CHAPTER XXIV

Kang-wha, brief history of the island—A monastic retreat, an ideal rest—Nocturnal visitors—Midnight masses—Return to the capital—Preparations for a great journey—Riots and confusion

Kang-wha, the island to which I was sailing in these easy stages, lies in the north-east quarter of the gulf, formed by the right angle which the coast makes before taking that northerly sweep which carries it, with a curve, to the mouth of the Yalu River. On the south and south-west, Kang-wha is exposed to the open sea; on the north, the island is separated from the mainland by the Han estuary; and on the east a narrow strait, scarce two hundred yards wide, through which boats, journeying from Chemulpo to Seoul must travel, severs the island from the mainland.

WASHING CLOTHES IN A DRAIN

The geographical features of the island include four clearly-defined ranges of mountains, with peaks attaining to an altitude of some two thousand feet. Broad and fertile valleys, running from east to west, separate these ranges, the agricultural industry of the population being conducted in their open spaces. The villages and farmsteads, in which the farming population dwell, are folded away in little hollows along the sides of the valleys, securing shelter and protection from the severity of the winter. Many hundred acres of the flats, which form the approaches to these valleys from the coast, have been reclaimed from the sea during the last two centuries, the erection of sea dykes of considerable length and immense strength having proceeded apace. But for these heavy earthworks, what is now a flourishing agricultural area would be nothing but a sea of mud washed by every spring tide. The continuous encroachment of the sea threatened at one time the extinction of all the low-lying level land.

Kang-wha, with its curious monasteries and high protecting battlements, now reduced to picturesque decay, played a prominent part in the early history of Korea. It has repelled invasion, and afforded sanctuary to the Royal Family and the Government in days of trouble; the boldness of its position has made it the first outpost to be attacked and the most important to be defended. Twice in the thirteenth century the capital was removed to Kang-wha under stress of foreign invasion. With the exception of the terrible Japanese invasion under Hideyoshi in 1592, and the Chino-Japanese War in 1894-95, Kang-wha has felt the full force of nearly every foreign expedition which has disturbed the peace of the country during the past eight centuries, notably those of the Mongols in the thirteenth, of the Manchus in the seventeenth centuries, of the French in 1866, and of the Americans in 1871. Furthermore, Kang-wha was the scene of the affair between Koreans and Japanese which led to the conclusion of the first treaty between Korea and Japan in 1876. The actual signing of that instrument, the first of the series which has thrown open Korea to the world, took place in Kang-wha city. The predecessor of the present Emperor of Korea was born in Kang-wha in 1831, living in retirement in the capital city until he was called to the throne in 1849. Upon occasion, Kang-wha has been deemed a suitable place of exile for dethroned monarchs, inconvenient scions of Royalty, and disgraced Ministers.

At two points in the narrow strait upon the east are ferries to carry passengers to the mainland. Kang-song, where the stream makes an abrupt turn between low cliffs, is the scene of the American expedition of 1871; near the southern entrance of the strait, and close to the ferry, are the forts which repelled the American storming-party. The famous rapids and whirlpool of Son-dol-mok, whose evil reputation is the terror of the coast, are close by. There are numerous forts dotted round the coast of the island, recalling the Martello towers of Great Britain. They were not all erected at one time; the majority of them date only from the close of the seventeenth century, having been raised in the early years of Suk-chong. The rampart upon the eastern shore, which frowns down upon the straits and river below, was erected in 1253. Ko-chong, of the Ko-ryö dynasty, fled before the Mongol invasion of that date, removing his Court and capital from Song-do to Kang-wha. Kak-kot-chi, where there is a second ferry, is a few miles beyond Kang-song. At the point where the ferry plies, the hill of Mun-su rises twelve hundred feet high from the water’s edge. From a junk a short distance from the shore it appears to block the straits, so closely do the cliffs of Kang-wha gather to the mainland. This little place became the headquarters of the French expeditionary force in 1866.

