IN KOREA WITH MARQUIS ITO
[Illustration: Marquis Ito]
IN KOREA
WITH
MARQUIS ITO
PART I
A NARRATIVE OF PERSONAL EXPERIENCES
PART II
A CRITICAL AND HISTORICAL INQUIRY
BY
GEORGE TRUMBULL LADD, LL.D.
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
NEW YORK: 1908
Copyright, 1908, by
CHARLES SCRIBNER’S SONS
Published February, 1908
[Illustration]
TO THE DEAR COMPANION OF ITS EXPERIENCES
AND THE READY SCRIBE OF MUCH OF ITS MANUSCRIPT
THIS BOOK IS GRATEFULLY AND AFFECTIONATELY DEDICATED
PREFACE
The contents and purposes of this volume may be conveniently classified
under three heads; for here are statements of fact, expressions of
opinion, and certain ventures into the realm of conjecture. The
statements of fact are, almost without exception, made on grounds of
personal observation, or on the authority of the most competent and
trustworthy first-hand witnesses. For the earlier periods of the history
of the relations, friendly or hostile, between Japan and Korea, these
authorities are indeed no longer living, and they cannot be subjected to
cross-questioning. But the choice between the truth they told and the
mistakes and falsehoods of a contradictory character is in most cases not
difficult to make. For events of the present generation the reader will
find the statements of the witnesses quoted, and of the documents cited,
to be in general unimpeachable. I believe, then, that what is claimed to
be truth of fact in this book is as nearly exact and worthy of implicit
confidence as it is ordinarily given to human beings to be in matters
pertaining to the history of human affairs.
In expressing my own opinions as to the truth or untruth of certain
contentions, and as to the merit or demerit of certain transactions, I
have uniformly tried to base these opinions upon the fullest obtainable
knowledge of the facts. In some cases the judgments at which I have been
compelled to arrive contradict those which have been and still are widely
current; in some cases they can scarcely fail to be interpreted as an
impeachment of other writers who have had either a narrator’s interest
only in the same events or even a more substantial concernment. I have no
wish to deny the apologetic character of this book. But at every point
the charge of being swerved from the truth by prejudice may be met with
these replies: First, very unusual opportunities were afforded the author
for ascertaining the truth; and, second, in almost every case where the
evidence brought forward seems insufficient there is much more of the
same sort of evidence already in his possession, and still more to be
had for the asking. But in these days one must limit the size of such
undertakings. Few readers wish to wade through a long stretch of shoals
in order to reach the firm ground of historical verity.
As to the ventures at conjecture which are sparingly put forth, let them
be rated at their seeming worth, after the facts have been carefully
studied and the opinions weighed, which have called out these ventures.
They are confessedly only entitled to a claim for a certain degree,
higher or lower, of probability. The status of all things in the Far
East—and for the matter of that, all over the civilized world—is just
now so unstable and loaded with uncertainties that no human insight can
penetrate to the centre of the forces at work, and no human foresight can
look far into the future.
The division of the book into two parts may seem at first sight to injure
its unity. Such a division has for its result, as a matter of course,
a somewhat abrupt change in the character of the material employed and
in the style of its handling. The First Part is a narrative of personal
observations and experiences. It gives the results, however, of a
serious study of a complicated situation; and it pronounces more or less
confident judgments upon a number of subordinate questions involved
in the general problem of establishing satisfactory relations between
two nations which are inseparably bound together—physically, socially,
politically—whether for the weal or for the woe of both. In the Second
Part the attempt is made to submit these judgments to the tests of
history. But what _is_ history? Of no other civilized country than
Korea is the truth of the cynical saying more obvious that much of what
has been written as history is lies, and that most of real history is
unwritten. All of which has tended to make the writer duly appreciate the
unspeakable advantage of having access to authentic information which,
for diplomatic and other sufficient reasons, has not hitherto been made
public.
