LIFE IN SEOUL (_CONTINUED_)
The winter and spring of 1907 in Korea were, from the point of view of
one interested in this kind of politics, a very lively period, even
for a country traditionally accustomed to similar performances. Four
attempts at assassination of the Ministry—one of which was successful;
daily disclosures of intrigue, plot and counter-plot; revolts against
the country magistrates which took the form of refusal to pay taxes, of
attacks upon the police, and of highway robbery; plans for plundering
the resources of the nation under plausible pretence of schemes for
“promoting” the nation’s resources; foolish excitements selfishly
fostered by writers for the press who had their own interests to secure;
and quite as foolish, but less selfish, endeavors for increase of
public welfare, by those benevolently inclined; secret arrangements for
the despatch of the unfortunate delegation to the Hague, accompanied
by stealings from the impoverished royal treasury to the extent of
several hundred thousand _yen_; and, finally, a change, not only in the
_personnel_ of the Ministry but in its very constitution and mode of
procedure, which amounted to a bloodless revolution—these and other like
events were crowded into this one half-year. Meantime, especially after
the return of the Resident-General, the foundations of a new industrial
and educational development were being laid; and the arrangements for a
systematic administration of law and justice were quietly made ready. An
extensive religious revival was in progress—with phenomena corresponding
to those familiar to students of such subjects, when the moral power of a
higher religion first makes itself felt among a people who are ignorant
devil- and spirit-worshippers and are habitually negligent or corrupt in
respect of the manliest virtues. All this ferment was both caused, and
pervaded in its characteristics, by the Korean national hatred of the
race that was destined to subdue and, as we hope, redeem them.
During Marquis Ito’s absence in Japan those opposed to the workings
of the recently established Japanese Protectorate over Korea were
indeed busily engaged. Their various enterprises took the several forms
mentioned above. As to assassination, one unsuccessful attempt had
been made some time before the Marquis’ return to Korea. A beautiful
box of nickel was sent as a present to acting Prime Minister Pak. No
one of the Korean Court, being wise in their generation, ventured to
examine its contents or even to raise the lid of the box. Subsequently
the Resident-General examined it himself. It proved to be an ingenious
contrivance by which the turning of the key and lifting the lid would
pull the trigger of a pistol and explode the powder with which the
box was filled. Both box and pistol were of American manufacture. The
intention of the pretended present, which it was doubtless hoped would
be the more eagerly accepted and naïvely dealt with, since it ostensibly
came from so “friendly” a country, needs no investigation. The precise
source of the murderous gift will perhaps never be accurately known.
The day but one before our arrival in Seoul another unsuccessful attempt
at political murder was made—this time in daylight and upon one of the
principal thoroughfares. The object of attack was Mr. Kwon, the Minister
of War, who was riding in a jinrikisha surrounded by his official guard.
The following account is taken from the _Seoul Press_ of Friday, March
29th:
The Korean Minister of War had a narrow escape on Monday from
a daring attempt on his life. The would-be assassins—there
were two or probably more—succeeded in getting away from the
Japanese policeman in the Korean service, who seems to have had
a most desperate struggle with them and some people who came to
their assistance (that is, the assistance of the assassins).
He, however, succeeded in taking the pistol, which had been
fired twice upon the Minister, happily without any effect.
One of the accomplices was shortly after arrested by another
Japanese policeman in the Korean service in the vicinity of
the Minister’s residence. According to a statement made by
this prisoner, he belongs to a band of eighteen men from South
Korea, who are alleged to have recently entered Seoul for the
purpose of assassinating the Cabinet Ministers. These men are
further alleged to be the remnants of the so-called “volunteer”
insurgents of last year. There seems, however, reason to
suspect the truth of this statement; it is not unlikely that
motives of a political character have been adduced to cover a
crime prompted by personal enmity or rivalry. Such things have
constantly occurred in this country in recent years. Rumors are
rife as to the true origination of the dastardly attempt on
Mr. Kwon’s life, but we do not consider it necessary to take
any notice of them; they are mostly of such an extraordinary
character that they will certainly be dismissed as utterly
inconceivable by anybody not accustomed to the peculiar ways of
politics in Seoul.
One remark should be added to complete this public account; and one other
to enable the observer to read between the lines. There were Korean
body-guards and policemen and citizens at hand; but only one Japanese
policeman made any attempt to save the Minister’s life or to arrest the
assassins. The rumors rife, so inconceivable to “anybody not accustomed”
to the “politics” of Seoul, suggested, as usual, that it would be
well not to examine too closely into the plot, lest some one might be
uncovered who stood “higher up” in the court circles of Korea.