The capital of the island, Kang-wha city, is a battlemented citadel, with walls fifteen li in circumference, and four pavilioned city gates. It is a garrison town, beautiful in its combination of green vistas and ancient, crumbling walls. The Chino-Japanese War, so fatal to many of the old institutions of Korea, diminished the ancient glory of Kang-wha. For two hundred and sixty years prior to this campaign, Kang-wha ranked with Song-do, Kang-chyu, Syu-won and Chyön-chyön as one of the O-to, or Five Citadels, upon which the safety of the Empire depended. It controlled a garrison of ten thousand troops; the various officials numbered nearly one thousand. The change in the destiny of the kingdom brought a turn in the fortunes of the island, and it is now administered by an official of little importance. It is still, however, the seat of government for a widely scattered region, and the centre of trade and industry for some thirty thousand people. Agriculture is the staple industry; stone-quarrying and mat-making are other means by which the population exists. At the water’s-side there are salt-pans; a certain amount of fishing, a little pottery-making, smelting, the weaving of coarse linen, to which work the wives of the farmers devote themselves, complete the occupation of the inhabitants. One pursuit, horse-breeding, for which Kang-wha was once famous, is now completely abandoned.

There are nine monasteries under the government of the island. Seven are situated upon the island; the chief of these is the fortified monastery of Chung-deung, the Temple of Histories, the sometime pillar of defence of the Kingdom, thirty li south of Kang-wha, famous as the scene of the reverse suffered by the French troops in 1866. Mun-su-sa, standing upon the mainland opposite, is included in this little colony of Buddhistic retreats, as is another, upon the island of Ma-eum-to, called Po-mun-sa, famous for the wildness of its scenery and for a natural rock temple in the side of the hill upon which it stands. The monks of Chung-deung-sa enjoyed military rank until quite recently. They were regarded as soldiers in times of national distress; they received Government allowances, food, and arms, in order to maintain them in a state of efficiency. Buddhism has lost much of its hold upon the islanders, although it existed before 1266. There is a branch of the English Mission (Seoul) in Kang-wha, under the administration of the Rev. Mark Napier Trollope, whose notes upon this island were presented in a paper which their author read before the local branch of the Royal Asiatic Society during my stay in Korea. They materially assisted me to collect the interesting data from which these few paragraphs have been compiled.

I stayed five weeks in Kang-wha monastery, preparing the skeleton of this present volume. Having gone there for a week at the outside, I found the quiet and solitude of the spot such a sanctuary from trouble, and such a panacea to the nerves, that I was loath to abandon it. After a few days in the cramped confinement of the native junk which had conveyed me from Chemulpo, delaying much en route, it was pleasant to stretch my limbs again upon the shore. Landing one morning at daybreak, I fell upon the unsuspecting guardian of the English Mission, Father Trollope, and moved off at a later hour in the day across country to the monastery. The monks were not at all disturbed by my intrusion. Although strangers are not such frequent visitors to this monastery as to those in the Diamond Mountains, their presence excites no comment, and they are allowed to go their way with that kindly indifference to their existence which is, under the circumstances, the height of courtesy. The Chief Abbot was informed of my arrival, and, after a little explanation, ordered a very airy building to be prepared for my reception. It was well raised from the ground, and, situated just below the main courtyard, afforded a magnificent view of the entire domain. In the distance I could see the farm-lands of the island and the sparkle of the sunlight upon the water; more within the picture, and quite near to my new home, were two wells, a running stream, and a stretch of mountain slopes, cool, fragrant, and overgrown with scrub and bush. Temples revealed themselves in a sea of foliage, through which the drifting breezes played soft music. At one end of this Hall of Entertainment were placed the cooking and eating paraphernalia, in the middle my camp-bed, and, overlooking the landscape, an improvised writing table with my books and papers. There was no element of unrest in the setting of my little camp. Every morning the Chief Abbot welcomed me to the glories of another day; in the evening we, through the medium of my interpreter, talked together upon an amazing variety of subjects—Buddha and Christ, this world and the next, Paris, London, America. Duties in the monastery would prevent these new friends from coming on certain nights; but they always forewarned me of their absence, never disturbing me at my work, never taking me by surprise. The sense of consideration and courtesy which their kindly hospitality displayed was manifested in countless ways. The small return which it was possible to make quite shamed me before them. Frequently, at midnight, when my lights were burning, the Abbot would walk across from his own apartments and force me to bed with many smiles and much gentle pressure, covering my manuscript with his hands and nodding towards my camp-bed. There was no screen to the front of my building, so it was always possible for them to observe the stranger within their gates. This inspection was most quietly carried on; indeed, if I turned to the open courtyard, those who, perhaps, had been noting the structure of my camp-bed, or the contents of my valise, hanging to air upon a stout rope, flitted away like ghosts. I was left, as I wished, in peaceful contemplation of my work and the splendour of the scenery around me.

