Chapter XII: Introduction (10)

But soon the power of the law and the pen were invoked to crush out the exotic faith. The first victim was tried on the charge of destroying his ancestral tablets, tortured, and sent into exile, in which he soon after died. The scholars now took up weapons, and in April, 1784, the king’s preceptor issued the first public document officially directed against Christianity. In it all parents and relatives were entreated to break off all relations with Christians. The names of the leaders were published, and the example of Thomas Kim, the first victim, was cited. Forthwith began a violent pressure upon the believers to renounce their faith. Then began an exhibition alike of steadfast faith and shameful apostasy, but though even Stonewall lapsed, the work went on. The next few years of Christianity were important ones. The leaders formed an organization and as nearly as they could on the lines of the Roman Catholic church. Instructions were sent from Peking by the priests there, and the worship in Corea became quite in harmony with that of the Western church. But the decision that the worship of ancestors must be abolished, was, in the eyes of the Corean public, a blow at the framework of society and state, and many feeble adherents began to fall away. December 8, 1791, Paul and Jacques Kim were decapitated for refusing to recant their Christian faith. Thus was shed the first blood for Corean Christianity. Martyrdom was frequent in this early history of the Christian church in Corea, but in the ten years following the baptism of Peter in Peking in 1783, in spite of persecution and apostasy, it is estimated that there were four thousand Christians in the peninsula.

The first attempt of a foreign missionary to enter the Hermit Kingdom from the west was made early in 1791. This was a Portuguese priest who endeavored to cross the Yalu River to join some native Christians, but was disappointed in meeting them and returned to Peking. Two years later a young Chinese priest entered the forbidden territory, and was hidden for three years in the house of a noble woman, where he preached and taught. Three native Christians who refused to reveal his whereabouts were tortured to death and were thrown into the Han River. From the beginning of this century the most bitter general persecutions against Christians was enforced. The young Chinese priest, learning that he was outlawed, surrendered himself to relieve his friends of the responsibility of protecting him, and was executed. The woman also who had so long sheltered him was beheaded. Four other women who were attendants in the palace, and an artist who was condemned for painting Christian subjects were beheaded near the “Little Western Gate” of Seoul. The policy of the government was shown in making away with the Christians of rank and education who might be able to direct affairs in the absence of the foreign priests, and in letting the poor and humble go free.

It is impossible to catalogue the martyrs and the edicts against Christianity. The condition of the Christians scattered in the mountains and forests, suffering poverty, hunger, and cold, was most deplorable. In 1811 the Corean converts addressed letters to the Pope begging aid in their distress. These however could not be answered in the way they desired, for the Pope himself was then a prisoner at Fontainebleau and the Roman propaganda was nearly at a standstill.

In 1817 the king and court were terrified by the appearance off the west coast of the British vessels Alceste and Lyra, but beyond some surveys, purchases of provisions, and interviews with some local magistrates, the foreigners departed without opening communication with them. Fifteen years later the British ship Lord Amherst passed along the coasts of Chulla, seeking commercial connections. On board was a Protestant missionary, a Prussian. He landed on several of the islands and attempted to gain some acquaintance with the people, but made little progress. The year 1834 closed the first half century of Corean Christianity. It is not strange that persecutions resulted from the advance of Roman Catholic strength in Corea, for the Corean Christians assumed naturally the righteousness of the Pope’s claim to temporal power as the vicar of heaven. The Corean Christians not only deceived their magistrates and violated their country’s laws, but actually invited armed invasion. Hence, from the first, Christianity was associated in patriotic minds with treason and robbery.

After the restoration of the Bourbons in France and the strengthening of the Papal throne by foreign bayonets, the missionary zeal in the church was kindled afresh, and it was resolved to found a mission in Corea. The first priest to make entrance was Pierre Philibert Maubant, who reached Seoul in 1836, the first Frenchman who had penetrated the Hermit Nation. A few months later another joined him, and in December, 1838, Bishop Imbert ran the gauntlet of wilderness, ice, and guards at the frontier, and took up his residence under the shadow of the king’s palace. Work now went on vigorously, and in 1838 the Christians numbered nine thousand. At the beginning of the next year the party in favor of extirpating Christianity having gained the upper hand, another persecution broke out with redoubled violence. To stay the further shedding of blood, Bishop Imbert and his two priests came out of their hiding places and delivered themselves up. They were horribly tortured, and decapitated September 21, 1839. Six bitter years passed before the Christians again had a foreign pastor.

Since 1839 the government had tripled its vigilance and doubled the guards on the frontier. The most strenuous efforts to pass the barriers repeatedly failed. Andrew Kim is a name to be remembered in the history of Christianity in Corea. Year after year he worked to enter Corea, or once in, to advance the cause, or when rejected to help others in the work. He was ordained to the priesthood in Shanghai, and finally in company with two French priests, in September, 1845, sailed across the Yellow Sea, and landed on the coast of Chulla, to make his final effort to spread Christianity among the Coreans. During July of the same year, the British ship Samarang was engaged in surveying off Quelpaert and the south coast of Corea. Beacon fires all over the land telegraphed the news of the presence of foreign ships, and the close watch that was kept by the coast magistrates made the return of Andrew Kim doubly dangerous.