The third attempt at assassination was limited to the discovery and
immediate flight of the intruder as he was trying to climb the wall of
the enclosure of acting Prime Minister Pak. But the fourth attempt did
not terminate so harmlessly. In brief, the history of this political
murder was as follows (its date was April 21st):
On Sunday evening, Mr. Pak Yong-hwa, Director of the Audit
Bureau of the Imperial Household Department, was assassinated
at his house. On that evening Mr. Pak had nearly a dozen
visitors, and while he was conversing with them shortly after
ten o’clock, the card of another visitor, not known to him,
was brought in. Mr. Pak saw the man in a separate room, and
no sooner had he begun to talk with him than another man
rushed into the room through a window and stabbed Mr. Pak in
the right breast, inflicting a wound four inches deep. Seeing
their victim drop mortally wounded, the assassins hurriedly
left, discharging a few shots from their revolvers to prevent
pursuit. They are said to have been attired in foreign dress,
and from their accent it is inferred that they are most
probably from Keng-Sang-do.
The unfortunate Minister died from his wound while in the palanquin on
the way to the Japanese hospital. Marquis Ito, supposing from the news
received by telephone that acting Prime Minister Pak was the victim,
started at once for the hospital; but learning, before reaching there,
of the real name of the victim, and of his death, he returned to the
Residency. The next day H. M. the Emperor caused a chamberlain to pay
a visit of condolence to Mr. Pak’s residence; but the city of Seoul
and the country of Korea went about its business of intrigue or its
work of tilling the fields, as though nothing unusual had happened. The
distinction between such events here and in Russia should be borne in
mind by one trying to estimate their significance. In Korea there is
no immediate tangible interest, affecting life, liberty, or property,
for the individual, at stake, to justify violence. Where the real
reasons are not thoroughly selfish and corrupt—as indeed in most cases
they are—a misguided patriotism, with a large mixture of hypocritical
sentimentality, is the motive for the political murders of Korea. The
real patriots, if their feeling is intense enough and their courage
sufficient, commit suicide; and those of less degree of intensity refuse
to accept office under a foreign protectorate!
In general, it had hitherto been only the court officials themselves
who much cared as to what persons were selected by the Emperor for the
different high offices in Seoul itself. They, too, had been chiefly
interested in the more serious question as to who it is of these
officials that gets himself assassinated. The peasants and pedlers, who
are the travelling merchants in the country districts, care only about
the local magistrates and about the bearable amount of their “squeezes.”
But under the administration of Marquis Ito assassination of officers
whose character and official acts sustain such important relations to
the vital interests of both Japan and Korea, cannot now be allowed its
traditional impunity. Investigation into the authors and promoters of
this plot, therefore, quietly began and was carried as far upward as
seemed desirable or necessary. According to the _Korean Daily News_, the
three Koreans—La In-yung, Aw Ki-ho, and Kim In-sik—who on April 1st “went
to the Supreme Court in Seoul and gave themselves up, stating that they
were the ones who had tried to kill the Minister of War,” “seem to have
been actuated by no selfish impulses.” The same paper calls attention to
the claim that the plan was to kill all the five Cabinet Ministers “who
signed the last treaty with Japan”; and also to the fact that these same
men had been to Japan to memorialize the Japanese Emperor with reference
to the condition of Korea under the protectorate of the empire whose
head was His Majesty himself. This is as far as the paper cared to go at
this time in apologizing for the attempt at wholesale murder; but there
is no doubt that the attempt itself was not at all displeasing to the
court officials of the other party than the one in power or to the people
generally.
The truer story is as follows: The searchings of the police after
those who attempted the assassination of the Minister of War resulted
in picking up a number of them from various quarters. These rascals
were cross-questioned and one of them confessed and implicated as
back of the plot financially, no less important a personage than the
ex-Minister of the Imperial Household, Yi Yong-tai. This is the man who
was once prevented by foreign influence, on account of his thoroughly
evil reputation, from going to Washington as Minister from Korea. He is
known as a past-master in all kinds of craft and corruption, thoroughly
untrustworthy; although he had formerly been elevated by the Emperor to
the position of Minister of the Interior. Now, it so happened that at
the very time of the examination of the assassins, this same gentleman
was in an adjoining room where he and those with him could easily hear
everything said in answer to the cross-questioning. It is no wonder,
then, that Mr. Yi Yong-tai confessed that he himself was indeed one of
the band of patriots who had attempted the gallant measure of paying
hired assassins to make way with their political rivals—as I have already
said, a recognized, legitimate political measure throughout Korean
history.
