The refugees on Kang-wha.... crossing the ferry.... the Princess blames
the commander.... grain saved.... cross-purposes.... Manchu
rafts.... Manchus gain a footing on Kang-wha.... Gen. Kim’s
flight.... Koreans massacred.... royal captives.... suicide....
ancestral tablets dishonored.... list of the dead.... from Kang-wha
to Nam-han.... fierce attacks.... bombardment.... the king learns of
the fall of Kang-wha..... Manchu victims sent.... arrangements for
the surrender.... the Manchu conditions.... the king comes out of
Nam-han.... the ceremony.... disgraceful scramble.... the king
enters Seoul.... condition of the capital.... Manchu army
retires.... a high-priced captive.... king and Crown Prince part....
rewards and punishments.... the island of Ko-do taken.... an
unselfish act.
We must leave the king and his court, facing starvation on the one hand
and the deep humiliation of surrender on the other, and see how it fared
with the people on Kang-wha. This island had earned the reputation of
being impregnable, because of the failure of the Mongols to take it when
the king of Koryo found refuge there. Kim Kyŭng-jeung was the commander
of the garrison there and Im In-gu was second in command. Chang Sin had
charge of the naval defenses. When the king sent the Crown Princess, the
royal concubines, the second and third princes and the aged officials
and their wives to Kang-wha a few days before his flight to Nam-han they
were under the escort of Gen. Kim Kyŭng-jeung, who was also taking his
wife and mother to the same place for safety. It was a long cavalcade,
stretching miles along the road. Arriving at the ferry which was to take
the party across the narrow channel to the island, Gen. Kim deliberately
began by filling the boats with the members of his own family and fifty
horse-loads of furniture which they had brought along, and the Princess
and the other royal fugitives had to wait. For two whole days the Crown
Princess was obliged to stay on the farther side in imminent danger of
seizure by the Manchus. At last she summoned Gen. Kim and said, “Are not
these boats the property of the king? Why then do you use them only for
your relatives and friends while we wait here in danger?” As there was
no possible excuse for his conduct he was obliged to accede to the
demand, but only just in time; for, though there were thousands of
people still waiting to cross, a foraging band of Manchus arrived on the
scene and the terrified multitude rushed headlong into the water, “like
leaves driven by the wind,” and multitudes were drowned. Large store of
government rice was lying at Kim-p’o and Tong-jin, and as the Manchus
had not as yet discovered it, Gen. Kim was able to get it across to the
island; but no one excepting the members of his own family and following
were allowed to have any part of it. He had such faith in the
impregnability of Kang-wha that he set no guards and spent his time in
feasting and playing chess. Prince Pong-im suggested that it would be
well to keep a good lookout, but the general replied sharply. “Who is in
command of this place, you or I?” This Gen. Kim was the son of Gen. Kim
Nyu who had charge of the defence of Nam-han and between them they
managed things about as they pleased. There was a running fire of
dispute between Gen Kim and the other leaders on Kang-wha and anything
but good order and concerted action prevailed among the forces set for
the defence of the people there. The Manchus, although without boats,
had no intention to leave the island untaken, and so they pulled down
houses far and near and made rafts with the timbers.