The underlying literary and logical unity which binds together the two
seemingly diverse Parts of the one book is made clear by stating in
general terms the problem upon which it aims to throw light. This problem
concerns the relations to be established between Japan and Korea—a
question which has for centuries been proposed in various imperative and
even affective ways to both these nations. It is also a question which
has several times disturbed greatly the entire Orient, and the recent
phases of which have come near to upsetting the expectations and more
deliberate plans of the entire civilized world. To lay the foundations,
under greatly and suddenly changed conditions, of a satisfactory
and permanent peace, one of the greatest statesmen of the Orient is
giving—with all his mind and heart—the later years of his eventful
life. I hope that this book may make its readers know somewhat better
what the problem has been and is; and what Prince Ito, as Japanese
Resident-General in Korea, is trying to accomplish for its solution.
It remains for the Preface only to acknowledge the author’s obligations.
These are so special to one person—namely, Mr. D. W. Stevens, who has
been for some time official “Adviser to the Korean Council of State
and Counsellor to the Resident-General”—that without his generous and
painstaking assistance in varied ways the Second Part of the book
could never have appeared in its present form. It is hoped that this
general acknowledgment will serve to cover many cases where Mr. Stevens’
name is not especially mentioned in connection with the text. Grateful
acknowledgment is also made to Mr. Furuya, the private secretary of the
Resident-General, for his painstaking translation from the original
Japanese or Chinese official documents; to Mr. M. Zumoto, editor of
the _Seoul Press_, for varied information on many subjects; and to Dr.
George Heber Jones for facts and suggestions imparted in conversation
and embodied in writings of his. My obligations to the Resident-General
himself, for the perfectly untrammelled and unprejudiced opportunity,
with its complete freedom to ask all manner of questions, which his
invitation afforded, are, I trust, sufficiently emphasized in the title
of the book. Other debts to writers upon any part of the field are
acknowledged in their proper connections.
GEORGE TRUMBULL LADD.
HAYAMA, JAPAN, _September, 1907_.
CONTENTS
CONTENTS OF PART I
CHAPTER PAGE
I. THE INVITATION 1
II. FIRST GLIMPSES OF KOREA 15
III. LIFE IN SEOUL 37
IV. LIFE IN SEOUL (_Continued_) 65
V. THE VISIT TO PYENG-YANG 90
VI. CHEMULPO AND OTHER PLACES 112
VII. THE DEPARTURE 139
VIII. PERSONAL REMINISCENCES AND IMPRESSIONS 148
CONTENTS OF PART II
IX. THE PROBLEM: HISTORICAL 179
X. THE PROBLEM: HISTORICAL (_Continued_) 222
XI. THE COMPACT 252
XII. RULERS AND PEOPLE 280
XIII. RESOURCES AND FINANCE 300
XIV. EDUCATION AND THE PUBLIC JUSTICE 326
XV. FOREIGNERS AND FOREIGN RELATIONS 352
XVI. WRONGS: REAL AND FANCIED 367
XVII. MISSIONS AND MISSIONARIES 388
XVIII. JULY, 1907, AND AFTER 414
XIX. THE SOLUTION OF THE PROBLEM 444
ILLUSTRATIONS
PORTRAIT OF MARQUIS ITO _Frontispiece_
TO FACE PAGE
BIRD’S-EYE VIEW OF THE CAPITAL CITY 22
GOING TO THE LECTURE AT INDEPENDENCE HALL 52
WATER-GATE AT PYENG-YANG 100
WEST GATE OR “GATE OF GENEROUS RIGHTEOUSNESS” 132
PEONY POINT AT PYENG-YANG 184
THE TONG-KWAN TAI-KWOL PALACE 206
THE EX-EMPEROR AND PRESENT EMPEROR 284
THE HALL OF CONGRATULATIONS 306
STREET SCENE IN SEOUL 330
THE STONE-TURTLE MONUMENT 384
FUNERAL PROCESSION IN SEOUL 408
_PART I_
A NARRATIVE OF PERSONAL EXPERIENCES
CHAPTER I
THE INVITATION
It was in early August of 1906 that I left New Haven for a third visit
to Japan. Travelling by the way of the Great Lakes through Duluth and
St. Paul, after a stay of two weeks in Seattle, we took the Japanese
ship _Aki Maru_ for Yokohama, where we arrived just before the port was
closed for the night of September 20. Since this ship was making its
first trip after being released from transport service in conveying the
Japanese troops home from Manchuria, and was manned by officers who
had personal experiences of the war to narrate, the voyage was one of
uncommon interest. Captain Yagi had been in command of the transport ship
_Kinshu Maru_ when it was sunk by the Russians, off the northeastern
coast of Korea. He had then been carried to Vladivostok, and subsequently
to Russia, where he remained in prison until the end of the war. Among
the various narratives to which I listened with interest were the two
following; they are repeated here because they illustrate the code of
honor whose spirit so generally pervaded the army and navy of Japan
during their contest with their formidable enemy. It is in reliance on
the triumph of this code that those who know the nation best are hopeful
of its ability to overcome the difficulties which are being encountered
in the effort to establish a condition favorable to safety, peace, and
prosperity by a Japanese Protectorate over Korea.