The progress and result of the investigations into this plot of
assassination are so significant that this summary account from the
_Seoul Press_ is well worthy of reflective consideration:
The authors of the late unsuccessful attempt on the life of
Mr. Kwon, the War Minister, have at last been established. The
plot is of much greater magnitude than originally supposed,
and more than thirty men are now under arrest. The leaders of
the conspiracy are two South Chul-la-do men, La In-yung and
Aw Ki-ho by name. It is stated that they are men of learning
and command some respect among their neighbors. Some days ago
they surrendered themselves to the Supreme Court and confessed
all that had happened. From their own statements it appears
that the events which led them to the dastardly attempt are
rather historical than temporary. Since the days of the
Japan-China war they have been imbued with the idea that the
peace of Korea could be preserved only through the separate
independence of Japan, China, and Korea. Guided by this idea
they did all things in their power to prevent Russia from
gaining ascendancy in this country after that war; and on the
outbreak of the Russo-Japanese war they prayed, so they say,
for the victory of Japan, as her Imperial declaration of war
made reference to the maintenance of the territorial integrity
of the peninsula. In June, 1905, the two men, with one Yi, a
school teacher, went over to Tokyo and made representations to
the Household Department and Cabinet Ministers, petitioning
for Korea’s independence. On learning from the Japanese press
that the conclusion of a treaty was on the _tapis_ between
Japan and Korea, which would transfer the conduct of Korean
foreign affairs into the hands of the former, they immediately
wired to Mr. Pak, the Premier, requesting him not to sign the
Convention, even if his life were threatened. The Convention,
however, soon became an accomplished fact in November, 1905,
and the three left Tokyo for home in the next month. But
they soon found it impossible to enjoy tranquillity at home.
Japan began steadily to perform that which the Convention of
November, 1905, provided for, and they again crossed to Japan,
in April, 1906. They vainly attempted to persuade some Japanese
politicians to start a movement for the realization of their
cherished ideal. Discouraged by another failure, they once
more returned to Seoul, and on the initiative of La In-yung,
they came to the terrible decision that the Premier and four
Ministers of State, who were responsible for the conclusion of
the Convention, should be assassinated in order to admit of
the present Government being replaced by a new administration,
composed of men of greater ability and capable of forcing
Japan to restore to Korea the conduct of her own affairs. They
were thus awaiting the advent of a good opportunity.
On the other hand, a survivor of the Chi Ik-hyun rebellion,
named Pak Tai-ha, with Kim Tong-pil, arrested on Tuesday,
and a few others discontented with the present _régime_,
were conspiring here to raise another rebellion; and La and
Aw, happening to come in contact with these men, a special
friendship was soon contracted between them. Pak and his
associates were prevailed upon by La and Aw to abandon their
own plan and join the plot against the Government in power.
Here stepped in another person, by name Kim In-sik, hailing
from North Chul-la-do. Having many acquaintances among the
officials of the Government, especially among those now
out of power, Kim was asked to raise a fund necessary for
the achievement of their common cause; and he succeeded in
drawing a sufficient sum from the discontents. Yi Yong-tai,
ex-Minister of the Imperial Household, now under arrest, headed
the subscription list by contributing 1,700 _yen_, and this
was followed by 1,200 _yen_ by Min Hyung-sik, Vice-Minister
of Education, who was arrested on Thursday night, through
the medium of Chi Ik-chin, Chief of the Accounts Section of
the Imperial Guards Bureau in the Household Department, who,
in turn, was also arrested on Thursday night. A few minor
contributions were made by ex-officials, making a total of
3,400 _yen_.
The date originally fixed for the assassination of the
five Ministers was the 1st of the first moon, when all
the high dignitaries proceed to the Palace to offer their
congratulations to the Emperor. They hired a number of men in
Chul-la-do and Kyöng-sang-do for the purpose; but the plan
miscarried owing to the belated arrival of these men. The 25th
of May was then chosen. Some fifty men came up to town in
time from the above two provinces, and five bands, each under
the command of a leader, were posted along the roads leading
to the Palace from the respective residences of the Premier,
Ministers of the Interior, War, Education and Justice, and Mr.
Yi Kun-tak. The company commanded by Aw Ki-ho, which was to do
away with Mr. Pak, failed through the hesitation of the hired
men; but Yi Hong-tai’s company, charged with the killing of
the War Minister, had courage enough to make an attempt. Their
efforts, however, proved abortive, and led to the detection of
the plot.
An analysis of this group of Korean officials and commoners, bent on
wholesale political murder of their own countrymen in office, because the
latter were avowedly committed to a reform of the economical and judicial
condition of Korea, without distinction as to the ill success, or even,
in certain particular cases, the unfaithfulness of these “reformers”
shows it to have been composed of three classes of persons. There were,
first, the high-class officials who, with one exception, were themselves
at the time among the party of the “outs”; and who undoubtedly found
in this fact the chief crime of the Japanese administration against
themselves. There were, second, the misguided patriots who, beginning
with an honorable but vain unwillingness to admit the incapacity of
their country to manage its own affairs, had sunken to the condition of
prejudice and hatred which made them plan to murder their own cabinet
ministers, because the latter had, however reluctantly, admitted this
incapacity and acted accordingly. And there was, third, that basest of
all criminals, the cold-blooded, unprincipled, hired assassin.
