Chapter III: Part 3

Japan was now in a position to enforce obedience. Russia could no longer interfere; England would not. A new treaty between Japan and Korea, drawn up in advance, was signed--the Emperor being ordered to assent without hesitation or alteration--and Japan began her work as the open protector of Korea. The Korean Government was to place full confidence in Japan and follow her lead; while Japan pledged herself "in a spirit of firm friendship, to secure the safety and repose" of the Imperial Korean House, and definitely guaranteed the independence and territorial integrity of the country. Japan was to be given every facility for military operations during the war.

The Japanese at first behaved with great moderation. Officials who had been hostile to them were not only left unpunished, but were, some of them, employed in the Japanese service. The troops marching northwards maintained rigid discipline and treated the people well. Food that was taken was purchased at fair prices, and the thousands of labourers who were pressed into the army service as carriers were rewarded with a liberality and promptitude that left them surprised. Mr. Hayashi did everything that he could to reassure the Korean Emperor, and repeatedly told him that Japan desired nothing but the good of Korea and the strengthening of the Korean nation. The Marquis Ito was soon afterwards sent on a special mission from the Mikado, and he repeated and emphasized the declarations of friendship and help.

All this was not without effect upon the Korean mind. The people of the north had learnt to dislike the Russians, because of their lack of discipline and want of restraint. They had been alienated in particular by occasional interference with Korean women by the Russian soldiers. I travelled largely throughout the northern regions in the early days of the war, and everywhere I heard from the people during the first few weeks nothing but expressions of friendship to the Japanese. The coolies and farmers were friendly because they hoped that Japan would modify the oppression of the native magistrates. A section of better-class people, especially those who had received some foreign training, were sympathetic, because they credited Japan's promises and had been convinced by old experience that no far-reaching reforms could come to their land without foreign aid.

As victory followed victory, however, the attitude of the Japanese grew less kindly. A large number of petty tradesmen followed the army, and these showed none of the restraint of the military. They travelled about, sword in hand, taking what they wished and doing as they pleased. Then the army cut down the rate of pay for coolies, and, from being overpaid, the native labourers were forced to toil for half their ordinary earnings. The military, too, gradually began to acquire a more domineering air.

In Seoul itself a definite line of policy was being pursued. The Korean Government had employed a number of foreign advisers. These were steadily eliminated; some of them were paid up for the full time of their engagements and sent off, and others were told that their agreements would not be renewed. Numerous Japanese advisers were brought in, and, step by step, the administration was Japanized. This process was hastened by a supplementary agreement concluded in August, when the Korean Emperor practically handed the control of administrative functions over to the Japanese. He agreed to engage a Japanese financial adviser, to reform the currency, to reduce his army, to adopt Japanese military and educational methods, and eventually to trust the foreign relations to Japan. One of the first results of this new agreement was that Mr. (now Baron) Megata was given control of the Korean finances. He quickly brought extensive and, on the whole, admirable changes into the currency. Under the old methods, Korean money was among the worst in the world. The famous gibe of a British Consul in an official report, that the Korean coins might be divided into good, good counterfeits, bad counterfeits, and counterfeits so bad that they can only be passed off in the dark, was by no means an effort of imagination. In the days before the war it was necessary, when one received any sum of money, to employ an expert to count over the coins, and put aside the worst counterfeits. The old nickels were so cumbersome that a very few pounds' worth of them formed a heavy load for a pony. Mr. Megata changed all this, and put the currency on a sound basis, naturally not without some temporary trouble, but certainly with permanent benefit to the country.

The next great step in the Japanese advance was the acquirement of the entire Korean postal and telegraph system. This was taken over, despite Korean protests. More and more Japanese gendarmes were brought in and established themselves everywhere. They started to control all political activity. Men who protested against Japanese action were arrested and imprisoned, or driven abroad. A notorious pro-Japanese society, the II Chin Hoi, was fostered by every possible means, members receiving for a time direct payments through Japanese sources. The payment at one period was 50 sen (1s.) a day. Notices were posted in Seoul that no one could organize a political society unless the Japanese headquarters consented, and no one could hold a meeting for discussing affairs without permission, and without having it guarded by Japanese police. All letters and circulars issued by political societies were first to be submitted to the headquarters. Those who offended made themselves punishable by martial law.

Gradually the hand of Japan became heavier and heavier. Little aggravating changes were made. The Japanese military authorities decreed that Japanese time should be used for all public work, and they changed the names of the towns from Korean to Japanese. Martial law was now enforced with the utmost rigidity. Scores of thousands of Japanese coolies poured into the country, and spread abroad, acting in a most oppressive way. These coolies, who had been kept strictly under discipline in their own land, here found themselves masters of a weaker people. The Korean magistrates could not punish them, and the few Japanese residents, scattered in the provinces, would not. The coolies were poor, uneducated, strong, and with the inherited brutal traditions of generations of their ancestors who had looked upon force and strength as supreme right. They went through the country like a plague. If they wanted a thing they took it If they fancied a house, they turned the resident out.

