The “Frontier Guard”.... Japanese attempts at making a treaty.... agent
at the palace.... the Regent’s power on the wane.... a
“Combination”.... the Regent retires.... a puppet....“infernal
machine”.... reforms.... a dangerous memorial.... fight with the
Japanese.... two parties in Japan.... Japanese commission....
negotiations.... treaty signed.... a mysterious conflagration....
Japanese minister.... French priests released.... a curious book....
anti-Christian policy abandoned.... commission to Japan....
conspiracy.... liberal party.... hopeful outlook.... the Min
policy.... split between the Min and liberal factions.... Minister
to Japan.... military students.... regular troops neglected....
emeute of 1882.... Japanese legation attacked.... the palace
entered.... the Queen escapes.... the ex-Regent quiets the
soldiers.... a mock funeral.
In order to understand the interesting train of events that transpired
in 1873 it will be necessary to go back and review the relations that
existed between Korea and Japan.
At the close of the Japanese invasion an arrangement had been arrived at
between Japan and Korea by the terms of which the Japanese placed a
number of traders at Fusan. The popular belief of the Koreans that the
government accepted these as hostages in place of an annual tribute of
three hundred Japanese female hides is an amusing fiction which is
intended to offset the ignominy of the ear and nose monument in Kyoto.
This colony was called the Su-ja-ri or “Frontier Guard.” The Korean
government appropriated ten million cash a year to its support. The
Japanese claim that these people were not hostages but were merchants
and were placed there to form a commercial _point d’appui_ between the
two countries. That the money paid for their support was of the nature
of a tribute is neither claimed by the Japanese nor admitted by the
Koreans; in fact the terms always used in describing these payments
implies the coördinate degree of the recipient.
This Japanese colony was continued up to the year 1869 without
intermission but it was not destined to remain undisturbed. No sooner
had the Imperial government become established in Japan than the Emperor
appointed a commission to approach the Korean government through the
time-honored avenue of approach, namely Fusan and the prefect of
Tong-nă, with a view to establishing closer commercial and diplomatic
relations. This commissioner transacted the business through the Daimyo
of Tsushima who sent the Imperial letter to the prefect of Tong-nă and
asked that it be transmitted to the capital. After reading it the
prefect refused to send it, on the plea that whereas Japan had always
addressed Korea in terms of respect she now adopted a tone of
superiority and called herself an Empire. The envoy urged that Japan had
recently undergone a complete change, that she had adopted Western ideas
and had centralised her government, and urged that the missive must be
sent on to Seoul. The prefect was prevailed upon to copy the letter and
send it on to the Regent but the Reply came back forthwith “We will not
receive the Japanese letter. Drive the envoy away.” The following year
the annual grant of rice was suddenly discontinued without a word of
warning and the Japanese in Fusan were greatly exercised thereby. They
made a loud outcry and their government made repeated attempts to come
to an understanding with the Korean government but without success.
It was in 1870 that the Japanese Hanabusa, called Wha-bang Eui-jil by
the Koreans, came with an urgent request that a treaty of commerce be
signed, but he was likewise unsuccessful. The King, however, was nearing
the age when the Regent must hand over to him the reins of power and the
Queen, a woman of natural ability and of imperious will, was gathering
about her a faction which was wholly inimical to the plans and the
tactics of the Regent. The latter found to his chagrin that the woman
whom he had placed on the throne with his son with special reference to
the cementing of his own power was likely to become the instrument of
his undoing. Sure it is that in spite of the hatred which the Regent
evinced against the Japanese this same Hanabusa came to Seoul in 1871 or
early in 1872, in a quite unofficial manner, and was given quarters at
the palace where he was in constant communication with the Queen and the
members of her faction, and where, by exhibiting curious objects of
western manufacture, such as a toy telephone and the like, he amused his
royal patroness and won his way into the favor of the party that was
shortly to step into the place made vacant by the retiring Regent.
