KOREA'S FIGHT FOR FREEDOM
"Mr. F.A. McKenzie has been abused in the columns of the Japanese press_
with a violence which, in the absence of any reasoned controversy,
indicated a last resource. In answer to his specific charges, only one word
has been uttered--'lies!'
"Yet these charges embrace crimes of the first magnitude--murder, plunder,
outrage, incendiarism, and in short all the horrors that make up tyranny of
the worst description. It is difficult to see how Mr. McKenzie's sincerity
could be called into question, for he, too, like many other critics of the
new Administration, was once a warm friend and supporter of Japan.
"In those days, his contributions were quoted at great length in the
newspapers of Tokyo, while the editorial columns expressed their
appreciation of his marked capacity. So soon, however, as he found fault
with the conditions prevailing in Korea, he was contemptuously termed a
'yellow journalist' and a 'sensation monger.'"--_From "Empires of the Far
East" by F. Lancelot Lawson. London. Grant Richards_.
"Mr. McKenzie was perhaps the only foreigner outside the ranks of
missionaries who ever took the trouble to elude the vigilance of the
Japanese, escape from Seoul into the interior, and there see with his own
eyes what the Japanese were really doing. And yet when men of this kind,
who write of things which come within scope of personal observation and
enquiry, have the presumption to tell the world that all is not well in
Korea, and that the Japanese cannot be acquitted of guilt in this context,
grave pundits in Tokyo, London and New York gravely rebuke them for
following their own senses in preference to the official returns of the
Residency General. It is a poor joke at the best! Nor is it the symptom of
a powerful cause that the failure of the Japanese authorities to 'pacify'
the interior is ascribed to 'anti-Japanese' writers like Mr.
McKenzie."--_From "Peace and War in the Far East," by E.J. Harrison.
Yokohama. Kelly and Walsh_.
Korea's Fight for
Freedom
By
F.A. McKENZIE
_Author of "The Tragedy of Korea," "The
Unveiled East," "Through the
Hindenburg Line" etc._
1920
Preface
The peaceful uprising of the people of Korea against Japan in the spring of
1919 came as a world surprise. Here was a nation that had been ticketed and
docketed by world statesmen as degenerate and cowardly, revealing heroism
of a very high order.
The soldier facing the enemy in the open is inspired by the atmosphere of
war, and knows that he has at least a fighting chance against his foe. The
Koreans took their stand--their women and children by their side--without
weapons and without means of defense. They pledged themselves ahead to show
no violence. They had all too good reason to anticipate that their lot
would be the same as that of others who had preceded them--torture as
ingenious and varied as Torquemada and his familiars ever practiced.
They were not disappointed. They were called on to endure all that they had
anticipated, in good measure, pressed down and running over. When they were
dragged to prison, others stepped into their place. When these were taken,
still others were ready to succeed them. And more are even now waiting to
join in the dreadful procession, if the protests of the civilized world do
not induce Japan to call a halt.
It seems evident that either the world made a mistake in its first estimate
of Korean character, or these people have experienced a new birth. Which is
the right explanation? Maybe both.
To understand what has happened, and what, as I write, is still happening,
one has to go back for a few years. When Japan, in face of her repeated
pledges, annexed Korea, her statesmen adopted an avowed policy of
assimilation. They attempted to turn the people of Korea into Japanese--an
inferior brand of Japanese, a serf race, speaking the language and
following the customs of their overlords, and serving them.
To accomplish this better, the Koreans were isolated, not allowed to mix
freely with the outer world, and deprived of liberty of speech, person and
press. The Japanese brought certain material reforms. They forgot to supply
one thing--justice. Men of progressive ideas were seized and imprisoned in
such numbers that a new series of prisons had to be built. In six years the
total of prisoners convicted or awaiting trial doubled. The rule of the big
stick was instituted, and the Japanese police were given the right to flog
without trial any Korean they pleased. The bamboo was employed on scores of
thousands of people each year, employed so vigorously as to leave a train
of cripples and corpses behind. The old tyranny of the yang-ban was
replaced by a more terrible, because more scientifically cruel, tyranny of
an uncontrolled police.
The Japanese struck an unexpected strain of hardness in the Korean
character. They found, underneath the surface apathy, a spirit as
determined as their own. They succeeded, not in assimilating the people,
but in reviving their sense of nationality.
Before Japan acquired the country, large numbers of Koreans had adopted
Christianity. Under the influence of the teachers from America, they became
clean in person, they brought their women out from the "anpang" (zenana)
into the light of day, and they absorbed Western ideas and ideals. The
mission schools taught modern history, with its tales of the heroes and
heroines of liberty, women like Joan of Arc, men like Hampden and George
Washington. And the missionaries circulated and taught the Bible--the most
dynamic and disturbing book in the world. When a people saturated in the
Bible comes into touch with tyranny, either one of two things happens, the
people are exterminated or tyranny ceases.
