THE PROBLEM: HISTORICAL
An authentic and trustworthy history of Korea has never been written; and
enormous difficulties await the investigator who, in the future, attempts
this task. The native records, almost down to the present time, consist
of the same uncritical mixture of legend, fable, oral tradition, and
unverified written narrative which characterizes the earliest so-called
histories of all civilized peoples. But the Korean civilization has
not as yet produced any writer both ambitious and able to treat this
material in a way corresponding to the opportunity it affords. All the
narratives of events, except those of the most recent date, which have
been written by foreigners, have, of necessity, been lacking in that
intimate acquaintance with the Korean language, institutions, customs,
and the temperament and spirit of the people, which is the indispensable
equipment of the historian. The antiquities and other physical records of
an historical character have, moreover, never to any considerable extent
been explored. A striking example of this general truth was afforded
only a short time ago when Dr. George Heber Jones discovered the fact
that a wrong date (by a whole century) had been given for the casting of
the Great Bell at Chong-no—one of the most conspicuous public objects
of interest in Seoul; yet the correct date was inscribed on the bell
itself! The reason for this petty falsifying of historical fact was
characteristically Korean; it was in order that the honor of casting the
bell might be ascribed to the Founder of the present Dynasty.
In spite of these facts, however, the main outlines of the development
of Korea are unmistakable. Its history has been, for the ruling classes,
one long, monotonous, almost unbroken record of misrule and misfortune;
and for the people an experience of poverty, oppression, and the
shedding of blood. That they have endured at all as the semblance of
a nation, although not “as an organized state in the modern sense,”
has been due chiefly to these two causes: first, to a certain native
quality of passive resistance, varied by periods of frenzied uprising
against both native and foreign oppressors; and, second, to the fact
that the difficulties encountered in getting over mountains and sea, in
order to maintain a foreign rule long enough to accomplish these ends,
have prevented their stronger neighbors on all sides from thoroughly
subjugating and absorbing them. This latter reason may be stated in
another way: it has hitherto never been worth the cost to terminate the
independent existence of the Korean nation.
Nor is it difficult to learn from authentic sources the two most potent
reasons for the unfortunate and evil state throughout their history of
the Korean people. These reasons are, on the one hand, the physical
results of repeated invasions from the outside; and, on the other hand,
the adoption and perpetuation, in a yet more mischievous and degraded
fashion, of the civil and official corruptions received from Korea’s
ancient suzerain, China. It is customary to attach great importance, both
as respects the damage done to the material interests of the country,
and also as accounting for the Korean hatred of the Japanese, to the
invasion of Hideyoshi. But the undoubted facts do not bear out this
contention. The lasting effects of this incoming of foreign armed forces
from the south, and of their short-lived and partial occupation of Korean
territory, were relatively unimportant. None of the institutions of Korea
were changed; none of her physical resources were largely depleted. It
was just those places in which the Japanese remained in the most intimate
relations with the Koreans, where there was least permanent development
of race hatred. But the results of the successive invasions from the
north and northwest, by the wild tribes, by the Mongols, and by the
Chinese and Manchu dynasties, were much more injurious in every way to
the physical well-being of the peninsula.
It is one of the most remarkable contrasts between Japan and Korea that,
whereas the more distinctly moral elements of Confucianism moulded a
noble and knightly type of character in the former country, in its
neighbor the doctrines of the great Oriental teacher chiefly resulted
in forming the average official into a more self-conceited but really
corrupt and mischievous personality. Indeed, the baleful influence of
China, especially since the establishment of the Manchu dynasty, has
been the principal hindrance to the industrial and civic development of
Korea. The contribution made to its civilization by Chinese letters,
inventions, and arts, has been no adequate compensation for the
depressing and debasing character of the imported political and social
system. The official institutions and practices of the suzerain have for
centuries been bad enough at home; but here they have been even worse,
whether admiringly copied or enforced by the influence of its Court and
the power of its army. And, whereas the great multitude of the Chinese
people have displayed for a long time the inherent power of industrial
self-development and of successful business intercourse with foreigners,
the Koreans have thus far been relatively lacking in the qualities
essential for every kind of material and governmental success. Thus
all the civilization of Korea has been so characterized by weakness and
corruption as to excite contempt as well as disapprobation from the
moralist’s and the economist’s points of view. It is China and not Japan
which through some 2,000 years of past history has been the expensive and
bloody enemy, and the political seducer and corrupter of Korea.
The division of the history of Korea, made by Mr. Homer B. Hulbert, into
ancient and modern—the latter period beginning in 1392, with the founding
of the present dynasty—is entirely without warrant. “Modern history”
can scarcely be said to have begun in the so-called “Hermit Kingdom”
previous to the time when a treaty was concluded between Japan and Korea
by General Kuroda, acting as Plenipotentiary, on February 26, 1876. Even
then, the first Korean Embassy under the new _régime_, having arrived at
Yokohama by a Japanese steamer on the following May 29th, when it started
back to Korea a month later, refused all overtures of Western foreigners
to communicate with their country. From the time when the present kingdom
arose by the union of the three previously existing kingdoms, the doings
of the Korean Court and of the Korean people have been substantially the
same. When threatened by foreign invaders or by popular uprisings and
official rebellion at home, the Court—a motley crowd or mob, of King,
palace officials, eunuchs, concubines, blind men, sorceresses, and other
similar retainers of the palace—has, as a rule, precipitately fled to
some place of refuge, deserted by efficient military escort and in most
miserable plight. Only when behind walls and compelled to fight, or when
aroused to a blind fury in the form of a mob, does the average Korean
show the courage necessary to defend or to avenge his monarch. The saying
of the Japanese that “the Koreans are kittens in the field and tigers
in the fortress” characterized their behavior during the Hideyoshi
invasion; it is characteristic of them to-day. Three centuries ago,
when the king was in flight from Seoul to Pyeng-yang his own attendants
stole his food and left him hungry; and the Korean populace, left behind
in Seoul rose at once and burned and looted what the Court had not
carried away. “Before many days had elapsed the people found out that
the coming of the Japanese did not mean universal slaughter, as they had
supposed, and gradually they returned to their lands in the city. They
reopened their shops, and as long as they attended to their own affairs
they were unmolested by the Japanese. Indeed, they adapted themselves
readily to the new order of things, and drove a lucrative trade with the
invaders”![5] In these respects, too, the voice of Korean history is a
witness with a monotone; as it was in 1592 and earlier, so it has been
down to the present time.
In one other most important respect there has been little variation
in the records of Korean history. Brave, loyal, and good men, when
they have arisen to serve their monarch and their country, have never
been permitted to flourish on Korean soil. The braver, more loyal and
unselfish they have been, the more difficult has the path to the success
of their endeavors been made by a corrupt Court and an ignorant and
ungrateful populace. Almost without exception such men—rare enough at the
best in Korean history—have been traduced by their enemies and deserted
and degraded by their king. Curing the Hideyoshi invasion the most
worthy leader of the Korean forces by land was General Kim Tuk-nyung.
It is said that the Christian Japanese General Konishi had so high an
opinion of General Kim that he had a portrait of him made, and on seeing
it exclaimed: “This man is indeed a general.” But, on account of Kim’s
success, his enemies maligned him; the king had him arrested, brought
to Seoul, and, after a disgraceful trial, executed. In all Korea’s
history there has never been another man to whom the nation has owed
so much for his courage, devotion, and genius in affairs of war as to
Admiral Yi. It was he, more than all others—king, officers, and common
soldiers—who accomplished the final ill-success of the Japanese invasion.
It was Admiral Yi who destroyed all chance of re-enforcing the Japanese
army in Seoul, and who thus actually did what the Russian fleet in the
recent war could not begin to do. But this great patriot and successful
leader, under the same baleful influences, was degraded to the rank of a
common soldier and barely escaped with his life. Quite uniformly such has
been the fate of the true patriots and best leaders during all Korea’s
history, and this just because they were true and of the best. Such would
to-day be the fate of the saving elements left in Korean official circles
if the hand of Japan were withdrawn. Indeed, as we have already seen, the
most difficult part of the Resident-General’s problem is to cultivate
and to protect Korean leaders of a trustworthy character. It is Korea’s
national characteristic to “stone her prophets”; but few of them have had
“whited sepulchres” built to them by future generations.