They beat, they outraged, they murdered in a way and on a scale of which it is difficult for any white man to speak with moderation. Koreans were flogged to death for offences that did not deserve a sixpenny fine. They were shot for mere awkwardness. Men were dispossessed of their homes by every form of guile and trickery. It was my lot to hear from Koreans themselves and from white men living in the districts, hundreds upon hundreds of incidents of this time, all to the same effect. The outrages were allowed to pass unpunished and unheeded. The Korean who approached the office of a Japanese resident to complain was thrown out, as a rule, by the underlings.

One act on the part of the Japanese surprised most of those who knew them best. In Japan itself opium-smoking is prohibited under the heaviest penalties, and elaborate precautions are taken to shut opium in any of its forms out of the country. Strict anti-opium laws were also enforced in Korea under the old administration. The Japanese, however, now permitted numbers of their people to travel through the interior of Korea selling morphia to the natives. In the northwest in particular this caused quite a wave of morphia-mania.

The Japanese had evidently set themselves to acquire possession of as much Korean land as possible. The military authorities staked out large portions of the finest sites in the country, the river-lands near Seoul, the lands around Pyeng-yang, great districts to the north, and fine strips all along the railway. Hundreds of thousands of acres were thus acquired. A nominal sum was paid as compensation to the Korean Government--a sum that did not amount to one-twentieth part of the real value of the land. The people who were turned out received, in many cases, nothing at all, and, in others, one-tenth to one-twentieth of the fair value. The land was seized by the military, nominally for purposes of war. Within a few months large parts of it were being resold to Japanese builders and shopkeepers, and Japanese settlements were growing up on them. This theft of land beggared thousands of formerly prosperous people.

The Japanese Minister pushed forward, in the early days of the war, a scheme of land appropriation that would have handed two-thirds of Korea over at a blow to a Japanese concessionaire, a Mr. Nagamori, had it gone through. Under this proposal all the waste lands of Korea, which included all unworked mineral lands, were to be given to Mr. Nagamori nominally for fifty years, but really on a perpetual lease, without any payment or compensation, and with freedom from taxation for some time. Mr. Nagamori was simply a cloak for the Japanese Government in this matter. The comprehensive nature of the request stirred even the foreign representatives in Seoul to action. For the moment the Japanese had to abandon the scheme. The same scheme under another name was carried out later when the Japanese obtained fuller control.

It may be asked why the Korean people did not make vigorous protests against the appropriation of their land. They did all they could, as can be seen by the "Five Rivers" case. One part of the Japanese policy was to force loans upon the Korean Government. On one occasion it was proposed that Japan should lend Korea 2,000,000 yen. The residents in a prosperous district near Seoul, the "Five Rivers," informed the Emperor that if he wanted money, they would raise it and so save them the necessity of borrowing from foreigners. Soon afterwards these people were all served with notice to quit, as their land was wanted by the Japanese military authorities. The district contained, it was said, about 15,000 houses. The inhabitants protested and a large number of them went to Seoul, demanding to see the Minister for Home Affairs. They were met by a Japanese policeman, who was soon reënforced by about twenty others, who refused to allow them to pass. A free fight followed. Many of the Koreans were wounded, some of them severely, and finally, in spite of stubborn resistance, they were driven back. Later, a mixed force of Japanese police and soldiers went down to their district and drove them from their villages.

The Japanese brought over among their many advisers, one foreigner--an American, Mr. Stevens--who had for some time served in the Japanese Foreign Office. Mr. Stevens was nominally in the employment of the Korean Government, but really he was a more thoroughgoing servant of Japan than many Japanese themselves. Two foreigners, whose positions seemed fairly established, were greatly in the way of the new rulers. One was Dr. Allen, the American Minister at Seoul. Dr. Allen had shown himself to be an independent and impartial representative of his country. He was friendly to the Japanese, but did not think it necessary to shut his eyes to the darker sides of their administration. This led to his downfall. He took opportunity, on one or two occasions, to tell his Government some unpalatable truths. The Japanese came to know it. They suggested indirectly that he was not _persona grata_ to them. He was summarily and somewhat discourteously recalled, his successor, Mr. E.V. Morgan, arriving at Seoul with authorization to replace him. The next victim was Mr. McLeavy Brown, the Chief Commissioner of Customs. Mr. Brown had done his utmost to work with the Japanese, but there were conflicts of authority between him and Mr. Megata. Negotiations were entered into with the British authorities, and Mr. Brown had to go. He was too loyal and self-sacrificing to dispute the ruling, and submitted in silence.

As the summer of 1905 drew to a close it became more and more clear that the Japanese Government, despite its many promises to the contrary, intended completely to destroy the independence of Korea. Even the Court officials were at last seriously alarmed, and set about devising means to protect themselves. The Emperor had thought that because Korean independence was provided for in various treaties with Great Powers, therefore he was safe. He had yet to learn that treaty rights, unbacked by power, are worth little more than the paper upon which they are written.

The Emperor trusted in particular to the clause in the Treaty with the United States in 1882 that if other Powers dealt unjustly or oppressively with Korea, America would exert her good offices to bring about an amicable arrangement In vain did the American Minister, his old friend Dr. Allen--who had not yet gone--try to disillusion him.

