Chapter VII.

Manchu camps.... the garrison of Nam-han.... a trick.... divided

counsels.... the king determines to fight it out.... Koreans eager

to fight.... the garrison put on half rations.... terrible cold....

message to the provinces.... successful sallies.... the king’s

kindness.... the Manchu fence.... the gift refused.... help from the

outside....unsuccessful venture.... plenty and want.... imperial

edict.... the answer.... a night attack.... relief party

defeated.... other attempts to relieve the king.... a cowardly

general.... a clever trick.... Korean defeat.... mutual

recriminations.... a ghastly trick.... desperate straits....

correspondence.... a starving garrison.... a heroic answer.... king

wants to surrender.... Manchu demands.... fighting continued.

The Manchu army encamped along the southern side of the city from

Mo-wha-gwan to the South Gate and outside the East Gate, and the air

resounded with the sound of music and drums. At first the soldiers

committed no excesses beyond the theft of a few cattle and an occasional

woman, but now that it was learned that the king had run away to Nam-han

the license became unbounded and men and women were killed in large

numbers. The royal treasure houses were looted and nothing was too

sacred to be dragged about the streets. That same night a band of the

Manchus completely encircled Nam-han, which must be well-nigh ten miles

around.

The king set a strong guard all about the wall, appointing Gen. Sin

Kyöng-jin to guard the East Gate, Gen. Ku Kweng the South Gate, Gen. Yi

Sö the North Gate and Gen. Yi Si-băk the West Gate. Generals Wŭn

Tu-p‘yo, Ku In-hu, Han Whe-il and Pak Whan went all about the wall with

strong bodies of troops, to prevent the entrance of any scaling party.

The whole number of troops in the fortress was about 12,000. Gen. Nam

An-gap held the important position of Commissariat Chief. The king’s

retinue and court consisted of 200 officials, 200 of his relatives, 100

clerks, and 300 servants of different degrees. All these received their

salary in rice. Officials of the first and second grades were allowed to

have three servants and two horses, those of the third, fourth and fifth

grades could have two servants and one horse, while those below these

could have but one servant and one horse, The commander-in-chief was

Gen. Kim Nyu. His advice to the king was to send the crown prince and

the prime minister at once and make the best terms possible. It was

decided to deceive the enemy if possible, so Neung Pong-su, a distant

relative of the king, assumed the name of the king’s younger brother,

and Sim Chip assumed the role of crown prince. Together they sallied out

to try their hand on the Manchus. When they came before Mabudă, that

hardheaded warrior looked them over, turned them inside out and sent

them back to the king with the curt reply that, “As you have been trying

to play a trick on us we will now consent to treat with no one whatever

except the crown prince himself. If you will send him we will talk with

you.” This they demanded in spite of the statements of the messengers

that the crown prince was still in mourning for his mother.

When this ultimatum was delivered to the king there was a division of

opinion. Gen. Kim Nyu and several others averred that there was nothing

to do but comply with the demands But the king said, “I will die first.”

