An
Expedition in Corea (1866)
M.
Henri Zuber, Former Naval Officer.
Published in Le
Tour
du monde illustré, 1873. T. XXV, p. 401 - 416
Embarked
on board the corvette Primauguet,
commanded by Captain Bochet, a worthy, brave and indifatigable
officer that the
Navy has unfortunately since lost, I had the good fortune,
rare today, to land
on an unexplored coast and visit an almost unknown people. I
propose to tell in
what follows what I saw during this expedition.
The reader will forgive
me if I begin my tale with a
general overview of the country of Korea, which has also
played its part in the
history of the world and where will be found no doubt, the key
to many
problems.
Korea is a
large peninsula between the thirty-fourth and forty-second
parallels of
latitude north, and one hundred and the twenty-third and one
hundred and
twenty-seventh meridian of longitude east.
It is bordered to the
north by the river
Hap-nok-Kang, which separates it from the Chinese province of
Leao-Tong, and a
mountain range called Paik-tu-san (Mount Summit White), east
and south by the
Sea of Japan, and finally to the west by the Gulf of
Pet-chi-li or Yellow Sea.
A high chain of
mountains, from which five major
rivers and a large number of smaller rivers emerge, generally
directed toward
the west, runs parallel to and a short distance from the east
coast, giving
birth to several important ramifications. These mountains,
many of which are
ancient volcanoes, have a very high elevation and—perhaps—a
mantle of snow
during the greater part of the year. Here, on this subject, is
how an indigenous
document describes the mountain Paik-tu-san:
“It is impossible to
measure the height of Mount
Paik-tu-san. A lake is at the top, the water is black and no
one can measure its
depth. There is snow and ice until the fourth month (the end
of May). Its whiteness
can be seen from afar and the top looks like a large white
vase. It is jagged and
like a vase whose opening is facing the sky. The crater is
white on the outside,
and red with white veins inside. On the north side, a stream
one meter deep
emerges as a cascade and forms the source of the river
Heuk-yeung (Black
Dragon). Some three or four li (one
thousand two hundred / six hundred meters) from the top of the
mountain, the Heuk-yeung
divides into two branches, one of which is the source of the
river Hap-nok-kang
(Green Duck).”
The
area of Korea is about
two hundred and sixteen thousand square kilometers and the
number of its
inhabitants is estimated at eight or nine million [* A census
from 1793 gives
the population of Korea as 7,342,341. The men were then
numbering 3,596,860 and
3,745,481 the number of women]. The average population is
about thirty-six
persons per square kilometer, or half of what it is in France.
But this
population is, as in all mountainous countries, very unevenly
distributed.
Dense in large valleys, especially near the western coast, it
is rare to the
east and becomes almost zero in the northern provinces. In
these latter, the
lack of population is not due to the rigor of the climate, or
the ingratitude
of the soil which is rather fertile, but to a political act.
Indeed, the Korean
government in this region suppressed four cities and created a
desert border
intended to protect it against Tartar invasions. This barrier
is neither more
effective nor less singular than the Great Wall, the two are
equal in absurdity.
Although it lies between
the same parallels as Asia
Minor, Korea is far from enjoying as mild a climate. As in all
the countries
surrounding it, the temperatures are extreme. Summer is hot
and rainy while
winter is cold and dry. It is during this season that the
northeast winds,
which have passed over the frozen steppes of Mongolia, blow
with greater
violence. The most beautiful months of the year are those of
September,
October, November and December.
Korea
is today divided into eight provinces, with the following
names:
1.
Kieung-kei-to.
2.
Tcheoung-tchieung-to.
3.
Tjieun-lo-to.
4.
Kieung-sang-to.
5.
Kang-ouen-to.
6.
Houng-hai-to.
7.
Ham-kieung-to.
8.
Pieung-an-to.
Each
of these provinces, very unequal in importance, is
administered by a governor, a
kind of prefect, who has under his command a number of
mandarins proportionate
to the cities of the province.
The Korean government is
an absolute hereditary
monarchy. The king's council is composed of three higher
ministers and of six
lower ministers, each responsible for a department
corresponding more or less
to our own. The king recognizes the suzerainty of the Son of
Heaven and pays or
should pay him tribute. Each year, two embassies go to
Beijing. The first
fetches the calendar, it should be observed, does not honor
Korean astronomers,
and the second, which is supposed to arrive in the capital of
China more or
less on the first day of the Chinese New Year, brings the
Emperor the good wishes
and presents from his vassal. Every year, a big market is held
on the border in
the small village of Foung-pien-men; Koreans bring beautiful
furs, the famous
root Genseng so desired by the Chinese, and other items that
are exchanged
against industrial products of the Celeste Empire. Trade of no
significance is
also exchanged with Japan. These are the only relationships
that Korea
maintains with its neighbors. It has not always been so, and
this state of
things has only existed since the seventeenth century or even
later. It was only
established after constant relationships, sometimes very
peaceful, sometimes hostile,
with China and Japan.
Thus Korea, thanks to
its geographical position, has
played the role of intermediary between the Celestial Empire
and that of the
Rising Sun, yet it does not seem to have profited sufficiently
from it, since
its current state of civilization is far from being equal to
that of its
neighbors.