These records of perseverance, of distress, of martyrdom, from the pages of missionary work in Corea, written in the blood of native converts, who bore their cross with equal bravery to that of the Roman fathers, may be surprising to some who have been unfamiliar with the history of the Corean peninsula. But they are convincing testimony to controvert the assertions of some incredulous ones who affirm that the “heathen” are never really Christianized, but are always ready to return to their idols in times of trial. There is no country that can show braver examples of fortitude, in enduring trial for the support of the faith, than the “Hermit Nation.”

Three priests in disguise were now secretly at work in Corea, Andrew Kim, a native convert, and the Frenchmen, Bishop Ferreol, and his companion Daveluy. Kim was captured and in company with half a dozen others was executed September 16th. While he was in prison the Bishop heard of three French ships which were at that time vainly trying to find the mouth of the Han River and the channel to the capital. Ferreol wrote to Captain Cecile, who commanded the fleet, but the note arrived too late and Kim’s fate was sealed. The object of the fleet’s visit was to demand satisfaction for the murder of the two French priests in 1889, but after some coast surveys were made and a threatening letter was dispatched the ships withdrew.

During the summer of 1845, two French frigates set sail for the Corean coast, and August 10th went aground, and both vessels became total wrecks. The six hundred men made their camp at Kokun island, where they were kindly treated and furnished with provisions, although rigidly secluded and guarded against all communication with the main land. An English ship from Shanghai rescued the crews. During the ensuing eight years repeated efforts were made by missionaries and native converts to enter Corea and advance the work there, and the labor of propagation progressed. A number of religious works in the Corean language were printed from a native printing press and widely circulated. In 1850 the Christians numbered eleven thousand, and five young men were studying for the priesthood. Regular mails sewn into the thick cotton coats of the men in the annual embassy were sent to and brought from China. The western nations were beginning to take an interest in the twin hermits of the east, Corea and Japan. In 1852, the Russian frigate Pallas traced and mapped a portion of the shore line of the east coast, and the work was continued three years later by the French war vessel Virginie. At the end of this voyage the whole coast from Fusan to the Tumen was known with some accuracy and mapped out with European names.

It was in the intervening years, 1853 and 1854, that Commodore Perry and the American squadron were in the waters of the far east, driving the wedge of civilization into Japan. The American flag, however, was not yet seen in Corean waters, though the court of Seoul was kept informed of Perry’s movements.

A fresh reinforcement of missionaries reached Corea in 1857. When three years later the French and English forces opened war with China, took the Peiho forts, entered Peking, and sacked the summer palace of the Son of Heaven, driving the Chinese emperor to flight, the loss of Chinese prestige struck terror into all Corean hearts. For six centuries China had been in Corean eyes the synonym and symbol of invincible power. Copies of the treaties made between China and the allies, granting freedom of trade and religion, were soon read in Corea, causing intense alarm. But the most alarming thing was the treaty between China and Russia, by which the Manchoo rulers surrendered the great tract watered by the Amoor river and bordered by the Pacific, to Russia. It was a rich and fertile region, with a coast full of harbors, and comprising an area as large as France. The boundaries of Siberia now touch Corea. With France on the right, Russia on the left, China humbled, and Japan opened to the western world, it is not strange that the rulers in Seoul trembled. The results to Christianity were that within a few years thousands of natives fled their country and settled in the Russian villages. At the capital, official business was suspended and many families of rank fled to the mountains. In many instances people of rank humbly sought the good favor and protection of the Christians, hoping for safety when the dreaded invasion should come. In the midst of these war preparations, the French missionary body was reinforced by the arrival of four of their countrymen who set foot on the soil of their martyrdom, October, 1861.

The Ni dynasty, founded in 1392, came to an end January 15, 1864, by the death of King Chul-chong, who had no child, before he had nominated an heir. Palace intrigues and excitement among the political parties followed. The widows of the three kings who had reigned since 1831 were still living. The eldest of these, Queen Cho, at once seized the royal seal and emblems of authority, which high-handed move made her the mistress of the situation. A twelve-year-old lad was nominated for the throne, and his father, Ni Kung, one of the royal princes, became the actual regent. He held the reins of government during the next nine years, ruling with power like that of an absolute despot. He was a rabid hater of Christianity, foreigners, and progress.

The year 1866 is phenomenal in Corean history. It seemed to the rulers as if the governments of many nations had conspired to pierce their walls of isolation. Russians, Frenchmen, Englishmen, Americans, Germans, authorized and unauthorized, landed to trade, rob, kill, or what was equally obnoxious to the regent and his court, to make treaties. This and the rapid progress of Christianity now excited the anti-Christian party, which was in full power at the court, to clamor for the enforcement of the old edict against the foreign religion.

Vainly the regent warned the court of the danger from Europe. Forced by the party in power, he signed the death warrants of bishops and priests and promulgated anew the old laws against the Christians. Within a few weeks fourteen French priests and bishops were tortured to death, and twice as many native missionaries and students for the priesthood suffered like fate. Scores of native Christians were put to death, and hundreds more were in prison. In a little over a month, all missionary operations came to a standstill. The three French priests who remained alive escaped from the peninsula in a Chinese junk, and finally reached Chefoo October 26. Not one foreign priest now remained in Corea, and no Christian dared openly confess his faith. Thus after twenty years of nearly uninterrupted labors, the church was again stripped of her pastors, and at the end of eighty-two years of Corean Christianity the curtain fell in blood.