The Japanese realized their danger. They tried, in vain, to bring the
Churches under Japanese control. They confiscated or forbade missionary
textbooks, substituting their own. Failing to win the support of the
Christians, they instituted a widespread persecution of the Christian
leaders of the north. Many were arrested and tortured on charges which the
Japanese Courts themselves afterwards found to be false. The Koreans
endured until they could endure no more. Not the Christians alone, but men
of all faiths and all classes acted as one. The story of their great
protest, of what led up to it, and the way in which it was met, is told in
this book.
To the outsider, one of the most repulsive features of the Japanese method
of government of Korea is the wholesale torture of untried prisoners,
particularly political prisoners. Were this torture an isolated occurrence,
I would not mention it. There are always occasional men who, invested with
authority and not properly controlled, abuse their position. But here
torture is employed in many centres and on thousands of people. The
Imperial Japanese Government, while enacting paper regulations against the
employment of torture, in effect condones it. When details of the inhuman
treatment of Christian Korean prisoners have been given in open court, and
the victims have been found innocent, the higher authorities have taken no
steps to bring the torturers to justice.
The forms of torture freely employed include, among others:--
1. The stripping, beating, kicking, flogging, and outraging of schoolgirls
and young women.
2. Flogging schoolboys to death.
3. Burning--the burning of young girls by pressing lighted cigarettes
against their tender parts, and the burning of men, women and children by
searing their bodies with hot irons.
4. Stringing men up by their thumbs, beating them with bamboos and iron
rods until unconscious, restoring them and repeating the process, sometimes
several times in one day, sometimes until death.
5. Contraction--tying men up in such fashion as to cause intense suffering.
6. Confinement for long periods under torturing conditions, as, _e.g._,
where men and women are packed so tightly in a room that they cannot lie or
sit down for days at a stretch.
In the latter chapters of this book I supply details of many cases where
such methods have been employed. Where it can safely be done, I give full
names and places. In many instances this is impossible, for it would expose
the victims to further ill treatment. Sworn statements have been made
before the American Consular authorities covering many of the worst events
that followed the 1919 uprising. These are now, I understand, with the
State Department at Washington. It is to be hoped that in due course they
will be published in full.
* * * * *
When my book, "The Tragedy of Korea," was published in 1908, it seemed a
thankless and hopeless task to plead for a stricken and forsaken nation.
The book, however, aroused a wide-spread and growing interest. It has been
more widely quoted and discussed in 1919 than in any previous year. Lawyers
have argued over it in open court; statesmen have debated parts of it in
secret conferences, Senates and Parliaments. At a famous political trial,
one question was put to the prisoner, "Have you read the 'Tragedy of
Korea'?" It has been translated into Chinese.
At first I was accused of exaggeration and worse. Subsequent events have
amply borne out my statements and warnings. The book has been for a long
time out of print, and even second-hand copies have been difficult to
obtain. I was strongly urged to publish a new edition, bringing my
narrative up to date, but I found that it would be better to write a new
book, including in it, however, some of the most debated passages and
chapters of the old. This I have done.
Some critics have sought to charge me with being "anti-Japanese." No man
has written more appreciatively of certain phases of Japanese character and
accomplishments than myself. My personal relations with the Japanese, more
especially with the Japanese Army, left me with no sense of personal
grievance but with many pleasant and cordial memories. My Japanese friends
were good enough to say, in the old days, that these agreeable
recollections were mutual.
I have long been convinced, however, that the policy of Imperial expansion
adopted by Japan, and the means employed in advancing it, are a grave
menace to her own permanent well-being and to the future peace of the
world. I am further convinced that the militarist party really controls
Japanese policy, and that temporary modifications which have been recently
announced do not imply any essential change of national plans and
ambitions. If to believe and to proclaim this is "anti-Japanese," then I
plead guilty to the charge. I share my guilt with many loyal and patriotic
Japanese subjects, who see, as I see, the perils ahead.
In this book I describe the struggle of an ancient people towards liberty.
I tell of a Mongol nation, roughly awakened from its long sleep, under
conditions of tragic terror, that has seized hold of and is clinging fast
to, things vital to civilization as we see it, freedom and free faith, the
honour of their women, the development of their own souls.
I plead for Freedom and Justice. Will the world hear?
F.A. McKENZIE.
Contents
I. OPENING THE OYSTER
II. JAPAN MAKES A FALSE MOVE
III. THE MURDER OF THE QUEEN
IV. THE INDEPENDENCE CLUB
V. THE NEW ERA
VI. THE RULE OF PRINCE ITO
VII. THE ABDICATION OF YI HYEUNG
VIII. A JOURNEY TO THE "RIGHTEOUS ARMY"
IX. WITH THE REBELS
X. THE LAST DAYS OF THE KOREAN EMPIRE
XI. "I WILL WHIP YOU WITH SCORPIONS"
XII. THE MISSIONARIES
XIII. TORTURE A LA MODE
XIV. THE INDEPENDENCE MOVEMENT
XV. THE PEOPLE SPEAK--THE TYRANTS ANSWER
XVI. THE REIGN OF TERROR IN PYENG-YANG
XVII. GIRL MARTYRS FOR LIBERTY
XVIII. WORLD REACTIONS
XIX. WHAT CAN WE DO?
I
OPENING THE OYSTER
Up to the last quarter of the nineteenth century, Korea refused all
intercourse with foreign nations. Peaceful ships that approached its
uncharted and unlit shores were fired upon. Its only land approach, from
the north, was bounded by an almost inaccessible mountain and forest
region, and by a devastated "No Man's Land," infested by bandits and river
pirates. When outside Governments made friendly approaches, and offered to
show Korea the wonders of modern civilization, they received the haughty
reply that Korea was quite satisfied with its own civilization, which had
endured for four thousand years.