Early in November the Marquis Ito arrived in Seoul on another visit, this time as Special Envoy from the Emperor of Japan. He brought with him a letter from the Mikado, saying that he hoped the Korean Emperor would follow the directions of the Marquis, and come to an agreement with him, for it was essential for the maintenance of peace in the Far East that he should do so.

Marquis Ito was received in formal audience on November 15th, and there presented a series of demands, drawn up in treaty form. These were, in the main, that the foreign relations of Korea should be placed entirely in the hands of Japan, the Korean diplomatic service brought to an end, and the Ministers recalled from foreign Courts. The Japanese Minister to Korea was to became supreme administrator of the country under the Emperor, and the Japanese Consuls in the different districts were to be made Residents, with the powers of supreme local governors. In other words, Korea was entirely to surrender her independence as a State, and was to hand over control of her internal administration to the Japanese. The Emperor met the request with a blank refusal. The conversation between the two, as reported at the time, was as follows.

The Emperor said--

"Although I have seen in the newspapers various rumours that
Japan proposed to assume a protectorate over Korea, I did not
believe them, as I placed faith in Japan's adherence to the
promise to maintain the independence of Korea which was made by
the Emperor of Japan at the beginning of the war and embodied in
a treaty between Korea and Japan. When I heard you were coming to
my country I was glad, as I believed your mission was to increase
the friendship between our countries, and your demands have
therefore taken me entirely by surprise."

To which Marquis Ito rejoined--

"These demands are not my own; I am only acting in accordance
with a mandate from my Government, and if Your Majesty will agree
to the demands which T have presented it will be to the benefit
of both nations and peace in the East will be assured for ever.
Please, therefore, consent quickly."

The Emperor replied--

"From time immemorial it has been the custom of the rulers of
Korea, when confronted with questions so momentous as this, to
come to no decision until all the Ministers, high and low, who
hold or have held office, have been consulted, and the opinion of
the scholars and the common people have been obtained, so that I
cannot now settle this matter myself."

Said Marquis Ito again--

"Protests from the people can easily be disposed of, and for the
sake of the friendship between the two countries Your Majesty
should come to a decision at once."

To this the Emperor replied--

"Assent to your proposal would mean the ruin of my country, and I
will therefore sooner die than agree to it."

The conference lasted nearly five hours, and then the Marquis had to leave, having accomplished nothing. He at once tackled the members of the Cabinet, individually and collectively. They were all summoned to the Japanese Legation on the following day, and a furious debate began, starting at three o'clock in the afternoon, and lasting till late at night. The Ministers had sworn to one another beforehand that they would not yield. In spite of threats, cajoleries, and proffered bribes, they remained steadfast The arguments used by Marquis Ito and Mr. Hayashi, apart from personal ones, were twofold. The first was that it was essential for the peace of the Far East that Japan and Korea should be united. The second appealed to racial ambition. The Japanese painted to the Koreans a picture of a great united East, with the Mongol nations all standing firm and as one against the white man, who would reduce them to submission if he could.[1] The Japanese were determined to give the Cabinet no time to regather its strength. On the 17th of November, another conference began at two in the afternoon at the Legation, but equally without result. Mr. Hayashi then advised the Ministers to go to the palace and open a Cabinet Meeting in the presence of the Emperor. This was done, the Japanese joining in.

[Footnote 1: As it may be questioned whether the Japanese would use such arguments, I may say that the account of the interview was given to me by one of the participating Korean Ministers, and that he dealt at great length with the pro-Asian policy suggested there. I asked him why he had not listened and accepted. He replied that he knew what such arguments meant. The unity of Asia when spoken of by Japanese meant the supreme autocracy of their country.]

All this time the Japanese Army had been making a great display of military force around the palace. All the Japanese troops in the district had been for days parading the streets and open places fronting the Imperial residence. The field-guns were out, and the men were fully armed. They marched, countermarched, stormed, made feint attacks, occupied the gates, put their guns in position, and did everything, short of actual violence, that they could to demonstrate to the Koreans that they were able to enforce their demands. To the Cabinet Ministers themselves, and to the Emperor, all this display had a sinister and terrible meaning. They could not forget the night in 1895, when the Japanese soldiers had paraded around another palace, and when their picked bullies had forced their way inside and murdered the Queen. Japan had done this before; why should she not do it again? Not one of those now resisting the will of Dai Nippon but saw the sword in front of his eyes, and heard in imagination a hundred times during the day the rattle of the Japanese bullets.

That evening Japanese soldiers, with fixed bayonets, entered the courtyard of the palace and stood near the apartment of the Emperor. Marquis Ito now arrived, accompanied by General Hasegawa, Commander of the Japanese Army in Korea, and a fresh attack was started on the Cabinet Ministers. The Marquis demanded an audience of the Emperor. The Emperor refused to grant it, saying that his throat was very bad, and he was in great pain. The Marquis then made his way into the Emperor's presence, and personally requested an audience. The Emperor still refused. "Please go away and discuss the matter, with the Cabinet Ministers," he said.