With Bishop Ridel as interpreter and three of his converts as pilots, three French vessels were sent to explore the Han River and to make effort to secure satisfaction for the murder of the French bishops and priests in the previous March. They entered the river September 21, and two of the vessels advanced to Seoul, leaving one at the mouth of the river. One or two forts fired on the vessels as they steamed along, and in one place a fleet of junks gathered to dispute their passage. A well-aimed shot sunk two of the crazy craft, and a bombshell dropped among the artillerists in the redoubt, silenced it at once. On the evening of the 25th, the two ships cast anchor and the flag of France floated in front of the Corean capital. The hills were white with gazing thousands, who for the first time saw a vessel moving under steam. The ships remained abreast of the city several days, the officers taking soundings and measurements, computing heights, and making plans. Bishop Ridel went on shore in hopes of finding a Christian and hearing some news but none dared to approach him. While the French remained in the river not a bag of rice nor a fagot of wood entered Seoul. Eight days of such terror, and a famine would have raged in the city. Seven thousand houses were deserted by their occupants. When the ships returned to the mouth of the river two converts came on board. They informed Ridel of the burning of a “European” vessel, the General Sherman, at Ping-Yang, of the renewal of the persecution, and of the order that Christians should be put to death without waiting for instructions from Seoul. Sailing away, the ships arrived at Chefoo, October 3.

The regent, now thoroughly alarmed, began to stir up the country to defense. The military forces in every province were called out, and the forges and blacksmith shops were busy day and night in making arms of every known kind. Loaded junks were sunk in the channel of the Han to obstruct it. Word was sent to the tycoon of Japan informing him of the trouble, and begging for assistance, but the Yeddo government had quite all it could do at that time to take care of itself. Instead of help two commissioners were appointed to go to Seoul and recommend that Corea open her ports to foreign commerce as Japan had done, and thus choose peace instead of war with foreigners. Before the envoys could leave Japan the tycoon had died, and the next year Japan was in the throes of civil war, the shogunate was abolished, and Corea was for the time utterly forgotten.

Another fleet of French vessels sailed from China to Corea, consisting of seven ships of various kinds, and with six hundred soldiers. The force landed before the city of Kang-wa on the island of the same name, and captured the city without difficulty on the morning of October 16. Several engagements in the same vicinity followed, all of them successful to the French until they came to attack a fortified monastery on the island some ten days later. Here they were repulsed with heavy loss to themselves and to the foe. The next morning to the surprise of all and the anger of many, orders were given to embark. The troops in Kang-wa set fire to the city which in a few hours burned to ashes. The departure of the invaders was so precipitate that Corean patriots to this day gloat over it as a disgraceful retreat.

In the palace at Seoul the resolve was made to exterminate Christianity, root and branch. Women and even children were ordered to the death. Several Christian nobles were executed. One Christian who was betrayed in the capital by his pagan brother, and another fellow believer, were taken to the river side in front of the city, near the place where the two French vessels had anchored. At this historic spot, by an innovation unknown in the customs of Cho-sen, they were decapitated and their headless trunks held neck downward to spout out the hot life blood, that it might wash away the stain of foreign pollution. Upon the mind of the regent and court the effect was to swell their pride to the folly of extravagant conceit. Feeling themselves able almost to defy the world, they began soon after to hurl their defiance at Japan. The results of this expedition were disastrous all over the east. Happening at a time when relations between foreigners and Chinese were strained, the unexpected return of the fleet filled the minds of Europeans in China with alarm. The smothered embers of hostility to foreign influence, steadily gathered vigor as the report spread through China that the hated Frenchmen had been driven away by the Coreans. The fires at length broke out in the Tien-tsin massacre of 1870.

It was this same year, 1866, that witnessed the marriage of the young king, now but fourteen years old, to Min, the daughter of one of the noble families. Popular report has always credited the young queen with abilities not inferior to those of her royal husband. The Min or Ming family is largely Chinese in blood and origin, and beside being preëminent among all the Corean nobility in social, political, and intellectual power, has been most strenuous in adherence to Chinese ideas and traditions with the purpose of keeping Corea unswerving in her vassalage and loyalty to China.

American associations with Corea have been peculiarly interesting. The commerce carried on by American vessels with Chinese and Japanese ports made the navigation of Corean waters a necessity. Sooner or later shipwrecks must occur, and the question of the humane treatment of American citizens cast on Corean shores came up before our government for settlement, as it had long before in the case of Japan. Within one year the Corean government had three American cases to deal with. June 24, 1866, the American schooner Surprise, was wrecked off the coast of Wang-hai. The approach of any foreign vessel was especially dangerous at this time, as the crews might be mistaken for Frenchmen and killed by the people from patriotic impulses. Nevertheless, the captain and his crew, after being well catechised by the local magistrate and by a commissioner sent from Seoul, were kindly treated and well fed and provided with the comforts of life. By orders of Tai-wen Kun, the regent, they were escorted on horseback to Ai-chiu and after being feasted there were conducted safely to the border gate. Thence after a hard journey via Mukden they got to Niuchwang and to the United States consul.