Even Korea, however, could not keep the world entirely in the dark about
it. Chinese sources told something of its history. Its people were the
descendants of Ki-tzse, a famous Chinese sage and statesman who, eleven
hundred years before Christ, moved with his tribesmen over the river Yalu
because he would not recognize or submit to a new dynasty that had usurped
power in China. His followers doubtless absorbed and were influenced by
still older settlers in Korea. The result was a people with strong national
characteristics, different and distinct from the Chinese on the one side
and the Japanese on the other.
We knew that, as Korea obtained much of its early knowledge from China, so
it gave the younger nation of Japan its learning and industries. Its people
reached a high stage of culture, and all records indicate that in the days
when the early Briton painted himself with woad and when Rome was at her
prime, Korea was a powerful, orderly and civilized kingdom. Unhappily it
was placed as a buffer between two states, China, ready to absorb it, and
Japan, keen to conquer its people as a preliminary to triumph over China.
In the course of centuries, it became an inbred tradition with the Japanese
that they must seize Korea. Hideyoshi, the famous Japanese Regent, made a
tremendous effort in 1582. Three hundred thousand troops swept over Korea,
capturing city after city, and driving the Korean forces to the north.
Korea appealed to China for aid, and after terrible fighting, the Japanese
were driven back. They left a Korea in ruins, carrying off everything they
could, and destroying all they could not carry off. They kidnapped, among
others, the skilled workmen of Korea, and made them remain in Japan and
carry on their industries there.
Hideyoshi's invasion is of more than historic interest Korea has never
recovered the damage then done. The Japanese desire for Korea, thwarted for
the moment, smouldered, waiting for the moment to burst afresh into flame.
The memories of their terrible sufferings at the hands of the Japanese
ground into the Koreans a hatred of their neighbour, handed down
undiminished from generation to generation, to this day.
Korea might have recovered, but for another and even more serious handicap.
A new dynasty, the House of Yi, succeeded to the Korean throne over five
centuries ago, and established a rule fatal to all progress. The King was
everything, and the nation lived solely for him. No man was allowed to
become too rich or powerful. There must be no great nobles to come together
and oppose these kings as the Norman Barons fought and checked the Norman
Kings of England.
No man was allowed to build a house beyond a certain size, save the King.
The only way to wealth or power was by enlisting in the King's service. The
King's governors were free to plunder as they would, and even the village
magistrate, representing the King, could freely work his will on those
under him. The King had his eyes everywhere. His spies were all over the
land. Let yang-ban (official or noble) however high show unhealthy ambition
or seek to conceal anything from the royal knowledge and he would be called
to Court and broken in an hour, and would count himself fortunate if he
escaped with his life.
The Korean people are eminently pacific. Up to a point, they endure hard
thing's uncomplainingly. It would have been better for them had they not
suffered wrongs so tamely. The Yi method of government killed
ambition--except for the King's service--killed enterprise and killed
progress. The aim of the business man and the farmer was to escape notice
and live quietly.
Foreigners attempted, time after time, to make their way into the country.
French Catholic priests, as far back as the end of the eighteenth century,
smuggled themselves in. Despite torture and death, they kept on, until the
great persecution of 1866 wiped them and their converts out. This
persecution arose because of fear of foreign aggression.
A Russian war vessel appeared off Broughton's Bay, demanding on behalf of
Russians the right of commerce. The King at this time was a minor, adopted
by the late King. His father, the Tai Won Kun, or Regent, ruled in his
stead. He was a man of great force of character and no scruples. He slew in
wholesale fashion those who dared oppose him. He had the idea that the
Christians favoured the coming of the foreigner and so he turned his wrath
on them. The native Catholics were wiped out, under every possible
circumstance of brutality, and with them perished a number of French
Catholic priests. By one of those contradictions which are constantly
happening in real life, the crew of an American steamer, the _Surprise_,
who were wrecked off the coast of Whang-hai that year were treated with all
possible honour and consideration, and were returned home, through
Manchuria, officials conducting them and the people coming out to greet
them as they travelled through the land.
The French Minister at Peking determined on revenge for the death of the
priests. A strong expedition was sent to the Han River, and attacked the
forts on the Kangwha Island. The Korean troops met them bravely, and
although the French obtained a temporary success, thanks to their modern
weapons, they were in the end forced to retire.
