The Coreans--Their faces and heads--Bachelors--Married
men--Head-band--Hats--Hat-umbrellas--Clothes--Spectacles.
Being now settled for the time being in Seoul, I must introduce you to
the Corean, not as a nation, you must understand, but as an individual.
It is a prevalent idea that the Coreans are Chinese, and therefore
exactly like them in physique and appearance, and, if not like the
Chinese, that they must be like their neighbours on the other side--the
Japanese. As a matter of fact, they are like neither. Naturally the
continuous incursions of both Chinese and Japanese into this country have
left distinct traces of their passage on the general appearance of the
people; and, of course, the distinction which I shall endeavour to make
is not so marked as that between whites and blacks, for the Coreans,
speaking generally, do bear a certain resemblance to the other peoples of
Mongolian origin. Though belonging to this family, however, they form a
perfectly distinct branch of it. Not only that, but when you notice a
crowd of Coreans you will be amazed to see among them people almost as
white and with features closely approaching the Aryan, these being the
higher classes in the kingdom. The more common type is the yellow-skinned
face, with slanting eyes, high cheek-bones, and thick, hanging lips.
But, again, you will observe faces much resembling the Thibetans and
Hindoos, and if you carry your observations still further you will find
all over the kingdom, mostly among the coolie classes, men as black as
Africans, or like the people of Asia Minor.
For any one interested in types and crosses, I really do not know of a
country more interesting than Cho-sen. It seems as if specimens of almost
every race populating Asia had reached and remained in the small
peninsula, which fact would to some degree disprove the theory that all
migrations have moved from the east towards the west and from north to
south, and never _vice versâ_.
If you take the royal family of Corea, for instance, you will find that
the king and queen, and all the royal princes, especially on the queen's
side (the Min family), are as white as any Caucasian, and that their eyes
are hardly slanting at all, and in some cases are quite as straight as
ours. Members of some of the nobler families also might be taken for
Europeans. Of course the middle classes are of the Mongolian type, though
somewhat more refined and stronger built than the usual specimens of
either Chinese or Japanese; they are, however, not quite so wiry and tall
as their northern neighbours the Manchus, with whom, nevertheless, they
have many points in common. The large invasions, as we have seen, of the
Ko-korais and Fuyus may account for this.
[Illustration: A BACHELOR]
Taken altogether, the Corean is a fine-looking fellow; his face is
oval-shaped, and generally long when seen full face, but it is slightly
concave in profile, the nose being somewhat flat at the bridge between
the eyes, and possessing wide nostrils. The chin is generally small,
narrow and receding, while the lips, usually the weaker part in the
Corean face, are as a rule heavy, the upper lip turned up and showing the
teeth, while the lower one hangs pitifully downwards, denoting,
therefore, little or no strength of character. They possess good teeth
and these are beautifully white, which is a blessing for people like them
who continually show them. The almond-shaped, jet-black eyes, veiled by
that curious weird look peculiar to Eastern eyes, is probably the
redeeming part of their face, and in them is depicted good-nature, pride
and softness of heart. In many cases one sees a shrewd, quick eye, but it
is generally an exception among this type, while among the lower
classes, the black ones, it is almost a chief characteristic. The
cheek-bones are prominent. The hair is scanty on the cheeks, chin, and
over and under the lips, but quite luxuriant on the head. There is a very
curious custom in Corea as to how you should wear your hair, and a great
deal of importance is attached to the custom. If by chance you are a
bachelor--and if you are, you must put up with being looked down upon by
everybody in Corea--you have to let your hair grow long, part it
carefully in the middle of your skull, and have it made up into a thick
tress at the back of your head, which arrangement marks you out as a
single man and an object of sport, for in the Land of the Morning Calm it
seems that you can only be a bachelor under the two very circumstances
under which we, in our land of all-day restlessness, generally marry,
viz., if you are a fool and if you have not a penny to live upon! When
thus unhappily placed you rank, according to Corean ideas, as a child, no
matter what your age is, and you dress as a child, being even allowed to
wear coloured coats when the country is in mourning, as it was, when I
visited it, for the death of the dowager-Queen Regent, and everybody is
compelled to wear white, an order that if not quickly obeyed by a married
man means probably to him the loss of his head. Thus, though looked down
upon as outcasts and wretches, bachelors none the less do enjoy some
privileges out there. Here is yet another one. They never wear a hat;
another exemption to be taken into consideration when you will see, a
little further on, what a Corean hat is like.
