military operations on the continent of Asia and as a field for emigration.
The first steps under the new administration were in the direction of
perfecting communications throughout the country, so as to enable the
troops to be moved easily and rapidly from point to point. A railway had
already been built from Fusan to Seoul, and another was in course of
completion from Seoul to Wi-ju, thus giving a trunk line that would carry
large numbers of Japanese soldiers from Japan itself to the borders of
Manchuria in about thirty-six hours. A loan of 10,000,000 yen was raised on
the guarantee of the Korean Customs, and a million and a half of this was
spent on four main military roads, connecting some of the chief districts
with the principal harbours and railway centres. Part of the cost of these
was paid by the loan and part by special local taxation. It may be pointed
out that these roads were military rather than industrial undertakings. The
usual methods of travel and for conveying goods in the interior of Korea
was by horseback and with pack-ponies. For these, the old narrow tracks
served, generally speaking, very well. The new roads were finely graded,
and were built in such a manner that rails could be quickly laid down on
them and artillery and ammunition wagons rapidly conveyed from point to
point. Another railway was built from Seoul to Gensan, on the east coast.
The old Korean "Burglar Capture Office," the native equivalent to the Bow
Street Runners, or the Mulberry Street detectives, was abolished, as were
the local police, and police administration was more and more put in the
hands of special constables brought over from Japan. The Japanese military
gendarmerie were gradually sent back and their places taken by civilian
constables. This change was wholly for the good. The gendarmerie had earned
a very bad reputation in country parts for harshness and arbitrary conduct.
The civilian police proved themselves far better men, more conciliatory,
and more just.
One real improvement instituted by the Residency-General was the closer
control of Japanese immigrants. Numbers of the worst offenders were laid by
the heels and sent back home. The Residency officials were increased in
numbers, and in some parts at least it became easier for a Korean to obtain
a hearing when he had a complaint against a Japanese. The Marquis Ito spoke
constantly in favour of a policy of conciliation and friendship, and after
a time he succeeded in winning over the coöperation of some of the
foreigners.
It became more and more clear, however, that the aim of the Japanese was
nothing else than the entire absorption of the country and the destruction
of every trace of Korean nationality. One of the most influential Japanese
in Korea put this quite frankly to me in 1906. "You must understand that I
am not expressing official views," he told me. "But if you ask me as an
individual what is to be the outcome of our policy, I only see one end.
This will take several generations, but it must come. The Korean people
will be absorbed by the Japanese. They will talk our language, live our
life, and be an integral part of us. There are only two ways of colonial
administration. One is to rule over the people as aliens. This you British
have done in India, and therefore your Empire cannot endure. India must
pass out of your rule. The second way is to absorb the people. This is what
we will do. We will teach them our language, establish our institutions,
and make them one with us."
The policy of the new administration towards foreigners was one of gradual,
but no less sure, exclusion. Everything that could be done was done to rob
the white man of what prestige was yet left to him. Careful and systematic
efforts were made, in particular, by the Japanese newspapers and some of
the officials to make the native Christian converts turn from their
American teachers, and throw in their lot with the Japanese. The native
press, under Japanese editorship, systematically preached anti-white
doctrines. Any one who mixed freely with the Korean people heard from them,
time after time, of the principles the Japanese would fain have them learn.
I was told of this by ex-Cabinet Ministers, by young students, and even by
native servants. One of my own Korean "boys" put the matter in a nutshell
to me one day. He raised the question of the future of Japan in Asia, and
he summarized the new Japanese doctrines very succinctly. "Master," he said
to me, "Japanese man wanchee all Asia be one, with Japanese man topside.
All Japanese man wanchee this; some Korean man wanchee, most no wanchee;
all Chinaman no wanchee."
It may be thought that the Japanese would at least have learnt from their
experience in 1895 not to attempt to interfere with the dress or personal
habits of the people. Nothing among all their blunders during the earlier
period was more disastrous to them than the regulations compelling the men
to cut off their topknots. These did Japan greater harm among the common
people than even the murder of the Queen. Yet no sooner had Japan
established herself again than once more sumptuary regulations were issued.
