The Mongols a fixture.... a royal envoy.... his reception.... palaces on
Kang-wha destroyed.... the regency.... Mongol troops ordered
away.... standing complaint.... a singular custom.... pirates....
the prince finds Kublai Khan.... the prince returns to Korea....
Mongol policy conciliatory.... again suspicious.... tribute
remitted.... king goes to China.... Sun silenced.... Chinese envoys
to Japan.... accompanied by Korean envoys.... Kublai’s message to
Japan.... specified charges against Koryu.... Mongol general
murdered.... envoys to Japan shabbily treated.... Kublai orders
Koryu to aid in the invasion of Japan.... Kim Ehun destroyed....
Japanese captives sent to Peking.... revolution.... the emperor
threatens.... king reinstated.... king goes to China.... his
requests.... returns.... sedition.... preparations to invade
Japan.... officials’ wives restored.... a remarkable
commissioner.... Kublai proclaims the Yuan empire.... Japanese
envoy.... rebellion on Quelpart.... finances in bad shape.... Koryu
falsely accused.... rebellion stamped out.... Koreans build boats
for the Mongols.... the army of invasion.... the expedition sets
sail.... attack.... driven back by storms.... the king’s Mongol
queen.... Mongol coiffure and dress.... argument for plurality of
wives.... women’s rights.... another envoy to Japan.
The year 1259 opened with the sending of an envoy to China but he was
waylaid, robbed and killed by Koryŭ ruffians; thus Koryŭ was ever
discredited in the eyes of China. The Mongols now began to make fields
about P‘yŭng-yang with the intention of making that city a permanent
Mongol center. They repaired the walls of the town and constructed new
war boats on the river.
The king came to the decision that there was no possibility of ridding
himself of this incubus but by sending the crown prince to China. When
Gen. Cha Ra-dă heard of this he was highly pleased. Of course it would
appear that he had brought about this happy result. This was in the
third moon and Gen. Cha expected the arrival of the prince the following
month. When he heard that he was not to start till the fourth moon he
was angry; the king therefore hurried the preparations and sent the
prince off in the third moon. The escort consisted of forty men, and
there were three hundred horse-loads of gifts. In good time all arrived
at the court of the Mongol emperor. Gen. Cha however did not enjoy his
triumph, for at this very time he sickened and died.
When the prince arrived at the Chinese court the emperor was away on a
campaign against the Sung Empire in the south; so he announced himself
to the official in charge at the capital, Song Kil. The latter asked if
the king had as yet gone back to Song-do, to which the prince replied in
the negative, but added that the king would go as soon as possible if
the emperor demanded it. Song Kil rejoined “How can we recall the
soldiers so long as the king does not leave Kang-wha?” The Prince
replied “Gen. Cha said that if I came the troops would be recalled. If
they are not recalled the people will have no hope except in flight.”
When Song Kil heard this he countermanded an order which had been given
for additional troops to be sent into the peninsula. Word was sent,
instead, ordering the destruction of the palaces on Kang-wha. The order
was obeyed and it is said that the fall of the buildings sounded like
distant thunder. But the aged king who had suffered so many vicissitudes
of fortune was not to survive this great shame, and in the summer of
1259 he passed away.
Koryŭ was now without a king and the crown prince was far away in China.
It was decided to form a regency to act until the return of the prince.
At first it was conferred upon the second son of the deceased king but
the officials, remembering that the dying king had said “Put my grandson
in as regent until the prince returns”, made the change, and the crown
prince’s son, Sun, became regent pending his father’s return.
As the Mongol troops continued their depredations in the north an envoy
was again dispatched to the emperor’s court. As the latter was still
away campaigning in the south the envoy made bold to follow him up. He
passed Chŭk-san and finally found the emperor at Hyŭp-ju and delivered
his message. The emperor said “If you profess to be friendly with me why
are you always talking about my troops being in the way? Yet since the
crown prince has come to China I am willing to show you this favor”. He
thereupon sent an order for the retirement of all Mongol troops from
Korea.
Some busybody told the emperor that Koryŭ had no desire to hold faith
with China and in consequence an envoy came in haste to Song-do
demanding why the people who had fled to the islands did not return to
their homes. The reply was that the detention of the prince in China was
a cause of uneasiness and that even if he returned it would take at
least three years to get the people back to their homes; how much less
could it be done with the prince in China. This then became the standing
complaint of the Mongols, that the Korean people would not come back to
the mainland.