The administration of justice in an even-handed manner is peculiarly
difficult in Korea; and, indeed, until recently no serious attempt at
such a thing has ever been made. In the case of this complicated plot
for assassinating the entire Korean Cabinet, it should be borne in mind
that several of its chief promoters were very highly connected; they
were, indeed, connected well up towards His Imperial Majesty on his
throne. Considering this fact, the issue when reached showed a marked
improvement already established in judicial affairs. It was indeed
rumored—and perhaps correctly—that Mr. Min Hyung-sik, the Vice-Minister
of Education, underwent preliminary examination, in the old-fashioned
Korean style, by being cruelly beaten. And the anti-Japanese press tried
to make it count against Marquis Ito’s measures for judicial reform that
he had not prevented the traditional Korean mode of torturing suspects!
But this way of examining criminals was still legal in Korea. It was
also said that Mr. Yi Yon-yung, chief of the Supreme Court, sent in his
resignation, on the ground that, as his younger brother was one of the
five ministers who were doomed to death by the assassins, it would not be
fair for him to try the case.
At the time of our leaving Seoul the trial of these conspirators was
not finished. But on Wednesday, July 3d, at 4 P. M., the Supreme
Court returned judgment upon twenty-nine persons who had been tried
and convicted of connection with the plot to assassinate those Korean
officials who took part in the Japanese-Korean Convention of November,
1905. Three of the hired murderers who, besides this crime, were found to
have been previously guilty of armed robbery, were sentenced to death.
The others received sentences of exile (a penalty feared more than death
by many Korean officials), for periods of from five to ten years. Among
those to whom the longest sentence of exile was measured out, were the
notable names of Yi Yong-tai, ex-Minister of the Imperial Household;
Soh Chang-sik, ex-Minister Resident, and my auditor at the lectures on
education, Min Hyung-sik, Vice-Minister of Education.
Even while the examination of this group of assassins was going on, and
after the change in the Ministry had been effected, another plot against
the lives of the same men was discovered. This conspiracy was, however,
less important as respects the rank of the persons involved and less
extensive in the number of those participating. Most of the ten Koreans
thought to be concerned in it belonged to the Yang-ban class, or the
“gentry,” and all were followers of Confucianism. The opinion prevailed
that the motive of these conspirators was scarcely to any degree
patriotic; but that their principal object was to collect money from the
disappointed political groups of the capital. At all events, seven of
the criminals were arrested, the plot broken up thoroughly, and another
lesson given to Korean officialdom that assassination is no longer to be
so sure a path to official promotion and Imperial influence as it has too
often been in the past history of the country.
An amusing but significant incident illustrative of Korean official
procedure came under my own observation. Prince Tokugawa, who had been
staying somewhat more than a week at Miss Sontag’s, before leaving
Korea, gave an “at home” to about one hundred and fifty invited guests.
Soon after the company had assembled, and while the ladies were in the
drawing-room and the gentlemen in the large outer, enclosed verandah,
suddenly the electric lights went out and the company were left in
total darkness. The gentleman with whom I was conversing at the moment
and I looked through the glass doors of the verandah and observed that
the electric lights outside were still burning. At this discovery my
companion, who had had some experience in the ways of Seoul diplomacy,
became somewhat disturbed, and remarked: “Such things sometimes happen
by previous arrangement.” Almost immediately after the sudden darkness
came on, a servant emerged from the dining-hall with a lighted taper, and
crossing to the drawing-room proceeded to light the numerous candelabra.
At the heels of the servant followed Prince Eui Wha, pale with fright,
on his way from the verandah to the drawing-room, where he slipped
behind a barricade of ladies and planted himself against the wall. It
should be remembered in explanation of so singular behavior that this
Prince, although he is the Emperor’s son by a concubine, is hated by
no fewer than three different parties; these are the Min family, who
favor the succession of the son of the Queen; the party of Lady Om, who
would gladly see her young son come to the throne; and the violently
anti-Japanese crowd who believe that Prince Eui Wha is too much under
Japanese influences. It had been rumored previously that a letter had
threatened him with assassination. However this may be, the present was
not the expected occasion; for examination showed that the burning-out of
a fuse was the real cause of the sudden darkness: and a servant repaired
the connection so that, just as a workman hastily summoned from the
electric plant, entered the front door, the lights as suddenly came on
again.
The plots for assassination undoubtedly contributed to the causes which
had already for some time been at work to make necessary a change in the
Ministry. In spite of the enmity which the existing Cabinet had excited
on account of its unwilling part in the Convention of November, 1905,
it had held together for a remarkably long period of time. Not all its
members, however, were equally sincere or efficient in carrying out
the reforms to which they had pledged themselves; at least one of its
members had been accused of a notable attempt at the old-time manner of
corrupt administration of office. The Il Chin-hoi people, or members
of a numerous so-called “Independence Society,” had been “heckling the
Cabinet Ministers” by accusing them of venality and incapacity. In a
memorial forwarded to the Government by its committee, the beginning
read: “We herewith write you and enumerate your faults”; the memorial
ended with the amusingly frank declaration: “The only thing for you
Cabinet Ministers to do is to resign your posts and retire into private
life. Your armed body-guards are entirely useless. If you do your
duties assiduously and honestly, every one will love you; but if you
pursue idle and vicious courses, every man’s hand will be against you.”