An American ship, the _General Sherman_, set out for Korea in 1866, sailing
from Tientsin for the purpose, it was rumoured, of plundering the royal
tombs at Pyeng-yang. It entered the Tai-tong River, where it was ordered to
stop. A fight opened between it and the Koreans, the latter in their dragon
cloud armour, supposed to be impervious to bullets, sending their fire
arrows against the invaders. The captain, not knowing the soundings of the
river, ran his ship ashore. The Koreans sent fire boats drifting down the
river towards the American ship. One of them set the _General Sherman_ in
flames. Those of the crew who were not burned on the spot were soon
slaughtered by the triumphant Korean soldiers. A more disreputable
expedition, headed by a German Jew, Ernest Oppert and an American called
Jenkins, left Shanghai in the following year, with a strong fighting crew
of Chinese and Malays, and with a French missionary priest, M. Feron, as
guide. They landed, and actually succeeded in reaching the royal tombs near
the capital. Their shovels were useless, however, to remove the immense
stones over the graves. A heavy fog enabled them to carry on their work for
a time undisturbed. Soon an angry crowd gathered, and they had to return to
their ship, the _China_. They were fortunate to escape before the Korean
troops came up. The American consular authorities in Shanghai placed
Jenkins on trial, but there was not enough evidence to convict him.
The killing of the crew of the _General Sherman_ brought the American
Government into action. Captain Shufeldt, commander of the _Wachusset_, was
ordered to go to Korea and obtain redress. He reached the mouth of the Han
River, and sent a message to the King, asking an explanation of the matter.
He had to retire, owing to weather conditions, before the reply arrived.
The Korean reply, when eventually delivered, was in effect a plea of
justification. The Americans, however, determined to inflict punishment,
and a fleet was sent to destroy the forts on the Han River.
The American ships, the _Monacacy_ and the _Palos_ bombarded the forts. The
Korean brass guns, of one and one-half inch bore, and their thirty
pounders, could do nothing against the American howitzers, throwing eight
and ten inch shells. The American Marines and sailors landed, and in
capturing a hill fort, had a short, hot hand-to-hand battle with the
defenders. The Koreans fought desperately, picking up handfuls of dust to
fling in the eyes of the Americans when they had nothing else to fight
with. Refusing to surrender they were wiped out. Having destroyed the forts
and killed a number of the soldiers, there was nothing for the Americans to
do but to retire. The "gobs" were the first to admit the real courage of
the Korean soldiers.
Japan, which herself after considerable internal trouble, had accepted the
coming of the Westerner as inevitable, tried on several occasions to renew
relations with Korea. At first she was repulsed. In 1876 a Japanese ship,
approaching the Korean coast, was fired on, as the Japanese a generation
before had fired on foreign ships approaching their shore. There was a
furious demand all over the country for revenge. Ito and other leaders with
cool heads resisted the demand, but took such steps that Korea was
compelled to conclude a treaty opening several ports to Japanese trade and
giving Japan the right to send a minister to Seoul, the capital. The first
clause of the first article of the treaty was in itself a warning of future
trouble. "Chosen (Korea) being an independent state enjoys the same
sovereign rights as does Japan." In other words Korea was virtually made to
disown the slight Chinese protectorate which had been exercised for
centuries.
The Chinese statesmen in Peking watched this undisturbed. They despised the
Japanese too much to fear them, little dreaming that this small nation was
within less than twenty years to humble them in the dust. Their real fear
at this time was not Japan but Russia. Russia was stretching forth
throughout Asia, and it looked as though she would try to seize Korea
itself. And so Li Hung-chang advised the Korean rulers to guard themselves.
"You must open your doors to other nations in order to keep out Russia," he
told them. At the same time it was intimated to Ministers in Peking,
particularly to the American Minister, that if he would approach the
Koreans, they would be willing to listen. Commodore Shufeldt was made
American Envoy, and an American-Korean Treaty was signed at Gensan on May
22, 1882. It was, truth to tell, a somewhat amateurish production, and had
to be amended before it was finally ratified. It provided for the
appointment of diplomatic and Consular officials, and for the opening of
the country to commerce. A treaty with Britain was concluded in the
following year, and other nations followed.
One clause in the American Treaty was afterwards regarded by the Korean
ruler as the sheet anchor of his safety, until storm came and it was found
that the sheet anchor did not hold.
There shall be perpetual peace and friendship between the
President of the United States and the King of Chosen and the
citizens and subjects of their respective Governments. 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 feelings.
All of the treaties provided for extra-territoriality in Korea, that is to
say that the foreigners charged with any offence there should be tried not
by the Korean Courts but by their own, and punished by them.
Groups of adventurous foreigners soon entered the country. Foreign
ministers and their staffs arrived first. Missionaries, concession hunters,
traders and commercial travellers followed.
They found Seoul, the capital, beautifully placed in a valley surrounded by
hills, a city of royal palaces and one-storied, mud-walled houses, roofed
with thatch--a city guarded by great walls. Statesmen and nobles and
generals, always surrounded by numerous retinues in glorious attire, ambled
through the narrow streets in dignified procession. Closed palanquins,
carried by sturdy bearers, bore yet other dignitaries.
The life of the city revolved round the King's Court, with its four
thousand retainers, eunuchs, sorcerers, blind diviners, politicians and
place hunters. The most prominent industry--outside of politics--was the
making of brass ware, particularly of making fine brass mounted chests. The
average citizen dressed in long flowing white robes, with a high,
broad-brimmed, black gauze hat. Hundreds of women were ever busy at the
river bank washing these white garments.
