Some account of the treaty ports; Won-san, Fusan,
Mok-po—Character of export and import trade—Local industries
The oldest of the settlements in Korea is the port of Won-san, situated
upon the eastern shores of the kingdom, half-way between Fusan and
Vladivostock.
The picturesqueness of its setting makes the spacious harbour of this
bustling treaty port a graceful conclusion to any tour which has had
for its object the inspection of the scenic loveliness of the Diamond
Mountains. There is little indeed to disturb the placid enjoyment of life
amid the pine-clad bluffs and frowning headlands which surround the broad
waters of the bay. The fact of passing from the seclusion of wild valleys
and rugged heights, sheltering only the monasteries of Buddha, into the
lively atmosphere of a treaty port does not destroy the illusions which
any stay in the lofty regions of these Twelve Thousand Peaks necessarily
fosters.
Within wooded cliffs, which hang above a fringe of silver sand, looking
out over a harbour forty square miles in extent, where mountains
encompass every quarter of the horizon, and rocky islets, verdant
with vegetation, stud a sapphire sea, there lies a spot where the
fleets of the world might swing at anchor with perfect safety, in
perfect isolation. It is certainly a wonderful harbour; and worthy of
the commotion caused at intervals by the desire of Russia to secure
possession of the prize. The superb advantages with which it is endowed
make it an object of solicitude to the Powers. If possession of this
harbour were coupled with the occupation of Vladivostock and Port Arthur,
the control of those northern seas would rest with the Russian fleet.
Otherwise, it is a peaceful place to be the centre of so much political
turmoil.
Won-san, the treaty port, is situated in the south-west corner of the
harbour. The northern arm of the harbour is known as Port Lazareff; the
south-eastern portion is Broughton Bay, the name which is usually given
to the entire harbour. Captain W. R. Broughton, the English navigator,
first entered it on October 4, 1797, in his sloop-of-war of 16 guns,
_Providence_. Port Lazareff is about sixteen miles from Won-san, in a
westerly direction across the bay, at the mouth of the Dun river. It
is the point which Russia was credited with the intention of securing
for the terminus of her Trans-Siberian Railway. There are two entrances
into Broughton Bay, one giving direct admission into Port Lazareff.
Russian men-of-war make the most of this advantage in visiting the
harbour, for it enables them to enter without revealing their presence
to the authorities upon shore. Upon one occasion, when I was visiting
the neighbourhood, I surprised parties from two Russian men-of-war
engaged in surveying the hills and taking soundings of the anchorages;
their presence was quite unsuspected by the Japanese Consul or by the
Commissioner of Customs.
The bay is well protected by chains of mountains, its physical
perfections in this respect rendering it of peculiar value as a naval
base. The channel into the harbour is broad, deep, and free from all
encumbrances. Numerous islands are so situated about the mouth that every
approach could be strongly protected. Besides being easy of access, there
is an average depth of about nine fathoms upon a firm bottom. The water
is free from ice in winter, notwithstanding the severity of the cold in
this region. Inexhaustible supplies of spring water can be obtained; and,
in the proper season, the shooting and fishing afford very varied sport.
These are, however, but the accessories to a harbour, which, if it were
fortified and converted into a first-class naval station, would be the
equal of Vladivostock and superior to every other station in the Far
East. It is far in advance of anything which the Powers have seized in
China.
Between Hong Kong and Dalny, the commercial harbour of Port Arthur, which
Russia has endeavoured to improve since it belonged to China, there is
no anchorage which could be so readily and inexpensively adapted to
the requirements of a first-class naval station of a first-class naval
Power. At present, Won-san harbour is visited only by the squadrons which
Russia and Japan maintain in this water. Although there is a flourishing
Japanese settlement upon shore, no Japanese gun-boat is detached as yet
for guardship duties. At Fusan and Chemulpo, however, the practice of
detailing ships for port duties is carefully observed, Japan losing few
opportunities to impress upon her neighbour in particular, and the world
in general, the significance of her interests in Korea.
