of Japan himself.
[66] _Summary of the Financial Affairs of Korea_, p. 5.
[67] In interpreting this it should be remembered that the Japanese _sen_
is equal in value to one-half a cent in American gold, or about one
farthing in English currency. 100 _sen_ = 1 _yen_, and 1,000 _rin_ = 1
_yen_.
[68] “There had been,” says Mr. D. W. Stevens, “some criticism because
such a law was considered necessary; and Japanese legal procedure was
accused of being defective, on this account, by certain foreign critics.
But in the late seventies the British Court at Yokohama released a man
who had been detected counterfeiting Japanese money, on the ground that
there was no British law under which to punish him, and that Japanese law
against counterfeiting did not apply to British subjects in Japan. And
the highest British courts have held that a contract to smuggle goods
into a foreign country is a valid contract as between British subjects in
Great Britain.” The entire matter is dwelt upon at such length because
it illustrates so well the inability of the Koreans for “independent”
management of their own internal affairs, and also the animus and
propriety of much of the anti-Japanese criticism.
[69] The quotations are from the pamphlet, _Administrative Reforms in
Korea_, p. 11 _f._
[70] See _Summary of the Financial Affairs of Korea_, p. 5.
[71] See the incidents—which are of a sort to be almost indefinitely
multiplied—on page 285 _f._
[72] Dr. Allen, then American Consul-General, in a report upon
_Educational Institutions and Methods in Korea_, 1898.
[73] See _Administrative Reforms in Korea_, p. 4 _f._
[74] _Official Minutes of the Korean Mission Conference_, 1906, p. 41.
[75] _Korean Review_, of February, 1904.
[76] It is significant to notice in this connection that previous to
his several commissions from the Korean Emperor, this writer held a
quite different view from that which he afterward advocated with regard
to the underlying principle of all the recent relations between the
two countries. In the same article he says: “The present chaotic state
of the national finances and of popular discontent, show something
of what Russian influence has accomplished in Korea; and the people
are coming to realize the fact. They are passionately attached to the
theory of national ‘independence.’ We say _theory_ advisedly. This word
‘independence’ is a sort of fetich to which they bow, but they think that
independence means liberation from outside control alone, forgetting that
genuine independence means likewise a liberation from evil influences
within, and that liberty, so far from being _carte blanche_ to do as one
pleases, is in truth the apotheosis of law.”
[77] Among the many falsehoods told by the Koreans and their “Foreign
Friends,” in their endeavors to excite pity for themselves, and,
possibly, interference with the Japanese Administration in Korea,
none is more ridiculous than that the latter were reviving the use of
torture. It should be borne in mind that, previous to the Convention of
July, 1907, which followed upon the promulgation of this and other more
important false charges by the commissioners to The Hague Conference, the
Japanese Residency-General’s power did not extend to the interference
with the execution of the Korean law upon Korean criminals. Preliminary
examination by beating with a stick was then legal; according to credible
current report it was practiced upon the vice-Minister of Education,
when, during my visit to Korea, he was accused of having contributed
money toward effecting the assassination of the Ministry (see p. 51). All
this is quite different from the retort which might be made to critics
from the United States to remember the practice of “water-cure” in the
Philippines, etc.
[78] Quoted, as are the following paragraphs bearing quotation marks,
from the pamphlet prepared under the supervision of the Resident-General,
and published in Seoul, January, 1907, on _Administrative Reforms in
Korea_. [These quotations are made exactly, and without attempt to change
the language in accordance with our use of legal terms.]
[79] The following incident illustrates the habitual behavior of the
Korean _Daily News_, edited by Mr. Bethell, in both an English and a
native edition. Dr. Jones, one of the most faithful and useful of the
Missionary body in Korea, had previously incurred the bitter enmity of
this paper by publicly announcing (see p. 61 _f._) the intention to
assist the Resident-General in his plans, so far as his own work as a
missionary permitted, for the up-raising of Korea. At the time when the
Korean troops, in a wholly unprovoked way, fired upon the crowd in the
streets of Seoul, Dr. Jones published in the _Seoul Press_ an account
of what he himself saw. The account was not accompanied by any harsh
criticism of the conduct of the troops. But “shortly afterwards a Korean
attached to the vernacular paper visited him and, attacking him fiercely,
denounced him as an enemy of Korea. This was followed by a savage attack
in the Korean edition of the _News_, giving an entirely false account
of what Dr. Jones had done and said. It was in fact an invitation to
murder.” Dr. Jones at once appealed to the American Consul-General and he
to the British. The editor was forced to retract and apologize, but this
by no means compensated for the damage his article had done.
