The road to Seoul--The _Mapu_--Ponies--Oxen--Coolies--Currency--Mode of
carrying weights--The Han River--Nearly locked out.
[Illustration: THE WEST GATE, SEOUL]
I left Chemulpo on January 2nd, but instead of making use of the
minuscule ponies, I went on foot, sending my baggage on in advance on a
pack-saddle on one of them. I was still suffering considerably from an
accident I had sustained to my foot among the hairy folk of the Hokkaido,
and I thought that the long walk would probably be beneficial to me, and
would take away some of the stiffness which still remained in my ankle.
At a short distance from the port I came to a steep incline of a few
hundred yards, and crossing the hill-range which formed the background to
Chemulpo as one looks at it from the sea, I soon descended on the other
side, from which point the road was nearly level all the way to the
capital. The road is not a bad one for Corea, but is, of course, only fit
for riding upon; and would be found almost of impossible access to
vehicles of any size. The Japanese had begun running _jinrickshas_,
little carriages drawn by a man, between the capital and the settlements;
but two, and even three men were necessary to convey carriage and
passenger to his destination, and the amount of bumping and shaking on
the uneven road was quite appalling.
These little carriages, as every one knows, generally convey only a
single person, and are drawn by two men, who run in a tandem, while the
third pushes the _ricksha_ from the back, and is always ready at any
emergency to prevent the vehicle from turning turtle. This mode of
locomotion, however, was not likely to become popular among the Coreans,
who, if carried at all, prefer to be carried either in a sedan-chair, an
easy and comfortable way of going about, or else, should they be in a
hurry and not wish to travel in grand style, on pony or donkey's back.
Europeans, as a rule, like the latter mode of travelling best, as the
Corean sedan-chairs are somewhat too short for the long-legged foreigner,
and a journey of six or seven hours in a huddled-up position is
occasionally apt to give one the cramp, especially as Western bones and
limbs do not in general possess the pliability which characterises those
composing the skeleton of our Eastern brothers.
The scenery along the road cannot be called beautiful, the country one
goes through being barren and desolate, with the exception of a certain
plantation of mulberry trees, a wretched speculation into which the
infantile government of Cho-sen was driven by some foreigners, the object
of which was to enrich Corea by the products of silk-worms, but which, of
course, turned out a complete failure, and cost the Government much money
and no end of worry instead. Here and there a small patch might be seen
cultivated as kitchen garden near a hut, but with that exception the
ground was hardly cultivated at all; this monotony of landscape, however,
was somewhat relieved by the distant hills covered with maples, chestnuts
and firs, now unfortunately for the most part deprived of their leaves
and covered with snow, it being the coldest time of the year in Corea.
The mile-posts on the high roads of Cho-sen are rather quaint, and should
you happen to see one for the first time at night the inevitable result
must be nightmare the moment you fall asleep. They consist of a wooden
post about eight feet in length, on the upper end of which a long ghastly
face is rudely carved out of the wood and painted white and red; the eyes
are black and staring, and the mouth, the chief feature of the mask, is
of enormous size, opened, showing two fine rows of pointed teeth, which
might hold their own with those of the sharks of the Torres Strait, of
world-wide reputation. A triangular wedge of wood on each side of the
head represents the ears. The directions, number of miles, &c, are
written directly under the head, and the writing being in Chinese
characters, runs from up to down and from right to left.
It was pretty along the road to see the numerous little ponies,
infinitely smaller than any Shetlands, carrying big fellows, towering
with their padded clothes above enormous saddles, and supported on either
side by a servant, while another man, the _Mapu_, led the steed by hand.
The ponies are so very small that even the Coreans, who are by no means
tall people, their average height being about 5 ft. 4 in., cannot ride
them unless a high saddle is provided, for without these the rather
troublesome process of dragging one's feet on the ground would have to be
endured.