Won-san was opened to Japanese trade in 1880, becoming a general foreign
settlement on November 3rd, three years later. Although its subsequent
development is due entirely to the industry of the Japanese, and
their undoubted commercial sagacity, its imports of foreign trade in
recent years have contributed to the position which it now takes in the
commercial progress of the country. The economic expansion of the port,
however, has been promoted by the business resulting from the immigration
of Japanese settlers and the doubling of the native population. Materials
for clothing, cotton goods, grass-cloth, and silk are pre-eminent in the
local requirements. A comparison of the annual returns discloses a steady
advance in its prosperity, the paramount influence, which the Japanese
exercise over its welfare, restricting foreign trade to those articles
which cannot be imported from Japan. Business has just doubled in six
years; but the increase in the import trade is not in favour of British
goods. The imposition of the tariff, which prevails in European Russia,
at Vladivostock, accounted for the general advance in foreign imports
at Won-san during 1901. In the following year, 1902, the imports were
again heavier than the exports, the figures being: Imports, £191,535,
and exports, £102,205. The local government of the port is conducted
upon Japanese lines. The streets are broad, well gravelled, and fringed
with an irregular border of trees. After the foul and narrow lanes of
the Korean town, through which it is necessary to pick one’s way before
entering the settlement, their appearance is cheerful and attractive.
Won-san, the native town which has given its name to the port, is two
miles from the heart of the settlement, and comprises a quaint medley
of thatched and tiled houses, crowded together in narrow and noisome
alleys. The main road from Seoul to the frontier, one of the six great
roads of the country, lies through the centre of the town. The clusters
of hovels, upon both sides of this excellent highway, suggest that the
eligible sites are only those which abut upon this spacious thoroughfare.
Glimpses of the bay are visible through gaps in the houses. The smell of
the sea is lost in the fumes of drying fish and decaying garbage, which
hang heavily in the atmosphere, impregnating everything and penetrating
everywhere, save to the wind-swept heights which encircle the bay. A
population of 15,000 huddles in these groups of thatched shops and
tumble-down houses.
The native town ceases abruptly about a mile from the settlement. Fields
of vegetables border the road. The strip of beach upon which the town is
placed, is black with patches of fish spread to the sun, littered with
fishing nets, and encumbered with crazy fishing-boats and junks. After a
little it disappears around cliffs, whose crests are fragrant with pine
and fir trees. Tortuous valleys, giving glimpses of prosperous villages
set in their midst against a background of majestic peaks and ridges of
hills, well-timbered headlands and promontories upon which are set the
houses of the missionaries, combine, with the broad waters of the bay
and the vista of the open sea beyond, to form a series of picturesque
and supremely attractive views. There are nearly three thousand Japanese
in residence at Won-san, a few Chinese merchants, and a small foreign
community, including the Commissioner of Customs and Mrs. Wakefield, and
the Customs staff. The rest are evangelists of no great importance.
The climate of Won-san is dry and healthy. The heat is tempered by sea
breezes and the nights are cool. The mean temperature for the summer
is seventy-three degrees, and for the winter twenty-nine degrees; the
rainfall is forty-four inches, a little greater than that upon the west
coast. Snow falls to a depth of four feet, covering the mountains from
October until May. The port is, however, rather cooler than Chemulpo
in summer and a little warmer in winter, the dryness of the atmosphere
considerably modifying the cold. The splendour of an autumn sky continues
throughout the winter, when the principal shooting is to be obtained.