[80] This fact has been clearly proven by papers found on the body of
Yi-Sei-chik, when he was afterward arrested and detained at headquarters,
as well as by his personal statements.
[81] This serious charge was made by the writer and published to a
friendly nation, on the basis of no personal knowledge, not to say
careful investigation, and after casual conversation with a small number
of witnesses who belong to the class peculiarly liable to be deceived
both as to facts and as to causes of such alleged incidents.
[82] Deplorable, on account of its effect, direct and indirect, upon the
Koreans, upon Marquis Ito’s efforts at reform, and upon the missionary
cause in Japan as well as Korea.
[83] It has been asserted that the value of the land staked off by the
Japanese military authorities near Seoul was 6,000,000 _yen_. As the
result of a “painstaking and impartial investigation” it was found that,
at the highest market price, this land would not have brought more than
750,000 to 1,000,000 _yen_. The Korean way in such matters is well
illustrated by the experience of the Young Men’s Christian Association
in Seoul, who, when one small piece of land was needed to complete their
site, were obliged to invoke an official order preventing the sale to
any other party; and even then paid a price probably two or three times
its true market value. Compare also what is said, p. 98 _f._, about the
Pyeng-yang affair.
[84] What is the state of the case in certain portions of the West is
truthfully told in the following paragraph quoted from a popular journal:
“In the matter of cheating Indians and acquiring public lands in ways
which bear all the ethical aspects of theft, there is no public or
private morality either in Oklahoma or any other of those Western States
where Indians and public lands continue to exist.”
[85] On one occasion the British and Chinese Ministers jointly urged
the payment of indemnity in the case of two Chinamen, one a British
_protégé_, who had been injured in a fight with tax-collecting officials
at a place to which Chinese junks were in the habit of resorting. The
British _protégé_ had died of his wounds, both he and his companion
having been confined after the fight in the magistrate’s yamen.
The Korean local officials contended that only one person had been
killed—namely, the wounded Chinaman. When confronted with the fact that,
according to their own report, there was a dead Chinaman in the yamen
the morning after, they replied that this man was not in the fracas at
all; he had merely crawled into the yamen during the night, and had died
of some unknown disease. The picture of this shrewd Celestial going to
the yamen to die, apparently for the purpose of fraudulently foisting an
incriminating _corpus delicti_ upon the innocent Korean official, did not
appeal to the British Minister, and he got his indemnity.
[86] See “The Japanese in Korea,” Extracts from _The Korean Review_, p.
46 _f._
[87] _The Far East_ (London, T. Fisher Unwin, 1901), p. 337 _f._
[88] _Korea_ (Chas. Scribner’s Sons, 1904), pp. 128 _f._; 274 _f._
Perhaps the underlying reason for much of Mr. Hamilton’s rather
vituperative criticism of affairs in Korea may be found in Chapter XII,
where Japanese, American, and British merchants, and Lord Salisbury are
all severely taken to task because too much of Korea’s trade is falling
into other than English hands.
[89] According to the testimony of travellers in the interior of Korea,
it is extremely difficult to get any food, accommodation, or service,
even when desirous of paying the highest prices, on account of the
experience with their own travelling officials, who never expect to pay
for anything exacted from the country people.
[90] It furnished Mr. Hulbert and Mr. Bethell, however, with a striking
instance of the way in which the Japanese are robbing the Koreans.
[91] An occurrence, which might easily have become a much celebrated
instance of a Japanese attempt at robbery and oppression of the Koreans,
came to the writer’s notice in a private but entirely trustworthy way.
One of the ex-Emperor’s real foreign friends was sent for some time ago
and found His Majesty in a state of intense alarm and excitement over a
plot of the Residency-General which had just been made known to him. A
certain foreigner had authorized the story that the Japanese authorities
were trying to purchase three houses owned by a Chinese and situated just
opposite the Palace, with a view to tear them down and erect barracks
for the Japanese soldiers on the spot. The price offered by the Japanese
was 60,000 _yen_; but if His Majesty would furnish 65,000 _yen_, this
_friendly_ foreigner would buy the property for him, and so defeat the
nefarious project of the Japanese. The Emperor wished at once to borrow
the money. It was suggested, however, that His Majesty should allow
inquiry to be made before parting with so much of his privy purse.