By this time the uncertainty of affairs and the fact that the central
government was weak and the Mongols still numerous caused great
instability in the north. The people were easily induced to revolt on
the slightest provocation. It became a regular custom for the people, if
they did not like their prefect, to kill him and transfer their
allegiance to the Mongols. The central government did not dare to punish
them, for this would provoke the Mongols, and reprisals would be in
order. At the same time there was trouble in the south, for pirates from
both Japan and the Sung kingdom of southern China kept ravaging the
island of Quelpart. An official was sent from Song-do to take in hand
the defense of the island but the people found him worse than the
pirates had been.
It was in 1260 that the crown prince followed the emperor southward, but
soon after reaching the emperor’s camp the latter died in the town of
Hap-ju and Gen. A-ri Pal-ga took the reins of power arbitrarily. The
prince knew that the great general Hol-p‘il-ryŭl (Kublai) would
doubtless become emperor in spite of this seditious movement on the part
of A-ri Pal-ga; so he secretly effected his escape from the latter’s
camp and struck directly across the country to Kang-nam where he found
Hol-p‘il-ryŭl in charge of an army, and, informing him of the emperor’s
decease, they both hastened toward Peking. It was not till the crown
prince returned to Peking that he learned of his father’s death and he
hastened to assume the mourner’s garb.
The emperor, Kublai Khan, sent him back to Koryŭ with great honor,
believing that, as he was to become king of Koryŭ, the vassal power
would thus become more closely united to China. Two Mongol generals came
with him as escort. These were Sok Yi-kă and Kang Wha-sang. On the way
these generals were told by a Koryŭ renegade that the crown prince would
change the capital to Quelpart. They asked the prince to face this man
and deny the charge but he assumed a royal attitude and exclaimed “I
would cut off my hair and become a slave before I would meet the
villain”. The generals were ashamed to press the matter. As they
approached Kang-wha the prince’s son, the acting king came with a great
retinue to meet them at Che-jung Harbor, where they all took boat and
crossed to the island. As the Mongol generals strongly urged the king to
go back to Song-do, the latter sent many of the officials back there in
order to make it appear as if he would follow shortly. All Mongol
soldiers were now recalled from Koryŭ and all their prefects as well.
The emperor likewise gave the king a present of seals, clothing, bows,
arrows, silks and other articles of value. The king so far conceded to
the wishes of his suzerain as to remove from Kang-wha to Tong-jin on the
adjacent mainland, from which, however, it was but half an hour’s sail
across to the island again. In addition to this the king sent the heir
apparent to China with gifts, of which, in view of the depletion of
Koryŭ’s treasury, the officials gave the greater part out of their
private means. The main request preferred at Kublai’s court was that he
would not listen longer to the representations of Koryŭ renegades whose
one object was to stir up strife and keep the countries at war with each
other. The emperor assented to this.
In 1261 the emperor made a requisition upon Koryŭ for a large amount of
copper and lead. The king did not have the copper and yet did not dare
to refuse; so he sent to A-t‘o in China and bought copper and delivered
it as ordered, but told how he had procured it. The emperor charged him
with lying and claimed that he was remiss in her duties as a vassal. He
moreover ordered that the king take a census of Koryŭ, establish a horse
relay system, train soldiers and prepare provisions for an army. The
king was unable to comply and an estrangement grew up between him and
the emperor which was unfortunate for both. Hong Ta-gu, a Koryŭ
renegade, took advantage of this to charge the Koryŭ prince, who was
then in Peking, with having insulted the Mongol crown prince. The
emperor believed the charge and cut off the Koryŭ prince’s revenues and
treated him with marked coldness. Hong also poisoned the emperor toward
Koryŭ by intimating that she would soon attempt to throw off the yoke of
China. But by the following year the relations seem to have become
cordial again, for when the king asked that the tribute be remitted on
the ground of the heavy expense of rebuilding palaces at Song-do, the
emperor not only consented but sent a present of 500 sheep. Koryŭ was
also fortunate in the sending of an envoy to Japan, for he returned with
a large amount of rice and cloth from Tsushima, which had been stolen by
Japanese corsairs.
