Sunday, September 17, 2006

Alien Visitors upon Chosun's Shores Part II

The 'Alien Visitors upon Chosun's Shores' series:

Alien Visitors upon Chosun's Shores Part I
Alien Visitors upon Chosun's Shores Part II
An Account of the Arrival of the Audacious
Thoughts on the Observations of Conquest-Enabling Explorers



In my previous post, I looked at visits to Korea by westerners, such as Hamel in the 1650s, La Perouse in 1787, Broughton in 1797, and especially Hall in 1816.

The British Embassy in Korea's website describes another voyage to Korea:
In 1832 the British East India Company sent a ship, the 'Lord Amherst', along the northern shores of China in search of new markets. Not only did this ship visit Korea, but it also had on board the Rev. Charles (or Karl) Gutzlaff, who distributed some bibles.
Charles Gutzlaff wrote the 1834 book Journal of three voyages along the coast of China in 1831, 1832, & 1833, with notices of Siam, Corea, and the Loo-Choo islands (which can be found here), which describes the time the Lord Amherst spent on Korea's west coast between July 17 and August 11, 1832. Gutzlaff was, indeed, out to civilize the barbarians, and had a very low opinion of them - a far cry from the attitudes of the captains of the Alceste and Lyra in 1816.
Though this was indeed, but the outskirts of the kingdom, we cannot think the interior is as thickly inhabited as the maritime provinces of China. Their state of barbarism, cherished by the odious system of exclusion, which has no where, by a maritime nation, been carried farther than at Corea, does not admit of a numerous and flourishing population; nor do we think there are any large cities to be found.

Several domestic broils, which seem to have been fomented by Chinese policy, together with the variety of tribes inhabiting the country, seem to have kept this kingdom in barbarism, from which it did not emerge; while their neighbours, the Chinese as well as the Japanese, made rapid advances in civilzation.[...] Nothing is more ridiculous than to see the people so tenacious of ancient and useless forms, rather than desirous to keep pace with the march of improvement.
He has a solution however: bring over the Chinese to colonize the place!
Full allowance, however, should be made for the uncivilized state of the country. Instead of allowing the Chinese to come over from Shang-tung to cultivate a large quantity of waste but arable land, they choose to live on salt fish rather than to have intercourse with foreigners. As long as this system of exclusion of which they boast continues, they must always remain in the lowest rank of nations.
As can be seen, he manages to make broad assumptions about Korea in general based on the lifestyles he sees on a few islands on the west coast. Thus according to his experiences on sparsely populated islands, Korea "does not admit of a numerous and flourishing population; nor do we think there are any large cities to be found." Koreans also "choose to live on salt fish rather than to have intercourse with foreigners." As difficult as it is, I'll refrain from commenting on the "intercourse with foreigners" remark, as popular as that topic is in the Korean media these days (nor will I mention the eventual result Korea's initial "intercourse with foreigners" had, on a national level). Gutzlaff's primary concern, however, was not trade, but the spread of Christianity:
According to all accounts which we could collect, there are at present no Europeans at the capital, and Christianity is unknown even by name. We do not know how far we may credit the detailed accounts of persecutions which the Corean Christians endured, and endured with heroic firmness. If so many thousands as is said had been executed on account of their belief, Christianity would live in the recollection of the natives, at least as a proscribed creed; but we could discover no trace of it.
Gutzlaff refers to the pogrom against Christians which, according to this site, had occurred around 1800, 16 years after the first Korean Christian, who had been baptized in Beijing, came back to Korea to prosetylize, and 6 years after a Chinese priest came to Korea; this priest was executed in 1801. The year before Gutzlaff's visit, in 1831, a second Chinese priest had snuck into Korea once again, but it wouldn't be until 1836 that the first western missionaries, two French Catholics, would come to Korea (of course, being Protestant, Gutzlaff had little time for 'popery').

As with the crews of the Lyra and Alceste, the islanders Gutzlaff encountered had a tendency to both repel and engage them:
They thought to be able, by persuasion, to keep us on the beach; but how great was their astonishment to see us hastening up the hill! When we turned in the direction of their dwellings they made a firm stand and would by no means permit us to proceed. What suggested this precaution of not allowing us to look at their miserable clay hovels we could not find out; however, we desisted from the attempt to intrude.

[On] July 18 [we] started for a village which we saw yesterday from a hill. As soon as we stepped ashore, some persons took the trouble to conduct us to their village.[...] Several natives made the sign of beheading when we offered some trifles for their acceptance; others secretly pocketed some buttons, and one received a book, and immediately returned it, exclaiming "pulga," which we interpreted to mean fire, or burn it! There was very little chance of giving books in a direct way.

At every place where we afterwards met with Coreans alone, we found them [...] good-humoured and obliging. Thus we ought to ascribe the hostile feelings shown towards strangers, to the iron rules which the government inculcates. We cannot think that those signs of decapitation, made by the people on shore, were merely for pretence, but begin to believe, from the universal adoption of this gesture, that government would punish every transgressor with death, who dared to cultivate friendship with strangers.
They eventually anchored at a harbour called "Gankeang", which was apparently near Seoul.
Ascending the hills of nearby islands, one, which is densely populated and well cultivated, has a fort built upon a peak. [...] We finally ascertained that the large projecting point was an island, and separated from the main land only by a stream which disembogues into the sea. Had we gone in a north-east direction, we should very probably have arrived at the capital; for all the boats with the great mandarins came from that direction.
He gave gifts and bibles to the 'mandarins' to take to the king, but, while they insisted they had been conveyed to Seoul, they were in fact never sent, and after days of waiting the officials finally came clean about this, prompting him to leave. Going south, they eventually passed by Quelpart island, before heading for the Ryukyu islands, much as the Alceste and Lyra had 16 years earlier.

Another British ship, the HMS Samarang, would visit Quelpart Island (Jeju-do) and several islands off South Korea's southern coast in the summer of 1845. This voyage produced three different books, all published in 1848:

Captain Sir Edward Belcher's 1848 book Narrative of the voyage of H. M. S. Samarang: during the years 1843-46 (which can be read here);

Midshipman Frank Marryat’s book Borneo and the Indian Archipelago (which can be read here);

And scientist and surgeon Arthur Adams' book Notes from a Journal of Research into the Natural History of the Countries visited during the Voyage of the HMS Samarang, Under the Command of Captain Sir Edward Belcher, (which can be read here).

Belcher, who had taken part in the first Opium War, and had surveyed Hong Kong in 1841, had guided the Samarang on a surveying expedition from Indonesia and the Philippines north to the Ryukyu islands, Korea, and Japan between 1843 and 1846. On Okinawa, Adams makes clear (as does Belcher later) that he's well acquainted with former expeditions, making references to La Perouse and Gutzlaff's writing, as well as commenting on Okinawa's scenery, writing that "these gardens and temples, occupied by the officers and crew of the Alceste, are rendered doubly interesting by the graphic and pleasing accounts of Hall and M'Leod."

Between June 25 and July 15, 1845, Belcher surveyed Quelpart Island (Jeju-do), telling his hosts that
my Queen had sent me to visit foreign countries, in order to correct the charts by which our vessels might navigate in safety, and that it was important we should obtain a knowledge of the hidden dangers surrounding their island, in order that none should be wrecked upon its shores.
When the locals tried to stop his boats from landing, he took action that set the tone for much of the Samarang's visit to Quelpart:
I thought it better to put the matter beyond further doubt; directing the men, therefore, to pull in, I leaped on shore, with a musket, followed by my crew, with their arms, and took possession of the mound. They instantly perceived that we were not to be trifled with, and a better understanding was soon established between us.