The General Sherman was an American schooner that had the second experience with the Coreans. The vessel was owned by a Mr. Preston who was making a voyage for health. At Tien-tsin the schooner was loaded with goods likely to be salable in Corea, and she was dispatched there on an experimental voyage in the hope of thus opening the country to commerce. The complement of the vessel was five white foreigners and nineteen Malay and Chinese sailors. The white men were Mr. Hogarth, a young Englishman, Mr. Preston, the owner, and Messrs. Page and Wilson, the master and mate of the vessel, and the Rev. Mr. Thomas, a missionary, who were Americans. From the first the character of the expedition was suspected, because the men were rather too heavily armed for a peaceful trading voyage. It was believed in China that the royal coffins in the tombs of Ping-Yang were of solid gold, and it was broadly hinted that the expedition had something to do with these.

The schooner, whether merchant or invader, sailed from Chefoo and made for the mouth of the Tatong River. There they met the Chinese captain of a Chefoo junk who agreed to pilot them up the river. He stayed with the General Sherman for two days, then leaving her he returned to the river’s mouth, and sailed back to Chefoo. No further direct intelligence was ever received from the unfortunate party. According to one report the hatches of the schooner were fastened down after the crew had been driven beneath, and set on fire. According to another, all were decapitated. The Coreans burned the woodwork for the iron and took the cannon for models.

The United States steamship Wachusett, dispatched by Admiral Rowan to inquire into the matter, reached Chefoo January 14, 1867, and took on board the Chinese pilot of the General Sherman. Leaving Chefoo they cast anchor two days later at the mouth of the large inlet next south of the Tatong River, thinking that they had reached their destination. A letter was dispatched to the capital of the province demanding that the murderers be produced on the deck of the vessel. Five days elapsed before the answer arrived, during which the surveying boats were busy. Many natives were met and spoken with, who all told one story, that the Sherman’s crew were murdered by the people and not by official instigation. In a few days an officer from one of the villages appeared. He would give neither information nor satisfaction, and the gist of his reiteration was “go away as soon as possible.” Commander Shufeldt, bound by his orders, could do nothing more, and being compelled also by stress of weather came away.

Later in the year Dr. Williams, Secretary of the United States Legation at Peking, succeeded in obtaining an interview with a member of the Corean embassy, who told him that after the General Sherman got aground she careened over as the tide receded, and her crew landed to guard or float her. The natives gathered around them, and before long an altercation arose. A general attack began upon the foreigners, in which every man was killed by the mob. About twenty of the natives lost their lives. Dr. Williams’ comment is, “The evidence goes to uphold the presumption that they invoked their sad fate by some rash or violent act towards the natives.”

The United States steamship Shenandoah was sent to make further investigation, and this version of the story was given to the commander. The Coreans said that when the Sherman arrived in the river, the local officials went on board and addressed the two foreign officers of the ship in respectful language. The latter grossly insulted the native dignitaries. The Coreans treated their visitors kindly, but warned them of their danger and the unlawfulness of penetrating into the country. Nevertheless, the foreigners went up the river to Ping-Yang where they seized the ship of one of the city officials, put him in chains, and proceeded to rob the junks and their crews. The people of the city aroused to wrath, attacked the foreign ship with firearms and cannon; they set adrift fire rafts and even made a hand to hand fight with knives and swords. The foreigners fought desperately, but the Coreans overpowered them. Finally the ship caught fire and blew up with a terrible report. This story was not, of course, believed by the American officers, but even the best wishers and friends of the Sherman adventurers cannot stifle suspicion of either cruelty or insult to the natives. Remembering the kindness shown to the crew of the Surprise it is difficult to believe that the General Sherman’s crew was murdered without cause.

In 1884 Lieutenant J.B. Bernadon, of the United States navy, made a journey from Seoul to Ping-Yang, and being able to speak Corean, secured the following information from native Christians: The governor of Ping-Yang sent officers to inquire the mission of the Sherman. To gratify their curiosity large numbers of the common people set out also in boats which the Sherman’s crew mistook for a hostile demonstration and fired guns in the air to warn them off. When the river fell the Sherman grounded and careened over, which being seen from the city walls, a fleet of boats set out with hostile intent and were fired upon. Officers and people now enraged, started fire rafts, and soon the vessel, though with white flag hoisted, was in flames. Of those who leaped into the river most were drowned. Of those picked up one was the Rev. Mr. Thomas, who was able to talk Corean. He explained the meaning of the white flag, and begged to be surrendered to China. His prayer was in vain. In a few days all the prisoners were led out and publicly executed.

In the spring of 1867 an expedition was organized by a French Jesuit priest who spoke Corean, having been a missionary in the country; a German Jew named Ernest Oppert; and the interpreter at the United States consulate in Shanghai, a man named Jenkins. These worthies, it is said, conceived a plan to steal the body of one of the dead Corean monarchs, and hold it for ransom. With two steam vessels and a crew of sailors, laborers, and coolies, the riffraff of humanity, such as swarm in every Chinese port, they left Shanghai the last day of April, steamed to Nagasaki, and then to the west coast of Corea, landing in the river which flows into Prince Jerome Gulf. The steam tender which accompanied the larger vessel took an armed crowd up the river as far as possible, and from this point the march across the open country to the tomb was begun. Their tools were so ineffective that they could not move, the rocky slab which covered the sarcophagus, and they were compelled to give up their task. During their return march they were attacked by the exasperated Coreans, but were able to protect themselves without great difficulty. During the remainder of their buccaneering trip, which lasted ten days, they had various skirmishes and two or three of their party were killed. On their return to Shanghai the American of the party was arrested and tried before the United States consul, but it was impossible to prove the things with which Jenkins was charged, and he was dismissed. A few years later Oppert published a work in which he told the story of his different voyages to Corea, including this last one. In writing of the last he takes pains to gloss over the intentions of his journey and to explain the good motives behind it.

