SOCIAL LIFE.—WOMAN AND THE FAMILY.
According to the opinions of the French missionaries, who were familiar
with the social life of the people, a Corean woman has no moral
existence. She is an instrument of pleasure or of labor; but never
man’s companion or equal. She has no name. In childhood she receives
indeed a surname by which she is known in the family, and by near
friends, but at the age of puberty, none but her father and mother
employ this appellative. To all others she is “the sister” of such a
one, or “the daughter” of so-and-so. After her marriage her name is
buried. She is absolutely nameless. Her own parents allude to her by
employing the name of the district or ward in which she has married.
Her parents-in-law speak of her by the name of the place in which she
lived before marriage, as women rarely marry in the same village with
their husbands. When she bears children, she is “the mother” of
so-and-so. When a woman appears for trial before a magistrate, in order
to save time and trouble, she receives a special name for the time
being. The women below the middle class work very hard. Farm labor is
done chiefly by them. Manure is applied by the women, rarely by the
men. The women carry lunch to the laborers in the field, eating what is
left for their share. In going to market, the women carry the heavier
load. In their toilet, the women use rouge, white powders, and hair
oil. They shave the eyebrows to a narrow line—that is, to a perfectly
clean arch, with nothing straggling. They have luxuriant hair, and, in
addition, use immense switches to fill out large coiffures.
In the higher classes of society, etiquette demands that the children
of the two sexes be separated after the age of eight or ten years.
After that time the boys dwell entirely in the men’s apartments, to
study and even to eat and drink. The girls remain secluded in the
women’s quarters. The boys are taught that it is a shameful thing even
to set foot in the female part of the house. The girls are told that it
is disgraceful even to be seen by males, so that gradually they seek to
hide themselves whenever any of the male sex appear. These customs,
continued from childhood to old age, result in destroying the family
life. A Corean of good taste only occasionally holds conversation with
his wife, whom he regards as being far beneath him. He rarely consults
her on anything serious, and though living under the same roof, one may
say that husband and wife are widely separated. The female apartments
among the higher classes resemble, in most respects, the zenanas of
India. The men chat, smoke, and enjoy themselves in the outer rooms,
and the women receive their parents and friends in the interior
apartments. The same custom, based upon the same prejudice, hinders the
common people in their moments of leisure from remaining in their own
houses. The men seek the society of their male neighbors, and the
women, on their part, unite together for local gossip. In the higher
classes, when a young woman has arrived at marriageable age, none even
of her own relatives, except those nearest of kin, is allowed to see or
speak to her. Those who are excepted from this rule must address her
with the most ceremonious reserve. After their marriage, the women are
inaccessible. They are nearly always confined to their apartments, nor
can they even look out in the streets without permission of their
lords. So strict is this rule that fathers have on occasions killed
their daughters, husbands their wives, and wives have committed suicide
when strangers have touched them even with their fingers. The common
romances or novels of the country expatiate on the merits of many a
Corean Lucretia. In some cases, however, this exaggerated modesty
produces the very results it is intended to avoid. If a bold villain or
too eager paramour should succeed in penetrating secretly the
apartments of a noble lady, she dare not utter a cry, nor oppose the
least resistance which might attract attention; for then, whether
guilty or not, she would be dishonored forever by the simple fact that
a man had entered her chamber. Every Corean husband is a Cæsar in this
respect. If, however, the affair remains a secret, her reputation is
saved.
There is, however, another side. Though counting for nothing in
society, and nearly so in their family, they are surrounded by a
certain sort of exterior respect. They are always addressed in the
formulas of honorific language. The men always step aside in the street
to allow a woman to pass, even though she be of the poorer classes. The
apartments of females are inviolable even to the minions of the law. A
noble who takes refuge in his wife’s room may not be seized. Only in
cases of rebellion is he dragged forth, for in that case his family are
reckoned as accomplices in his guilt. In other crimes the accused must
in some way be enticed outside, where he may be legally arrested. When
a peddler visits the house to show his wares, he waits until the doors
of the women’s apartments are shut. This done, his goods are examined
in the outer apartments, which are open to all. When a man wishes to
mend, or go up on his roof, he first notifies his neighbors, in order
that they may shut their doors and windows, lest he risk the horrible
suspicion of peeping at the women. As the Coreans do not see a “man in
the moon,” but only a rabbit pounding drugs, or a lady banished there
for a certain fault, according as they are most familiar with Sanskrit
or the Chinese story, the females are not afraid of this luminary, nor
are the men jealous of her, the moon being female in their ideas of
gender.