This high saddle, which elevates you some twenty inches above the pony's
back, naturally involves a certain amount of instability to the person
who is mounted, the balancing abilities one has to bring out on such
occasions being of no ordinary degree. The Corean gentleman, who is
dignified to an extreme degree, and would not for the world run the risk
of being seen rolling in the mud or struggling between the pony's little
legs, wisely provides for the emergency by ordering two of his servants
to walk by his side and hold him by the arms and the waist, as long as
the journey lasts, while the _Mapu_, one of the stock features of Corean
everyday life, looks well after the pony and leads him by the head as one
might a big Newfoundland dog. The _Mapu_ in Corea occupies about the same
position as Figaro in the "Barber of Seville." While leading your pony he
takes the keenest interest in your affairs, and thinks it his business to
talk to you on every possible subject that his brain chooses to suggest,
abusing all and everybody that he thinks you dislike and praising up what
he fancies you cherish, that he may perhaps have a few extra _cash_ at
the end of the journey, which he will immediately go and lose in
gambling. He speaks of politics as if he were the axis of the political
world, and will criticise the magistracy, the noble, and the king if he
is under the impression that you are only a merchant, while evil words
enough would be at his command to represent the meanness and bad manners
of the commercial classes, if his pony is honoured by being sat upon by a
nobleman! Such is the world even in Cho-sen. The _Mapu_ will sing to you,
and crack jokes, and again will swear at you and your servants, and at
nearly every _Mapu_ that goes by. The greater the gentleman his beast is
carrying, the more quarrelsome is he with everybody. The road, wide
though it be, seems to belong solely to him. He is in constant trouble
with citizens and the police, and it is generally on account of his
insignificance, poverty, and ignorance that so many of his evil doings
and wrongs are forgiven. None the less it must be said for them that they
take fairly good care of their minuscule quadrupeds. They feed them,
usually three times a day, with boiled chopped straw and beans, and grass
in summer-time, and with this diet you see the little brutes, which are
only about 10 hands high, and even less sometimes, go twenty-five or
thirty miles a day quite easily, with a weight of a couple of hundred
pounds on their backs, quickly toddling along without stopping, unless it
be to administer a sound kick to some bystander or to bite the legs of
the rider. These ponies have a funny little way of getting from under
you, if you ride them with an English saddle. They bend their legs till
they see you firmly planted on the ground, and then quickly withdraw
backwards leaving you, with your legs wide apart and standing like a
fool, to meditate on equine wickedness in the Realm of the Morning Calm.
They are indeed the trickiest little devils for their size I have ever
seen; and for viciousness and love of fighting, I can recommend you to no
steed more capable of showing these qualities. The average price of an
animal as above described varies from the large sum of five shillings to
as much as thirty shillings (at the rate of two shillings per Mexican
dollar), the price of course varying, as with us, according to the breed,
age, training, condition, &c., of the animal.
These ponies are much used all over the kingdom, for good roads for wheel
traffic hardly exist in the country, and wide horse-tracks form
practically the whole means of communication between the capital and the
most important ports and cities in the different provinces of Corea. They
are used both for riding purposes and as pack-ponies, "for light articles
only," like the racks in our railway carriages, but when heavy loads are
to be conveyed from one place to another, especially over long distances,
the frail pony is discarded and replaced by the sturdy ox. These horned
carriers are pretty much of a size, and fashioned, so far as I could see,
after the style of our oxen, except that they are apparently leaner by
nature, and almost always black or very dark grey in colour; their horns,
however, are rather short. They carry huge weights on a wooden angular
saddle which is planted on their backs, and a _Mapu_ invariably
accompanies each animal when loaded; indeed, in the case of the ponies
the man even carries on his own back the food both for himself and for
his beast, the latter generally having the precedence in eating his
share. The sleeping accommodation also is, as a rule, amicably divided
between quadruped and biped, and, taken all round, it cannot be said that
either is any the worse for their brotherly relations. I firmly believe
that the _Mapus_ are infinitely better-natured towards their animals than
towards their wives or their children, who, as you will find by-and-by,
are often cruelly ill-treated.