The representations made to the department of state at Washington by the United States diplomatic corps in China concerning these different attempts to enter Corea, directed the attention of the United States government to the opening of Corea to American commerce. The state department in 1870 resolved to undertake the enterprise. Frederick F. Low, minister of the United States to Peking, and Rear Admiral John Rodgers, commander in chief of the Asiatic squadron, were entrusted with the delicate mission. The American squadron consisted of the flagship Colorado, the corvettes Alaska and Dimitia, and the gunboats Monocacy and Palos. In spite of the formidable appearance of the navy, the vessels were either of an antiquated type, or of too heavy a draft, with their armament defective. All the naval world in Chinese waters wondered why the Americans should be content with such old fashioned ships unworthy of the gallant crews who manned them.

The squadron anchored near the mouth of the Han River May 30, 1871. Approaching the squadron in a junk, some natives made signs of friendship and came on board without hesitation. They bore a missive acknowledging the receipt of the letter which the Americans had sent to Corea some months before, by a special courier from the Chinese court. This reply announced that three nobles had been appointed by the regent for a conference. The next day a delegation of eight officers of the third and fifth rank came on board, evidently with intent to see the minister and admiral to learn all they could and gain time. They had little authority and no credentials, but they were sociable, friendly and in good humor. Neither of the envoys would see them, because they lacked rank and credentials and authority. The Corean envoys were informed that soundings would be taken in the river and the shores would be surveyed.

The best judges of eastern diplomacy think that this mission was very poorly managed. These envoys were sent ashore, and at noon on the 2nd of June the survey fleet moved up the river. The fleet consisted of four steam launches abreast, followed by the Palos and Monocacy. But a few minutes passed until from a fort on the shore a severe fire was opened on the moving boats. The Americans promptly returned the fire, with the result that the old Palos injured herself by the cannon kicking her sides out. The Monocacy also struck a rock and began to leak badly, but after hammering at the forts until they were all silenced, the squadron was able to return down the river and not greatly injured. Strange to say only one American was wounded and none were killed. It was a strong evidence of the poor marksmanship of Corean gunners.

Ten days were now allowed to pass before further action was taken, then the same force started up the river again, enlarged by twenty boats conveying a landing force of six hundred and fifty men. These were arranged in ten companies of infantry and seven pieces of artillery. The squadron proceeded up the river on the morning of the 10th of June, and soon after noon, having demolished and emptied the first fort, the troops were landed. The next day they began the march and soon reached another fortification which was deserted. Here all of the artillery was tumbled into the river and the fort was named Monocacy. In another hour, another citadel was reached, attacked, and conquered by the united efforts of the troops on shore and the vessels in the stream. The final charge of the American troops up a steep incline met a terrible reception. The Coreans fought with furious courage in hand to hand conflict. Finally the enemy was completely routed, some three hundred and fifty of them being killed. On the American side three were killed, and ten wounded. Before the day was over two more forts were captured. The result of the forty-eight hours on shore, of which only eighteen were spent in the field, was the capture of five forts, probably the strongest in the kingdom, fifty flags, and four hundred and eighty-one pieces of artillery. The work of destruction was carried on and made as thorough as fire, ax and shovel could make it, and this was all on Sunday, June 11.

Early on Monday morning the whole force was re-embarked in perfect order, in spite of the furious tide. The fleet moved down the stream with the captured colors at the mast heads, and towing the boats laden with the trophies of victory. Later in the day the men slain in the fight were buried on Boisee Island, and the first American graves rose on Corean soil.

Admiral Rodgers, having obeyed to the farthest limit the orders given him, and all hope of making a treaty being over, the fleet sailed for Chefoo on the 3rd of July, after thirty-five days’ stay in Corean waters.

“Our little war with the heathen,” as the New York Herald styled it, attracted slight notice in the United States. In China the expedition was looked upon as a failure and a defeat. The popular Corean idea was that the Americans had come to avenge the death of pirates and robbers, and after several battles had been so surely defeated that they dare not attempt the task of chastisement again.

When the mikado was restored to supreme power in Japan, and the department of foreign affairs was created, one of the first things attended to was to invite the Corean government to resume ancient friendship and vassalage. This summons, coming from a source unrecognized for eight centuries, and to a regent swollen with pride at his victory over the French and his success in extirpating the Christian religion, was spurned with defiance. An insolent and even scurrilous letter was returned to the mikado’s government. The military classes, stung with rage, formed a war party, but the cabinet of Japan vetoed the scheme and in October, 1873, Saigo, the leader of the war party, resigned and was returned to Satsuma to brood over his defeat.