Kim Sang-hön took the other side and said, “Whoever talks of

surrendering so tamely is a traitor.” On the seventeenth the king sent

Hong Sö-bong to the Manchu camp and said, “I am willing to send my

second or third son to you but they are all in Kang-wha.” They answered

as before, “We will see no one but the crown prince.” When the crown

prince expressed his willingness to go, a courtier said, “We have a good

strong garrison and shall we tamely surrender and send our future king

into the clutches of these highwaymen? If he goes I shall strangle

myself with my own bridle.” Another said, “Let us fight them. We are

men, not straw manikins.” So the king made up his mind that it would be

war and not surrender and he so proclaimed, “We shall fight to the

bitter end. Let no one expect or hope for peace.” He then despatched a

letter to Kim Cha-jŭm in P’yŭng-yang, saying “We are hemmed in here and

our forces are small and food scarce, but we have determined to fight it

out even though it ends the dynasty. So hasten and come to our aid with

all the forces at your command.” The next day the guard of the North

Gate made a successful sally, returning with six Manchu heads. This

excited the soldiers almost to frenzy, and they were eager to rush out

and engage the besiegers. Unfortunately all the rice that had been

stored at the river for the provisioning of Nam-han had been seized by

the Manchus, but the arms and ammunition were safe within the walls. The

king took advantage of the elation of the soldiers over this successful

sally to make them a little speech, in which he remarked, “Shall we

surrender or fight? It is for you to say.” Sim Kwang-su answered grimly

for them all and said “Show us the head of the man who advised to

surrender.” This referred to Gen. Ch’oe Myŭng-gil, but the rest did not

dare to second the request. From that time the walls were guarded with

renewed vigilance. Day after day the smoke of the Manchu camps went up

to heaven round about the beleagured fortress. On the nineteenth the

king sacrificed at the tomb of On-jo, the founder of the ancient kingdom

of Păk-je of which Nam-han was for many years the capital. On the same

day Gen. Ku Kweng made a sally from the West Gate and took twenty Manchu

heads. This again excited the garrison almost beyond control. The

following day a renegade Korean who had gone over to the Manchus came

near the gate and parleyed with the guard, urging that the king

surrender and make peace; but when the king heard of it he ordered that

if the man came again he should not be met at the gate but that the

guard should only talk down at him from the top of the wall.

The matter of provisions was one of prime importance, and the king

called the chief of commissariat and asked him how many days’ rations

there were remaining in the store-houses. He replied that there were

enough provisions to last sixty days, but that if great economy were

exercised it might last seventy days. He said the horses could have but

one measure of beans a day and the servants must get along as best they

could, on barley and oats. Someone suggested that as there were a large

number of people present who held no important position, the king ought

not to feel obliged to support them, but the king vetoed this by saying,

“They came here trusting in me and now shall I deprive them of food? No,

we will all eat or go hungry together.” The weather was very cold and

the men exposed upon the wall suffered severely. Their cheeks, being

frost-bitten, cracked open in a very painful manner. In view of this the

king ordered that night guards be dispensed with and that no old or

feeble men should be put on picket duty in these exposed positions.

The king again sent out a letter to the governors of the different

provinces saying, “We are here hemmed in; our life hangs by a thread.

Let all loyal men rally to our support, and march against the besieging

force.” To Kim Cha-jŭm he wrote, “For seven days we have now been

immured and we have come to the brink of destruction. Come immediately

to our aid.”

On the twenty-first there were two simultaneous sallies, from the East

and West Gates respectively, and each resulted in the securing of a few

trophies. For the encouragement of the soldiers Kim Sin-guk suggested

that a schedule of rates be issued offering prizes for Manchu heads. The

king’s intention not to surrender was still unshaken, for when a

courtier memorialized him urging surrender he burned the document in

anger. On the twenty-second a Manchu messenger rode up to the gate and

asked if the king were ready to surrender yet. The answer came in the

shape of fierce sallies on the South and East sides in which forty heads

were taken and in which Gen. Yi Chi-wŭn, with an iron club, killed two

mounted generals. The soldiers were so elated by these successes, which

of course could make no difference in the strength of the besieging

force, that on the following day they made simultaneous attacks on

several sides, in each of which the Koreans had some advantage. The

Koreans lost but twenty men while the Manchu loss was much greater. As

the Manchus carried their dead from the field, however, the exact amount

of their loss is not known. The king celebrated the victory by making a

circuit of the wall. The next day was wet and foggy and the cold was

even harder to endure than when the weather was clear. Both the king and

the crown prince came out in the rain to encourage the soldiers and they

and many of the officials gave mats and blankets and the mud-guards of

their saddles to help the soldiers to keep dry. The inmates of Han-heung

Monastery, inside the fortress, presented the king with forty quires of

paper, and several bags of vegetables, but the king distributed them all

among the soldiers. Other monks presented three large bowls of honey,

for which the king thanked them and gave presents in return.