Women of good family remained at home, except for one hour after dark, when
the men retired from the streets and the women came out. Working women went
to and fro, with their faces shielded by green jackets thrown over their
heads. Their usual dress was a white skirt coming high up and a very short
jacket. The breasts and the flesh immediately below the breasts were often
freely displayed. Fishing and farming supported ninety per cent of the
population, and the Korean farmer was an expert. At sunset the gates of
Seoul were closed, and belated wayfarers refused admission until morning.
But there was no difficulty in climbing over the city walls. That was
typical. Signal fires at night on the hills proclaimed that all was well.
The Koreans were mild, good natured, and full of contradictory
characteristics. Despite their usual good nature, they were capable of
great bursts of passion, particularly over public affairs. They often
looked dirty, because their white clothes soiled easily; yet they probably
spent more time and money over external cleanliness than any other Asiatic
people. At first, they gave an impression of laziness. The visitor would
note them sleeping in the streets of the cities at noon. But Europeans soon
found that Korean labourers, properly handled, were capable of great
effort. And young men of the cultured classes amazed their foreign teachers
by the quickness with which they absorbed Western learning.
The land was torn, at the time of the entry of the foreigners, by the
rivalry of two great families--the Yi's, the blood relatives of the King,
and the Mins, the family of the Queen. The ex-Regent was leader of the
Yi's. He had exercised absolute power for many years during the King's
minority, and attempted to retain power even after he ceased to be Regent.
But he reckoned without the Queen. She was as ambitious as the Regent. The
birth of a son greatly improved and strengthened her authority, and she
gradually edged the Regent's party out of high office. Her brother, Min
Yeung-ho, became Prime Minister; her nephew, Min Yung-ik, was sent as
Ambassador to the United States. The Regent was anti-foreign; the Queen
advocated the admission of foreigners. The Regent tried to strengthen his
hold by a very vigorous policy of murder, attempting the death of the Queen
and her relatives. One little incident was an effort to blow up the Queen.
But Queen Min was triumphant every time. The King, usually weak and easily
moved, really loved the Queen, refused to be influenced away from her, and
was dominated by her strong character.
In the summer of 1881 there was a famine in the land. The Regent's agents
were busy everywhere whispering that the spirits were angry with the nation
for admitting the foreigner, and that Queen Min had brought the wrath of
the gods on them. The National Treasury failed, and many of the King's
soldiers and retainers were ready for any trouble. A great mob gathered in
the streets. It first attacked and murdered the King's Ministers, and
destroyed their houses. Then it turned against the King's palace.
Word came to the Queen's quarters that the rioters were hammering at the
gates and would soon be on her. The palace guards had weakened, and some
had even joined the people. Queen Min was calm and collected. She quickly
changed clothes with one of her serving women, who somewhat resembled her
in appearance. The serving woman, dressed in the robes of the Queen, was
given a draught of poison and died.
The Queen hurried out through a side way, in peasant woman's dress, guarded
by a water carrier, Yi Yung-ik, who for his services that day rose till he
finally became Prime Minister of the land. When the crowd broke into the
Queen's private apartments, they were shown the corpse and told that it was
the Queen, who had died rather than face them.
The crowd swept on and attacked the Japanese Legation. The Minister,
Hanabusa, and his guard, with all the civilians who could reach the
place--the rest were murdered--fought bravely, keeping the mob back until
the Legation building was set afire. Then they battled their way through
the city to the coast. The survivors--twenty-six out of forty--set to sea
in a junk. They were picked up at sea by a British survey ship, the _Flying
Fish_, and conveyed to Nagasaki.
There was, naturally, intense anger in Japan over this incident and loud
demands for war. A little more than three weeks after, Hanabusa returned to
Seoul with a strong military escort. He demanded and obtained punishment of
the murderers, the honourable burial of the Japanese dead, an indemnity of
400,000 yen, and further privileges in trade for the Japanese.
Meanwhile China, Korea's usually apathetic suzerain power, took action. Li
Hung-chang sent 4,000 troops to Seoul to maintain order. The Regent, now
humble and conciliatory, attempted to put blame for the outbreak on others.
But that did not save him. The Chinese, with elaborate courtesy, invited
him to a banquet and to inspect their ships. There was one ship, in
particular, to which they called his honourable attention. They begged him
to go aboard and note the wonders of the apartments below. The Regent went.
Once below, he found the door shut, and could hear the ropes being thrown
off as the ship hastily departed. It was in vain for him to call for his
attendants and warriors waiting on the shore.
They took him to China, and Li Hung-chang sent him into imprisonment and
exile for three years, until it was deemed safe to allow him to return.
II
JAPAN MAKES A FALSE MOVE
For hundreds of years it was the ambition of Japan to replace China as the
Protector of Korea. It was the more mortifying, therefore, that the
Hanabusa incident served to strengthen China's authority. It gave Peking an
excuse to despatch and maintain a considerable force at Seoul, for the
first time for hundreds of years.
