Customs Centering around the Top-Knot--Christians
Sacrificing their Top-Knots--A Cruel Blow--Beginning of
Christian Work in Koksan--A Pathetic Appeal--People Baptize
Themselves--Hard-hearted Cho--The King’s Escape--People Rally
around Him--Two Americans in the Interior--In the Midst of a
Mob--Mob Fury--Korea in the Arms of Russia--Celebrating the
King’s Birthday--Patriotic Hymns--Lord’s Prayer in Korean.
Many of the most revered, common, and firmly settled of the customs
and superstitions of the people of Korea are, as it were, woven,
braided, coiled and pinned into their top-knots, on which, like a hairy
keystone, seem to hang, and round which are centered society, religion
and politics. The pigtail of China is nothing like as important, for
it is really a mark of servitude, or was such in its origin, a badge
laid on the conquered by the conquering race. But not so the top-knot,
which is many centuries old, and which, according to ancient histories,
pictures, pottery and embroideries, goes as far back as the existence
of the nation.
When a boy becomes engaged, or is on the point of being married, a
solemn ceremony is performed. In the presence of proper witnesses,
and at the hands of proper functionaries (among whom are astrologers
or soothsayers), the hair, which has hitherto been parted like a
girl’s and worn in a long braid down the back, is shaved from a small
circular spot on the top of his head, and the remaining long locks
combed smoothly upward, and tied very tightly over the shaved place.
They are then twisted and coiled into a small compact knot, between
two and three inches high and about one in diameter. An amber, coral,
silver, or even gold or jewelled pin is usually fastened through it.
The _Mangan_, a band of net, bound with ribbon, is then fastened on
round the head below the top-knot and above the ears, holding all stray
hairs neatly in place (when a man obtains rank a small open horse-hair
cap is placed over the top-knot), and over all the hat, which (being
also of open work, bamboo splints, silk or horsehair) permits it to be
seen. Fine new clothes are then donned, especially a long coat, and the
boy has become a man! A feast is made, and he goes forth to call upon
and be congratulated by his father’s friends. Either on that day or the
following he is married, although, as has been said, some boys have
their hair put up when they become engaged.
No matter how old one is, without a top-knot he is never considered
a man, addressed with high endings, or treated with respect. After
assuming the top-knot, no matter how young, he is invested with the
dignities and duties of a man of the family, takes his share in making
the offerings and prayers at the ancestral shrines, and is recognized
by his ancestors’ spirits as one of the family who is to do them honor,
and whom they are to protect and bless. And right here, to digress a
little, it is interesting to note that so intimately is this custom
concerned with their religion that many of the Christian converts are
now cutting off their top-knots when they become converted, regarding
that as the one step (after destroying their idols) which most
effectually cuts off the old life and its superstitions, and marks them
as having come out from their family and acquaintances as men set apart.
They have begun doing this quite of their own accord, with no
suggestion from the missionaries, and in some cases in opposition to
the advice of some of us, who dislike to see them laying aside old
customs needlessly. But it is growing more and more general among new
believers to sacrifice this dear object of pride and veneration, and
one young fellow told my husband it was impossible to break away from
his old evil associates until he cut his hair. They then believed he
was in earnest and let him alone. But it costs much, and in these cases
is done quite voluntarily, not in forced obedience to the mandates of
conquerors and traitors, which is a very different matter.
Again, far down in the social scale, lower than the boy with the
pigtail, whom every one snubs, ranking next to the despised butcher,
who daily defiles his hands with blood and gore, and with the touch
of dead bodies, is the Buddhist priest _who wears his hair shaved_, a
creature so low, that he was not at that time allowed to defile the
capital city by entering its gates. To this grade were all the sons of
Korea now to be reduced. Tender associations of early manhood, honored
family traditions, ghostly superstition, the anger and disgust of
ancestral spirits, the iron grip of long custom, the loathing of the
effeminate, sensual and despised Buddhist priests, all forbade this
desecration. Their pride, self-respect and dignity were all assailed
and crushed under foot. Sullen angry faces were seen everywhere, sounds
of wailing and woe were heard continually in every house, for the women
took it even harder than the men. Farmers and carriers of food and
fuel refused to bring their produce to market, for guards stood at the
gates, and cut off with their swords every top-knot as it came through.
Men were stationed also in all the principal streets, cutting off every
top-knot that passed, and all public officials and soldiers were at
once shaved. There was a voice heard, lamentation and mourning and
great weeping.