The first was an order against wearing white dress in wintertime. People
were to attire themselves in nothing but dark-coloured garments, and those
who refused to obey were coerced in many ways. The Japanese did not at once
insist on a general system of hair-cutting, but they brought the greatest
pressure to bear on all in any way under their authority. Court officials,
public servants, magistrates, and the like, were commanded to cut their
hair. Officials were evidently instructed to make every one who came under
their influence have his topknot off. The Il Chin Hoi, the pro-Japanese
society, followed in the same line. European dress was forced on those
connected with the Court. The national costume, like the national language,
was, if possible, to die. Ladies of the Court were ordered to dress
themselves in foreign style. The poor ladies in consequence found it
impossible to show themselves in any public place, for they were greeted
with roars of derision.
The lowered status of the white in Korea could be clearly seen by the
attitude of many of the Japanese towards him. I heard stories from friends
of my own, residents in the country, quiet and inoffensive people that made
my blood boil. It was difficult, for instance, to restrain one's
indignation when a missionary lady told you of how she was walking along
the street when a Japanese soldier hustled up against her and deliberately
struck her in the breast. The Roman Catholic bishop was openly insulted and
struck by Japanese soldiers in his own cathedral, and nothing was done. The
story of Mr. and Mrs. Weigall typifies others. Mr. Weigall is an Australian
mining engineer, and was travelling up north with his wife and assistant,
Mr. Taylor, and some Korean servants, in December, 1905. He had full
authorizations and passports, and was going about his business in a
perfectly proper manner. His party was stopped at one point by some
Japanese soldiers, and treated in a fashion which it is impossible fully to
describe in print. They were insulted, jabbed at with bayonets, and put
under arrest. One soldier held his gun close to Mrs. Weigall and struck her
full in the chest with his closed fist when she moved. The man called them
by the most insulting names possible, keeping the choicest phrases for the
lady. Their servants were kicked. Finally they were allowed to go away
after a long delay and long exposure to bitter weather, repeated insults
being hurled after them. The British authorities took up this case. There
was abundant evidence, and there could be no dispute about the facts. All
the satisfaction, however, that the Weigalls could obtain was a nominal
apology.
Then there was the case of the Rev. Mr. McRae, a Canadian missionary living
in northeastern Korea. Mr. McRae had obtained some land for a mission
station, and the Japanese military authorities there wanted it. They drove
stakes into part of the property, and he thereupon represented the case to
the Japanese officials, and after at least twice asking them to remove
their stakes, he pulled them up himself. The Japanese waited until a
fellow-missionary, who lived with Mr. McRae, had gone away on a visit, and
then six soldiers entered his compound and attacked him. He defended
himself so well that he finally drove them off, although he received some
bad injuries, especially from the blows from one of the men's rifles.
Complaint was made to the chief authorities, and, in this case, the
Japanese promised to punish the officer concerned. But there were dozens of
instances affecting Europeans of all ranks, from consular officials to
chance visitors. In most cases the complaints were met by a simple denial
on the part of the Japanese. Even where the offence was admitted and
punishment was promised, the Europeans would assure you that the men, whom
it had been promised to imprison, came and paraded themselves outside their
houses immediately afterwards in triumph. In Korea, as in Formosa, the
policy was and is to humiliate the white man by any means and in any way.
Two regulations of the Japanese, apparently framed in the interests of the
Koreans, proved to be a dangerous blow at their rights. New land laws were
drawn up, by which fresh title-deeds were given for the old and complicated
deeds of former times. As the Koreans, however, pointed out, large numbers
of people held their land in such a way that it was impossible for them to
prove their right by written deeds. Until the end of 1905 large numbers of
Koreans went abroad to Honolulu and elsewhere as labourers. The
Residency-General then framed new emigration laws, nominally to protect the
natives, which have had the result of making the old systematic emigration
impossible. Families who would fain have escaped the Japanese rule and
establish themselves in other lands had every possible hindrance put in
their way.