Catering arrangements were quite simple during my stay in this monastery. Rice and eggs and fowls were procurable from the villages beyond the walls of the temple, and rice-flour or vegetables could be procured from the butterman of the monastery. It was my plan to take breakfast about ten o’clock in the morning, and to dine about six o’clock in the evening. Between these hours was my time for writing, and I was always fully occupied. Before breakfast I walked abroad or prepared my notes of the work for the day; after dinner I received my callers, arranging anything of interest in my notes when they were gone. Usually I witnessed the midnight gathering of the monks, listening, with pleasure, to the booming of the great bell of the monastery and the accompanying peals of smaller bells of less melodious volume and much shriller tone. The vibration in the air, as these wonderful noises broke upon it, filled the high woods with melody and the deep valleys with haunted strains as of spirit-music. After the midnight mass, when the echoes had died away, the delight of the moment was supreme. In utter weariness and most absolute contentment I stretched myself to slumber beneath the protecting draperies of the mosquito-curtains, within the vaulted spaciousness of my Hall of Entertainment.

A DAY OF FESTIVAL

Visitors to Chung-deung-sa were frequent during my stay, some attracted by the reported presence of a foreigner, others by their very genuine wish to sacrifice to the All-Blessed-One. Two Korean ladies of position arrived in the course of one morning to plead for the intercession of Buddha in their burden of domestic misery and unhappiness. Presenting the Korean equivalent for ten shillings to the funds of the monastery, they arranged with the Abbot for the celebration of a nocturnal mass in the Temple of the Great Heroes. During the afternoon the priests prepared the temple in which the celebration was to be held; elaborate screens of Korean pictorial design were carried into the temple from the cell of the Chief Abbot; large quantities of the finest rice were boiled. High, conical piles of sweetmeats and sacrificial cakes were placed in large copper dishes before the main altar, where the three figures of Buddha sat in their usual attitude of divine meditation. In front of each figure stood a carved, gilded tablet, twelve inches high, exactly opposite to which the food was placed, with bowls of burning incense at intervals between the dishes. Lighted candles, in long sticks, were placed at either end of the altar; above it, in the centre, serving as a lamp and hanging from a long gilded chain, was suspended a bowl of white jade, in which lay the smoking end of a lighted wick. Numerous side altars were similarly decorated. The furniture of the temple comprised a big drum, a heavy, cracked bell, cast in the thirteenth century, and a pair of cymbals. There were five monks; the two women sat, mute, upon the left of the Abbot. The four priests arranged themselves upon the right—one to the bell, one to the drum, and two to the pair of cymbals, in the playing of which they took turns. Upon each side of the temple, recessed right and left of the main altar, were mural representations of the Ten Judges. Save for the altar illuminations, the effect of which was to render the interior even gloomier and more eerie than usual, the building was in darkness.

The service began with the customary calling for Buddha. The Abbot tapped upon a bamboo cane; every one leant forward, their faces pressed down, and their foreheads resting upon the floor. The palms of their hands were extended beyond their heads in an attitude of reverence and humility. This prostration was accompanied by the intoning of a Thibetan chant, to the accompaniment of a brass gong, struck with a horn handle by the Abbot himself. Further prostrations followed upon the part of the entire assemblage, the women joining in this part of the service. For the most part they squatted silently and reverently in their corner of the temple. As the different services concluded the Abbot shifted the offerings before the main altar to their appointed stations before the smaller shrines, when the prayers proceeded afresh. Protracted overtures were made to the picture of the Ten Judges, before which the service apparently became fully choral. One priest danced amazing and grotesque steps, strangely reminiscent of a Kaffir war-dance, the sole of one foot striking the floor to the accompaniment of a clash of cymbals as the other leapt into the air. Another priest played upon the cracked bell, and a third kept up a dull, monotonous thumping on the drum. The sole idea of the priests, as conveyed to my mind by their celebration, seemed to be the breaking up of the solemn silence of the night by the most amazing medley of noises. At intervals, in the course of the unmusical colloquy between the drums, the cymbals, and the big bell, the monks chanted their dirges, which were, in turn, punctuated by the dislocated tapping of the Abbot’s brass bell and wooden knocker.