It was in the first
century before Christ that
Koreans first established relations with the Japanese; the son
of the king of Sin-ra,
who reigned over the southern part of the peninsula, visited
the Mikado in
person. In the following centuries, Korean embassies
introduced successively to
Nippon books of philosophy and science from China, many
industries and some
animals, including the horse. War broke out with China. In the
year 12 AD, the
Koreans were defeated by the Chinese emperor Sin-wang, and
their prince was
declared deposed from the throne, but twenty years later the
kingdom was
restored by the Emperor Kuang-wu-ti. Hostilities recommenced
and then
repeatedly the Koreans ravaged Leao-tong. The third century
was full of
setbacks for the peninsula. In the year 200, during a civil
war due to the
rivalry of two brothers of royal race, the Japanese empress
Zin-ko landed on
the coast of the Kingdom of Sin-ra, defeated the troops sent
to stop her, and
imposed a tribute. In 246, the Chinese, in turn, defeated the
Koreans, who make
their submission, and almost at the same time, the Japanese
seized the entire
southern part of the peninsula. In the following century, a
man named Kao, from
the country of Fu-yu, located in the northwest of the
peninsula, usurps power and
probably established the unified kingdom of Cho-sen (Far
East), which then took
the name of Kao-li. [* Whence probably the name adopted for
Korea in Europe.]
Possession of the throne
was contested by Kao’s
descendants, but his grand-son finally gained the upper hand
definitively. The
fifth century was marked by no event of importance. Throughout
it, relations between
the Koreans and the Japanese were sometimes friendly,
sometimes hostile; they
frequently exchanged embassies. In 552, Buddhism was imported
to Japan. Ten
years later, wars resumed and continued for a long period,
both with China and
with Japan, with alternating success and failure. In 663,
Korea finally freed
itself of the Japanese, and after that relations between the
two countries lost
much of their political importance. Finally in 637 Korea was
again invaded and
subjected by the Chinese, and since that time, the country has
been almost
completely isolated from its neighbors and maintains only very
limited relations
with them, as was mentioned earlier. [* We owe this historical
overview to very
obliging communications of our learned orientalist M. Leon de
Rosny.]
Korea is as yet known to
Europeans only through
Chinese books, the relationship of a shipwrecked Dutch sailor
who underwent a
year of captivity in the capital, and some short accounts of
missionaries and sailors.
It is to say that this country, once it accessible to the
maritime powers of
the West, will offer a wide field to the scholarly
investigations and
explorations of travelers. Despite its favorable location from
a strategic point
of view, despite its salubrious climate, Korea has remained
sheltered from European
greed and outside political combinations. When part of Europe
had their eyes on
China and Japan, which had just opened to foreign trade, the
name of the
peninsula was not pronounced. Nobody, except perhaps the
Russians, has
considered moving into this mysterious land, still free of all
contact with the
barbarians. But if diplomacy was not interested in it, the
same was not true of
Catholic mission, always in search of new countries where it
can spread the
faith.
The first missionaries
came to Korea in the year
1820, and lived quietly until 1839. That year was hard, for
the country, which
was afflicted with famine, and for the mission, of which three
members were
killed. The missionary work continued none the less, with such
success that in
the following years, new persecutions were ordered against it.
In 1847, the
French government decided to intervene and sent the frigate
and corvette La Gloire
and La Victorieuse to Korea. Unfortunately, these
two ships, equipped
with insufficient information, were wrecked. The crews,
equipped with arms and
provisions, were able to take refuge on an island in the
archipelago of
Ko-Koun. They waited there for the help that two brave
officers were sent to
seek in Shang-hai and were soon rescued by ships of the
English fleet.
In 1856, Admiral
Guérin, commander of La Virginie, was more
fortunate: he
discovered the Gulf of Prince Jérome and the
archipelago of the Prince
Imperial, but his search for a route leading to the Korean
capital remained
without result, and he had leave the coasts of the peninsula
without having obtained
anything from the natives. I have seen for myself how much
energy and skill it must
have taken Admiral Guérin to make this expedition with
a sailing vessel.
Everything was in peace and nobody any longer thought of Korea
when, in March
1866, it was learned in China that in the space of a month,
nine missionaries had
been put to death. This event followed a Russian attempt to
establish a
settlement on the east coast. The missionaries who survived
have said that the
Prince Regent, who is the father of the young king, the
adopted son of Queen
Tso had, at the time of the arrival of the Russians, sent for
Bishop Berneux.
He wanted to consult him on the measures to be taken to remove
the barbarians
without causing a war. Then, after the Russians left of their
own accord, the regent,
completely reassured on that side and no longer needing the
advice of the
missionaries, had also resolved to get rid of them.
On March 8th, MM.
Berneux, de Bretennières, Dorie,
Beaulieu were beheaded; on the 11th, it was the turn of MM.
Petit-Nicolas and
Bourthié and finally on the 30th MM. Daveluy, Huin,
Aumaître joined the list of
European victims of this persecution, which was also aimed,
but with less
rigor, at the native converts. Three missionaries, MM. Feron,
Calais and Ridel,
all escaped.
Mr. Ridel, who managed
to reach the Chinese coast in
a small boat manned by eleven neophytes, made known
the sad news that we have just read. As soon as the commander
of the naval
division of the China Seas was informed of these facts, he
decided on a
military expedition. But a revolt in Cochin, which required
the assistance of
the Admiral’s frigate, delayed the expedition until September.
It is of this
small country, one of the least known of the East, that I
propose to instruct
the readers. I will pass lightly over the military acts and
rather pay
particular attention to the geographical and scenic aspects.