On the twenty-fifth the Manchus completed a wattle fence completely

encircling the fortress. It was thirty miles long and twice the height

of a man. Some idea can be formed of the numbers in the Manchu army when

we know that this was completed in seven days. Every eighty paces a bell

was attached in such a way that if anyone attempted to break through,

warning would be given to the sentinels.

There were those outside who sincerely desired to give succor to the

king and the court. Gen. Kwŭn Chöng-gil, of Wŭn-ju, gathered a small

force and camped on Kŭm-dan mountain in plain sight of Nam-han, and the

king was greatly encouraged, hoping that the Koreans were rallying to

his support. When this loyal band attacked the Manchus they were

immediately overwhelmed and cut to pieces.

The Manchus caught every Korean they could lay hands on. The more

vigorous of these they forced into their ranks, the old men were made

hewers of wood and drawers of water, the young women were made

concubines and the older women were compelled to cook and wash.

On the twenty-eighth the king sent a present of a bullock and ten

bottles of wine to the Manchu headquarters, but received the reply,

“Heaven has given us all Korea and we have no need of these things. Take

them back to your starving soldiers.”

Chöng Se-gyu, the governor of Ch’ung-ch’ŭng Province, was consumed with

grief on hearing that the king was reduced to two side-dishes with his

rice; so he gave a monk two pheasants and told him to effect an entrance

in some way or other and give them to the king. The governor himself

came with a handful of men to Ma-heui-ch’ŭn, only forty _li_ from the

beleaguered fortress, and there he was attacked in the rear by the

enemy. His whole force was annihilated, though he himself escaped by

leaping into a deep gorge, intending to commit suicide. But the fall was

not fatal. Nam Yang, also, the prefect of Yun-gye, wanted to do what he

could, and when he learned of the distress of the king, he arose even on

his wedding night and started for the seat of war. His little force was

surrounded and he was ordered to surrender, and then it was that he made

that memorable reply, “You can conquer my neck but never my knees.” His

tongue was cut out and his body was dismembered.

Gen. Kim Nyu had the idea that the Manchu force was weakest on the south

and that if a sudden, determined attack were made the line might be

broken through. So on the twenty-ninth he called all the generals and

gave his orders. They all disagreed with him and considered the project

hopeless, but would not show insubordination. A considerable body,

therefore, emerged from the South Gate, hastened down the valley against

the surrounding line of besiegers. These men had no faith in the plan,

however, and were prevented from turning back only by the sword of Gen.

Kim Nyu which he used on a few as a warning to the rest. Gen. Sin said,

“This is actual suicide. Let me take my company and go out here and show

you at the cost of my life that this cannot be done.” He pushed rapidly

forward and was soon surrounded by the Manchus who had lain concealed in

a bend of the hills, and he and his men were all cut down. When the

ammunition of his men was gone they clubbed their muskets and fought to

the bitter end. Two hundred Koreans fell in this rash adventure and Gen.

Kim returned crest-fallen and ashamed. Having no excuse, he tried to lay

the blame on others, claiming that they did not support him properly. He

also told the king that only forty men had been killed.

Sim Keui-wŭn who had been left as guardian of Seoul sent a letter to the

king saying that he had made a fierce attack on the Manchus encamped at

A-o-gă outside the West Gate, but the king afterwards learned that this

was false, and that Sim had fled incontinently from before the face of

the foe.

When the last day of the year 1636 arrived it found the relative

position of the Koreans and Manchus as follows: The Manchu camps were

filled with plunder and with women which the soldiers had captured; but

what of the children? These the soldiery did not want, and so they were

killed and their bodies thrown outside the camps. There they lay in

piles and a pestilence was prevented only by the intense cold of winter.