In 1873 the young king of Corea attained his majority. His father Tai-wen Kun, the Regent, by the act of the king was relieved of office and his bloody and cruel lease of power came to an end. The young sovereign proved himself a man of some mental vigor and independent judgment, not merely trusting to his ministers, but opening important documents in person. He was ably seconded by his wife, to whom was born in the same year an heir to the throne.

The neutral belt of land, long inhabited by deer and tigers, had within the last few decades been overspread with squatters, brigands, and outlaws. The depredations of these border ruffians had become intolerable both to China and Corea. In 1875 Li Hung Chang sending a force of picked Chinese troops with a gunboat to the Yalu broke up the nest of robbers and allowed settlers to enter the land. Two years later the Peking government shifted its frontier to the Yalu River, and Corean and Chinese territory was separated only by flowing water. The neutral strip was no more.

In 1875 some sailors of one of the Japanese ironclads, landing near Kang-wa for water, were fired on by Corean soldiers under the idea that they were Americans or Frenchmen. The Japanese before this time had adopted uniforms of foreign style for their navy. Retaliating, the Japanese two days later stormed and dismantled the fort, shot most of the garrison, and carried the spoils to the ships. The news of this affair brought the wavering minds of both the peace and the war party of Japan to a decision. An envoy was dispatched to Peking to find out the exact relation of China to Corea, and secure her neutrality. At the same time another was sent with the fleet to the Han River, to make if possible a treaty of friendship and open ports. General Kuroda having charge of the latter embassy, with men of war, transports, and marines, reached Seoul February the 6th, 1876. About the same time a courier from Peking arrived in the capital, bearing the Chinese imperial recommendation that a treaty be made with the Japanese. The temper of the young king had been manifested long before this by his rebuking the district magistrate of Kang-wa for allowing soldiers to fire on peaceably disposed people, and ordering the offender to degradation and exile. Arinori Mori in Peking had received a written disclaimer of China’s responsibility over Corea, by which stroke of policy the Middle Kingdom freed herself from all possible claims of indemnity from France, the United States, and Japan.

After several days of negotiation the details of the treaty were settled, and on February 27 the treaty in which Chosen was recognized as an independent nation was signed and attested. The first Corean embassy which had been accredited to the mikado’s court since the Twelfth century, sailed from Fusan in a Japanese steamer, landing at Yokohama, May 29. By railroad and steam cars they reached Tokio, and on the first of June the envoy had audience of the mikado. For three weeks the Japanese amused, enlightened and startled their guests by showing them their war ships, arsenals, artillery, torpedoes, schools, buildings, factories, and offices, equipped with steam and electricity, the ripened fruit of the seed planted by Perry in 1854. All attempts of foreigners to hold any communication with them were firmly rejected by the Coreans. Among the callers with diplomatic powers from the outside world in 1881, each eager and ambitious to be the first in wresting the coveted prize of a treaty, were two British captains of men-of-war and a French naval officer, all of whom sailed away with rebuffs.

Under the new treaty Fusan soon became a bustling place of trade with a Japanese population of some two thousand. Public buildings were erected for the Japanese consulate, chamber of commerce, bank, steamship company, and hospitals. A newspaper was established, and after a few years of mutual contact at Fusan the Coreans, though finding the Japanese as troublesome as the latter discovered foreigners to be after their own ports were opened, with much experience settled down to endure them for the sake of a trade which was undoubtedly enriching the country. Gensan was opened May 1, 1880. An exposition of Japanese, European, and American goods was established for the benefit of trade with the Coreans.

Russia, England, France, Italy, and the United States all made efforts in the next few months to make treaties with Corea, and all were politely rejected. Early in 1881 Chinese and Japanese influence began to be enlisted in favor of the United States in the effort to make a treaty. Li Hung Chang, China’s liberal statesman, wrote a letter to a Corean gentleman in which he advised the country to seek the friendship of the United States. The Chinese secretary of legation at Tokio also declared to the Coreans that Americans were the natural friends of Asiatic nations, and should be welcomed. It began to look more hopeful for the United States to secure her treaty through the influence of the Chinese than that of the Japanese, on whom we had previously depended. One of the most important moves in the advancement of Corea’s civilization was the sending of a party of thirty-four prominent men to visit Japan, and further study the problem of how far western ideas were adapted to an oriental state. The leader of this party, after his return from Japan, was dispatched on a mission to China, where his conference was chiefly with Li Hung Chang. He had now a good opportunity of judging the relative merits of Japan and China. The results of this mission were soon apparent, for shortly after, eighty young men were sent to Tien-tsin where they began to diligently pursue their studies of western civilization as it had impressed itself on China in the arsenals and schools.

The spirit of progress made advance from the beginning of 1882, but discussion reached fever heat in deciding whether the favor of Japan or China should be most sought, and which foreign nation should be first admitted to treaty rights. An event not unlooked-for, increased the power of the progressionists. Kozaikai urged the plea of expulsion of foreigners in such intemperate language that he was accused of reproaching the sovereign. At the same time a conspiracy against the life of the king was discovered. Kozaikai was put to death, many of the conspirators were exiled, and the ringleaders were sentenced to be broken alive on the wheel. The progressionists had now the upper hand, and early in the spring two envoys went to Tien-tsin to inform Americans and Chinese that the Corean government was ready to make a treaty. Meanwhile Japanese officers were drilling the Corean soldiers in Seoul.