As it was in the dead of winter there was much ice on either bank of the
estuary, and as the tide rises some thirty feet there the crossing was a
difficult feat, even though the actual distance was small. Soon the
message came from the ferry guards that the Manchus had finished their
rafts and would soon be attempting the passage. Gen. Kim called them
fools for thinking the Manchus would dare to cross in the face of such
obstacles, but when it was announced that they had actually embarked in
their improvised craft he bestirred himself. He sent a force under Yun
Sin-ji to guard the upper ferry, Yu Chŭng-nyang took charge of the
middle ferry, Yu Sŭng-jeung guarded the lower ferry and Yi Hyŭng was on
guard at Ma-ri-san, still lower down. Gen. Kim stationed himself at the
middle ferry. There was a great lack of arms, but as there were plenty
in the Kang-wha arsenal the soldiers demanded them; but Gen. Kim
refused. It was the intention of the Manchus to cross under fire of
certain huge cannon which they had planted on the opposite bank. When
the shot from these began kicking up the dust about Gen. Kim he found he
was urgently needed elsewhere and was hardly restrained by the indignant
outcry of his lieutenants. The Manchus were then seen boarding their
strange craft and in the very fore front came a raft with seventeen men
who held shields in one hand while they paddled with the other. Admiral
Chang Sin was lower down with a fleet of boats and he made desperate
efforts to come to the place where this crossing was taking place, but
the tide which runs there like a mill-race was against him and he could
make no headway at all. He simply stood in his boat and beat his breast
with anger and chagrin. Kang Sin-sŭk was farther up the estuary with
other boats and he hastened to come down; but it was too late. The first
raft full of Manchus had gained a foothold on the island. The Koreans
found their powder wet and the arrows exhausted. As a consequence the
whole force, numbering about two hundred men, turned and fled before
seventeen Manchus. These men paced up and down the shore waiting for
reinforcements, for which they had signalled. Gen. Kim had already fled
in a small boat, which finally landed him far down the coast. Then the
whole Manchu army made its way across, some on rafts and some in boats
which were sent from the island. The Crown Princess wanted to make her
escape with her little two year old boy, but the Manchu soldiers at the
gate of the fortress would not let her come out. She then gave the boy
to Kim In and he managed to get through the lines and escape to the main
land with the child, which he took to Tang-jin in Ch’ung-ch’ŭng
Province. The Princess attempted suicide with a knife but did not
succeed. The Manchus called out to Minister Yun Pang and said, “We will
occupy the right side of the fortress and you and the royal personages
and other persons of high degree can occupy the other side.” They then
took all the common people outside the North Gate of the fortress and
set them in long lines. These people were all wondering what was about
to happen, when out came a standard bearer carrying a red flag and
behind him came a soldier with a bared sword. Walking along the lines
they cut down every one of these innocent, unoffending people. The
Manchus issued passes to the Koreans in the fortress and no one could go
in or out without showing his credentials. All the people living in the
vicinity who did not run away were massacred.
Having thoroughly subdued the island, the next move of the victors was
to rejoin the main army encamped before Nam-han. As a preparatory
measure they burned all the government buildings on the island and put
to death all the people they could find, that had not already perished.
Then taking the Crown Princess and her retinue, and all the officials,
they crossed the ferry and marched toward Nam-han. The Princess was
treated with all deference, as befitted her exalted station. As the
company was about to leave the fortress of Kang-wha on their way to
Nam-han, the aged Minister Kim Sang-yong was so deeply moved that he
determined to end his life. He entered the pavilion above the South Gate
where he found a box containing powder. Yun Pang also accompanied him,
saying that he too was weary of life, but Minister Kim said to him, “You
are in charge of the ancestral tablets, you must not prove recreant to
that sacred trust.” So Yun Pang sadly went about that task. Divesting
himself of his outer garments the Minister gave them to an attendant and
told him to bury them in place of his body. Then lighting his pipe with
flint and steel he thrust it into the box of powder. The explosion which
followed blew the whole gate to fragments and Minister Kim Sang-yong and
Kim Ik-kyŭm and Kwŭn Sun-jang and the minister’s little grandson,
thirteen years old, were blown to atoms. In order to convey the
ancestral tablets in safety to Nam-han, Yun Pang put them in a bag, but
the Manchus, who did not care to be burdened with such impedimenta,
threw the whole thing into a ditch. Yun recovered them and cleaned them
off as well as he could, and managed to carry them along. Perhaps it was
only because the Manchus wished to show an indignity toward these most
sacred of all the royal treasures. The following are the names of the
most noted men killed in the taking of Kang-wha. Sim Hyŭn, Yi Sang-gil,
Yi Si-jik, Song Si-hyŭng, Yun Chŭn, Chöng Păk-hyŭng, Kim Su-nam, Kang
Wi-bing, Yi Ton-o, Yi Ka-sang, and the following ladies of rank were
killed: The wives of Sim Pyŭn, Yun Sŭn-gŏ, Yi Sang-gyu, Han O-sang, Kwŏn
Sun-jang, Yi Ton-o, Hong Myŭng-il and the mother of Kim Kyŭng-jeung.