Whereupon, the following conversation was held between the Chinese owner
and the person to whom the Emperor looked to procure for him the needed
sum:
“I understand the three houses you own are offered for sale.”
“Well, I do not particularly wish to sell them; but that Frenchman, Mr.
⸺, has been here and wanted to get them. He said he wished to put up a
large store in their place.”
“How much do you ask for the houses?”
“They are worth 13,000 _yen_; but if any one will take all three of them,
he may have them for 12,000 _yen_ in cash.”
“Is that so? I understood the Japanese wanted them to build barracks for
their soldiers on the land.”
“I have not heard anything about the Japanese wanting them; it was that
Frenchman who said he wanted them, to build a store there.”
The benevolent spirit of this enterprising foreign friend is revealed
more intimately when we learn that he threatened to shoot on the spot,
if he could only find out who he was, the man that had thwarted his plan
for this bit of real-estate speculation. The same intention was avowed by
the American miner against the foreign official of the Korean Government
whom he regarded as standing in the way of the success of the “Poong Poo”
Company (see p. 361 _f._).
[92] _Korea and Her Neighbors_, by Isabella Bird Bishop, p. 64.
[93] Quoted from an anonymous letter, signed “Foreigner,” and published
in the _Seoul Press_, date of August 6, 1907. The spirit of this passage
is characteristic of the entire letter, which was nearly a column long,
and which was, alas! written by a missionary.
[94] Editorial in the _Seoul Press_, August 8, 1907.
[95] In this connection it should be remembered that the Young
Men’s Christian Association in Seoul is heavily subsidized by the
Residency-General in recognition of its services for the good of the
Koreans; that Marquis Ito sent a message of welcome, accompanied by a
gift of 10,000 _yen_, to the “World’s Christian Student Federation” at
its meeting in April, 1907, in Tokyo; and that His Excellency has taken
all possible pains to assure the Christian missionaries in Korea of his
desire for their active co-operation, by use of the moral and spiritual
forces which they wield, with his plan to use the allied economic and
educational forces, for the betterment of the Korean nation.
[96] Letter to the _Japan Times_, published, Tokyo, May 9, 1907.
[97] See _Problems of the Far East_, by the Hon. George N. Curzon, M.P.
(1894), pp. 192-197.
[98] Compare the narratives of Part I, pp. 37-64; 90-111.
[99] “Abnormal,” _i. e._, from the point of view of what would be
expected from minds of a higher degree of culture and of self-control.
[100] With regard to the _personnel_ of the Korean members of this
commission, the head was Yi Sung-sol, who had formerly been a Cabinet
Councillor. With him were associated Yi Chun-yong, a Judge of the Supreme
Court, and Yi Wi-chong, who was at one time secretary to the Foreign
Legation at Russia. The two former seem to have taken the Siberian
route to St. Petersburg, where they arrived about April 20th, and were
met there by Yi Wi-chong. The Russian Government, being at that time
negotiating a treaty with Japan which was to recognize in most explicit
terms the Japanese Protectorate over Korea, and give to it a “free
hand” in the management of Korean affairs, naturally enough, gave no
encouragement to the Koreans or to their “foreign friend.”
In view of the large sum of money which, according to rumor at the time,
the Emperor contributed to this purpose, it seems scarcely credible that
the Korean delegates should feel compelled at The Hague “to stay at a
low-class hotel where the meals cost about 50 _sen_” (or 25 cents in
gold), as the cable despatch reports. No less a sum than 240,000 _yen_
was subsequently traced to expenditure upon this futile scheme; and
100,000 _yen_ additional was suspected on good grounds. In addition to
this, as the event proved, it cost the Emperor his crown.
[101] It should be understood that the proposal of Count Inouye did not
contemplate taking the Korean Emperor prisoner and carrying him off by
force to Japan. It expressed simply the belief on the Count’s part that
the shortest way of making Korea accept Japan’s guidance was to cause the
Emperor to become acquainted with Japan by personal observation.
[102] The mixture of ignorance and craft of which the ex-Emperor is
capable was illustrated in a humorous way by his inquiry of Marquis
Ito whether the Japanese Government would not undertake the arrest and
punishment of his own emissaries at The Hague! The reply was, of course,
that Japan could no more do such a thing in Holland than Korea in Japan.
[103] This double policy of soliciting advice and help from Marquis
Ito, as his most true and powerful friend, while acting contrary to the
advice when given and rendering the help difficult or impossible, has
characterized the Emperor throughout in his relations with the Marquis.
