대한제국멸망사
Homer B. Hulbert
New York 1906
PREFACE
MANY excellent books have been written about Korea, each of them approaching the subject from a slightly different angle. In the present volume I have attempted to handle the theme from a more intimate standpoint than that of the casual tourist.
Much that is contained in this present volume is matter that has
come under the writer's personal observation or has been derived
directly from Koreans or from Korean works. Some of this matter
has already appeared in The Korea Review and elsewhere. The
historical survey is a condensation from the writer's " History of
Korea. "
This book is a labour of love, undertaken in the days of Korea's
distress, with the purpose of interesting the reading public in a
country and a people that have been frequently maligned and sel-
dom appreciated. They are overshadowed by China on the one
hand in respect of numbers, and by Japan on the other in respect
of wit. They are neither good merchants like the one nor good
fighters like the other, and yet they are far more like Anglo-Saxons
in temperament than either, and they are by far the pleasantest
people in the Far East to live amongst. Their failings are such as
follow in the wake of ignorance everywhere, and the bettering of
their opportunities will bring swift betterment to their condition.
For aid in the compilation of this book my thanks are mainly
due to a host of kindly Koreans from every class in society, from
the silk-clad yangban to the fettered criminal in prison, from the
men who go up the mountains to monasteries to those who go
down to the sea in ships.
H. B. H.
NEW YORK, 1906.
INTRODUCTORY
THE PROBLEM
There is a peculiar pathos in the extinction of a nation. Especially is this true when the nation is one whose history stretches back into the dim cen- turies until it becomes lost in a labyrinth of myth and legend ; a nation which has played an important part in the moulding of other nations and which is filled with monuments of past achievements. Kija, the founder of Korean civilisation, flourished before the reign of David in Jerusalem. In the fifth century after Christ, Korea enjoyed a high degree of civilisa- tion, and was the repository from which the half-savage tribes of Japan drew their first impetus toward culture. As time went on Japan was so fortunate as to become split up into numerous semi-independent baronies, each under the control of a so-called Daimyo or feudal baron. This resulted, as feudalism every- where has done, in the development of an intense personal loyalty to an overlord, which is impossible in a large state. If one were to examine the condition of European states to-day, he would find that they are enlightened just in proportion as the feudal idea was worked out to its ultimate issues, and wherever, as in southern Europe, the centrifugal power of feudalism was checked by the centripetal power of ecclesiasticism one finds a lower grade of enlightenment, education and genuine liberty. In other words, the feudal system is a chrysalis state from which a people are prepared to leap into the full light of free self- government. Neither China nor Korea has enjoyed that state, and it is therefore manifestly impossible for them to effect any such startling change as that which transformed Japan in a single decade from a cruel and bigoted exclusiveness to an open and enthusiastic world-life. Instead of bursting forth full- winged from a cocoon, both China and Korea must be incu- bated like an egg.
It is worth while asking whether the ultimate results of a
slow and laborious process. like this may not in the end bring
forth a product superior in essential respects to that which fol-
lows the almost magical rise of modern Japan; or, to carry
out the metaphor, whether the product of an egg is not likely
to be of greater value than that of a cocoon. In order to a
clear understanding of the situation it will be necessary to fol-
low out this question to a definite answer. The world has been
held entranced by the splendid military and naval achievements
of Japan, and it is only natural that her signal capacity in war
should have argued a like capacity along all lines. This has
led to various forms of exaggeration, and it becomes the Ameri-
can citizen to ask the question just what part Japan is likely to
play in the development of the Far East. One must study the
factors of the problem in a judicial spirit if he would arrive at
the correct answer. The bearing which this has upon Korea
will appear in due course.
When in 1868 the power of the Mikado or Emperor of
Japan had been vindicated in a sanguinary war against many
of the feudal barons, the Shogunate was done away with once
for all, and the act of centralising the government of Japan
was complete. But in order to guard against insurrection it
was deemed wise to compel all the barons to take up their resi-
dence in Tokyo, where they could be watched. This necessi-
tated the disbanding of the samurai or retainers of the barons.
These samurai were at once the soldiers and the scholars of
Japan. In one hand they held the sword and in the other a
book; not as in medieval Europe, where the knights could but
rarely read and write and where literature was almost wholly
confined to the monasteries. This concentration of physical and
intellectual power in the single class called samurai gave them
far greater prestige among the people at large than was ever
enjoyed by any set of men in any other land, and it conse-
quently caused a wider gulf between the upper and lower classes
than elsewhere, for the samurai shared with no one the fear and
the admiration of the common people. The lower classes cringed
before them as they passed, and a samurai could wantonly kill
a man of low degree almost without fear of consequences.
When the barons were called up to Tokyo, the samurai were
disbanded and were forbidden to wear the two swords which
had always been their badge of office. This brought them face
to face with the danger of falling to the ranks of the lower
people, a fate that was all the more terrible because of the absurd
height to which in their pride they had elevated themselves.
At this precise juncture they were given a glimpse of the
West, with its higher civilisation and its more carefully articu-
lated system of political and social life. With the very genius
of despair they grasped the fact that if Japan should adopt the
system of the West all government positions, whether diplo-
matic, consular, constabulary, financial, educational or judicial,
whether military or civil, would naturally fall to them, and thus
they would be saved from falling to the plane of the common
people. Here, stripped of all its glamour of romance, is the
vital underlying cause of Japan's wonderful metamorphosis.