Act after act revealed that the Japanese considered Korea and all in it
belonged to them. Did they want a thing? Then let them take it, and woe be
to the man who dared to hinder them! This attitude was illustrated in an
interesting fashion by a bit of vandalism on the part of Viscount Tanaka,
Special Envoy from the Mikado to the Korean Emperor. When the Viscount was
in Seoul, late in 1906, he was approached by a Japanese curio-dealer, who
pointed out to him that there was a very famous old Pagoda in the district
of P'ung-duk, a short distance from Song-do. This Pagoda was presented to
Korea by the Chinese Imperial Court a thousand years ago, and the people
believed that the stones of which it was constructed possessed great
curative qualities. They named it the "Medicine King Pagoda" (Yakwang Top),
and its fame was known throughout the country. It was a national memorial
as much as the Monument near London Bridge is a national memorial for
Englishmen or the Statue of Liberty for Americans. Viscount Tanaka is a
great curio-collector, and when he heard of this Pagoda, he longed for it.
He mentioned his desire to the Korean Minister for the Imperial Household,
and the Minister told him to take it if he wanted it. A few days
afterwards, Viscount Tanaka, when bidding the Emperor farewell, thanked him
for the gift. The Korean Emperor looked blank, and said that he did not
know what the Viscount was talking about. He had heard nothing of it.
However, before long, a party of eighty Japanese, including a number of
gendarmes, well armed and ready for resistance, swooped down on Song-do.
They took the Pagoda to pieces and placed the stones on carts. The people
of the district gathered round them, threatened them, and tried to attack
them. But the Japanese were too strong. The Pagoda was conveyed in due
course to Tokyo.
Such an outrage could not go unnoticed. The story of the loss spread over
the country and reached the foreign press. Defenders of the Japanese at
first declared that it was an obvious and incredible lie. The _Japan Mail_
in particular opened the vials of its wrath and poured them upon the head
of the editor of the _Korea Daily News_--the English daily publication in
Seoul--who had dared to tell the tale. His story was "wholly incredible."
"It is impossible to imagine any educated man of ordinary intelligence
foolish enough to believe such a palpable lie, unless he be totally blinded
by prejudice." The _Mail_ discovered here again another reason for
supporting its plea for the suppression of "a wholly unscrupulous and
malevolent mischief-maker like the _Korea Daily News."_ "The Japanese
should think seriously whether this kind of thing is to be tamely suffered.
In allowing such charges at the door of the Mikado's Special Envoy who is
also Minister of the Imperial Household, the _Korea Daily News_
deliberately insults the Mikado himself. There is indeed the reflection
that this extravagance will not be without compensation, since it will
demonstrate conclusively, if any demonstration were needed, how completely
unworthy of credence have been the slanders hitherto ventilated by the
Seoul journal to bring the Japanese into odium."
There were instant demands for denials, for explanations, and for
proceedings against the wicked libeller. Then it turned out that the story
was true, and, in the end, the Japanese officials had to admit its truth.
It was said, as an excuse, that the Resident-General had not given his
consent to the theft, and that Viscount Tanaka did not intend to keep the
Pagoda himself, but to present it to the Mikado. The organ of the
Residency-General in Seoul, the _Seoul Press_, made the best excuse it
could. "Viscount Tanaka," it said, "is a conscientious official, liked and
respected by those who know him, whether foreign or Japanese, but he is an
ardent virtuoso and collector, and it appears that in this instance his
collector's eagerness got the better of his sober judgment and discretion."
But excuses, apologies, and regrets notwithstanding, the Pagoda was not
returned.
It may be asked why the white people living in Korea did not make the full
facts about Korea known at an earlier date. Some did attempt it, but the
strong feeling that existed abroad in favour of the Japanese people--a
feeling due to their magnificent conduct during the war--caused complaints
to go unheeded. Many missionaries, while indignant at the injury done to
their native neighbours, counselled patience, believing that the abuses
were temporary and would soon come to an end.