The more ancient relations of Japan and Korea were such as are common
to people who inhabit contiguous lands at the corresponding stage of
civilization. “As to the relations between the two nations,” says
Brinkley,[6] “they were limited for a long time to mutual raids.” On the
one side, the Japanese could complain that, in the first century B.C.,
when a pestilence had reduced their forces, Korean freebooters invaded
Kiushiu and settled themselves in the desolated hamlets of the Japanese;
that the Koreans lent assistance to the semi-savage aborigines of the
same island and to the Mongol invaders; and that their citizens who
wished to enter into friendly relations of commerce with the neighboring
peninsula were treated with scorn and even with violence. On the other
side, there was valid ground for the charge that Japanese pirates, either
alone or in conjunction with Chinese, often invaded the coasts of Korea;
and that Japanese traders by no means always conducted themselves in a
manner to win the confidence and friendship of the inhabitants of the
peninsula.
[Illustration: Peony Point at Pyeng-Yang.]
The earlier trade relations between Japan and Korea were irregular and by
no means always satisfactory to either party. The wardens of the island
of Tsushima, which is by its very position a sort of natural mediating
territory between the two countries—the So family—had virtual control of
the legitimate commerce. They issued permits for fifty ships which passed
annually from ports in Japan to the three Japanese settlements in the
peninsula. These Japanese traders and the Korean officials behaved toward
each other in so objectionable fashion that a revolt of the settlers in
Fusan arose in 1610, in the effort to suppress which the Koreans were at
first defeated; but afterward, being re-enforced strongly from Seoul,
they compelled the settlers to retire from all the three settlements;
and thus for the time being the trade between Japan and Korea came to an
end. When, later, the Shogunate Government complied with the demand of
the Korean Government that the ringleaders of this disturbance should be
decapitated and their heads sent to Seoul, the trade was re-established.
But it did not attain its previous proportions; it was limited to
twenty-five vessels annually, and the settlements were abandoned. Similar
troubles recurred some thirty years later. The Shogun of that period,
too, caused the offenders to be arrested and handed over to the Korean
authorities; but the Court at Seoul continued its refusal to allow the
commerce with the Japanese to be expanded.
The amount of contribution made by Korea to the civilization of Japan in
those earlier days has probably been somewhat exaggerated. Both these
countries are chiefly indebted to China for the elements of the arts
and of letters, and for most of the other refinements of their culture;
these came to Japan, however, to a considerable extent _through_ Korea.
According to the records of the Japanese themselves, in the century
before the Christian era Chinese scholars came to Satsuma through Korea,
Tsushima, and the intervening islands. At about the same time Koreans
also brought Chinese civilization to Japan.[7] During the reign of
the Emperor Kimmei (555 A.D.), according to Japanese tradition, the
king of Kudara in Korea sent to Japan an envoy bearing an image of
Buddha and a copy of the Sutras. But while the Minister-President was
experimenting with its worship, the occurrence of a pestilence proved
that the ancestral deities were angry at the intrusion of a foreign form
of worship.[8] After the “subjugation of the three kingdoms of Korea a
number of Chinese and Koreans came to settle in Japan. In order to avert
confusion in family names and titles which might have arisen from this
cause, an investigation of family names was made in the 1430th year after
the Emperor Jimmu (about A.D. 770).” It will thus be seen that there are
probably in both countries families which have in their veins the mingled
blood of both races.
Relations tending to exasperate the feeling of each country against the
other continued through the centuries which constituted the Middle Ages
in Europe. In Japan the feudal system was approaching its more elaborate
and powerful development; in Korea the weakness and corruption of the
Court, the ignorance, suffering from oppression, and lawlessness of the
people were not improving. Thus the two nations were drawing further
and further apart and were following the paths which have led to such a
wide divergence in the now existing conditions—mentally, politically,
and socially. The various embassies sent by Kublai Khan to Japan during
the years of 1268-1274 A.D. came _via_ Korea and were accompanied by
Korean officials. The attempted Mongol invasions of Japan were assisted
by Korea. On the other hand, the peninsula continued to suffer from the
attacks of Japanese pirates. The inhabitants of the Southwest coasts of
Japan made raids upon the opposite coasts, engaging in open conflict with
the Korean troops, killing their generals, destroying their barracks,
and carrying away as plunder, horses, ships, and stores of grain. In
these encounters the soldiers of Korea showed their traditional lack of
courage in the field, frequently retreating before the Japanese raiders
without striking a single blow. Frequent envoys were sent from Korea
to remonstrate and demand reparation; and one of these took back with
him (1377 A.D.) several hundred Koreans who had been made prisoners by
the Japanese pirates, but were returned to their own country by Imagawa
Sadayo, Governor of Kiushiu. No really effective measures to stop piracy
were, however, taken by the Japanese Government until the time of the
ex-Shogun Yoshimitsu, who on several occasions had the pirates arrested
and handed over to China, the suzerain of Korea. For later on the
Japanese pirates associated themselves with Chinese pirates and pursued
their business of plunder quite impartially as against either Koreans
or Chinese. When the Koreans took reprisals upon those inhabitants of
Tsushima who were residing in the southern part of their land, the people
of that island made an attack upon Fusan and destroyed its fortifications
(1510 A.D.).
The first notable conflict between Korea and Japan was the invasion
of Hideyoshi. Various motives have been assigned for this war-like
expedition; the real motives were probably complex. Hideyoshi was
undoubtedly angry at Korea for her refusal to open the country to trade
with Japan. He was willing to take his revenge for the assistance that
had been given to the Yuan dynasty of Mongols in their attacks upon
Japan.[9] But he was especially desirous to get at China through Korea,
and to use the latter country as a base for his attack. He began (1587
A.D.) by sending a despatch to the warden of Tsushima directing him
to invite the King of Korea to an audience with the Emperor of Japan;
and he accompanied the invitation with a threat of invasion unless the
invitation were accepted. Next, having quite thoroughly “pacified” (in
Cæsar’s fashion) his own country, he sent a demand for presents—plainly
of a tributary character—with the same threat accompanying. This time an
envoy from his own person assured the Koreans that unless they complied
they would be compelled to march in the van of the Japanese army for the
invasion of China. Hideyoshi, when this insolent demand failed of its
purpose, first worshipped at the tomb of the Empress Jingo—the reputed
conqueror of Korea in most ancient times. In April, 1592, the Japanese
invading force, which consisted according to the Japanese records of
130,000 in eight army corps, sailed in a fleet manned by 9,000 sailors
with the Generals Konishi Yukinaga and Katō Kiyomasa leading the van.
They were to carry out the threat of the Taiko for the punishment and
subjugation of Korea. According to the statement of the authority we
are following,[10] Hideyoshi expected to conquer China in two years and
contemplated transferring the capital of Japan to that country. “He even
went so far as to determine the routine to be followed in the removal
of the Japanese Court to China.” How characteristic is this detailed
planning, without sufficient regard for the exigencies of time, the
enormous intervening obstacles, and the possible adverse will of heaven,
of the national temperament even down to the present time!
It is not necessary to our purpose to follow the early brilliant
successes and the disastrous ending of the invasion of Korea by
Hideyoshi. Both nations displayed their characteristic virtues and
faults during this period of intercourse by way of conflict—the knightly
courage and arrogant overconfidence of the Japanese, the passive power of
resistance and the weakness and political corruption of the Koreans. But
as to the invasion itself our sympathies must remain with Korea; it was
without sufficient warrant, conducted incautiously, and more disastrous
in its result to the invaders themselves than to the country which they
had, for the time being, desolated. By the courage and skill of Admiral
Yi and by the assistance of China, the forces of Japan were finally,
after a period of seven years, so reduced that Hideyoshi, at the point of
death, recalled them; and the war came to an end in 1598. The terms of
peace agreed to were on the whole humiliating to the Japanese.