Moreover, the acting Prime Minister Pak, although of good intentions,
had not developed the ability to lead and control his colleagues, and he
was probably acting wisely when he insisted on having his resignation
accepted. The resignation of their chief involved the resignations of
all and the formation of a new Ministry—although not necessarily of a
Ministry composed wholly of new members.
On returning to “Maison Sontag” about ten o’clock (Wednesday, May 22d)
from dining out we found our hostess rather worn in body and mentally
disturbed; she had herself just reached home after some seven hours of
continuous service in the Palace. Mademoiselle also appeared anxious
about the comfort and health of the Marquis Ito, who had himself been
there during a similar long period, and who had eaten and drunk nothing
except a sandwich and a glass of claret sent in by her to His Excellency.
The resignation of Premier Pak had been tendered on the Monday previous.
The next morning but one, the _Seoul Press_, published the following
announcement:
Marquis Ito’s audience with the Emperor of Korea on Wednesday
was a protracted one, it being nearly ten o’clock in the
evening before His Excellency left the palace. During the
five hours that he was with His Majesty, the old cabinet was
dismissed and a new one called into existence. The new Ministry
thus formed is composed as follows:
Prime Minister, Yi Wan-yong.
Minister of Justice, Yi Ha-yong.
Minister of Finance, Min Yong-ki.
Minister of the Interior, In Sun-jun.
Minister of War, Yi Pyong-mu.
Minister of Education, Yi Chai-kon.
As the same paper subsequently remarked, this change of government, which
had taken place with a quite unequalled promptitude and quiet, followed
upon a conversation in which the “Resident-General spoke to the Emperor
on the general situation in a remarkably frank and outspoken manner.”
The substance of this conversation between Marquis Ito and the Korean
Emperor in this memorable interview was probably somewhat as follows: His
Majesty was reminded of the Marquis’ regret that a change of Ministry had
become necessary; for under existing circumstances it was desirable to
avoid as much as possible the friction likely to accompany such a change.
But Minister Pak insisted on resigning and the others, of course, must
follow his example. Now the history of the country showed, as the Emperor
well knew, that changes in the Cabinet were a signal for all manner of
confusion in the Government, caused by the intrigue of parties contending
for the control. Promptness of action would alone prevent this. His
Excellency wished to remain in the palace until the new Ministry was
constituted. Under existing circumstances it was most desirable that
the new Prime Minister should be a man who could be trusted; and that,
in order to secure internal harmony and freedom from intrigue within
the Cabinet itself, he should have a choice in the selection of his
colleagues. He should also have a policy, should explain it to the
others, and thus secure their intelligent and hearty co-operation and
support. In His Excellency’s opinion, Mr. Yi Wan-yong, the then acting
Minister of Education, was the man, of all others, most suitable for the
position of Premier. This advice—accompanied, as it doubtless was, by
words of plain but friendly warning as to the consequences of continuing
the old-time policy of intrigue, deceit, and submission to the counsels
of base-born and unscrupulous fellows, who were always planning to
deceive and rob the Emperor in order to profit themselves—was finally
followed.
The Ministry of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry, which for practical
importance stood next to that of the Prime Minister, and which had been
rather unworthily filled by its previous occupant, was for the time
being combined with the Prime Minister’s. Soon after, the Minister of
Justice and the Minister of Finance of the new Cabinet insisted upon
resigning, and Mr. Cho Chung-yung and Mr. Ko Yong-hui were appointed to
the vacant positions. At the same time the vacant portfolio which had
been temporarily left in the hands of the Prime Minister was given to Mr.
Song Pyong-chun. With these changes and this additional appointment a
new Cabinet was arranged in the briefest possible time, without popular
excitement, and without opportunity for corrupt intrigue.
An analysis of the _personnel_ of the new Ministry shows that it was
composed of comparatively young men and of men who had, on the whole,
previously sustained a fair reputation. It also was much more obviously
a reform Cabinet; its material was both more mouldable and more
homogeneous. The Home Minister had been the President of “Song-kyun
College” (a Confucian institution); the War Minister, who was speedily
made a Major-General, had received a thorough military education in Japan
and had been director of the Korean Military Academy. The new Minister of
Education had at one time been Vice-Minister in the same department.