In Nam-han the greatest distress prevailed. The provisions had not held

out as had been hoped. Food was all but exhausted and horses and cattle

were dying of starvation. The king slept in his ordinary clothes, for he

had given all his blankets to the soldiers. All he had to eat with his

rice was the leg or wing of a chicken. On that last day of the year some

magpies gathered and began building a nest in a tree near the king’s

quarters. This was hailed as a hopeful omen. It shows to what straits

the garrison was reduced that it should have pinned its faith to this

childish superstition. It was the sole subject of conversation for some

time, but it did the caged Korean king no good.

The next day was new years day of 1637 and the king sent Kim Sin-guk and

Yi Kyŭng-jik to the Manchu camp to offer the compliments of the season.

They were there informed that the emperor’s son had arrived and had

inspected the army and the forts. Consequently on the following day Hong

Sö-bong, Kim Sin-guk and Yi Kyŭng-jik hastened to his headquarters and

were met, not by the emperor’s son but by a general who said, “You have

called us slaves and thieves but our course has been straight and

consistent throughout.” He then laid before them an edict of the emperor

written on yellow paper, and they were ordered to bow before it. Its

contents were as follows:

“The great, the good, the wise, the kind Emperor to the king of Korea.

As you preferred allegiance to the Ming Emperor rather than to us and,

not content with throwing us over, despised and insulted us, you now

have an opportunity to see the fruits of your choice. Of a truth you

acted wickedly in breaking your oath, in throwing off the Manchu yoke

and in offering us armed opposition. I have now brought an immense army

and have surrounded your eight provinces. How can you longer hope to

render assistance to your “father,” the Ming Emperor? The Mings are now

hung up by the heels, as it were.”

On the next day the king sent his answer couched in the following terms:

“The great, the glorious, the righteous Emperor. The little country has

indeed sinned against the great one and has drawn upon herself this

trouble which lies hard by the door of destruction. We have long wanted

to write thus but we have been so surrounded and hemmed in that it

seemed well-nigh impossible to get a letter through the lines; but now

that the Emperor’s son himself has come, we rejoice, and yet we tremble.

The Ming Emperor is no longer our suzerain. In this we have completely

reformed. The people on the border have acted badly in ill-treating the

Manchu envoys. We are truly on the brink of destruction and we confess

all our sin. It is for us to confess and for the Emperor to forgive.

From this day forth we wash from our mind all other thought of

allegiance and enter upon a new line of conduct. If the Emperor will not

forgive, we can only bow the head and die.”

When this abject document was read before the court, before sending it,

some thought it too humble, but the leaders said it was the only course

left; so it was forwarded to the Manchu camp. Answer was returned that

the Emperor’s son had not yet arrived but that when he came he would

reply. Strange to say no truce was made and the Manchu soldiers, fearing

perhaps that a truce might rob them of the pleasure of scaling those

walls that had defied them so long, approached the wall that very night

and with scaling ladders a considerable number effected an entrance. But

they had underestimated the determination and courage of the defenders,

and those who got in were quickly dispersed by Gen. Yi Si-băk. Many

Manchus fell in this desperate assault. Almost at the same hour a

similar attack was made on the south side but there also the Manchus

were check-mated by the watchful guard.

And now a diversion occurred. Generals Hŏ Wan and Min Yöng from the

provinces approached with a force of 40,000 men and seriously threatened

the Manchu flank. They were stationed on two opposite hills with a line

of sharpshooters between. In the fight which ensued the Koreans held

their ground gallantly and at first even made the invaders retreat; but

this exhausted their ammunition and when the enemy reformed his lines

and came on again to the attack there was nothing to do but retreat. The

retreat became a rout and large numbers of Koreans were cut down,

including Gen. Hŏ Wan. The other part of the army under Gen. Min Yöng

held out a little longer but an unfortunate accident occurred which

threw his troops into confusion. A large quantity of powder which was

being paid out to the soldiers suddenly exploded killing a large number

of men and depriving the rest of means for continuing the fight. So they

met the same fate as the others. Those that the Manchus killed they

stripped and burned but many fugitives likewise died of exposure and

fatigue.