[Illustration: THE "TOP-KNOT" OF THE MARRIED MEN]
Married men, on the other hand--and ninety-nine per hundred are married
in Cho-sen--wear their hair done up in a most wonderful fashion. It is
not as long as that of bachelors, for it is cut. It is combed, with the
head down, in the orthodox fashion, as women do, I suppose, when they
comb it by themselves, and then passing the left hand under it, along the
forehead, it is caught close to the head just about the middle of the
skull. This being satisfactorily done, what remains of the hair above the
hand is twisted round into the shape and size of a sausage, which then
remains sticking up perpendicularly on the top of the head, and which, in
the natural order of things, goes by the sensible name of top-knot.
Occasionally a little silver or metal bead is attached to the top of the
knot, and a small tortoiseshell ornament fastened to the hair just over
the forehead. This completes the married man's hair-dressing, with which
he is always most careful, and I must say that the black straight hair
thus arranged does set off the head very well. The illustration shows the
profile of a married man of the coolie class, who, of course, wears the
hair dressed just like the others, it being a national custom; only the
richer and smarter people, of course, wear it more tidily, and, probably,
not quite so artistically. Besides, the better class of people are not
content with the process of beautifying themselves which I have just
described, but surround the forehead, temples and back of the head with a
head-band, a curious arrangement made of woven black horse-hair, which
keeps the real hair tight under it, and not only prevents it from being
blown about, but forms a more solid basis for the wonderful hats they
wear. The nobler classes, upon whom the king has bestowed decorations in
the shape of jade, gold or silver buttons, according to the amount of
honour he has meant to accord them, wear these decorations, of all
places, behind the ears, and fastened tight to the head-band.
Thus much on the subject of the Corean's head. I shall spare you, my dear
readers, the description of his body, for it is just like any other body,
more or less well made, with the exception that it is invariably
unwashed. Instead, I shall proceed to inspect with you his wardrobe and
his clothing, which may be to you, I hope, much more interesting. To do
this, let us walk along the main street of the town, where the traffic is
generally great, and examine the people who go by. Here is a well-to-do
man, probably a merchant. Two features at once strike you: his hat, the
_kat-si_, and his shoes; and then, his funny white padded clothes. But
let us examine him carefully in detail. It is a little difficult to
decide at which end one should begin to describe him, but I imagine that
it is the customary thing to begin with the head, and so, coming close to
him, let us note how curiously his hat is made. It is just like a
Welshwoman's hat in shape, or, in other words, like a flowerpot placed on
a flat dish, as seen in the illustration; but the extraordinary thing
about the Corean hat is that it is quite transparent, and has none of the
virtues that, according to our ideas, a hat ought to possess. It is a
wonderful work of art, for it is made of horse-hair, or, more commonly,
of split bamboo so finely cut in threads as to resemble white horse-hair,
and then woven into a fine net in the shape described. A thin bamboo
frame keeps it well together, and gives to it a certain solidity, but
though varnished over, it protects one's head from neither sun, wind, nor
rain. It is considered a rude thing in Corea to take one's hat off, even
in the house, and therefore the _kat-si_, not requiring instant removal
or putting on, is provided with two hooks at the sides of the central
cone, to each of which a white ribbon is attached, to be tied under the
chin when the hat is worn, the latter resting, not on the hair itself,
but on the head-band. This shape of hat is never worn without the
head-band.
The hat just described is that most commonly worn in the Land of the
Morning Calm, and that which one sees on the generality of people. But
there! look at that man passing along leading a bull--he has a hat large
enough to protect a whole family. It is like a huge pyramid made of
basket-work of split bamboo or plaited reeds or rushes, and it covers him
almost half way down to his waist. Well, that poor man is in private
mourning for the death of a relation, and he covers his face thus to show
his grief.