At Vladivostok the American Consul pressed upon Captain Yagi a sum of
money sufficient to provide a more suitable supply of food during his
journey by rail to Russia. This kindly offer was respectfully declined
on the sentimental ground that, as an officer of Japan, he could not
honorably receive from a stranger a loan which it was altogether likely
he would never be able to repay. But when still further urged, although
he continued to decline the money, he begged only the Consul’s card,
“lest he might himself forget the name or die,” and so his Government
would be unable to acknowledge the kindness shown to one of its officers.
The card was given, sent to Tokyo, and—as the Captain supposed—the Consul
was “thanked officially.” The first officer, an Englishman, who had
been in the service of Japan on the _Aki Maru_, while it was used for
transporting troops to Manchuria and prisoners on its return, told this
equally significant story. His ship had brought to Japan as prisoner
the Russian officer second in command at the battle of Nan-san. Having
been wounded in the foot, the Russian was, after his capture, carried
for a long distance by Japanese soldiers, to whom, when they reached
the hospital tent, he offered a $20 gold-piece. But they all refused to
receive money from a wounded foe. “If it had been Russian soldiers,” said
this officer of his own countrymen, “they would not only have taken this
money but would have gone through my pockets besides.”
Before leaving home only two official invitations had been received,
namely, to lecture on Education before the teachers in the Tokyo branch
of the Imperial Educational Society; and to give a course in the Imperial
University of Kyoto, on a topic which it was afterward decided should
be the “Philosophy of Religion.” This university was to open in the
following autumn a Department of Philosophy (such a forward movement
having been delayed by the war with Russia). Almost immediately on our
arrival, a multitude of requests for courses of lectures and public
addresses came to the committee in charge of the arrangements, with
the result that the six months from October 1, 1906, to April 1, 1907,
were crowded full of interesting and enjoyable work. In the intervals
of work, however, there was opportunity left for much valuable social
intercourse and for meeting with men like Togo, Oyama, Noghi, and others
in military and business, as well as educational circles, whose names
and deeds are well known all over the civilized world. But it is not the
narrative of these six months which is before us at the present time,
although doubtless they had a somewhat important influence in securing
the opportunity and providing the preparation for the subsequent visit to
Korea.
The thought of seeing something of the “Hermit Kingdom” (a title, by
the way, which is no longer appropriate) had been in our minds before
leaving America, only as a somewhat remote possibility. Not long after
our arrival in Japan the hint was several times given by an intimate
friend, who is also in the confidence of Marquis Ito, that the latter
intended, on his return in mid-winter from Seoul, to invite us to be his
guests in his Korean residence. It was not, however, until the afternoon
of December 5 that the invitation was first received. This was at the
garden-party given by Marquis Nabeshima on his sixty-first birthday. It
should be explained that every Japanese is born under one of the twelve
signs—corresponding to our signs of the Zodiac. When five of these
periods have been completed the total of sixty years corresponds with the
end of six periods of ten years each—a reckoning which is, I believe,
of Chinese origin. The fortunate man, therefore, may be said to begin
life over again; and presents such as are ordinarily appropriate only to
childhood are entirely in order on such a festal occasion. While walking
in the beautiful garden, which is of Japanese style but much modified by
Italian ideals, the private secretary of Marquis Ito, Mr. Furuya, came
to us and announced that his chief, who had recently returned from Seoul
to Japan, was near and wished to see me. After an exchange of friendly
greetings almost immediately the Marquis said: “I am expecting to see you
in my own land, which is now Korea”; and when I jestingly asked, “But is
it safe to be in Korea?” (implying some fear of a Russian invasion under
his protectorate) he shook his fist playfully in the air and answered:
“But I will protect you.” To this he added, pointing to his sword: “You
see, I am half-military now.” The significance of the last remark will
be the better understood when it is remembered that from the days of his
young manhood to the present hour, Ito has always stood for the peaceful
policy and the cultivation of friendly relations between Japan and all
the rest of the world. For this reason he has never been the favorite
of the military party; and he is to-day opposed in his administration
of Korean affairs by those who would apply to them the mailed hand of
punishment and suppression rather than hold out the friendly but firm
hand of guidance and help.