Almost immediately the new Cabinet, in accordance with the significant
decision to hold a Council every Tuesday at the official residence of
the Resident-General, met to shape a more definite public policy. A full
report of the speech made to them on this occasion by Marquis Ito, and of
the response made by Premier Yi, was published for Korea, Japan, and all
the world to read. In this address the Marquis claimed that he had now,
since his arrival one year ago, acted in perfect good faith, with the
immovable intention to do all in his power to cement friendship between
Japan and Korea, and to develop the latter’s resources. The most urgent
need for Korea at present was a reformed administration. Reviewing the
history of the past thirty years in the Far East, with which his own
experiences had made him particularly familiar, he recalled before them
his persistent advocacy of peaceful measures as opposed to those of a
punitive war. But it was for Korea herself to say whether such measures
should prevail as would insure her independence in home affairs and
peaceful self-development, or not. If the present Cabinet did not agree
with him, let them frankly and bravely say, No! If they concurred in
his opinion, let them free themselves of selfish motives and unite in
bringing about the common good. To this address of Marquis Ito, Mr. Yi,
the Premier, replied in behalf of his colleagues. After thanking the
Resident-General for his advice, he promised that the new Ministry would
unite under his guidance, and “despite all obstacles and in the face of
any dangers that might lie in the way, would endeavor to attain their
object—the best good of their country.”
Other measures followed rapidly, all of which tended to constitute
a Cabinet which should be a really effective administrative body,
relatively free from court intrigue and from the fear of internal
treachery. These measures, taken together, secured a new official system,
the beginnings of real government for the first time in the history of
Korea, as the following quotation will show:
According to the new system the present Council of State is
to be called hereafter the Cabinet, and the President of the
Council of State the Prime Minister. The respective Ministers
of State shall give their advice to the Emperor, and be
responsible for the management of important matters of State.
All laws, imperial edicts, the budget, the final account, any
and all expenditure that is not provided for in the budget, the
appointment, dismissal and promotion of Government officials
and officers, amnesty and pardon, and other affairs of State,
shall require the deliberation and consent of all the Ministers
of State as well as the counter-signature of them all. In
short, the new system aims at the enlargement of the power of
the Government in order to enable it to stand independent of
outward influence.
How complete a bloodless revolution was accomplished in this quiet and
almost unnoticed way will be made more apparent later on when it can be
viewed in its larger historical and political settings. That His Majesty
the Korean Emperor did not like the change, needs scarcely to be said.
The enlargement of the power of the Government meant the diminishing of
the Imperial power to dispose of the offices, the possessions, not only
of the Crown but also of individuals and of the nation, and the lives of
the subjects, without regard to law, order, justice, or the semblance of
equity. There is equally little need to say that the Yang-bans and the
corrupt courtiers and local magistrates, as well as the court-eunuchs and
sorceresses, were in the opposition. But only by such changes is to be
constituted the true “Passing of Korea,” in a manner to commend itself
to every genuine patriot and to all foreigners who honestly care for the
good of the Koreans and for the welfare of the Far East.
The Emperor at first was reported to have attacks of being “indisposed,”
which prevented his seeing the Ministers when they came for consultation,
or for the imperial sanction to their acts under the new _régime_. But,
on the whole, his health gradually so improved that he was able to accept
the situation with more apparent acquiescence, if not inner complacency.
And the fright which soon arose over the serious consequences that were
to follow his alleged Commission of Koreans and their “foreign friend”
to enter formal protest against Japan at The Hague Peace Conference, at
least for the time being made the humiliations suffered from his own
subjects at home the easier to be borne.
According to unfailing Korean custom, it was to be expected that
the ex-Ministers would become at once opponents of their successors
in office and powerful factors in the intrigues designed to destroy
the influence of the latter with the Emperor. The success of the new
Ministry, especially in the matter of those reforms which made Marquis
Ito’s administration so obnoxious to the ruling classes, was therefore in
peril from the Ministry that had resigned. But influence of a private and
suspicious character with His Majesty had become, under the new _régime_,
less important and less likely to be profitable; and the ex-Ministers
were not only to be rendered innocuous, even if any of them might at any
time be disposed to do harm, but were also themselves to be committed by
motives of personal interest to a more responsible, relatively reformed
mode of administering national affairs. The new Korean Government
decided to “create” the office of “Councillor in the Privy Council”; the
ex-Ministers were themselves promptly appointed to this office. They
were given comfortable salaries, and three of them—including the one who
had been publicly reported as having put on a coat-of-mail and secreted
himself in his own house, through fear of assassination, at the time of
his resignation—were sent on a tour of inspection to Japan. Here they
were received in audience by His Imperial Majesty the Emperor of Japan,
and so well treated that they might reasonably be expected to return to
their own country with a spirit of hearty co-operation in measures for
reforming the condition of their own country after the Japanese model.
Among the other events of the spring months of 1907 was one which, while
in itself considered, was relatively unimportant, was destined to become
of no small political influence upon the Japanese policy in Korea and
upon the relation of the Emperor and the court circle to that policy.
This was the sudden departure, after selling his effects at auction, of
Mr. Homer B. Hulbert. It does not belong to the story we have to tell, to
speak of the previous history of this gentleman in Korea, or of his views
on historical subjects when involving the character of the Japanese,
except so far as the statement of the facts and truths of history makes
such reference—mostly indirect—indispensable. But on this particular
occasion what transpired of Mr. Hulbert’s transactions with the Emperor
is so intimately connected with the political events of the period that
some special mention of them cannot properly be omitted.