Marriage in Chō-sen is a thing with which a woman has little or nothing
to do. The father of the young man communicates, either by call or
letter, with the father of the girl whom he wishes his son to marry.
This is often done without consulting the tastes or character of
either, and usually through a middle-man or go-between. The fathers
settle the time of the wedding after due discussion of the contract. A
favorable day is appointed by the astrologers, and the arrangements are
perfected. Under this aspect marriage seems an affair of small
importance, but in reality it is marriage only that gives one any civil
rank or influence in society. Every unmarried person is treated as a
child. He may commit all sorts of foolishness without being held to
account. His capers are not noticed, for he is not supposed to think or
act seriously. Even the unmarried young men of twenty-five or thirty
years of age can take no part in social reunions, or speak on affairs
of importance, but must hold their tongues, be seen but not heard.
Marriage is emancipation. Even if mated at twelve or thirteen years of
age, the married are adults. The bride takes her place among the
matrons, and the young man has a right to speak among the men and to
wear a hat. The badge of single or of married life is the hair. Before
marriage, the youth, who goes bareheaded, wears a simple tress, hanging
down his back. The nuptial tie is, in reality, a knot of hair, for in
wedlock the hair is bound up on the top of the head and is cultivated
on all parts of the scalp. According to old traditions, men ought never
to clip a single hair; but in the capital the young gallants, in order
to add to their personal attractions—with a dash of fashionable
defiance—trim their locks so that their coiffure will not increase in
size more than a hen’s egg. The women, on the contrary, not only
preserve all their own hair, but procure false switches and braids to
swell their coiffures to fashionable bulk. They make up two large
tresses, which are rolled to the back and top of the head, and secured
by a long pin of silver or copper. The common people roll their plaits
around their heads, like a turban, and shave the front of the scalp.
Young persons who insist on remaining single, or bachelors arrived at a
certain or uncertain age, and who have not yet found a wife, secretly
cut off their hair, or get it done by fraud, in order to pass for
married folks and avoid being treated as children. Such a custom,
however, is a gross violation of morals and etiquette. (See
illustration, page 161.)
On the evening before the wedding, the young lady who is to be married
invites one of her friends to change her virginal coiffure to that of a
married woman.
The bridegroom-to-be also invites one of his acquaintance to “do up”
his hair in manly style. The persons appointed to perform this service
are chosen with great care, and as changing the hair marks the
turning-point in life, the hair-dresser of this occasion is called the
“hand of honor,” and answers to the bridesmaid and groomsman of other
countries.
On the marriage-day, in the house of the groom, a platform is set up
and richly adorned with decorative woven stuffs. Parents, friends, and
acquaintances assemble in a crowd. The couple to be married—who may
never have seen or spoken to each other—are brought in and take their
places on the platform, face to face. There they remain for a few
minutes. They salute each other with profound obeisance, but utter not
a word. This constitutes the ceremony of marriage. Each then retires,
on either side; the bride to the female, the groom to the male
apartments, where feasting and amusement, after fashions in vogue in
Chō-sen, take place. The expense of a wedding is considerable, and the
bridegroom must be unstinting in his hospitality. Any failure in this
particular may subject him to unpleasant practical jokes.