[104] It was subsequently reported that the number of Koreans injured
during the disturbances of this Friday was 210; since the majority of
these had bullet wounds and the Japanese police were not armed with
rifles, the conclusion is inevitable that most of these casualties were
occasioned by the firing upon the crowd of the mutinous Korean soldiers.
[105] These quotations are from the article, the publication of which was
followed by the incident already narrated (p. 355, _note_). This example
is typical of the temper and methods of the anti-Japanese leaders and
their foreign friends.
[106] This is perhaps the place to deny, authoritatively and finally,
that Marquis Ito procured, counselled, or even gave consent to, the act
of abdication. Indeed, the members of the Residency-General, and the
Japanese in Seoul generally, who approved of the more strenuous measures
to be taken against Korea, regretted to have the abdication take place.
To use the expression of one of them: “It dulled the edge of the Japanese
sword.”
[107] It should be understood that this office is the most important and
influential of all the Korean offices, so far as private transactions
with the Emperor are concerned. Now Pak Yong-hio, after a life of
idleness and debauchery in Japan, whither he had fled some years
before, and where he had been supported by the kindness of Japanese and
Korean friends, had recently been pardoned and allowed to return to
Korea. In petitioning for permission to return, Pak dwelt in pathetic
terms on his “home-sickness,” and expressly promised in the future to
refrain from political intrigue. But he had scarcely set foot on the
soil of Korea before he began a most dishonest and disgraceful course
of political intrigue. A little more than twenty-four hours after his
pseudo-appointment as Minister of the Imperial Household, the Cabinet
Ministers ordered his arrest, and he was subsequently condemned to be
punished with eighty lashes and banished for life to the Island of
Quelpart. Such are the vicissitudes of Korean political careers when most
free from foreign influence!
[108] For the text of this new Convention, which is remarkable at once
for its brevity and its comprehensive indefiniteness, the reader is
referred to Appendix C. In view of the claims that the Convention of 1905
could not have been consented to by the Emperor because it does not bear
his signature, or that it did not have the consent of the Ministers,
because they did not all sign it, attention is called to the fact that
the new Convention is signed only by Marquis Ito and the Korean Prime
Minister.
[109] One of the leaders of the riot of July 19th confessed that he
was betrayed into his action by the false report of the _Taihan Mai-il
Shimpo_ (or Korean edition of the Korean _Daily News_—Mr. Bethell’s
paper), that the Emperor would be forced to go to Japan to apologize for
The Hague incident. On reading the Japanese-Korean Convention, however,
he was surprised at the moderation of Japan, and considered himself a
fool for being deceived by the paper. This is only one of innumerable
instances illustrating the truth that the English editor of this paper,
and his American coadjutor have, of late, probably done more mischief to
the Korean nation than any other persons except the Emperor and his small
coterie of corrupt Court officials.
[110] The word thus translated, however, means “paid” troops rather than
volunteers.
[111] How dangerous is prophecy touching the future of the Far East is
well illustrated by the following passage quoted from Mr. Whigham’s
generally calm and fair book on _Manchuria and Korea_, p. 49. Speaking
of the mistake which Japan made in not preventing Russia from building
the Manchurian Railway, Mr. Whigham says: “On the other hand, one is more
and more convinced that what used to be talked about a short time ago as
the inevitable war between Russia and Japan is destined to end in smoke,
since the Japanese have already lost their great opportunity.” This was
written as of July, 1901. Less than three years later “the inevitable
war” began in the “smoke” of battle, and ended with Japan in possession
of this same Manchurian Railway.
