CHAPTER XXXV

THE INVASION OF KOREA

CAUSES

HAVING brought the whole of Japan under his control, Hideyoshi

conceived the project of conquering China. That appears to be the

simplest explanation of his action. His motive, however, has been

variously interpreted. Some historians maintain that his prime

purpose was to find occupation for the vast host of soldiers who had

been called into existence in Japan by four centuries of almost

continuous warfare. Others do not hesitate to allege that this

oversea campaign was designed for the purpose of assisting to

exterminate the Christian converts. Others, again, attempt to prove

that personal ambition was Hideyoshi's sole incentive. It does not

seem necessary to estimate the relative truth of these analyses,

especially as the evidence adduced by their several supporters is

more or less conjectural. As to the idea that Hideyoshi was

influenced by anti-Christian sentiment, it is sufficient to observe

that out of nearly a quarter of a million of Japanese soldiers who

landed in Korea during the course of the campaign, not so much as ten

per cent, were Christians, and with regard to the question of

personal ambition, it may be conceded at once that if Hideyoshi's

character lays him open to such a charge, his well-proven statecraft

exonerates him from any suspicion of having acted without thought for

his country's good.

One fact which does not seem to have been sufficiently considered by

annalists is that during the sixteenth century the taste for foreign

adventure had grown largely in Japan. Many persons had gone abroad in

quest of fortune and had found it. It is on record that emigrants

from the province of Hizen had established themselves in considerable

numbers in China, and that their success induced their feudal lord,

Nabeshima, to seek the Central Government's permission for returning

his province to the latter and taking, in lieu, the district near

Ningpo, where his vassals had settled. Hideyoshi doubtless shared the

general belief that in oversea countries Japanese enterprise could

find many profitable opportunities, and it is easy to believe that

the weakened condition of China towards the close of the Ming dynasty

led him to form a not very flattering estimate of that country's

power of resistance.

The conquest of Korea had not in itself any special temptation. He

regarded the peninsula simply as a basis for an attack upon China,

and he made it quite clear to the Korean sovereign that, if the

latter suffered his territories to be converted into a stepping-stone

for that purpose, friendship with Japan might be confidently

anticipated. Korea, at that time, was under the sway of a single

ruler, whose dynasty enjoyed the protection of the Chinese Court, and

between the two sovereigns embassies were regularly exchanged. It has

already been stated in these pages that towards the middle of the

fifteenth century Japanese settlers in Korea had been assigned three

places of residence, but owing to the exactions suffered at the hands

of the local authorities, these settlers had risen in revolt and had

finally been expelled from Korea until the year 1572, when a

concession was once more set apart for Japanese use at Fusan. No

longer, however, were envoys sent from Korea to Japan, and evidence

of the outrages committed from time to time by Japanese pirates is

furnished by a decree of the Korean Government that a Japanese

subject landing anywhere except at Fusan would be treated as a

corsair.

Such were the existing conditions when, in 1587, Hideyoshi called

upon the Korean monarch to explain the cessation of the old-time

custom of exchanging envoys. To this the King of Korea replied that

he would willingly renew the ancient relations provided that the

Japanese authorities seized and handed over a number of Korean

renegades, who had been acting as guides to Japanese pirates in

descents on the Korean coast. This stipulation having been complied

with, a Korean embassy was duly despatched by Kyoto, and after some

delay its members were received by Hideyoshi in the hall of audience.

What happened on this occasion is described in Korean annals,

translated as follows by Mr. Aston*:

*Hideyoshi's Invasion of Korea, by Aston. "Transactions of the

Asiatic Society of Japan," Vol. VI.

The ambassadors were allowed to enter the palace gate borne in their

palanquins. They were preceded the whole way by a band of music. They

ascended into the hall, where they performed their obeisances.

Hideyoshi is a mean and ignoble-looking man; his complexion is dark,

and his features are wanting in distinction. But his eyeballs send

out fire in flashes--enough to pierce one through. He sat upon a

threefold cushion with his face to the south. He wore a gauze hat and

a dark-coloured robe of State. His officers were ranged round him,

each in his proper place. When the ambassadors were introduced and

had taken their seats, the refreshments offered them were of the most

frugal description. A tray was set before each, on which was one dish

containing steamed mochi (rice-cake), and sake of an inferior quality

was handed round a few times in earthenware cups and in a very

unceremonious way. The civility of drinking to one another was not

observed.