On her wedding-day, the young bride must preserve absolute silence,
both on the marriage platform and in the nuptial chamber. Etiquette
requires this at least among the nobility. Though overwhelmed with
questions and compliments, silence is her duty. She must rest mute and
impassive as a statue. She seats herself in a corner clothed in all the
robes she can bear upon her person. Her husband may disrobe her if he
wishes, but she must take no part or hinder him. If she utters a word
or makes a gesture, she is made the butt of the jokes and gossip of her
husband’s house or neighborhood. The female servants of the house place
themselves in a peeping position to listen or look through the windows,
and are sure to publish what they see and hear amiss. Or this may be
done to discover whether the husband is pleased with his wife, or how
he behaves to her, as is the case in Japan. A bit of gossip—evidently a
stock story—is the following from Dallet:
A newly married Corean groom spent a whole day among his male friends,
in order to catch some words from his wife at their first interview,
after their hours of separation. His spouse was informed of this, and
perhaps resolved to be obstinate. Her husband, having vainly tried to
make her speak, at last told her that on consulting the astrologers
they had said that his wife was mute from birth. He now saw that such
was the case, and was resolved not to keep for his wife a dumb woman.
Now in a Corean wedding, it is quite possible that such an event may
take place. One of the contracting parties may be deaf, mute, blind, or
impotent. It matters not. The marriage exists. But the wife, stung by
her husband’s words, broke out in an angry voice, “Alas, the horoscope
drawn for my partner is still more true. The diviner announced that I
should marry the son of a rat.” This, to a Corean, is a great insult,
as it attaints father and son, and hence the husband and his father.
The shouts of laughter from the eavesdropping female servants added to
the discomfiture of the young husband, who had gained his point of
making his bride use her tongue at a heavy expense, for long did his
friends jeer at him for his bravado, and chaff him at catching a
Tartar.
From the language, and from Japanese sources, we obtain some
side-lights on the nuptial ceremony and married life. In Corean phrase
hon-sang (the wedding and the funeral) are the two great events of
life. Many are the terms relating to marriage, and the synonyms for
conjugal union. “To take the hat,” “to clip the hair,” “to don the
tuft,” “to sit on the mat,” are all in use among the gentlemen of the
peninsula to denote the act or state of marriage. The hat and the hair
play an important part in the transition from single to double
blessedness. All who wear their locks ta-rai, or in a tress behind, are
youths and maidens. Those with the tuft or top-knot are married. At his
wedding and during the first year, the bridegroom wears a cap, made of
a yellow herb, which is supposed to grow only near Sunto. Other
honeymoon caps are melon-shaped, and made of sable skin. After the
chung-mai, or middle-man, has arranged the match, and the day is
appointed for the han-sa, or wedding, the bride chooses two or three
maiden friends as “bridesmaids.” If rich, the bride goes to her future
husband’s house in a palanquin; if poor, she rides on horseback. Even
the humblest maid uses a sort of cap or veil, with ornaments on the
breast, back, and at the girdle. When she cannot buy, she borrows. The
prominent symbolic figure at the wedding is a goose; which, in Corean
eyes, is the emblem of conjugal fidelity. Sometimes this mok-an is of
gilded wood, sometimes it is made out of a fish for eating, again it is
a live bird brought in a cloth with the head visible. If in the house,
as is usual, the couple ascend the piled mats or dais and the
reciprocal prostrations, or acts of mutual consent, form the
sacramental part of the ceremony, and constitute marriage. The bride
bows four times to her father-in-law and twice to the groom. The groom
then bows four times to the bride. Other symbolic emblems are the
fantastic shapes of straw (otsuka) presented to bride and groom alike.
Dried pheasant is also brought in and cut. A gourd-bottle of rice-wine,
decorated or tied with red and blue thread, is handed by the bride to
the groom. The bridesmaids standing beside the couple pour the liquid
and pass for exchange the one little “cup of the wine of mutual joy,”
several times filled and emptied.
Then begins the wedding-feast, when the guests drink and make merry.
The important document certifying the fact of wedlock is called the
hon-se-chi, and is signed by both parties. When the woman is unable to
write, she makes “her mark” (siu-pon) by spreading out her hand and
tracing with a pencil the exact profile of palm, wrist, and fingers.
Sometimes the groom, in addition to his four prostrations, which are
significant of fidelity to the bride, gives to his father-in-law a
written oath of constancy to his daughter. Faithfulness is, however, a
typical feminine, rather than masculine, virtue in the hermit nation.