These people died, some by the sword, some by strangling and some by
drowning. There were darker crimes than murder too, for the Manchus did
not hesitate to seize and insult many honorable women, and even to this
day a slight taint clings to one family of the nobility because the wife
and daughter-in-law were subjected to indignities than which death were
preferable. From among the women taken there, the daughter of Whe Wŭn, a
relative of the king, became sixth wife to the Manchu Emperor, but
shortly afterward he gave her to one of his favorites as a present. And
so we leave this long line of captives wending their way eastward, and
find ourselves again within the grim walls of Nam-han.
The ravages of hunger were beginning to make the Manchu proposition seem
more feasible. The council came to the conclusion that the men whom the
Manchus demanded must be bound and sent to their fate. When the Crown
Prince heard of this he said, “I have a son and several brothers and
there is no reason why I should not go myself.” Then Chöng On said “I am
the one who have most strenuously opposed the Manchu claims. Let me go.”
Kim Sang-hon exclaimed, “Who opposed them more than I? I am surely the
one to send.” Yun Whang, Yun Chip and O Tal-ch’e all offered to go and
immolate themselves on the altar of Manchu vengeance. While the council
was going on many of the soldiers came down from the wall and looked in
at the doors and shouted, “As the Manchus have demanded these men why do
you not send them rather than let us come thus to skin and bone?” It was
with difficulty that they were sent back to their places. It was
remarked that the soldiers under Gen. Yi Si-băk did not participate in
this unruly demonstration. That night at nine o’clock a party of Manchus
approached the West Gate and one of them actually scaled the wall before
the guard was aware of it. He was speedily driven back with a
battle-club, and stones and other missiles were rained down upon the
assaulting party. Gen. Yi Si-băk was twice wounded but did not make it
known until the skirmish was over. At the same time an assault was
successfully warded off on the eastern side by Gen. Sin Kyŭng-jin who,
not content with simply driving off the attacking party, sallied out and
killed their leader and many of his followers.
[Illustration: _TORTURING A WITNESS._]
The Manchus next tried to reduce the fortress by bombardment, and it is
said that the projectiles came over the wall with such force as to bury
themselves twenty inches in the earth.
On the morning of the twenty-fifth the Manchus sounded a parley at the
West Gate and three of the officials accompanied them to the camp of the
enemy. There they were told, “The Emperor is very angry because you do
not surrender, and has ordered the destruction of the kingdom. He is to
leave tomorrow and then you will have no opportunity to surrender,
though you should wish.” The bombardment was renewed and many breaches
were made in the wall and many of the garrison were killed, but the
survivors quickly piled bags of sand in the breaches and poured water
over them. This instantly froze and made a good substitute for a wall.
But the soldiers were discouraged and came to the king in crowds
demanding that the men whom the Manchus had called for be sent. It was
evident that something must be done at once, and Hong Sö-bong undertook
another visit to the enemy’s camp, where he said, “Tomorrow the Crown
Prince and the other men that you have demanded will come out to you.”
But they answered, “We do no want to see the Crown Prince, but the king
himself.” To emphasize this, letters were shown proving that Kang-wha
had fallen into Manchu hands, and a letter was delivered to them from
one of the captive princes to the king. They were likewise told, “The
Crown Prince and one of his brothers must go to Manchuria as hostages.
The king must understand that there is nothing to fear in coming out.
The kingdom will in that way be preserved.” So they took the prince’s
letter and wended their way back to the fortress. When the letter was
opened and read a great cry of sorrow arose from the whole court.