Thereupon Marquis Ito went outside to the Ministers. "Your Emperor has commanded you to confer with me and settle this matter," he declared. A fresh conference was opened. The presence of the soldiers, the gleaming of the bayonets outside, the harsh words of command that could be heard through the windows of the palace buildings, were not without their effect. The Ministers had fought for days and they had fought alone. No single foreign representative had offered them help or counsel. They saw submission or destruction before them. "What is the use of our resisting?" said one. "The Japanese always get their way in the end." Signs of yielding began to appear. The acting Prime Minister, Han Kew-sul, jumped to his feet and said he would go and tell the Emperor of the talk of traitors. Han Kew-sul was allowed to leave the room and then was gripped by the Japanese Secretary of the Legation, thrown into a side-room and threatened with death. Even Marquis Ito went out to him to persuade him. "Would you not yield," the Marquis said, "if your Emperor commanded you?" "No," said Han Kew-sul, "not even then!"

This was enough. The Marquis at once went to the Emperor. "Han Kew-sul is a traitor," he said. "He defies you, and declares that he will not obey your commands."

Meanwhile the remaining Ministers waited in the Cabinet Chamber. Where was their leader, the man who had urged them all to resist to death? Minute after minute passed, and still he did not return. Then a whisper went round that the Japanese had killed him. The harsh voices of the Japanese grew still more strident. Courtesy and restraint were thrown off. "Agree with us and be rich, or oppose us and perish." Pak Che-sun, the Foreign Minister, one of the best and most capable of Korean statesmen, was the last to yield. But even he finally gave way. In the early hours of the morning commands were issued that the seal of State should be brought from the Foreign Minister's apartment, and a treaty should be signed. Here another difficulty arose. The custodian of the seal had received orders in advance that, even if his master commanded, the seal was not to be surrendered for any such purpose. When telephonic orders were sent to him, he refused to bring the seal along, and special messengers had to be despatched to take it from him by force. The Emperor himself asserts to this day that he did not consent.

The news of the signing of the treaty was received by the people with horror and indignation. Han Kew-sul, once he escaped from custody, turned on his fellow-Ministers as one distraught, and bitterly reproached them. "Why have you broken your promises?" he cried. "Why have you broken your promises?" The Ministers found themselves the most hated and despised of men. There was danger lest mobs should attack them and tear them to pieces. Pak Che-sun shrank away under the storm of execration that greeted him. On December 6th, as he was entering the palace, one of the soldiers lifted his rifle and tried to shoot him, Pak Che-sun turned back, and hurried to the Japanese Legation. There he forced his way into the presence of Mr. Hayashi, and drew a knife. "It is you who have brought me to this," he cried. "You have made me a traitor to my country." He attempted to cut his own throat, but Mr. Hayashi stopped him, and he was sent to hospital for treatment. When he recovered he was chosen by the Japanese as the new Prime Minister, Han Kew-sul being exiled and disgraced. Pak did not, however, hold office for very long, being somewhat too independent to suit his new masters.

As the news spread through the country, the people of various districts assembled, particularly in the north, and started to march southwards to die in front of the palace as a protest. Thanks to the influence of the missionaries, many of them were stopped. "It is of no use your dying in that way," the missionaries told them. "You had better live and make your country better able to hold its own." A number of leading officials, including all the surviving past Prime Ministers, and over a hundred men who had previously held high office under the Crown, went to the palace, and demanded that the Emperor should openly repudiate the treaty, and execute those Ministers who had acquiesced in it. The Emperor tried to temporize with them, for he was afraid that, if he took too openly hostile an attitude, the Japanese would punish him. The memorialists sat down in the palace buildings, refusing to move, and demanding an answer. Some of their leaders were arrested by the Japanese gendarmes, only to have others, still greater men, take their place. The storekeepers of the city put up their shutters to mark their mourning.

At last a message came from the Emperor: "Although affairs now appear to you to be dangerous, there may presently result some benefit to the nation." The gendarmes descended on the petitioners and threatened them with general arrest if they remained around the palace any longer. They moved on to a shop where they tried to hold a meeting, but they were turned out of it by the police. Min Yong-whan, their leader, a former Minister for War and Special Korean Ambassador at Queen Victoria's Diamond Jubilee, went home. He wrote letters to his friends lamenting the state of his country, and then committed suicide. Several other statesmen did the same, while many others resigned. One native paper, the _Whang Sung Shimbun_, dared to print an exact statement of what had taken place. Its editor was promptly arrested, and thrown into prison, and the paper suppressed. Its lamentation voiced the feeling of the country:--

"When it was recently made known the Marquis Ito would come to
Korea our deluded people all said, with one voice, that he is the
man who will be responsible for the maintenance of friendship
between the three countries of the Far East (Japan, China, and
Korea), and, believing that his visit to Korea was for the sole
purpose of devising good plans for strictly maintaining the
promised integrity and independence of Korea, our people, from
the seacoast to the capital, united in extending to him a hearty
welcome.

"But oh! How difficult is it to anticipate affairs in this world.
Without warning, a proposal containing five clauses was laid
before the Emperor, and we then saw how mistaken we were about
the object of Marquis Ito's visit. However, the Emperor firmly
refused to have anything to do with these proposals and Marquis
Ito should then, properly, have abandoned his attempt and
returned to his own country.