The great Iyeyasu, the founder of the Tokugawa Dynasty, took measures,
repeatedly and patiently, to renew those relations of a promising
friendly character which had been dissolved in hatred by the invasion of
Hideyoshi. He sent repeated embassies to Korea, restored prisoners that
had been led captive at the time of the Taiko’s invasion, and spared no
pains to make the Koreans understand that a decided change of policy had
taken place in the Japanese Government toward their country. _From his
time onward, the official treatment given to Korea by Japan has been
conspicuous, as compared with the example furnished by other civilized
countries under similar trying conditions, for its fairness and its
friendliness._ This fact becomes amusingly obvious when we compare the
way in which the claims for tribute from Korea have been made by the two
countries, China and Japan. Under the Tokugawas the nominal sovereigns
paid the bills; but the Korean tribute-bearers (_sic_) had a largely
free junketing expedition of three months’ duration at the expense of
the Japanese. Under the Manchu Dynasty, however, the tribute fixed for
annual payment took a very substantial shape; it included 100 ounces
of gold, 1,000 ounces of silver, 10,000 bags of rice, 2,000 pieces of
silk, 10,000 pieces of cotton cloth, 10,000 rolls (50 sheets each) of
large-sized paper, and other less important items. Even then, it can
be seen, the Chinese greatly excelled the Japanese in their business
ability. Moreover, when the Koreans pleaded that the payment of tribute
to China had so impoverished them that they could not render what was due
to Japan, the Japanese forgave them the obligation (A.D. 1638).[11] Nor
was this the last time in which the forgiveness of debts was exercised
toward the Korean Government in a manner unaccustomed between nations of
conflicting interests.
Finally the Koreans, having obtained the consent of China, sent to Japan
a letter from their king, together with some presents; and from this time
onward, on the occasion of each change of Shogun, Korean envoys came to
the country to offer congratulations. The Tokugawas, on their side, were
careful to “treat these delegates with all courtesy and consideration”;
they also discontinued the offensive custom which the Ashikaga family had
followed, of assuming for the Shogun the title of “King of Korea.”[12]
Meantime, the So family improved the opportunity which their position as
intermediaries between Japan and Korea afforded to renew and increase
the trade relations of the two countries. It is probable that lasting
friendly intercourse would have been established from this time onward
if it had not been, at this period, as all through Korea’s unfortunate
history, for the baleful influence of China. This fact becomes prominent
in all the foreign relations of Korea during the half century following
the early attempts to open the Hermit Kingdom to intercourse with other
nations. The French and American expeditions for this purpose were
productive only of the result that the Koreans became more obstinate in
their resistance to outside influences, and more secure in their pride
and confidence in their ability to resist successfully through their
superior craft and courage in war. These expeditions illustrate, however,
the policy of China in maintaining its claims of suzerainty over Korea.
To take, for example, the experience of the United States in dealing with
this policy, it may be summarized in somewhat the following way:
The destruction of the American schooner _General Sherman_, in 1866,
was the occasion of some desultory correspondence between the American
and the Chinese Governments. The former presented the matter at Peking
because China was supposed to sustain some sort of relationship of
suzerainty, not clearly understood, toward Korea. China, however, would
not admit the existence of any kind of bond which made her responsible
for Korean acts; the Tsungli Yamen said, in effect, that there had
existed from ancient times a certain dependency by Korea upon China; but
they denied in express words that it was of such a nature as to give
China any right to control or to interfere with the administration of
Korean foreign or domestic affairs.
It was precisely this attitude which was the _fons et origo_ of the
subsequent trouble between China and Japan. From the Chinese standpoint,
as shown by official declarations and acts, Korea was and was not a
vassal state. She was so when it suited China actively to interfere, and
not so when it was either difficult or dangerous, or even troublesome, to
assume the responsibilities of suzerainty. China was not even willing to
act the part of intermediary if by doing so she could be held to accept
the _onus_ of making or compelling the reparation which America demanded.
Finally the United States Government took matters in its own hands and
the expedition under Admiral John Rodgers was sent to Korea in 1871. The
failure of that expedition to accomplish anything beyond the destruction
of the fort on Kang-wha Island, and Commodore Shufeldt’s subsequent
attempt to open up communication with the Korean Government, were the
total of American efforts regarding Korea up to the time when the
Shufeldt treaty was negotiated.
After the fall of the Tokugawa Government the Korean Court desisted from
the custom of sending an embassy to Japan to congratulate the succession
to the place of supreme rule; it even declared its determination to
have no further relations with a country which had embraced the Western
civilization. When the Government of the Restoration sent an envoy to
Korea to announce the change and to “confirm friendly relations between
the two states,” the Korean Court refused to recognize the envoy or to
receive his message. The real reason for this affront was the influence
of China; the ostensible reason referred to the fact that the term “Great
Empire of Japan” was employed in the Imperial letter. As says Brinkley:
“Naturally such conduct roused deep umbrage in Japan. It constituted a
verdict that, whereas the Old Japan had been entitled to the respect and
homage of neighboring Powers, the New might be treated with contumely.”
Thus, just when the affairs of the newly centralized Government were
assuming that condition of strength and harmony so imperatively demanded
for the present welfare and future prospects of Japan, dissension arose
among the Ministers of the Crown with regard to the policy to be pursued
toward Korea. Bitterness of feeling had already been excited by the fact
that when Japan returned to their country some shipwrecked Koreans, and
accompanied this humane act with other friendly advances, the advances
were repulsed and the Court of Korea declined even to receive the envoy.
And now, among the leaders of Japan, Saigo, Soyeshima, Itagaki, Goto,
and Eto, insisted on war for the purpose of avenging the insult; Okubo,
Iwakura, and Ito advocated peaceful means. Indeed, the so-called “Saga
Party” was confederated with these two purposes chiefly in view: (1)
the restoration of feudalism, and (2) the making of a punitive war upon
Korea. The peace party triumphed; the Satsuma rebellion followed; and
Japan made its first great contribution of treasure and blood toward
the maintenance of friendly relations with a Korea that, nominally
independent so far as its own selfish duplicity chose to consider it
so, was virtually subservient to all manner of foreign intrigue and
unscrupulous control.
This situation and the subsequent events, however, require a more
detailed consideration. According to Brinkley, the great Saigo Takamori,
who was a member of the Cabinet at this time, and who had been Chief
of the Army and one of the most powerful agents in bringing about the
Restoration, “saw in a foreign war the sole remaining chance of achieving
his ambition by lawful means. The Government’s conscription scheme, yet
in its infancy, had not produced even the skeleton of an army. If Korea
had to be conquered, the _samurai_ must be employed, and their employment
would mean, if not their rehabilitation, at least their organization
into a force which, under Saigo’s leadership, might dictate a new
polity. Other members of the Cabinet believed that the nation would be
disgraced if it tamely endured Korea’s insults. Thus several influential
voices swelled the clamor for war. But a peace party offered strenuous
opposition. Its members perceived the collateral issues of the problem,
and declared that the country must not think of taking up arms during a
period of radical transition.”[13]
The part of China at this time, as ever, in encouraging difficult and
threatening relations between Japan and Korea cannot be overlooked. In
the events of 1866 the Chinese did not maintain neutrality as between
the forces of the Shogunate and of the Imperial party, but secretly sold
arms to the former. They also engaged in the trade of kidnapping and
selling the children of indigent Japanese.[14] When, after the treaty of
1871 was concluded (namely, in 1872), the natives of Formosa murdered
some shipwrecked Loochoo islanders, the Peking Government declined to
acknowledge any responsibility for the conduct of the natives of Formosa.
And it was only through the offices of the British Minister that the
Chinese, after procrastinating and vacillating, agreed to pay 100,000
_taels_ to the families of the murdered, and 400,000 _taels_ toward the
cost of a punitive expedition which had been despatched against the
Formosans.
In 1875 another envoy was sent to Korea, but he returned with the
customary result; and in August of the same year a man-of-war _en route_
to China, which had put into the harbor of Chemulpo for fuel and water,
was fired upon by the Koreans. Whereupon the crew attacked and burned
the Korean fortress. And now the same question recurred in a still
more exasperating form: What shall Japan do with Korea, for whose bad
conduct China, while claiming rights of suzerainty in all her foreign
relations and actually exercising a determining influence over her
internal affairs, nevertheless declines to be responsible; and who will
not of herself regard any of those regulations, or common decencies of
international intercourse, which modern civilization has established as
binding upon all countries?
The considerations which prevailed on former occasions still held good
when Korea offered this new affront. The peace party, of which Marquis
Ito and Count Inouye were prominent members—the former being also a
member of the Cabinet—thought that it was Japan’s first duty to devote
all her energies to the task of domestic improvement, while cultivating
friendly relations with her neighbors. The problem which confronted the
advocates of peace was not an easy one. Saigo was in retirement in his
native province, surrounded by his devoted supporters, and it was easily
to be seen that he would take umbrage if this new insult was allowed to
pass unavenged, and would possibly make it the pretext for something more
serious than mere remonstrance. The decision in favor of peace instead
of war required a high order of courage. The state of public feeling
on the subject and the powerful opposition on which the Government had
to count was well illustrated by a petition presented nearly a year
later by the Tosa Association, over the signature of Kataoka Kenkichi,
afterward speaker of the Lower House of the Diet. Animadverting upon the
Government’s action, the petition said:
Our people knew that Korea is a country with which Japan
has had intercourse since the most ancient times. Suddenly
the intercourse was broken off, and when we sent an envoy
thither he was befooled and all his proposals were rejected.