But let us now continue our journey towards Seoul. Here several coolies
are to be seen approaching us, carrying heavy loads on their backs. A man
of a higher position follows them. And, strange circumstance! they are
carrying money. Yes; one, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight--yes,
actually eight men, bent under heavy loads of coins. Your first idea, I
suppose, will be that these men are carrying a whole fortune--but, oh
dear! no. You must know that the currency in Corea is entirely brass, and
these brass coins, which go by the name of _cash_ are round coins about
the size of a halfpenny, with a square hole in the centre, by which they
are strung together, generally a hundred at a time. There are usually as
many as two thousand to two thousand eight hundred _cash_ to a Mexican
dollar, the equivalent of which is at present about two shillings; you
can, therefore, easily imagine what the weight of one's purse is if it
contains even so small a sum as a pennyworth in Corean currency. Should
you, however, be under an obligation to pay a sum of, say, £10 or £20,
the hire of two oxen or six or eight coolies becomes an absolute
necessity, for a sum which takes no room in one's letter-case if in Bank
of England notes, occupies a roomful of hard and heavy metal in the
country of the Morning Calm. Great trouble has been and is continually
experienced in the kingdom owing to the lack of gold and silver coins;
but to the Corean mind to make coins out of gold and to let them go out
of the country amounts to the same thing as willingly trying to
impoverish the fatherland of the treasures it possesses; wherefore,
although rich gold-mines are to be found in Cho-sen, coins of the
precious metal are not struck for the above-mentioned reason.
[Illustration: COOLIES' ARRANGEMENT FOR CARRYING LOADS]
So much for Corean political economy. The coins used are of different
sizes and value. They range, if I remember right, from two _cash_ to
five, and an examination of a handful of them will reveal the fact that
they have been struck off at different epochs. There is the so-called
current treasure coin of Cho-sen, one of the more modern kinds, as well
as the older coin of Korai, the Ko-ka; while another coin, which seems to
have been struck off in the Eastern provinces, is probably as old as any
of these, and is still occasionally found in use. The coins, as I have
said, are strung together by the hundred on a straw rope; a knot is tied
when this number is reached, when another hundred is passed through, and
so on, until several thousands are sometimes strung to one string. As
curious as this precious load itself was the way in which it was carried.
It is, in fact, the national way which all Corean coolies have adopted
for conveying heavy weights, and it seems to answer well, for I have
often seen men of no very abnormal physique carry a burden that would
make nine out of ten ordinary men collapse under its heavy mass. The
principle is much the same as that used by the porters in Switzerland,
and also in some parts of Holland, if I am not mistaken. A triangular
wooden frame rests on the man's back by means of two straps or ropes
passed over the shoulders and round the arms. From this frame project two
sticks, about 35 inches in length, on which the weight rests, and by
bending the body at a lower or higher angle, according to the height or
pressure of the load, a perfect balance is obtained, and the effort of
the carrier considerably diminished. For heavy loads like wood, for
instance, the process of loading is curious. The frame is set upon the
ground, and made to remain in position by being inclined at an angle of
about 45° against a stick forked at the upper end, with which every
coolie is provided. When in this position, the cargo is put on and tied
with a rope if necessary; then, the stick being carefully removed,
squatting down gently so as not to disturb the position of the load, the
coolie quickly passes his arms through the straps and thus slings the
thing on to the back, the stick being now used as a help to the man to
rise by instalments from his difficult position without collapsing or
coming to grief. Once standing, he is all right, and it is wonderful what
an amount of endurance and muscular strength the beggars have, for they
will carry these enormous loads for miles and miles without showing the
slightest sign of fatigue. They toddle along quickly, taking remarkably
short steps, and resting every now and then on their forked stick, upon
the upper end of which they lay their hands, forcing it against the chest
and the ground, and so making it a sort of _point d'appui._
Just a word as to the coolie's moral qualities. He much resembles in this
the Neapolitan _lazzarone_--in fact, I do not know of any other
individual in Eastern Asia that is such a worthy rival of the Italian
macaroni-eater. The coolie will work hard when hungry, and he will do his
work well, but the moment he is paid off the chances are that, like his
_confrère_ on the Gulf of Naples, he will at once go and drink a good
part of what he has received; then, in a state of intoxication, he will
gamble the next half; and after that he will go to sleep for twenty-four
hours on a stretch, and remain the next twelve squatting on the ground,
basking in the sun by the side of his carrying-machine, pondering, still
half asleep, on his foolishness, and seeking for fresh orders from
passers-by who may require the services of a human beast of burden. Then
you may see them in a row near the road-side drinking huts, either
smoking their pipes, which are nearly three feet in length, or if not in
the act of smoking, with the pipe stuck down their neck into the coat and
down into the trousers, in immediate contact with the skin.