At the beginning of the war every foreigner--except a small group of
pro-Russians, sympathized with Japan. We had all been alienated by the
follies and mistakes of the Russian Far Eastern policy. We saw Japan at her
best, and we all believed that her people would act well by this weaker
race. Our favourable impressions were strengthened by the first doings of
the Japanese soldiers, and when scandals were whispered, and oppression
began to appear, we all looked upon them as momentary disturbances due to a
condition of war. We were unwilling to believe anything but the best, and
it took some time to destroy our favourable prepossessions. I speak here
not only for myself, but for many another white man in Korea at the time.
I might support this by many quotations. I take, for instance, Professor
Hulbert, the editor of the _Korea Review_, to-day one of the most
persistent and active critics of Japanese policy. At the opening of the war
Professor Hulbert used all his influence in favour of Japan.
"What Korea wants," he wrote, "is education, and until steps are
taken in that line there is no use in hoping for a genuinely
independent Korea. Now, we believe that a large majority of the
best-informed Koreans realize that Japan and Japanese influence
stand for education and enlightenment, and that while the
paramount influence of any one outside Power is in some sense a
humiliation, the paramount influence of Japan will give far less
genuine cause for humiliation than has the paramount influence of
Russia. Russia secured her predominance by pandering to the worst
elements in Korean officialdom. Japan holds it by strength of
arm, but she holds it in such a way that it gives promise of
something better. The word reform never passed the Russians'
lips. It is the insistent cry of Japan. The welfare of the Korean
people never showed its head above the Russian horizon, but it
fills the whole vision of Japan; not from altruistic motives
mainly but because the prosperity of Korea and that of Japan rise
and fall with the same tide."[1]
[Footnote 1: _Korea Review_, February, 1904.]
Month after month, when stories of trouble came from the interior, the
_Korea Review_ endeavoured to give the best explanation possible for them,
and to reassure the public. It was not until the editor was forced thereto
by consistent and sustained Japanese misgovernment that he reversed his
attitude.
Foreign visitors of influence were naturally drawn to the Japanese rather
than to the Koreans. They found in the officials of the Residency-General a
body of capable and delightful men, who knew the Courts of Europe, and were
familiar with world affairs. On the other hand, the Korean spokesmen had no
power or skill in putting their case so as to attract European sympathy.
One distinguished foreigner, who returned home and wrote a book largely
given up to laudation of the Japanese and contemptuous abuse of the
Koreans, admitted that he had never, during his journey, had any contact
with Koreans save those his Japanese guides brought to him. Some foreign
journalists were also at first blinded in the same way.
Such a state of affairs obviously could not last. Gradually the complaints
of the foreign community became louder and louder, and visiting publicists
began to take more notice of them.
The main credit for defending the cause of the Korean people at that time
must be given to a young English journalist, editor of the _Korea Daily
News_, Mr. Bethell took up an attitude of strong hostility to the Nagamori
land scheme, and came, in consequence, in sharp hostility to the Japanese
officials. This naturally led to his close association with the Korean
Court. The _Daily News_ became openly pro-Korean; its one daily edition was
changed into two separate papers--one, the _Dai Han Mai Il Shinpo_, printed
in the Korean language, and the other, printed in English, still calling
itself by the old name. Several of us thought that Mr. Bethell at first
weakened his case by extreme advocacy and by his indulgence in needlessly
vindictive writing. Yet it must be remembered, in common justice to him,
that he was playing a very difficult part The Japanese were making his life
as uncomfortable as they possibly could, and were doing everything to
obstruct his work. His mails were constantly tampered with; his servants
were threatened or arrested on various excuses, and his household was
subjected to the closest espionage. He displayed surprising tenacity, and
held on month after month without showing any sign of yielding. The
complaint of extreme bitterness could not be urged against his journal to
the same extent after the spring of 1907. From that time he adopted a more
quiet and convincing tone. He attempted on many occasions to restrain what
he considered the unwise tactics of some Korean extremists. He did his best
to influence public opinion against taking up arms to fight Japan.