On September 12, 1866,
the naval division of the
China seas, commanded by Admiral Roze, was assembled in front
of the small
island of Kung-Tung, opposite the Chinese port of Che-foo. It
was in a state of
the highest activity, completing the loading of supplies and
making final
preparations. On the 18th, three ships of the division, the
corvette Primauguet,
under Commandant Bochet, with
the flag of rear-admiral, the frigate Déroulède
under captain Richy, and the gunboat Tardif,
under captain Chanoine, set sail and headed for the coast of
Korea.
The admiral, before
committing all his ships to
uncertain dangers of navigation, wanted to obtain a precise
notion of the
difficulties he would have to overcome. The next day at noon,
he recognized the
Ferrières Islands, surveyed by Admiral Guerin, and in
the evening, after having
happily passed all the channels, they anchored in the Gulf of
Prince Jérome. A
small barren and uninhabited island near the mooring was named
after the
Empress and served as the starting point for all subsequent
maritime operations.
The next day, the Déroulède, having on board Father
Ridel and some Koreans who had
accompanied the missionary to China, was sent in search of the
mouth of the
Han-kang River. Thanks to the natives their mission was
completed in a few
hours. He returned on the evening of the 21st, equipped with
the most valuable
information. Before going further, it is necessary to take a
quick look at the
topography of this part of Korea.
The Han-kang River takes
its source in the high
mountains of the east and flows generally in the direction of
the northwest.
The capital, Seoul, is located on the right bank, ten leagues
from the mouth.
Before emptying into the sea, the river is divided into two
arms by the island
of Kang-hoa, with an area of four hundred square kilometers.
One of the arms,
inaccessible to European vessels, flows due west, the other,
which the natives
aptly call "Salt River" as the water is completely brackish,
runs
from north to south. It ends in a series of archipelagos,
covering the twelve
miles between the island of Kang-hoa Gulf of Prince Jerome,
which contain no
less than a hundred and forty-two islands and islets. When you
know that the tidal
currents in these parts often reach a speed of seven miles an
hour, you will easily
appreciate the difficulties which navigation encounters.
Fortunately, at low
tide, a large number of these islands are connected by huge
gray mudflats, a
very sad sight, but allowing one to identify the channels.
Thanks to these
deposits from the river, one is less likely to get lost in
this terrifying
maritime labyrinth, but it is to be feared that access to the
Han-kang will become
increasingly difficult for ships of a certain size.
On September 22, the
three ships, guided by the Déroulède,
engaged in the channel, heading
north. From all sides Koreans assembled on the hilltops and
gazed, probably
with a mixture of admiration and fear, at these powerful
steamships, a sight so
new to them, as they made their way upstream against a current
which no junk
would have dared to confront. A people that lives in voluntary
isolation and
draws from it an exaggerated idea of its own
value, must make singular reflections when one of the wonders
of European science
unexpectedly appears.
The view to our right
was rather monotonous, as the
arid, scorched mountains of the coast loomed against a sky of
an admirable
purity; to our left, a steady stream of islands rarely allowed
a glimpse of the
horizon. Occasionally a clump of trees crowned a hill; these
small woods,
sacred to the Koreans, are, according to legend, inhabited by
spirits that
protect the country. Hamlets, usually sheltered from the
northwest winds, which
blow furiously in winter, could be seen lining our route.
Shortly after passing
the last of these hamlets and already some way into the Salt
River, the Primauguet
grounded on a shoal of rocks
and lost her false keel. This grounding, of no great
importance, interrupted the
exploration, which was resumed the next day, this time by the
two smaller ships
only. The corvette remained at anchor near a charming island,
wooded from base
to summit.
Le
Tardif
and Le
Déroulède arrived on the 25th before
the port of Seoul without having been seriously troubled by
the population.
However we had to overcome great obstacles, and strandings
were not lacking.
But the reward for all the efforts it took and the energy that
was spent was a
fine one; for the first time, European ships were anchored
before the third
capital of the Far East.
Some junks, that had to
be dispersed by canonfire,
tried to block the passage of our ships just as they were
reaching their goal.
Following this, a mandarin who was called "the People's
Friend"
brought aboard the Déroulède
a message
having no official character. The tone of this document seemed
fairly typical,
here is the translation:
“Now that you have seen
the river and mountains of
this small, insignificant kingdom, have the goodness to go.
All the people will
be happy. However, if as you cast a last look at us, you were
to to remove all
suspicion and doubt from our hearts, you would make us very
happy. We dare a
thousand times, ten thousand times, implore you, and we hope
you will grant our
prayer."
This humble petition
suggested a great terror among
the population, and probably among the government. We
reassured the Mandarin,
and the ships only made a short stay there, during which they
took bearings and
soundings. It was almost impossible to see the city, distant
from the shore by about
three-quarters of a mile. But with the help of a plan that
later fell into our
hands, together with the stories of missionaries and the view
of the island and
the town of Kang-hoa, it was easy for us to imagine the
appearance of the
capital city.
Seoul is built at the
foot of high mountains, which
can be seen from far out at sea. A wall with nine gates
completely surrounds
the city, through which a small stream flows. The
neighborhood, rectangular in
shape, occupied by the royal palace and government buildings
is separated from
the rest of the city by a wall and a ditch. There alone can be
found a little
luxury; the city as such differs from the wretched Korean
villages uniquely by its
size.