The queen’s faction were diametrically opposed to the most cherished
prejudices of the Regent. They favored, or at least looked with
complacency upon, the growth of Roman Catholicism, they favored the
policy of listening to China’s advice in the matter of foreign
relations. They were doubtless urged in this direction partly by pure
opposition to the Regent and partly by the representations of the
Japanese who had gained the ear of royalty. The palace was the scene of
frequent and violent altercations between the heads of these two
factions, but an open rupture did not occur until the year 1873 when an
official named Ch‘oe Ik-hyŭn memorialised the throne speaking
disparagingly of the presence of the Japanese in the palace and, toward
the end, charging the Regent with indirection in the use of the public
funds. The king had for some time been growing restive under the control
of the Regent, being led to some extent by the new party of which the
queen was the patroness and at whose head stood her brother, Min
Seung-ho. The memorial was received with marks of approval by the king
and he immediately cut off a large part of the revenues of the Regent.
At the same time Min Seung-ho approached the Regent’s son, Yi Chă-myŭn,
elder brother to the king, and suggested that if the Regent could be
removed they two might share the leadership of affairs. The young man
accepted the offer and ranged himself in line with the opposition. The
Regent was now in great straits. The combination against him had proved
too strong, and in the last moon of 1873 he shook off the dust of Seoul
from his feet and retired to Ka-p‘yŭng, thirty-five miles to the east of
the capital. After five months of residence there he returned as far as
the village of Ko-deung ten miles to the north-east of Seoul.
Among the people there was still a strong element that favored the
ex-Regent. They missed a strong personality at the helm of state, for
the Koreans have always preferred a strong even if tyrannical
leadership. In recognition of this sentiment it was deemed wise to put
the ex-Regent’s brother, whom he had always kept severely in the
back-ground, in the prominent if not necessarily important position of
Prime Minister. He proved as was intended a mere puppet in the hands of
the Min party who by this time had absorbed the whole power of the
government. He was allowed, in compensation for this, to control the
sale of public offices to his own profit, but always under the vigilant
eye of the dominant faction.
A new era in the metamorphosis of Korea had now begun. Public affairs in
the peninsula took a new direction. Min Seung-ho was court favorite and
it looked as if matters would soon settle down to something like their
former tranquility. But the latter days of the year were destined to
bring a severe shock to the leaders of the new party. One day Min
Seung-ho received a letter purporting to be from a certain party with
whom he was on intimate terms, and with it came a casket wrapped in
silk. He was requested to open it only in the presence of his mother and
his son. Late at night in his inner chamber he opened it in the presence
of these members of his family, but when he lifted the cover the casket
exploded with terrific force killing the three instantly and setting the
house on fire. As Min Seung-ho had but one enemy bold enough to
perpetrate the deed the popular belief that it was done by his great
rival is practically undisputed, though no direct evidence perhaps
exists.
Min T‘ă-ho immediately stepped into the place made vacant by the
terrible death of the favorite. Soon after this the government
discontinued the use of the 100 cash pieces with which the Regent had
diluted the currency of the country. In the second moon of 1874 the
crown prince was born. The year was also signalised by the remittance in
perpetuity of the tax on real estate in and about the city of Seoul.
In 1875 three of the ex-Regent’s friends, led by Cho Ch‘ung-sik,
memorialised the throne begging that the Prince Tai-wŭn be again
reinstated in power. For this rash act they were all condemned to death,
and it was only by the personal intercession of the ex-Regent that the
sentence was commuted to banishment for life. Even so, Cho Ch‘ung-sik
was killed at his place of exile.
In September the Japanese man-of-war _Unyo Kwan_, after making a trip to
Chefoo, approached the island of Kang-wha to make soundings. Approaching
the town of Yöng-jŭng, they sent a small boat ashore to look for water.
As they neared the town they were suddenly fired upon by the Koreans in
the little fortress, who evidently took them for Frenchmen or Americans.