It was a cruel blow at personal liberty, which Anglo-Saxons would die
rather than suffer, and which the helplessness of this weak nation made
the more pitiful and inexcusable. It was struck shrewdly too, at one
of the specially distinguishing marks of Koreans, setting them apart
from Japanese and Chinese, designed, we could not help thinking, as
one of the first and important parts of a scheme to blot out Korea’s
national identity, and merge her into one with Japan; but if this was
the intention, never was anything more mistakenly planned. It was hotly
resented to the very heart of the country, and added still deeper dye
and bitter flavor to the long-nourished hatred Koreans felt for their
ancient conqueror and foe. As for us (some of us), we put ourselves
in the Korean’s place, recalled our national experience and harbored
numbers of Koreans on our place, protecting them from the knife as long
as possible. The cup of iniquity was nearly full. The queen, looked
upon as the mother of her people, had been murdered, the king virtually
imprisoned, the country ruled by the dictum of conspirators and tools
of her conquerors, and now this last blow at every family in the nation
was too much. A deep spirit of anger and revolt stirred the whole
country; yet they had no leaders, no arms, no organization and knew not
what to do, a poor down-trodden simple folk, who knew not on whom to
lean for help, and who had not learned to cry to him who hears, defends
and takes up the cause of the poor and needy.
Bands of Tonghaks again ranged the country, insurrections broke out
in various localities, some of the shaved magistrates who went to the
country were sent back by the mobs, who refused to receive them as
rulers, some were actually killed, and the magistracies destroyed, the
soldiers were powerless to subdue the disturbances, and things seemed
to be growing from bad to worse. Marines were ordered to the legations
from Chemulpo (where there were many foreign gunboats and war vessels),
and no one knew what next to expect, when suddenly an entire change in
the whole situation took place.
But now I must return for a while to other matters. In the district
of Koksan, in northern Whang Hai Do (Yellow Sea Province), about two
hundred miles north from Seoul, a very interesting Christian work had
started, as so much of our work has, through God’s own direct dealings
with the people, by his word and Spirit. A man from that place having
come up to Seoul on business, and receiving some small kindness from
Mr. Underwood, which he desired to acknowledge, felt that he could do
nothing more delicately complimentary and grateful than to make a show
of interest in his “doctrine,” and so bought four gospels in Chinese,
which he took home in his pack, and forthwith shelved unread. Here they
remained for months, I am not sure how long.
Finally one day, a friend noticed them, took them down, all grimy with
dust, and asked what they were and whence they came. The owner replied
that he had never read them, but that they were books containing a
new doctrine taught by foreigners in Seoul. Dr. Cho’s curiosity was
aroused, he borrowed, took them home and fell to reading with more
and more avidity the further he proceeded. I would not give up the
priceless heritage of Christian ancestry, the struggles, prayers and
victories of godly forefathers, and all that Christian training from
one generation to another for centuries means, but yet I would give
much to have been able once to read the four gospels as that heathen
read them, with no preconceived opinions, no discolorations of red,
green or even blue theological glasses, no criticisms or commentaries
of “Worldly Wisemen,” or bigoted fanatics, reading their own ideas
between the lines, but with an absolutely unbiased mind so as to be
able to receive that wonderful revelation as a sweet glad surprise;
sentence after sentence, truth after truth blooming into sudden glory,
where the darkness of ignorance had reigned.
One almost envies that heathen his compensations. He received the
word with joy, wondered and adored. Here was a man well read in the
philosophical teachings, the empty husks of Confucianism and Buddhism,
but who had never heard one word from any Christian teacher. Here was a
mind free from prejudice, and this was the result of contact with God’s
Word. He believed and accepted it for God’s truth with all his heart,
and gave himself unreservedly to Christ, turning completely away from
his old superstitions and systems of philosophy. Quickly the good news
spread, not more from his glad telling of his new-found joy than from
the wonderful change in the man himself.
Others also soon believed, and an appeal was sent to Seoul for
some one to come and teach them more, lest something should remain
misunderstood, or unfulfilled of their dear Lord’s commands. But in
Seoul, and elsewhere, workers were few, hands were reaching out from
all directions for help, the Macedonian cry was ringing pathetically
from many quarters, the harvest great, the laborers few. The Bible must
be translated, work already started must be cared for and watched, in
a word, there was no one who could go. Again and again came that call,
and at last a letter which brought tears to our eyes. “Why,” said they,
“will no one come to help us, is no one willing to teach us, have we
so far sunk in sin that God will not allow us to have salvation?”