The Déroulède
and the Tardif
slowly made their way down-river,
continuing their operations and collecting hydrographic
observations of all
kinds. Finally, on September 30, the two ships joined the Primaguet, after having been shot at while
passing Kang-Hoa.
During those few days,
the corvette, although it
remained motionless, had also had her adventures. The evening
after it had anchored
in front of the wooded island, she found herself stranded on a
sandbank.
Knowing nothing of the tides, we had dropped anchor with a
bottom of fifteen
meters at high tide, convinced that we were perfectly safe. At
low tide, there remained
only four meters. The sea had dropped eleven meters, a huge
amount, even at the
equinox and with the moon in conjunction, as was the case. The
danger was imminent.
We immediately took steps to support the sides of the
corvette, the yards were
quickly installed as supporting legs, despite the darkness
that made the
operation difficult and dangerous, and lent the scene quite a
dramatic
character. Thanks to the actions of the crew, already trained
by a long
campaign, in this emergency, the grounding had no serious
consequences. The
following high tide allowed the corvette, which looked rather
pathetic with her
rigging and masts bare, to change anchorage. We promised in
future to always
anchor wisely.
On the 25th, a large
junk, roughly constructed and
quite devoid of the elegant originality of Chinese ships,
approached the Primauguet.
It was occupied by a shaky
old mandarin and forty men of the people. As we were not at
open war, everyone
was allowed to climb aboard, with some precautions. While the
natives examined
with naive curiosity the guns, ropes, compasses, and raved
about the size of
the masts, the Mandarin conversed with our commander through a
Chinese cook.
The son of the Celestial Empire, expert at earning extra money
on the side,
knew French. He could therefore translate into his own
language the words of
our Commander and enable the Mandarin to understand them by
writing them down.
The Chinese ideographic characters are understood by almost
all the peoples of
the Far East. With this system, five hundred million people,
of various races
and nationalities, speaking absolutely different languages
can understand each
other.
To return to the
Mandarin, after an initial exchange
of compliments, he insisted on knowing why we had come to
Korea. The reply was that
we had only come to observe an eclipse of the moon which was,
in fact, due to occur
in a few days. He did not seem satisfied with this answer. We
tried in vain to make
him relax by taking him on a visit of the ship. The engine,
however, did attract
his attention, and he asked how many men it took to make it
turn; we simply could
not, despite commendable efforts, make him understand that
compressed steam
produces an enormous force, which effectively replaces human
arms. Science is
not always easy to popularize, even for mandarins.
Every day, the Koreans
returned, and, seeing that we
did them no harm, they lost all shyness and revealed numerous
gaps resulting
from a neglected education. Their manners, indeed, are as far
from the dignified
and exquisite politeness of the Japanese as from Chinese
subservience; they are
coarse, inquisitive and very dirty. However, they had the good
idea of giving
us presents, among other things some huge fans worthy of
Gargantua, and a bull
that we had all the trouble in the world to hoist aboard. We
tried to offer
money in exchange for these gifts, but it was refused
outright. It was during
these few days at anchor that I had the best opportunity to
examine our future
enemies. I saw them every day, sometimes on board, sometimes
on land, as they
looked curiously and stared with a mixture of fear and greed
at the instruments
which I used for hydrographic surveys.
Koreans form a
particular branch of the Mongolian
race. They most strongly resemble the Tartars; like them, they
have flattened
noses, high cheekbones, slightly slanted eyes, yellow skin and
very black hair.
They are generally large and very strong. Their extreme
agility is due to their
habit of running in the mountains, something they are
particularly fond of, and
they often meet on top of hills. We had several proofs of this
agility in the battles
that took place later. Their character is gentle and their
minds are but
slightly cultivated, though almost all can read and write.
They live very
modestly, feeding mainly on rice, which they grow in large
quantities, with
salted or dried fish. Their dress is, for the men of the
people, uniformly
composed of loose trousers tied above the ankle, and a long
robe with wide sleeves
and tight around the waist. These garments are made of white
cotton, produced
in the country. The hair of married men is drawn up onto the
top of the head and
twisted into a top-knot which is held in place by a head-band
of very thin strips
of bamboo, similar to horsehair. A large hat, also made of
bamboo, rests on top
of the head, which cannot fit into it, and is fastened with a
ribbon under the
chin; the young unmarried men have their hair woven in a long
pigtail, like the
Chinese, but they do not shave their heads. The shoes are
sometimes of straw,
sometimes of rope, they are finished at the front with a small
pointed beak, of
a rather graceful design. The mandarins and nobles alone have
the right to wear
color, and silk is also reserved for them. Women also use
silk, especially for the
short jackets with narrow sleeves that go over the dresses.
The fair sex of
Korea has the good sense not to mutilate their feet. The
hairstyle they have
adopted is not lacking in originality: it consists in
separating the hair
behind two into two large tresses which are rolled turban-wise
around the head.
Pins, with heads of gold or enameled silver, hold the hair in
place and decorate
it.
The condition of the
women is happier in Korea than
in China: they have a certain freedom, which it is claimed
they also readily
abuse.
Buddhism is widespread
in Korea, but temples are
much rarer than in the neighboring countries. Throughout our
stay, we saw two
pagodas, very simple in appearance, while in China and Japan
you cannot take a
step without seeing a place of worship.
The social organization
of Korea seems to be a
mixture of Chinese institutions and Japanese institutions. The
hereditary
nobility enjoy certain undeserved privileges, it seems, and
the administrative
and military hierarchy is recruited by examination. We do not
know how these
two institutions can walk side by side, but it seems, a priori, that this situation should give rise
to many conflicts.