"Quelpartians", from Marryat's book

Adams, the scientist, described the physical aspects of the island which sound familiar even today:
Quelpart may be said to be an oval iron-bound island, covered with innumerable conical mountains, topped in many instances by extinct volcanic craters, and an bowing down before one vast and towering giant, whose foot is planted in the centre of the island, and whose head is lost in clouds. The whole surface, including the plains and vallies between the hills and even that of the mountain-flanks, is carefully, richly, and most beautifully cultivated and covered with a pleasing verdant vegetation, laid ont in fields divided by neat walls made of piled-up stones.
Marryat, the midshipman, noticed other aspects of the island:
It is composed of innumerable hills in every variety of form, such as cones, saddles and tables. Most of these hills have forts built on their summits. From these, lights were displayed every evening, and it was astonishing the rapidity with which these signals were answered. I have seen the whole coast illuminated in less than five minutes, each hill appearing like a little volcano, suddenly bursting out.
Belcher also wrote that
By day, this was effected by smoke, which was very cleverly, as well as prettily performed, by throwing wet chopped straw, and sometimes paddy husks into the fire, producing instantaneously a dense white column, afterwards used, in imitation, by ourselves for surveying signals.
Marryat continued:
Innumerable forts and batteries are built along the coast [...] We found as we coasted along that all the forts are manned, the people being armed with matchlocks, spears, and arrows. On several occasions they fired their matchlocks, and the salute was returned by the six-pounders in the barges, which never failed of putting them to flight.
Group of Koreans, from Belcher's book

Despite these testy relations, they managed to have several meetings with local magistrates, and were able to secure provisions and permission to survey the coast. Adams described, during one of these meetings, punishment meted out to a civilian who had annoyed the Korean soldiers keeping watch:
When a man becomes troublesome or offends in any way, he is brought before the chief Mandarins, who first abuse him, and then order him to be seized and thrown down, when he receives a certain number of severe blows with a flat baton (formed like an oar and about six feet long), on the bare hams. Many carry about them severe traces of this bastinado practice in the forms of scars and ulcers.
Belcher further described the beating, saying of the baton that they
brought it down flat over the back part of the hams, a little above the knee joint, with a force apparently sufficient to break the limb, but for the flexibility of the instrument. I interceded to prevent the repetition of such torture, but at least a dozen of these terrific blows were inificted before my wishes could be explained and acted upon. It appeared to me to be a most severe punishment, yet the instant the culprit was released he nimbly tucked up his garments and fled, possibly accustomed to this mode of castigation.
Later, when they landed near Jeju city, the captain was invited to meet the local magistrate within the city. Marryat wrote:
This the captain, who suspected treachery, refused, and as we were going near to our boats, some of the natives laid violent hands upon our men, but having received from them a few specimens of our method of boxing, they soon quitted their hold. The Chinese interpreter was now missing; our men in consequence procured their arms, and landing, a strict search was made for him. He was found some little distance on land, having been enticed away by one of the chiefs, who was plying him with sam-schoo. On his way to return they forcibly detained him, and were in the act of conveying him away, when the appearance of the armed party from the boat surprised them, and they hastened to convey their own persons out of reach of our bayonets. It was not, however, our intention, or our policy, to commence hostilities, only to show them that we would not be trifled with.
Keeping this behaviour by the locals in mind, when Belcher accepted the invitation to meet the magistrate in Jeju city, he made careful preparations:
Selecting a party, including marines and blue jackets, of thirty men, under arms, as a guard, and accompanied by about six officers, we landed at the beach, in front of the city, where several thousand people, including troops, with their banners, were drawn up to receive us.
Delayed by evasive officials, made to march further and further from shore, and surrounded by Korean soldiers, Belcher began to get antsy:
[I] had taken into consideration the position of the town, as under the point blank range of the guns of the `Samarang'. The boats also armed with four field-pieces, and congreve-rockets, were at the beach, within sixty yards of the walls, with thousands to fall under a few discharges; and last, not least, the handful of picked men under my immediate command; I could not imagine, therefore, that these people could be such idiots as to provoke hostilities.
Upon being told to disarm before entering the city gate, set in an alcove in the city walls, which left his men hemmed in and surrounded by Korean soldiers and thousands of citizens, Belcher turned back to the ship, and
gently captured a stray General, and gave him to understand that the safety of his head depended very much upon his piloting us safe; these arrangements completed, we advanced very leisurely along the western walls, until we reached the beach.
Marryat's description of this kidnapping gives a better explanation of what "the safety of his head" meant:
[We] forcibly detain[ed] one of the mandarins upon the pretence that he must show us the way back, with the threat, that upon the slightest molestation on the part of his countrymen, we would blow his brains out, we commenced our march back to the beach, our two musicians playing with great energy, "Go to the devil and shake yourselves," which tune, struck up upon their own suggestion, was the occasion of great laughter among our party. At last we reached the beach without opposition, and the mandarin, who was terribly alarmed, was released.

Marryat made clear that things had not gone so well on the coast, however:
We then got into the boats and returned on board, where we heard that the cutter's crew had been compelled to kill or wound some of the natives, who had come down in a body and attacked one of the men with firebrands. The cutter was at anchor a short distance from the shore; on the natives approaching they seized their muskets, but did not fire until their shipmate was in danger of his life. Two of the natives had fallen and had been carried off by their comrades.
After this incident, Belcher reproached the Koreans for their 'dishonourable' behaviour, saying that had any Korean magistrate come aboard his ship, they would have been treated well, armed escort or not. Leaving Jeju proper, they explored numerous islands just south of Jeju, naming several of them in the meantime, such as Barrow and Barlow islands (which can be seen on this map), and described Hallasan as "the highest peak of the island, which, from our computations, from various stations, reaches the height of 6,544 feet. This was named Mount Auckland." On one island, they met a well educated man who impressed Belcher greatly upon discussing some of the local plants:
He produced specimens of the Strychnos or St. Ignatius bean, which he informed me he had obtained from China, through Korea, and that he knew that it was brought to China by an European vessel. I endeavoured to ascertain how he had obtained this fact, and taxed him with having visited China himself. This he denied, but admitted having been at one of the chief cities of Korea, visited by the junks from China as well as Japan. He was unwilling, or fearful, to afford me any information respecting this latter place, but he most distinctly combatted any idea of their being either dependent or subject to any control but that of Korea. I despatched a messenger to the ship for some of the beans of the Strychnos, which had been presented to me by the Padres of Batan, and begged him to accept them, in the hope of obtaining further information, but the approach of evening, and the presence of others, who seemed to act as spies, put an end to our conference.

As interesting as Belcher's possible doubt as to Korea's exclusive control over Quelpart is, his observation of the Koreans' intereraction with his Chinese interpreter reveals how little people on Quelpart knew of the outside world:
They seemed to be very much surprised at the facility with which our Chinese interpreter expressed himself in the court dialect of China, and particularly at his assisting us, probably termed here, as in China, barbarians. They were so far, or pretended to be, ignorant of our transactions with the Celestial Empire, that they doubted the assertion of the interpreter, that England did not pay tribute to China; and when informed of their submission and payment of six millions of dollars, as ransom at Canton, and further discomfiture, and payment of twenty-four millions, at Nankin, they termed him a very bad man, to tell such untruths of his country.
As interesting as their experiences on Quelpart are, the Samarang's crew soon begins exploring islands north of Quelpart, leading to discoveries which would have geopolitical importance 40 years later:
On the 15th we took a temporary leave of our friends at Quelpart, and steered a northerly course on our now bona fide voyage of discovery, into the Korean Archipelago. We had, indeed, charts of this region, but they were as much use as one of the Antarctic Regions, would be to show where icebergs might be looked for.
While Marryat assures his readers that "[i]t would be tedious to detail our surveying operations", Belcher thankfully takes the time to tell of the discoveries they made north of Quelpart:
[We] proceeded to the examination of this new group [of islands]. It was found to be composed of three islands, two large and one small, deeply indented and forming a most complete harbour within, as well as a very snug bay without. The ship was anchored in the outer bay, and the day following devoted to the survey of the island. The natives, which occupied four distinct and exclusive villages were civil, and conducted one of my assistants to the summit of the highest peak. The necessity for expedition did not afford us time to observe more of these people than that their occupation seemed to be solely fishing, and that they had a tolerable fleet of well-found substantial boats. There did not appear to be any military persons amongst them, the elder of the village, generally well marked by age and silver hair, appearing as the sole authority; they were all clad in home-spun grass cloth, but of very poor material. In compliment to the Secretary of the Admiralty, the harbour formed by this group received the name of Port Hamilton.
Belcher drew a map of this small island group, which would be seized by Britain in 1885 and held for three years:


It can also be seen north of Jeju Island on this map:


Naturalist that he is, Adams makes an interesting observation:
Among the Islands of the Korean Archipelago the children use the dried spiral eggs of a species of Skate, or some other cartilaginous fish, as rattles, having first introduced a few small pebbles to assist in making a noise.
Belcher spoke of his attempts to trade with the inhabitants of these islands:
As nature seemed to offer but very scanty means of subsistence on land, beyond the artificial collections of earth, forming the gardens to their little stone-built cabins, their resources if not obtained from places inland, were from the sea; but from the specimens of nets and boats which we noticed, they were very far behind other nations in this pursuit. English hooks of various sizes, knives, scissors, and needles, were offered to them, but either from fear of their superiors, or ignorance of their true value, they were declined. On one or two occasions they produced their Sake, in compliment, and I returned it by sweet wine, which they appeared to esteem, but most carefully brought back the bottle, supposing it to be of value. They were surprised to observe it thrown into the sea, and on recovery it was soon conveyed as a treasure to the Chief, or his nearest friend.