Not only were the Koreans insulting, but they threatened
hostile resistance. It was proposed to send a second envoy to
remonstrate (?) against the treatment of the former one, but
the government suddenly changed its views and nothing further
was done. The people when they learned this became enraged, and
their feelings found vent in the rebellion of the samurai of
Saga.
This petition no doubt accurately reflects the state of public feeling at
the time to which it refers. The Government did not, however, yield to
the popular clamor for war, and this was due in no small measure to the
efforts of Marquis Ito. He counselled patience and advised his colleagues
from the outset that advantage should be taken of the opportunity to
place the relations of Japan and Korea upon a new basis by means of a
treaty of peace and friendship. These moderate counsels prevailed and the
Cabinet decided with the Imperial sanction to make the treaty, although
two of its members, Shimadzu Saburo and Itagaki subsequently resigned.
Marquis Ito fully appreciated the obstacles which the alleged suzerainty
of China opposed to the establishment of satisfactory treaty relations
between Japan and Korea. Accordingly he devoted himself, with the
assistance of M. Boissonade, the distinguished French publicist, and of
Mr. Inouye, the well-known Japanese authority, to a careful study of this
question. The decision reached was that the bond uniting China and Korea
was not, either historically or according to the rules of international
law, that of suzerain and vassal state. It therefore logically followed
that Korea must be approached directly and dealt with as an independent
Power. The importance of this decision cannot be overestimated. It was
the first formal recognition of Korean national independence. More than
that, it was the declaration on the part of Japan of a policy having in
view the political, commercial and economical progress of her neighbor.
By the treaty of 1876 Japan abandoned all of her own ancient claims to
suzerainty and did what she could to place Korea upon the high road to
prosperous national development which she herself was travelling. No
friend of Japan will claim that it was an entirely altruistic policy.
Her action was dictated as much by motives of intelligent self-interest
as by consideration for Korea. The fate of the peninsular kingdom was
of vital importance to Japan. As an appanage of China its condition
was hazardous. China had from ancient times claimed suzerainty over
all surrounding nations, but those claims had never proved a safeguard
nor prevented the subjugation or absorption of these so-called vassal
states by other Powers. In fact, they were an element of weakness in
quarrels where China herself was principal; for it might easily happen
that the vassal would be exposed to attack, in case China herself could
not easily be reached. This was especially the truth as regarded Korea,
concerning whom China had given direct proof that while prepared to claim
all the prerogatives of suzerainty when it implied no risk to herself,
she was only too likely, when a strong Power threatened, to shirk all
responsibility and abandon Korea to her fate. To treat with Korea as
an independent nation and thus to set an example which would in all
likelihood be followed by other Powers, seemed the best way of avoiding
such a catastrophe. At the same time there was good reason to hope, even
confidently to expect, that Korea, drawn into intimate intercourse with
the world, would be freed from the trammels which prevented progress,
and would gradually attain a condition where foreign aggression would be
impossible.
Count Kuroda and Count Inouye were appointed First and Second Envoys,
respectively, for the negotiation of the treaty. The representatives of
the Treaty Powers were frankly informed of the objects of the mission.
Before he left, Count Inouye called upon Mr. Bingham, the American
Minister, who cordially sympathized with the Government’s intentions,
and borrowed Bayard Taylor’s abridged history of Commodore Perry’s
expedition. The Count said he feared that the Koreans might show signs
of obduracy, in which case it would become necessary for his colleague
and himself to have recourse to some of the measures which Commodore
Perry found so efficacious. Inouye wished to have the book so that he
could refresh his memory and be better perfected in the part if it became
necessary to play it.[15]
As before intimated, the Japanese Government was anxious that the Treaty
of 1876 should be followed by like Treaties between Korea and other
Powers. It cordially tendered its good offices when Commodore Shufeldt
visited Japan previous to the negotiation of the treaty concluded by
him, and on subsequent occasions did what was possible to facilitate the
conclusion of other treaties with Korea. Its policy in that regard was
illustrated in an interesting way by the statement of Count Inouye, then
Minister for Foreign Affairs, to Mr. Bingham in 1882, with reference
to the appointment of General Foote, the first American Minister to
Korea. He said to Mr. Bingham, as the latter reported to Secretary
Frelinghuysen, that the action of the American Government “in ratifying
so promptly its treaty with Korea and accrediting a minister to that
kingdom gave great satisfaction to His Imperial Japanese Majesty’s
Government, and was accepted as another evidence of the policy of justice
so often manifested by the United States toward the states of Asia.” He
also said that it was considered an act of friendship toward Japan as
well as Korea.
In considering all the subsequent relations of Japan and Korea two things
should be kept distinctly in view as determining questions of justice and
injustice, of wisdom or unwisdom, in the policy of both countries. In the
first place: In order to conclude “a treaty of commerce and amity which
recognized the independence of Korea,” Japan rather than engage in a
punitive war, had encountered in its own territory a rebellion which cost
the Government of the Restoration no less than 60,000 men and 416,000,000
_yen_. And second, in allowing this treaty to go through in the form
which it actually took, China had been convicted of the duplicity and
wholly untenable character of its claims to exercise the rights of
suzerainty over Korea. On the latter point Minister Rockhill[16] affirms
that the conclusion in 1876 of the treaty of Kang-wha between Japan and
Korea “marks the beginning of a new era in the history of the latter
country, its entry into the family of nations.” “Prior to the Kang-wha
treaty,” this authority goes on to say: “The nature of Korea’s relation
to China was a puzzle to Western nations. They were told, at one and the
same time, that Korea, though a vassal and tributary state of China, was
entirely independent so far as her government, religion, and intercourse
with foreign states were concerned—a condition of things hardly
compatible with our ideas of either absolute dependence or complete
independence.”
“In 1871 the Chinese Foreign Office wrote the United States Minister
in Peking, Mr. Frederick F. Low, who had informed it of his recent
appointment by his Government as special envoy to Korea, and was about
proceeding there, that: ‘Korea is regarded as a country subordinate
to China, yet is wholly independent in everything that relates to her
government, her religion, her prohibitions, and her laws; in none of
these things has China hitherto interfered.’”[17] But the first Article
of the treaty signed in 1876 with Japan reads as follows: “Chosen, being
an independent state, enjoys the same sovereign rights as does Japan”;
and in 1882 the King of Korea wrote to the President of the United
States, when the two countries were about to enter into treaty relations,
pledging his Government that the terms of the treaty should be “carried
into effect according to the laws of independent states.”
It was this not merely theoretical suzerainty, but a pernicious practice
of interference and dictation on the part of China over Korea, joined to
the utterly corrupt and weak government of the latter country, which led
inevitably to the war between the former and Japan. Similar claims of the
Government of Peking, under existing political and social conditions,
over the weaker states which were alleged to be dependencies of this
Government, the civilized nations of the world have repeatedly found
themselves compelled to disregard; and this, in the interests of the
dependent people themselves.
The mental attitude and practical treatment which the Korean Court and
Yang-ban class in general have accorded to the treaties with Japan and
other foreign nations have been essentially unchanged from the beginning.
All depends upon the apparent immediate effect of foreign intercourse
on their ancient rights and privileges of office-bearing and official
“squeezing.” The Mins, the family of the late Queen, have always been
notoriously corrupt; and, if the Queen herself was ever sincerely opposed
to the anti-foreign policy, it is likely that the opposition had its
source in the selfish interests of her own family and in her hatred of
the King’s father, the Tai Won Kun. The latter was always consistently
and energetically opposed to all foreign intercourse.
The condition of affairs in Korea preceding the troubles of 1882 and
1884 is graphically and truthfully described by the report of Ensign
George C. Foulk, of the United States Navy, in which he submitted to
his Government information relative to the revolutionary attempt of the
latter date. With regard to the Government of Korea, Ensign Foulk says
that “it has been for an indefinite period under the practical control
of the Min Family, of which the Queen of Korea is at present the highest
representative. The blood of this family is largely Chinese, and it has
been always, and remains, the desire and aim of this family to subject,
and retain in subjection, their country to the suzerainty of China.