After a short interval, Hideyoshi retired behind a curtain, but all

his officers remained in their places. Soon after, a man came out

dressed in ordinary clothes, with a baby in his arms, and strolled

about the hall. This was no other than Hideyoshi himself, and

everyone present bowed down his head to the ground. Looking out

between the pillars of the hall, Hideyoshi espied the Korean

musicians. He commanded them to strike up all together as loud as

they could, and was listening to their music when he was reminded

that babies could despise ceremonies as much as princes, and

laughingly called one of his attendants to take the child and bring

him a change of clothing. He seemed to do exactly as he pleased, and

was as unconcerned as if nobody else were present. The ambassadors,

having made their obeisance, retired, and this audience was the only

occasion on which they were admitted to Hideyoshi's presence.

After long delay Hideyoshi replied to the letter carried by the above

envoys, and his language is important as clearly indicating the part

which he designed for Korea in the pending war. The document is thus

translated by Mr. Aston:

This empire has of late years been brought to ruin by internal

dissensions which allowed no opportunity for laying aside armour.

This state of things roused me to indignation, and in a few years I

restored peace to the country. I am the only remaining scion of a

humble stock, but my mother once had a dream in which she saw the sun

enter her bosom, after which she gave birth to me. There was then a

soothsayer who said: "Wherever the sun shines, there will be no place

which shall not be subject to him. It may not be doubted that one day

his power will overspread the empire." It has therefore been my boast

to lose no favourable opportunity, and taking wings like a dragon, I

have subdued the east, chastised the west, punished the south, and

smitten the north. Speedy and great success has attended my career,

which has been like the rising sun illuminating the whole earth.

When I reflect that the life of man is less than one hundred years,

why should I spend my days in sorrow for one thing only? I will

assemble a mighty host, and, invading the country of the great Ming,

I will fill with the hoar-frost from my sword the whole sky over the

four hundred provinces. Should I carry out this purpose, I hope that

Korea will be my vanguard. Let her not fail to do so, for my

friendship with your honourable country depends solely on your

conduct when I lead my army against China.

The Korean envoys entrusted with the delivery of the above despatch

were accompanied by one of the chief vassals of the Tsushima baron,

and a monk, named Genso, who acted in the capacity of interpreter. By

these two Japanese the Korean Government was clearly informed that

nothing was required of Korea beyond throwing open the roads to

China, and that she would not be asked to give any other assistance

whatever in the war against her northern neighbour. In the context of

this explanation, the Seoul Government was reminded that, three

centuries previously, Korea had permitted her territory to be made a

basis of Mongolian operations against Japan, and therefore the

peninsula might well allow itself to be now used as a basis of

Japanese operations against China. From Korean annals we learn that

the following despatch was ultimately sent by the Korean sovereign to

Hideyoshi*:

*Hulbert's History of Korea.

Two letters have already passed between us, and the matter has been

sufficiently discussed. What talk is this of our joining you against

China? From the earliest times we have followed law and right. From

within and from without all lands are subject to China. If you have

desired to send your envoys to China, how much more should we? When

we have been unfortunate she has helped us. The relations which

subsist between us are those of parent and child. This you know well.

Can we desert both Emperor and parent and join with you? You

doubtless will be angry at this, and it is because you have not been

admitted to the Court of China. Why is it that you are not willing to

admit the suzerainty of the Emperor, instead of harbouring such

hostile intents against him? This truly passes our comprehension.

The bitterness of this language was intensified by a comment made to

the Japanese envoys when handing them the above despatch. His Majesty

said that Japan's programme of conquering China resembled an attempt

to bail out the ocean with a cockle-shell. From Korea's point of view

her attitude was perfectly justifiable. The dynasty by which the

peninsula was then ruled owed its very existence to China's aid, and

during two centuries the peninsula had enjoyed peace and a certain

measure of prosperity under that dynasty. On the other hand, Korea

was not in a position to think of resisting Japan on the

battle-field. The only army which the former could boast of

possessing consisted of men who were too indigent to purchase

exemption from service with the colours, and thus she may be said to

have been practically without any efficient military organization.

Moreover, her troops were not equipped with either artillery or

match-locks. The only advantage which she possessed may be said to

have been exceedingly difficult topographical features, which were

practically unknown to the Japanese. Japan had not at that time even

the elements of the organization which she was ultimately destined to

carry to such a high point of perfection. She had no secret-service

agents or any cartographers to furnish her generals with information

essential to the success of an invasion, and from the moment that her

troops landed in Korea, their environment would be absolutely

strange.