Even after this interview the real purpose of the invitation to visit
Korea was not evident. A week later, however, it was disclosed by a
visit from Mr. Yamada of the _Japan Times_, who came from Marquis Ito to
present his request more fully and to arrange for a subsequent extended
conference upon the subject. I was then informed, in a general way, how
it was thought by the Resident-General I might be of help to him and to
Japan in solving the difficult problem of furthering for the Koreans
themselves the benefits which the existing relations of the two countries
made it desirable for both to secure. Complaints of various sorts were
constantly being made, not only against individual Japanese, but also
against the Japanese administration, as unjust and oppressive to the
Koreans, and as selfish and exclusive toward other foreigners than its
own countrymen. Especially had such complaints of late been propagated by
American missionaries, either directly by letters and newspaper articles,
or more indirectly by tales told to travellers who, since they were
only passing a few days in Korea, had neither desire nor opportunity to
investigate their accuracy. In this way, exaggerations and falsehoods
were spread abroad as freely as one-sided or half-truths. In the office
of Resident-General the Marquis greatly desired to be absolutely just and
fair, and to prevent the mistakes, so harmful both to Korea and to Japan,
which followed the Japanese occupation of Korea at the close of the
Chino-Japan war. But it was difficult, and in most cases impossible, for
him even to find out what the complaints were; they came to the public
ear in America and England before he was able to get any indication of
their existence even. And when his attention was called to them in this
roundabout fashion, further difficulties, almost insuperable, intervened
between him and the authors of these complaints; for in most cases it
turned out that the foreign plaintiffs had no first-hand information
regarding the truth of the Korean stories. They would not themselves take
the pains to investigate the complaints, much less would they go to the
trouble to bring the attention of the Resident-General to the matters
complained of in order that he might use his magisterial authority to
remedy them. In respect to these, and certain other difficulties, Marquis
Ito thought that I might assist his administration if I would spend some
time upon the ground as his guest.
The nature of this invitation put upon me the responsibility of answering
two questions which were by no means altogether easy of solution; and on
which it was, from their very nature, impossible to get much trustworthy
advice. The first of these concerned my own fitness for so delicate and
difficult but altogether unaccustomed work. The second raised the doubt
whether I could in this way be more useful to Japan and to humanity than
by carrying out the original plan of spending the spring months lecturing
in Kiushu. After consulting with the few friends to whom I could properly
mention the subject, and reflecting that the judgment of His Imperial
Majesty, with whom Marquis Ito would doubtless confer, as well as of
the Resident-General himself, might fairly be considered conclusive, I
accepted the invitation; but it was with mingled feelings of pleasure and
of somewhat painful hesitation as to how I should be able to succeed.
The illness of Marquis Ito which, though not serious, compelled him to
retire from the exciting life of the capital city to the seaside, and
then to the hills, prevented my meeting him before I left Tokyo for Kyoto
to fulfil my engagements in the latter city. But, by correspondence with
a friend, I was kept informed of the Marquis’ plans for his return to
Korea, and thus could govern my engagements so as to be in the vicinity
of some point on his route thither, at which the meeting with him might
take place.