Felice Beato photo of a Korean man with beer bottles in 1871

Adams noted that
They are, however, very good-humoured, and seem to enjoy anything like a joke exceedingly. All appear to be passionately fond of spirituous liquors, nor can I say much for their morality of conduct. They are great smokers, carrying continually in their hands a long-stemmed pipe, with a diminutive brass bowl, which they fill and empty at brief intervals.
Becher makes an interesting comment by saying that "[t]he people themselves appear to be composed of several races", amd then provides a catalogue of differences between the 'superior class', military chiefs, officers, soldiers, fishermen, and labourers, thinking these differences related to race. Of their character, Belcher continues:
In all their transactions with us, I noticed an irresolution, a fluctuation between violent opposition to our landing in the first instance, and after this act had been consummated, an equal disposition to friendship, clouded by the fear of displeasure from some unseen source.
Belcher then reflected on his visit to Korea:
I cannot take leave of the Korean Islands without recording some notice of the change, which appears to have taken place, in the laws and habits of the people, since the visit of the `Alceste' in 1816; unless the author of that voyage misconceived their feelings and motives, in resisting any desire to land or communicate. The intercourse that subsisted between the Koreans and ourselves, aided by a competent Chinese interpreter, was of the most courteous description; accompanied by an avowal on my part, that I did not wish to enter their towns, and coupled with an assurance that my duties would confine me to the coast-line, or to such eminences only as they consented to my having access. One other point, noticed by us, does not coincide with the observations in the `Voyage of the `Alceste'. We found the Chinese written characters understood everywhere by the heads of villages, military Chiefs, and civilians, and frequently when a boat landed, the Officer has been shown a paper in that character, which, when brought to the interpreter, appeared simply to enquire, "what is your business?"
The content of the rest of his description of his visit to Quelpart, as well as Marryat's account, paint a far harsher picture of Quelpart's denizens. The crew of the Samarang, of course, were not the only foreigners to feel that the people of Quelpart were possibly violently opposed to foreigners landing there. Robert Neff's description (part 1; part 2) of the 1888 visit to Quelpart by Charles Chaille-Long, the Secretary of the American Legation in Seoul, makes clear that that visit was also fraught with the potential for violence.

Events prior to the Samarang's visit prompted a visit by the French in 1847. As previously mentioned, according to this site, in 1836 two French priests snuck into Korea, but their work was interupted three years later:
In 1839, the Korean King got wind of the covert activities and ordered the extermination of the Catholic Church in Korea once for all. Consequently, over two hundred Catholics, including the French bishop, two French priests, and numerous Korean church leaders, were executed.
This article continues:
On Aug. 10, 1846, two French warships, the Gloire and Victorieuse, that were sent to survey the Korean coast and to await Korea’s response to the murders of the French missionaries in 1839, ran aground off the coast of Cholla Province. The ships were completely destroyed but the crews were unmolested by the Korean population. They were eventually rescued after a small boat they had sent for arrived in Shanghai and dispatched help.
Perhaps worth noting, as William Speer did in this 1872 article (helpfully subtitled by kimsoft), was the 'divine providence' at work in the wrecking of these two ships (Speer, as a protestant, was no fan of French 'popery') as
the French vessels of war, La Victoriense and La Gloire [...] had just been engaged in the bombardment of the principal port of Cochin-China, the burning of many native vessels, and the slaughter of thirteen hundred of the helpless people.
Robert Neff also described the plight of a French whaler which was shipwrecked in Jeollanam-do in 1851 (part 1; part 2), as well as the attempt by Russia to set up a naval base on Tsushima in 1861, which got a rather unhappy response from the British. Keep in mind that this was only a year after the Russians had managed to acquire Vladivostok in the aftermath of the Second Opium War. It is likely that Russian exploration of Korea's east coast in this time period resulted in the Russian names seen on this map (Cape Kozakoff, Port Lazareff, etc) - whether it was the 1846 voyage of the Gloire and Victorieuse, or voyages by other French ships, which resulted in French names on the same map on Korea's west coast (Imperatrice Gulf), I'm not certain.

Numerous well known events occurred between 1866 and 1871 in which westerners landed on Korea's shores, and which mostly involved military confrontations.

In 1866 another pogrom against Korean Christians occurred, and 7 French missionaries were arrested and executed, along with hundreds of Korean Christians. A French priest escaped to China and let the French there know what was happening in Korea; the French decided to punish this. A French reconnaissance and surveying mission arrived on Sept. 20, 1866 and stayed for a week, sailing as far up the Han river as Yanghwajin (near Hapjeong station in Seoul today). Before returning to China, they were told of the sinking of the US merchant ship General Sherman near Pyongyang, which had occurred earlier that month. Between October 13 and November 18, 1866 the French invaded Ganghwa Island, but failed in their attempt to force Korea to open.

In May 1867, Ernst Oppert, with the aid of a French priest, attempted to steal the Taewongun's father's corpse in order to to press the Korean government to open up to foreign trade and cease persecuting Christians. He failed, but later wrote a book about his adventure, which was reviewed in the September 1880 issue of the New Englander and Yale review.



In 1871, an American expedition carrying US minister to Beijing, Frederick Low, hoped to establish trade and diplomatic relations with Korea and discover the fate of the General Sherman. On board was photographer Felice Beato, who took the photo above as the arrived off Ganghwa-do, likely making it the first photo taken in Korea (numerous photos of the campaign can be found here) Instead of trade relations, the US ships were eventually fired on as a result of a misunderstanding. The resulting conflict is well documented at the Shinmiyangyo website, where the text below comes from.

Speaking of meeting low-level Korean officials on board his ship, on May 31, 1871, admiral John Rodgers noted that
Their object appeared to be to learn all they could of our purposes and intentions, without committing themselves by the direct expression of assent or dissent to what was said to them; but their manner of non-objection conveyed the impression of actual compliance with our wishes. They were assured of our non-aggressive disposition, and were distinctly told that only to resent assault should we resort to arms. They were informed that we wished to take soundings of their waters, and to make surveys of the shores. To this they made no objection. We expressed the hope that no molestation would be offered to our parties in landing or passing up the river, and requested that word be sent to their people that they might preserve the friendly relations which were desired. It was further stated that twenty-four hours would be given to make this announcement to people along the river, before any movement was made. To all this they made no reply which could indicate dissent. So, believing that we might continue our surveys while further diplomatic negotiations were pending, an expedition was sent to examine and survey the Salee River, which empties into this bay, and leads into the River Seoul, which passes near the city of Seoul, the capital and residence of the Sovereign.
As Thomas Duvernay notes here, "The simple, but very serious miscommunication was that the Americans took the Koreans’ silence for compliance, while it was actually disagreement. "

Marines being towed into action

Speaking of the "short but decisive campaign against the Corean barbarians", Harpers Weekly (on September 9, 1871), continued the story (though report what was described above somewhat differently):
The fleet arrived off the mouth of Salt River about the last of May. Communication was at once opened with the authorities, who readily gave the fleet permission to make a survey of the river. The survey was undertaken on the 1st of June, and was proceeding quietly until the boats reached a bend in the river, where an attack was made upon them from an ambuscade. The attack was repulsed with great promptitude and gallantry, and the enemy was driven from his guns and position. The Corean government having failed to apologize for this treacherous attack, an expedition was dispatched on the 10th of June to bring the enemy to his senses and to terms.
Korean prisoners

The battle left some 350 Korean soldiers and 3 American soldiers dead, and some 200 Koreans taken prisoner. When the US side tried to use the prisoners to bargain with the Korean government, they were told to keep such cowardly soldiers. In the end, the US would lose diplomatically, despite winning militarily, as it was unsuccessful in trying to force the Korean government to open diplomatic or trade relations.