Members of this family are accorded special privileges by China, and are,
to the exclusion of other Korean noble families, on comparatively social
terms with the Court of China, which they visit frequently. The family is
very large, and includes the highest number of great nobles, with the
greatest landed estates, of all the families of the nobility in Korea....
The great body of Korean people know little or nothing of the politics
of their Government, nor do they dare to use any information they may by
chance possess on Government affairs.”
Ensign Foulk then goes on to draw attention to the remarkable phenomenon
that, while the Chinese “are detested for their appearance, conduct and
customs,” nothing by way of cruelty and fraud that they may do awakens
practical resentment; but the Japanese, on the contrary, while “even
admired by Koreans of the present day for their appearance, customs,
and conduct,” are so hated that the “Koreans are always ready for the
license when they may vent this feeling in shedding Japanese blood.” With
regard to the real attitude of the Queen’s family, he further affirms:
“This energy of the Mins [namely, in conducting negotiations for a treaty
with the United States] has given them the mistaken reputation of being
members of the progressive party in Korea; in fact, they only acted in
obedience to their hereditary lord, China, without a thought patriotic to
Korea, beyond that they, in common with all Koreans at that time, felt
the danger of the seizure of a part of Korea by Russia.”
Now, however, the Tai Won Kun, the bitter enemy of the Queen, had his
turn at the wheel on which the fate of this unfortunate country was
revolving, first in one direction and then in the other. In July, 1882,
taking advantage of disaffection among the soldiers of the capital,
occasioned by short rations issued by the Mins (a “steal in army
contracts”), he directed their revolt against that family, and, having
disposed of its members, seized the Government for himself. Many Mins
were killed; Min Tai-ho (father of Min Yong-ik) was left, supposed to
be fatally wounded, in a ditch; poison was to be administered to the
Queen, but a maid, personating her in disguise, took the poison and died
while the Queen escaped. Min Yong-ik shaved his head, and, after hiding
in the mountains three days, walked to Fusan whence he escaped to Japan
in the guise of a Buddhist priest. For his disobedience to its command
and his attempt to annihilate its royal servants, the Mins, the Chinese
Government sent its troops to Korea and carried off into banishment the
Tai Won Kun; but the power of the Mins in China’s behalf having been
greatly cut down by the revolt, Chinese troops were placed in Seoul
to strengthen the remainder, and continued there after the revolt was
suppressed.
It was, then, in connection with the armed interference of China in a
domestic quarrel between the wife and the father of the Emperor,—China,
which had repeatedly disclaimed all responsibility for Korean internal
affairs and which had permitted Korea to make a foreign treaty on terms
of equality,—that the Korean Court offered again, in 1882, another
affront to Japan. This time, also, the insult was written in blood. For
through no fault or offence on their part, a number of Japanese were
killed in the course of a domestic riot, and the Japanese Minister was
obliged to flee from the capital and to put to sea in a fishing boat,
whence he was rescued by an English vessel. The provocation was greater
than that for which western nations have frequently exacted exemplary
vengeance, much greater than the offence given by the rebellious Daimyo
of Choshin, for which the Treaty Powers had held Japan herself so
strictly to account. Nevertheless, Japan made due allowance for the
irresponsibility and weakness of the Korean Government. An apology, an
indemnity of 550,000 _yen_ (50,000 being for private sufferers), and a
Convention of two articles defining treaty limits, etc. (signed August
30, 1882), were the sum of her demands. The payment of 400,000 _yen_ of
the indemnity was afterward remitted. The instructions of the Emperor of
Japan commanding this to be done contained the following declaration:
We hereby remit four hundred thousand _yen_ of the indemnity
of five hundred thousand _yen_ due from Korea, which sum we
sincerely trust will be employed to supplement the funds
already devoted to the introduction of civilization into the
country.
It is a curious coincidence that the Minister who, on the 9th of
November, 1884, transmitted this message, was obliged only a few weeks
later to flee from Seoul like his predecessor, on account of the
perpetration of outrages against Japan, even greater than those for which
the indemnity had been exacted.
This renewal of the stipulated condition of commerce and amity between
Japan and Korea, with its renewed act of forgiveness on the part of the
former toward the latter, only prepared the way for the more serious
outrages of 1884. The Chinese force which was sent to support the
anti-foreign and unprogressive policy of the Min family, proceeded to
take up permanent quarters in extensive camps within the walls of Seoul.
They erected a fort close by the palace gates and two others outside of
the city, in a situation to defend the approaches from the river Han.
A little later they increased the number of Chinese troops in Seoul to
3,000 men. In the opinion of Ensign Foulk, the confession forced from
certain Korean officials revealed the truth that these foreign soldiers
were quartered in the capital city in order to enforce a secret agreement
between China and the Mins, representing Korea, which gave to the Peking
Government rights of suzerainty such as it had never even claimed before.
Then began an increasingly bitter strife between the reactionary party,
supported by Chinese soldiers, and the reform party, the leaders of
which had been abroad (chiefly in Japan) and had returned determined to
exert themselves to bring about reforms and to introduce the benefits
of Western civilization in their native land. Japan, however, had given
the frankest and most sincere assurances that such troops as it kept
in Korea were only for the defence of its own Legation, and that it
aimed to assist Korea in all its efforts at progress. “From Japan,”
says Ensign Foulk, “came a number of qualified Japanese, who were held
in readiness to begin teaching the use of machinery, the manufacture of
paper, pottery, etc. Steps were also taken towards securing a director of
agriculture, school teachers, and several other foreigners for service
under the Korean Government. In regard to these the initiatory steps were
taken in consultation with the progressive leaders, including the King,
in which I was warmly invited to have a voice.”[18] Gradually, however,
in part through fear, in part through jealousy, and perhaps also with
some degree, in certain cases, of more intelligent and honorable reasons,
certain leading members of the progressive party fell more and more under
Chinese influences.
How insolently the foreign soldiers from China during this period treated
the Koreans may be learned from the following incident. In August, 1884,
a Korean officer of high rank was openly seized by a party of Chinese
soldiers and beaten by them in the street so severely that his life was
despaired of; this was the outcome of a quarrel between the Chinese
Commissioner and the Korean officer about the right of passage through
a gateway of the Korean officer’s house, which was next to that of the
Chinese officer. “On the contrary,” says Ensign Foulk, “the attitude of
the Japanese in Seoul had always been such as to indicate an earnest
desire to aid the party of progress, and to be on peaceable, friendly
terms with the people. The conduct of Japanese citizens toward Koreans
was commendable. As indicating great consideration on the part of the
Japanese Government toward Korea, was the restraint placed upon Japanese
merchants establishing themselves in Seoul, by the Japanese Minister, who
evidently in doing so followed the spirit of the treaties, by which the
capital was not to be thrown open to trade if the Chinese left.”
[Illustration: The Tong-Kwan Tai-Kwol Palace.]
When their factional strifes had the customary expression in revolution,
arson, and bloodshed, the Koreans, aided by the Chinese soldiers, turned
upon the Japanese. The subsequent occurrences and the way that the
Japanese Government dealt with them are narrated in the words of one who
was an eye-witness of, and an actor in, them:[19]
With subsequent occurrences I am personally familiar, having
accompanied Count Inouye, Minister for Foreign Affairs, when he
went as Special Ambassador to Korea to settle the difficulty.
This was another occasion when public excitement ran very
high in Japan. The nation was clamoring for war with China,
and the feeling of keen indignation in Army and Navy circles
was strongly marked. Following so closely upon the events of
1882 this new outrage appeared to all classes to be the last
straw. The Government, however, then under the premiership
of Marquis Ito, was determined to have recourse to the last
resort only after every means of honorable accommodation had
been exhausted. As Marquis Ito’s mission to China subsequently
showed, it was also determined to settle once and for all,
so far as that could be done, the question of China’s right
forcibly to interfere in Korean domestic brawls, which was
really the gravest feature of the occurrence.
The choice of an official of Count Inouye’s high rank showed
the importance which the government attached to the mission.
The designation of Admiral Kabayama and General Takashima,
typical representatives of the prevailing feeling in Army and
Navy circles, to accompany him, was most sagacious. It was
proof to the Army and Navy, as well as to the people at large,
that nothing would be done in the dark, and that no arrangement
would be concluded in anywise damaging to Japan’s honor or
prestige.