The expected conference followed immediately after our return from one
of the most delightful of the many gratifying experiences which came to
us during our year in Japan. We had taken a trip to the village of Hiro
Mura, where formerly lived Hamaguchi Goryo, the benevolent patron of his
village, whose act of self-sacrifice in burning his rice straw in order
to guide the bewildered villagers to a place of safety when they were
being overwhelmed by a tidal wave in the darkness of midnight, has been
made the theme of one of Lafcadio Hearn’s interesting tales. Mr. Hearn,
it appears, had never visited the locality; and, indeed, we were assured
that we were the first foreigners who had ever been seen in the village
streets. A former pupil of mine is at the head of a flourishing school
patronized by the Hamaguchi family; and having accepted his invitation,
in the name of the entire region, to visit them and speak to the school
and to the teachers of the Prefecture, the cordial greeting, hospitable
entertainment, and the surpassingly beautiful scenery, afforded a rich
reward for the three or four days of time required. For, as to the
scenery, not the drive around the Bay of Naples or along the Bosphorus
excels in natural beauty the jinrikisha ride that surmounts the cliffs,
or clings to their sides, above the bay of Shimidzu (“Clear Water”);
while for a certain picturesqueness of human interest it surpasses them
both. On the way back to Wakayama—for Hiro Mura is more than twenty miles
from the nearest railway station—three men to each jinrikisha, running
with scarcely a pause and at a rate that would have gained credit for
any horse as a fairly good roadster, brought us to the well-situated
tea-house at Waka-no-ura. For centuries the most celebrated of Japanese
poets have sung the praises of the scenery of this region—the boats with
the women gathering seaweed at low tide, the fishermen in the offing, the
storks standing on one leg in the water or flying above the rushes of the
salt marsh. Here we were met for tiffin by the Governor of the Prefecture
and the mayor of the city, and immediately after escorted to the city
hall of Wakayama, where an audience of some eight hundred, officials and
teachers, had already assembled. While in the waiting-room of this hall,
a telegram from Mr. Yokoi was handed to me, announcing that Marquis Ito
had already left Oiso and would reach Kyoto that very evening and arrange
to see me the next day.
It was now necessary to change the plan of sight-seeing in the
interesting castle-town of Wakayama for an immediate return to Kyoto.
Thus we were taken directly from the Hall to the railway station and,
on reaching Osaka, hurried across the city in time to catch an evening
train; an hour later we found our boys waiting, with their jinrikishas,
at the station in Kyoto. From the hotel in Kyoto I sent word at once
to Marquis Ito of our arrival and placed myself at his command for the
long-deferred interview. The messenger brought back an invitation for
luncheon at one o’clock of the next day.
When we reached the “Kyoto Hotel,” at the time appointed we were ushered
into the room where Marquis Ito, his _aide-de-camp_, General Murata, his
attending physician, his secretary, and four guests besides ourselves,
were already gathered. After leaving the luncheon table, we had scarcely
entered the parlor when the Marquis’ secretary said: “The Marquis would
like to see you in his room.” I followed to the private parlor, from
which the two servants, who were laughing and chatting before the open
fire, were dismissed by a wave of the hand, and pointing me to a chair
and seating himself, the Marquis began immediately upon the matters for
conference about which the interview had been arranged.
His Excellency spoke very slowly but with great distinctness and
earnestness; this is, indeed, his habitual manner of speech whether using
English or his native language. The manner of speech is characteristic
of the mental habit, and the established principles of action. In
the very first place he wished it to be made clear that he had no
detailed directions, or even suggestions, to offer. I was to feel quite
independent as to my plans and movements in co-operating with him to
raise out of their present, and indeed historical, low condition the
unfortunate Koreans. In all matters affecting the home policy of his
government as Resident-General, he was now a Korean himself; he was
primarily interested in the welfare, educationally and economically, of
these thirteen or fourteen millions of wretched people who had been so
long and so badly misgoverned. In their wish to remain independent he
sympathized with them. The wish was natural and proper; indeed, one
would be compelled to think less highly of them, if they did not have
and show this wish. As to foreign relations, and as to those Koreans who
were plotting with foreigners against the Japanese, his attitude was of
necessity entirely different. He was against these selfish intrigues; he
was pledged to this attitude of opposition by loyalty to his own Emperor,
to his own country, and, indeed, to the best good fortune for Korea
itself. Japan was henceforth bound to protect herself and the Koreans
against the evil influence and domination of foreign nations who cared
only to exploit the country in their own selfish interests or to the
injury of the Japanese. When his own countrymen took part in such selfish
schemes, he was against them, too.
Again and again did the Resident-General affirm that the helping of
Korea was on his conscience and on his heart; that he cared nothing for
criticism or opposition, if only he could bring about this desirable
result of good to the Koreans themselves. He then went on to say that
diplomatic negotiations between Japan and both Russia and France were so
far advanced that a virtual _entente cordiale_ had already been reached.