The pong-kang, a kind of wild canary bird, is held up to the wife as
her model of conjugal fidelity. Another large bird, somewhat exceeding
a duck in size, and called the ching-kiong, is said never to remate
after the death of its consort. Corean widows are expected to imitate
this virtuous fowl. In some places may be seen the vermilion arch or
monumental gateway erected to some widow of faithful memory who wedded
but once. Married women wear two rings on the ring finger. Sixty years,
or a cycle, completes the ideal length of marital life, and “a golden
wedding” is then celebrated.
Among the most peculiar of women’s rights in Chō-sen is the curious
custom forbidding any males in Seoul from being out after eight o’clock
in the evening. When this Corean curfew sounds, all men must hie
in-doors, while women are free to ramble abroad until one A.M. To
transgress this law of pem-ya brings severe penalty upon the offender.
In-doors, the violation of the privacy of the woman’s quarters is
punishable by exile or severe flagellation.
The following story, from Dallet, further illustrates some phases of
their marriage customs, and shows that, while polygamy is not allowed,
concubinage is a recognized institution:
A noble wished to marry his own daughter and that of his deceased
brother to eligible young men. Both maidens were of the same age. He
wished to wed both well, but especially his own child. With this idea
in view he had already refused some good offers. Finally he made a
proposal to a family noted alike for pedigree and riches. After
hesitating some time which of the maidens he should dispose of first,
he finally decided upon his own child. Without having seen his future
son-in-law, he pledged his word and agreed upon the night. Three days
before the ceremony he learned from the diviners that the young man
chosen was silly, exceedingly ugly, and very ignorant. What should he
do? He could not retreat. He had given his word, and in such a case the
law is inflexible. In his despair he resolved upon a plan to render
abortive what he could not avert. On the day of the marriage, he
appeared in the women’s apartments, and gave orders in the most
imperative manner that his niece, and not his daughter, should don the
marriage coiffure and the wedding-dress, and mount the nuptial
platform. His stupefied daughter could not but acquiesce. The two
cousins being of about the same height, the substitution was easy, and
the ceremony proceeded according to the usual forms. The new bridegroom
passed the afternoon in the men’s apartments, where he met his supposed
father-in-law. What was the amazement of the old noble to find that far
from being stupid and ugly, as depicted by the diviners, the young man
was good-looking, well-formed, intelligent, highly educated, and
amiable in manners. Bitterly regretting the loss of so accomplished a
son-in-law, he determined to repair the evil. He secretly ordered that,
instead of his niece, his daughter should be introduced as the bride.
He knew well that the young man would suspect nothing, for during the
salutations the brides are always so muffled up with dresses and loaded
with ornaments that it is impossible to distinguish their countenances.
All happened as the old man desired. During the two or three days which
he passed with the new family, he congratulated himself upon obtaining
so excellent a son-in-law. The latter, on his part, showed himself more
and more charming, and so gained the heart of his supposed
father-in-law that, in a burst of confidence, the latter revealed to
him all that had happened. He told of the diviners’ reports concerning
him, and the successive substitutions of niece for daughter and
daughter for niece.
The young man was at first speechless, then, recovering his composure,
said: “All right, and that is a very smart trick on your part. But it
is clear that both the two young persons belong to me, and I claim
them. Your niece is my lawful wife, since she has made to me the legal
salute, and your daughter—introduced by yourself into my
marriage-chamber—has become of right and law my concubine.” The crafty
old man, caught in his own net, had nothing to answer. The two young
women were conducted to the house of the new husband and master, and
the old noble was jeered at both for his lack of address and his bad
faith.
It is the reciprocal salutation before witnesses on the wedding-dais
that constitutes legitimate marriage. From that moment a husband may
claim the woman as his wife. If he repudiates or divorces her, he may
not marry another woman while his former wife is living, but he is free
to take as many concubines as he can support. It is sufficient that a
man is able to prove that he has had intimate relations with a maiden
or a widow; she then becomes his legal property. No person, not even
her parents, can claim her if the man persists in keeping her. If she
escape, he may use force to bring her back to his house. Conjugal
fidelity—obligatory on the woman—is not required of the husband, and a
wife is little more than a slave of superior rank. Among the nobles,
the young bridegroom spends three or four days with his bride, and then
absents himself from her for a considerable time, to prove that he does
not esteem her too highly. Etiquette dooms her to a species of
widowhood, while he spends his hours of relaxation in the society of
his concubines. To act otherwise would be considered in very bad taste,
and highly unfashionable. Instances are known of nobles who, having
dropped a few tears at the death of their wives, have had to absent
themselves from the saloons of their companions to avoid the torrent of
ribaldry and jeers at such weakness. Such eccentricity of conduct makes
a man the butt of long-continued raillery.