It was deafening, the most penetrating discord of which I have ever been the unfortunate auditor. With the conclusion of the exercises upon the cymbals, which were beaten together in a wide, circular sweep of the arms, then tossed aloft, caught, and clanged together after the fashion of the South African native with his spear and shield, the performing priest returned to the companion who relieved him. His more immediate activities over, he stood aside laughing and talking with his colleagues in a voice which quite drowned the chants in which his companions were engaged. Then, panting with his late exertions, he proceeded to fan himself with the most perfect unconcern, finally examining the hem of his jacket for lice; his search repaying him, he returned to his seat upon the floor and lifted up his voice with the others. After the sacrifices and prayers had been offered before the main altar and those upon the right and left, extra tables of fruit, apples, dates, nuts, cakes and incense, together with the previous dishes of rice, cakes, incense and bread, were spread before a small shrine placed in front of the screen. Rice was piled into a bowl, and, while the other monks were laughing and chattering among themselves in the temple itself during the progress of the sacrifice, the two women approached the shrine and made obeisance three times, then touching each dish with their fingers, bowed again and retired to their corner. At the same time three priests, breaking from the group that were talking by the doors of the building, sat down in the centre of the temple upon their praying-mats, seven or eight feet from the shrine. While one chanted Korean prayers from a roll of paper, another struck and rang the brass bell repeatedly, and the third hammered the gong. Throughout this part of the service the others chatted volubly, until they, too, joined in a chorus and pæan of thanksgiving, breaking off from that to chant, in low, suppressed tones, a not unimpressive litany.

Repetitions of the services I have described continued all night. Sometimes there was more noise, sometimes less, occasionally there was none, the tired, quavering voices of the sleepy priests tremulously chanting the requisite number of litanies. The women, who sat with wide-opened eyes, watched with interest and were satisfied. The priests seemed bored. Personally I was tired, dazed and stunned by the uproar. During the progress of this strange service, I was struck by the utter absence of that devotional fervour which was so characteristic of the priests in the principal monasteries of the Diamond Mountains.

The ceremony presently shifted from the Temple of the Great Heroes to the spacious courtyard in front of it. Here, when numerous fires had been lighted, the Abbot and three priests, together with the two Korean women, moved in procession. Their march was accompanied by the striking of many gongs and bells. The monks offered prayers round heaps of pine branches, which had been thrown together and lighted at the different spots. Chants and prayers were repeated, and the same clashing of instruments went on as before. It was not until a heavy rain descended that the worshippers returned to the seclusion of the temple. I felt, somehow, quite grateful to that shower of rain. In the morning, my interpreter told me that this progress in the courtyard formed a part of services which accompanied the offering of special prayers for rain. It would be a curious coincidence if this were so. Next day, at the hour of my breakfast, there was some desire to continue the celebration. My head was still aching with the jarring discord of the bells, gongs, and cymbals of the previous entertainment, and at the sight of the preparations my appetite vanished. Breakfast became impossible; I relinquished it to pray for peace. Happily this blessing was granted me; and it was decided to hold no further service—the rain, I presume, having appeared—and to devour the sacrifices. All that day the monks and their two guests ate the offerings. It was therefore a day of undisturbed quiet, and as my prayer also had been granted, each was satisfied, and we were a happy family.