Wealth does not always accompany nobility; it is possible to
find, they say,
more than one descendant of ancient and illustrious race who
has no other
resource than a kind of brigandry, toward which people are
very indulgent, since
manual labor would absolutely dishonor a nobleman. Two parties
which bear the
names of Sipai and Piok-pai, and correspond in some very
slight way, it goes
without saying, to our Liberal and Conservative parties, fight
constantly for influence.
In recent years, the Piok-pai have had the upper hand.
On October 3 in the
morning, the three ships that
had been detached from the squadron rejoined it at Che-foo,
after a very bold
and most successful exploration. Eight days later, the whole
squadron, consisting
of seven ships, set off, and arrived on the 3rd [sic], without
accident, at the small
wooded island which was mentioned earlier. The final
preparations were made. The
next day, the four light vessels, pulling smaller boats
carrying landing parties,
entered the Salt River. For the second time, Koreans in white
robes gathered on
the hills; a great agitation prevailed among them, and with
good reason. We
only stopped at the village of Kak-Kodji, the port of
Kang-hoa, located close
to the place where the Han Kang divides.
The Salt River has an
average width of one thousand
meters. It is dotted with shoals and rocks, and forms several
bends, one of
which is sharp enough to present serious difficulties of
navigation; the
current is generally very strong.
The western bank, which
belongs to the island of
Kang-hoa, is lined from one end to the other by a crenellated
wall flanked by
small forts usually built on hillocks. Well defended, this
passage would be
very difficult to force. Moreover, thereafter, the large
number of
fortifications, gun-powder magazines and stocks of arms we saw
on the island proved
that it had played a significant role in the military history
of Korea. The
country's government has never been stingy when it came to
defense. Thus the
left bank of the Hap-nok-kang is covered with forts for fifty
leagues. The same
is true for the south-east coast facing Japan that has been
for so long the
scene of many bloody battles.
A mandarin tried to ward
off the landing by imploring
gestures, in vain, and it took place without meeting any
resistance from the Koreans.
They fled, abandoning their homes, their livestock and the
greater part of
their wealth. Shortly after the installation of the sailors in
the village of
Kak-Kodji a palanquin surrounded by a dozen men came to the
outposts. They led
the whole procession to the admiral. An old chief then emerged
from the
palanquin and spread himself in recriminations; he almost had
to be driven away
by force. I could not help laughing at the strange headgear
adopted by the men
of the escort to protect themselves from the rain that was
falling in torrents.
On top of their ordinary hat rested a huge cone of oiled
paper, under which their
head disappeared completely. If I had a moment of gaiety in
front of this
fashion, so new to me, I do not mean to blame it, because it
seems very
practical. When the weather is fine, you keep the cone of
paper folded in a
pocket, then when it rains, you spread it over your hat
without more ado. This
system is certainly simpler than ours.
The houses, when we took
possession of them, were unimaginably
dirty; to make them habitable, it took work that recalled to
our classical
minds Hercules in the Augean stables. But we were not able at
first to expel
the very many parasites that live at the expense of the
Koreans. During the
first few nights we spent in the village, those invincible
insects undertook to
avenge their rightful owners.
The village of Kak-Kodji
occupies the base of a
small cluster of hills, of which the side facing the river is
covered with a
very beautiful pine forest. At the very foot of the forest, in
a most
picturesque situation, rises a pagoda surrounded by warehouses
that at the time
of our arrival, contained powder and a large quantity of
weapons. The pagoda
was unremarkable externally and within no different from what
we see in China: the
same statue of Buddha in gilded wood, the same altar
overloaded with ornaments
of questionable taste, the same vases filled with huge
artificial flowers, in a
word, no clues that would suggest essential differences in
worship. I found, however,
in the temple an interesting object: it was a large painting
on silk measuring
about two meters fifty centimeters on each side. In the
center, a seated Buddha
was represented seated in oriental style on a lotus flower,
with a nimbus round
his head, of a very pure type, a large circle framed the body,
which was tastefully
draped in a red robe exposing a part of the chest and all the
right arm. Around
this main figure were grouped symbolically the busts of some
forty characters,
also adorned with a nimbus and probably famous in the annals
of Buddhism. The heads,
some of which wore a kind of miter-shaped headdress, were
painted with
meticulous care and did not lack character. Their expressions
were very varied,
from extreme ferocity to extreme softness. In sum, this
painting was one of the
finest I have seen in the Far East. It would have been
interesting to have some
certain information about its provenance, for the scarcity and
the coarseness
of paintings and sculptures in Korea leads one to believe that
art here is far
from having reached the level of relative perfection found in
the neighboring
countries. Not far from the pagoda, the defensive wall along
the shore is
interrupted by a masonry gate, surmounted by a wooden pavilion
serving as a
guard-room. On the mainland opposite rises a similar
construction surrounded by
a few cottages. The two gates give passage to the road that
connects the city
of Seoul with Kang-hoa. Apart from its layout, which leaves
much to be desired
in that it attacks obstacles too frankly, this road is not a
bad one. It is
good evidence that relations between the two towns are
significant, which also
reflects the extreme fertility of the island.