With a very few significant exceptions it was a purely selfish
movement, conceived in the interests of caste distinction and
propagated in anything but an altruistic spirit. The central
government gladly seconded this proposition, for it immediately
obviated the danger of constant disaffection and rebellion and
welded the state together as nothing else could have done. The
personal fealty which the samurai had reposed in his overlord
was transferred, almost intact, to the central government, and
to-day constitutes a species of national pride which, in the
absence of the finer quality, constitutes the Japanese form of
patriotism.
From that day to this the wide distinction between the upper
and lower classes in Japan has been maintained. In spite of
the fact of so-called popular or representative government, there
can be no doubt that class distinctions are more vitally active
in Japan than in China, and there is a wider social gap between
them than anywhere else in the Far East, with the exception of
India, where Brahmanism has accentuated caste. The reason
for this lies deep in the Japanese character. When he adopted
Western methods, it was in a purely utilitarian spirit. He gave
no thought to the principles on which our civilisation is based.
It was the finished product he was after and not the process.
He judged, and rightly, that energy and determination were
sufficient to the donning of the habiliments of the West, and he
paid no attention to the forces by which those habiliments were
shaped and fitted. The position of woman has experienced no
change at all commensurate with Japan's material transforma-
tion. Religion in the broadest sense is less in evidence than
before the change, for, although the intellectual stimulus of
the West has freed the upper classes from the inanities of the
Buddhistic cult, comparatively few of them have consented to
accept the substitute. Christianity has made smaller advances
in Japan than in Korea herself, and everything goes to prove
that Japan, instead of digging until she struck the spring of
Western culture, merely built a cistern in which she stored up
some of its more obvious and tangible results. This is shown
in the impatience with which many of the best Japanese regard
the present failure to amalgamate the borrowed product with
the real underlying genius of Japanese life. It is one constant
and growing incongruity. And, indeed, if we look at it ration-
ally, would it not be a doubtful compliment to Western culture
if a nation like Japan could absorb its intrinsic worth and enjoy
its essential quality without passing through the long-centuried
struggle through which we ourselves have attained to it? No
more can we enter into the subtleties of an Oriental cult by a
quick though intense study of its tenets. The self-conscious
babblings of a Madam Blavatsky can be no less ludicrous to
an Oriental Pundit than are the efforts of Japan to vindicate
her claim to Western culture without passing through the fur-
nace which made that culture sterling.
The highest praise must be accorded to the earnestness and
devotion of Christian missionaries in Japan, but it is a fact deeply
to be regretted that the results of their work are so closely con-
fined to the upper classes. This fact throws light upon the state-
ment that there is a great gap between the upper and lower classes
there. Even as we are writing, word comes from a keenly observ-
ant traveller in Japan that everywhere the Buddhist temples
are undergoing repairs.
It is difficult to foresee what the resultant civilisation of
Japan will be. There is nothing final as yet, nor have the con-
flicting forces indicated along what definite lines the intense
nationalism of the Japanese will develop.
But let us look at the other side of the picture. Here is
China, and with her Korea, for they are essentially one in gen-
eral temper. They cling with intense loyalty to the past They
are thoroughly conservative. Now, how will you explain it?
Some would say that it is pure obstinacy, a wilful blindness,
an intellectual coma, a moral obsession. This is the easiest, and
superficially the most logical, explanation. It saves time and
trouble; and, after all, what does it matter? It matters much
every way. It does not become us to push the momentous
question aside because those people are contemptible. Four
hundred millions are saved from contempt by their very num-
bers. There is an explanation, and a rational one.
One must not forget that these people are possessed of
a social system that has been worked out through long cen-
turies, and to such fine issues that every individual has his
set place and value. The system is comprehensive, consistent
and homogeneous. It differs widely from ours, but has suf-
ficed to hold those peoples together and give them a national
life of wonderful tenacity. There must be something in
the system fundamentally good, or else it would not have held
together for all these centuries with comparatively so little
modification.
We have seen how the Japanese were shaken out of their
long-centuried sleep by a happy combination of circumstances.
There are doubtless possible combinations which might similarly
affect China and Korea, but the difference in temperament
between them and the Japanese renders it highly improbable that
we shall ever see anything so spectacular as that which occurred
in Japan. No two cults were ever more dissimilar than Con-
fucianism and Buddhism; and if we were to condense into a
single sentence the reason why China and Korea can never follow
Japan's example it would be this : that the Chinese and Korean
temperament followed the materialistic bent of Confucianism,
while the Japanese followed the idealistic bent of Buddhism.
Now, what if the West, instead of merely lending its super-
ficial integuments to China and Korea, should leave all the
harmless and inconsequential customs of those lands intact, and
should attempt instead to reach down to some underlying moral
and fundamental principle and begin a transformation from
within, working outward ; if, instead of carrying on campaigns
against pinched feet and infanticide, we should strike straight
at the root of the matter, and by giving them the secret of
Western culture make it possible for them to evolve a new civ-
ilisation embodying all the culture of the West, but expressed
in terms of Oriental life and habit? Here would be an achieve-
ment to be proud of, for it would prove that our culture is
fundamental, and that it does not depend for its vindication
upon the mere vestments of Western life.
And herein lies the pathos of Korea's position; for, lying
as she does in the grip of Japan, she cannot gain from that
power more than that power is capable of giving — nothing
more than the garments of the West. She may learn science
and industrial arts, but she will use them only as a parrot uses
human speech. There are American gentlemen in Korea who
could lead you to country villages in that land where the fetich
shrines have been swept away, where schools and churches have
been built, and where the transforming power of Christianity
has done a fundamental work without touching a single one
of the time-honoured customs of the land; where hard-handed
farmers have begun in the only genuine way to develop the
culture of the West. That culture evinces itself in its ultimate
forms of honesty, sympathy, unselfishness, and not in the use
of a swallow-tail coat and a silk hat. Which, think you, is the
proper way to go about the rehabilitation of the East? The
only yellow peril possible lies in the arming of the Orient with
the thunder-bolts of the West, without at the same time giving
her the moral forces which will restrain her in their use.