Mr. Underwood started almost at once, with Dr. Avison, about one month
after the promulgation of the laws for cutting the top-knots. The
excitement had somewhat abated in the city, and the call from Koksan
admitted of no delay. Making short stops along the road for medical and
evangelistic work, going on foot, they reached Koksan about three weeks
after leaving Seoul.
[Illustration: RUSSIAN LEGATION HOUSE. PAGE 174
[Illustration: INDEPENDENCE ARCH. PAGE 38]
They found a little company of earnest simple-hearted believers, who
had thrown away their idols, ceased their ancestor worship, and were
in all things, as far as they knew, obeying the Lord. But “the washing
rite,” as baptism was translated, puzzled them. “_He that believeth and
is baptized shall be saved._” What then was this? They pondered and
studied. God showed them it was in some way a sign of washing from sin,
and when after long waiting, no teacher came, they agreed that each
going to his own home should wash himself in the name of the Father,
the Son and the Holy Ghost, praying for himself and his brethren, that
if in anything they had sinned in this rite, God would forgive them.
And so the missionaries found them, and though for the sake of due
order they were baptized in the prescribed way, it was felt that in
God’s sight it had already been done.
When for the first time they all sat down to commemorate the Lord’s
death in the service of bread and wine, there was not a dry eye in the
room. Tears streamed from the face of Dr. Cho, and later one of his
neighbors said, when speaking in an experience meeting, “Old Cho, known
as ‘hard-hearted Cho,’ who as a boy never uttered a cry when his father
flogged him, who never wept when he laid his aged mother in the grave,
whose eyes never moistened when his beloved wife died, or when he
buried his eldest son, on whose cheek man never saw a tear, Cho weeps.
What miracle has brought tears to his eyes?”
While Dr. Avison and Mr. Underwood were in Koksan, wondering and
worshiping over the proofs of how God blesses his word, applied to
simple hearts, startling things were taking place in Seoul. The king,
who had now been four months helpless in the hands of his enemies,
suddenly made good his escape to the Russian legation!
The story, as we heard it from one near the king, was as follows:
Wearied and sick at heart of affairs of state, his majesty retired to
the women’s apartments, where he spent his entire time, escaping thus
to some extent the detestable espionage of his enemies, who delegated
two elderly women, one the wife of the Tai Won Kun, and another, whose
duty it was to watch his majesty in turn, one by day, the other by
night. Their vigilance was, however, in some way sufficiently eluded,
so that a plan for the royal prisoner’s escape was arranged with two of
the palace women, which was successfully carried out as follows:
On a certain birthday festival, both of the duennas who, as was said,
took turns, watching and sleeping, were invited to celebrate with
the king, and to partake of a great feast, with plenty of wine and
prolonged amusements. All night the king’s watchers revelled, both
falling into a heavy sleep before dawn. This is the story, but I like
to think that as one of the women was probably the king’s mother, her
heart was tender toward her unhappy son, and that she purposely relaxed
her watch. It would gild a little the long dark tale of all that
preceded to find a touch of sweet human affection right here. At any
rate, when every one in the palace was off guard, supposing the king
and crown prince asleep, they entered a couple of women’s chairs which
were waiting. The bearers of these chairs had been specially selected
and paid with a view to their carrying two, and thought nothing of it,
as the palace women often went out to their homes in this way. So in
each chair a woman sat in front of its royal occupant, screening him
from view should any one glance in. The sentinels at the gate had been
provided with hot refreshments and plenty of strong drink, and were so
fully occupied that the chairs with their valuable burden passed out
unnoticed and unhindered. They were expected at the Russian legation,
where one hundred and sixty marines from the port had just been called
up, and there they speedily made their way, arriving at about seven or
eight in the morning of February 11, 1896.
This meant the downfall of the usurpers. With the king’s person went
all their claim to authority and power, and it also meant that Japanese
influence in Korean affairs was over for a time, and that the country
had been almost thrown into the arms of Russia, by the short-sighted
policy of the minister, who had desired to “establish the prestige of
Japan.”
As our compound was very close to the Russian legation, and fronting
on the same street, we were soon aware that something very unusual had
occurred. The whole road, as far as the eye could reach, was filled
with a surging mob of soldiers, commoners, and the chairs and retainers
of the nobility. Guards and sentinels were stationed every few paces
along our street, and there was a loud and almost terrifying babel of
shouting voices, in the din and confusion of which it was impossible to
distinguish anything. I sent at once for one or two of Mr. Underwood’s
writers and literary helpers, who told me that the king had arrived a
short while before at the Russian legation, and had assumed the reins
of government, and that the army, officials and people were rallying
around him, each anxious to precede the other in protestations of
loyalty and devotion.