The American diplomatic agent, Commodore R.W. Shufeldt, arrived in the Swatara off Chemulpo May 7. Accompanied by three officers he went six miles into the interior, to the office of the Corean magistrate, to formulate the treaty. Two days afterward the treaty document was signed, in a temporary pavilion on a point of land opposite the ship. Both on the American and Corean side this result had been brought about only after severe toil and prolonged effort.

Four days after the signing of the American treaty, the crown-prince, a lad of nine years old, was married in Seoul. This year will be forever known as the year of the treaties. Within a few months treaties were signed by Corea with Great Britain, France, Germany, Italy and China. Within a week there appeared in the harbor of Chemulpo two American, three British, one French, one Japanese, one German and five Chinese armed vessels; all of them except the French had left by June 8, to the great relief of the country people, many of whom had fled to the hills when the big guns began to waste their powder in salutes.

The Japanese legation in Seoul now numbered about forty persons. They seemed to suspect no imminent danger, although the old fanatic and tyrant Tai-wen Kun was still alive and plotting. He was the centre of all the elements hostile to innovation, and being a man of unusual ability, was possessed of immense influence. During the nine years of his nominal retirement from office, this bigoted Confucianist who refused to know anything of the outer world waited his opportunity to make trouble. Just then the populace was most excited over the near presence of the foreigners at Chemulpo, the usual rainfall was withheld, and in the consequent drought the rice crop was threatened with total failure. The sorcerers and the anti-foreign party took advantage of the situation to play on the fears of the superstitious people. The spirits displeased at the intrusion of the western devils were angry, and were cursing the land.

While the king was out in the open air praying for rain July 23, a mob of sympathizers with the old regent attempted to seize him. The king escaped to the castle. Some mischief-maker then started the report that the Japanese had attacked the royal castle and had seized the king and queen. Forthwith the mob rushed with frantic violence upon the legation, murdering the Japanese policemen and students whom they met on the streets, and the Japanese military instructors in the barracks. Not satisfied with this, the rioters, numbering four thousand men, attacked and destroyed the houses of the ministers favoring intercourse. Many of the Mins and seven Japanese were killed. The Japanese legation attaches made a brave defence to the night attack which was made on them. Armed only with swords and pistols, the Japanese formed themselves into a circle, charged the mob, and cut their way through it. After an all night march through a severe storm, the little band fighting its way for much of the time, reached In-chiun at three o’clock the next day. The governor received them kindly and supplied food and dry clothing, then posting sentinels to watch so that the Japanese could get some rest. In an hour the mob attacked them there, and they were again compelled to cut their way out. They now made for Chemulpo, the seaport of the city, and about midnight, having procured a junk, they put to sea. The next morning they were taken on board a British vessel which was surveying the coast, and a few days later were landed at Nagasaki.

Without hesitation the Japanese government began preparations for a military and naval attack. Hanabusa, the minister to Corea and his suite were sent back to Seoul, escorted by a military force. He was received with courtesy in the capital whence he had been driven three weeks ago. The fleet of Chinese war ships was also at hand, and everything was apparently under the control of Tai-wen Kun, who now professed to be friendly to foreigners. At his audience with the king, Hanabusa presented the demands of his government. These were nominally agreed to, but several days passing without satisfactory action, Hanabusa having exhausted remonstrance and argument left Seoul and returned to his ship. This unexpected move, a menace of war, brought the usurper to terms. On receipt of Tai-wen Kun’s apologies, the Japanese envoy returned to the capital and full agreement was given to all the demands of Japan by the Corean government. The insurgents were arrested and punished, the heavy indemnity was paid, and an apology was sent by a special embassy to Japan. Within the next few days Tai-wen Kun was taken on board a Chinese ship at the orders of Li Hung Chang and taken to Tien-tsin. It is generally believed that this action was practically a kidnapping, but whether to rescue Tai-wen Kun from the dangers which threatened him or to maintain China’s old theory of sovereign control over Corean rulers it is hard to know.

The treaty negotiated with the United States was duly ratified by our senate, and Lucius H. Foote was appointed minister to Corea. General Foote reached Chemulpo in the United States steamship Monocacy May 13, and the formal ratifications of the treaty were exchanged in Seoul six days later. The guns of the Monocacy, the same which shelled the Han forts in 1870, fired the first salute ever given to the Corean flag. The king responded by sending to the United States an embassy of eleven persons led by Min Yong Ik and Hong Yong Sik, members respectively of the conservative and liberal parties.

Their interview with President Arthur was in the parlors of the Fifth Avenue Hotel, New York, on September 17. All the Coreans were dressed in their national custom, which they wore habitually while in America. After spending some weeks in the study of American Institutions in several cities, part of the embassy returned home by way of San Francisco, leaving one of their number at Salem, Mass., to remain as a student; while Min Yong Ik and two secretaries embarked on the United States steamship Trenton, and after visiting Europe, reached Seoul in June, 1884.

We have now reached a point in Corean history from which a continuance can be better made in a later chapter. Almost from the time of the return of the Corean embassy from the United States, the political ferment increased, until a few months after began the disorders which culminated ten years later in the present Japanese-Chinese war. These events will therefore be related in the chapter which is to follow, descriptive of the causes of the war, and the relations of the three oriental nations at the outbreak of hostilities.