A moment later the small boat was turned about and was making toward the
man-of-war again. The commander gave instant orders for summary
punishment to be inflicted for this perfectly unprovoked assault. He
opened fire on the town and soon silenced the batteries. A strong body
of marines was landed which put the garrison to flight, seized all the
arms and provisions and fired the town. The man-of-war then steamed away
to Nagasaki to report what had occurred.
At this time there were in Japan two parties who took radically
different views of the Korean question. One of these parties, led by
Saigo of Satsuma, smarting under the insulting way in which Korea had
received the Japanese overtures, would listen to nothing but instant
war. The other party, which saw more clearly the vital points in the
question at issue, urged peaceful measures. The policy of the latter
prevailed and it was decided to send an embassy to attempt the
ratification of a treaty, and if that failed war was to be the
alternative. This peace policy was so distasteful to the war party that
Saigo returned to Satsuma and began to set in motion those agencies
which resulted in the sanguinary Satsuma Rebellion.
For many centuries there had been a strip of neutral territory between
the Korean border, the Yalu River, and the Chinese border which was
marked by a line of stakes. This strip of land naturally became the
hiding place of refugees and criminals from both countries, for here
they were free from police supervision whether Korean or Chinese. The
statesman Li Hung-chang recognized this to be a menace to the wellfare
of both countries and took steps to put an end to it, by sending a
strong body of troops who, in conjunction with a gunboat, succeeded in
breaking up the nest of desperadoes and rendering the country fit for
colonisation. Two years later this strip of land was definitely
connected with China and the two countries again faced each other across
the waters of the Yalu.
The Korean attack upon the Unyo Kwan off Kang-wha proved the lever which
finally roused Japan to active steps in regard to the opening of Korea.
The war party regarded it as their golden opportunity, while the peace
party believed it would pave the way for a peaceful accomplishment of
their purpose. An envoy was despatched to Peking to sound the policy of
that government. The Chinese, fearing that they would be held
responsible for the misdoings of Korea denied, all responsibility and
virtually acknowledged the independence of the peninsula. At the same
time a military and naval expedition under Kiroda Kiyotaku, seconded by
Inouye Bunda, sailed for Kang-wha with a fleet of gunboats, containing
in all some 800 men. The Chinese had already advised the Korean
government to make terms with the Japanese, and this in fact was the
wish of the dominant party; so, when the Japanese demand reached Seoul,
that commissioners be sent to Kang-wha to treat with the visitors the
government quickly complied. Two high officials. Sin Hön and Yun
Cha-seung, were despatched to Kang-wha and the first definite step was
taken toward casting off the old time isolation policy, the fond dream
of the ex-Regent.
The Japanese envoy opened the conference by asking why the Koreans had
given no answer to the repeated requests of the Japanese for the
consummation of a treaty of peace and friendship. The Korean
commissioner replied that from the very earliest times Japan had always
addressed Korea in respectful language, but that now she had arrogated
to herself the title of Great Japan and called her ruler the Great
Emperor. This seemed to imply the vassalage of Korea, an entirely new
role for her to play. The Japanese replied that the mere assumption of
the name of empire on the part of Japan implied nothing as to the status
of Korea one way or the other. This seemed to satisfy the Koreans.
The Japanese then asked why they had been fired upon at Yŭng-jŭng. The
answer was that the Japanese were dressed in European clothes and were
therefore mistaken for Europeans. But when the Japanese asked why the
Koreans had not recognized the Japanese flag, especially since the
Japanese government had been careful to send copies of their flag to
Korea and ask that one be sent to each of the prefectures throughout the
land, the Korean commissioners could find nothing to say and had to
confess that they had been in error.