Four years later, in 1875, the HMS Audacious, flagship of Britain's China squadron, would make another visit to the islands that Edward Belcher visited in 1845 and named Port Hamilton. An account of that visit has already been posted here.

A conclusion looking at the bigger picture painted by the details of these travel accounts will be posted later.

Tuesday, September 12, 2006

Alien Visitors upon Chosun's Shores

The 'Alien Visitors upon Chosun's Shores' series:

Alien Visitors upon Chosun's Shores Part I
Alien Visitors upon Chosun's Shores Part II
An Account of the Arrival of the Audacious
Thoughts on the Observations of Conquest-Enabling Explorers


Korean Fishing Boat, May, 1871, by Felice Beato
Likely the first photo taken in Korea

Throughout the Chosun dynasty, as European sailors explored more and more of Asia, a number of descriptions of the Korean coastline began to appear, and on maps the Korean penninsula began to morph from a vague Island to the west of Japan into the geographically correct penninsula that adorns the 'one nation' flag used at joint North and South Korean sporting events today. It was very rare for westerners to make contact with Korean people, however, though a number of accounts do exist. The reason for this post is that a good many of them exist online. I found the full account (from 1875) which lies at the bottom of this post (or this post's 2nd part, rather) first, and through references made in that account, managed to find all of the others.

Henny Savenije points out that the first foreigner to land on Korean shores "was a man to which Korean sources refer to as "Pingni" or "Mari," who landed together with some Chinese on Cheju-do in spring of 1582. He was immediately deported to China."

As noted in The Imjin War, by Samuel Hawley, the first European commonly thought to visit Korea was Father Gregorio de Cespedes, a Spanish Jesuit who had spent 16 years in Japan, on December 27, 1593. His visit, during the Imjin War, came at the request of Konishi Yukinaga, one of several Christian daimyo, and one of Hideyoshi's most trusted commanders. At the time, the Japanese troops were holed up in a series of forts near Pusan awaiting the outcome of peace negotiations; Cespedes, whose only contact with Koreans was with those being sent back to Japan as slaves, wrote:

The cold in Korea is very severe and without any comparison with that of Japan. All day long my limbs are half benumbed, and in the morning I can hardly move to say mass, but... I am cheerful and don't mind my work and the cold.
He left Korea in April of 1594, perhaps having aided in coverting hundreds of Korean prisoners.


The most famous account of Korea during this time period is of course by Hendrick Hamel, the Dutch sailor shipwrecked with his fellow crewmembers on the coast of Quelpaert Island (Jeju-do) on August 16, 1653, and who escaped and made his way to Nagasaki in September of 1666. For an full translation of his account of his experiences there, along with maps and a great deal more, you need only look at Henny Savenije's website. As much has been written about him, and as his experience was different in that he was not a momentary visitor, but instead lived there for many years, I'll move on to other accounts. It is worth mentioning, however, that Hamel was simply the first European to escape from Korea and tell his tale. Soon after arriving in Korea he met another westerner:
Our people asked him for his name, from what country he came and how he had come there. He answered thus: "My name is Jan Janse Weltevree from De Rijp. I came in 1626 with the ship Hollandia from the fatherland and in 1626, while going to Iapan with the jaght Ouwerkerck, due to the unfavorable wind, we stranded at the coast of Coree. We needed water and we went with the boat ashore, where three of us we captured by the inhabitants. [...] He told us further that he had asked the king and other high administrators to be sent to Iapan. This, however was him forbidden all the time.

He said that if we were birds, we could fly to there. They don't send foreigners from this country. They will provide you with a living and for clothes and in this way you will have to end your life in this country. He tried to comfort us in this way. Even if we came in front of the king, we couldn't expect anything else, so that our joy of having found an interpreter, almost changed into sadness. It was remarkable that this man, of 57 or 58 years old, almost had forgotten his mother tongue, so that we hardly could understand him and had learned it again within a month.

Worth mentioning quickly is that when two of Hamel’s shipmates tried to steal a boat and escape to Japan soon after the shipwreck, they were soon punished:

He had them untied and had each given 25 blows on the bare buttocks with a stick which is about one fathom long and a finger thick at the bottom and round on the top. As a result they had to stay in bed for about a month, additionally we were not allowed to go out and were strictly guarded day and night.

Also interesting is the fact that their requests to be allowed to return home were "always refused with the argument that Korea never let foreigners leave, because one doesn't want Korea to be known to foreign countries." Of course, Hamel's account became well known to people (especially naval officers) throughout Europe, being published in English in 1704, and in French in 1715).

The next brief account of Korea comes from Jean-François de Galoup, Comte de La Pérouse, who commanded a French expedition to the Pacific between 1785 and 1788 (which ended when his ships disappeared near Australia). Sailing north from the Philippines, towards Hokkaido and Sakhalin [map here], he saw Quelpaert Island (Jeju-do) on May 21, 1787, and drew this map. He wrote
Unfortunately the island belongs to a people to whom all intercourse with strangers is prohibited, and who retain in slavery all who have the misfortune to be wrecked on their shores. Some of the Dutch sailors of the 'Sparrow-hawk,' after a captivity of eighteen years, during which they had received severe bastinadoes [punishment or beatings], found means to steal away a bark [boat] and get to Japan, whence they reached Batavia, and at length Amsterdam.[...] This story, of which we had an account before us was not of a nature to encourage us to send a boat ashore.[...]It is probable we occasioned some alarm on the coast of Korea, for in the afternoon we perceived fires lighted on all the points.
On May 27 the astronomer Dagelet sighted Ulleung-do, after whom the island was named (a map can be found here). As the inhabitants ran away at the sight of the foreign ships, La Pérouse wrote:
I endeavored to approach it but it was exactly in the wind's eye; fortunately it changed during the night and at daybreak I sailed to examine this island, I was very desirous of finding an anchorage to persuade these people by means of gifts that we were not their enemies, but fairly strong currents were bearing us away from the land.
Ten years later, between October 14 and 21, 1797, William Robert Broughton, captain of the Providence, anchored at a
harbour... called Tshosan, or Chosan, by the inhabitants. It is situated in the S. E. part of the coast of Corea, in the latitude of 35° 2' N., and 129° 7' E. longitude.
Despite him likely mistaking the name of the kingdom for the name of the harbour, the precise location he gives makes it clear he was in Pusan's harbour. Broughton had helped George Vancouver explore the west coast of North America, and in 1796 he set out to explore the area around Japan. After a second visit to Japan in the summer of 1797, he set out to explore the coast of Korea. Henny Savenije's site provides an account of his stay in Pusan from the log book Broughton published in 1804, titled "A Voyage of Discovery to the North Pacific Ocean". As can be seen from this map, Broughton had the strait between Pusan and Tsushima, as well as the bay north of Wonsan, named after him:

From Isabella Bishop's Korea and Her Neighbours, 1898

Anchoring a half mile from shore, near Pusan, they were soon "surrounded by boats full of men, women, and children, whose curiosity had brought them off to see the strange vessel." They were visited by officials wearing robes and "hats, serving as umbrellas, [which] were three feet in diameter."
We had no boats off till after breakfast, when two came full of visitors, dressed in a superior style to any we had yet seen. In each were some soldiers carrying small spears, that were as staffs to their colours, which were a blue sattin field, with their arms in yellow characters. The hats of the Soldiers were decorated with peacock's feathers. They made me a present of salt fish, rice, and sea-weed (fucus Sacharinus).