In 1263 the king was ordered to repair to Peking. A long discussion
followed, some of the courtiers advising one thing and some another. The
monks at this time said, in effect, “I told you so”, for they had long
ago promised the king that if he would favor them he would not be called
to Peking. But go he did, leaving his son to administer the kingdom in
his absence. Sun, whom we will remember as the Koryŭ gentleman who had
married a Mongol princess and who was thoroughly Mongolized, told the
emperor that there were 38,000 troops in Koryŭ and that someone should
go and bring them to China where they could act as allies for the
Mongols in their conquests. To this Yi Chang-yung, who was in the king’s
retinue, answered. “Formerly we had that number of soldiers but many
have died and few are left. If the emperor cannot believe this let him
send Sun with me to Koryŭ and we will review all the troops and learn
the truth.” This was a telling blow, for Sun knew that if he once
crossed into Koryŭ territory his life would not be worth an hour’s
ransom; so he discreetly held his peace. The king came back to Song-do
in December of the same year.
In 1264 the Japanese pirates made another descent upon the shores of
southern Koryŭ but were driven away by the royal forces under Gen. An
Hong.
In 1265 the seed was sown that led to the attempted invasion of Japan by
the Mongols. A Koryŭ citizen, Cho I, found his way to Peking and there,
having gained the ear of the emperor, told him that the Mongol power
ought to secure the vassalage of Japan. The emperor listened favorable
and determined to make advances in that direction. He therefore
appointed Heuk Chŭk and Eun Hong as envoys to Japan and ordered them to
go by way of Koryŭ and take with them to Japan a Koryŭ envoy as well.
Arriving in Koryŭ they delivered this message to the king and two
officials, Son Kun-bi and Kim Ch‘an were appointed to accompany them to
Japan. They proceeded by the way of Kö-je Harbor in Kyŭng-sang Province
but were driven back by a fierce storm and the king sent the Mongol
envoys back to Peking. The Emperor was ill satisfied with the outcome of
the adventure and sent Heuk Chŭk with a letter to the king ordering him
to forward the Mongol envoy to Japan. The message which he was to
deliver to the ruler of Japan said “The Mongol power is kindly disposed
toward you and desires to open friendly intercourse with you. She does
not desire your submission but if you accept her patronage the great
Mongol empire will cover the earth.” The king forwarded the message with
the envoys to Japan, and informed the emperor of the fact.
Meanwhile the emperor was being worked upon by designing men who were
seeking to injure Koryŭ. They succeeded so well in their designs that he
sent an envoy bearing a list of specified charges against the king. (1)
You have enticed Mongol people to Koryŭ. (2) You did not feed our troops
when they were in Koryŭ. (3) You persistently refuse to come back to the
capital. (4) When our envoy went to Koryŭ you had a spy watch him. (5)
Your tribute has not been at all equal to the demand we made. (6) You
brought it about that the Japanese did not accept our offer. The
emperor’s suspicions continued to increase until finally he sent a
general, U-ya Son-dal, to demand that Yi Chang-yong and Kim Chun, two of
the most influential officials of Koryŭ, together with the father and
son of the latter, be brought to Peking. Kim Chun, on learning of this,
advised that the envoy be promptly killed and that the king remain in
some island, out of harm’s way. But the king knew that such a course
would be suicidal and firmly refused. So Kim Chun himself put Gen. U-ya
Son-dal to death and then announced the fact to the court. The king and
court were dumbfounded at his temerity but dared not lay hands on him,
though they all felt sure they would suffer for his rash act.
Fortunately for them, however, other events of great importance were
happening which distracted the attention of the emperor and secured
immunity from punishment. These events we must now relate.
The Mongol and Koryŭ envoys, upon reaching the Japanese capital, were
treated with marked disrespect. They were not allowed to enter the
gates, but were lodged at a place called T‘ă-jă-bu, outside the west
gate of the city. There they remained five months, and their
entertainment was of the poorest quality. And at last they were
dismissed without receiving any answer either to the emperor or to the
king.
Kublai Khan was not the kind of a man to relish this sort of treatment
and when he heard the story he sent a messenger straight to Koryŭ
telling the king “I have decided to invade Japan. You must immediately
begin the building of one thousand boats. You must furnish four thousand
bags of rice and a contingent of 40,000 troops.” The king replied that
this was beyond his power, for so many of the people had run away that
workmen could not be secured in sufficient numbers. The emperor,
however, was resolute and soon sent an envoy to see if his orders were
being carried out, and to make a survey of the straits between Koryŭ and
Japan, in the vicinity of Heuk-san Island. The emperor could scarcely
believe that the Japanese would dare to treat his envoy so
disrespectfully as had been reported and he suspected that it was some
sort of ruse that the king of Koryŭ had been playing on him; so he
decided to send his envoy Heuk Chŭk once more to Japan. This time also
he was accompanied by a Koryŭ envoy, Sim Sa-jŭn.