All these things were duly reported to the authorities in Seoul where
daily councils were being held to discuss the important questions. The
ex-Regent sent an urgent appeal to the ministers not to make a treaty,
but the tide had turned, and after some sharp discussion as to how the
two governments should be designated in the treaty it was finally
ratified on February 27th 1876, and Korea was a hermit no longer. Three
months later a semi official envoy was sent to Japan in the person of
Kim Keui-su.
Meanwhile the closing days of 1875 had beheld a curious event in Seoul.
In the dead of night the house of Yi Ch’oe-eung, the Prime Minister and
the brother of the ex-Regent, was set on fire by an unknown hand and
burned to the ground. None of the inmates were injured. The culprit was
seized and under torture confessed that one Sin Ch’ŭl-gyun had hired him
to do the work. Sin was therefore seized and put to death as a traitor.
Whether he was indeed guilty and if so whether he was but an agent in
the business are questions that have never been answered.
It was not until the sixth moon of 1879 that, in pursuance of the new
treaty, a Japanese Minister, Hanabusa, was sent to represent his
government at Seoul. We will remember that he had already served his
government most successfully at the Korean capital in a private
capacity. The new legation was situated at the Ch’ŭn Yŭn-jŭng near the
lotus pond outside the West Gate. At almost the very same time two
French priests arrived in Seoul and took up their quarters outside this
same gate and began to proselyte. They were forthwith seized by the
authorities, and were for some time in imminent danger. There was
however a strong feeling in the government that this was inconsistent
with the new role that it had elected to play and that it was distinctly
dangerous. A halt was called and the Japanese Minister took advantage of
it to inform the authorities that he had received a message from the
French Minister in Tokyo asking him to use his good offices in behalf of
these endangered men. The Minister added his own advice that the Korean
government should hand over the imprisoned men at once. This was done
and the Japanese Minister forwarded them to Japan.
One year later, in the summer of 1880, Kim Hong-jip, a man of
progressive tendencies, went to Japan. Soon after arriving there he met
a Chinaman who seems to have made a strong impression on him. This
Chinaman had many talks with him and gave him a long manuscript dealing
with the subject of Korea’s foreign relations, which he asked should be
transmitted to the king of Korea. In it he advised the cementing of
friendship with the United States, China and Japan, but he spoke
disparagingly of Russia. It mentioned Protestant Christianity as being
the basis of Western greatness and advised that its propagation be
encouraged. It compared the division of Christianity into Roman Catholic
and Protestant to the division of Confucianism into the two sects Chu-ja
and Yuk-sang-san. When Kim Hong-jip brought this manuscript and placed
it in the hands of the king it created a profound sensation, and
awakened the bitterest opposition. Many advised that he be killed as an
introducer of Christianity. The most violent of all were Yi Man-son,
Hong Chă-hak and Păk Nak-kwan who memorialized the throne urging the
execution of Kim and the overthrow of all Christian work in the
peninsula. This met with the severest censure from the king, not because
it was in itself seditious but because it was an attempt to reinstate
the policy of the Regency. Yi Man-son was banished, Hong Chă-hak was
executed and Păk Nak-kwan was imprisoned. This put an end to
anti-Christian talk for the time being and it was never again seriously
raised.
By the fourth moon of 1881 the progressive tendencies of the new regime
had made such headway that the king determined to send a commission to
Japan to look about and see something of the world, from which Korea had
been so carefully secluded. For this purpose His Majesty selected Cho
Chun-Yŭng, Pak Chöng-yang, Sim Sang hak, Cho Pyŭng-jik, Min Chong-muk. O
Yun jung, Om Se-yŭng, Kang Mun-hŭng, Hong Yŭng-sik, Yi Wŭn-whe, and Yi
Pong-eui. These men immediately took passage for Japan. At the same time
a party of young men was sent to Tientsin under the chaperonage of Kim
Yun-sik on a similar errand.