After many inquiries respecting us, we plainly saw they were extremely anxious for our departure, which I explained to them was impossible, as we were much in want of wood, water, and refreshments. They immediately offered to send us any quantity of the former, but I could not persuade them to send any of the cattle we pointed out to them, grazing on the shore. As money appeared of no value, and we had no other means to induce them, we were under the necessity of bearing with the disappointment, of seeing daily what we could not procure.

On our return on board in the evening we found the vessel crowded with visitors, nor could we get rid of them till dark, and even with great difficulty, using almost violence to induce them to go into their boats. At last they went on shore... [T]he assemblage of people [on shore] was so great as to materially affect our operations, notwithstanding the military were so stationed as to keep off the crowd, which they did at times most effectually, by exercising upon their persons large bamboo sticks.
Soon after arriving, Broughton described the harbour:
The harbour, we perceived, extended some distance to the westward of the rocks we had noticed in coming in, and also to the N. E. and S. W. of them, terminating in small bays that afforded shelter from all winds. Many villages were scattered round the harbour; and in the N. W. part we observed a large town, encircled with stone walls, and battlements upon them. Several junks were laying in a bason near it, protected by a pier. Another mole or bason appeared to the S. W. of the other, near some white houses of a superior construction, enclosed by a thick wood.
After a brief 'cruise' to explore a little of the surrounding area
They talked about our excursion in the boat yesterday, which they disapproved of, and explained that if we landed at the white houses up the harbour we should be very ill treated, if not put to death; and begged us not to go away in the boat any more. Soon after they landed; and, as if they still suspected our intentions, they immediately sent off four boats, having a soldier with their colours in each. I would not suffer them to come along-side, and they remained at anchor as guard-boats upon our bows and quarter. Towards the evening they left us to ourselves.
The next day, after secretly taking a boat out to sketch the harbour, Broughton notes that "our absence had thrown the village into great confusion: boats were dispatched in every direction after us, but we had escaped them all."

Beyond the accounts of the Korean authorities doing everything they could to keep an eye on the British and stop them from landing, it's also interesting that Broughton notes the existence of "white houses of a superior construction" to the southwest of the main town, and that the Korean authorities told them that "if we landed at the white houses up the harbour we should be very ill treated, if not put to death." One wonders if the houses he's describing are these ones:

1783 drawing of the Choryang waegwan

This was the Choryang waegwan, the walled-off Japanese trading and diplomatic post built in 1678 (replacing an earlier station). Jan Boonstra's site provides lots of information about it (like the photo above), including information about the harsh penalties that awaited Koreans who climbed the walls or made unauthorized contact with the Japanese. The 1872 map below shows it's location; the circular town near the center is Dongnae, below it is Pusan, and to the left of Yeong-do (the island) is the waegwan.


Back to Broughton's story:
Soon after, we received a visit from one of our principal friends, who seemed particularly pleased at our preparations for sailing. I presented him with a telescope and a pistol, the only articles he seemed desirous of possessing; and we parted with mutual satisfaction. We soon after got under way, and made sail out of the harbour, to the great joy of our Corean friends, who were assembled in great numbers on the adjacent hills observing our departure. We felt ourselves much obliged by their supplies of wood and water, without expecting any thing in return.

It appears by their behaviour they are by no means desirous of cultivating any intercourse whatever with strangers. They seemed to look upon us with great indifference, which I suppose was owing to the insignificancy of our vessel; or perhaps, their not comprehending what nation we belonged to, or what our pursuits were, made them solicitous for our departure, probably from a suspicion of our being pirates; or some other reason we could not divine.
Savenije's site also provides a translation of the Korean account of this encounter (the first between British and Koreans), which has some fascinating information about the communication (or lack thereof) between the two parties:
They neither knew nor understood any Chinese, Japanese or Mongolian. We provided them with brushes to write and their writing resembled like mountains covered with clouds. Though pictures were drawn, we still could not understand.[...] We could not understand their language and pronunciation at all, but we could realise only a four syllabled word Nang-ga-sa-gee which referred to the island of Nagasaki in Japan.
"[L]ike mountains covered with clouds" - I love that. I'd love to see their reaction to my handwriting. At any rate, it would be almost twenty years before a British ship visited Korea again, this time a year after Napoleon's defeat. On February 9, 1816 the forty-six gun frigate Alceste, captained by Murray Maxwell, and the small gun brig Lyra, captained by Basil Hall, departed England for the East, having on board Lord Amherst, Ambassador Extraordinary from the British King to the Emperor of China, and a diplomatic entourage including secretaries, naturalists, surgeons, Marines, and an artist. Amherst's mission was intended to improve British relations with China (which didn't go so well). After their arrival on the coast near Beijing that summer, they decided to explore the Yellow Sea and its environs, leading them to explore and chart the west coast of Korea, 'Sulphur Island' (Iwo Jima), and the Loo-choo Islands (Ryukyu Islands, and Okinawa).

Frontspiece to Basil Hall's book.

This voyage, besides leading to a shipwreck off Borneo on the return home, and a visit with Napoleon on St. Helena, also led to the publication of two books:

Basil Hall's A Voyage of Discovery to the Western Coast of Corea and the Great Loo-Choo Island in the Japan Sea, 1818, which can be viewed here (download the plug-in); and

John M'Leod (a surgeon, on the Alceste)'s Voyage of His Majesty's Ship Alceste, along the Coast of Corea, to the Island of Lewchew; with an Account of Her Subsequent Shipwreck, 1818, which can be viewed here (as a pdf or html).

Basil Hall's book spends 57 pages on the trip to Korea, while M'Leods book spends only 20 pages on Korea (as well, Hall spends 28 pages describing his meetings with a Korean 'chief', while M'Leod spends only 9 pages on the same topic). Needless to say, I think Hall is the more engaging writer, which is why everything below is from Hall's book unless otherwise stated.

The voyage's encounter with Korea took place between September 1 and 10, 1816, and was both intriguing and somewhat dangerous for those undertaking it:
Of this coast we had no charts possessing the slightest pretensions of accuracy, … Only a few islands are noticed on any map… These inaccuracies in the charts naturally gave a very high degree of interest to this part of the voyage; yet the navigation being at all times uncertain, and often dangerous, considerable anxiety necessarily mingled itself with the satisfaction produced by so new and splendid a scene.
Arriving at the first islands they see along Korea’s coast, they have their first encounter with the inhabitants:
At first they expressed some surprise on examining our clothes, but afterwards took very little interest in any thing belonging to us. Their chief anxiety was to get rid of us as soon as possible. This they expressed in a manner to obvious to be mistaken; for, on our wishing to enter the village, they first made motions for us to go the other way; and when we persevered, they took us rudely by the arms and pushed us off.

They refused dollars when offered as a present, and, indeed, appeared to set no value upon anything we shewed them, except wine glasses; but even these they were unwilling to receive. One of the head men appeared particularly pleased with a glass, which, after a good deal of persuasion, he accepted, but in about five minutes after, he, and another man to whom a tumbler had been given, came back and insisted upon returning the presents; […] leaving us with only one man, who, as soon as all the rest were out of sight, accepted one of the glasses with much eagerness.

Islanders of the Sir James Hall Group (from M'Leod's book)

One man expressed the general wish for our departure, by holding up a piece of paper like a sail, and then blowing on it in the direction of the wind, at the same time pointing to the ships, thereby denoting that the wind was fair, and that we had only to set sail and leave the island.

Captain Maxwell named these islands Sir James Hall’s Group, in compliment to the President of the Royal Society of Edinburgh. They lie in longitude 124 46’E. and latitude 37 50’ N.
These islands are in fact Baengnyeongdo, the most western point of South Korea (and just off the coast of the Ongjin penninsula in North Korea); they're marked as Sir James Hall’s Group on the 1898 map above. Also, Hall is being a little coy when he fails to mention that Sir James Hall is also his father!

On another island further south, they meet more islanders unwilling to let them land:
They drew their fans across their own throats, and sometimes across ours, as if to signify that our going on would lead to heads being cut off; but whether they or we were to be the sufferers was not apparent. It was suggested by one of our party that they dreaded being called to account by their own chiefs for permitting us to land.

On a watch being shewn, they disregarded everything else, and entreated to be allowed to examine it closely. It was evidently the first they had seen, and some of them while watching the second hand, looked as if they thought it alive.