JAPAN'S PREPARATIONS

These considerations did not, however, deter Hideyoshi. Immediately

on receipt of the above despatch from the Korean Court, preparations

were commenced for an oversea expedition on a colossal scale. Nagoya,

in the province of Hizen, was chosen for the home-basis of

operations. It has been observed by several critics that if

Hideyoshi, instead of moving by Korea, had struck at China direct

oversea, he would in all probability have seen his flag waving over

Peking in a few months, and the whole history of the Orient would

have been altered. That may possibly be true. But we have to remember

that the Korean peninsula lies almost within sight of the shores of

Japan, whereas to reach China direct by water involves a voyage of

several hundred miles over seas proverbially tempestuous and

dangerous. Even in modern times, when maritime transport has been so

greatly developed, a general might well hesitate between the choice

of the Korean and the ocean routes to China from Japan, were he

required to make a choice. In the face of the certainty of Korean

hostility, however, Hideyoshi's selection was certainly open to

criticism. Nevertheless, the event showed that he did not err in his

calculations so far as the operations on shore were concerned.

He himself remained in Japan throughout the whole war. He went to

Nagoya towards the close of 1592 and stayed there until the beginning

of 1594, and it was generally understood that he intended ultimately

to assume direct command of the oversea armies. In fact, at a council

held to consider this matter, he proposed to cross the water at the

head of one hundred and fifty thousand men, handing over the

administration of affairs in Japan to Ieyasu. On that occasion, one

of his most trusted followers, Asano Nagamasa, provoked a violent

outburst of temper on Hideyoshi's part by declaring that such a

scheme would be an act of lunacy, since Hideyoshi's presence alone

secured the empire against recurrence of domestic strife. The annals

are not very clear at this point, but everything seems to indicate

that Hideyoshi's purpose of leading the armies in person would have

been carried into practice had it not become certain that the

invasion of China would have to be abandoned. The time and the manner

in which this failure became clear will be seen as we proceed.

CONDITIONS FROM THE INVADER'S POINT OF VIEW

The sea which separates Japan from the Korean peninsula narrows on

the south to a strait divided by the island of Tsushima into two

channels of nearly equal width. Tsushima had, for centuries, been the

Japanese outpost in this part of the empire. To reach the island from

the Japanese side was always an easy and safe task, but in the

fifty-six-mile channel that separates Tsushima from the peninsula of

Korea an invading flotilla had to run the risk of an attack by Korean

warships.* The army assembled at Nagoya totalled over three hundred

thousand men, whereof some seventy thousand constituted the first

fighting line and eighty-seven thousand the second, the remainder

forming a reserve to meet contingencies. The question of maritime

transport presented some difficulty, but was solved by the expedient

of ordering each maritime feudatory to furnish two large ships for

every hundred thousand koku of the fief's assessment, and their crews

were obtained by compelling each fishing village to furnish ten

sailors for every hundred houses it contained. These were not

fighting vessels but mere transports. Fighting men to the number of

ninety-two hundred were, however, distributed among the ships, and

were armed with match-locks, bows, and swords. The problem of

commissariat was very formidable. This part of the enterprise was

entrusted solely to Asano Nagamasa, minister of Justice, one of the

five bugyo,--that is to say, five officials called administrators, in

whose intelligence and competence Hideyoshi placed signal reliance.

In the records of the Asano family it is stated that an immense

quantity of rice was shipped at the outset, but that on landing in

Korea the army found ample supplies of grain in every castle

throughout the peninsula. Nevertheless, the problem of provisions

ultimately became exceedingly difficult, as might well have been

predicted.

*See the Encyclopedia Britannica, 11th edition; article "Japan," by

Brinkley.

PLAN OF CAMPAIGN

As for the plan of campaign, it was precisely in accord with the

principles of modern strategy. The van, consisting of three army

corps, was to cross rapidly to Fusan on the south coast of the

peninsula, whence a movement northward, towards the capital, Seoul,

was to be immediately commenced, one corps marching by the eastern

coast-road, one by the central route, and one by the western.