The Japanese tried to turn the affair to their advantage by demanding-still
more concessions. The Korean rulers found it hard to refuse these
determined little men. So they adopted a policy of procrastination, arguing
endlessly. Now Japan was in a hurry, and could not wait.
The Japanese Minister at Seoul at this time was Takezoi, timid and
hesitating constitutionally, but, like many timid folk, acting at times
with great rashness. Under him was a subordinate of stronger and rougher
type, Shumamura, Secretary to the Legation. Shumamura kept in touch with a
group of Cabinet Ministers who had been to Japan and regarded Japan as
their model. They mourned together over the growth of Chinese power, and
agreed that it was threatening the independence of the country. They
repeated the rumour that a secret treaty had actually been signed by the
King, recognizing Chinese supremacy in more binding form than ever before.
They felt that the Queen was against them. Her nephew, Min Yung-ik, had
been on their side when he returned from America. Now, under her influence,
he had taken the other side.
Kim Ok-kiun, leader of the malcontents, was an ambitious and restless
politician, eager to have the control of money. One of his chief supporters
was Pak Yung-hyo, relative of the King, twenty-three years old, and a
sincere reformer. Hong Yung-sik, keen on foreign ways, was a third. He was
hungry for power. He was the new Postmaster General, and a building now
being erected in Seoul for a new post-office was to mark the entry of Korea
into the world's postal service. So Kwang-pom, another Minister, was
working with them.
Kim Ok-kiun and Shumamura had long conferences. They discussed ways and
means. The reformers were to overthrow the reactionaries in the Cabinet by
the only possible way, killing them; they were then in the King's name to
grant Japan further commercial concessions, and the Japanese were to raise
a considerable loan which should be handed over to Kim for necessary
purposes.
Takezoi was on a visit to Tokyo when his deputy and the Korean came to an
understanding. They were rather anxious to have the whole thing through
before his return, for they knew, as every one knew, that Takezoi was not
the best man for a crisis. But when the Minister returned from Tokyo there
was none so bold as he. He boasted to his friends that Japan had at last
resolved to make war on China, and that every Chinaman would soon be driven
out of the land. He received Kim and heard of his plans with satisfaction.
There would be no trouble about money. A few Japanese in Seoul itself would
arrange all that was necessary. Let the thing be done quickly.
It had been customary for the Legations only to drill their soldiers in
daytime, and to inform the Government before they were taken out to public
places. But one night Takezoi had his Japanese troops turned out, marched
up the great hill, Namzan, commanding the city, and drilled there. When
asked why he did it, he cheerfully replied that he had just made an
experiment to see how far he could startle the Chinese and Koreans; and he
was quite satisfied with the result.
He sought an interview with the King. He had brought back the 400,000 yen
which Japan had exacted as indemnity for the Hanabusa outrage. Japan
desired Korea's friendship, he declared, not her money. He also brought a
stand of Japanese-made rifles, a gift from the Emperor to the King, and a
very significant gift, too. The Minister urged on the King the helpless
condition of China, and the futility of expecting assistance from her, and
begged the King to take up a bold position, announce Korea's independence
and dare China's wrath. The King listened, but made no pledges.
Kim and the Japanese Secretary called in their allies, to discuss how to
strike. One scheme proposed was that they should send two men, disguised as
Chinese, to kill two of the Ministers they had marked as their victims.
Then they would charge the other Ministers with the deed and kill them.
Thus they would get rid of all their enemies at a blow. A second plan was
that Kim should invite the Ministers to the fine new house he had built,
should entertain them and then kill them. Unfortunately for Kim, the
Ministers were not willing to come to his house. He had invited them all to
a grand banquet shortly before, and only a few had accepted.
"Make haste!" urged Shumamura. "Japan is ready for anything." At last some
one hit on a happy scheme. Twenty-two young Koreans had been sent to Japan
to learn modern military ways, and had studied at the Toyama Military
School at Tokyo. Returning home, they had given an exhibition of their
physical drill and fencing before the King, who was as delighted with them
as a child with a new toy. He had declared that he would have all his army
trained this way. The leader of the students, So Jai-pil, nephew of one of
the King's favourite generals, was made a Colonel of the Palace Guard,
although only seventeen years old. But despite the King, the old military
leaders, whose one idea of martial ardour was to be carried around from one
point to another surrounded with bearers and warriors who made a loud noise
to impress the crowd, shuddered at the idea of reform, and managed to block
it. The students were kicking their heels idly around the palace. Here were
the very lads for the job. Appeal to their patriotism. Let them do the
killing, and their seniors take the glory. And so it was decided.
The Japanese were talking so boastingly that it would be surprising if the
Chinese had learned nothing. At the head of the Chinese troops was Yuan
Shih-kai, afterwards to prove himself the strongest man in the Middle
Kingdom and to overthrow the Manchu dynasty. He said nothing, but it does
not follow that he did nothing. At a dinner given to the Foreign
Representatives, the Interpreter to the Japanese Legation delivered a
speech in Korean on the shameless unscrupulousness and cowardice of the
Chinese. He even went so far as to call them "sea slugs," giving a
malicious glance at the Chinese Consul-General while he spoke. The Chinese
official did not know Korean, but he could understand enough of the speech
to follow its import.