INDEX
Agriculture, state of, 92 _f._, 122 _f._, 127 _f._, 301 _f._, 303,
304 _f._;
founding Station and School of, 122 _f._, 126, 302
Alexeieff, M. Kir, doings of, in Korea, 224 _f._
Allen, H. N. (Acting Minister), on education in Korea, 327
An Chung-ho, 107
Bell, the Great, at Seoul, 26, 31 _f._, 179 _f._
Bethell, Mr., Editor _Korean Daily News_, 158
Bingham, Minister, 197 _f._
Bishop, Mrs., quoted, 390
Brinkley, quoted, 184, 192, 193
Brown, Mr. J. McLeavy, Director of Customs, 224 _f._, 360
Buddha, “The Great White,” 137 _f._
Buddhism, condition of, in Korea, 133 _f._, 137
_Bunki_, nature of, 342 _f._
Chemulpo, visit to, 113 _f._;
population of, 114;
appearance of, 114 _f._;
harbor of, 115
China, influence of, on Korea, 181 _f._, 190, 194, 202 _f._, 253, 296;
its claims of suzerainty, 189 _f._, 191 _f._, 194, 196 _f._, 199,
203, 211 _f._, 216 _f._;
soldiers of, in Korea, 203 _f._, 205 _f._, 214;
war with, 214 _f._;
present condition of, 444 _f._
Cockburn, Mr., British Consul-General, 131 _f._, 134 _f._
Confucianism, of Korea, characterized, 181 _f._, 296
Conventions (_see_ also Treaties), with China, 210 _f._;
Yamagata-Lobanoff, 224 _f._;
of Nov., 1904, with Korea, 252-279, 414;
of July, 1907, 419, 431 _f._, 433;
disorder following, 434 _f._
Councillor, in Privy Council, new office created, 82
Court, the Korean, corruptions of, 151 _f._, 297, 452;
cowardice of, 182 _f._;
“Purification” of, 297, 452 _f._
Crown Prince (now Emperor), 298 _note_
Curzon, Hon. George N., quoted, 402
_Daily News_, the Korean, 42, 52, 62 _f._;
announces commission to The Hague, 83 _f._;
attacks Dr. Jones, 355
Education, condition of, in Korea, 325-339;
earlier efforts at reform of, 327 _f._;
modern organization of, 330 _f._, 335 _f._;
missionary work in, 332 _f._;
attitude of Koreans toward, 334;
interest of Japan in, 336
Ellis, Mr. Wm. T., 367
Emperor, of Korea (now ex-Emperor), audience with, 44 _f._, 147 _f._;
personal appearance of, 44 _f._;
message to, 148 _f._;
character of, 151 _f._, 154 _f._, 158, 175 _f._, 235 _f._, 282
_f._, 286 _f._;
renounces suzerainty of China, 216 _f._;
flees to Russian Legation, 220;
subsequent behavior, 233 _f._;
treachery of, 242, 244, 246, 298, 361, 415, 428 _f._;
receives letter from Emperor of Japan, 254;
his part in Convention of 1904, 256 _f._, 259 _f._, 268 _f._, 274
_f._, 415 _f._;
abdication of, 423, 428
Epworth League, fate of, in Korea, 38
Eui Wha, Prince, 17, 75 _f._
Foulk, Ensign George C., report of, to United States, 200 _f._, 203,
204 _f._;
quoted, 376
Fusan, town of, 15 _f._, 140 _f._, 142;
public park in, 15, 142;
reception at, 16 _f._, 140 _f._, 143;
lectures at, 142;
schools of, 142;
revolt of settlers in, 185
Gale, Dr., quoted, 378
_General Sherman_, the visit of the, to Korea, 191
Hague, Peace Conference of, Korean Commissioners to, 83 _f._, 298,
414, 416;
Japanese press concerning, 418 _f._;
action of Tokyo Government, 419
_Hai-tai_, the, 28
Hall, of “Audience,” 29;
of “Congratulations,” 30
Hamilton, Angus, quoted, 377
Han, Korean Prime Minister in 1904, 263 _f._, 266 _note_, 267
Hanyang, town of, predecessor to Seoul, 22, 32
Harris, Bishop M. C., quoted, 397
Hay, Secretary, efforts of, 236 _f._
Hayashi, Minister in Korea, 260, 263, 269;
special Ambassador to Korea, 419 _f._, 421 _f._
Hershey, quoted, 219 _f._, 223 _f._
Hideyoshi, the invasion of, 15 _f._, 25, 90 _f._, 183 _f._, 187 _f._;
war with Prince Mori, 145
Hiro-Mura, trip to, 6 _f._