It must be confessed that there was good ground for indignation
in Japan. A domestic revolution had taken place in Seoul,
attended by many of the incidents common where government
is “despotism tempered by assassination.” But neither Japan
nor her agents were responsible for that. Mr. Takezoye, the
Japanese Minister, had gone to the Palace with his bodyguard,
at the King’s request, to guard the royal person. It was a
technical mistake, no doubt on the Minister’s part, for he
should not have interfered in the matter, or, at the most,
should have asked the King to come to the Legation. But there
can be no doubt that he acted in good faith. He was an amiable
scholar rather than a diplomat and had always maintained the
most cordial personal relations with the King. The latter
was never in any sense a prisoner in his hands, as was shown
conclusively by the visit of the foreign representatives.
The populace of Seoul, egged on by the conservatives, took a
different view, however, as did also the large force of Chinese
troops gathered at the Chinese Legation. The former slaughtered
all the Japanese they could reach, and the latter, some 3,000
in number, in company with several hundred Korean soldiers,
attacked the Japanese soldiers. The little Japanese force (143
in number, not 400 as Hulbert states) beat them off with heavy
loss, without themselves suffering any serious casualties. By
that time, however, the conservatives had gained the upper hand
in the palace. The King informed Mr. Takezoye that he did not
require further assistance from him, preferring to be guarded
by his own soldiers; whereupon the Minister, as in duty bound,
returned to the Legation. He found his position untenable,
however, and resolved to go to Chemulpo. There were about 200
non-combatants at the Legation to be cared for, among them
many women and children. Guarding these as best they could
the little band of soldiers started for the city gate through
streets filled with a hostile mob. It was a dangerous march; a
march which foreigners who were in Seoul at the time described
to me with admiration. Numbers of armed Koreans were gathered
to oppose it, not the least formidable being those who threw
stones and other missiles from the house tops. At one point
some Korean soldiers brought out Gatling guns, but these were
charged and disabled before any use could be made of them. The
Japanese forced their way, finally, through the West Gate, and
thence on to Chemulpo, with casualties of one killed and a
number wounded. The Legation was looted and set on fire several
hours after it was deserted, and was completely destroyed.
Mr. Takezoye was at Chemulpo when Count Inouye arrived on
the 31st of December. The Count was also met by Mr. von
Mollendorff, a high official of the Chinese Customs, detailed
for duty in Korea, who likewise acted in a diplomatic capacity.
Count Inouye informed him that he intended to go to Seoul at
once and to demand an audience at the earliest practicable
moment. Mr. von Mollendorff had various reasons to urge for
delay, but Count Inouye swept them aside, and the Embassy
proceeded to Seoul the next day; it was accompanied by about
400 soldiers, a smaller force having been left at Chemulpo.
In Seoul, where they arrived that night, the Ambassador and
suite were lodged in the yamen of the Governor of the City,
just outside the West Gate. The same night the Ambassador
presented his formal request for an immediate audience. It met
with the customary Oriental reception: His Majesty was not in
robust health; the Ambassador himself must be tired and in need
of rest after his long journey; the attention of His Majesty
was occupied with preparations for a fitting reception of His
Excellency, and so on. Mr. von Mollendorff was kept very busy
running back and forth, but finally it was made clear to the
minds of the King’s advisers that Count Inouye meant exactly
what he said, and that disagreeable things might happen if he
did not have his way.
The audience was finally appointed for January 3d. On the
morning of that day the cavalcade set forth, a military band
trained by a foreign band-master in the van; then a mounted
guard of honor; then the Ambassador, accompanied by Admiral
Kabayama and General Takashima and followed by his secretaries,
and bringing up the rear a company of infantry. As the
procession passed through the Gate and emerged into the wide
street leading to the East Gate, a curious and inspiriting
spectacle presented itself. The morning was fresh and clear;
the air crisp and invigorating, and the broad, sunny street
as far as the eye could see was one mass of gaily clad
humanity, men dressed in coats of every color, white, as is
usual, predominating. The crowds parted before the head of the
procession like waves beneath the prow of a ship; the Korean
police ran alongside plying their many-thonged whips with
indiscriminate zeal; and then, as if to add the last queer
touch to the whole proceeding, the band struck up “Dixie.”
Nor did odd happenings end here. When the procession arrived
at the triple gates of the Palace, the centre gate was closed.
Count Inouye halted the line immediately and demanded the
reason. It was explained by Mr. Mollendorff that the centre
gate was reserved for the King, and that the side gates
were used by the highest dignitaries. Count Inouye replied
that he was an Ambassador, the personal representative of
his sovereign, and that as such he could not pass through
an inferior entrance. Back went the messenger behind the
barred gate, and in a few minutes appeared again breathlessly
explaining that to their great chagrin and regret, royal
etiquette, binding upon His Majesty as upon his lowest subject,
could not be disregarded. Upon that Count Inouye blandly
retorted that he also was bound by etiquette, immutable and
unchangeable; and that if the gate was not opened within three
minutes, much to his regret he would be obliged to retrace his
steps and to report to his Imperial Master this new slight to
Japan. The gate was opened without further delay.
After that the audience passed off smoothly. Count Inouye was
careful to impress upon the King’s mind, as upon the minds of
his advisers, that while his mission was one of peace, much
depended upon the sincerity and promptitude with which Korea
met Japan’s just demands for redress and upon the guarantees
she gave against the recurrence of like causes of complaint.
The negotiations throughout were conducted in that spirit.
The Ambassador was kindly and considerate, but would tolerate
no paltering or double-dealing. He couched his demands in
firm but friendly language, made every allowance for the
embarrassing position in which the King found himself, placed
the responsibility for what had happened where it belonged,
but made it very clear all the while that neither he nor
his government would be trifled with. This was shown in a
sensational way at the first formal meeting of the Ambassador
with the Korean plenipotentiaries. The meeting had hardly
convened when suddenly a bustle was heard in the courtyard,
and, without further notice, the Chinese Consul-General
entered, suavely bowing to those present. Paying no attention
to him, Count Inouye sprang to his feet and demanded of
the Chief Korean Plenipotentiary what the intrusion meant,
and whether the Chinese official had ventured upon this
extraordinary step with his knowledge and consent. If that
were the case, he would regard it as his duty to break off the
negotiations at once, for the Japanese Government would not
tolerate for a moment any interference of that kind, and would
warmly resent Korea’s connivance with it. There was a hasty
disavowal on the Korean side, the Consul-General lamely adding
that as China and Japan and Korea were friends, and as the
matter under discussion was of interest to all three, he had
come of his own accord to participate in a friendly way in the
proceedings. He thereupon withdrew somewhat less blithely than
he had entered. Count Inouye then repeated what he had said and
gave the Korean plenipotentiaries clearly to understand that
he would not tolerate the repetition of such childish antics,
but would regard them, if again attempted, as reason for the
gravest offence. This warning had its effect; the negotiations
thereafter proceeded expeditiously and the Convention was
signed on the 9th of January. It stipulated an apology; the
payment of an indemnity of 110,000 _yen_ to the relatives of
the murdered and the merchants who had been plundered; the
punishment of the murderers of Captain Isobayashi, military
_attaché_; the furnishing of sites for legation and consulate,
materials for building the same, and 20,000 _yen_ to pay the
cost of construction; the building of barracks for Japanese
troops adjacent to the Legation; and further that the murderers
of Captain Isobayashi should be punished within twenty days
after the convention was signed.
The events of 1882 and 1884 had emphasized what the entire history of
the relations of Japan and Korea had made manifest—namely, that some
distinct understanding with China must be reached if the two neighboring
countries were ever to live together in peace. The task of establishing
such an understanding was assigned to Marquis Ito, and in the spring
of 1885 he proceeded to China as Japan’s special Ambassador. Li Hung
Chang, who was then Viceroy of Chi-li, was the Ambassador appointed by
the Peking Government. The latter appointment was the more significant
because Li was supposed to entertain a profound distrust and dislike of
the Japanese; moreover, Yuan Shi Kai, whose subsequent career has been so
important in the politics of the Far East, and who had been in command of
the Chinese soldiers at the time of their slaughter of the Japanese in
1884, was a _protégé_ of Li’s. In spite of the inherent difficulties, the
broad statesmanship and frankness of the Marquis overcame them; and the
intercourse of these two men, whose personality and policy afterward had
so much to do with the history of their respective countries, resulted
in their becoming friends. The Chinese statesman expressed regret that
he had not met Ito before, since he had now for the first time gained
a correct conception of Japan’s policy; he even went so far as to ask
the Marquis to mention the need of governmental reforms to the Dowager
Empress of China, who became angry at him, her own Viceroy, when he
ventured to refer to the matter before her.