Then I thought rather busily for a few seconds. My first reflection
of course was, “How will this affect the absent missionaries?” How
would it affect Japanese (now distrusted) and through them all
foreigners in the interior? Would the people in the country not be
likely to wreak the vessels of their wrath upon them, and would they
discriminate between them and others wearing similar clothing? I
feared not, and that the probabilities were that Dr. Avison and Mr.
Underwood might be in considerable danger, as soon as the news of the
king’s escape, and the fall of the pro-Japanese party became known.
Word must then be sent, and soon, in order if possible to reach them
before the news reached the natives. I sent a letter to our very kind
friend, the Russian minister, with a message to his majesty, inquiring
whether anything could be done for the protection and safe return
of the two missionaries. I knew an immediate reply could hardly be
expected, such was the rush of business, and the number of visitors
and claimants on their time, so, to leave no means untried, I called
up one of the copyists, informed him of the necessity for speed, and
had the satisfaction of seeing him start that very hour with a letter
and warning message to my husband. A short time after, fearing that
something might occur to detain one messenger, I sent another by a
different road. The second man was stopped by Tonghaks, looking for
foreigners, who for some reason suspected him, searched him, ripped
open his clothes, where they found my letter (which of course they
could not read), and forced him to go back to Seoul.
On the day following that on which my messengers had started, a kind
letter from the Russian legation came, saying that the king would at
once send a guard to Koksan to bring back the two Americans, and at
about the same time, a wealthy nobleman in Songdo, a friend of both,
and brother-in-law of General Yun, knowing where they were, and fearing
for them, also sent a special posse of men to see them safely home.
Having done all that I could, the most difficult of all tasks, that of
waiting, remained, but I remembered that I had a sister in the same
situation, only that she probably was not quite as well informed as
myself of the exact state of affairs, and did not know that any word
had been sent to our husbands. The street running in front of our house
was packed with excited people, but I decided to make my way through
them in my chair and go down to Mrs. Avison, where she was living at
a long distance from the rest of us, and try to set her mind at rest
by telling her what measures had been taken for the safety of the
absentees, and of what was happening at our end of the town. I soon
passed the crowd in our neighborhood, who were in no way concerned with
me, and in a little while reached the great street, which runs toward
the palace, and crosses that on which the hospital and Dr. Avison’s
home stood.
As we reached the corner, I saw a great mob of the roughest and wildest
looking men, with flushed faces and dishevelled hair. They came tearing
towards us shouting to each other, “The Japanese soldiers are coming,
they are firing. Run, run, run!” I did not fancy the company of these
gentlemen any more than their looks, nor did I care to be a target
for Japanese troops, who were supposed to be chasing them. So I also
adjured my chair coolies with some emphasis to “run.” The whole mob
came sweeping round the corner, into the thoroughfare on which we
were. It was not a dignified or desirable situation, a Presbyterian
missionary in the midst of a wild scramble, and with a panic-stricken
crowd of roughs escaping for dear life, from the avengers of justice,
but there was no help for it. My coolies needed no urging, they were
as anxious to get away as any of us, but they certainly deserved great
credit, that under the circumstances they did not leave me to my fate,
and try to save only themselves. A few moments running brought us to
the hospital gates, where we turned in hastily, and were safe. It was
not cold, and yet I found myself shivering like an aspen. Strange!
Mrs. Avison and I were soon laughing, however, over my late escapade,
and as soon as my errand was finished I hurried home another way, none
too soon, for the streets were full of angry-looking men, some of whom
scowled at me, and muttered, “foreigner.” That night we learned that
two of the pro-Japanese cabinet had been killed on the street and torn
to pieces by the mob; that mob which, having finished its awful work,
accompanied me down the street that afternoon. A young Japanese was
also stoned to death on the street that day. In a few days Dr. Avison
and Mr. Underwood were with us quite safe. My faithful and fleet-footed
messenger had taken a short cut, and reached Koksan in an amazingly
short time.