Gen. Sim Yun had been fortifying Cho-ryŭng (Pass) but when he heard of

the rout of the 40,000 men he took fright and retreated precipitately,

telling all he met that there was no use in attempting to do anything.

Gen. Kim Chun-yong, however, had more perseverance and came and encamped

twenty miles from Nam-han, occupying a position that was specially

annoying to the enemy. A fight was the result, in which the Koreans were

at first successful, but during the night the Manchus were reinforced

and cannon were brought to bear upon the Koreans. All the next day the

Koreans fought desperately. Night put an end to the battle and the

Koreans finding that all their ammunition was gone, silently separated,

burning all bridges as they went.

The admiral of Chŭl-la Province desired to render aid to the king and so

getting together a little fleet of boats he came north to Kang-wha and

joined the royal forces there. The governor of Kang-wŭn Province excused

himself from taking active part in the relief of Nam-han on the score of

scarcity of food. For this he was afterward banished.

Singular events were happening in the north where Gen. Yang Keun lay

with a considerable force a short distance north of Seoul. He was

however a coward and dared not move hand or foot. Two other generals

felt that they might get into trouble if they did do not something, and

they had the happy thought that they ought to report to their superior,

Gen. Yang Keun, for they knew he would do nothing, and thus they would

be safe, for their responsibility would cease. So they went to him and

urged him to advance against the Manchus. But he declined to do so, and

even gave them a written statement to that effect. Armed with that they

felt quite safe. So there they lay a month till they heard at last of

the fall of Nam-han.

Of another stamp was Gen. Yu Rim. He was on the road between Seoul and

P’yŭng-yang and, being attacked by the Manchus, he and his little band

defended themselves with such good effect that the Manchu camp resounded

all night with wailings for their dead. The Koreans, finding that their

ammunition was almost exhausted, then planned an ingenious retreat.

Loading their muskets they tied them to trees, attached fuses of

different lengths and then silently retreated. The guns kept going off

all night and so the enemy knew nothing of the retreat until it was

discovered in the morning.

Another effort that was made about this time was that of Generals Kim

Cha-jŭm and Yŏk-dal who had a following of some 7,000 men. Starting from

the north they came down to the vicinity of Song-do. Unfortunately they

had no scouts out and suddenly falling in with a Manchu force in the

narrow passage a few miles beyond Song-do, they were thrown into a panic

and it is said that 5,000 men were killed, though it seems almost

incredible that only 2,000 men survived out of 7,000. Gen. Kim escaped

by scaling the steep mountain side but his second was caught and bound.

The two thousand survivors rallied and attacked the Manchus with such

fury that they were forced back and the captured general was rescued.

Gen. Kim Cha-jŭm then made his way to where Gen. Yang Keun was idling

away his time, and together they awaited the surrender of the king. We

may anticipate a few months and say that after peace was made these two

generals were banished to distant places for their criminal cowardice.

Gen. Sin Kyöng-wan, stationed at Ong-jin in Whang-hă Province, was

surrounded by the enemy, but the place was so difficult of approach,

owing to the roughness of the ground, that they could not reduce it; so,

hoping to draw out the garrison they feigned retreat. Gen. Sin was not

to be caught thus, and sent out one of his lieutenants to reconnoitre.

That man happened to be just recovering from a wound, and so he did not

go far, but spent the night in a neighboring inn. He came back in the

morning and reported the enemy gone. Gen. Sin then led out his troops to

take them to the vicinity of Seoul; but the Manchus, who were lying

concealed in the vicinity, rushed out upon him and captured him. He was

released only after peace had been declared.