From the top of the hill
above Kak-Kodji, which we
named the "mountain of the philosopher," because a native
braver than
the others continued to live there despite our presence, the
view was magnificent,
especially in the morning. While the camp came alive and blue
smoke rose
straight into the air, beautiful fields of rice, wheat, corn
and turnips,
strewn with clumps of trees and hamlets, gradually emerged
from the shadows. The
divisions between the fields, consisting of small dikes oddly
curved and entangled
without any order, made the plain look like a children’s
puzzle and relieved it
of the monotony inspired by straight lines. Beyond the plain,
we could see the
walls of Kang-hoa, partially hidden by a rise in the ground.
Finally, mountains
with strongly accented outlines and misty valleys composed the
background of
the picture with a warm and pleasant tone.
Kak-Kodji is surrounded
by tombs; the hillside is
almost covered with them. Most are simple unadorned tumuli,
but inside small groves
of oak and chestnut we often discovered larger tombs, covering
the remains of
mandarins or nobles. Koreans, like their neighbors of the
Celestial Empire, have
deep respect for graves. This respect for the repose of the
dead, which in the
end takes up a lot of ground, is doubly meritorious in a
people so given to
farming. Work in the fields seems to be in great honor among
Koreans. Farms are
numerous and well appointed. I saw many and they were almost
all well arranged.
Four main thatched buildings of adobe are arranged around a
courtyard,
sometimes surrounded by a veranda sheltering the implements.
Beside the gate
are the mill, agricultural implements and stables containing
cattle, donkeys
and pigs of a particular breed. The main building at the back
is reserved for the
owners. It is divided into two or three rooms by partitions of
hard paper
stretched over a wooden frame. Windows, small and low, are
also covered with paper.
The kitchen is located at the end of this building, the
hearth, of considerable
size, holds large pots of bronze; the smoke, instead of
escaping through a
vertical chimney, passes through horizontal pipes that pass
under the hard
earth floor of the rooms and exits through a small chimney
rising at the other
end of the building. This arrangement, which is also found in
the province of
Pe-chi-li, is an economical means of heating that is quite
efficient. We were
glad of it for, once October came, the temperatures dropped as
low as three
degrees.
The buildings along the
sides contain the harvested
grain, other supplies and a space for weaving. Often, a second
courtyard
surrounded by a wall contains very large pots filled with
various provisions,
among which we mention particularly cabbage and turnips which
have begun to ferment.
Koreans, who, like most Oriental peoples, mainly eat rice
cooked in water, feel
the need to season this bland food with fermented foods and
condiments with very
strong tastes; chili is consumed in great quantities. Rapeseed
oil, which is
found in abundance in all the houses, serves both for lighting
and the
preparation of food, which does not help make Korean cuisine
very attractive
for Europeans.
On October 16 the town
of Kang-hoa was taken,
despite the many banners with vibrant colors that adorned the
walls and were
intended to fill us with terror. Some soldiers were killed at
their posts, but
most of the inhabitants had fled and no woman had remained in
the city. Only
old men, perhaps rightly counting on the prestige of their
white hair or maybe
unable to flee, were still in the city that had been terrified
by the approach
of the barbarians. The first glimpse of Kang-hoa surprised and
charmed me with
its originality; thatched roofs washed by the rain shone like
silver in the sun
and contrasted sharply with the reds of the public buildings
and the colors of
fields and trees. Mountains, arid but very beautifully shaped,
stood out
against the blue sky with warm, delicate tones while on the
other side,
appeared the dark blue horizon of the sea
The town counts fifteen
or twenty thousand inhabitants.
The walls, four to five meters high, extend for over eight
kilometers. In the
interior of the enclosure is, in addition to the town itself,
a fairly large
area of cultivated land that would allow people to eat during
a long siege. The
northern part of the enclosure, which is on a steep slope, is
occupied by the
yamoun of the governor and the government buildings.
The yamoun dominates the
rest; it consists of
several buildings separated from one other and separated by
really English-style
gardens, decorated with small pavilions. The buildings are
elegant and of very
pleasant appearance; curved roofs of gray, varnished tiles
replace the thatch
of the poor; wood, decorated and painted in red, takes the
place of adobe and the
foundations are of beautiful stone, while the interior is
decorated with
paintings and sculptures; mats of extreme delicacy and
exquisite workmanship
cover the floors. Furniture is rare and does not correspond to
what we would
expect to find in a palace; however we noticed an abundance of
objects and
vases of the finest bronze. Cleanliness was here, if not
perfect, at least
passable.
Below the yamoun, a
series of long buildings, some
built of stone and others of wood, served as government
stores. It is
impossible to enumerate all they contained at the time they
were taken. In
addition to a huge quantity of weapons, breech-loading guns,
matchlocks,
spears, axes, bows, armor; in addition to gunpowder and the
candles which seem
to be a monopoly, irons, etc. etc., we found many books and a
huge supply of
paper. Most of the books, some of which are adorned with
remarkable paintings,
are now in the National Library in Paris. They are almost all
written in
Chinese characters, although the Korean language has a
specific notation, which
forms a true alphabet, a feature that is not found in any
other country in the
Far East. As for the mulberry paper, which in Korea as in
Japan serves an
infinite number of uses, it was of an extraordinarily
beautiful and strong
quality. One could, by twisting a small strip of it, produce a
strong thread.
The huge amount of things necessary for life found in these
stores suggests
that the government is the largest merchant in the country,
which certainly does
not benefit the people.