The American public has been persistently told that the
Korean people are a degenerate and contemptible nation, in-
capable of better things, intellectually inferior, and better off
under Japanese rule than independent. The following pages
may in some measure answer these charges, which have been
put forth for a specific purpose, — a purpose that came to full
fruition on the night of November 17, 1905, when, at the point of
the sword, Korea was forced to acquiesce " voluntarily " in the
virtual destruction of her independence once for all. The reader
will here find a narrative of the course of events which led up
to this crisis, and the part that different powers, including the
United States, played in the tragedy.
CHAPTER
1. WHERE AND WHAT KOREA IS ABOVE AND BELOW GROUND
NEAR the eastern coast of Asia, at the forty-fourth parallel of latitude, we find a whorl of mountains culminating in a peak which Koreans call White Head Mountain. From this centre mountain ranges radiate in three directions, one of them going southward and forming the backbone of the Korean peninsula. The water- shed is near the eastern coast, and as the range runs southward it gradually diminishes in height until at last.it is lost in the sea, and there, with its base in the water, it lifts its myriad heads to the surface, and confers upon the ruler of Korea the deserved title of " King of Ten Thousand Islands." A very large part of the arable land of Korea lies on its western side; all the long and navigable rivers are there or in the south; almost all the harbours are on the Yellow Sea. For this reason we may say that topographically Korea lies with her face toward China and her back toward Japan. This has had much to do in determining the history of the country. Through all the centuries she has set her face toward the west, and never once, though under the lash of foreign invasion and threatened ex- tinction, has she ever swerved from her allegiance to her Chinese ideal. Lacordaire said of Ireland that she has remained " free by the soul." So it may be said of Korea, that, although forced into Japan's arms, she has remained " Chinese by the soul."
The climate of Korea may be briefly described as the same
as that of the eastern part of the United States between Maine
and South Carolina, with this one difference, that the prevail-
ing southeast summer wind in Korea brings the moisture from
the warm ocean current that strikes Japan from the south, and
precipitates it over almost the whole of Korea; so that there is
a distinct " rainy season " during most of the months of July
and August. This rainy season also has played an important
part in determining Korean history. Unfortunately for navi-
gation, the western side of the peninsula, where most of the
good harbours are found, is visited by very high tides, and
the rapid currents which sweep among the islands make this
the most dangerous portion of the Yellow Sea. On the eastern
coast a cold current flows down from the north, and makes both
summer and winter cooler than on the western side.
Though the surface of Korea is essentially mountainous, it
resembles Japan very little, for the peninsula lies outside the
line of volcanoes which are so characteristic of the island empire.
Many of the Korean mountains are evidently extinct volcanoes,
especially White Head Mountain, in whose extinct crater now
lies a lake. Nor does Korea suffer at all from earthquakes.
The only remnants of volcanic action that survive are the occa-
sional hot springs. The peninsula is built for the most part
on a granite foundation, and the bare hill-tops, which appear
everywhere, and are such an unwelcome contrast to the foliage-
smothered hills of Japan, are due to the disintegration of the
granite and the erosion of the water during the rainy season.
But there is much besides granite in Korea. There are large
sections where slate prevails, and it is in these sections that the
coal deposits are found, both anthracite and bituminous. It is
affirmed by the Korean people that gold is found in every one
of the three hundred and sixty-five prefectures of the country.
This doubtless is an exaggeration, but it is near enough the
truth to indicate that Korea is essentially a granite formation,
for gold is found, of course, only in connection with such for-
mation. Remarkably beautiful sandstones, marbles and other
building stones are met with among the mountains; and one
town in the south is celebrated for its production of rock crystal,
which is used extensively in making spectacle lenses.
The scenery of Korea as witnessed from the deck of a
steamer is very uninviting, and . it is this which has sent so
many travellers home to assert that this country is a barren,
treeless waste. There is no doubt that the scarcity of timber
along most of the beaten highways of Korea is a certain
blemish, though there are trees in moderate number everywhere ;
but this very absence of extensive forests gives to the scenery
a grandeur and repose which is not to be found in Japanese
scenery. The lofty crags that lift their heads three thousand
feet into the air and almost overhang the city of Seoul are
alpine in their grandeur. There is always distance, openness,
sweep to a Korean view which is quite in contrast to the pic-
turesque coziness of almost all Japanese scenery. This, together
with the crystal atmosphere, make Korea, even after only a few
years' residence, a delightful reminiscence. No people surpass
the Koreans in love for and appreciation of beautiful scenery.
Their literature is full of it. Their nature poems are gems in
their way. Volumes have been written describing the beauties
of special scenes, and Korea possesses a geography, nearly five
hundred years old, in which the beauties of each separate pre-
fecture are described in minute detail, so that it constitutes a
complete historical and scenic guide-book of the entire country.
The vegetable life of Korea is like that of other parts of
the temperate zone, but there is a striking preponderance of a
certain kind of pine, the most graceful of its tribe. It forms
a conspicuous element in every scene. The founder of the
dynasty preceding the present one called his capital Song-do,
or Pine Tree Capital. It is a constant theme in Korean art,
and plays an important part in legend and folk-lore in general.