Late in this year, 1881, four of the adherents of the ex-Regent
conspired to overthrow the government, dethrone the king and put in his
place Yi Chă-sŭn, a son of the ex-Regent by a concubine. The ex-Regent
was then to be brought back to power. The last day of the eighth moon
was set for the consummation of this plot. But on the day before,
Nam-Myŭng sŭn and Yi P’ung-nă divulged the whole scheme to the favorite
Min T’ă-ho, and as a result the four arch-conspirators were seized on
the morning of the day set for the culmination of the plot and within a
few days eleven others were taken. In the eleventh moon they were all
beheaded, and at the same time Yi Chă-sŭn was given poison and expired.
By this time a real liberal party had begun to form. Its leading spirits
were Kim Ok-kyun, Pak Yŭng-hyo, So Kwang-bom, Hong Yŭng-sik, Yi To-jă,
Sin Keui-sŭn and Pak Yŭng-kyo. These were all men of very high family
and held important positions under the government. They were in favor of
the immediate opening of Korea to intercourse with foreign powers and
the establishment of reforms such as had been effected in Japan. The
king was largely influenced by the progressive policy mapped out by
these men and an era of rapid advancement seemed to be dawning. A
special department was established called the Ki-mu or Machinery Bureau
which was to take charge of the introduction of foreign machinery and
implements of all kinds.
It is important to note the position of the Min faction at this point.
It was with the downfall of the Regent that, through the queen’s
influence, the Min faction sprang to life. With the utmost celerity all
government positions were filled with them or their sympathizers and it
seemed sure that they would have a long lease of official life. The
extreme opposition of the Regent to all reforms and to the opening of
the country to foreign intercourse naturally inclined his rivals in that
very direction and it was directly through the Min faction that the
policy of non-seclusion was inaugurated. The queen likewise was in favor
of opening up the country to the civilizing influences of the West. But
with the Min faction, as a whole, the question of national policy were
entirely secondary to the one main idea of preserving the ascendency
which they had gained. Here is the key to all that followed. The Mins
were not at that time facing China-ward and they never would have been
had it not become necessary in order to preserve the enviable position
they occupied. As we have seen, a number of high officials who had
imbibed something of the spirit of reform which had permeated Japan were
filling the ear of the king and queen with plans for reform. They were
meeting with a favorable hearing and in proportion as they succeeded,
the power of the Mins must wane; not because the latter disliked the
idea of opening up Korea but because it was another faction that had the
work in hand, and that faction would naturally attain more and more
power at court as success crowned their efforts. It was just here that
the difficulty began. If the liberal leaders had been willing to put the
working out of the plan into the hands of the Min faction all might have
gone along smoothly and Korea might have realized some of the hopes of
the would-be reformers. But such self-abnegation could scarcely be
expected from men who saw in the carrying out of their brilliant scheme
not only rewards for themselves but the advancement of the country. The
personal element was present in full force and this was the rock on
which the reformation of Korea split. We may believe that it was at this
point that the Min faction determined its policy, a policy that led it
straight into the arms of China. From this point it became not the
progressive party but the conservative party. Its leading members were
Min T’ă-ho, Min Yŭng-muk, Min Tu-ho, Han Kyu-jik and Cho Ryŭng-ha. There
was one of the Mins however who held with the liberal party, for a time
at least. This was Min Yŭng-ik, nephew to the queen, adopted son of Min
Seung-ho who had been killed by the infernal machine in 1874. That this
man took his stand at first with the liberals is shown by the fact that
in the spring of 1882 he joined Kim Hong-jip, Kim Ok-kyun, Hong Yŭng-sik
and other liberal leaders in advising the king to select 200 young men
and engage a Japanese instructor to drill them in military tactics. The
advice was followed, and Lieutenant Isobayachi was employed for that
purpose. Without delay he began work at the Ha-do-gam near the East
Gate. At the same time a number of young men were sent to Japan to study
military matters. Among these the most prominent was Sŭ Chă-p’il who was
intimately connected with the liberal movement, though at that time he
was too young to take a prominent part.