Immediately on my return from Chemulpo, Wednesday, May 8th, I found
the excitement of the day was over the following questions: “What was
Mr. Hulbert’s motive for leaving Seoul so suddenly? Where is he going?
and What is his business?” Now the _Korean Daily News_, the violently
anti-Japanese paper which was currently believed to receive the support
of Mr. Hulbert, in the forms of friendship with its editor, writing
some of its editorials, and interest in its receiving subsidies, had
just published as a despatch from Paris (dated May 3d) the following
illuminating statements: “Korea will also participate in The Hague Peace
Conference”; but then again: “It is reported that Japan will represent
Korea at the Conference.” The conjecture, therefore, was very promptly
made by those in the diplomatic service in Seoul that the Emperor had
again given another large sum of money to the same hands, with the same
hope, as formerly, of procuring foreign assistance or even intervention.
This was, however, hard to credit even by those most suspicious; for,
from the Japanese point of view, such a transaction would have been on
the recipient’s part very like “obtaining money under false pretences,”
and on the giver’s part, a breach of the compact with Japan which might
seriously impair, or even endanger, the imperial interests. That such a
commission was a breach of treaty-obligations will be made perfectly
clear when we come to narrate the true history of the compact made in
November, 1905.
Inquiry resulted only in finding that Mr. Hulbert’s real plans in going,
and even his reasons for going at all, had not been confided to any of
his most intimate friends. His Korean associates, outside of the very few
higher officials that might be in the secret, held the absurd opinion
that he had been bought off from his devotion to them by the Marquis
Ito, to whose official residence he had resorted for a conference and
an agreement as to terms. To the other foreigners he had assigned the
condition of his family affairs as the reason for his removal. To one of
his more intimate friends among the missionaries he had claimed that,
having heard of a wealthy American who might be induced to give a large
sum of money to found an educational institution in Korea, he was going
to try to secure the gift. The only points of agreement were that the
journey was to be made over the Siberian Railway, and that there was
to be a considerable stop in St. Petersburg. In a quite unexpected but
entirely authentic way it became known to me within a few hours that Mr.
Hulbert had indeed gone from Seoul with a large gift of money from His
Majesty and with an important commission to execute. Although the precise
amount of the imperial gift continued for some time to be variously
estimated and reported, and although its precise uses may never be
inquired into—not to say made public; that a Commission appeared at The
Hague, and its fate, are now matters of the world’s political history. As
such, it will be referred to elsewhere.[3]
It would be a great mistake, however, to suppose that Seoul had no
other charms for us as visitors than the opportunity for delivering
lectures and for witnessing, from outside and inside points of view,
the human puppets which suppose themselves to be defeating the plans
of that Supreme Ethical Spirit who shapes the destiny of nations, in
partnership with those who partake of the spirit with which He inspires
the “men of good-will.” The Court intrigues, and even the assassination
of the Ministry, had little disturbing effect upon foreign business or
foreign social life in the capital of Korea. With the former it made no
difference of practical importance beyond the temporary check, perhaps,
to some promoting scheme which depended upon the personality of the Court
favorites for its Imperial support. There was no particular reason why
society should heed such familiar occurrences. The weather was fine;
the luxuriant bloom of the Korean spring and the vivid and changeful
coloring of the mountains surrounding Seoul, invited to out-of-doors
entertainments; and no foreigner’s life was then in any danger. For, as
to the last feature favoring open-air sociability, the foreign visitor
or resident need have little fear within the city walls, so long as the
mob is not aroused and in control. Aside from one or two articles in the
_Seoul Press_, and the grave rebukes of the Resident-General, I neither
heard, nor heard of, any voice raised against the immorality and crime of
political intrigue and political assassination. There was at the time no
Savonarola or Martin Luther in Korea. But, then, in what part of America,
or country of Europe, is such a prophet now to be found? In Korea, as
elsewhere, politics and morals seemed only remotely related, even in the
minds of the teachers of religion.
The foreign society of Seoul, including, of course, the Japanese,
is small, but homogeneous and agreeable. It is, indeed, composed of
several nationalities and of varied occupations—from that of the shrewd
and hardened diplomat to the unsuspecting but devout missionary. But
whatever differences of views and habits, or more important oppositions,
lie hidden beneath, when the gathering is social, there is a cordial
interchange of courtesies and an appearance of good-will. There can be
no doubt that much of this socially-uniting influence has its source
in the will of the Japanese Resident-General; and just as little doubt
that the Japanese Imperial treasury is somewhat heavily drawn upon for
the expenses. But it is worth for Korea all that it costs—and more.