Being an evergreen, it symbolises eternal existence. There are
ten things which Koreans call the chang sang pul sa, or " long-
lived and deathless." They are the pine-tree, tortoise, rock,
stag, cloud, sun, moon, stork, water and a certain moss or
lichen named " the ageless plant." Pine is practically the only
wood used in building either houses, boats, bridges or any other
structure. In poetry and imaginative prose it corresponds to the
oak of Western literature. Next in importance is the bamboo,
which, though growing only in the southern provinces, is used
throughout the land and in almost every conceivable way. The
domestic life of the Korean would be thrown into dire confu-
sion were the bamboo to disappear. Hats are commonly made
of it, and it enters largely, if not exclusively, into the con-
struction of fans, screens, pens, pipes, tub-hoops, flutes, lanterns,
kites, bows and a hundred other articles of daily use. Take
the bamboo out of Korean pictorial art and half the pictures in
the land would be ruined. From its shape it is the symbol of
grace, and from its straightness and the regular occurrence of
its nodes it is the symbol of faithfulness. The willow is one
of the most conspicuous trees, for it usually grows in the vicinity
of towns, where it has been planted by the hand of man. Thus
it becomes the synonym of peace and contentment. The mighty
row of willows near Pyeng-yang in the north is believed to
have been planted by the great sage and coloniser Kija in
1 122 B. c., his purpose being to influence the semi-savage people
by this object-lesson. From that time to this Pyeng-yang has
been known in song and story as " The Willow Capital." As
the pine is the symbol of manly vigour and strength, so the
willow is the synonym of womanly beauty and grace. Willow
wood, because of its lightness, is used largely in making the
clumsy wooden shoes which are worn exclusively in wet weather ;
and chests are made of it when lightness is desirable. The
willow sprays are used in making baskets of all kinds, so that .
this tree is, in many ways, quite indispensable. Another useful
wood is called the paktal. It has been erroneously called the
sandal-wood, which it resembles in no particular. It is very
like the iron-wood of America, and is used in making the
laundering clubs, tool handles, and other utensils which require
great hardness and durability. It was under a paktal-tree that
the fabled sage Tangun was found seated some twenty-three
hundred years before Christ; so it holds a peculiar place in
Korean esteem. As the pine was the dynastic symbol of Koryu,
918-1392, so the plum-tree is the symbol of this present dynasty.
It was chosen because the Chinese character for plum is the
same as that of the family name of the reigning house. It
was for this cogent reason that the last king of the Koryu
dynasty planted plum-trees on the prophetic site of the present
capital, and then destroyed them all, hoping thereby to blight
the prospects of the Yi family, who, prophecy declared, would
become masters of the land.
There are many hard woods in Korea that are used in the
arts and industries of the people. Oak, ginko, elm, beech and
other species are found in considerable numbers, but the best
cabinet woods are imported from China. An important tree,
found mostly in the southern provinces, is the paper-mulberry,
broussonetai papyrifcra, the inner bark of which is used exclu-
sively in making the tough paper used by Koreans in almost
every branch of life. It is celebrated beyond the borders of the
peninsula, and for centuries formed an important item in the
annual tribute to China and in the official exchange of goods
with Japan. It is intrinsically the same as the superb Japanese
paper, though of late years the Japanese have far surpassed
the Koreans in its manufacture. The cedar is not uncommon
in the country, but its wood is used almost exclusively for
incense in the Buddhist monasteries. Box-wood is used for
making seals and in the finer processes of the xylographic art,
but for this latter purpose pear-wood is most commonly
substituted.
Korea is richly endowed with fruits of almost every kind
common to the temperate zone, with the exception of the apple.
Persimmons take a leading place, for this is the one fruit that
grows to greater perfection in this country than in any other
place. They grow to the size of an ordinary apple, and after
the frost has touched them they are a delicacy that might be
sought for in vain on the tables of royalty in the West. The
apricot, while of good flavour, is smaller than the European
or American product. The peaches are of a deep red colour
throughout and are of good size, but are not of superior quality.
Plums are plentiful and of fair quality. A sort of bush cherry
is one of the commonest of Korean fruits, but it is not grown
by grafting and is inferior in every way. Jujubes, pomegran-
ates, crab-apples, pears and grapes are common, but are gen-
erally insipid to Western taste. Foreign apples, grapes, pears,
peaches, strawberries, raspberries, blackberries, currants and
other garden fruits grow to perfection in this soil. As for
nuts, the principal kinds are the so-called English walnuts,
chestnuts and pine nuts. We find also ginko and other nuts,
but they amount to very little.
The question of cereals is, of course, of prime importance.
The Korean people passed immediately from a savage con-
dition to the status of an agricultural community without the
intervention of a pastoral age. They have never known any-
thing about the uses of milk or any of its important products,
excepting as medicine. Even the primitive legends do not ante-
date the institution of agriculture in the peninsula. Rice was
first introduced from China in 1122 u. c., but millet had already
been grown here for many centuries. Rice forms the staple
article of food of the vast majority of the Korean people. In
the northern and eastern provinces the proportion of other
grains is more considerable, and in some few places rice is
hardly eaten at all; but the fact remains that, with the excep-
tion of certain mountainous districts where the construction of
paddy-fields is out of the question, rice is the main article of
food of the whole nation. The history of the introduction
and popularisation of this cereal and the stories and poems that
have been written about it would make a respectable volume.