The first regularly appointed Minister to the Japanese was Pak Yŭng-hyo
the liberal leader. In the early part of 1882 he departed on his
mission. It was at Chemulpo on board the little Japanese steamer that
the Korean flag was first designed. Pak Yŭng-hyo, Kim Ok-kyun, Sŭ
Kwang-bom and Sŭ Chă-p’il were all present when it was hoisted for the
first time in honor of the first Minister to Japan.
While the two hundred men who were being drilled at the Ha-do-gam were
being plentifully fed and clothed by the government, the 3,700 troops,
called the Hul lyŭn To-gam, the former Royal Guard, were being badly
neglected. Their pay was two or three months in arrears and for a
similar period they had not received a grain of rice. They were
naturally incensed and there were angry mutterings against the two
hundred men who were being treated so much better than they. When the
king was made aware of this he ordered that a month’s allowance of rice
be given out to these discontented troops. This work was put into the
hands of Min Kyŭm-ho the overseer of the government finances, and he in
turn handed the matter over to his major-domo who, it appears, sold the
good rice and with the proceeds bought a large quantity of the poorest
quality which he mixed with sand and doled out to the hungry troops. The
result may be imagined. They congregated in various places and
determined that since they must die in any event they would rather die
fighting than starving. They strengthened the feeble-hearted among their
own number by threats of death in case any proved unfaithful and refused
to assist in the work in hand. On the night of the ninth of the sixth
moon, in the midst of heavily falling rain, they arose _en masse_ and
proceeded to their general’s house, where they announced that they were
going to take revenge on those who had wronged them. That they not only
did not attack him but that they even had the courtesy to go and tell
him what they were about to do shows clearly that he was in no wise to
blame for the ill-treatment they had received. They also sent a
messenger to the ex-Regent, but the purport of the message is not known.
They then hastened to the residence of Min Kyŭm-ho, but he had heard of
the trouble and had fled to the royal presence for protection. The
infuriated soldiery vented their rage on the property by tearing down
the house and destroying the furniture. They seized the dishonest
major-domo and beat him to death upon the spot. The sight of this
aroused all their worst instincts and, separating into bands of two or
three hundred, they hastened to different parts of the town to complete
what had been begun. Some ran to the prisons and liberated the inmates
who naturally joined the ranks of the rioters. One of these prisoners
was Păk Nak-kwan who had memorialized the throne in favor of the
ex-Regent. They took him on their shoulders and rushed through the
streets shouting “Păk Chung-sin” or “Păk the patriot.” For this, a few
months later he was torn to pieces by bullocks outside the West Gate.
Part of the mob went to the Ha-do-gam, but on their approach the
Japanese military instructor took to his heels and made for the Japanese
Legation. But he was overtaken and cut down in the streets. Another
detachment hastened to the Japanese Legation itself, but found the gates
shut and barred. Within were nine Japanese. In order to make it light
enough to carry on their dastardly work the assaulting mob threw
firebrands over the wall and thus illuminated the place, for it was
night. The little company of Japanese soon became aware that they could
not hope to stand a siege and that their only hope lay in a bold dash.
Suddenly the gates flew open and the nine determined men rushed out
brandishing their swords and firing their revolvers straight into the
crowd. The Koreans were taken wholly by surprise and beat a hasty
retreat. In their headlong flight many of them fell into the lotus pond
adjoining. As the Japanese hurried along to the governor’s yamen which
was not far away, they cut down a few of the mob. They found that the
governor had gone to the palace and so they turned their faces toward
Chemulpo and hastened away. Another party of the insurgents went outside
the city to various monasteries which they burned to the ground. The
most important of these was the Sin-heung Monastery outside the
Northeast Gate. This move was dictated by hate of the Min faction whose
patroness was known to be very well affected toward Buddhism and to have
made friends with the monks.