Someone suggested that the Manchus were trying to deceive them, but the
king answered, “No, this is my son’s own hand,” and he added, “As
Kang-wha is taken of course the ancestral tablets have been destroyed.
There is then no longer any need to delay our surrender.” As a
preliminary to that final act the king ordered that all documents in
which the Manchus were spoken of slightingly be collected and burned.
The next day a letter from the king was taken to the Manchu
headquarters, wherein he said, “As the emperor is about to return to the
north, I must see him before he goes. If not, harm will result. If evil
befalls me in this step it were better that I take a sword and end my
life here. I pray you make some way whereby I can surrender without
endangering my kingdom.” The messenger explained that the king feared
that the Manchu soldiers might fall upon him when he came down from the
fortress. The Manchu general answered, “Wait till you get orders from
me; then come down.” Kim Sang-hön could not endure the thought of
surrender and so attempted to take his own life by hanging, but someone
cut him down. Chöng On likewise after an apostrophe to his “frosty
sword” plunged it into his bowels, but the wound did not prove fatal and
the king had him well cared for.
On the next day, the twenty-eighth, two men who had most strenuously
opposed the Manchus, O Tal-ch’e and Yun Chip, were made ready to send to
the Manchu camp to meet their fate. Before setting out they were brought
in before the king who wept and said, “Is it possible that we have come
to this? I am ashamed to look you in the face.” But they answered
cheerfully, “There is no cause for mourning on our account. It is our
own fault.” The king then made them sit while a eunuch brought wine and
poured it out. This was the greatest honor the king could show them.
Then he said, “I will see to it that your families are well cared for.”
Then they set out to meet their fate. The emperor was pleased at this
sign of submission and gave Ch’oe Myŭng-gil a fur robe and a cup of
wine. Calling the two men before him the emperor asked them why they had
always opposed the Manchu rule. They answered that after so many
centuries of adherence to the Ming dynasty they found it impossible to
give it up or to advise to do so. The emperor then ordered them to be
loosed but to be kept in the camp under strict surveillance.
The next day Hong Sö-bong, Ch‘oe Myŭng-gil and Kim Sin-guk repaired to
the Manchu camp and said they had come to complete arrangements for the
surrender. They were told that an altar had already been prepared at
Song-p‘a and that the ceremony must take place on the morrow. The Manchu
general said, “We have a special form of ceremony for surrender. First,
the one who surrenders is placed in a coffin; but as this is rather
humiliating we will waive it this time and begin with the second
article.” Ch‘oe asked, “Shall the king come out in his royal robes?” “By
no means. He must come out dressed in blue.” This was because blue is
the color corresponding to east, and was therefore appropriate for
Korea, which has always been called the “East Country.” “Shall he come
out the South Gate?” was the next question asked. “No, how can one who
has done wrong come out the South Gate? He must come by way of the West
Gate. After the surrender he will proceed to Seoul and he need fear no
danger, for we have recalled all our foraging parties and no one will
offer to molest him. We will send back all the Koreans that we have
taken to Manchuria and we will have a new royal seal cut for the king.”
That night the Manchu general Yonggolda brought the king a letter from
the emperor saying, “Are you indeed afraid to obey the command to come
out and surrender? You may rest assured of your safety, and not only so
but I will make it to your great advantage to come. I will put you back
on your throne, I will forgive the past, I will make a firm and binding
agreement with you as between vassal and suzerain. If you would have
your son and your grandson reign after you, you must receive a new seal
of office from us. You must stop sending embassies to China and you must
discard the Chinese calendar and adopt ours. The Crown Prince, the Prime
Minister and the latter’s son must go with us as hostages. When you die
I will send the Crown Prince to rule in your stead. I am about to invade
China and you must give us boats and troops. I must first take the
Island of Ka-do and to this end you must furnish us fifty boats and
sailors to man them, and you must give us bows and arrows. Before our
troops leave this place you must feast them. Hereafter you must observe
the birthdays of the Manchu empress and Crown Prince. You must treat our
envoys exactly as you have been accustomed to treat Chinese envoys. I
will send back across the Yalu all our Korean captives but you must pay
for them. Your people must intermarry with ours. You must release and
return all Manchu captives that you hold in your border fortresses along
the Tu-man River. As for commerce with Japan you may do as you please. I
make no law about that. You must build no more fortresses. Now, behold.