Habituated from infancy to such a yoke, and regarding themselves as of
an inferior race, most women submit to their lot with exemplary
resignation. Having no idea of progress, or of an infraction of
established usage, they bear all things. They become devoted and
obedient wives, jealous of the reputation and well-being of their
husbands. They even submit calmly to the tyranny and unreason of their
mothers-in-law. Often, however, there is genuine rebellion in the
household. Adding to her other faults of character, violence and
insubordination, a Corean wife quarrels with her mother-in-law, makes
life to her husband a burden, and incessantly provokes scenes of choler
and scandal. Among the lower classes, in such cases, a few strokes of a
stick or blows of the fist bring the wife to terms. In the higher
classes it is not proper to strike a woman, and the husband has no
other course than that of divorce. If it is not easy for him to marry
again, he submits. If his wife, not content with tormenting him, is
unfaithful to him, or, deserting his bed, goes back to her own house,
he can lead her before the magistrate, who after administering a
beating with the paddles, gives her as a concubine to one of his
underlings.
Women of tact and energy make themselves respected and conquer their
legitimate position, as the following example shows. It is taken by
Dallet from a Corean treatise on morals for the youth of both sexes:
Toward the end of the last century a noble of the capital, of high
rank, lost his wife, by whom he had had several children. His advanced
age rendered a second marriage difficult. Nevertheless, the middle-men
(or marriage-brokers employed in such cases) decided that a match could
be made with the daughter of a poor noble in the province of
Kiung-sang. On the appointed day he appeared at the mansion of his
future father-in-law, and the couple mounted the stage to make the
salute according to custom. Our grandee, casting his eyes upon his new
wife, stopped for the moment thunderstruck. She was very fat, ugly,
hump-backed, and appeared to be as slightly favored with gifts of mind
as of body.
But he could not withdraw, and he played his part firmly. He resolved
neither to take her to his house nor to have anything to do with her.
The two or three days which it was proper to pass in his
father-in-law’s house being spent, he departed for the capital and paid
no further attention to his new relatives.
The deserted wife, who was a person of a great deal of intelligence,
resigned herself to her isolation and remained in her father’s house,
keeping herself informed, from time to time, of what happened to her
husband. She learned, after two or three years, that he had become
minister of the second rank, and that he had succeeded in marrying his
two sons very honorably. Some years later, she heard that he proposed
to celebrate, with all proper pomp, the festivities of his sixtieth
birthday. Immediately, without hesitation and in spite of the
remonstrances and opposition of her parents, she took the road to the
capital. There hiring a palanquin, she was taken to the house of the
minister and announced herself as his wife. She alighted, entered the
vestibule, and presented herself with an air of assurance and a glance
of tranquillity at the women of the united families. Seating herself at
the place of honor, she ordered some fire brought, and with the
greatest calmness lighted her pipe before the amazed domestics. The
news was carried to the outer apartments of the gentlemen, but,
according to etiquette, no one appeared surprised.
Finally the lady called together the household slaves and said to them,
in a severe tone, “What house is this? I am your mistress, and yet no
one comes to receive me. Where have you been brought up? I ought to
punish you severely, but I shall pardon you this time.” They hastened
to conduct her into the midst of all the female guests. “Where are my
sons-in-law?” she demanded. “How is it that they do not come to salute
me? They forget that I am without any doubt, by my marriage, the mother
of their wives, and that I have a right, on their part, to all the
honors due to their own mothers.”
Forthwith the two daughters-in-law presented themselves with a shamed
air, and made their excuses as well as they were able. She rebuked them
gently, and exhorted them to show themselves more scrupulous in the
accomplishment of their duties. She then gave different orders in her
quality as mistress of the house.