The news filled our husbands with anxiety for us, not knowing how far
mob violence might go, and they made the distance of near two hundred
miles in sixty hours, walking nearly all the way (the pack-ponies go
much too slow), sleeping only an hour or so at night, and eating as
they walked. They missed both the king’s guard and the posse from
Songdo, which had taken a different road, but met many poor frightened
natives along the road, who knew not where to turn or to whom to look
for protection, with Tonghaks on the one hand and pro-Japanese on
the other. Later we heard of many sad tales of Japanese citizens,
overtaken in the country, who were very summarily dealt with by the
exasperated people. Japanese troops were sent by their minister to
bring back all who could be found, and large sums were demanded from
the Korean government in payment for the lives thus sacrificed. To
which demand, it has been suggested, the reply might have been made,
“Who is to indemnify Korea for the life of her queen?”
Thus ended for a time the unhappy reign of the Japanese, which, after
their victories over the Chinese, had seemed to begin so auspiciously,
and which, had they been contented with a temperate and conciliating
policy, would probably have grown stronger and stronger.
The king remained for a year at the Russian legation, where he was
treated with the truest courtesy, for instead of being in any way
coerced or influenced for the benefit of Russian interests, he was
allowed the most perfect liberty and interfered with in no particular.
To such an extent did the true gentleman who acted as the king’s host
carry his scruples, that he refused to advise his majesty in any way
even when requested to do so. On the occasion of the king’s birthday,
which came in September, it occurred to my husband that it would be
a good opportunity to give the Christians a chance to express their
loyalty, and at the same time advertise Christianity more widely than
ever before at one time. The idea did not occur until a day or two
before the time when we were reminded that the royal birthday was close
at hand.
The time was short, but permission was obtained to use a large
government building near the Independence Arch, which would hold over
one thousand people, and advertised widely that a meeting of prayer and
praise would be held there by the Christians to celebrate the king’s
birthday. A platform was erected, the building draped with flags, and
speakers obtained, among whom were members of the cabinet, several
gifted Koreans, and foreign missionaries.
He sat up all night preparing tracts, of which thousands were printed
at the M. E. Mission Press for that special occasion, and also a hymn,
to be set to the tune “America.”
I.
For my dear country’s weal,
O God to Thee I pray,
Graciously hear.
Without Thy mighty aid
Our land will low be laid.
Strengthen Thou this dear land,
Most gracious Lord.
II.
Long may our great king live,
This is our prayer to-day
With one accord.
His precious body guard,
Keep it from every ill.
Heavenly Lord and King,
Grant him Thy grace.
III.
By Thy almighty power,
Our royal emperor
Has been enthroned.
Thy Holy Spirit grant
Our nation never fail.
Long live our emperor,
Upheld by Thee.
IV.
For this Thy gracious gift,
Our independence, Lord,
Bless we thy name.
This never ceasing be,
While as a people we,
Nobles and commons all,
United pray.
V.
To Thee, the only Lord,
Maker and King Divine,
We offer praise.
When all shall worship Thee,
Happy our land shall be,
Powerful, rich and free,
Beneath Thy smile.
Early in the day Christian men and boys were distributing copies of the
tract and hymns throughout the whole city, and long before the hour of
meeting men of all classes began flocking toward that vicinity, and
when the speakers and missionaries arrived it was almost impossible
to obtain access. The building was soon packed with a solid mass of
standing people, and all the wide exits were thronged, the steps and
the immediate vicinity.
The services were opened with prayer, addresses (mainly religious) were
made, hymns were sung, and finally were closed by the Lord’s prayer,
repeated in concert. It was thrilling to hear those words repeated
reverently by so large a number of people.
I will give an interlinear translation of the prayer, so that readers
may know just what are the words used by Korean Christians:
Hanalau Kaysin oori abbachi-sin jah yeh, Ihrahme keruk
_Our Father, who art in heaven, hallowed_
hahsime natanah op se myh, narahhe im haopse myh, tutse
_be Thy name. Thy kingdom come. Thy_
Hanalaya-saw chirum dahaysoh deh iroyohgeita, onal nal
_will be done on earth as it is in heaven. Give_
oori ai gay il young hal yang sik eul, choo apsego, oori ga
_us this day our daily bread. And_
oorigay teuk chay han charal, sah hayah choonan kot
_forgive us our debts as_
katchi, oori chayral, sah hayah chu up se myh. Oori ga
_we forgive our debtors, and lead_
seeheumay teul jee mal kay hah up seego, tahman, ooriral,
_us not into temptation, but_
heung ak ay saw, ku ha ap soh soh. Tai kay, nara wha,
_deliver us from evil, for Thine_
quansay wha, eing guanqhi, choo kay, eng wani it
_is the kingdom, and the power, and the glory,_
sa-ap-nay-ita Amen.
_for ever. Amen._