Going along at a good pace I reached the half-way house, a
characteristically Corean building, formerly used as an inn, and now
being rented by a Japanese. Having entertained myself to tea and a few
items of solid food, I proceeded on my pedestrian journey towards the
capital. And now, as I gradually approached the river Han, more attention
seemed to be given to the cultivation of the country. The staple product
of cereals here is mainly buckwheat, beans and millet, a few rice-fields
also being found nearer the water-side. Finally, having arrived at the
river-side, after shouting for half an hour to the ferry boatman to come
and pick me up, I in due course landed on the other side. The river Han
makes a most wonderful detour between its estuary and this point. As the
river was left behind, more habitations in the shape of miserable and
filthy mud-huts, with thatched roofs, became visible; shops of eatables
and native low drinking places following one another in continuation; and
crowds of ponies, people, and oxen showed that the capital was now being
fast neared; and sure enough, after winding along the dirty, narrow road,
lined by the still dirtier mud huts for nearly the whole of the distance
between Mafu, the place where the Han river was ferried, and here, a
distance of about three miles, I found myself at last in front of the
West Gate of the walled city of Seoul.
I could hear quite plainly in the distance, from the centre of the town,
the slow sound of a bell; and men, women and children, on foot or riding,
were scrambling through the gate in both directions. As I stopped for a
moment to gaze upon the excited crowd, it suddenly flashed across my mind
that I had been told at Chemulpo, that to the mournful sound of what is
called the "Big bell" the heavy wooden gates lined with iron bars were
closed, and that no one was thereafter allowed to enter or go out of the
town. The sun was just casting his last glorious rays on the horizon, and
the excitement grew greater as the strokes of the bell became fainter
and fainter, and with the mad crowd of men and beasts mixed together upon
it, the road might be compared with the tide entering the mouth of a
running river. I threw myself into the thick of the in-going flow, and
with my feet trampled upon by passing ponies; now knocking against a
human being, now face to face with a bull, I finally managed to get
inside. Well do I remember the hoarse voices of the gate-keepers, as they
shouted out that time was up, and hurried the weary travellers within the
precincts of the royal city; well also do I recollect, as I stood
watching their doings from the inside, how they pushed back and
ill-treated, with words and kicks, the last people who passed through,
and then, out of patience, revolved the heavy gates on their huge and
rusty hinges, finally closing the city until sunrise next day. Shouts of
people, just too late, on the other side, begging to be let in, remained
unacknowledged, and the enormous padlocks and bolts having been
thoroughly fastened, Seoul was severed from the outer world till the
following morning. Adjoining the gate stood the gatekeeper's house, and
in front of the door of this, a rack with a few rusty and obsolete spears
standing in a row, was left to take care of the town and its inhabitants,
while the guardians, having finished the work of the day, retreated to
the warm room inside to resume the game or gambling which the setting sun
had interrupted, and which had occupied their day. With the setting of
the sun every noise ceased. Every good citizen retired to his home, and
I, too, therefore, deemed it advisable to follow suit.
There are no hotels in Seoul, with the exception of the very dirty
Corean inns; but I was fortunate enough to meet at Chemulpo a Russian
gentleman who, with his family, lived in Seoul, where he was employed as
architect to His Majesty the King of Corea, and he most politely invited
me to stay at his house for a few days; and it is to his kind
hospitality, therefore, that I owe the fact that my first few nights at
Seoul were spent comfortably and my days were well employed, my
peregrinations round the town being also conducted under his guidance.