Much historical interest attaches to many of the more beautiful spots in
the vicinity. From this neighbourhood sprang the kings of Ancient Ko-ryö;
and again, it gave birth to the reigning house of Cho-syön, for, in the
monastery of Sok-wan, twenty-two miles distant, A Tai-cho, the first king
of the present dynasty, was educated and lived. The monastery itself,
with its temples, was erected by the King to mark the spot where, 509
years ago, he received that supernatural summons to rule, in virtue of
which his descendants now occupy the throne. In the seclusion of this
beautiful spot, the early years of A Tai-cho were passed in meditation,
study, and preparation for his future kingship. Many of the magnificent
trees, which embower the temples and rise in stately dignity from the
grand mountain clefts, in which the monastery is situated, are reputed to
have been planted by his hands. In a building apart, into which no one is
allowed to enter, save the monk in whose keeping the relics are placed,
his regalia and robes of State are preserved to this day.
Won-san is situated in the southern corner of the province of Ham-kyöng.
A considerable portion of its trade is carried on with the closely
adjoining divisions of Pyöng-an and Kang-won, the three provinces
forming the northern half of the kingdom; their population is variously
estimated at between three and five millions. Mountains predominate in
these districts. A bewildering tangle of wooded hills and bleak peaks
meets the eye, jumbling and jostling one another in every direction
until nothing is seen but broken mountains and ridges cleft into a
thousand little valleys. More especially is this the case in Ham-kyöng
and Kang-won; in Pyöng-an the valleys broaden out and the hills become
lower and less frequent, giving place to the Ta-dong River, and many
wide spaces for agricultural purposes. Among these broken ranges in the
neighbourhood of Won-san, and towards the interior, there is much sport.
Sable, ermine, and otter are trapped in Northern Ham-kyöng; tigers,
leopards, bears, wolves and foxes are rare in fact, plentiful in fiction.
Wild boar, deer and hares are not uncommon; pheasants are less numerous
than formerly. Snipe appear in August, duck in September, geese and
wild fowl in the winter on the marshes and lagoons. There is much game
upon the land, and there is much sport in the sea. Whales, shark, seal,
salmon, and innumerable small species wait to be caught, the products of
sea and land combining to make the place a sportsman’s paradise.
[Illustration: IN NEW FUSAN]
The approach to the treaty port of Fusan is through a bay strewn with
green islands and encompassed by high cliffs. A narrow path, skirting the
shore and running over the cliffs, leads presently to Old Fusan, a walled
city of great antiquity, situated at the end of a stretch of ten miles
of sea, which forms one of the arms of the bay. New Fusan is like every
other Korean treaty port. The smells of the Japanese settlement were
worse, however, very much worse, as I well remember, than any which rose
from the sewers and slimy alleys of the old town. Old Fusan stands alone,
at the head of the bay, looking down from its ruined and crumbling walls
across the waste of water, musing in decrepit isolation upon departed
glories. New Fusan, the foreign quarter, is very noisy, very dirty, and
uncomfortable. The Japanese shopkeepers make little attempt to provide
for other aliens; the wretched hotel demurs at receiving them. The place
is thoroughly Japanese, prosperous, active, and enduring. It is the focus
of the tumble-down steamers which run between the ports of Korea and
Japan, venturing even to Taku, Port Arthur and Vladivostock. Upon all
sides there is the appearance of industry and trade, inseparable from any
Japanese community. In conjunction with the Seoul-Fusan Railway a vast
scheme of harbour reclamation is in progress. This will provide suitable
sites for godowns, in which the port is sadly deficient. The making of
roads, the installation of electric light, and the construction of large
waterworks are the objects which have already received the attention
of the Japanese authorities. There is a Japanese Consul-General in
Fusan, who administers Japanese law to some fourteen thousand of his
fellow countrymen. Half of this number is comprised in the floating
population, whose sole business is fishing. The valuable fisheries lying
off the coast and in the adjacent archipelago return an annual yield
of ten million herring and half a million cod. Altogether, the bustle
and confusion of the place supports its claim to be the most important
of the treaty ports of Korea, in spite of the neglect with which
British merchants treat it. The actual Japanese population of the Fusan
settlement in 1901 was seven thousand and fourteen, an increase of more
than one thousand upon the returns of the previous year—six thousand and
four. Since then there has been a further increase, and the population at
the present time falls little short of nine thousand.