"But the Ministers of our Government, who are worse than pigs or
dogs, coveting honours and advantages for themselves, and
frightened by empty threats, were trembling in every limb, and
were willing to become traitors to their country and betray to
Japan the integrity of a nation which has stood for 4,000 years,
the foundation and honour of a dynasty 500 years old, and the
rights and freedom of twenty million people.

"We do not wish to too deeply blame Pak Che-sun and the other
Ministers, of whom, as they are little better than brute animals,
too much was not to be expected, but what can be said of the
Vice-Prime Minister, the chief of the Cabinet, whose early
opposition to the proposals of Marquis Ito was an empty form
devised to enhance his reputation with the people?

"Can he not now repudiate the agreement or can he not rid the
world of his presence? How can he again stand before the Emperor
and with what face can he ever look upon any one of his twenty
million compatriots?

"Is it worth while for any of us to live any longer? Our people
have become the slaves of others, and the spirit of a nation
which has stood for 4,000 years, since the days of Tun Kun and
Ke-ja has perished in a single night. Alas! fellow-countrymen.
Alas!"

Suicides, resignations, and lamentation were of no avail. The Japanese gendarmes commanded the streets, and the Japanese soldiers, behind them, were ready to back up their will by the most unanswerable of arguments--force.

Naturally, as might have been expected by those who know something of the character of the Japanese, every effort was made to show that there had been no breach of treaty promises. Korea was still an independent country, and the dignity of its Imperial house was still unimpaired. Japan had only brought a little friendly pressure on a weaker brother to assist him along the path of progress. Such talk pleased the Japanese, and helped them to reconcile the contrast between their solemn promises and their actions. It deceived no one else. Soon even, the Japanese papers made little or no more talk of Korean independence. "Korean independence is a farce," they said. And for the time they were right.

The Emperor did his utmost to induce the Powers, more particularly America, to intervene, but in vain. The story of his efforts is an interesting episode in the records of diplomacy.

Dr. Allen, the American Minister, wrote to his Secretary of State, on April 14, 1904, telling of the serious concern of the Korean Emperor over recent happenings. "He falls back in his extremity upon his old friendship with America.... The Emperor confidently expects that America will do something for him at the close of this war, or when opportunity offers, to retain for him as much of his independence as is possible. He is inclined to give a very free and favourable translation to Article I of our treaty of Jenchuan of 1882" (_i.e._, the pledge, "If other Powers deal unjustly or oppressively with either Government, the other will exert their good offices, on being informed of the case, to bring about an amicable arrangement, thus showing their friendly feeling").

In April, 1905, Dr. Allen transmitted to Washington copies of protests by an American missionary and certain Koreans against the conduct of Japanese subjects in Korea. Dr. Allen was shortly afterwards replaced by Mr. Edwin V. Morgan.

In October, 1905, the Emperor, determined to appeal directly to America, enlisted the services of Professor Homer B. Hulbert, editor of the _Korea Review_, who had been employed continuously in educational work in Seoul since 1886, and despatched him to Washington, with a letter to the President of the United States. Mr. Hulbert informed his Minister at Seoul of his mission and started off. The Japanese learned of his departure (Mr. Hulbert suggests that the American Minister may have informed them) and used every effort to force a decision before the letter could be delivered.

On the same day that Mr. Hulbert reached Washington the Korean Cabinet were forced to sign the document giving Japan a protectorate over their land. Formal notification had not yet, however, arrived at Washington, so it was resolved not to receive Mr. Hulbert until this had come.

"I supposed that the President would be not only willing but
eager to see the letter," said Mr. Hulbert in a statement
presented later to the Senate; "but instead of that I received
the astounding answer that the President would not receive it. I
cast about in my own mind for a possible reason, but could
imagine none. I went to the State Department with it, but was
told that they were too busy to see me. Remember that at that
very moment Korea was in her death throes; that she was in full
treaty relations with us; that there was a Korean legation in
Washington and an American legation in Seoul. I determined that
there was something here that was more than mere carelessness.
There was premeditation in the refusal. There was no other
answer. They said I might come the following day. I did so and
was told that they were still too busy, but might come the next
day. I hurried over to the White House and asked to be admitted.
A secretary came out and without any preliminary whatever told me
in the lobby that they knew the contents of the letter, but that
the State Department was the only place to go. I had to wait till
the next day. But on that same day, the day before I was
admitted, the administration, without a word to the Emperor or
Government of Korea or to the Korean Legation, and knowing well
the contents of the undelivered letter, accepted Japan's
unsupported statement that it was all satisfactory to the Korean
Government and people, cabled our legation to remove from Korea,
cut off all communication with the Korean Government, and then
admitted me with the letter."

On November 25th Mr. Hulbert received a message from Mr. Root that

"The letter from the Emperor of Korea which you intrusted to me
has been placed in the President's hands and read by him.

"In view of the fact that the Emperor desires that the sending of
the letter should remain secret, and of the fact that since
intrusting it to you the Emperor has made a new agreement with
Japan disposing of the whole question to which the letter
relates, it seems quite impracticable that any action should be
based upon it."