RUSSIAN POST ON THE KOREAN FRONTIER

My little holiday passed all too quickly. One day I found myself preparing very sorrowfully to return to Seoul. This accomplished, the news of my intended journey was quickly bruited abroad by my servants. During these days curio-dealers crowded the compound of the Station Hotel, where, made very comfortable by the kindly forethought of Mr. and Mrs. Emberley, I was still living. There is little enough to buy in Seoul: quaint, brass cooking-utensils; iron, inlaid with silver; tobacco boxes, jade cups, fans, screens, and scrolls. My purchases were few; the native furniture, massive presses, and cabinets faced with copper plates, and small tea-tables, attracting me more than anything else. The Emperor had already sent a present of silk and fans to my hotel, and, with these few remaining articles, my stock of Korean relics was completed. The dealers were importunate, and crowded into the private apartments of the hotel like bleating sheep into a pen. Remonstrances were in vain, and I found the specific cure for their pestiferous attentions to be administered best in the shape of a little vigorous kicking. They took the cuffing with much good humour, and retired to the courtyard, where, at intervals in the day, a plaintive voice would be heard calling upon His Highness to inspect the treasures of his slave. His Highness, however, had concluded his inspection.

The atmosphere in these hot days in Seoul was very bad; the air was heavy with malodorous vapour; the days were muggy and the nights damp. The steaming heat of the capital emphasised the wisdom of an immediate departure, and I hastened my exodus, touched up with a little ague and a troublesome throat. The endless business of obtaining servants, guides, and horses was repeated, until at last the day of my removal was arranged and the hour of actual departure fixed. The prospect was alluring—a journey from Seoul to Vladivostock, through a wild and desolate region, nearly eight hundred miles in length, lay before me. Much of it was unexplored. It was the chance of a lifetime, and, in thus embarking upon it, I was very happy. My last farewells were said; my last calls had been paid—the kindly hospitality of Seoul is not forgotten. The day had come at last, the horses were pawing in the courtyard. My effects, my guns, and camp-bed, my tent and stores, were packed and roped. The horses had been loaded; the hotel account had been settled, when my interpreter quietly told me that my servants had struck for ten dollars Mexican—one sovereign—monthly increase in the wages of each. Mr. Emberley stood out against the transaction; I offered to compound with half; they were obdurate. It seemed to me that a crisis was impending. I was too tired and too cross to remonstrate. I raised my offer to eight dollars; it was refused—the servants were dismissed. Uproar broke out in the courtyard, which Mr. Emberley pacified by inducing the boys to accept my last offer—a rise of eight dollars Mexican. My head-servant, the brother of my interpreter, repudiated the arrangement, but the significance of this increase had assumed great importance. It was necessary to be firm. I think now that it was unwise to have entertained any change at all in the standard of payment. Upon the question of the additional two dollars I stood firm; nothing more would be given. The interpreter approached me to intimate that if his brother did not go he also would stay behind. I looked at him for a moment, at last understanding the plot, and struck him. He ran into the courtyard and yelled that he was dead—that he had been murdered. The grooms in charge of the horses gathered round him with loud cries of sympathy. Mr. Emberley called them to him and explained the position of affairs. I strode into the compound. The head groom came up to me, demanding an increase of thirty dollars, Korean currency, upon the terms which he had already accepted; he wanted, further, three-quarters of the contract price to be paid in advance; one quarter was the original stipulation. I refused the thirty dollars, and thrashed him with my whip.

The end of my journey for the moment had come, with a vengeance. The head groom stormed and cursed and ran raving in and out of the crowd. He then came for me with a huge boulder, and, as I let out upon his temple, the riot began. My baggage was thrown off the horses and stones flew through the air. I hit and slashed at my assailants and for a few minutes became the centre of a very nasty situation. Servants and grooms, my interpreter, and a few of the spectators went at it keenly while the fight continued. In the end, Mr. Emberley cleared his courtyard and recovered my kit; but I was cut a little upon the head and my right hand showed a compound fracture—native heads are bad things to hammer. Postponement was now more than ever essential; my fears about my health were realised. By nightfall upon the day of this outbreak signs of sickness had developed; the pain had increased in my hand and arm; my head was aching; my throat was inflamed. I was advised to leave at once for Japan; upon the next day I sailed, proposing to go to Yokohama and thence to Vladivostock, starting the expedition from the Russian fortress. However, by the time my steamer arrived at Japan, I was in the clutch of enteric fever. Further travel was out of the question, and when they moved me from an hotel in Yokohama to a cabin upon a Japanese steamer, which was to carry me to England, in my mind I had bidden farewell to the countries of this world, for the doctor told me that I was dying.