I lift you as it were from the very dead. I have recreated your Kingdom.
Do not forget my great kindness and mercy. Beware of harboring guile in
your heart. Every year you must send tribute; one hundred ounces of
gold, a thousand ounces of silver, ten thousand bags of white rice, two
thousand pieces of silk, three hundred pieces of white grass-cloth, ten
thousand pieces of colored cotton, four hundred pieces of fine linen,
one thousand pieces of coarse linen, one thousand quires of fine paper,
one thousand quires of common paper, two hundred bows made of sea-cow’s
horns, twenty-six swords the length of a man’s stature, four fine window
screens, forty mats with red flowers, twenty common swords, two hundred
pounds of dye-wood, ten pecks of black pepper, one thousand packages of
tea, one hundred tiger skins, one hundred deer skins, four hundred otter
skins, two hundred squirrel skins. You will commence sending this
tribute three years from now. As I have taken one of the king’s
relatives to wife I will remit nine thousand of the bags of rice.”
Such were the conditions on which the Manchus proposed to give the
kingdom of Korea a new lease of life. The demand for tribute was so
enormous that the Koreans never seem to have taken it seriously, and
they never once attempted to fulfill more than the merest fraction of
the demand.
It was on the last day of the first moon of the year 1637 that at last,
having exhausted all other means, having endured the rigors of a winter
siege in a fortress but half prepared for the emergency, having seen his
faithful soldiers die about him from hunger and exposure, the king was
driven to surrender to the Manchu power. The day broke with a great bank
of fog enveloping everything. The West Gate of the fortress swung open
and the royal cavalcade appeared, bearing manifest signs of the long
confinement. The king and Crown Prince, according to the directions of
the victors, were clad in blue. Behind them came the hollow-cheeked, but
loyal, soldiers who would have stayed and defended the walls to the
bitter end had the king but given the word. As the royal party descended
the winding road to the valley below, they came upon long lines of
heavy-armed Manchu cavalry drawn up on either side of the road. The king
was startled, and anxiously asked what it meant, but was told that it
was simply in honor of the coming of the king. Soon the party met the
two Manchu generals, Yonggolda and Mabuda. The king dismounted and the
proper salutations took place between them. Then they sat down and went
through a formal interchange of civilities, seated so as to face east
and west according to the proper rule of etiquette. When these
formalities were completed, they escorted the king to the place where
anciently the town of Kwang-ju stood, at which point there was a short
pause. The king’s immediate staff consisted of three ministers of state,
five officials of the second rank, five of the rank of royal scribe and
one or two others. Besides these there were only the Crown Prince and
his tutor. In front, and at a considerable distance, was a raised
platform covered with a yellow silk awning, under which the emperor sat
upon a throne. In front were drawn up a company of trumpeters. General
Yonggolda and the king dismounted and the former led the king toward the
imperial dais. Upon reaching the eastern entrance to the imperial
presence they bowed three times and struck the hand on the back of the
head. Then they entered and bowed on a mat before the emperor. The king
was then told to ascend the platform. The emperor sat facing the south
and the king sat on his left facing the west. To the left of the king
and also facing the west sat the emperor’s three sons, and finally the
king’s sons who had been brought up from Kang-wha. Below the platform
sat the Korean officials and at a distance the common people. The
emperor’s gilded throne sat on a dais raised nine inches above the
platform, beneath a yellow silk umbrella and the “plume banner.” The
emperor sat twirling an arrow in his hand. A cup of tea was handed the
king. Then the emperor said to the Korean Prime Minister through an
interpreter “Now we are inmates of one house, let us try our skill at
archery.” The Minister answered, perhaps with a shade of irony, “We know
letters, but we are not skilled in archery.” Food was brought in and
placed before the king, the same in quality and amount as that placed
before the emperor. Each drank three cups of wine and then the food was
carried away. This was simply a formality, intended to put the king at
his ease. A servant then brought in the emperor’s dogs and with his own
hand he cut meat and threw it into the air for the animals to catch.