Hulbert, Mr. Homer B., leaves Seoul, 83 _f._;
on Korean history, 182;
quoted, 183, 236, 289, 290, 291, 293, 295, 336;
charges of, examined, 375
Ichihara, Mr., President of “Economies Club,” 55 _f._
Il Chin-hoi (Society), memorial of, to Ministers, 76 _f._;
to Residency-General, 430 _f._
Independence Arch, 43, 132
Independence Hall, 43;
lecture at, 52
Industrial Training School, founded at Seoul, 128 _f._
Inouye, Count, negotiates treaty with Korea, 107 _f._;
later visit of, as ambassador, 205 _f._;
administration in Korea, 218 _f._;
views on Commission to The Hague, 417 _f._
Ito, Prince Hirobumi, invitation of, 3 _f._, 8 _f._, 14, 37 _f._, 40
_f._, 56;
attitude of, toward Korea, 8 _f._, 55 _f._, 64, 139, 157, 164 _f._,
169 _f._, 226, 395 _f._;
work of, in Korea, 86 _f._, 168 _f._, 173 _f._, 253 _f._, 287 _f._,
298, 301 _f._, 330 _f._, 341 _f._, 355 _f._, 412;
negotiates treaty with China, 194 _f._, 210 _f._;
speech of (1898), 226 _f._;
visits Peking, 231;
and St. Petersburg, 232;
negotiates Conventions with Korea, 252 _f._, 256, 260 _f._;
in Convention of 1907, 421, 424, 432 _f._;
enlarged plans of, 441;
visits Tokyo, Aug., 1907, 442
Iyeyasu, treatment of Korea by, 189 _f._
Japanese, characteristics of, 1 _f._, 55, 121 _f._, 183, 431 _f._,
454, 457;
invasion by, 15 _f._, 25, 183 _f._;
settlements of, in Korea, 15 _f._, 19, 114, 143 _f._, 450 _f._;
as an audience, 55, 97;
relations of, to Koreans, 55 _f._, 59 _f._, 91, 109 _f._, 119 _f._,
150 _f._, 171 _f._, 202 _f._, 368 _f._, 393 _f._, 458;
ladies in Seoul, 57 _f._
_Japan Times_, quoted, 418 _f._
Jones, Dr. G. Heber, quoted, 22, 23, 27, 89, 168 _f._, 179, 425;
assistance by, in work, 48, 49, 52 _f._, 59, 113 _f._;
interview of, with Marquis Ito, 63 _f._;
attack upon, 355 _note_
Justice, the Public, previous condition of, 340 _f._, 343, 345, 347
_f._, 369;
use of torture, 340 _f._, 375 _f._;
attempts at reform of, 341 _f._, 343 _f._, 349 _f._;
police system, 345 _f._;
courts of, 347 _f._
Kabayama, Admiral, visits Korea, 205 _f._
Kang, chief Eunuch, 154
Kenochi, Mr., Resident at Chemulpo, 117
Kikuchi, Mr., Resident at Pyeng-yang, 100
Kimmei, Korean envoy to, 186
Kim Ok-kiun, 31;
murder of, 213
Kim Tuk-nyung, Korean general, 183
Korea, country of, 19 _f._, 92 _f._, 113 _f._, 301;
hunting tigers in, 120 _f._;
historical relations of, to Japan, 179-251;
reasons for its degradation, 180 _f._;
treaty of 1876 with, 182;
trade relations with Japan, 185 _f._, 356;
control of, by Japan, 242 _f._, 452 _f._;
resources of, 300 _f._, 303 _f._, 310 _f._, 322 _f._;
reforestation of, 306 _f._, 308 _f._;
mines of, 309 _f._, 361 _f._;
customs of, 313 _f._, 324 _f._;
finances of, 315 _f._, 318 _f._, 320 _f._, 356 _f._;
debt of, 324;
foreign trade of, 356 _f._
Koreans, the condition of, 8 _f._, 60, 158 _f._, 160 _f._, 180 _f._;
characteristics of, 86 _f._, 105 _f._, 120, 129, 162 _f._, 180
_f._, 289 _f._, 295 _f._, 428 _f._;
independence of, 8 _f._, 169, 174 _f._, 216 _f._, 296 _f._, 336
_note_;
intrigues of, 8, 10 _f._, 66, 68 _f._, 85 _f._, 105, 171 _f._, 201
_f._, 218 _f._, 371 _f._;
appearance of, 18, 47 _f._, 292, 294;
superstitions of, 23 _f._, 131, 293 _f._, 391;
burial places of, 23 _f._, 132 _f._;
as an audience, 47 _f._, 51 _f._;
women, 57 _f._, 86 _f._, 294;
murder Japanese, 202, 206 _f._, 399, 425;
as workmen, 292 _f._;
emigration of, 364 _f._;
religious condition of, 390 _f._, 392 _f._
_Korean Review_, quoted, 315, 327, 328 _f._