On the following day Mr. Hulbert received a cablegram from the Emperor, which had been despatched from Chefoo, in order not to pass over the Japanese wires:--

"I declare that the so-called treaty of protectorate recently
concluded between Korea and Japan was extorted at the point of
the sword and under duress and therefore is null and void. I
never consented to it and never will. Transmit to American
Government.
"THE EMPEROR OF KOREA."

Poor Emperor! Innocent simpleton to place such trust in a written bond. Mr. Root had already telegraphed to the American Minister at Seoul to withdraw from Korea and to return to the United States.

No one supposes that the Washington authorities were deceived by the statement of the Japanese authorities or that they believed for one moment that the treaty was secured in any other way than by force. To imagine so would be an insult to their intelligence. It must be remembered that Japan was at this time at the very height of her prestige. President Roosevelt was convinced, mainly through the influence of his old friend, Mr. George Kennan, that the Koreans were unfit for self-government. He was anxious to please Japan, and therefore he deliberately refused to interfere. His own explanation, given some years afterwards, was:

"To be sure, by treaty it was solemnly covenanted that Korea
should remain independent. But Korea itself was helpless to
enforce the treaty, and it was out of the question to suppose
that any other nation, with no interest of its own at stake,
would do for the Koreans what they were utterly unable to do for
themselves."

There we have the essence of international political morality.

The letter of the Emperor of Korea to the President of the United States makes interesting reading:

"Ever since 1883 the United States and Korea have been in
friendly treaty relations. Korea has received many proofs of the
good will and the sympathy of the American Government and people.
The American Representatives have always shown themselves to be
in sympathy with the welfare and progress of Korea. Many teachers
have been sent from America who have done much for the uplift of
our people.

"But we have not made the progress that we ought. This is due
partly to the political machinations of foreign powers and partly
to our mistakes. At the beginning of the Japan-Russia war the
Japanese Government asked us to enter into an alliance with them,
granting them the use of our territory, harbours, and other
resources, to facilitate their military and naval operations.
Japan, on her part, guaranteed to preserve the independence of
Korea and the welfare and dignity of the royal house. We complied
with Japan's request, loyally lived up to our obligations, and
did everything that we had stipulated. By so doing we put
ourselves in such a position that if Russia had won, she could
have seized Korea and annexed her to Russian territory on the
ground that we were active allies of Japan.

"It is now apparent that Japan proposes to abrogate their part of
this treaty and declare a protectorate over our country in direct
contravention of her sworn promise in the agreement of 1904.
There are several reasons why this should not be done.

"In the first place, Japan will stultify herself by such a direct
breach of faith. It will injure her prestige as a power that
proposes to work according to enlightened laws.

"In the second place, the actions of Japan in Korea during the
past two years give no promise that our people will be handled in
an enlightened manner. No adequate means have been provided
whereby redress could be secured for wrongs perpetrated upon our
people. The finances of the country have been gravely mishandled
by Japan. Nothing has been done towards advancing the cause of
education or justice. Every move on Japan's part has been
manifestly selfish.

"The destruction of Korea's independence will work her a great
injury, because it will intensify the contempt with which the
Japanese people treat the Koreans and will make their acts all
the more oppressive.

"We acknowledge that many reforms are needed in Korea. We are
glad to have the help of Japanese advisers, and we are prepared
loyally to carry out their suggestions. We recognize the mistakes
of the past. It is not for ourselves we plead, but for the Korean
people.

"At the beginning of the war our people gladly welcomed the
Japanese, because this seemed to herald needed reforms and a
general bettering of conditions, but soon it was seen that no
genuine reforms were intended and the people had been deceived.

"One of the gravest evils that will follow a protectorate by
Japan is that the Korean people will lose all incentive to
improvement. No hope will remain that they can ever regain their
independence. They need the spur of national feeling to make them
determine upon progress and to make them persevere in it. But the
extinction of nationality will bring despair, and instead of
working loyally and gladly in conjunction with Japan, the
old-time hatred will be intensified and suspicion and animosity
will result.

"It has been said that sentiment should have no place in such
affairs, but we believe, sir, that sentiment is the moving force
in all human affairs, and that kindness, sympathy, and generosity
are still working between nations as between individuals. We beg
of you to bring to bear upon this question the same breadth of
mind and the same calmness of judgment that have characterized
your course hitherto, and, having weighed the matter, to render
us what aid you can consistently in this our time of national
danger."

[Private Seal of the Emperor of Korea.]

VI

THE RULE OF PRINCE ITO

Marquis Ito was made the first Japanese Resident-General in Korea. There could have been no better choice, and no choice more pleasing to the Korean people. He was regarded by the responsible men of the nation with a friendliness such as few other Japanese inspired. Here was a man greater than his policies. Every one who came in contact with him felt that, whatever the nature of the measures he was driven to adopt in the supposed interests of his Emperor, he yet sincerely meant well by the Korean people. The faults of his administration were the necessary accompaniments of Japanese military expansion; his virtues were his own. It was a noble act for him to take on himself the most burdensome and exacting post that Japanese diplomacy had to offer, at an age when he might well have looked for the ease and dignity of the close of an honour-sated career.