In the middle of the
city opens a large square, beyond
which is a sort of covered market. A jumble of narrow streets
lined with huts of
uniform appearance extends all around the square. What stands
out above all is
the lack of shops. None of these strongly colored hanging
signs that give
Chinese streets so lively and pleasant a look, none of these
floating fabrics
covered with large characters, such as we see in Japan. Here
everything is dull;
every door resembles the next and a stranger can find no
landmark to guide him
in the maze. All the houses look sad, which is depressing; as
in the
countryside, they are built of mud and thatched, but they are
dilapidated and
dirty. Life, having deserted the streets, has taken refuge
inside: there, indeed,
there are store-rooms, workshops and apartments pleasing in
appearance. The
rooms reserved for women are the object of special care, some
are real
boudoirs: we could see lacquer furniture, fine mats, screens
decorated with
paintings, pieces of cloth, pots of face-cream and make-up,
and finally, shall I
say it? false hair. Nothing was lacking to prove that feminine
coquetry is
flourishing in the peninsula.
A fact that one cannot
help but admire throughout
the Far East, one which does not flatter our self-esteem, is
the presence of
books in even the poorest homes. Those who cannot read are
very rare, and incur
the scorn of their fellow citizens. We would have a lot of
people to despise in
France if public opinion against the illiterate were as severe
here.
Kang-hoa is completely
devoid of serious industry.
We saw a few looms for weaving cotton, but so few in number,
that they must
barely be sufficient for the needs of the inhabitants.
South of the town, a
mandarin’s house, built on a
low hill, attracted my attention by its beautiful location and
the luxury of
its apartments. Silk, furs, lacquers, bronzes, porcelains, in
a word all the objects
so desired by Europeans filled this house, the wealth of which
contrasted
painfully with the uniform poverty of the cottages of the
ordinary people.
Should we conclude from this contrast that the ordinary Korean
mortal has
little right, or at least little power to achieve wealth? I am
all the more
inclined to believe it is so since the stories of missionaries
confirm this
assumption, and what is happening in the Middle Kingdom is
very likely to occur
also in Korea. Greed is the dominant fault of mandarins.
An immense number of
bronze vessels, of the most
charming color and with an incomparable sound, were to be
found everywhere in
the town, the most miserable huts possessed some. These vases,
some of which were
very large, almost all in the form of bowls, serve an infinite
number of uses.
The profusion of such rare material shows that Korea has great
mineral wealth. If
with the aid of only the very primitive metallurgical
processes probably used
by the natives it is possible to produce such an amount of
metal at a price
affordable for everyone, the ore must be wonderfully rich and
abundant. Thus it
seems certain that in the commercial relationships that are
bound to be
established one day between the European nations and the
people of Korea, the
export of metals will hold a high place.
On October 18, a high
mandarin of the Seoul court
presented the Commander in Chief with a letter from the king.
I transcribe the
translation of this document, which does not seem completely
devoid of common
sense, but where the king is rather inclined to flatter
himself:
“Whoever denies the
divine law must die.
“Whoever denies the law
of his country deserves to
be beheaded.
“Heaven has created
people so that they obey reason.
“The country is
separated by borders and protected
by law.
“Who should we obey?
Justice, without any
restriction. The man who violates it does not deserve
forgiveness. I conclude
that we must remove whoever denies it, decapitate whoever
violates it.
“In all ages, relations
with neighbors and
assistance given to travelers were traditional. In our
kingdom, we show even more
thoughtfulness and kindness. Often sailors knowing nothing of
the situation or
name of our country reach our shores. Then the mandarins of
our cities receive
orders to welcome them with kindness. We ask if they come with
peaceful
intentions; we give food to the hungry, clothes to the naked,
and heal the
sick. This is the rule that has been followed in our kingdom,
without ever suffering
any infraction. Therefore Korea is, in the eyes of everyone, a
realm of justice
and civilization. But if there are men who come to seduce our
subjects, enter the
country secretly, change their clothes
and study our language, men who demoralize our people and
overturn our morals,
then the ancient law of the world requires that they be put
them to death. Such
is the rule for all realms, for all empires. So why do you
make such a fuss,
since we have always observed it? Is it not enough that we do
not ask the
reasons which brought you here from distant countries?
“You establish
yourselves on our soil as if it were
yours, and in so doing you violate reason in a horrible way.
When your ships
sailed up the imperial river some time ago, there were only
two of them, the men
on them were not more than a thousand. If we had wanted to
destroy them did we not
have weapons? But, because of the kindness and respect that we
owe to
foreigners, we did not allow anyone to do them wrong or show
them hostility.
“Thus, crossing our
borders, they took or accepted
as they wished cattle or chickens, they came and went in
boats, they were
questioned in polite terms. They were given gifts without
being troubled in any
way. Therefore, you show yourselves ungrateful toward us,
whilst I am not so
toward you. As if that were not enough, you were obliged to
sail away, and your
return is unseemly. This time you loot my cities, you kill my
people, you
destroy my property and my livestock. We have never seen
heaven and its laws
violated in a more serious manner. In addition, it is said
that you want to
spread your religion in my kingdom. This is wrong. Different
books have their own
various special expressions that present what is true and
false. What harm is
there if I follow my religion, and you yours? If it is
reprehensible to deny one’s
ancestors, why have you come to teach us to abandon our own
and take foreigner
ones? If men who teach such things should not be put to death,
we would do
better to deny Heaven.
“I treat you as Yu and
Tan treated the impious Kopey
and you rebel like Nysean-yean toward Tcheou-ouen. Though I
dare not compare
myself to these famous kings, nonetheless my magnanimity
cannot be ignored.