The plans were now complete. Every victim had two assassins assigned to
him. The occasion was to be the opening of the new post-office, when Hong
Yung-sik would give an official banquet to which all must come. During the
dinner, the detached palace was to be set on fire, a call was to be raised
that the King was in danger, and the reactionary Ministers were to be
killed as they rushed to his help. Two of the students were appointed
sentries, two were to set fire to the palace, one group was to wait at the
Golden Gate for other members of the Government who tried to escape that
way. Four young Japanese, including one from the Legation, were to act as a
reserve guard, to complete the killing in case the Koreans failed. The
Commander of the Palace Guard, a strong sympathizer, posted his men in such
a way as to give the conspirators a free hand. The Japanese Minister
promised that his soldiers would be ready to cooperate at the right time.
On the afternoon of December 4th, the Japanese Legation people busied
themselves with fetching ammunition and provisions from the barracks. In
the afternoon a detachment of soldiers came over. They knew that the deed
was to be done that night.
The dinner was held, according to plan. It was a singularly harmonious
gathering--up to a point. Many were the jokes and pointed was the wit. The
gesang (geisha), spurred by the merriment of their lords, did more than
ever to amuse the guests. The drink was not stinted.
Then there came a call of "Fire!" It was the duty of Min Yung-ik, as
General Commanding the right Guard Regiment, to keep the custody of the
fire apparatus. Deploring his rough luck in being called to duty at such a
time, he left the hall and, surrounded by his braves and attendants, who
were waiting for him in the anteroom, made his way to his yungmun, or
official residence. When he was near the post-office five young men, armed
with sharp swords, suddenly broke through his guard, killed one of the
soldiers and attacked the Minister. "He received seven sword slashes, all
great ones, two all but taking his head off," wrote a contemporary
chronicler. He staggered back into the banqueting hall, blood pouring from
him. There was at once great confusion. The Ministers not in the plot,
fearing that some ill was intended against them, threw away their hats of
state, turned their coats, and concealed themselves amongst their coolies.
Fortunately for Min, just as the palace doctors were about to attempt to
stop his wounds by pouring boiling wax on them, a modern surgeon came
hurrying up. He was Dr. Allen, an American Presbyterian missionary, the
first to arrive in Korea. He did such good work on his patient that night
that King and Court became friends of the missionaries for ever on.
Leaving the banqueting hall, Pak Yung-kyo and his companions at once
hurried to the palace, informed the King that a Great Event had happened,
and told him that he and the Queen must go with them for their safety. They
took him to the Tai Palace, near at hand. Here they were at once surrounded
by the Japanese troops, by the students, and some 800 Korean soldiers,
under General Han Kiu-chik, who commanded one of the four regiments of the
Palace Guard.
The King and Queen were of course accompanied by their own attendants. The
Chief Eunuch, who was among them, took General Han on one side. "This is a
very serious matter," he urged. "Let us send for General Yuan and the
Chinese." General Han apparently weakened and agreed. There was no
weakening on the part of the students. The Chief Eunuch and the General
were "one by one withdrawn from the King's presence" and when outside were
promptly despatched. Then the King was bidden to write notes to his chief
anti-Progressive Ministers, summoning them to his presence. As they
arrived, "one by one, each in his turn, was despatched by the students and
his body thrown aside."
The King called for the Japanese Minister. At first he would not come.
Finally he appeared. He had arranged that most of the work was to be done
without his presence, in order to avoid diplomatic trouble. A number of
edicts had been drawn up which the King was obliged to sign. All kinds of
reforms were commanded, and the land was made on paper, in an hour, into a
modern state. The reformers did not forget their own interests. Hong
Yung-sik, the Postmaster General, was made Prime Minister, Kim Ok-kiun was
made second officer of the Royal Treasury, and the lad So Jai-pil, on whom
the chief command of the students and Korean soldiers now devolved, was
made General Commanding a Guard Regiment.
In answer to his urgent entreaties, the King was allowed next morning to
return to his palace, the Japanese and the Progressives accompanying him.
It was soon clear, even to the reformers, that they had gone too far. As
news of the affair became known, the people made their sentiments felt in
unmistakable fashion. Odd Japanese in the streets were killed, others made
their way to the Legation and shut themselves in there, while the Japanese
Minister and the Progressives were hemmed in the palace by an angry mob.
They were short of ammunition. The Japanese had twenty-five rounds a man,
the twenty-two students had fifteen rounds apiece, and the eight hundred
Korean soldiers either had none or destroyed what they had. There was
plenty in the Legation but the mob barred the way. General So Jai-pil (to
give him his new title) was on the move day and night, going from outpost
to outpost, threatening and encouraging weaklings, and arranging and
inspiring his men.