APPENDIX I
SCHEDULE OF TRAIN SERVICE

Leave Day Arrive
Port Arthur Tuesday
and
Thursday		 Moscow
13 days, 2 hours, 42 minutes
Dalny

Through trains from Moscow arrive at Dalny and Port Arthur on Wednesdays and Saturdays.

The train comprises first- and second-class cars and dining-car.

The cost of the journey is almost prohibitive if compared with ocean steamer charges.

The train service is very unreliable and subject to many interruptions.

The steamers of the Chinese Eastern Railway Company are scheduled to make the connection with Korea upon arrival of the train. Time required, from twenty-four to forty-eight hours.

The estimate of the length of time occupied by the journey between Korea and Japan upon the completion of the Seoul-Fusan Railway is forty-four hours.

Chemulpo or Seoul to Fusan10hours
Fusan to Moji by sea4”
Moji to Kobe15”
Kobe to Tokio15”

APPENDIX II
RETURN OF ALL SHIPPING ENTERED AT THE OPEN PORTS OF KOREA DURING THE YEAR 1902.

Flag Chemulpo Fusan Won-san
Sailing Steam Sailing Steam Sailing Steam
Number of Vessels Tons Number of Vessels Tons Number of Vessels Tons Number of Vessels Tons Number of Vessels Tons Number of Vessels Tons
British — — 3 7198 — — 1 4800 — — — —
Korean 167 4031 187 34,877 12 308 77 32,633 5 190 94 22,057
Chinese 73 406 — — — — — — — — —
French — — — — 1 1744 — — — — — —
German — — 1 1379 — — — — — — — —
Italian — — — — — — 1 2791 — — — —
Japanese 205 12,945 299 186,050 943 28,447 685 326,858 77 8238 189 106,755
Norwegian — — — — — — 1 25 — — 1 25
Russian — — 42 58,332 — — 21 12,555 4 294 41 22,752
United States 6 162 1 15 — — — — — — — —
Total 451 17,544 533 287,851 956 30,499 786 379,662 86 8722 325 151,589
” 1901 571 18,839 465 220,053 765 30,147 686 312,029 65 6333 259 112,583
Average, five years, 1898-1902 596 19,968 415 206,996 726 27,086 569 287,725 63 6085 243 121,791
Flag Chin-am-po Mok-po Kun-san[3]
Sailing Steam Sailing Steam Sailing Steam
Number of Vessels Tons Number of Vessels Tons Number of Vessels Tons Number of Vessels Tons Number of Vessels Tons Number of Vessels Tons
British — — — — — — — — — — — —
Korean 412 6897 200 26,898 9 154 92 20,694 35 666 101 13,478
Chinese 264 3113 — — 1 4 — — 1 8 — —
French — — — — — — — — — — — —
German — — — — — — — — — — — —
Italian — — — — — — — — — — — —
Japanese 126 5349 52 31,263 62 3672 281 144,422 33 818 66 22,297
Norwegian — — — — — — — — — — — —
Russian — — — — — — — — — — — —
United States 53 1408 31 465 — — — — — — — —
Total 855 16,767 283 58,626 72 3830 373 165,116 69 1492 167 35,775
” 1901 870 18,424 203 35,826 75 4572 320 133,494 111 2731 141 36,163
Average, five years, 1898-1902 716 14,678 195 36,793 100 4655 278 121,014 — — — —
Flag Ma-sam-po[3] Songchin[3] Total for Korea
Sailing Steam Sailing Steam Sailing Steam
Number of Vessels Tons Number of Vessels Tons Number of Vessels Tons Number of Vessels Tons Number of Vessels Tons Number of Vessels Tons
British — — — — — — — — — — 4 11,998
Korean 1 31 2 847 — — 92 14,298 641 12,277 845 165,782
Chinese — — — — — — — — 339 3531 — —
French — — — — — — — — 1 1744 — —
German — — — — — — — — — — 1 1379
Italian — — — — — — — — — — 1 2791
Japanese 61 796 205 28,902 9 858 127 30,646 1516 61,123 1904 877,193
Norwegian — — — — — — — — — — 2 50
Russian — — — — — — 9 7583 4 294 113 101,222
United States — — — — — — — — 59 1570 32 480
Total 62 827 207 29,749 9 858 228 52,527 2560 80,539 2902 1,160,895
” 1901 72 1033 169 20,223 4 294 196 32,565 2533 82,373 2439 902,936
Average, five years, 1898-1902 — — — — — — — — 2331 75,352 2053 833,334