Kublai Khan, Embassy of, 187
Kuroda, General, makes treaty with Korea, 182, 197 _f._
Kuruda, Mr., villa of, 141 _f._
Kwon, Minister of War, attempted assassination of, 66 _f._, 70 _f._;
address of, at Suwon, 127
Lady Om, address at school of, 54 _f._, 155
Lawrence, Prof., on Convention of Feb., 1904, 247 _f._
Laws, absence of code of, 341 _f._;
affecting real estate, 342 _f._;
and mines, 362 _f._
Li Hung Chang, 13;
negotiates treaty with Japan, 209
Manchurian Question, the, 229-233, 236
Megata, Mr., appointed “Financial Adviser,” 246 _f._, 315;
work of, 246 _f._, 301, 308, 315 _f._, 318 _f._, 320 _f._, 355
Min, the Family, 200, 201 _f._, 203 _f._
Min Hyung-sik, Vice-Minister of Education, 51, 72, 74
Min Yung-whong, commits suicide, 278 _f._
Ministry, the Korean, change in _personnel_, 76 _f._;
and character of office, 80 _f._, 246, 252;
position of, in Russian Legation, 222 _f._;
behavior of, in 1907, 420, 421
Missions, success of, in Korea, 61, 93 _f._, 404 _f._, 408 _f._, 441;
founding of, 116, 401, 403, 404 _f._;
schools of, 332 _f._;
differing views as to, 388 _f._, 400;
need of civil support, 394 _f._, 412;
work of woman in, 400 _f._;
persecution of, by Koreans, 401, 402;
the Roman Catholic, 403 _f._;
the Protestant, 404 _f._;
“Great Revival” among the, 408 _f._, 410 _f._
Missionaries, attitude of, 58 _f._, 60, 166 _f._, 396 _f._, 398;
complaints of, 62 _f._, 368;
educational work of, 332 _f._;
difficulties of, 392 _f._, 401 _f._;
martyrs among, 401 _f._
Mollendorff, M. von, action of, in Korea, 207 _f._
Mongols, invasions of, 184 _f._
Moore, _Digest of International Law_, quoted, 211 _f._
Nagasaki, visit to, 12 _f._
Nam-san, view from, 23, 40;
wild-cats on, 39 _f._
Noble, Dr., 93, 102, 106, 110
Norman, Henry, quoted, 377
Pagoda, the Marble, 32 _f._;
the “Pagoda Incident,” 384
Pak, Acting Prime Minister, attempted assassination of, 66;
resigns, 77;
action as Minister of Foreign Affairs, 264, 268 _f._
Pak Yong-hio, conduct of, 428 _f._
Pak Yong-hwa, assassination of, 68
Palaces, the “Special South,” 27;
the “Mulberry,” 27 _f._, 287;
the “Palace of Beautiful Blessing,” 28 _f._;
East Palace, 30 _f._;
the present residence, described, 44 _f._, 153 _f._
Pavloff, M., Minister to Korea, 227 _f._, 237 _f._
“Peony Point,” visit to, 100 _f._
_Po-an_, Secret Society, suppressed, 244
Prince, the “little” (Son of Lady Om), appearance of, 44 _f._;
made Crown Prince, 441
Protectorate, the Japanese, effect of, on business, 118 _f._, 352
_f._;
Protocols establishing, 245 _f._, 248, 253, 433;
Prof. Lawrence on, 247 _f._;
as arranged in Nov., 1904, 253 _f._, 264 _f._, 272 _f._;
false reports concerning, 253 _note_ _f._, 378 _f._;
as affecting foreign relations, 352 _f._, 354 _f._;
extended to home affairs, 433 _f._;
prospects of, 446 _f._
Protocols, with Russia (1896), 224;
Nishi-Rosen (1898), 225;
with Korea (Feb., 1904), 245 _f._, 255, 273;
and (Aug., 1904), 245 _f._, 248, 255, 273
Puk Han, as mountain fortress, 22, 133;
excursion to, 131 _f._;
walls of, 133, 135 _f._;
flora of, 134
Pyeng-yang, invitation to, 43 _f._;
history of, 90 _f._, 100 _f._;
Japanese in, 91, 97 _f._, 383 _f._;
visit to, 90 _f._, 110;
missions in, 63 _f._, 107 _f._, 110;
audiences in, 93 _f._, 96 _f._, 107;
improvements in, 98 _f._, 101;
theological students of, 102 _f._, 104, 107 _f._;
Governor of, 103 _f._;
stud-farm at, 383 _f._
Queen, the late, her assassination, 30, 219 _f._;