[…] We walked back to the boats, to the great joy of the natives, who encouraged us by all means to hasten our departure. They took our hands and helped us over the slippery stones on the beach; and, on perceiving one of the boats aground, several of them stript and jumped into the water to push her off.
It may well be that their desire to see the foreigners leave may have led them to act with enough passion for Hall to declare, "They have a singular custom of speaking with a loud tone, amounting almost to a shout."

At one point, upon approaching a large bay on the mainland, they are approached by a local “chief” surrounded by several boats full of people, who then board one of the British ships for a meeting, where they find they are unable to communicate. The official eventually leaves, but the British realize he then wishes them to come onto his boat. When it is realized he has nothing to serve them, they give him a bottle of their own wine.
He was nowise discomposed at being obliged to entertain his company at their own expense; on the contrary, he carried off the whole affair with so much cheerfulness and ease, as to make us suspect sometimes that he saw and enjoyed the oddity of the scene and circumstances as fully as we did ourselves.[…]We left the chief in good humour, and returned on board… we had no sooner left him than he …call[ed] the other boats around him, gave orders for inflicting the discipline of the bamboo upon the unfortunate culprit, who had been ordered into confinement during the conference.[…] During the infliction of this punishment, a profound silence was observed by all the party, except five or six persons immediately about the delinquent, whose cries they accompanied by a sort of song or yell at each blow of the bamboo. This speedy execution of justice was, no doubt, intended to impress us with high notions of Corean discipline.
A Korean chief (from M'Leod's book)

Interesting in Hall’s account is of the formality necessary in meetings with Korean officials, and of the guessing that went on, on both sides, to discern what should be done. Speaking of “The surprise of these people on discovering our inability to read their papers”, Hall notes that
The case, we may imagine, had never occurred to them before … At first they appeared to doubt the fact of our ignorance, and shewed some symptoms of impatience; but this opinion did not last long, and they remained completely puzzled, looking at each other with an odd expression of surprise.
He also notes that the translated paper read: “Persons, of what land-of what nation (are you)? On account of what business do you come hither? In the ship are there any literary men who thoroughly understand, and can explain what is written?” This is slightly different than the translation given in M’Leod’s book: “I don’t know who ye are ; what business have ye here?" (I'm a little lost as to what evoking a Scottish dialect is supposed to mean regarding his opinion of the chief, especially when both captains, and likely he himself, are Scottish).

As they are able to try to adapt themselves to the wishes of their hosts, their hosts are also capable of doing the same, as Hall comments after watching the chief refuse chopsticks and eat a British breakfast with a knife and fork:
The politeness and ease with which he accommodated himself to the habits if people so different from himself were truly admirable; and when it is considered, that hitherto, in all probability, he was ignorant even of our existence, his propriety of manners should seem to point, not only to high rank in society, but to imply also a degree of civilization in that society, not confirmed by other circumstances.
His opinion changes somewhat when he sees the chief's reaction to an attempt by the captains and officers to land on shore:
[A]s we approached the shore, his anxiety increased, and he frequently drew his hand across his neck, as if to sew that he would lose his head if we persisted.[…] we had no notion of ant such apprehension being well grounded; and, in short time, landed at the distance of half a mile from the village.

The Chief [upon landing] began crying violently, and turning towards the village walked away, leaning his head on the shoulder of one of his people. As he went along, he not only sobbed and wept, but every now and then bellowed aloud. We had been nowise prepared for such a scene, and were extremely sorry for having pushed matters to this extremity. […] We could not satisfy ourselves whether he was sincere, or merely acting in order to prevail on us to retire.
Corean chief and his secretary,
Drawn by William Havell (official artist to Lord Amherst's

expedition to China), from a sketch by Captain Hall

After returning to the ship and leaving, Hall wrote
We quitted this bay without much regret. The old Chief, indeed, with his flowing beard, and pompous array, and engaging manners, had made a strong impression upon us all; but his pitiable and childish distress, whatever might have been the cause, took away from the respect with which we were otherwise disposed to regard him.
Speaking of how the ‘treatment of strangers is regulated’, he wrote
The promptitude with which we were met at this place, where, perhaps, no ship ever was before, seem to imply an extraordinary degree of vigilance and jealousy on the part of the government.
M’leod reflects on the encounter with the chief:
It was pretty evident, however, that he was acting from orders which he dared not trifle with, rather than from any inhospitable feeling in his own nature; for in this respect there was a manly frankness in the behaviour of all the Coreans we saw, and not what could be considered an inclination to be rude.

We saw enough however, to convince us that the sovereign of this country governs with most absolute sway; and that, occasionally, he makes very free with the heads of his subjects. The allusion to this danger could not have been so constant and uniform, in places so remote from each other, without some strong reason.
One has to admit, compared to later visitors, Hall doesn't really threaten violence in order to get his way. When the chief starts crying, they eventually leave. The only time weapons are fired are as a display for Koreans (which is usually asked for). One instance where the British started to lose their cool was when, upon reaching an island where all the women and children had fled at their approach, they explored the island with some local men accompanying them. As they approached the likely hiding spot of the women and children, the men tried to stop them, which led to a confrontation which had the most unlikely of resolutions:
I turned round and exclaimed “Patience Sir!” he drew back… and a moment after called out himself, “Patience Sir!” The others hearing this caught the words too, and nothing was heard for some time amongst them but “Patience Sir,” pronounced in every instance with perfect propriety. They seemed surprised themselves on discovering powers of imitation hitherto in all probability unexercised. This incident brought us better acquainted, and we remained on the top of the hill teaching them English words till it was dark.
Thus we have Hall describing, on September 8, 1816, what was likely the first English lesson to take place in Korea. It was likely partly out of that conversation that the page below, which translates several Korean words into English, was written:


And now for an intermission; we'll return to the voyages of the Lord Amherst, in 1832, and the Samarang, in 1845, shortly (as well as perhaps summarizing the 1875 visit to Port Hamilton by the Audacious found in my last post).

Monday, September 04, 2006

An Account of the Arrival of the Audacious

The 'Alien Visitors upon Chosun's Shores' series:

Alien Visitors upon Chosun's Shores Part I
Alien Visitors upon Chosun's Shores Part II
An Account of the Arrival of the Audacious
Thoughts on the Observations of Conquest-Enabling Explorers


I came to the realization last week that you could do a search for 'Korea' (or 'Corea') here and find dozens of articles from late 19th or early 20th century periodicals like Harpers or Atlantic Monthly. I came upon this well written account of an encounter with Korea and decided to use the OCR text function (with a bit of editing) to post it. An attempt to find more information led to another online account, and then others, and before I knew it I had a very, very long post in the works, with excerpts from several different expeditions, making a full account of this one a bit much; I've decided to post it here separately.

Map from Isabella Bird Bishop's Korea and Her Neighbours, 1898

The following article is an account of a visit to Port Hamilton (or Geomundo; it's in the center of the above map) by the British battleship HMS Audacious in August, 1875. It was written by Cyprian A. Bridge, who served for two and a half years on the Audacious, which was then the flagship of Admiral Alfred Ryder in China. It was published in Littell's Living Age, Volume 129, Issue 1662 on April 15, 1876 (scans of which can be found here).


HMS Audacious


From The Fortnightly Review.
A GLIMPSE OF THE KOREA.

A COOL breeze from the north-west rose in the early morning, and fanned the heated waters of the Korean Channel, raised yesterday almost to a glow by the scorching blaze of the August sun. The atmosphere is still clear of vapour; the sky above, the sea beneath, both serenely blue; a gentle ripple just ruffles the surface of the water, tossed into spray only by the cleaving prow of the huge ship steaming onward towards the land; light fleecy clouds, snowy or even silvery white in the early sunshine, fleck the bright azure of the sky, and float across the newly-risen sun. Far away on the port-bow a long line of misty cloud-masses hangs over the lofty summits of the Korean island of Quelpart, itself still out of view. On the starboard hand rise above the horizon, indistinct in the far distance, the blue ridges of the mainland, with an archipelago of fantastic rocks and cone-shaped islets for foreground. Ahead show out the bold cliffs and steep inclines of the curious double island known to western navigators as Port Hamilton, for which the ship is bound. A deep cleft in the lofty side soon widens to an opening; the opening becomes a “narrow;” and close to the island promontory on the left — for the shore is bold and deep water flows beside it — the ship glides into the placid bay between the two curving islands which, like arms, embrace and form it. A few small fishing-craft were standing into the bay, their white or pale-blue pennons fluttering in the gentle breeze from slender staves erected in their high-pitched sterns.