The activity of the Japanese in the open ports of Korea does not
correspond in any way to the size of the port. Whatever may be the
local conditions, there is no falling-off in their untiring enterprise.
If the port has been established ten or twenty years, or only one,
their commercial vigour is the same. After the settlements of Won-san,
Fusan, and Chemulpo, a visit to the port of Mok-po, declared open in
the autumn of 1897, fails to elicit much which is new or important.
Mok-po is very small. To those who are interested in the subject, it
gives an excellent example of the cool, resolute manner in which the
Japanese build up a very flourishing settlement upon the foundations of
an unprepossessing native village. The pioneers of the ports in Korea,
it is natural that they should select the best available sites for their
own quarter. At Mok-po, repeating a system which was adopted in the case
of Fusan, Won-san, and Chemulpo, the Japanese settlement commands the
one situation which is adaptable for commercial purposes. The approaches
to Mok-po lie through a network of island and rock-strewn channels,
the largest of which is some six hundred yards wide. The harbour is
the embouchure of the River Ru-yong-san, the main water-way of the
province, some ninety miles long. It can accommodate forty vessels of
large tonnage. The best passage is through Lyne Sound, but easy access is
given, from the south, by Washington Gulf. The width of the harbour is a
little less than two miles, with a depth at low water of eleven fathoms,
rising to nineteen on a full tide. At ebb tide the current averages five
knots an hour; during the spring tides this velocity increases, adding to
the disadvantages offered by an indifferent holding-ground.
Mok-po is situated in the south-western corner of the Province of
Chyöl-la, sometimes called the granary of Korea. The port takes its name
from a large island, which faces it on the north, and forms the entrance
to the river. It is picturesque and stands sufficiently high to break
the monotony of the surrounding country. Rough and barren to look upon,
it possesses the nucleus of what will become an important settlement as
trade increases. The buildings of the Japanese Consulate and the Customs
House are the most imposing structures at present in the place. The
British Consulate, a mass of rock, unadorned, bluff, bare and bleak, is
the most desolate and depressing. A vista of mud flats does not add to
the beauty of this spot. A well-built sea-wall, behind which some acres
of marshy shore have been reclaimed, indicates the spirit in which the
Japanese set to work to improve their concessions.
A composite trade centres at Mok-po, exceeding one hundred thousand
pounds in value. Foreign imports stand for quite eighty thousand of this
total. It is, perhaps, needless to add that no British shipping has
entered the harbour within the six years of its existence. German and
American steamers have nevertheless brought cargoes to Mok-po; Japanese
steamers touch regularly. The trade is that of a native market, whose
demands can be furnished from Japan; it is, of course, beneath the notice
of the British exporter. Piece goods, Japanese and American cigarettes,
matches, yarn, articles which the humbler classes now use and for which,
owing to the rapidly increasing native population of this south-western
Province, there will be greater demand in the future, make up the trade.
[Illustration: PALACE GATEWAY]
It may be that this port, despised by the British merchant, as are all
the ports of Korea, will some day head the centres of commerce of the
kingdom. Even now it attracts foreign goods from Japan, America, and
Germany. There are many channels through which British wares, cheap,
enduring, practical and suitable to prevailing conditions could filter
to the advantage of the British merchant. Cereals are raised in large
quantities, straw-matting, grass-cloth, paper and fans are the other
native manufactures. A vein of bituminous coal has been struck within a
short distance of the port. In two industries—the making of paper and
the weaving of grass-cloth—there are opportunities for expansion, which
any enterprising and intelligent agent could promote by introducing cheap
chemicals and inexpensive mechanical appliances. In the paper-making
trade alone there is a rich harvest to be garnered by the firm who will
choose to devote time, energy and patience to the creation of a business
in alkalies. Already the basis of a remunerative connection exists among
the villages devoted to this labour.