"Thereafter the other four corps, which formed the first fighting

line, together with the corps under the direct orders of the

commander-in-chief, Ukita Hideiye, were to cross for the purpose of

effectually subduing the regions through which the van had passed;

and, finally, the two remaining corps of the second line were to be

transported by sea up the west coast of the peninsula, to form a

junction with the van which, by that time, should be preparing to

pass into China over the northern boundary of Korea, namely, the Yalu

River. For the landing-place of these re-enforcements the town of

Pyong-yang was adopted, being easily accessible by the Tadong River

from the coast. In later ages, Japanese armies were destined to move

twice over these same regions, once to the invasion of China [in

1894], once to the attack of Russia [in 1904], and they adopted

almost the same strategical plan as that mapped out by Hideyoshi in

the year 1592. The forecast was that the Koreans would offer their

chief resistance, first, at the capital, Seoul; next at Pyong-yang,

and finally at the Yalu, as the approaches to all these places

constituted positions capable of being utilized to great advantage

for defensive purposes."*

*Encyclopaedia Britannica, 11th edition; article "Japan," by

Brinkley.

THE MARCH TO SEOUL

On the 24th of May, 1592, the first army corps (18,700 men), under

the command of Konishi Yukinaga, crossed unmolested to the peninsula.

So little did the Koreans anticipate an invasion that the earliest

intelligence they had of the advent of the invaders was furnished by

the commandant of Fusan, who happened that day to be hunting on Deer

Island at the entrance to the harbour, and who sighted the approach

of the hostile flotilla. On the 25th, Konishi's troops carried the

castle of Fusan by storm, after a brave resistance by the garrison,

and, on the 27th, the same fate befell another and stronger fortress

lying three miles inland and garrisoned by twenty thousand picked

soldiers. Four days after the landing of Konishi's army, the second

corps (20,800 strong), under Kato Kiyomasa, reached Fusan, and

immediately took the east-coast road, according to the programme of

campaign.

Thenceforth, however, it was really a race between the two armies as

to which should form the van. At the pass of Cho-ryung a reunion was

effected. This position offered exceptional facilities for defence,

but owing to some unexplained reason no attempt was made by the

Koreans to hold it. A few miles further north stood a castle reckoned

the strongest fortress in the peninsula. Konishi and Kato continued

the combination of their forces as they approached this position,

but, contrary to expectation, the Koreans fought in the open and the

castle fell without difficulty. Thereafter, the two corps separated,

Kato taking the westerly road and Konishi the direct route to Seoul.

In short, although the two generals have been accused of crippling

themselves by jealous competition, the facts indicate that they

co-operated effectively as far as the river Imjin, where a strenuous

effort to check them was expected to be made by the Koreans.

From the landing place at Fusan to the gates of Seoul the distance is

267 miles. Konishi's corps covered that interval in nineteen days,

storming two forts, carrying two positions, and fighting one pitched

battle on the way. Kato's corps, travelling by a circuitous and more

arduous road but not meeting with so much resistance, traversed the

distance between Fusan and the capital in four days less. At Seoul,

with its thirty thousand battlements and three times as many

embrasures, requiring a garrison ninety thousand strong, only seven

thousand were available, and nothing offered except flight, a course

which the Royal Court adopted without hesitation, leaving the city to

be looted and partially destroyed, not by the Japanese invaders but

by the Korean inhabitants themselves.

The King did not halt until he had placed the Imjin River between

himself and the enemy. Moreover, as soon as he there received news of

the sack of the city, he renewed his flight northward and took up his

quarters at Pyong-yang. It was on the 12th of June that the Korean

capital fell, and by the 16th four army corps had assembled there,

while four others had effected a landing at Fusan. After a rest of

fifteen days, the northern advance was resumed from Seoul, with the

expectation that a great struggle would take place on the banks of

the Imjin. The conditions were eminently favourable for defence,

inasmuch as the approach to the river from the south was only by one

narrow gulch, whereas, on the northern side, lay a long, sandy

stretch where troops could easily be deployed. Moreover the Japanese

had no boats wherewith to negotiate a broad and swiftly flowing

river. During ten days the invaders remained helpless on the southern

bank. Then the Koreans allowed themselves to be betrayed by the

common device of a simulated retreat. They crossed in exultant

pursuit, only to find that they had been trapped into an ambush.

Konishi and Kato now again separated, the former continuing the

direct advance northward, and the latter taking the northeastern

route, which he ultimately followed along the whole of the coast as

far as Kyong-sang, whence he turned inland and finally reached

Hai-ryong, a place destined to acquire much importance in modern

times as the point of junction of the Kilin-Korean railways.