The Korean language has almost as many synonyms for it as
the Arabic has for horse. It means more to him than roast
beef does to an Englishman, macaroni to an Italian, or potatoes
to an Irishman. There are three kinds of rice in Korea. One
is grown in the water, another in ordinary fields, and another
still on the sides of hills. The last is a smaller and harder
variety, and is much used in stocking military granaries, for it
will last eight or ten years without spoiling. The great enemies
of rice are drought, flood, worms, locusts, blight and wind.
The extreme difficulty of keeping paddy-fields in order in such
a hilly country, the absolute necessity of having rains at a par-
ticular time and of not having it at others, the great labour of
transplanting and constant cultivation, — all these things con-
spire to make the production of rice an incubus upon the Korean
people. Ask a Louisiana rice-planter how he would like to
cultivate the cereal in West Virginia, and you will discover
what it means in Korea. But in spite of all the difficulties,
the Korean clings to his favourite dish, and out of a hundred
men who have saved up a little money ninety-nine will buy
rice-fields as being the safest investment. Korean poetry teems
with allusions to this seemingly prosaic cereal. The following
is a free translation of a poem referring to the different species
of rice:
Was measured out, mile beyond mile afar;
The smiling face which Chosun first upturned
Toward the o'er-arching sky is dimpled still
With that same smile ; and nature's kindly law,
In its unchangeability, rebukes
The fickle fashions of the thing called Man.
The mountain grain retains its ancient shape,
Long-waisted, hard and firm ; the rock-ribbed hills,
On which it grows, both form and fibre yield.
The lowland grain still sucks the fatness up
From the rich fen, and delves for gold wherewith
To deck itself for Autumn's carnival.
Alas for that rude swain who nothing recks
Of nature's law, and casts his seedling grain
Or here or there regardless of its kind.
For him the teeming furrow gapes in vain
And dowers his granaries with emptiness.
To north and south the furrowed mountains stretch,
A wolf gigantic, crouching to his rest.
To east and west the streams, like serpents lithe,
Glide down to seek a home beneath the sea.
The South — warm mother of the race — pours out
Her wealth in billowy floods of grain. The North —
Stern foster-mother — yields her scanty store
By hard compulsion ; makes her children pay
For bread by mintage of their brawn and blood.
Millet is the most ancient form of food known in Korea,
and it still forms the staple in most places where rice will not
grow. There are many varieties of millet, all of which flourish
luxuriantly in every province. It is a supplementary crop, in
that it takes the place of rice when there is a shortage in that
cereal owing to drought or other cause. Barley is of great
importance, because it matures the earliest in the season, and so
helps the people tide over a period of scarcity. A dozen vari-
eties of beans are produced, some of which are eaten in con-
nection with rice, and others are fed to the cattle. Beans form
one of the most important exports of the country. Wheat is
produced in considerable quantities in the northern provinces.
Sesamum, sorghum, oats, buckwheat, linseed, corn and a few
other grains are found, but in comparatively small quantities.
As rice is the national dish, we naturally expect to find
various condiments to go with it. Red-peppers are grown
everywhere, and a heavy kind of lettuce is used in making
the favourite sauerkraut, or kimchi, whose proximity is detected
•without the aid of the eye. Turnips are eaten raw or pickled.
A kind of water-cress called minari plays a secondary part
among the- side dishes. In the summer the people revel in
melons and canteloupes, which they eat entire or imperfectly
peeled, and even the presence of cholera hardly calls a halt to
this dangerous indulgence. Potatoes have long been known to
the Koreans, and in a few mountain sections they form the
staple article of diet. They are of good quality, and are largely
eaten by foreign residents in the peninsula. Onions and garlic
abound, and among the well-to-do mushrooms of several vari-
eties are eaten. Dandelions, spinach and a great variety of
salads help the rice to " go down."
Korea is celebrated throughout the East for its medicinal
plants, among which ginseng, of course, takes the leading place.
The Chinese consider the Korean ginseng far superior to any
other. It is of two kinds, — the mountain ginseng, which is so
rare and precious that the finding of a single root once in
three seasons suffices the finder for a livelihood; and the ordi-
nary cultivated variety, which differs little from that found in
the woods in America. The difference is that in Korea it is
carefully cultivated for six or seven years, and then after being
gathered it is put through a steaming process which gives it
a reddish tinge. This makes it more valuable in Chinese esteem,
and it sells readily at high prices. It is a government monopoly,
and nets something like three hundred thousand yen a year.
Liquorice root, castor beans and scores of other plants that
figure in the Western pharmacopoeia are produced, together
with many that the Westerner would eschew.
The Koreans are great lovers of flowers, though compara-
tively few have the means to indulge this taste. In the spring
the hills blush red with rhododendrons and azaleas, and the
ground in many places is covered with a thick mat of violets.
The latter are called the " savage flower," for the lobe is sup-
posed to resemble the Manchu queue, and to the Korean every
Alanchu is a savage. The wayside bushes are festooned with
clematis and honeysuckle, the alternate white and yellow blossoms
of the latter giving it the name " gold and silver flower." The
lily-of-the-valley grows riotously in the mountain dells, and
daffodils and anemones abound. The commonest garden flower
is the purple iris, and many official compounds have ponds
in which the lotus grows. The people admire branches of
peach, plum, apricot or crab-apple as yet leafless but cov-
ered with pink and white flowers. The pomegranate, snow-
ball, rose, hydrangea, chrysanthemum and many varieties of
lily figure largely among the favourites. It is pathetic to
see in the cramped and unutterably filthy quarters of the
very poor an effort being made to keep at least one plant
alive. There is hardly a hut in Seoul where no flower is
found.