Some hours after, seeing that neither of the men appeared, she called a
slave to her, and said to him: “My two sons are surely not absent on
such a day as this. See if they are in the men’s apartments, and bid
them come here.” The sons presented themselves before her, much
embarrassed, and blundered out some excuses. “How?” said she, “you have
heard of my arrival for several hours and have not come to salute me?
With such bad bringing up, and an equal ignorance of principles of
action, how will you make your way in the world? I have pardoned my
slaves and my daughters-in-law for their want of politeness, but for
you who are men I cannot let this fault pass unpunished.” With this she
called a slave and bade him give them some strokes on the legs with a
rod. Then she added, “For your father, the minister, I am his servant,
and I have not had orders to yield to him; but, as for you, henceforth
do you act so as not to forget proprieties.” Finally the minister
himself, thoroughly astonished at all that had passed, was obliged to
come to terms and to salute his wife. Three days after, the festivities
being ended, he returned to the palace. The king asked familiarly if
all had passed off happily. The minister narrated in detail the history
of his marriage, the unexpected arrival of his wife, and how she had
conducted herself. The king, who was a man of sense, replied: “You have
acted unjustly toward your wife. She appears to me to be a woman of
spirit and extraordinary tact. Her behavior is admirable, and I don’t
know how to praise her enough. I hope you will repair the wrongs you
have done her.” The minister promised, and some days later solemnly
conferred upon his wife one of the highest dignities of the court.
The woman who is legally espoused, whether widow or slave, enters into
and shares the entire social estate of her husband. Even if she be not
noble by birth she becomes so by marrying a noble, and her children are
so likewise. If two brothers, for example, espouse an aunt and a niece,
and the niece falls to the lot of the elder, she becomes thereby the
elder sister, and the aunt will be treated as a younger sister. This
relation of elder and younger sisters makes an immense difference in
life, position, and treatment, in all Chinese Asia.
It is not proper for a widow to remarry. In the higher classes a widow
is expected to weep for her deceased husband, and to wear mourning all
her life. It would be infamy for her, however young, to marry a second
time. The king who reigned 1469–1494 excluded children of remarried
widows from competition at the public examinations, and from admittance
to any official employment. Even to the present day such children are
looked upon as illegitimate.
Among a people so passionate as Coreans, grave social disorders result
from such a custom. The young noble widows who cannot remarry become,
in most cases, secretly or openly the concubines of those who wish to
support them. The others who strive to live chastely are rudely exposed
to the inroads of passion. Sometimes they are made intoxicated by
narcotics which are put in their drink, and they wake to find
themselves dishonored. Sometimes they are abducted by force, during the
night, by the aid of hired bandits. When they become victims of
violence, there is no remedy possible. It often happens that young
widows commit suicide, after the death of their husbands, in order to
prove their fidelity and to secure their honor and reputation beyond
the taint of suspicion. Such women are esteemed models of chastity, and
there is no end to their praises among the nobles. Through their
influence, the king often decrees a memorial gateway, column, or
temple, intended to be a monument of their heroism and virtue. Thus it
has often happened that Christian widows begged of the missionary
fathers permission to commit suicide, if attempts were made to violate
their houses or their persons; and it was with difficulty that they
could be made to comprehend the Christian doctrine concerning suicide.
The usual method of self-destruction is ja-mun, or cutting the throat,
or opening the abdomen with a sword. In this the Coreans are like the
Japanese, neck-cutting or piercing being the feminine, and hara-kiri
(belly-cutting) the masculine, method of ending life at one’s own
hands.
Among the common people, second marriages are forbidden neither by law
nor custom, but wealthy families endeavor to imitate the nobles in this
custom as in others. Among the poor, necessity knows no law. The men
must have their food prepared for them, and women cannot, and do not
willingly die of famine when a husband offers himself. Hence second
marriages among the lowly are quite frequent.
Most of the facts stated in this chapter are drawn from Dallet’s
“History of the [Roman Catholic] Church in Corea.” Making due allowance
for the statements of celibate priests, who are aliens in religion,
nationality, and civilization, the picture of the social life of
Chō-sen is that of abominable heathenism.