Other parties scattered over the city carrying the torch to the door of
every member of the Min faction. The houses of Min Kyŭm-ho, Min T’ă-ho,
Min Yŭng-ik, Min Yŭng-so, Min Yŭng-jun, Min Yŭng-ju, Min Ch’ang-sik,
Prince Heung-in, Kim Po-hyŭn and Yun Chă-dŭk were torn down by the use
of long ropes. The furniture was piled in a great heap in the street and
burned. The only member of the Min clan however that was seized that
night was Min Ch’ang-sik who lived at Kon-dang-kol. He had the
unenviable reputation of having taken large sums of money from the
people by indirection. When he was seized he cried “I am not a Min; my
name is Păk.” They bound him and carried him through the streets
shouting “Is this a Min or a Păk?” The populace answered fiercely “He is
a Min.” So they took him down to the big bell and stabbed him in a
hundred places with their swords and cut his mouth from ear to ear.
When the morning of the tenth broke Seoul was in a terrible condition.
Bands of frenzied soldiery were ranging through the streets. The people
either huddled about their fireplaces with barred doors or else sought
safety in flight from the city. At last the mob rendezvoused in front of
the palace gate and finding no opposition they boldly entered. Rushing
into the inner court of the king’s private apartments they found
themselves face to face with His Majesty. About him stood a few of the
officials who had not fled the city. There were Min Kyŭm-ho, Kim
Po-hyŭn, Cho Ryŭng-ha and Prince Heung-in. Rushing forward the soldiers
struck their swords against the floor and the door-posts and demanded
that these men be handed over to them. It was quite evident that there
was no escape and that by refusal they would only endanger the king’s
life. So these men made obeisance to His Majesty and then stepped down
into the hands of the soldiers. Min Kyŭm-ho and Kim Po-hyŭn were
instantly struck down and hacked in pieces before the very eyes of the
king. Of Kim nothing remained but the trunk of his body. Cho Ryŭng-ha
was spared but Prince Heung-in died the same day for he was mashed to a
jelly by the gun-stocks of the soldiers.
This done, the soldiers demanded the person of the queen. The king
sternly demanded how they dared ask of him the person of his Queen.
Without answering they rushed away to her private apartments. Seizing
palace women by the hair they dragged them about demanding where their
mistress was. But while this was going on one of the palace guard named
Hong Cha-heui entered the Queen’s presence and said that she was in
danger and that her only hope of escape lay in getting on his back and
being carried out. This she instantly did. A skirt was hastily thrown
over her head and the heroic man took her straight out through the midst
of the infuriated soldiery. Some of them seized hold of him and demanded
whom he was carrying. He replied that it was one of the palace women,
his sister, whom he was conveying to a place of safety. His heroism was
rewarded by seeing her safely outside the palace and comfortably housed
at the residence of Yun T‘ă-jŭn to the west of the palace. The next day
she was taken in a closed chair toward the village of Chang-wŭn in the
district of Ch‘ung-ju in Ch’ung ch‘ŭng Province, where she arrived
several days later. In that place she found refuge in the house of Min
Eung-sik. This journey was made not along the main road but along
by-paths among the mountains, and it is said that Hong Cha-heui lost
several of his toes as a result of this terrible march, for shoes could
not be procured.
But we must return to the palace. The ex-Regent appeared on the scene
while the solders were still raging through the palace in search of the
Queen. He gave the signal to stop, and instantly the soldiers obeyed and
quietly left the palace. That these soldiers, worked up as they were to
a perfect frenzy, should have obeyed the commands of the Prince Tai-wŭn
so instantly and implicitly would seem to argue a closer connection with
this outbreak than any overt act on his part would give us warrant to
affirm.
The ex-Regent was now in power again. He supposed that the Queen had
been killed, and on the next day he summoned the officials and said that
though the Queen was dead yet her body had not been found; they must
therefore take some of her clothing and perform the funeral rites with
them instead. The proclamation went forth, and from the middle of the
sixth moon the people went into mourning for their Queen.