Descending from the platform the king had the pleasure of meeting the
Crown Princess. Their brief conversation was interrupted by General
Yonggolda who came up with a magnificent horse sumptuously caparisoned,
and with a splendid sable robe. These he announced were a gift from the
emperor, but at the same time he asked why the king had not brought the
royal insignia that had been given by the Chinese emperor, that it might
be destroyed. The answer was that it had been lost at the time of the
making of the former treaty with the Manchus, but that it would be
hunted up and handed over to the Manchu general. General Yonggolda also
presented each of the ministers about the king with a sable robe. At
five o‘clock in the afternoon, as night was coming on, the emperor gave
word that the king might proceed to Seoul. It will be remembered that
the Crown Prince and Princess, together with Prince Pong-im, were to be
taken away to Manchuria as hostages. Before starting for Seoul the king
bade them adieu and then with a heavy heart turned toward his capital.
The retinue that followed the king was so numerous that when they came
to the ferry at Song-p‘a and found there were too few boats to convey
them all, there was a disgraceful scramble for first place, and the king
was hustled and dragged about in a most unbecoming manner. Finally the
crossing was effected and as the cavalcade proceeded toward Seoul they
saw the Manchu camps along the way crowded with Korean women, some of
whom were wailing as if their hearts would break, while others were
making merry over the prospect of being carried away to the north.
The Manchu soldiery had been ordered out of Seoul to make room for the
king and so the royal party found the way blocked by an immense crowd of
Manchu soldiers loaded down with booty and leading hundreds of captives.
As the king passed by, these miserable beings cried out to him to save
them, but their captors urged them on with word and lash. The crowd was
so dense, and the out-going stream of men pressed so closely against
those entering, that many in the king’s retinue were taken for captives
and were seized and carried away. Even some men of noble blood were
thus, in the darkness and confusion, spirited away and never heard of
again.
It was seven o’clock when the king entered the gate of Seoul. The city
was almost deserted. Dead men lay in heaps along the streets. The houses
on both sides of the street were in ashes. All the poultry and pigs were
gone and only dogs remained, and these had been transformed into wolves
and were gorging themselves on the dead bodies along the way. As the
Ch‘ang-gyöng Palace was nearest the East Gate the royal party went there
to spend the night. All night long, in spite of the Emperor’s orders,
Manchu soldiers scoured the streets, burning and pillaging and working
their terrible will for the last time on the deserted capital.
Two days later the Manchu army was to start on its long journey to the
north and the king went three miles outside the East Gate to bid adieu
to the emperor, for it was determined to pass around Seoul on the east
and so strike northward. It took thirteen days for the whole army to get
on the move. There were 120,000 men in all. Thirty thousand of these
were Mongols and they took the road to the east through Ham-gyŭng
Province and crossed the Tu-man River. There were 70,000 Manchus and
20,000 Chinese from Liao-tung. Generals Kong Yu-dŭk and Kyöng Myŭng-jung
with 20,000 men took boat at Yong-san and sailed north to strike Ka-do
Island.
The day following that on which the king took leave of the Emperor, the
generals Yonggolda and Mabuda came to the palace to confer with the
king. The Minister Kim Nyu, as if to anticipate them, said “The relation
between us now is that of son and father. We stand ready to fulfill our
obligations on that basis even though you ask for soldiers to help on
the invasion of China and the seizure of Nanking.” Hong Sö-bong asked
that in view of the scarcity of gold in Korea part of the tribute be
remitted, but it was not granted. Kim Nyu’s daughter had been carried
away captive to Manchuria and he had plead with the two generals and the
king himself had aided him but without avail. He now offered a thousand
ounces of silver for her ransom. It was accepted but the result was
disastrous to others for it set a precedent, and a like sum was asked
for each of the high-born captives, with the result that few of them
were ever ransomed.