The distance from Seoul to Pyong-yang on the Tadong is 130 miles, and

it was traversed by the Japanese in eighteen days, ten of which had

been occupied in forcing the passage of the Imjin. On the southern

bank of the Tadong, the invaders found themselves in a position even

more difficult than that which had confronted them at the Imjin. They

had to pass a wide rapid river with a walled city of great strength

on its northern bank and with all the boats in the possession of the

Korean garrison, which was believed to be very numerous. Some

parleying took place, and the issue of the situation seemed very

doubtful when the Koreans lost patience and crossed the river, hoping

to destroy the Japanese by a night attack. They miscalculated the

time required for this operation, and daylight compelled them to

abandon the enterprise when its only result had been to disclose to

the invaders the whereabouts of the fords. Then ensued a disorderly

retreat on the part of the Koreans, and there being no time for the

latter to fire the town, storehouses full of grain fell into the

hands of the invaders. The Korean Court resumed its flight as far as

Wi-ju, a few miles south of the Yalu River, whence messengers were

sent to China to solicit succour.

THE COMMAND OF THE SEA

Thus far, everything had marched in perfect accord with the Japanese

programme. A force of nearly two hundred thousand men had been

carried over the sea and had overrun practically the whole of Korea.

"At this point, however, the invasion suffered a check owing to a

cause which in modern times has received much attention, though in

Hideyoshi's days it had been little considered; the Japanese lost the

command of the sea. The Japanese idea of sea fighting in those times

was to use open boats propelled chiefly by oars. They closed as

quickly as possible with the enemy and then fell on with the

trenchant swords which they used so skilfully. Now, during the

fifteenth century and part of the sixteenth, the Chinese had been so

harassed by Japanese piratical raids that their inventive genius,

quickened by suffering, suggested a device for coping with these

formidable adversaries. Once allow the Japanese swordsman to come to

close quarters and he carried all before him. To keep him at a

distance, then, was the great desideratum, and the Chinese compassed

this in maritime warfare by completely covering their boats with

roofs of solid timber, so that those within were protected against

missiles or other weapons, while loop-holes and ports enabled them to

pour bullets and arrows on a foe.

"The Koreans learned this device from the Chinese and were the first

to employ it in actual warfare. Their own history alleges that they

improved upon the Chinese model by nailing sheet iron over the roofs

and sides of the 'turtle-shell' craft and studding the whole surface

with chevaux de frise, but Japanese annals indicate that in the great

majority of cases timber alone was used. It seems strange that the

Japanese should have been without any clear perception of the immense

fighting superiority possessed by such protected war-vessels over

small open boats. But certainly they were either ignorant or

indifferent. The fleet which they provided to hold the command of

Korean waters did not include one vessel of any magnitude; it

consisted simply of some hundreds of row-boats manned by seven

thousand men. Hideyoshi himself was perhaps not without misgivings.

Six years previously, he had endeavoured to obtain two war-galleons

from the Portuguese, and had he succeeded, the history of the Far

East might have been radically different. Evidently, however, he

committed a blunder which his countrymen in modern times have

conspicuously avoided; he drew the sword without having fully

investigated his adversary's resources.

"Just about the time when the van of the Japanese army was entering

Seoul, the Korean admiral, Yi Sun-sin, at the head of a fleet of

eighty vessels, attacked the Japanese squadron which lay at anchor

near the entrance to Fusan harbour, set twenty-six of the vessels on

fire, and dispersed the rest. Four other engagements ensued in rapid

succession. The last and most important took place shortly after the

Japanese troops had seized Pyong-yang. It resulted in the sinking of

over seventy Japanese vessels, transports and fighting ships

combined, which formed the main part of a flotilla carrying

reinforcements by sea to the van of the invading army. This despatch

of troops and supplies by water had been a leading feature of

Hideyoshi's plan of campaign, and the destruction of the flotilla to

which the duty was entrusted may be said to have sealed the fate of

the war by isolating the army in Korea from its home base.

"It is true that Konishi Yukinaga, who commanded the first division,

desired to continue his northward march from Pyong-yang without

delay. He argued that China was wholly unprepared, and that the best

hope of ultimate victory lay in not giving her time to collect her

forces. But the commander-in-chief, Ukita Hideiye, refused to endorse

this plan. He took the view that since the Korean provinces were

still offering desperate resistance, supplies could not be drawn from

them, neither could the troops engaged in subjugating them be freed

for service at the front. Therefore it was essential to await the

consummation of the second phase of Hideyoshi's plan, namely, the

despatch of re-enforcements and munitions by water to Pyong-yang. The

reader has seen how that second phase fared. The Japanese commander

at Pyong-yang never received any accession of strength. His force

suffered constant diminution from casualties, and the question of

commissariat became daily more difficult. . . . Japanese historians

themselves admit the fact that no wise effort was made to conciliate

the Korean people. They were treated so harshly that even the humble

peasant took up arms, and thus the peninsula, instead of serving as a

basis of supplies, had to be garrisoned perpetually by a strong

army."* Korean historians give long and minute accounts of the

development and exploits of guerilla bands, which, though they did

not obtain any signal victory over the invaders, harassed the latter

perpetually, and compelled them to devote a large part of their force

to guarding the lines of communication.