GEOGRAPHY, GOVERNMENT, CLIMATE AND PRODUCTS OF COREA.

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Geographical Limits of Corea—Characteristics of the Coast Line—The Surface Configuration of the Country—Isolation Made Easy by the Character of its Boundaries—Rivers of the Peninsula—The Climate—Forests, Plants, and Animals—Products of the Soil and of the Mine—Extent of Foreign Trade—The Eight provinces of Corea, Their Extent, Cities, and History—Government of the Corean Kingdom—The Dignitaries and their Duties—Corruption in the Administration of Official Duties—Buying and Selling Office—The Executive and the Judiciary.

For many a year the country of Corea has been known in little more than name. Its territory is a peninsula on the east coast of Asia, between China on the continent, and the Japanese islands to the eastward. It extends from thirty-four degrees and thirty minutes to forty-three degrees north latitude, and from one hundred and twenty-four degrees and thirty minutes to one hundred and thirty degrees and thirty minutes east longitude, between the Sea of Japan and the Yellow Sea. The Yellow Sea separates it from the southern provinces of China, while the Sea of Japan and the Strait of Corea separate it from the Japanese islands. It has a coast line of about one thousand seven hundred and forty miles, and a total area of about ninety thousand square miles. The peninsula, with its outlying islands, is nearly equal in size to Minnesota or to Great Britain. In general shape and relative position to the Asiatic continent it resembles Florida. Tradition and geological indications lead to the belief that anciently the Chinese promontory and province of Shan-tung, and the Corean peninsula were connected, and that dry land once covered the space filled by the waters joining the Gulf of Pechili and the Yellow Sea. These waters are so shallow that the elevation of their bottoms but a few feet would restore their area to the land surface of the globe. On the other side also, the Sea of Japan is very shallow and the Straits of Corea at their greatest depth have but eighty-three feet of water.

The east coast is high, mountainous, and but slightly indented, with very few islands or harbors. The south and west shores are deeply and manifoldly scooped and fringed with numerous islands. From these island-skirted shores, especially on the west coast, mud banks extend out to sea beyond sight. While the tide on the east coast is very slight, only two feet at Gensan, it increases on the south and west coasts in a north direction, rising to thirty-three feet at Chemulpo. The rapid rise and fall of tides, and the vast area of mud left bare at low water, cause frequent fogs, and render the numerous inlets little available except for native craft. On the west coast the rivers are frozen in winter, but the east coast is open the whole winter through.

Quelpaert, the largest island, forty by seventeen miles, lies sixty miles south of the main land. Port Hamilton, between Quelpaert and Corea, was for a time an English possession, but in 1886 was given to China. The Russians are generally believed to have an overweening desire for the magnificent harbor of Port Lazaref on the east coast of the Corean mainland. In its policy of exclusion of all foreigners, the government has had its tasks facilitated by the inaccessible and dangerous nature of the approaches to the coast. The high mountain ranges and steep rocks of the east coast, and the thousands of islands, banks, shoals and reefs extending for miles into the sea on the western and southern shores, unite to make approach exceedingly difficult, even with the best charts and surveys at hand.

In the middle of the northern boundary of Corea, is the most notable natural feature of the peninsula. It is a great mountain, the colossal Paik-tu or “ever white” mountain, as it is known from the snow that rests upon its summit. When the Manchoorians pushed the Coreans farther and farther back, they reached this mountain, which marked the natural barrier which they were able to make their permanent boundary line. According to native account, which in Corea is seriously believed, the highest peak of this mountain reaches the moderate elevation of forty-four miles. It is famous as the birthplace of Corean folk lore, and a great deal that is mythical hangs about it still. On the top of the peak is a lake thirty miles in circumference. From this lake flow two streams, one to the north-east, the Tumen, which enters the Sea of Japan; and the other to the south-west, the Yalu river, which flows into the Corean bay at the head of the Yellow Sea. Corea is therefore in reality an island. These two rivers and the lake forming the northern boundary are about four hundred and sixty miles from the ocean at the southern end of the peninsula. The greatest width of the country is three hundred and sixty miles and its narrowest about sixty miles.

The Tumen river separates Corea from Manchooria, except in the last few miles of its course, when it flows by Russian territory, the south-eastern corner of Siberia. The Yalu river also divides Corea from Manchooria. The rivers of Corea are not of great importance except for drainage and water supply, being navigable but for short distances. On the west coast the chief rivers are the Yalu, the Ching-chong, the Tatong, the Han, the Kum; the Yalu is navigable for about one hundred and seventy miles and is by far the greatest of all in the peninsula. The Han is navigable to a little above Seoul, eighty miles; the Tatong to Ping-Yang, seventy-five miles; and the Kum is navigable for small boats for about thirty miles. In the south-eastern part of the peninsula the Nak-tong is navigable for small boats to a distance of one hundred and forty miles. The Tumen river, which forms the north-eastern boundary between Corea and Siberia, is not navigable except near the mouth. It drains a mountainous and rainy country. Ordinarily it is shallow and quiet, but in spring its current becomes very turbulent and swollen.