The affair started on the evening of December 4th; the reformers remained
in the palace until the afternoon of December 7th. Then General Yuan
Shih-kai, the Chinese leader, approached the palace gates and sent in his
card, demanding admission. The Queen had already smuggled a message out to
him begging his aid. The Japanese soldiers on guard refused to allow him to
enter. He gave warning that he would attack. He had 2,000 Chinese troops
and behind them were fully 3,000 Korean soldiers and the mass of the
population.
Takezoi weakened. He did not want to risk an engagement with the Chinese,
and he declared that he would withdraw his Guard, and take them back to his
Legation. Young General So drew his sword threateningly, and told him that
they must stay and see it through. The Japanese captain in command of the
troops was as eager for a fight as was So, and the Minister was for the
time overruled.
A great fight followed. The Chinese sought to outflank the reformers, and
to force an entry by climbing over the walls. One of the personal
attendants of the King suddenly attacked the new Premier, Hong Yung-sik,
and slew him. The Korean soldiers seemed to disappear from the scene as
soon as the real fighting started, but the students and the Japanese did
valiantly. They claimed that they shot fully three hundred Chinese. The
great gate of the palace still held, in spite of all attacks. But the
ammunition of the defenders had at last all gone.
"Let us charge the Chinese with our bayonets," cried So. The Japanese
captain joyfully assented. But Takezoi now asserted his authority. He
pulled from his pocket his Imperial warrants giving him supreme command of
the Japanese in Korea and read them to the captain. "The Emperor has placed
you under my command," he declared. "Refuse to obey me and you refuse to
obey your Emperor. I command you to call your men together and let us all
make our way back to the Legation." There was nothing to do but obey.
While the Chinese were still hammering at the front gate, the Japanese and
reformers crept quietly around by the back wall towards the Legation. The
people in the building, hearing this mass of men approach in the dark,
unlit street, thought that they were the enemy, and opened fire on them. A
Japanese sergeant and an interpreter were shot down on either side of
General So. Not until a bugle was sounded did the Japanese inside the
building recognize their friends. The party staggered in behind the
barricades worn out. So, who had not closed his eyes for four days, dropped
to the ground exhausted and slept.
He did not awake until the next afternoon. He heard a voice calling him,
and started up to find that the Japanese were already leaving. They had
resolved to fight their way to the sea. "I do not know who it was called
me," said So, afterwards. "Certainly it was none of the men in the
Legation. I sometimes believe that it must have been a voice from the other
world." Had he wakened five minutes later, the mob would have caught him
and torn him to bits.
The Japanese blew up a mine, and, with women and children in the centre,
flung themselves into the maelstrom of the howling mob. The people of Seoul
were ready for them. They had already burned the houses of the Progressive
statesmen, Kim, Pak, So and Hong. They tried, time after time, to rush the
Japanese circle. The escaping party marched all through the night, fighting
as it marched. At one point it had to pass near a Chinese camp. A cannon
opened fire on it. At Chemulpo, the coast port twenty-seven miles from
Seoul, it found a small Japanese mail steamer, the _Chidose Maru_. The
Koreans who had escaped with the party were hidden. Before the _Chidose_
could sail a deputation from the King arrived, disclaiming all enmity
against the Japanese, but demanding the surrender of the Koreans. Takezoi
seemed to hesitate, and the reformers feared for the moment that he was
about to surrender them. But the pockmarked captain of the _Chidose_ drove
the deputation from the side of his ship, in none too friendly fashion, and
steamed away.
The reformers landed in Japan, expecting that they would be received like
heroes, and that they would return with a strong army to fight the Chinese.
They did not realize that the revolutionist who fails must look for no
sympathy or aid.
The Japanese Foreign Minister at first refused even to see them. When at
last they secured an audience, he told them bluntly that Japan was not
going to war with China over the matter. "We are not ready yet," said he.
He then demanded of the reformers what they were going to do with
themselves. This was too much for So Jai-pil. His seniors tried to restrain
him, but in vain, "What way is this for Samurai to treat Samurai?" he hotly
demanded. "We trusted you, and now you betray and forsake us. I have had
enough of you. I am going to a new world, where men stand by their bonds
and deal fairly with one another. I shall go to America."
A few weeks later he landed in San Francisco, penniless. He knew scarcely
any English. He sought work. His first job was to deliver circulars from
door to door, and for this he was paid three dollars a day. He attended
churches and meetings to learn how to pronounce the English tongue. He
saved money enough to enter college, and graduated with honours. He became
an American citizen, taking a new form of his name, Philip Jaisohn. He
joined the United States Civil Service and in due course was made a doctor
of medicine by Johns Hopkins University. He acquired a practice at
Washington, and was lecturer for two medical schools. Later on, he was
recalled to his native land.
The Korean reformers themselves saw, later on, the folly of their attempt.
"We were very young," they say. They were the tools of the Japanese
Minister, and they had inherited a tradition of political life which made
revolt seem the natural weapon by which to overthrow your enemies. They
learned wisdom in exile, and some of them were subsequently to reach high
rank in their country's service.
There is a sequel to this story. The King and the Court regarded Kim
Ok-kiun as the unpardonable offender. Other men might be forgiven, for
after all attempted revolts were no novelties. But there was to be no
forgiveness for Kim.