Failing to conciliate the editor, the Japanese sought to destroy him. In
order to cut the ground from under his feet an opposition paper, printed in
English, was started, with an able Japanese journalist, Mr. Zumoto, Prince
Ito's leading spokesman in the press, as editor. Few could have done the
work better than Mr. Zumoto, but his paper, the _Seoul Press_, failed to
destroy the _Daily News_.
Diplomacy was now brought into play. During the summer of 1906, the
Japanese caused the translations of a number of articles from the _Dai Han
Mai Il Shinpo_ (the Korean edition of the _Daily Mail_) to be submitted to
the British Government, with a request that Mr. Bethell's journal might be
suppressed.
On Saturday, October 12th, Mr. Bethell received a summons to appear on the
following Monday at a specially appointed Consular Court, to answer the
charge of adopting a course of action likely to cause a breach of the
peace.
The trial took place in the Consular building, Mr. Cockburn, the very able
British Consul-General, acting as Judge. The short notice made it
impossible for Mr. Bethell to obtain legal aid, as there were no British
lawyers nearer than Shanghai or Kobe. He had to plead his cause under great
disadvantages.
Eight articles were produced in court Six were comments on or descriptions
of fighting then taking place in the interior. They were no stronger, if as
strong, as many of the statements published in this book.
The Consul-General's decision was as anticipated. He convicted the editor,
and ordered him to enter into recognizances of £300 to be of good behaviour
for six months. The _Korea Daily News_ in commenting on the matter, said,
"The effect of this judgment is that for a period of six months this
newspaper will be gagged, and therefore no further reports of Japanese
reverses can be published in our columns."
In June, 1908, Mr. Bethell was again prosecuted at a specially convened
court at Seoul, presided over by Judge Bourne of Shanghai. The charge, made
by Yagoro Miura, Secretary to the Residency-General and Resident for Seoul,
was of publishing various articles calculated to excite disorder and to
stir up enmity between the Government of Korea and its subjects.
Mr. Bethell was represented by counsel and applied to have the case heard
before a jury. The application was refused. He was convicted, sentenced to
three weeks' imprisonment and required to give security for good behaviour
for six months. He did not very long survive his sentence.
The people of Korea cherish his memory, and the name of "Beth-ell," as they
call him, is already becoming traditional. "We are going to build a great
statue to Beth-ell some day," they say. "We will never forget the man who
was our friend, and who went to prison for us."
VII
THE ABDICATION OF YI HYEUNG
The Court party was from the first the strongest opponent of the Japanese.
Patriotism, tradition, and selfish interests all combined to intensify the
resistance of its members. Some officials found their profits threatened,
some mourned for perquisites that were cut off, some were ousted out of
their places to make room for Japanese, and most felt a not unnatural anger
to see men of another race quietly assume authority over their Emperor and
their country. The Emperor led the opposition. Old perils had taught him
cunning. He knew a hundred ways to feed the stream of discontent, without
himself coming forward. Unfortunately there was a fatal strain of weakness
in his character. He would support vigorous action in secret, and then,
when men translated his speech into deeds, he would disavow them at the
bidding of the Japanese. On one point he never wavered. All attempts to
make him formally consent to the treaty of November, 1905, were in vain. "I
would sooner die first!" he cried. "I would sooner take poison and end
all!" In July, 1906, the Marquis Ito began to exercise stronger constraint
on the personal life of the Emperor. One evening a number of Japanese
police were brought into the palace. The old palace guards were withdrawn,
and the Emperor was made virtually a prisoner. Police officers were posted
at each gate, and no one was allowed in or out without a permit from a
Japanese-nominated official. At the same time many of the old palace
attendants were cleared out. The Resident-General thought that if the
Emperor were isolated from his friends, and if he were constantly
surrounded by enthusiastic advocates of Japan, he might be coerced or
influenced into submission. Yet here Marquis Ito had struck against a vein
of obstinacy and determination that he could scarce have reckoned with.