The Emperor’s ninth brother had charge of all the captives, and on the
fifth day of the second moon the crown prince was allowed to go to the
king to say farewell. He was accompanied by a guard of six Manchus who
cut the interview very short and hurried him away to the camp outside
the East Gate. On the seventh the king and his court went out to this
camp to say good-bye, and the Manchus set out a fine banquet, at which
some of the Koreans ate greedily while others would not touch a morsel.
The next day the order was given to start on the long march into
Manchuria. The royal hostages were accompanied by fifteen high
officials. The king and his court accompanied the party twenty _li_ out,
as far as Chang-neung, where with many tears the final separation took
place.
The work of reconstruction was now to be commenced, and of course the
first work was to punish those who had proved unfaithful and to reward
those who had proved loyal. First Gen. Kim Cha-jŭm, who had lain so long
at Yang-geun and would not move to help the king, was banished and with
him Sim Keui-wŭn, Sin Kyöng-wan and the governor of Kang-wŭn Province
who had hesitated to throw away their lives and those of their men in
the perfectly hopeless task of breaking up the siege of Nam-han. Admiral
Chang Sin, who had been prevented by the swift outflowing tide from
opposing the crossing of the Manchus to Kang-wha was killed by
strangulation outside the Little West Gate. Kim Chyŭng-jeung who had
been in command of Kang-wha, and his lieutenant Yi Min-gu were both
banished to distant points. The king gave a great feast at Mo-wha-gwan
to those who had aided him while besieged, both nobleman and common
soldier. The four most prominent generals each received the gift of a
horse. All the courtiers were advanced one step in the ladder of
officialdom. Other gifts and positions were distributed. Those who had
deserted the royal party when on that hard ride to Nam-han were seized
and imprisoned. Sim Chip, who had refused to lie about his companion who
went to the Manchu camp to personate the king’s brother, was banished to
a distant point. Kim Sang-hön had fled to the country when the king came
out of Nam-han to surrender. Being now included in those who received
marks of royal favor, he wrote declaring that the could not receive
them, for in the first place he had urged the king not to surrender and
in the second place had run away and had also torn to pieces the letter
written by the king. “But,” he added “though weak and forced to
surrender, the king must always keep these things in mind and seek for
means to be avenged on the Manchus.”
The king had sent Generals Yu Rim and Im Kyöng-ŭp to aid in the taking
of Ka-do Island in the north. In the third moon Gen. Mabuda took fifty
boats and crossed over from the mainland to the west side of these
islands, which the Chinese garrison had left unprotected. Landing his
force he ascended at night a hill to the rear of the Chinese camp. With
the morning dawn he made a sudden and fierce attack. Meanwhile the
Korean general Im Kyöng-ŭp had arrived with forty boats and had
disembarked on the eastern shore. The Chinese, thrown into confusion,
rushed down to the shore and tumbled into these forty boats that they
found unguarded. But the crowd was so great that only a small fraction
could be accommodated. As a consequence they swamped most of the boats
and hundreds perished. The Chinese commander, seeing that all was lost,
committed suicide. There were still great numbers of Chinese among the
mountains fighting desperately. These were all cut down. It is said that
in this short campaign between forty and fifty thousand Chinese were
killed. During the unequal battle the Chinese kept calling out, “What
cause for enmity is there between Korea and China?” This was of course
addressed to the Koreans who fought with the Manchus. After the battle
the Manchu general Kong Yu-dŭk gave generals Im and Yu a present of 250
Chinese captives, but the former said, “I do not care for these men.
Exchange them for a like number of Korean captives who are going into
Manchuria as slaves.” This was done, and Gen. Im’s name has come down to
posterity fragrant with the odor of this unselfish deed.