As for animal life, Korea has a generous share. The mag-
nificent bullocks which carry the heavy loads, draw the carts and
pull the ploughs are the most conspicuous. It is singular that
the Koreans have never used milk or any of its products, though
the cow has existed in the peninsula for at least thirty-five
hundred years. This is one of the proofs that the Koreans
have never been a nomadic people. Without his bullock the
farmer would be all at sea. No other animal would be able to
drag a plough through the adhesive mud of a paddy-field. Great
mortality among cattle, due to pleuro-pneumonia, not infre-
quently becomes the main cause of a famine. There are no
oxen in Korea. Most of the work is done with bullocks, which
are governed by a ring through the nose and are seldom
obstreperous. Every road in Korea is rendered picturesque by
long lines of bullocks carrying on their backs huge loads of
fuel in the shape of grass, fagots of wood or else fat bags
of rice and barley. As might be expected, cowhides are an
important article of export.
The Korean pony is unique, at least in Eastern Asia. It
is a little larger than the Shetland pony, but is less heavily
built. Two thousand years ago, it is said, men could ride these
animals under the branches of the fruit trees without lowering
the head. They differ widely from the Manchu or Japanese
horse, and appear to be indigenous — unless we may believe the
legend that when the three sages arose from a fissure in the
ground in the island of Quelpart three thousand years ago,
each of them found a chest floating in from the south and
containing a colt, a calf, a pig, a dog and a wife. The pony
is not used in ploughing or drawing a cart, for it is not heavy
enough for such work, but it is used under the pack and under
the saddle, frequently under both, for often the traveller packs
a huge bundle on the pony and then seats himself on top, so
that the animal forms but a vulgar fraction of the whole
ensemble. Foreigners of good stature frequently have to raise
the feet from the stirrup when riding along stony roads. Yet
these insignificant beasts are tough and long-suffering, and will
carry more than half their own weight thirty-five miles a day,
week in and week out.
As in all Eastern countries, the pig is a ubiquitous social
factor. We use the word " social " advisedly, for in country vil-
lages at least this animal is always visible, and frequently under
foot. It is a small black breed, and is so poorly fed as to have
practically no lateral development, but resembles the " razor-
backs " of the mountain districts of Tennessee. Its attenuated
shape is typical of the concentrated character of its porcine
obstinacy, as evidenced in the fact that the shrewd Korean
farmer prefers to tie up his pig and carry it to market on
his own back rather than drive it on foot.
Korea produces no sheep. The entire absence of this animal,
except as imported for sacrificial purposes, confirms the suppo-
sition that the Koreans have never been a pastoral people.
Foreigners have often wondered why they do not keep sheep
and let them graze on the uncultivable hillsides which form
such a large portion of the area of the country. The answer
is manifold. Tigers, wolves and bears would decimate the
flocks. All arable land is used for growing grain, and what
grass is cut is all consumed as fuel. It would therefore be
impossible to winter the sheep. Furthermore, an expert sheep
man, after examining the grasses common on the Korean hill-
sides, told the writer that sheep could not eat them. The turf
about grave sites and a few other localities would make good
grazing for sheep, but it would be quite insufficient to feed any
considerable number even in summer.
The donkey is a luxury in Korea, being used only by well-
to-do countrymen in travelling. Its bray is out of all propor-
tion to its size, and one really wonders how its frame survives
the wrench of that fearful blast.
Reputable language is hardly adequate to the description of
the Korean dog. No family would be complete without one;
but its bravery varies inversely as the square of its vermin,
which is calculable in no known terms. This dog is a wolfish
breed, but thoroughly domesticated. Almost every house has
a hole in the front door for his accommodation. He will lie
just inside, with his head protruding from the orifice and his
eyes rolling from side to side in the most truculent manner. If
he happens to be outside and you point your finger at him,
he rushes for this hole, and bolts through it at a pace which
seems calculated to tear off all the hair from his prominent
angles. Among certain of the poorer classes the flesh of the
dog is eaten, and we have in mind a certain shop in Seoul
where the purveying of this delicacy is a specialty. We once
shot a dog which entertained peculiar notions about the privacy
of our back yard. The gateman disposed of the remains in a
mysterious manner and then retired on the sick-list for a few
days. When he reappeared at last, with a weak smile on his
face he placed his hand on his stomach and affirmed with evi-
dent conviction that some dogs are too old for any use. But,
on the whole, the Korean dog is cleared of the charge of use-
lessness by the fact that he acts as scavenger in general, and
really does much to keep the city from becoming actually
uninhabitable.
The cat is almost exclusively of the back-fence variety, and
is an incorrigible thief. It is the natural prey of the ubiquitous
dog and the small boy. Our observation leads us to the sad
but necessary conclusion that old age stands at the very bottom
of the list of causes of feline mortality.
So much for domestic animals. Of wild beasts the tiger
takes the lead. The general notion that this animal is found
only in tropical or semi-tropical countries is a mistake. The
colder it is and the deeper the snow, the more he will be in evi-
dence in Korea. Country villages frequently have a tiger trap
of logs at each end of the main street, and in the winter time
these are baited with a live animal, — pig for choice. The tiger
attains a good size, and its hair is thick and long. We have seen
skins eleven and a half feet long, with hair two inches and more
in length. This ugly beast will pass through the streets of a
village at night in the dead of winter, and the people are fortu-
nate if he does not break in a door and carry away a child. No
record is kept of the mortality from this cause, but it is probable
that a score or more of people perish annually in this way.