The slow progress towards the anchoring-ground gave time for a good look round on the shores of the quiet bay. On either hand hills rose, here abruptly, there with gentle slope; to a height of at least five hundred feet; whilst above the general line of heights sharp-pointed peaks sprang to an elevation half as great again. The slopes were richly green: green with fields of waving millet yet unripe. Cultivation reigned on every available spot. From beach to summit, save where excessive steepness forbids labour, the whole hillside was divided into cultivated fields, separated from each other by green hedgerows as in some far western lands. Every scrap of ground was in crop, not a single plot was even fallow. Above, or on steep promontories, or edging the narrow strip of soil between the rocky beach and the cliffs that here and there vary the outline of the shore, grow clumps of evergreen oaks, or copses of fir and pine. The fields were small, and the thick foliage of the dividing hedges looked at a distance like a bank of green. The contour of the land, the size and fashion of the fields, the moist verdure of the slopes, recalled to more than one of us, by whom the place was now visited for the first time, the green landscapes of southern Ireland.

In a fold of the hillside between two gentle ascents, half-way toward the summit of the ridge of Sodo, the westernmost island of the two, peered out from amidst fields and hedgerows the scattered roofs of a small hamlet. Elsewhere the population is gathered into four large villages or towns — two on the western, and two on the eastern island. The chief town lies toward the north on the western shore of the bay, where the island dips to a long promontory crowned at the point with such a headland as Misenum. Across the dip between the central ridge and this elevated headland lie the blue mountains of the distant main. Beyond the cape, and between it and the western shore, runs a narrow strait, shallow, and with sunken rocks which make the little sound between the islands almost land-locked. The town is compactly built; hip-roofs of poles and mat, with sloping ends, lie close together. In the distance they called to mind the likeness of a testudo of besieging shields. The town abuts upon the stony beach. Each house and its dependent buildings are surrounded by a rude stone wall. Above the coping shoot branches of green shrubs, and here and there stems of the universal millet. Between the house-walls run rudely paved lands as steep and stony as at Brixhani or Clovelly. A few boats were hauled upon the beach, and a coasting craft of some thirty tons rode at anchor hard by. The town itself contains close on two hundred and fifty houses, and possibly a thousand souls.

Photo taken during the UK occupation of Port Hamilton, 1885-87

On the other island, also on the beach, but where the water makes almost an inlet in the shore, are two other towns. Both seemed large — as large at least as the one just noticed on Sodo. In front of the southernmost lay many junks at anchor. From both — but not from a single house of either town on the other island — wreaths of blue smoke rose. The more northern climbs somewhat high up the hill, and yet higher throws out a scanty suburb. The fourth town was passed and soon hidden behind a jutting headland: it is perhaps the smallest of the four.

In front of each stands a stately tree; beneath its shade, on a platform rudely faced with loose stones, the elders and the commons of the little communities assemble. At first, as we entered the bay, scarce a soul was stirring. A few men and boys were seen moving about in front of some of the houses, or perhaps along a lane between the hedgerows. But as the morning advanced, many peeped out from their doors, till before long a crowd was gathered before each little town to look at the ship moving slowly up the bay. The anchor was cast opposite the town first mentioned. Within a short time of anchoring, a boat put off from the ship for the shore, to make some inquiries of the head-man, or governor of the island. The emissary was received at the water’s edge, and courteously conducted to the great tree, the shade cast by which was supplemented by that of a canvas awning spread for the purpose. The officer was received by the chief men of the place, each distinguished — besides the stature and bearing of a higher class — by an official head-dress. This head-gear is black, made of some light fibrous substance, as finely woven as a horsehair sieve, and in shape much resembling that of the peasant women of south Wales, the heroines of Fishguard. The cavity to receive the head is cup-shaped, and beneath the brim. The common robe of all is white long and flowing like the Japanese kimono, and girt in at the waist. Loose broad trousers of the same are tied in below the knee; white socks or buskins, and pointed, turned-up shoes complete the costume. The hair is long, and is gathered up into a small knot upon the crown. The children wear a long plaited tail behind; perhaps a remnant of the Manchu tyranny which tried, and failed in the attempt, to put upon the Koreans the same head-mark as that submitted to by the more pliable Chinese.

In the little embassy from the ship there was no one who could speak the Korean tongue. Communication was held by the aid of a Chinese servant, who wrote the few questions asked in the characters of his language. Question and answer were written upon paper, and readily interpreted by both Korean and Chinese, though neither could speak one word of the other’s tongue. The head-men would not allow the baser sort, of whom a small crowd had already collected, to approach too near. Those who did were waved back, and when signs and orders failed, were beaten backwards with bamboos. The village senate — for such seemed the group of elders who surrounded the venerable head-man — were unarmed, and no member bore even a staff of office.

The not important information asked for being courteously imparted, the boat the returned on board. Soon as the bell struck of eight the colours were hoisted in accordance with ancient naval custom, and the band played “God save the Queen!” The notes of the music floated across the bay, and the crowd of gazers at the different villages quickly increased. An hour afterwards a boat again pulled in towards the beach, this time carrying a goodly load of visitors. On landing, as before, two grave inhabitants, adorned with the official head-dress, met the visitors and conducted them to the meeting-place beneath the tree. The senate was assembled to receive them. Again the general public was kept at a respectful distance, and by the same argument as before. The aged headman was courteous, and hospitable withal. An attendant brought forth some liquor, which was poured into a mouthed, shallow cup of metal, first tasted by the venerable host — such is the Korean mode — and then handed to the visitors. The liquor, whitish in colour and sour in taste, is possibly akin to the kournis of the Tartar tribes. The visit of strangers was evidently not much liked. Still the elders showed a certain grave courtesy, and a somewhat, pleasing and even well-bred manner. As the officers from the ship divided into small parties of three and four to explore the island, some slight show of opposition was made. This was overcome, or purposely let pass unnoticed; so two of the little senate accompanied it in each party. The strangers being young, and eager for exercise after their confinement on board, pushed out quickly for the hills. Inspection of the town was firmly resisted, and with almost complete success; so roads had to be taken to the right and left. Hurrying after the eager visitors could be seen, from the deck of the ship, the two attendant villagers in their high-crowned hats and flowing robes; now lagging half tired out behind, now trotting courageously to regain the party in front, now eagerly waving the fan which all carry, now fluttering it rapidly to cool themselves, for the sun was already high, and the thermometer, even afloat, showed 87 degrees in the shade. When signs had no effect, the visitors were hailed “Chin-chin,” the universal salutation on the China coast, believed by the English to be Chinese, and by the Chinese to be English; though in reality it belongs to neither speech. Probably, however, the use of the phrase now is a remnant of former intercourse with Chinese.

Some did actually succeed in traversing the village, and even in seeing the inside a Korean house. Not a woman was visible; all had been carefully hidden away. The houses are built of wood, with sliding doors and windows, like those of the Japanese. In the front, about the centre, is a recess or open-sided chamber, for reposing in during the summer heats. At one end is a low balcony or verandah, formed by the protruding eaves. A light railing runs round it, and a cool resting-place is thus made. The house floor is a raised platform, as in Japan, a small portion of which is cut away just within the door, to form a cavity in which, on entering, the shoes or sandals are deposited. The only domestic animals seen were pigs - probably of the Chinese breed — and dogs. In the fields, singly, and in some native places in twos and threes, were numerous broad-rounded cones, with a sharp-pointed thatch upon the roof, which look like huts, but were found to be small granaries for the millet when harvested. At the northern end of the chief village these stood so thick as to bear the semblance of an Indian town.