At Nam-han a severe mental struggle was going on. They well knew that

surrender and humiliation were inevitable but their pride revolted at

the thought, and each tried to throw the blame on the other. This may be

illustrated by a single case which will show how mutual recriminations

were being made in the very presence of the siege-weary king. Yu

Păk-jeung memorialized the king in these words: “Gen. Kim Nyu who holds

the rank of General-in-chief is a man of no military skill, a man of

jealous, vindictive temperament and his house is full of bribes. When

the king came to Nam-han it was almost without retinue, but he,

forsooth, must bring sixty horsemen at his back. And the females of his

household came in litters. He it was who urged the king to give up the

crown prince to the tender mercies of the Manchu wolves. He it was who

compassed the humiliation of the king by advising him to send that

self-effacing letter which, though so humble, was rejected. This is all

the work of Kim Nyu.” Here as elsewhere we see that personal spite has

always been the rock on which the interests of Korea have been wrecked.

The emperor knew that he had the king secure, and he determined to delay

the ratification of a treaty until his captive was reduced to the last

crust, in order to brand upon the memory of all Koreans the indubitable

fact of their vassalage and to teach them a lesson that they should

never forget. And so the days slipped by.

On the sixth of the moon Korean messengers succeeded in getting through

the Manchu lines and brought the king letters from his two sons on the

island of Kang-wha, but the Manchus were aware of this and redoubled

their diligence in guarding the approaches, and so the king was

completely cut off from the outside. A few days later a costly joke was

played by the Korean Gen. Kim On-yun. He led a small party outside the

West Gate and soon returned with two heads. The king praised him and

gave him presents of silk. The heads were raised on pikes, but behold,

no blood came from them. A soldier in the ranks cried out, “Why is my

brother killed twice?” The truth is that the General had beheaded two

corpses of Koreans whereby to obtain praise and favor from the king. The

king replaced the heads by those of the general and his second.

On the twelfth the king’s emissaries went into the Manchu camp bearing a

letter from the king. They were told that a great Manchu general was

about to arrive and that they must come again the next day. The people

in Nam-han were in desperate straits. All who had advocated continued

resistance now urged surrender, excepting Kim Sang-hön and Chong On, who

said, “Not till every soldier is dead, and all the common people as

well, will it be time to think of giving in.”

The next day the messengers presented themselves in the Manchu camp as

ordered. The general who received them said, “You broke your former

treaty with us. Are you prepared to keep it if we make another?” The

messengers beat upon their breasts and cried, “It was our fault and not

the fault of the king. We are willing to prove this with our lives.”

“But why do you not come out and fight?” “We are an insignificant power

and how can we hope to cope with you?” was the humble reply. The Manchu

then broke the seal of the king’s letter and read, “When we signed the

former treaty you were the elder brother and we the younger brother.

When a younger brother does wrong it is for the older brother to correct

him, but if it is done too severely a principle of righteousness is

broken, and the Supreme Being will be offended. We are dwellers in a

corner of the sea. We know nothing but books. We are no warriors. We are

weak and must bow before superior force. So we accept the clemency of

the Manchus, and we are now vassals and you are our suzerain. When the

Japanese invaded our land and we were on the verge of destruction, China

sent her hosts and saved us. Our gratitude to them lives in the very

fiber of our bones. Even at the risk of incurring your anger we could

not bear to cast them off. If now the Manchu power shows us kindness and

goes back across the Yalu, our gratitude toward them will be the same.

We have been a long time imprisoned here and we are tired and cramped.

If you consent to overlook our faults we will engage to treat the Manchu

power rightly. These sentiments are engraved on our very hearts and we

surrender ourselves to the clemency of the Manchu emperor.”