Note.—Japanese shipping (steamers of the Nippon Yusen Kaisha, Osaka Shosen Kaisha and the Hori Company) easily occupies the first place. The Korean share in the trade is increasing, and Russian steamers show a larger tonnage in Korean ports than before.

APPENDIX III
RETURN OF PRINCIPAL ARTICLES OF EXPORT TO FOREIGN COUNTRIES FROM THE OPEN PORTS OF KOREA DURING THE YEARS 1901-1902.

Articles 1902 1901 Average,
Five Years,
1898-1902
Quantity Value Quantity Value
£ £ £
Barley Lbs. 359,600 395 100,133 111 1165
Beans, all kinds ” 107,887,600 186,293 114,273,600 194,115 185,839
Bêche-de-mer ” 312,666 6517 447,466 6820 7199
Cattle and live-stock Head 6552 19,383 13,611 17,288 11,514[4]
Copper Lbs. 264,400 4041 300,533 6448 —[5]
Fish, dried, salt and manure ” 4,909,600 8418 7,645,066 14,814 11,782
Ginseng, red ” 85,201 122,304 24,575 25,670 77,386[6]
” white ” 3333 213 16 121 109
Gold ore — — 5409 — 7205 —[5]
Hides Lbs. 3,981,600 70,815 3,500,400 66,396 53,652
Millet ” 213,333 309 439,866 437 1539
Nutgalls ” 67,866 875 99,866 1308 1866
Paper ” 173,066 3164 133,200 2575 3161
Rice ” 126,401,066 359,804 184,566,266 427,459 314,081
Seaweed ” 2,596,666 9354 3,027,600 9118 8744
Skins of all kinds Pieces 29,660 2239 21,077 1392 2039
Tallow Lbs. 421,466 3015 306,266 2185 1055
Whaleflesh and blubber — — 4737 — 22,858 11,410
Wheat Lbs. 11,751,333 18,022 2,787,866 3682 9523
Other exports — — 20,727 — 26,822 44,641
Total — — 846,034 — 836,824 746,705

APPENDIX IV
RETURN OF PRINCIPAL ARTICLES OF IMPORTS TO FOREIGN COUNTRIES DURING THE YEARS 1901-1902.