[Illustration: THE HEAD-BAND AND TRANSPARENT HAT]
Here, again, comes another individual with a transparent hat like the
first, only worn over a big hood open at the top over the head and
falling rounded over the shoulders, thus protecting the ears from the
severe cold. This is lined with fur, with which it is also trimmed, and
looks quite furry and warm, if not exactly becoming. Ah! but here is
something even more curious in the shape of head-gear. It is just
beginning to snow, and, one after the other, our transparent _kat-sis_
are undergoing a transformation. I daresay, as we stand watching the
people go by, it will be noticed that nearly each one who has a
transparent hat, also wears in his girdle round his waist a triangular
object made of yellow oil-paper which resembles a fan. Well, now, you
will see what it is. An oldish man turns up his nose to scrutinise the
intentions of the weather-clerk, and, apparently little satisfied at the
aspect of the threatening clouds, stops, and unsheathing his fan-like
object from his belt, opens it, when it is seen to become like a small
umbrella without the stick and handle, about two and a half feet only in
diameter, which, by means of a string, he fastens over his brand new hat.
When thus used, it takes the shape of a cone, except, of course, that
there will be a multitude of folds in it. It is called _kat-no_. The idea
is not at all bad, is it? for here you have an umbrella without the
trouble of tiring your arms in carrying it.
One cannot help being considerably puzzled by the differences in the
various classes and conditions of the men. To all appearance, the
generality of men seem here dressed alike, with this difference, that
some are dirtier than others; occasionally one has an extra garment, but
that is all. Yes, there is, indeed, difficulty at first in knowing who
and what any one is, but with a little trouble and practice the
difficulty is soon overcome. In the main the clothes worn by the men are
the same, only a great difference is to be found in the way these
garments are cut and sewn, just as we can distinguish in a moment the cut
of a Bond Street tailor from that of a suburban one. In Corea, the
tailor, as a rule, is one's wife, for she is the person entrusted with
the cares of cutting, sewing, and padding up her better-half's attire. No
wonder, then, that nine-tenths of the top-knotted consorts look regular
bags as they walk about. The national costume itself, it must be
confessed, does rather tend to deform the appearance of the human body,
which it is supposed to adorn. First, there is a huge pair of cotton
trousers, through each leg of which one can pass the whole of one's body
easily, and these trousers are padded all over with cotton wool, no
underclothing being worn. When these are put on, they reach from the chin
to the feet, on to which they fall in ample and graceful folds, and you
don them by holding them up with your teeth, and fastening them anywhere
near and round your waist with a pretty, long silk ribbon with tassels,
which is generally let hang down artistically over the right side. When
this has been successfully accomplished, the extra length of trousers is
rolled up so as to prevent the "unmentionables" from being left behind as
you walk away, and a short coat, tight at the shoulders and in the shape
of a bell, with short but wide sleeves, is put on to cover the upper part
of the body. This coat also, like the trousers, is padded, and reaches
almost to the haunches. It overlaps on the right hand side, two long
ribbons being tied there into a pretty single-winged knot and the two
ends left hanging. In winter time, the forearm, which in summer remains
bare, is protected by a separate short muff, or sleeve, through which the
hand is passed, and which reaches just over the elbow.
Then come the padded socks, in which the huge trousers are tucked, and
which are fastened round the ankle with a ribbon. And, lastly, now we
come to the shoes. Those used by the better classes are made of hide, and
have either leather soles with nails underneath, or else wooden soles
like the Chinese ones with the turned-up toes. The real Corean shoe,
however, as used every day for walking and not for show, is truly a
peculiar one. The principal peculiarity about it is that it is made of
paper; which sounds like a lie, though indeed it is not. Another
extraordinary thing is that you can really walk in them. If you do not
believe it, all you have to do is to take the first steamer to Corea and
you can easily convince yourself of the fact. The greater part of the
population wears them, and the _Mapus_ especially walk enormous distances
in them. They are scarcely real shoes, however, and one should, perhaps,
classify them rather as a cross between a shoe and a sandal, for that is
just what they are. The toes are protected by numberless little strings
of curled untearable paper, which, when webbed, make the sole, heel, and
back of the sandal, and this is joined to the point of the shoe by a
stouter cord going right round, which is also made of the same kind of
twisted paper. This cord can be fastened tighter or looser to suit the
convenience of the wearer of the sandal-shoe.