*Encyclopedia Britannica, 11th edition; article "Japan," by Brinkley.

CHINESE INTERFERENCE

Having suffered for their loyalty to China, the Koreans naturally

looked to her for succour. Peking should have understood the

situation thoroughly. Even without any direct communication from

Japan, the Peking Court had cognizance of Hideyoshi's intentions. A

letter addressed by him in the year 1591 to the King of Ryukyu stated

clearly his intention of extending Japanese sovereignty throughout

the whole Orient, and the ruler of Ryukyu had lost no time in making

this fact known to Peking.* Yet it does not appear that the Chinese

had any just appreciation of the situation. Their first response to

Korea's appeal was to mobilize a force of five thousand men in the

Liaotung peninsula, which force crossed the Yalu and moved against

Pyong-yang, where the Japanese van had been lying idle for over two

months. This occurred early in October, 1592. The incident

illustrated China's confidence in her own superiority. "The whole of

the Korean forces had been driven northward throughout the entire

length of the peninsula by Japanese armies, yet Peking considered

that five thousand Chinese braves would suffice to roll back this

tide of invasion."

*There is still extant a letter addressed by Hideypshi in June, 1592,

to Hidetsugu, his nephew, and then nominal successor. In this

document it is distinctly stated that the attention of the Emperor of

Japan should be directed to the Chinese capital, inasmuch as the

Japanese Court would pay a visit to Peking in 1594, on which occasion

the ten provinces surrounding the Chinese capital would be presented

to his Majesty, and out of this territory the Court nobles would

receive estates.

The result was a foregone conclusion. Three thousand of the Chinese

were killed, and the rest fled pele-mele across the Yalu. China now

began to be seriously alarmed. She despatched to Pyong-yang an envoy

named Chen Weiching--known in Japanese history as Chin Ikei--who was

instructed not to conclude peace but only to make such overtures as

might induce the Japanese to agree to an armistice, thus enabling the

Chinese authorities to mobilize a sufficient force. Konishi Yukinaga

fell into this trap. He agreed to an armistice of fifty days, during

which the Japanese pledged themselves not to advance more than three

miles northward of Pyong-yang while Chen proceeded to Peking to

arrange terms of peace. It is very evident that had the Japanese seen

any certain prospect of proceeding to the invasion of China, they

would not have agreed to such an arrangement as this--an arrangement

which guaranteed nothing except leisure for the mobilization of a

strong Chinese army. It had, indeed, become plain to the Japanese

commanders, after six months of operations in the peninsula, that the

wisest course for them was to arrange a satisfactory peace.

The second force put in the field by China is estimated by the

Jesuits and the Japanese at 200,000 men and at 51,000 by Korean

history. Probably the truth lies midway between the two extremes.

This powerful army moved across Manchuria in the dead of winter and

hurled itself against Pyong-yang during the first week of February,

1593. The Japanese garrison at that place cannot have greatly

exceeded twenty thousand men, for nearly one-half of its original

number had been detached to hold a line of forts guarding the

communications with Seoul. Neither Chinese nor Japanese history

comments on the instructive fact that the arrival of this army under

the walls of Pyong-yang was China's answer to her envoy's promise of

a satisfactory peace, nor does it appear that any discredit attached

to Chen Weiching for the deception he had practised; his competence

as a negotiator was subsequently admitted without cavil. The Chinese,

though their swords were much inferior to the Japanese weapon,

possessed great superiority in field artillery and cavalry, as well

as in the fact that their troopers wore iron mail which defied the

keenest blade. Thus, after a severe fight which cost the Japanese

twenty-three hundred men, they had to evacuate Pyong-yang and retreat

towards Seoul, the army under Kato Kiyomasa retiring at the same time

from the northeast and fighting its way back to the central route.

Orders were then issued by the commander-in-chief, Ukita, for the

whole of the Japanese forces in the north of the peninsula to

concentrate in Seoul, but Kohayakawa, one of Hideyoshi's most trusted

generals, whose name has occurred more than once in these annals,

conducted a splendid covering movement at a place a few miles

northward of Seoul, the result of which was that the Chinese fled in

haste over the Injin, losing ten thousand men in their retreat.