Two of the island senators who had accompanied one of the parties of officers who had landed, expressed a wish by signs to pay a visit to the ship. No persuasion could get them to go alone. The officers signified their assent to repeated requests to accompany them, and a native boat was launched to take them on board. This frail bark was worked by a man and two boys, who propelled it by a single scull, with the bent handle and straw lashing at the inner end, common in northern China and Japan. The boat itself was of the rudest construction. The sides were fashioned of wide and roughly trimmed planks hewn from some tree of great size. The ends protruded far beyond the stern, and across them, above the water, were laid rows of slender poles offering a fragile deck on which to stand. The passengers, as in the sampans of Amoy and the Straits, sit at the bow.

Arrived alongside the ship, the Korean visitors clambered up the side. On reaching the deck each bowed low, and said, “Chin-chin.” One was a fine and even handsome man, six feet high at least, with Caucasian features and a copper-coloured skin. His mouth and chin were fringed with a scanty black beard. On his head was the official hat, but white, not black, like all the others that had been seen. This, it is explained, shows that he is in mourning for his mother, white in the Korea, as in China, being the hue of mourning. The visitors at first showed evident signs of timidity; but, at the same time, were not without a certain amount of swagger, though good manners still held paramount sway. They yielded to invitation, which had to be more than once repeated, and went about the ship looking at the guns, the shot, and the various small arms. Invited to look into the muzzle of a huge twelve-ton piece, they politely and with even graceful gesture, declined. Expression and refusal said plainly, “A thousand thanks; I will assume for your sake that it is wonderful, as you evidently wish that I should.” The taller one explained that he understood what the great gun was; be pointed to it, and shouted loudly, “Boom!” thus mimicking the roar of modern artillery. This was so favourably received that he attempted the same mode of expressing himself when shown the engines, and exclaimed, “Whoosh! Whoosh!”

Invited to descend to the deck on which the seamen mess, they again showed their diffident manner. The sight of Chinese cooks, however, at the cooking-galley seemed to be reassuring; and the strangers proceeded to inspection. As in China, so in the Korea, nil admirari, or at least the repression of outward symptoms of admiration, is regarded as essential to good manners. The two strangers tried hard, and for some time successfully, to restrain their feelings. These at last got the better of them. Shown into the ward-room, a well-lighted, and — for a ship at least — a lofty apartment, hung with brightly coloured pictures, and adorned with gilded mouldings, they expressed their admiration loudly in a spontaneous outburst of delight. The taller visitor forgot his mourning, clapped his hands loudly upon the table, inclined his head towards a gorgeous chromo-lithograph, and broke out into a song of joyous delight. Calling for the interpreting paper and pencil, he wrote in rapid but well-formed characters, the assertion that all was perfect. Then both he and his friend seated themselves and relapsed into placid admiration and well-bred ease. Above their heads hung the portrait of Queen Victoria. It was explained to them who the august personage was; both rose, stood in front of it, and made it low and reverent obeisance. The gestures were the same as those that still linger in Japan, in spite of the hot haste in adopting Western customs.

Hospitality was thrust upon them in the English manner by the offer of the national beverage. They expected their hosts to taste first, and then they themselves took long sips of the ale. The glasses were put down, and no sign of pleasure or of disgust appeared upon the face of either; but, after a decent interval, the tall Korean called again for paper and pencil, and this time wrote a request that the pale-ale — not, it is true, improved by a voyage half round the world — might be given to his low-born countrymen who worked the boat in which he came on board. After this he was tried with a sweet, highly-flavoured liqueur. Of this both he and his companion altogether approved, and no pressure was needed to induce them to accept a second glass. Opposite to where they sat was a large mirror. Catching sight of the reflections of their faces in this, they rose and stood immediately in front of it, rectifying meantime defects in their toilet.

Photo taken during the UK occupation of Port Hamilton, 1885-87

The tall visitor, who took the lead in all matters, asked in writing if the band, the strains of which he had probably heard in the morning, might be ordered to play. His request was complied with, and soon stirring sounds of the march of the Presbrajenski regiment penetrated to the ward-room. The effect was instantaneous and strange. The shorter islander, who seemed older than his companion, and who had a grave and reverent aspect, suddenly brightened up; then, extending his arms horizontally, threw back his head, and began a slow dance in unison with the music. He was evidently sublimely unaware of the strange grotesqueness of his combined levity and solemnity of appearance. The dance was kept up for a minute or two, and reminded one of the strange devotional exercise of the dervishes of Galata. The younger visitor was less moved, but he, too, permitted the effects of the pleasure of the sensation to be distinctly perceived. At length, it was explained to them that they must leave, as the ship was about to sail. They civilly said “farewell,” or what seems to be such, and getting into their crazy-looking boat, were sculled towards the shore.

Few on board her failed to regret that they had not been able to see more of this strange people, which has, more consistently and successfully than either Chinese or Japanese, resisted all attempts at intercourse on the part of foreigners. Four years ago, the Americans, who tried to gain access to the country, with a result different from that which followed Commodore Perry’s mission to Japan, were led into a conflict with the Koreans, and having undertaken an expedition with insufficient force, were repulsed. Since then, no attempt on the part of a Western nation to penetrate the mysterious exclusiveness of the Korea has been made. Less is known of the country and of the people than of the manners and customs of many savage tribes. What their religion is, is doubtful; and even within a few hundred miles of their shores two totally different accounts of their system of government and polity are given. One authority declares them to be citizens of a republic; another, the despotically governed subjects of an autocratic ruler. At Port Hamilton no temple nor sign of worship (save perhaps veneration of ancestors, as in China and Japan) was visible. The village communities are governed evidently by a deliberative body; a senate either chosen by age, or a council of leaders selected as in ancient Germany, ex nobilitate. There are symptoms of the existence of an aristocracy of birth, or a superior class. Education is widely disseminated; most can write and understand the Chinese characters. Unlike their Japanese neighbours and — if the theory of a Korean immigration into Japan in pre-historic times be accepted — probable descendants, they do not on ordinary occasions go armed. About them there hangs the interest inevitably begotten by mystery, and an interest which approaching events may intensify. The restless party in Japan, which has run such a head-long course on the path of Europeanization, is said to purpose an attack upon the Koreans, simply to “keep in wind” the Samurai, the military class which the three or four years that have elapsed since the abolition of feudalism, have been insufficient to absorb. That some intention of the kind passes through the minds of the ruling clique in Japan, is tolerably certain. The native press, in discussing relations with the Korea, treat it as a matter of fact, and the only difference of opinion, is as to the pretext. A prominent Japanese newspaper has very recently attributed the warlike aspirations of the hour to the machinations of the less reputable foreigners, who have, as a class, made so much out of the foibles and the innocent mistakes of the Japanese people. A writer in the journal in question infers that they desire to reap again such a harvest as fell to those Occidentals who, in the golden age of Western commerce with Japan, enriched themselves by rather questionable transactions. “They probably desire,” hints a writer in this Japanese journal, “to buy worn-out vessels for next to nothing, and sell them to us at exorbitant prices.” It will be well if Japan pauses before being led into the dangers of a warlike policy. Going to war “with a light heart” is likely to produce as many ills in the far East as in the West. The imitators of Western manners in Japan know enough of recent history to be aware of the dangers that overtook a dynasty which, to satisfy the desires of a certain class of the population, declared war against a neighbour of unascertained strength with un coeur leger. May they profit by the example. The Korea is the last semi-civilized State which has resisted the attempts of foreigners to open intercourse with it. The days of Cortez and Pizarro are past; it will be a painful burlesque if their career be mimicked by Japan.

CYPRIAN A. G. BRIDGE.


Postscript:

As much as I think "a painful burlesque" would make a great title for an essay about the colonial period in Korea, I couldn't help but notice that Bridge relegates brutal imperialism to the days of Cortez and Pizarro, some 350 years in the past, but makes no mention of British imperialism. But then, I'm sure a heavily armed British battleship (the flagship of the China squadron, no less) was just stopping by Port Hamilton, a sheltered harbor in an excellent location between Korea, Japan, Vladivostok, and Shanghai, just to take in the wonderful view. I'm sure this visit had nothing to do with the seizure of these islands by Britain ten years later (when photos like the ones in this article were taken). Snide remarks about the implications of the visit aside, he is a very good writer, and captures the experience (especially the visit by the officials aboard the ship) very well.