Especially true is this, when we consider the effect which is had
in this way upon the Korean upper classes themselves. Indeed, it is
foreign social amenities and decencies, under the brave and efficient
leadership of the lady in whose house we stayed, that have made the
Korean court functions half-way tolerable, and that to this hour prevent
the housekeeping of the Palace from relapsing into an intolerable
condition of filth and disorder. But what the social functions that are
now encouraged by the Resident-General are in a measure doing is chiefly
valuable by way of bringing the Korean upper classes into apparently—and
as, I believe, the event will prove, genuinely—friendly relations with
the Japanese. This effect has already showed itself to a considerable
extent in the case of the Korean gentlemen. Not only those who have been
abroad, and those who are now going abroad (for the most part, to Japan),
but even the others are coming to appreciate the value of more cleanly
and elegant ways of enjoying one’s self socially than were conceivable by
their ancestors. Gluttony, drunkenness, filthy habits and surroundings,
seem less natural and attractive by comparison with a few degrees of
higher social refinement. The hardest crust to break will doubtless be
that which encompasses and crushes the Korean lady. In Japan there has
never been anything quite comparable to the still present degrading
influences bearing upon the womanhood of the upper classes in Korea.
But while we were in Seoul, for the first time so far as known in its
history, a Korean lady walked upon the streets, and after making several
calls in this fashion, rode home in the electric car! Her companion was a
Japanese lady, and the two were selling tickets to a public entertainment
given in behalf of a benevolent enterprise. Being present ourselves at
this same entertainment, we saw to our surprise quite one hundred Korean
women, dressed in their native costume, enter the theatre, and seat
themselves among the Japanese of their own sex. If this thing goes on,
racial hatred is doomed. For soon it is to be hoped, or feared, according
to one’s point of view, that Korean ladies will attend garden parties
and, perhaps, finally, frequent afternoon teas and evening receptions,
at which foreigners of both sexes are present. And this, I am sure, is a
sight never as yet beheld by mortal eyes; at least my eyes saw no sign of
its beginning as yet in the now half-opened “Hermit Kingdom.”
A few days after our arrival our host gave us an afternoon reception
at the Residency House. It was a beautiful day; and the grounds, which
had been decorated as it is difficult for other than the Japanese
professionals to do, were beautiful as was the day. The first two hours
were spent upon the hill above the Residence, from which there are fine
and extensive views of Seoul and its environing mountains. There, in
the several well-situated booths and tea-houses, light refreshments
were served. There, too, we were introduced to the whole of Seoul
“society,” some of whom we were glad to call our “friends,” when we
parted from them nearly two months later. The Japanese officials, the
foreign Consuls, with their wives and daughters, the Korean officials
without their families, the Roman Catholic Archbishop and the Protestant
missionaries, and a few of the leading business people, made up that
sort of a gathering which is most thoroughly human and most interesting.
A collation, with chatting and hand-shaking, in the Marquis’ apartments
closed a delightful afternoon.
Of the various garden parties, luncheons, dinners, and receptions, which
followed and not only enlivened the otherwise somewhat dull life of
lecturing, reading, consulting, and observing, it is not necessary to
speak in detail. The visit of Prince Tokugawa and his party to Seoul,
which was extended for some ten days, was very properly made the occasion
of a series of festivities, at most of which they were the guests of
honor; but at the last of which—a reception given in Miss Sontag’s
house—Prince Tokugawa was himself the host. The unaffected friendly
bearing of these Japanese gentlemen toward the Koreans, with whom they
were thus brought in contact, helped to soften the anti-Japanese feeling;
and since on one, at least, of these occasions, the reception given by
Mr. Megata, not only the foreign diplomats but also a number of the
foreign missionaries were invited, it gave to the latter a somewhat
unaccustomed opportunity to observe at close hand the enlightening fact
that Japan, like all other so-called civilized nations, does not have its
true character best represented by its coolies, low-lived adventurers,
camp-followers, and land-grabbing pioneers.
I close this brief description of our varied experiences in Seoul with
a warning against a very common but, in my judgment, quite fallacious
view of the relation in which the capital city stands to the entire
country of Korea. It is customary to say that “Seoul _is_ Korea” just
as “Paris is France.” But this is even less true in the macrocosm of
Seoul than in the macrocosm of Paris. It is indeed true, as Dr. Jones has
said, that “as the capital of the Empire its political pre-eminence is
undisputed. Intellectually and socially it has ruled Korea with an iron
hand for half a millennium.” But it is also true that the real interests
and undeveloped material and human resources of the nation are in the
country; and that the uneconomical, ignorant, and depressed condition of
the people outside of Seoul is the chief concern of all who really care
for the welfare of Korea. The local magistrates must be reformed, or the
well-nigh hopeless task of reforming the corrupt Court at Seoul would be,
if it could be accomplished, of little value to the nation. And if it
becomes necessary, in order to effect this reform, and so to bring about
the redemption, industrially, educationally, morally and religiously, of
the people of the country, then the “iron hand” which rules them from
Seoul must be either gloved or broken in pieces. But, in truth, the idol
at Seoul which the Koreans worship is an image of clay.