But, though the Japanese had thus shaken off the pursuit, it was

impossible for them to continue in occupation of Seoul. The

conditions existing there were shocking. Widespread famine menaced,

with its usual concomitant, pestilence. According to Korean history,

the streets of the city and the roads in the suburbs were piled with

corpses to a height of ten feet above the wall. The Japanese,

therefore, made proposals of peace, and the Chinese agreed, on

condition that the Japanese gave up two Korean princes held captive

by them, and retired to the south coast of the peninsula. These terms

were accepted, and on May 9, 1593, that is to say, 360 days after the

landing of the invaders' van at Fusan, the evacuation of the Korean

capital took place. The Chinese commanders showed great lack of

enterprise. They failed to utilize the situation, and in October of

the same year they withdrew from the peninsula all their troops

except ten thousand men. Negotiations for permanent peace now

commenced between the Governments of Japan and China, but while the

pourparlers were in progress the most sanguinary incident of the

whole war took place. During the early part of the campaign a

Japanese attack had been beaten back from Chinju, which was reckoned

the strongest fortress in Korea. Hideyoshi now ordered that the

Japanese troops, before sailing for home, should rehabilitate their

reputation by capturing this place, where the Koreans had mustered a

strong army. The order was obeyed. Continuous assaults were delivered

against the fortress during the space of nine days, and when it

passed into Japanese possession the Koreans are said to have lost

between sixty and seventy thousand men and the casualties on the

Japanese side must have been almost as numerous.

THE NEGOTIATIONS

After the fall of Chinju, all the Japanese troops, with the exception

of Konishi's corps, were withdrawn from Korea, and the Japanese

confined their operations to holding a cordon of twelve fortified

camps along the southern coast of the peninsula. These camps were

nothing more than bluffs overlooking the sea on the south, and

protected on the land side by moats and earthworks. The action at

Chinju had created some suspicion as to the integrity of Japan's

designs, but mainly through the persistence and tact of the Chinese

envoy, Chen Weiching, terms were agreed upon, and on October 21,

1596, a Chinese mission reached Japan and proceeded to Osaka. The

island had just then been visited by a series of uniquely disastrous

earthquakes, which had either overthrown or rendered uninhabitable

all the great edifices in and around Kyoto. One corner of Osaka

Castle alone remained intact, and there the mission was received.

Hideyoshi refused to give audience to the Korean members of the

mission, and welcomed the Chinese members only, from whom he expected

to receive a document placing him on a royal pinnacle at least as

high as that occupied by the Emperor of China. The document actually

transmitted to him was of a very different significance as the

following extract shows:

The Emperor, who respects and obeys heaven and is favoured by

Providence, commands that he be honoured and loved wherever the

heavens overhang and the earth upbears. The Imperial command is

universal; even as far as the bounds of ocean where the sun rises,

there are none who do not obey it. In ancient times our Imperial

ancestors bestowed their favours on many lands: the Tortoise Knots

and the Dragon Writing were sent to the limits of far Japan; the pure

alabaster and the great-seal character were granted to the monarchs

of the submissive country. Thereafter came billowy times when

communications were interrupted, but an auspicious opportunity has

now arrived when it has pleased us again to address you. You,

Toyotomi Taira Hideyoshi, having established an Island kingdom and

knowing the reverence due to the Central Land, sent to the west an

envoy, and with gladness and affection offered your allegiance. On

the north you knocked at the barrier of ten thousand li, and

earnestly requested to be admitted within our dominions. Your mind is

already confirmed in reverent submissiveness. How can we grudge our

favour to so great meekness? We do, therefore, specially invest you

with the dignity of "King of Japan," and to that intent issue this

our commission. Treasure it carefully. As a mark of our special

favour towards you, we send you over the sea a robe and crown

contained in a costly case, so that you may follow our ancient custom

as respects dress. Faithfully defend the frontier of our empire; let

it be your study to act worthily of your position as our minister;

practice moderation and self-restraint; cherish gratitude for the

Imperial favour so bountifully bestowed upon you; change not your

fidelity; be humbly guided by our admonitions; continue always to

follow our instructions.*

*Quoted by W. Dening in A New Life of Hideyoshi.