Meantime Kim Chun finding that his foul murder of the Mongol envoy went
unpunished, became prouder and more headstrong. His son stole two
boatloads of vegetables intended for the king’s own table. This roused
the ire of the king. Kim Chun might kill all the Mongol envoys he wished
but when it came to stealing from the king’s table something must be
done. There was only one official, Im Yun, who hated Kim Chun worse than
he feared him and the king selected this man for the work in hand.
Sending away all the other officials to a neighboring monastery to
sacrifice to Buddha for his health, he summoned Kim Chun and, when he
had him at his mercy, let Im Yun fall upon him with a club and take his
life. Kim Chun’s brother likewise fell the same day and the household of
the offender was broken up. The usual impotence of the king was
illustrated here by the very trick to which he was forced in order to
rid himself of his traitorous subject.
The spring of 1268 opened, and still the envoys had not returned from
Japan. The Koryŭ people managed to capture some Japanese from Tsushima
who had come near the Korean coast. They were sent to Peking together
with an envoy. The emperor was delighted, showed the captives all over
the palace and reviewed the army before them. After showing them all the
grandeur of the Mongol court, he sent them back to tell their king about
it and to urge him to make friends with the great Yuan empire. This same
year the crown prince went to the Mongol court.
Im Yun, whom the king had used as an instrument for the removal of the
obnoxious Kim Chun, did not intend to go without his reward. He began to
plan how he might become a king-maker himself. He desired to depose the
king and put another in his place who would be quite subservient to
himself. To this end he began to banish those who might oppose him in
this scheme, and at last when he had cleared the way and deemed the time
ripe, he surrounded himself with a powerful guard and called all the
officials to a council. He told them that the king desired to kill him,
but rather than die tamely he was resolved to do something desperate. He
asked them if they agreed, but no man dared to open his mouth. Then
putting on his armor he led the way to the palace and proclaimed Chang
as king. This Chang was a distant relative of the king. He also made all
the officials bow to him. The records say that this deed was accompanied
by a tremendous storm of rain in which the deposed king was driven forth
on foot. Im Yun and his lewd followers then proceeded to loot the
palace.
The parvenu Chang, at the instance of Im Yun sent an envoy to the Mongol
court saying that the king had handed over the reins of government to
him. The king’s son, who had gone but lately to the Chinese court, was
now on his way home. He arrived at night on the farther bank of the Yalu
River and was there met by a secret messenger who had crossed in the
dark to tell him that Chang had usurped the throne and that soldiers had
been stationed at Eui-ju to kill him when he arrived. So the Prince
turned and hastened back to the emperor and a letter was immediately
dispatched demanding the reinstatement of the rightful sovereign. After
two such appeals had remained unanswered the emperor threatened to send
an army to enforce the demand. The officials thereupon became afraid and
reluctantly put the rightful king back upon his throne. The emperor then
ordered both the king and the man who had deposed him to go to China in
order that the matter might be investigated. The king went but Im Yun
refused and sent his son instead. The emperor ordered the king to write
out the cause of the trouble but the latter feared that if he did so it
would make trouble for him when he went back, for Im Yun was a powerful
and unscrupulous man. He therefore told the emperor that he was troubled
with a lame hand that prevented his writing. Later however, in private,
he made the matter bare before the emperor and as a consequence Im Yun’s
son was thrown into prison. Before returning to Koryŭ the king asked the
emperor to bestow upon his son, the crown prince, the hand of one of the
Mongol princesses, to give him a Mongol escort back to Koryŭ, to place a
Mongol governor at P‘yŭng-yang and to return to the control of Koryŭ the
northern districts of the peninsula. The emperor consented to all but
the last of these requests. When the king came back to Song-do, Im Yun
attempted to oppose him but was speedily put down and decapitated.
Arriving at the capital the king went into camp outside the walls to
await the completion of the palace which was in course of construction.
The troops oppressed the people, and when the king ordered them to
disband they marched out in a body and went by boat to Chŭl-la Province
and began to act in a rebellious manner. A royal army, sent against
them, chased them into the island of Chin-do where they forced the
people to join their standards. Mongol and Koryŭ troops were sent
against them, but the people hated the Mongols so heartily that this
rather added to the difficulty than otherwise, and the disaffection,
spreading with increased rapidity, began to assume serious proportions.