Treaties, formally concluded, would soon, he hoped and believed, secure
definite terms for the continuance of peaceful relations. Japan had
already received from Russia proposals for such a permanent arrangement;
the reply of Japan was so near a _rapprochement_ to the proposals of
Russia as to encourage the judgment that actual agreement on the terms
of a treaty could not be far away. The situation, indeed, was now such
that Russia had invited Japan to make counter proposals. The present
Foreign Minister of Russia the Marquis regarded as one of his most
trusted friends; the Russian Minister was ready, in the name of the Czar,
to affirm his Government’s willingness to abandon the aggressive policy
toward Korea and Manchuria, in case Japan would, on her part, pledge
herself to be content with her present possessions. The _status quo_
was, then, to be the basis of the new treaties. Great Britain, as Japan’s
ally, was not only ready for this, but was approaching Russia with a
view to a settlement of the questions in controversy between the two
nations, in regard to Persia, Afghanistan, and elsewhere, where they had
common interests. France would, as a nation on good terms with both Great
Britain and Russia, and as herself the friend of peace, gladly agree. He
was, then, hopeful that in the near future a permanent basis of peace
for the whole Orient might be secured by concurrence of the four great
nations most immediately interested.
To these disclosures of his plans and hopes, so frankly and fully made as
to excite my surprise, Marquis Ito then added the wish that I should at
this time, or subsequently while on the ground, ask of him any questions
whatever, information on which might guide in forming a correct judgment
as to the situation there, or assist in the effort toward the improvement
educationally, industrially, or morally, of the Koreans themselves. In
reply I expressed my satisfaction at the confidences which His Excellency
had given me, and my hearty sympathy with his plans for the peaceful
development of Korea. Nothing, it seemed to me, could be more important
in the interests of humanity than to have the strife of foreign nations
for a selfish supremacy in the Far East come to a speedy end. But the
perfect freedom of inquiry and action allowed to me was in some sort an
embarrassment. It would have been easier to have had a definite work
assigned, and a definite method prescribed. However, I should do the best
that my inexperience in such matters made possible, in order to justify
his favorable judgment.
It was my intention at first to prepare for the work in Korea by much
reading of books. But the professional and social demands made upon
both time and strength, to the very last hour of our stay in Japan,
prevented the carrying out of this intention. When, later on, it became
possible to read what had previously been published, I discovered that
the deprivation was no hindrance, but perhaps a positive advantage, to
the end of success in my task. A story of recent experiences of Korean
intrigue which had already been reported to me in detail was of more
practical value than the reading of many learned treatises. The story
was as follows: Among the several representatives of American Christian
and benevolent enterprises who have recently visited that country,
for the size of his audiences and the warmth of his greeting, one had
been particularly distinguished. At his first public address, some
four thousand persons, men and boys (for the Korean women are never
seen at such gatherings) had attempted to crowd into “Independence
Hall.” Of these, however, nine-tenths came with the vague feeling that
it is somehow for the political interest of Koreans to seem friendly
to citizens of foreign Christian countries—especially of the United
States—in order to secure help for themselves in an appeal to interfere
with the Japanese administration. In this case the speaker was at first
supposed to have great political influence. But the audience, seeing
that the subjects of address were religious rather than political,
fell off greatly on the second occasion. Meanwhile, some of the Korean
officials, in order to win credit for themselves for procuring the
audience, had falsely reported that the Korean Emperor _wished_ to see
this distinguished representative from America. But when they learned
that application for the audience had been duly made, through the proper
Japanese official, they came around again and, with many salaams and
circuitous approaches, expressed the regrets of His Majesty that, being
indisposed, he was unable to grant the audience which had been applied
for. At the very time of this second falsehood, the proper official was
in the act of making out the permit to enter the palace. The audience
came off. And while the American guest was in the waiting-room, the
Minister of the Household, watching his chance to escape observation,
with his hand upon his heart, appealed to the distinguished American for
his nation’s sympathy against the oppression of the Japanese. During
the two months of my own experience with the ways of the Koreans, all
this, and much more of the same sort, was abundantly and frequently
illustrated. And, indeed, no small portion of the recent movement toward
Christianity is more a political than a religious affair. But of this I
shall speak in detail later on.