Legend and story are full of the ravages of the tiger. He is
supposed to be able to imitate the human voice, and thus lure
people out of their houses at night. Koreans account for the
fierceness of his nature by saying that in the very beginning of
things the Divine Being offered a bear and a tiger the opportunity
of becoming men if they would endure certain tests. The bear
passed the examination with flying colours, but the tiger suc-
cumbed to the trial of patience, and so went forth the greatest
enemy of man.
Deer are common throughout the land, and at the proper
season they are eagerly sought for because of their soft horns,
which are considered of great medicinal value. Wealthy Koreans
who are ailing often go among the mountains with the hope of
being in at the death of a young buck, and securing a long
draught of the warm blood, which they look upon as nearly
equivalent to the fountain of eternal youth. The exercise required
for this is in itself enough to make an ill man well, so the fiction
about the blood is not only innocent but valuable.
The bear is found occasionally, but is of a small breed and
does comparatively little damage. The wild boar is a formidable
animal, and is considered fully as dangerous to meet as the tiger,
because it will charge a supposed enemy at sight. We have seen
specimens weighing well toward four hundred pounds and with
formidable tushes. The fox is found in every town and district
in the country. It is the most detested of all things. It is the
epitome of treachery, meanness and sin. The land is full of
stories of evil people who turned out to be foxes in the disguise
of human form. And of all foxes the white one is the worst,
but it is doubtful whether such has ever been seen in Korea. Tra-
dition has no more opprobrious epithet than " fox." Even the
tiger is less dangerous, because less crafty. The wolf is com-
paratively little known, but occasionally news comes from some
distant town that a child has been snatched away by a wolf.
The leopard is another supposedly tropical animal that flour-
ishes in this country. Its skin is more largely used than that
of the tiger, but only officials of high rank are allowed the
luxury.
Among lesser animals are found the badger, hedgehog,
squirrel, wildcat, otter, weasel and sable. The last is highly
prized for its skin, but it is of poorer quality than that of the
Siberian sable. At the same time many handsome specimens
have been picked up here. The Koreans value most highly the
small spot of yellow or saffron that is found under the throat
of the sable. We have seen whole garments made of an almost
countless number of such pieces. Naturally it takes a small for-
tune to acquire one of them.
For its bird life, especially game birds, Korea is deservedly
famous. First comes the huge bustard, which stands about four
feet high and weighs, when dressed, from twenty to thirty
pounds. It is much like the wild turkey, but is larger and gamier.
The beautiful Mongolian pheasant is found everywhere in the
country, and in winter it is so common in the market that it
brings only half the price of a hen. Within an hour of Seoul
one can find excellent pheasant shooting at the proper season.
Ducks of a dozen varieties, geese, swan and other aquatic birds
abound in such numbers that one feels as if he were taxing the
credulity of the reader in describing them. In the winter of 1891
the ducks migrated apparently in one immense flock. Their
approach sounded like the coming of a cyclone, and as they
passed, the sky was completely shut out from view. It would
have been impossible to get a rifle bullet between them. They
do not often migrate this way, but flocks of them can be seen in
all directions at almost any time of day during the season. Even
as we write, information comes that a party of three men
returned from two days' shooting with five hundred and sixty
pounds of birds. Quail, snipe and other small birds are found
in large quantities, but the hunter scorns them in view of the
larger game. Various kinds of storks, cranes and herons find
abundance of food in the flooded paddy-fields, where no one
thinks of disturbing them. One of the sights of Seoul is its airy
scavengers, the hawks, who may be seen sometimes by the score
sailing about over the town. Now and again one of them will
sweep down and seize a piece of meat from a bowl that a woman
is carrying home on her head. It is not uncommon to see small
boys throwing dead mice into the air to see the hawks swoop
down and seize them before they reach the ground.
Korea contains plenty of snakes, but none of them are spe-
cially venomous, although there are some whose bite will cause
considerable irritation. Many snakes live among the tiles of
the roofs, where they subsist on the sparrows that make their
nests under the eaves. These snakes are harmless fellows, and
when you see one hanging down over your front door in the
dusk of evening it should cause no alarm. The people say, and
believe it too, that if a snake lives a thousand years it assumes
a short and thick shape and acquires wings, with which it flies
about with inconceivable rapidity, and is deadly not only because
of its bite, but if a person even feels the wind caused by its light-
ning flash as it speeds by he will instantly die. Formerly,
according to Korean tradition, there were no snakes in Korea;
but when the wicked ruler Prince Yunsan (1495-1506) had
worn himself out with a life of excesses, he desired to try the
effect of keeping a nest of snakes under his bed, for he had heard
that this would restore lost vitality. So he sent a boat to India,
and secured a cargo of selected ophidians, and had them brought
to Korea. The cargo was unloaded at Asan; but it appears
that the stevedores had not been accustomed to handle this kind
of freight, and so a part of the reptiles made their escape into
the woods. From that time; so goes the tale, snakes have existed
here as elsewhere. Unfortunately no one has ever made a study
of serpent worship in Korea, but there appears to be some reason
to believe that there was once such a cult. The Koreans still
speak of the op-kuregi, or " Good Fortune Serpent " ; and as
most of the natives have little other religion than that of praying
to all kinds of spirits for good luck, it can hardly be doubted that
the worship of the serpent in some form has existed in Korea.
Though there are no deadly snakes in the country, there are
insects that annually cause considerable loss of life. The centi-
pede attains a growth of six or seven inches, and a bite from one
of them may prove fatal, if not attended to at once. The Koreans
cut up centipedes and make a deadly drink, which they use, as
hemlock was used in Greece, for executing criminals. This has
now gone out of practice, however, thanks to the enlightening
contact with Westerners, who simply choke a man to death with
a rope ! Among the mountains it is said that a poisonous spider
is found ; but until this is verified we dare not vouch for it.