The Marquis brought with him several capable Japanese officials of high rank, and began his new rule by issuing regulations fixing the position and duties of his staff. Under these, the Resident-General became in effect supreme Administrator of Korea, with power to do what he pleased. He had authority to repeal any order or measure that he considered injurious to public interests, and he could punish to the extent of not more than a year's imprisonment or not more than a 200 yen fine. This limitation of his punitive power was purely nominal, for the country was under martial law and the courts-martial had power to inflict death. Residents and Vice-Residents, of Japanese nationality, were placed over the country, acting practically as governors. The police were placed under Japanese inspectors where they were not themselves Japanese. The various departments of affairs, agricultural, commercial, and industrial, were given Japanese directors and advisers, and the power of appointing all officials, save those of the highest rank, was finally in the hands of the Resident-General. This limitation, again, was soon put on one side. Thus, the Resident-General became dictator of Korea--a dictator, however, who still conducted certain branches of local affairs there through native officials and who had to reckon with the intrigues of a Court party which he could not as yet sweep on one side.

To Japan, Korea was chiefly of importance as a strategic position for military operations on the continent of Asia and as a field for emigration. The first steps under the new administration were in the direction of perfecting communications throughout the country, so as to enable the troops to be moved easily and rapidly from point to point. A railway had already been built from Fusan to Seoul, and another was in course of completion from Seoul to Wi-ju, thus giving a trunk line that would carry large numbers of Japanese soldiers from Japan itself to the borders of Manchuria in about thirty-six hours. A loan of 10,000,000 yen was raised on the guarantee of the Korean Customs, and a million and a half of this was spent on four main military roads, connecting some of the chief districts with the principal harbours and railway centres. Part of the cost of these was paid by the loan and part by special local taxation. It may be pointed out that these roads were military rather than industrial undertakings. The usual methods of travel and for conveying goods in the interior of Korea was by horseback and with pack-ponies. For these, the old narrow tracks served, generally speaking, very well. The new roads were finely graded, and were built in such a manner that rails could be quickly laid down on them and artillery and ammunition wagons rapidly conveyed from point to point. Another railway was built from Seoul to Gensan, on the east coast.

The old Korean "Burglar Capture Office," the native equivalent to the Bow Street Runners, or the Mulberry Street detectives, was abolished, as were the local police, and police administration was more and more put in the hands of special constables brought over from Japan. The Japanese military gendarmerie were gradually sent back and their places taken by civilian constables. This change was wholly for the good. The gendarmerie had earned a very bad reputation in country parts for harshness and arbitrary conduct. The civilian police proved themselves far better men, more conciliatory, and more just.

One real improvement instituted by the Residency-General was the closer control of Japanese immigrants. Numbers of the worst offenders were laid by the heels and sent back home. The Residency officials were increased in numbers, and in some parts at least it became easier for a Korean to obtain a hearing when he had a complaint against a Japanese. The Marquis Ito spoke constantly in favour of a policy of conciliation and friendship, and after a time he succeeded in winning over the coöperation of some of the foreigners.

It became more and more clear, however, that the aim of the Japanese was nothing else than the entire absorption of the country and the destruction of every trace of Korean nationality. One of the most influential Japanese in Korea put this quite frankly to me in 1906. "You must understand that I am not expressing official views," he told me. "But if you ask me as an individual what is to be the outcome of our policy, I only see one end. This will take several generations, but it must come. The Korean people will be absorbed by the Japanese. They will talk our language, live our life, and be an integral part of us. There are only two ways of colonial administration. One is to rule over the people as aliens. This you British have done in India, and therefore your Empire cannot endure. India must pass out of your rule. The second way is to absorb the people. This is what we will do. We will teach them our language, establish our institutions, and make them one with us."

The policy of the new administration towards foreigners was one of gradual, but no less sure, exclusion. Everything that could be done was done to rob the white man of what prestige was yet left to him. Careful and systematic efforts were made, in particular, by the Japanese newspapers and some of the officials to make the native Christian converts turn from their American teachers, and throw in their lot with the Japanese. The native press, under Japanese editorship, systematically preached anti-white doctrines. Any one who mixed freely with the Korean people heard from them, time after time, of the principles the Japanese would fain have them learn. I was told of this by ex-Cabinet Ministers, by young students, and even by native servants. One of my own Korean "boys" put the matter in a nutshell to me one day. He raised the question of the future of Japan in Asia, and he summarized the new Japanese doctrines very succinctly. "Master," he said to me, "Japanese man wanchee all Asia be one, with Japanese man topside. All Japanese man wanchee this; some Korean man wanchee, most no wanchee; all Chinaman no wanchee."

It may be thought that the Japanese would at least have learnt from their experience in 1895 not to attempt to interfere with the dress or personal habits of the people. Nothing among all their blunders during the earlier period was more disastrous to them than the regulations compelling the men to cut off their topknots. These did Japan greater harm among the common people than even the murder of the Queen. Yet no sooner had Japan established herself again than once more sumptuary regulations were issued. The first was an order against wearing white dress in wintertime. People were to attire themselves in nothing but dark-coloured garments, and those who refused to obey were coerced in many ways. The Japanese did not at once insist on a general system of hair-cutting, but they brought the greatest pressure to bear on all in any way under their authority. Court officials, public servants, magistrates, and the like, were commanded to cut their hair. Officials were evidently instructed to make every one who came under their influence have his topknot off. The Il Chin Hoi, the pro-Japanese society, followed in the same line. European dress was forced on those connected with the Court. The national costume, like the national language, was, if possible, to die. Ladies of the Court were ordered to dress themselves in foreign style. The poor ladies in consequence found it impossible to show themselves in any public place, for they were greeted with roars of derision.