On the 18th of April, 1885, a Convention was signed which was intended
to prevent in the future all recurrence of events similar to those of
the previous December. The important point of this Convention is that
both sides pledged themselves against armed interference in Korea except
in pressing emergencies and after mutual consultation. This agreement,
while it saved the “face” of China—a matter so imperatively important
from the Chinese point of view—was a virtual abandonment of her claim
of suzerainty; for it gave to Japan, which made no such claim, equal
interest in the internal affairs of Korea and equal right to send troops
into its territory, in case the judgment of both countries recognized
such a need. The agreement also promised good for Korea herself, since
it made the use of Chinese or Japanese soldiers in control of Korean
affairs more unlikely for trifling reasons; and, on the other hand, it
safeguarded her against other foreign armed intervention as the result of
her domestic intrigues.
The story of what followed and led up to the war with Japan is, briefly,
as follows: The stipulations of this Convention were observed by Japan
both in letter and in spirit, and by China, upon the surface at least.
For a few years neither Power sent troops to Korea; and China ceased
to flaunt the claim to suzerainty before her neighbor’s face. But she
still cherished the fiction and sought to maintain by indirection, and
by means peculiarly Chinese, what she had failed to uphold in the open.
Thus, in 1887, as stated in Moore’s _Digest of International Law_: “The
Chinese Government sought to prevent the departure of a Korean envoy
to the United States on the ground of the dependent relation of Korea
toward China. The American Minister at Peking was instructed to express
surprise and regret at this action on the part of the Chinese Government.
The envoy finally set out on his journey, but when he arrived in the
United States the Chinese Minister at Washington wrote the Department of
State to the effect that the Korean envoy would, on his arrival there,
report to the Chinese Legation, and would be presented through it to the
Department of State; after which he might apply for an opportunity to
present his credentials to the President.
“The Korean envoy, on the day after his arrival in Washington, addressed
a note to Mr. Bayard, as Secretary of State, asking for an interview to
arrange for the presentation of his credentials to the President. Such
an arrangement was duly made, and the envoy was presented without the
intervention of the Chinese Minister. ‘As the United States,’ said Mr.
Bayard, ‘have no privity with the interrelations of China and Korea, we
shall treat both as separate governments customarily represented here by
their respective and independent agents.’”
So unmistakable a declaration as this from a friendly, impartial Power
would, it might reasonably be thought, have caused China to abandon her
shadowy pretensions. It did not have that effect, however. Her agents in
Korea committed no overt act which was likely to provoke remonstrance
from the Treaty Powers; but they lost no opportunity of preserving in
the Korean mind at least the fiction of dependency upon China. Yuan
Shi Kai, for example, “Claimed, and to a large extent obtained, the
position of Chinese Resident at Seoul. His official title was ‘Director
General Resident in Korea of Diplomatic and Consular Relations,’ and his
substantive rank in his own country was that of Intendant of Circuit, a
rank corresponding, according to the Anglo-Chinese Treaty, to that of a
Consul.... Resident Yuan was permitted to proceed to the Audience Hall in
his chair and to be seated in the presence of the King, privileges not
accorded to the representatives of the other Powers.” (Wilkinson’s _The
Government of Korea_.) The privileges thus claimed by this representative
of China were obtained in the course of several years after the
conclusion of the Convention of 1885. They were largely ceremonial in
character and none of the representatives of the Treaty Powers ever
recognized the right of the so-called Resident to interfere in any manner
in their business with the Korean Government. Whatever there was peculiar
in his relations to that Government was a question of an understanding,
practically secret, and never formally enunciated or recognized, between
the Korean Court and himself. The conditions then prevailing in Korea
were highly conducive to the existence of such anomalies. An amiable but
weak King; a corrupt Court and Government, with two powerful factions
struggling for supremacy and stopping at nothing to gain it—these were
ideal conditions for the exercise of Chinese diplomacy. It accomplished
nothing in the end, however, even in the hands of such an astute and able
man as Yuan Shi Kai. Japan, of course, never recognized his pretensions,
but, biding her time and always dealing with Korea as an independent
state, devoted herself to the promotion of the rapidly growing commercial
and industrial interests of her people in the peninsula.
Naturally neither the Government nor the people of Japan could view
without resentment the attempts on China’s part to maintain rights she
had already practically surrendered. But this feeling did not assume a
definite form until the assassination of Kim Ok Kiun at Shanghai, in
March, 1894, and the arrest of a confederate of the murderer in Japan,
who confessed that he was officially commissioned to murder another
one of the Korean political refugees. These events aroused a storm
of indignation in Japan. What followed added fuel to the flames. The
murderer and the body of his victim were conveyed on board a Chinese
man-of-war to Korea. The murderer was rewarded and the severed parts of
Kim’s body were publicly exhibited in different parts of Seoul. Rightly
or wrongly this barbarous act, against which the foreign representatives
at the instance of the Japanese Minister unofficially protested, was
attributed to the Queen’s party. The excitement it caused had not
subsided when, in May, came the “Tong Hak” rebellion. The Tong Haks were
religious fanatics, the chief article of whose creed was said to be the
massacre of all foreigners. Seoul was rife with rumors, and the utmost
alarm and confusion prevailed. According to the report of the American
Minister, the rebellion was practically suppressed on the 3d of June by
Korean troops; and on the 8th of June the Government officially announced
that it was at an end. In the meantime, however, the Chinese Government,
without previous notice to Japan or mutual consultation, as stipulated
in the Convention of 1885, sent a force of 2,000 troops to Korea, which
on June 10th landed at A-San, about forty miles south of Chemulpo,
ostensibly to suppress the rebellion. The American Minister, Mr. Sill,
in his report on the subject to the Department of State, says that
“this was done at Korean request, dictated and insisted on by Yuan, the
Chinese Resident.” Learning of the purpose to send troops, the Japanese
Government promptly remonstrated with the Government at Peking, and in
reply was informed (after the act) that the troops had been sent because
urgently needed to suppress disorders in “the vassal state.” There was
no explanation and no apology beyond this palpable and contemptuous
violation of the terms of the Convention of 1885. There was but one
possible response. On the same day that the Chinese troops landed, a
force of Japanese marines was sent to the capital, to be replaced a few
days later by a larger body of soldiers. The scene of the struggle was
then transferred to Seoul. The Korean Government, having brought the
trouble on its own head, showed its usual impotence. It begged both Japan
and China to leave, and sought aid from the foreign representatives in
the effort to persuade them to do so. China was quite willing to accede
to these appeals. Possibly her agent on the spot, it may even be the
Government at Peking, was startled by the promptitude with which Japan
had accepted the challenge. In any event, China had nothing to lose and
much to gain by doing as Korea asked. She could leave the scene with
flying banners, having shown that Korea was in fact her vassal; that the
Convention was waste paper and that Japan could be flouted with impunity.
Naturally this programme did not commend itself to Japan. According
to her view of the situation there were certain vital questions to be
settled before the troops were withdrawn. Foremost among these was the
decision of Korea’s actual status; then, subsidiary to this, but none the
less important, the adoption of certain reforms which, while improving
the public administration and promoting the common weal, would prevent
the recurrence of disturbances which were a constant menace to the
welfare of Korea and her neighbors. Accordingly, the Japanese Minister
presented a memorial on the proposed reforms and demanded a categorical
statement as to whether Korea was a vassal of China or not.
Regarding the latter demand the American Minister reports that “This
caused great consternation,” since if they (the Korean Government)
answered in the negative they would offend China, while an affirmative
answer would bring down the wrath of Japan. After many consultations
and several reminders to be prompt from the Japanese, an answer was
given in this sense: “Korea, being an independent state, enjoys the same
sovereign rights as does Japan (see Treaty of Kang-wha, 1876), and that
‘in both internal administration and foreign intercourse Korea enjoys
complete independence’ (see letter of the King to the President of the
United States). They supposed that by thus quoting the treaties which
China allowed them to make she cannot take offence, while Japan should be
content with such an answer.”