“You now show yourself
here with a large army, as if
you were the instrument of divine justice. Come to the court,
let us have an
interview, and we will decide if it will be necessary to raise
troops or send
them home, to attempt victory or defeat. Do not run away: bow
down and obey!
“The fifth year of the
reign of Tung-tchy, the ninth
moon, the eleventh day.”
In writing this letter,
the regent had forgotten the
shots fired against the Tardif
and Déroulède;
he had also forgotten a much
more serious fact: the massacre of the crew of an innocent
American schooner,
which had occurred a few months before.
The bearer of the royal
message was very well turned
out. He was richly dressed in silk; a large felt hat trimmed
with peacock
feathers and held in place by a sort of rosary of resinous
balls alternately
black and white, covered his head; his face was quite
distinguished. Funnel
boots, as worn in the reign of Louis XIII, and a large
long-handled sword,
completed this costume, which was really very elegant. The too
great
familiarity with which this person treated a young sailor drew
a very sharp
correction, and proved at the same time that good education is
decidedly not a Korean
characteristic, even in the higher classes.
After the departure of
the mandarin, who brought his
master an unfavorable response, several engagements took place
with the Korean
troops. They conducted themselves well, giving proof of
military skill and some
courage. In these battles we could see that bows, spears and
clubs, although
found in large quantities in the stores of Kang-hoa, are no
longer in use and
have been completely replaced by the matchlock. This weapon,
ending in a butt
too small to support on the shoulder, is difficult to handle;
the one shooting
must have a parapet, an embrasure, or in open country, the
shoulder of another
man to support his weapon and give it a proper direction.
Korean guns are far
from being threatening, and if their shots reach the goal, it
is quite by
accident. Some soldiers were wearing armor. Composed of an
iron helmet with a red
plume, the arms and thighs protected by chainmail, and finally
a large doubled garment
made of overlapping pieces of boiled leather joined by large
nails, these coats
of armor are unable to withstand bullets.
The landing corps
occupied Kang-hoa and Kak-Kodji
until November 11. The leisure time left to us after our
service was generally
devoted to hunting. Game is respected by the natives, who do
not care much to
eat it, and it is, therefore, very abundant. Pheasants, geese,
wild ducks,
teals, plovers, pigeons, etc., followed one another on our
tables, little
accustomed to such luxury. Furred game is, it seems quite
rare, and I do not think
that during our stay a single hare was sighted. In the
mountains of the east
there are wolves, foxes, bears and tigers whose skins are very
famous in China.
Skilled hunters, despite the imperfection of their weapons,
carry on a
successful war with these ferocious animals, whose remains
mainly feed the export
trade.
I will long remember
with pleasure these excursions
on the island of Kang-hoa. The weather was always splendid,
the air was lightly
charged with mist, and a beautiful light flooded across the
fields and woods, where
the breeze carried away the yellow leaves. Nothing else very
new offered itself
to my eyes; the houses were all alike, the people too, at
least on the outside,
and I was not able to penetrate their character, which seems
gentle. These poor
people, once they had recovered from the first terror inspired
by our landing,
gradually resumed their agricultural work; when we encountered
them, busy
cutting rice or piling it in great stacks, they prostrated
themselves as we
passed; if we entered an inhabited house, we were quickly
offered caquis [* A fruit
very abundant in Japan and Korea, with the taste of figs, and
the appearance of
a small apple] and excellent fresh water with the same display
of deep, over-deep
respect. It was easy to see, indeed, that these expressions
were due to fear.
While telling ourselves that we should take into account a
difference of
customs and not be surprised by these genuflections that were
probably offered
to any mandarin, we could not help but be painfully affected
by such servility.
On November 22nd, the
squadron of China and Japan
finally left the coast of Korea and each ship returned to its
particular
station. The result we had hoped for the expedition had not
been achieved, and a
renewal of persecution against the Christians coincided with
the departure of
the squadron, and the Korean government broadcast a
declaration rejecting and
cursing any attempt to compromise with the European invasion.
We could see that
we had not been fortunate enough to make ourselves loved
during our stay. Too
often Europe shows itself for the first time to foreign
nations with a character
of violence and despotic pretensions. So long as a country has
not been blessed
with electric telegraphs, and the principles of its
civilization differ from
ours, we feel authorized to violate at its expense all the
rules of human
rights. It is especially painful to be brought to shed blood
in the name of
pure and lofty doctrines which, by their nature, should never
require the use of
that sad and questionable means of persuasion known as
"force."
Come what may, in the
present state of affairs Korea
cannot long delay opening, voluntarily or under duress, to
Western trade. Its
position between two countries whose relations extend further
every day and that
seem to have finally abandoned the system of exclusion, make
it almost a
necessity. It is difficult for those of delicate feelings with
a taste for art
and variety, not to experience first and foremost, before any
other reflection,
a certain regret on seeing European influences of every kind
penetrating
everywhere. Surely civilization and science have everything to
gain, but at the
same time the character of the people disappears and their
originality is lost.
Are not Japanese nobles already dressing up in trousers and
coats!
There is, no doubt,
still a long way to go before
uniformity reigns on earth, and unexplored lands are still
numerous enough to
fulfill all the desires of travelers. So let us leave aside
these vain regrets
of men of imagination and express a hope that France,
renouncing too
disinterested a role, will take a larger share of the European
commercial
movement which tends every day to spread further over the
world.