It was the understanding with Marquis Ito at the interview in Kyoto that
he should have me informed at Nagasaki, at some time between March 20th
and 24th, when he desired us to come to Seoul; and that arrangements
should then be made for meeting our Japanese escort at Shimonoseki. On
returning to the hotel parlor the Marquis apologized to Mrs. Ladd for
keeping her husband away so long, and remarked, playfully, that the
diplomatic part of the conference was not to be communicated even to her,
until its expectations had become matters of history.
Three days later we started for Nagasaki, where I was to spend somewhat
more than a week lecturing to the teachers of the Prefecture, and to the
pupils of the Higher Commercial School. As we crossed the straits to
Moji, the sun rose gloriously over the mountains and set the sea, the
shore, and the ships in the two harbors aglow with its vitalizing fire.
The police officer assigned to guard his country’s guests, pointed out to
us the battleship waiting to take the Resident-General to his difficult
and unappreciated work in Korea; and nearer the other side of the channel
we noted with pleasure the _Aki Maru_, on which six months before we had
crossed the Northern Pacific.
It had been in my plans, even before reaching Japan, to spend a month
or two in Kiushu, a part of the Empire which is in some respects
most interesting, and which I had never visited before. And, indeed,
in reliance on a telegram from Tokyo which read: “Fix your own
date, telegraph Zumoto” (the gentleman who was to accompany us from
Shimonoseki), “Seoul,” arrangements had already been completed for
lectures at Fukuoka, and had been begun for a short course also at
Kumamoto. But the very next day after these instructions had been
followed, a telegram came from Mr. Zumoto himself, who was already
waiting at Shimonoseki to accompany us to Seoul, inquiring when we
could start, and adding that “the Marquis hoped it would be at once.”
All engagements besides the one at Nagasaki were therefore promptly
cancelled. On the evening of March 24th, Mr. Akai, who had been our
kindly escort in behalf of the friends at Nagasaki, put us into the hands
of our escort to Korea, at the station in Moji.
Since the steamer for Fusan did not start until the following evening, we
had the daylight hours to renew our acquaintance with Shimonoseki. The
historical connections which this region has had with our distinguished
host made the time here all the more vividly interesting. At this place,
as an obscure young man, Ito had risked his life in the interests of
progress by way of peace; and here, too, as the Commissioner of his
Emperor, the now celebrated Marquis had concluded the treaty with China
through her Commissioner, Li Hung Chang. But what need be said about the
story of these enterprises belongs more properly with the biography of
the man. At about 8.30 o’clock in the evening of March 25th the harbor
launch, with the chief of the harbor police in charge, conveyed the party
to the ship _Iki Maru_. The evening was lovely; bright moonlight, mild
breeze, and moderate temperature. After tea, at about eleven, we “turned
in” to pass a comfortable night in a well-warmed and well-ventilated
cabin.
I have dwelt with what might otherwise seem unnecessary detail upon my
invitation to Korea, because it throws needed light upon the nature and
opportunity of this visit, as well as upon the character of the man
who gave the invitation, and of the administration of which he is the
guiding mind and the inspiring spirit. I was to be entirely independent,
absolutely free from all orders or even suggestions, to form an opinion
as to the sincerity and wisdom of the present Japanese administration,
as to the character and needs of the Korean public, and as to the Korean
Court. The fullest confidential information on all points was to be
freely put at my disposal; but the purpose of the visit was to be in full
accord with that of the Residency-General—namely, to help the Koreans,
and to convince all reasonable foreigners of the intention to deal justly
with them. Suggestions as to any possible improvements were earnestly
requested. For I hesitate to say that His Excellency, with a sincerity
which could not be doubted, asked that I should advise him whenever
I thought best. So far as this understanding properly extends, the
unmerited title of “Unofficial Adviser to the Resident-General,” bestowed
by some of the foreign and native papers, was not wholly misplaced. But
the term is more creditable to the sincerity of Marquis Ito than to my
own fitness for any such title. “Adviser,” in any strictly official or
political meaning of the term, is a word altogether inappropriate to
describe our relations at any time.