The lowered status of the white in Korea could be clearly seen by the attitude of many of the Japanese towards him. I heard stories from friends of my own, residents in the country, quiet and inoffensive people that made my blood boil. It was difficult, for instance, to restrain one's indignation when a missionary lady told you of how she was walking along the street when a Japanese soldier hustled up against her and deliberately struck her in the breast. The Roman Catholic bishop was openly insulted and struck by Japanese soldiers in his own cathedral, and nothing was done. The story of Mr. and Mrs. Weigall typifies others. Mr. Weigall is an Australian mining engineer, and was travelling up north with his wife and assistant, Mr. Taylor, and some Korean servants, in December, 1905. He had full authorizations and passports, and was going about his business in a perfectly proper manner. His party was stopped at one point by some Japanese soldiers, and treated in a fashion which it is impossible fully to describe in print. They were insulted, jabbed at with bayonets, and put under arrest. One soldier held his gun close to Mrs. Weigall and struck her full in the chest with his closed fist when she moved. The man called them by the most insulting names possible, keeping the choicest phrases for the lady. Their servants were kicked. Finally they were allowed to go away after a long delay and long exposure to bitter weather, repeated insults being hurled after them. The British authorities took up this case. There was abundant evidence, and there could be no dispute about the facts. All the satisfaction, however, that the Weigalls could obtain was a nominal apology.

Then there was the case of the Rev. Mr. McRae, a Canadian missionary living in northeastern Korea. Mr. McRae had obtained some land for a mission station, and the Japanese military authorities there wanted it. They drove stakes into part of the property, and he thereupon represented the case to the Japanese officials, and after at least twice asking them to remove their stakes, he pulled them up himself. The Japanese waited until a fellow-missionary, who lived with Mr. McRae, had gone away on a visit, and then six soldiers entered his compound and attacked him. He defended himself so well that he finally drove them off, although he received some bad injuries, especially from the blows from one of the men's rifles. Complaint was made to the chief authorities, and, in this case, the Japanese promised to punish the officer concerned. But there were dozens of instances affecting Europeans of all ranks, from consular officials to chance visitors. In most cases the complaints were met by a simple denial on the part of the Japanese. Even where the offence was admitted and punishment was promised, the Europeans would assure you that the men, whom it had been promised to imprison, came and paraded themselves outside their houses immediately afterwards in triumph. In Korea, as in Formosa, the policy was and is to humiliate the white man by any means and in any way.

Two regulations of the Japanese, apparently framed in the interests of the Koreans, proved to be a dangerous blow at their rights. New land laws were drawn up, by which fresh title-deeds were given for the old and complicated deeds of former times. As the Koreans, however, pointed out, large numbers of people held their land in such a way that it was impossible for them to prove their right by written deeds. Until the end of 1905 large numbers of Koreans went abroad to Honolulu and elsewhere as labourers. The Residency-General then framed new emigration laws, nominally to protect the natives, which have had the result of making the old systematic emigration impossible. Families who would fain have escaped the Japanese rule and establish themselves in other lands had every possible hindrance put in their way.

Act after act revealed that the Japanese considered Korea and all in it belonged to them. Did they want a thing? Then let them take it, and woe be to the man who dared to hinder them! This attitude was illustrated in an interesting fashion by a bit of vandalism on the part of Viscount Tanaka, Special Envoy from the Mikado to the Korean Emperor. When the Viscount was in Seoul, late in 1906, he was approached by a Japanese curio-dealer, who pointed out to him that there was a very famous old Pagoda in the district of P'ung-duk, a short distance from Song-do. This Pagoda was presented to Korea by the Chinese Imperial Court a thousand years ago, and the people believed that the stones of which it was constructed possessed great curative qualities. They named it the "Medicine King Pagoda" (Yakwang Top), and its fame was known throughout the country. It was a national memorial as much as the Monument near London Bridge is a national memorial for Englishmen or the Statue of Liberty for Americans. Viscount Tanaka is a great curio-collector, and when he heard of this Pagoda, he longed for it. He mentioned his desire to the Korean Minister for the Imperial Household, and the Minister told him to take it if he wanted it. A few days afterwards, Viscount Tanaka, when bidding the Emperor farewell, thanked him for the gift. The Korean Emperor looked blank, and said that he did not know what the Viscount was talking about. He had heard nothing of it.

However, before long, a party of eighty Japanese, including a number of gendarmes, well armed and ready for resistance, swooped down on Song-do. They took the Pagoda to pieces and placed the stones on carts. The people of the district gathered round them, threatened them, and tried to attack them. But the Japanese were too strong. The Pagoda was conveyed in due course to Tokyo.