The Corean is an unfortunate being. He has no pockets. If his hands are
cold he must warm them by sticking them down his belt into his trousers,
and if he be in company with people, he can generate a certain amount of
heat by putting each into the other arm's sleeve. As for the money,
tobacco, &c, that he wants to carry, he is compelled to provide himself
with little silk bags, which he attaches to his waist-band or to the
ribbon of his coat. These bags are generally of orange colour or blue,
and they relieve a little the monotony of the everlasting white dresses.
The clothing, so far as I have described it, is, with the exception of
the shoes, that which is worn habitually in the house by the better
classes of the people; the officials, however, wear a horse-hair high cap
resembling a papal tiara on the head, instead of the other form of hat.
Indoors, the shoes are not worn, the custom of Japan being prevalent,
namely, to leave them at the door as one mounts the first step into the
room. The middle lower classes and peasantry are seldom found parading
the streets with anything besides what I have described, with the
exception of the long pipe which they, like the _Mapu_ or the coolies,
keep down the back of the neck when not using it. Merchants, policemen,
and private gentlemen are arrayed, in winter especially, in a long cotton
or silk gown similarly padded, an overall which reaches below the knees,
and some, especially those in the Government employ, or in some official
position, wear either without this or over this an additional sleeveless
garment made of four long strips of cotton or silk, two in front and two
at the back, according to the grade, almost touching the feet and divided
both in front and at the back as far up as the waist, round which a
ribbon is tied. This, then, is the everyday wardrobe of a Corean of any
class. You may add, if you please, a few miscellaneous articles such as
gaiters and extra bags, but never have I seen any man of Cho-sen walk
about with more habiliments than these, although I have many times seen
people who had a great deal less. The clothes are of cotton or silk
according to the grade and riches of the wearer. Buttons are a useless
luxury in Cho-sen, for neither men nor women recognise their utility; on
the contrary, the natives display much amusement and chaff at the stupid
foreign barbarian who goes and cuts any number of buttonholes in the
finest clothing, which, in their idea, is an incomprehensible mistake and
shows want of appreciation.
Their method of managing things by means of loops and ribbons, has an
effect which is not without its picturesqueness, perhaps more so than is
our system of "keeping things together" in clothing matters. After all it
is only a matter of opinion. The inhabitants of the land of Cho-sen, from
my experience, are not much given to washing and still less to bathing. I
have seen them wash their hands fairly often, and the face occasionally;
only the very select people of Corea wash it daily. One would think that,
with such a very scanty and irregular use of water for the purpose of
cleanliness, they should look extremely dirty; but not a bit. It was
always to me irritating to the last degree to see how clean those dirty
people looked!
But let us notice one or two more of the people that are passing by. It
is now snowing hard, and every one carries his own umbrella on his head.
Boys do not wear hats, and are provided with a large umbrella with a
bamboo-frame that fits the head, as also are the bachelors. Here comes
one of the latter class. His face is a finely cut one, and with his hair
parted in the middle, and the big tress hanging down his back, he has
indeed more the appearance of a woman than that of a man; hence the
mistake often made by hasty travellers in putting down these bachelors as
women, is easy to understand. When one is seen for the first time, it is
really difficult to say to which sex he belongs, so effeminate does he
look.
It is part of the ambition of the male Corean to look wise, no matter
whether he is or not as a matter of fact. And to assume the coveted air
of wisdom what more is necessary than to put on a huge pair of round
spectacles of Chinese origin with smoked glasses enclosed in a frame of
gold or tortoiseshell, and with clasps over the ears? Oh how wise he
looks! He does indeed! And you should see his pomposity as he rides his
humble donkey through the streets of Seoul. There he sits like a statue,
supported by his servants, looking neither to one side nor to the other,
lest he should lose his dignity.
"Era, Era, Era!" ("Make way, Make way!") cry out the servants as he
passes among the crowd, which is invariably respectful and ready to obey
this hero who looks down upon them. The lesser the official, of course
the greater the air, and you should see how the people who stand in the
way are knocked to one side by his servants, should they not be quick
enough to make room for the dignitary and his donkey. His long gown is
carefully arranged on the sides and behind, covering the saddle and
donkey's back in large folds; for most things in Corea, as in other parts
of the world, are done for the sake of appearance. What a dreadful thing
it would be, were he to ride about with his gown crumpled up under his
seat! It would be the cause of lifelong unhappiness, remorse and shame,
and no doubt cost his servants a sound flogging for their unpardonable
carelessness.