character of, 283 _f._
Railways, Fusan-Seoul, 16 _f._, 139 _f._;
Seoul-Pyeng-yang, 92;
Seoul-Electric, 230 _f._;
the Sanyo, 246;
construction of, in Korea, 373 _f._, 379 _f._
Resident-General (_see_ also Ito), interests of, 8 _f._, 122 _f._,
129 _f._, 169 _f._, 175 _f._;
social influence of, 86 _f._;
creation of office of, 270 _f._;
scope of present power of, 452 _f._
Reynolds, Rev. Mr., skill as linguist, 48 _f._
Rockhill, Minister, on China’s suzerainty over Korea, 198 _f._;
on the Manchurian Question, 236
Root, Secretary, recognizes Japanese Protectorate, 249
Russia, Treaty of, with Japan, 9 _f._;
domination of, in Korea, 221 _f._, 227 _f._, 230 _f._, 236 _f._;
negotiations with, 239 _f._
Saga Party, the, 193 _f._
Saionji, Marquis, Ambassador to Korea, 216
Schools, in Korea, 17 _f._, 142, 325, 330, 332, 335
Scranton, Dr. W. B., 63, 404
Seoul, arrived at, 19 _f._;
aspects of, 20 _f._, 23, 34 _f._, 130;
meaning of word, 22;
walls of, 24 _f._;
gates of, 25 _f._;
palaces of, 27 _f._;
lectures at, 43 _f._, 54 _f._;
foreigners in, 85 _f._;
influence as capital city, 88 _f._;
departure from, 139 _f._
_Seoul Press_, the, quoted, 66 _f._, 70 _f._, 99 _f._, 122 _f._, 160
_f._, 301 _f._, 415
Shimonoseki, Treaty of, 13
Sill, American Minister, report of, 214 _f._
_Son-o-gong_, 26
Sontag, Miss, 20
Speyer, M. de, policy of, 225
Stevens, Hon. D. W., 140, 205 _f._;
on Korean complaints, 171 _f._;
his account of Count Inouye’s Embassy, 205-209;
on outbreak of war, 243;
appointed “Adviser” on Foreign Affairs, 246;
quoted, 269, 315, 342, 353, 370, 376
Suwon, Agricultural Station and School at, 122 _f._, 126 _f._;
excursion to, 126 _f._
Tablet, the Tortoise, 33
Tai Won Kun, the quarrels of, with Queen, 26, 201 _f._, 218, 219
_f._, 284;
builds palace, 28, 306;
character of, 282 _f._, 401, 402;
persecutes Christians, 400, 401 _f._
Takezoye, Minister at Korea, 405 _f._
Tokugawa, Prince, his visit to Korea, 75 _f._, 88
Tokugawas, the, their treatment of Korea, 189 _f._
Tong Hak, rebellion of, 213 _f._, 216 _f._
Townsend, Mr. W. D., 116, 118 _f._
Treaties (_see_ also Conventions), with Japan, in 1876, 182, 197 _f._;
the Shufeldt, 192;
Japan and China, 210 _f._
Tsushima, relations of, to Korea, 15, 185
United States, relations of, to Korea, 191 _f._, 197 _f._, 199, 211
_f._, 216, 236, 249;
_Foreign Relations_ (Reports), quoted, 216, 249;
recognizes Japanese Protectorate, 249 _f._
Waeber, M., Russian Minister in Korea, 223
Wakayama, visit to, 8 _f._
Walls, of Seoul, 24 _f._;
of Puk Han, 133, 135
Whigham, quoted, 245, 296, 445 _note_
Wilkinson, _The Government of Korea_, quoted, 212 _f._
Yagi, Capt., 1 _f._
_Yang-ban_, the Korean, 39, 74, 156;
baleful influence of, 112 _f._, 156 _f._, 287 _f._;
character of certain, described, 288 _f._, 291
Yi, Korean admiral, 183, 189
Yi Hy-eung (_see_ Emperor, now ex-Emperor)
Yi Wan-yong, appointed Prime Minister, 77 _f._;
action of, in Nov., 1904, 264 _f._;
signs Convention of 1907, 432
Yi Yong-ik, Emperor’s favorite, 235, 243, 286
Yi Yong-tai, 70, 73, 74
_Yomiuri_, Japanese paper, extract from, 167 _f._
Young Men’s Christian Association, invitation from, 38 _f._, 42;
assistance of, 42 _f._, 53, 407;
lectures at, 43 _f._, 47 _f._, 54 _f._;
Korean helpers of, 50 _f._, 83 _f._;
subsidy to, 396;
success of, 407
Yuan Shi Kai, doings in Korea, 31, 210 _f._, 212
Yun Chi-ho, Mr., 39
Zumoto, Mr., 13, 92, 113
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