Food was now practically gone. The officials themselves were put on half

rations and even the king’s daily supply was diminished by one third. At

the very most there was enough to last but twenty days more. At this

time the Manchus burned the buildings in connection with the royal tombs

outside the east Gate, and also those near Nam-han. The smoke of the

burning went up to heaven. These acts of vandalism must have been a

bitter drop in the cup that was being put to the king’s lips. On the

sixteenth Hong Sö-bong again went to the Manchu camp and asked why no

answer was sent. The truth is that the Manchus had determined to first

send and reduce the Island of Kang-wha. They answered, “Gen. Kong Yu-dŭk

has gone with 70,000 men to take Kang-wha. We must wait till he

returns.” The next day they sent the king an insulting letter saying,

“Why do you not come out and fight? We thought we would get at least a

little fight out of you. Have not your soldiers learned to load and

fire? China is your good friend; why does she not send and help you? Now

you are starving and yet you have the impudence to talk about

righteousness. Heaven helps the good and punishes the evil. Those who

trust us we aid, those who oppose we decapitate. As we have become your

enemies you see us here in force. If you will come back to your

allegiance we will treat you as a brother. If you wish to live, come out

and surrender; if you will come out and fight so much the better. Heaven

will decide between us.” This received from the Koreans, starving though

they were, the following memorable reply, “We will die and rot here in

our fortress before we will surrender thus. Then there will be no one to

answer your insulting summons.”

On the eighteenth a Manchu general came near the South Gate and demanded

that the king should come out and surrender or else come out and fight.

The king thereupon sent a letter to the Manchu headquarters saying that

he wanted to come out and surrender but that he did not dare to do so

while the Manchu soldiers were prowling about the wall. As the king

handed this letter to the messenger Kim Sang-hön snatched it from the

messenger’s hand and tore it in fragments saying, “How can you bear to

send such a letter. Heaven will still favor us if we are patient, but if

we send this we are truly undone.” Then followed a scene in which the

courtiers almost came to blows. Ch’oe Myŭng-gil took the fragments of

the letter and pasted them together and the next day in company with

another general took it to the Manchus. They were met with the gruff

reply, “We do not want your letters. We want your king to come out and

surrender.” That night the Manchus scaled the wall on the east side and

a great panic followed, but Gen. Yi Keui-ch’uk, with a body of picked

men succeeded in driving back the enemy. On the twentieth an answer was

received from the emperor who said, “The reason why we demand that you

come out and surrender is that we may have a visible proof of your

sincerity. If we depart now leaving you still king of Korea all will be

well. Why should I deceive you since I am conquering the whole world

besides? Need I use guile? I desire to punish only those who advised you

to cleave to China and prove untrue to us. Before surrendering you must

send those men bound to me. I shall kill them but the rest of you will

be safe. One thing is certain. I will read no more of your letters.”

When the king saw this he cried, “I cannot send those men bound to him.”

In spite of the ominous closing words of the emperor’s letter the king

again wrote saying, “Korea to the worshipful, glorious, puissant,

merciful emperor, greeting. We are narrow and provincial people and very

deficient in manners but the contrast between our present mental

attitude and that of a few months ago is surprising. Among our

councillors some argued one way and some argued another but now

starvation has brought us all to the same point and we know that we must

become subjects of the Manchu power. But since the days of Silla there

has never been seen such a thing as a king going out from his fortress

to surrender. We cannot do it in that way. If you insist upon it you

will soon have nothing left but a fortress full of dead. I have

signified my willingness to surrender but if I should go out to you the

people would never again recognize me as king and anarchy will result. I

long ago banished the men who opposed the making of peace with the

Manchus, so I cannot send them to you, but the emperor must now be

gracious and forgive our mistake.” When the Manchu general was about to

send this scornfully back Yi Hong-ju told him that it was written by the

officials and that nothing more was possible; and that if anyone

suggested to the king the advisability of coming out it would mean

instant death. But the Manchu drove them away in a rage. One official

named Chöng On violently opposed all these attempts at securing a

cessation of hostilities and said it would be better to sit there and

rot than to surrender. He urged that the fighting be continued.

The History of Korea (vol. 2 of 2) · 第 7 / 28 章