The tortoise plays an important part in Korean legend and
story. He represents to the Korean mind the principle of healthy
conservatism. He is never in a hurry, and perhaps this is why
the Koreans look upon him with such respect, if not affection.
All animals in Korea are classed as good or bad. We have
already said that the fox is the worst. The tiger, boar, frog and
mouse follow. These are all bad ; but the bear, deer, tortoise,
cow and rabbit are all good animals.
More important than all these, except cattle, are the fish of
Korea. The waters about the peninsula swarm with fish of a
hundred kinds. They are all eaten by the people, even the sharks
and the octopi. The commonest is the ling, which is caught in
enormous numbers off the east coast, and sent all over the country
in the dried form. Various kinds of clams, oysters and shrimps
are common. Whales are so numerous off the eastern coast that
a flourishing Japanese company has been employed in catching
them of late years. Pearl oysters are found in large numbers
along the southern coast, and the pearls would be of considerable
value if the Koreans knew how to abstract them from the shells
in a proper manner.
But fish and pearls are not the only sea-products that the
Korean utilises. Enormous quantities of edible seaweed are
gathered, and the sea-slug, or beche-de-mer, is a particular deli-
cacy. The Koreans make no use of those bizarre dishes for
which the Chinese are so noted, such as birds' nests and the like.
Their only prandial eccentricity is boiled dog, and that is strictly
confined to the lowest classes.
2. THE PEOPLE
study of the origin and the ethnological affinities of the Korean people is yet in its infancy. Not until a close and exhaustive investigation has been made of the monuments, the folk-lore, the language and all the other sources of information can anything be said defi- nitely upon this question. It will be in place, therefore, to give here the tentative results already arrived at, but without dogmatising.
Oppert was the first to note that in Korea there are two types of face, — the one distinctly Mongolian, and the other lacking many of the Mongolian features and tending rather to the Malay type. To the new-comer all Koreans look alike; but long resi- dence among them brings out the individual peculiarities, and one comes to recognise that there are as many kinds of face here as in the West. Dr. Baelz, one of the closest students of Far Eastern physiognomy, recognises the dual nature of the Korean type, and finds in it a remarkable resemblance to a similar feature of the Japanese, among whom we learn that there is a certain class, probably descendants of the ancient Yamato race, which has preserved to a great extent the same non-Mongolian cast of features. This seems to have been overlaid at some later time by a Polynesian stock. The ethnological relation between the non-Mongolian type in Korea and the similar type in Japan is one of the most interesting racial problems of the Far East. I feel sure that it is the infusion of this type into Korea and Japan that has differentiated these peoples so thoroughly from the Chinese.
Five centuries before Christ, northern Korea and southern Korea were very clearly separated. The Kija dynasty in the north had consolidated the people into a more or less homo- geneous state, but this kingdom never extended south further than the Han River. At this time the southern coast of the peninsula was peopled by a race differing in essential particulars from those of the north. Their language, social system, govern- ment, customs, money, ornaments, traditions and religion were all quite distinct from those of the north. Everything points to the belief that they were maritime settlers or colonists, and that they had come to the shores of Korea from the south.
The French missionaries in Korea were the first to note a curious similarity between the Korean language and the lan- guages of the Dravidian peoples of southern India. It is well established that India was formerly inhabited by a race closely allied to the Turanian peoples, and that when the Aryan con- querors swept over India the earlier tribes were either driven in flight across into Burmah and the Malay Peninsula, or were forced to find safety among the mountains in the Deccan. From the Malay Peninsula we may imagine them spreading in various directions. Some went north along the coast, others into the Philippine Islands, then to Formosa, where Mr. Davidson, the best authority, declares tHat the Malay type prevails. The power- ful " Black Current," the Gulf Stream of the Pacific, naturally swept northward those who were shipwrecked. The Liu-Kiu Islands were occupied, and the last wave of this great dispersion broke on the southern shores of Japan and Korea, leaving there the nucleus of those peoples who resemble each other so that if dressed alike they cannot be distinguished as Japanese or Korean even by an expert. The small amount of work that has been so far done indicates a striking resemblance between these south- ern Koreans and the natives of Formosa, and the careful com- parison of the Korean language with that of the Dravidian peoples of southern India reveals such a remarkable similarity, phonetic, etymologic, and syntactic, that one is forced to recognise in it something more than mere coincidence. The endings of many of the names of the ancient colonies in southern Korea are the exact counterpart of Dravidian words meaning " settlement " or " town." The endings -caster and -coin in English are no more evidently from the Latin than these endings in Korea are from the Dravidian.
The early southern Koreans were wont to tattoo their bodies.
The custom has died out, since the more rigorous climate of the
peninsula compels the use of clothing covering the whole body.
The description of the physiological features of those Dravidian
tribes which have suffered the least from intermixture with others
coincides in every particular with the features of the Korean.
Of course it is impossible to go into the argument in cxtenso
here; but the most reasonable conclusion to be arrived at to-day
is that the peninsula of Korea is inhabited by two branches
of the same original family, a part of which came around
China by way of the north, and the other part by way of the
south.
As we see in the historical review given elsewhere in these pages, the southern kingdom of Silla was the first to obtain control of the entire peninsula and impose her laws and language, and it is for this reason that the language to-day reflects much more of the southern stock than of the northern.1