The breaking out of hostilities between China and Japan was, of course,
the occasion of renewal in acute form of internal strife between the
conservative and the progressive forces in Korea. But for the time being
the progressive forces, backed by the dominance of the Japanese, were
the stronger. On the 5th of August, 1894, the Korean treaty with China
was denounced; on the 15th of the same month it was formally abrogated
by the Korean Government; and on the 19th notice of an entirely new plan
of Government was officially issued. On September 3d Marquis Saionji,
special Ambassador from the Emperor of Japan, had an audience with the
King and presented him with gifts, in honor of his accession to the
position of an independent sovereign. Numerous reforms[20] which had been
discussed in the Korean Council on July 31st of this same year and agreed
upon as laws to be submitted to His Majesty for his approval, instead of
being sincerely, wisely, and perseveringly enacted and enforced, became
the causes of increased defection, intrigue, and internal dissensions.
The rebellion (referred to above as the “Tong Hak” rebellion), which had
been reported as suppressed the previous June, broke out in a still more
dreadful form on the first of October (1894). The Korean rebels became a
“disorganized pillaging mob.” Taxes were no longer paid; Korean officials
were robbed and mutilated or murdered; small parties of the Japanese
were attacked and tortured to death after the traditional manner of the
nation. Meantime the Japanese forces were quite uniformly victorious
both by land and by sea; and on October 9th the last of the Chinese
forces were driven across the Yalu River. A solemn “oath, sworn at the
royal temple by His Majesty the King of Korea, while he worshipped, on
the 12th day of the twelfth moon of the five hundred and third year of
the foundation of Ta Chosen” (January 7, 1895), bound him to “give up
all idea of subjection to China and to labor firmly to establish the
independence of Korea”; “to decide all political affairs in council with
his Cabinet”; “to prevent Her Majesty the Queen, his concubines, and all
the royal relations from interfering in affairs of state,” thus securing
a separation between their affairs and those of the royal household; and
to introduce and foster other reforms of a political and educational
character. How poorly His Majesty kept his solemn oath, the subsequent
history of his throne and of his nation abundantly shows.
By the Chino-Japan war the dominating and baleful influence of China
was for all time removed, and to Korea was secured the opportunity for
an independent and progressive national development under the guidance,
and by the assistance, of Japan. That the Government of Japan honestly
wished for this good to come to Korea, there is no reasonable ground of
doubt. That the good did not follow is, however, due to the fault of both
nations. As regards the character and conduct of the average political
reformer there is a marked similarity between the Japanese and the
Koreans. Such a one is apt to be over-confident, and even self-conceited;
to have only a scanty acquaintance with the fundamental principles of
politics and of statesmanship; to be lacking in a judicial estimate of
the difficulties to be overcome; to make use (often with an apparent
preference for them) of offensive rather than conciliatory means; and to
have no adequate apprehension of the value of time, and of the necessity
of securing time, in order to effect important changes in national
affairs. Neither has he learned the art of compromise in consistency
with the maintenance of important moral principles. That Japan has not
hitherto failed in reforming herself as conspicuously as Korea is chiefly
due, after making proper allowances for the different environments of the
two nations, to the great difference in the character of the two Emperors
who have been upon their thrones during the period of trial; to the fact
that Japan has had a body of most conspicuously wise leaders—something
Korea has completely lacked; and to the difference as respects the
essential spirit of loyalty among the people which the feudal system
developed in Japan, but which has never been to any extent developed in
Korea.
The complete inability of the Korean official to comprehend, or
to sympathize with, the motives which led the representatives of
Japan—first, Mr. Otori and then Count Inouye—to urge the adoption of
administrative reforms may be judged by the fact that the King’s father,
the Tai Won Kun, handed to Inouye on his arrival as Minister at Seoul a
list of sixty persons whom he wished to have forthwith executed in order
to secure himself in control of affairs. Squabbles for power between the
party of the Queen and the party of the Tai Won Kun therefore continued
and even became increasingly acute. The Korean hot-head progressives were
pushing reforms without sufficient regard to the existing conditions.
But for a time the presence of a real statesman as the representative of
Japan in Korea kept the evil forces in check.
Count Inouye’s appointment to the post of Minister was an eloquent proof
of the profound interest which the Japanese Government took in Korea,
and of its earnest desire to aid her in the promotion of domestic reform
and progress. On the Count’s part, personally, the acceptance of such
a task, difficult and in many ways distasteful, was an exhibition of
self-sacrificing patriotism, to which the present action of his bosom
friend and associate, Marquis Ito, affords a striking parallel. While
striving to reconcile the warring Korean factions, he devoted himself
to the improvement of administrative conditions and to the promotion of
the public welfare. He attained a measure of success in some directions,
and would undoubtedly have achieved more lasting success had it been
possible for him to remain longer in Korea. His singleness of purpose was
recognized by many Koreans, and the sincerity of his endeavors to benefit
Korea was acknowledged by foreign observers. But the task was too heavy
for the time he could devote to it.
Finally, other more imperative duties called Count Inouye home, and
he was succeeded by Viscount Miura, a man of a different stamp. Then
followed the murder of the Queen, with all its unhappy train of
consequences. Although the crime was undoubtedly concocted by the Queen’s
implacable enemy, the Tai Won Kun, the Japanese Government never sought
to evade the share of responsibility imposed upon it. The tragedy was
a far severer blow to Japanese interests than to those of Korea, for
the Queen alive, and even still bitterly hostile to Japan, could never
have worked the harm that the manner of her taking-off had caused. And,
indeed, while apology for this murder from the moral point of view cannot
be justified, in spite of the cruel character of the victim and of the
fact that there was then visited upon her only the same treatment which
she had herself given to scores and hundreds of others, when considered
from the diplomatic point of view the act was even more foolish and
reprehensible.
The following account from Hershey[21] gives in brief, but with
sufficient detail for our purposes, the events of this period:—
The impolitic attempts at hasty and radical reform in Korea,
which followed the outbreak of the Chino-Japanese war, were
resisted by the Court party at Seoul, headed by the Queen and
the Min family to which she belonged. Early in October, 1895,
the Queen planned a _coup d’état_ with a view to disbanding
the soldiers who had been trained by Japanese officers, and of
replacing the pro-Japanese partisans of reform in the Korean
Cabinet by her friends. The result was a counter-plot (in which
the King’s father, the veteran conspirator Tai Won Kun, was
a prime mover) to seize the King and Queen with the aim of
obtaining complete control of the Korean Government in interest
of the pro-Japanese and reform party. In carrying out this
plot (in which the Japanese Minister Miura seems to have been
an accomplice) the Queen was murdered by Japanese and Korean
ruffians.
“This disgusting crime,” Hershey goes on to say, “although it assured
the power of the reform Cabinet for the time being, reacted upon its
perpetrators, and was followed, four months later, by another equally
revolting, by means of which Russia gained control of the Government of
Korea. In January, 1896, there took place a slight uprising in Northern
Korea, at the instigation, it was said, of pro-Russian leaders. When the
major portion of the army had been sent out of the capital to suppress
the rebellion, 127 Russian marines with a cannon suddenly landed at
Chemulpo on February 10, and immediately entered Seoul. The next day the
King, accompanied by the Crown Prince and some court ladies, fled in
disguise to the Russian Legation, where he remained until February 20,
1897.”
Following this escapade the Prime Minister, Kim Hong Chip, a man widely
respected and in no way connected with the murder of the Queen, and Chung
Pyang Ha, equally innocent of the same crime, were deliberately thrust
forth from the palace gates into the hands of the waiting mob, which,
in true Korean fashion, tore them limb from limb. Another Minister was
killed a few days later in the country. Thus ended Japan’s attempt to
enter into friendly relations with Korea while the latter nation was
in the anomalous condition of an independent dependency of China. Two
valuable results, however, had been reached: Korea had been definitively
and finally delivered from Chinese control and dominating influence; and
her own inability to stand alone and to inaugurate the needed reforms
had been, it would seem, quite sufficiently demonstrated. Japan, on the
other hand, had not as yet shown her ability wisely to inaugurate and
effectively to secure these reforms; and by the injudicious action of
her representative in Korea she had thrown the temporary control of the
Korean Court into the selfish and intriguing hands of other foreigners.
The events of the next decade, therefore, led logically and irresistibly
forward to a yet more desperate struggle, at a yet more frightful cost,
to solve the Korean problem.