Hideyoshi had already donned the robe and crown mentioned in the

above despatch, his belief being that they represented his

investiture as sovereign of Ming. On learning the truth, he tore off

the insignia and flung them on the ground in a fit of ungovernable

wrath at the arrogance of the Chinese Emperor's tone. It had never

been distinctly explained how this extraordinary misunderstanding

arose, but the most credible solution of the problem is that Naito,

baron of Tamba, who had proceeded to Peking for the purpose of

negotiating peace, was so overawed by the majesty and magnificence of

the Chinese Court that, instead of demanding Hideyoshi's investiture

as monarch of China, he stated that nothing was needed except China's

formal acknowledgement of the kwampaku's real rank. Hideyoshi, in his

natural anger, ordered the Chinese ambassadors to be dismissed

without any written answer and without any of the gifts usual on such

occasions according to the diplomatic custom of the Orient.

He was, however, induced not to prosecute his quarrel with the Middle

Kingdom, and he turned his anger entirely against Korea. Accordingly,

on March 19, 1597, nine fresh corps were mobilized for oversea

service, and these being thrown into Korea, brought the Japanese

forces in that country to a total of 141,000 men. But the campaign

was not at first resumed with activity proportionate to this great

army. The Japanese commanders seem to have waited for some practical

assurances that the command of the sea would not be again wrested

from them; a natural precaution seeing that, after five years' war,

Korea herself was no longer in a position to make any contributions

to the commissariat of the invaders. It is a very interesting fact

that, on this occasion, the Japanese victories at sea were as signal

as their defeats had been in 1592. The Korean navy comprised the same

vessels which were supposed to have proved so formidable five years

previously, but the Japanese naval architects had risen to the level

of the occasion, and the Korean fleet was well-nigh annihilated.

Meanwhile, the Chinese had sent a powerful army to southern Korea,

and against these fresh forces the Japanese attacks were directed.

Everywhere the invaders were victorious, and very soon the three

southern provinces of the peninsula had been captured. No actual

reverse was met with throughout, but an indecisive victory near

Chiksan, in the north of the metropolitan province, rendered it

impossible for the Japanese to establish themselves in Seoul before

the advent of winter, and they therefore judged it advisable to

retire to their seaboard chain of entrenched camps. Early in 1598, a

fresh army of forty thousand men reached Seoul from China, and for a

moment the situation seemed to threaten disaster for the Japanese.

Their strategy and desperate valour proved invincible, however, and

the Kagoshima samurai won, on October 30, 1598, a victory so signal

that the ears and noses of thirty-seven thousand Chinese heads were

sent to Japan and buried under a tumulus near the temple of Daibutsu

in Kyoto, where this terrible record, called Mimizuka (Mound of

Ears), may be seen to-day.

Just about this time, intelligence of the death of Hideyoshi reached

the Japanese commanders in Korea, and immediately an armistice was

arranged. The withdrawal of the invading forces followed, not without

some serious difficulties, and thus the six years' campaign

terminated without any direct results except an immense loss of life

and treasure and the reduction of the Korean peninsula to a state of

desolation. It has been repeatedly pleaded for the wholly

unprogressive state into which Korea thenceforth fell. But to

conclude that a nation could be reduced by a six-years' war to three

centuries of hopelessness and helplessness is to credit that nation

with a very small measure of resilient capacity.

INDIRECT RESULTS

The war was not altogether without indirect results of some value to

Japan. Among these may be cited the fact that, a few decades later,

when the Tsing dynasty destroyed the Ming in China, subjugated Korea,

and assumed a position analogous to that previously held by the Yuan,

no attempt was made to defy Japan. The memory of her soldiers'

achievements on the Korean battle-fields sufficed to protect her

against foreign aggression. Another material result was that, in

compliance with Hideyoshi's orders, the returning Japanese generals

brought back many Korean art-artisans who contributed largely to the

development of the ceramic industry. On no less than seven different

kinds of now well-known porcelain and pottery in Japan did these

experts exercise marked influence, and their efforts were specially

timely in view of the great vogue then enjoyed by all utensils used

in connexion with the tea ceremonial. It is not to be supposed,

however, that these Korean artisans showed any superiority to the

Japanese as artists. The improvements they introduced were almost

entirely of a technical character. Another benefit derived by Japan

from her contact with Korea at this time was the introduction of

movable type. Up to this time the art of printing had been in a very

primitive condition in Japan, and the first book printed with movable

type made its appearance in the Bunroku era (1592-1595).

ENGRAVING: SIGNATURE OF TAKEDA SHINGEN

ENGRAVING: NAGOYA CASTLE

A history of the Japanese people · 第 37 / 51 章