The emperor learned of this and, believing that the king was hardly
equal to the task of managing the affairs of the government, sent a
commissioner to assume control at Song-do.
Matters stood thus when in 1270 the emperor determined to send another
envoy to Japan. Cho Yong-p‘il and Hong Ta-gu were appointed to this
important mission and they were joined in Koryŭ by the representative of
that country, by name Yang Yun-so. This embassy was charged with the
somewhat dangerous task of demanding the submission of Japan. The
emperor did not anticipate success in this, as is shown by the fact that
he had rice fields made in Pong-san, Koryŭ, to raise rice for an army of
invasion which he intended to launch upon Japan. For this work he
ordered the king to furnish 6000 plows and oxen, as well as seed grain.
The king protested that this was quite beyond his power, but as the
emperor insisted he sent through the country and by force or persuasion
obtained a fraction of the number demanded. The emperor aided by sending
10,000 pieces of silk. The Koryŭ army had dwindled to such a point that
butchers and slaves were enrolled in the lists. The rebel army had been
driven out of Chin-do, but a remnant had crossed over to Quelpart where
the kingdom of T‘am-na still flourished. Many of these rebels had been
captured on Chin-do and had been taken as captives to China. Now at the
request of the king they were sent back to Song-do for punishment. A
curious complication arose in connection with this. These rebels, when
they first went to Kang-wha had stolen the wives of many of the
officials there and had carried them south. These women accompanied
their newly acquired husbands to China; but now that they were all
returned to Song-do many of them again met their former husbands. Some
were received back gladly while others were not wanted, owing to new
arrangements which were quite satisfactory. But the king commanded that
all officials who found their former wives should take them back.
The emperor, influenced by evil-minded men who exaggerated the wealth of
the peninsula, demanded that Koryŭ send a large amount of timber to
China, but the king answered that he could not accomplish
impossibilities. The commissioner who had been sent was a capable man
and was well liked by the people in spite of his Mongol nationality. The
commissioner fell ill and was fast approaching his end. The king sent
him some medicine but he refused to take it, saying that if he took it
and yet died the emperor might charge the king with having made away
with him by poison. So the disease ran its course and the commissioner
expired amid the lamentations of the people. Their appreciation of this
Mongol’s kindness shows how badly they were accustomed to being
governed. Their high appreciation of his mild and just government
overcame even their prejudice against his birth.
It was in this same year that Kublai Khan proclaimed the name of his
empire Yuan.
When the Mongol and Koryŭ envoys returned from Japan they were
accompanied by a Japanese envoy. The king hurried them on to Peking
where they were received by the emperor with great delight, who hoped
that he had now gained his point. But he did not relax his preparations
for an invasion, for he commanded the king to hasten the construction of
boats and the collection of provisions. Everything however was hindered
by the rebels on Quelpart who built there a strong fortress and made it
a center from which to harry the southern islands and even parts of the
mainland. The exchequer was exhausted and the people could not endure
further taxation. Many of them fled from their homes to escape the
exactions of the government. It is said that one day the king himself
had to get along without any side dishes or condiments.
The land seemed doomed to misfortune. A marauding party of Japanese
landed at Keum-ju and the people, in fear of their lives, treated them
well and gave them whatever they asked for. This the renegade Hong Ta-gu
told the emperor with embellishments of his own and averred that Koryŭ
was making friends with Japan with a view to an invasion of China. The
action of the people of Keum-ju made this seem probable. This fed the
emperor’s suspicions of Koryŭ’s bad faith and added materially to the
overwhelming difficulties under which the land was already staggering.
The matter of the Quelpart rebels came to an issue when they began
ravaging the coast of Chŭl-la Province, burning at one place between
twenty and thirty ships and carrying away a number of Mongol soldiers as
prisoners. The following spring a strong body of Mongol and Koryŭ troops
crossed to Quelpart, overthrew the stronghold of the rebels and placed
there a garrison of 500 Mongol and 1000 Koryŭ troops.
The eventful year 1273 opened with a vigorous demand on the part of the
emperor that the king prepare 300 vessels, for which he was to supply
not only the labor but the materials as well. At the same time the
vanguard of the army of invasion, 5000 strong, came to Koryŭ, perhaps to
see that the commands of the emperor were promptly complied with. They
brought 33,000 pieces of silk to use in purchasing supplies for their
maintenance. Silk was the very last thing that the poverty-stricken
people of Koryŭ wanted, but it was forced upon them and they had to buy
whether they wished or not. The king in attempted obedience to the
Emperor’s demands assembled 3500 carpenters and other artisans necessary
to the building of the boats, and the work was begun.
The Mongol governor who had been placed at P‘yŭng-yang was a man of dark
and fierce aspect and he was universally feared and hated. He also
demanded the society of the fair sex and seized women right and left.
Famine stared the capital in the face and the emperor was obliged to
send 20,000 bags of rice to relieve the distress. In spite of the
inauspiciousness of the times the crown prince who had been plighted to
a Mongol princess was sent to Peking where the nuptials were celebrated.
No sooner had this been done than the emperor sent to Koryŭ the main
body of the army which was to cross the straits and attack Japan. It
consisted of 25,000 men. Thus slightingly did the great conqueror gauge
the prowess of the Island Empire.
King Wŭn-jong died while the prince was in China and the emperor
hastened to confer upon the latter the insignia of royalty and send him
back to take charge of affairs at home. This prince’s name was Ko,
posthumous title Ch‘ung-ryŭl. The princess, his wife, did not accompany
him to Koryŭ at first but waited to follow at leisure. When the young
king arrived at Song-do has first act was to send an escort to bring his
Mongol queen to him.
The events above recorded had followed thick and fast upon each other
and now the great and long contemplated invasion of Japan was about to
become an accomplished fact. The entire army of invasion rendezvoused on
the southeastern coast of Korea, opposite the islands of Japan. It
consisted of 25,000 Mongol troops under Generals Hol Ton, Hong Ta-gu and
Yu Pok-hyöng; and 15,000 Koryŭ troops under Gen. Kim Pang-gyŭng. The
flotilla that was to carry this army across the straits consisted of 900
boats. Sailing from the shores of Korea the fleet made for the island of
Iki near the mainland of Japan. Entering the harbor of Sam-nang they
found a small garrison stationed there. Generals Kim and Hong attacked
and routed this outpost, returning to the fleet, it is said, with 1000
heads. From this point they approached the mainland, landing at several
points for the purpose of making a general advance into the country. The
Japanese however attacked them briskly and checked the advance, but were
themselves checked by a Koryŭ General, Pak, whom the Mongols praised
highly for his valor.
It was a foregone conclusion that the allied Koryŭ and Mongol forces
must retire sooner or later. Forty thousand men could do nothing on the
Japanese mainland. So they retired slowly back to their boats. Nature
aided the Japanese, for a storm arose which wrecked many of the boats
and many more were scattered, so that the total loss to the allied
forces was something over 13000. The scattered remnants of the fleet
rendezvoused as best they could at the harbor of Hap and from there made
their way back to Koryŭ. So ended the first attempt to subdue the Land
of the Rising Sun.
Meanwhile events were not at a standstill in the peninsula. The king
went as far as P‘yŭng-yang to meet his bride. Escorting her back to the
capital he gave her a palace of her own, fitted up according to her
fancy. The records say that she had sheep skins hanging in the doorways.
This would probably be in accord with Mongol ideas. The former Queen was
lowered to the position of second wife or concubine. The Mongolizing
tendency had now gone so far that the king ordered the officials to
adopt the Mongol coiffure. The order was not obeyed until after long and
heated debate, but at last the conservatives were voted down and all
submitted to the new style. At the same time the Mongol dress was also
adopted.
An amusing incident is reported as having occurred about this time. A
courtier named Pa-gyu observed to the king, “The male population of the
country has been decimated but there are still plenty of women. For this
reason it is that the Mongols take so many of them. There is danger that
the pure Koryŭ stock will become vitiated by the intermixture of wild
blood. The king should let each man take several wives and should remove
the restrictions under which the sons of concubines labor.” When the
news of this came to the ears of the women they were up in arms, as
least the married portion; and each one read to her spouse such a
lecture that the subject was soon dropped as being too warm to handle.
When the king passed through the streets with Pa-gyu in his retinue the
women would point to the latter and say “There goes the man who would
make concubines of us all.”
In spite of the failure of the plan of invasion, the emperor could not
believe that Japan was serious in daring to oppose his will and so sent
another envoy demanding that the Japanese sovereign come to Peking and
do obeisance. We may well imagine with what ridicule this proposition
must have been received in the capital of the hardy islanders.