Articles 1902 1901 Average,
Five Years,
1898-1902
Quantity Value Quantity Value
£ £ £
Cotton goods—
Shirtings, grey and white—
British Pieces 389,730 172,515 402,156 176,892 159,763
Japanese ” 18,926 3934 19,236 3933 2328
T-cloths ” 18,771 4169 29,798 6782 4400
Drills—
British and American ” 20,045 9274 34,970 16,250 9546
Japanese ” 2032 1036 919 188 298
Turkey-red cloths
British ” 6357 1873 6815 1928 1934
Japanese ” 9763 1539 10,274 1904 1726
Lawns and muslins ” 100,513 10,133 95,460 9750 12,915
Lenos ” 33,602 8797 38,897 10,296 9062
Sheetings—
British and American ” 134,282 57,342 189,554 80,177 60,164
Japanese ” 173,907 72,098 171,235 72,303 52,961
Cotton reps ” 21,094 9461 28,412 14,598 7707
Japanese piece-goods ” 658,462 65,407 909,811 88,069 75,405
Piece-goods, non-Japanese ” 39,356 3054 39,699 3517 8600
Yarn—
British and Indian Lbs. 111,333 3923 120,933 4193 5641
Japanese ” 4,154,533 98,933 5,028,800 119,781 105,454
Chinese ” — 4 12
Other cottons — — 23,282 33,235 42,003
Total 546,772 643,808 559,919
Woollen goods 7846 16,618 8235
Miscellaneous piece-goods 1701 1645 1148
Metals 59,266 74,156 54,218
Sundries—
Arms, accoutrements, and ammunition 9556 38,606 17,979
Bags and ropes for packing 31,408 28,464 25,011
Clothing and haberdashery 21,918 17,916 14,260
Cotton—
Raw Lbs. 239,066 3806 447,866 7883 5244
Wadding ” 652,606 12,340 688,533 14,650 14,596
Dyes ” 259,333 8361 327,466 13,791 8814
Flour ” 1,937,066 7433 1,899,066 7860 6724
Grain and pulse ” 3,998,266 9337 3,110,133 6348 14,495
Grass-cloth 57,310 53,979 46,823
Machinery 14,608 12,546 8816
Matches Gross 576,629 18,110 562,338 17,747 15,991
Mining supplies 46,659 39,267 28,859
Kerosene oil—
American Gallons 3,461,980 77,988 2,463,631 62,833 55,691[7]
Japanese ” 760 17 19,260 530 1873
Paper Lbs. 878,666 7654 901,733 8033 6475
Provisions 19,154 — 19,359 15,695
Railway plant and material 46,112 — 27,963 33,816
Rice Lbs. 11,447,466 40,675 10,963,200 40,924 24,348[8]
Saké and samshu 15,924 — 14,228 13,247
Salt Lbs. 17,491,733 7998 28,845,200 13,879 13,031
Silk piece-goods 86,444 — 125,381 81,911
Sugar Lbs. 2,501,600 15,039 1,992,933 12,588 10,984
Tobacco, cigars, and cigarettes 20,273 — 17,425 14,576
Other sundries 188,642 — 161,838 135,910
Total 766,766 — 764,038 615,169
Grand total 1,382,351 — 1,500,265 1,238,689

APPENDIX V
COAST TRADE BETWEEN TREATY PORTS IN NATIVE PRODUCE (NET)

Port 1902 1901
Imports Exports Imports Exports
Yen Yen Yen Yen
Chemulpo 2,517,819 91,443 1,991,757 98,364
Fusan 443,235 587,513 455,256 445,963
Won-san 514,936 573,025 306,909 626,965
Chin-am-po 83,805 803,828 34,662 708,561
Mok-po 105,577 817,359 104,926 456,632
Kun-san 73,691 527,187 57,122 472,850
Ma-sam-po 10,896 191,547 15,173 110,968
Syöng-chin 94,997 84,892 78,439 74,829
Total 3,844,956 3,676,794 3,044,244 2,995,132
” coast trade[9] 7,521,750 6,039,376

APPENDIX VI
CUSTOMS REVENUE

Year Amount Exchange
Currency Sterling
Yen £ s. d.
1902 1,204,776 122,783 2 0½
1901 1,325,414 135,303 2 0½
1900 1,097,095 109,710 2 0
1899 902,955 90,296 2 0
1898 1,000,451 101,087 2 0¼
Average, five years — 111,836 —

APPENDIX VII
GOLD EXPORT TO FOREIGN COUNTRIES

Year Amount
Currency Sterling Exchange
Yen £ s. d.
1902 5,064,106 516,961 2 0½
1901 4,993,351 509,738 2 0½
1900 3,633,050 363,305 2 0
1899 2,933,382 293,338 2 0
1898 2,375,725 240,047 2 0¼
From Value
1902 1901 1900
Yen Yen Yen
Chemulpo 2,538,101 2,556,095 1,927,665
Fusan 104,915 122,968 121,809
Won-san 1,361,580 1,668,245 1,425,576
Chin-am-po 1,053,800 646,043 158,000
Mok-po 5,710 — —
5,064,106 4,993,351 3,633,050
To Value
1902 1901 1900
Yen Yen Yen
China 59,805 136,150 567,670
Japan 5,004,300 4,857,201 3,065,380
Total 5,064,106 4,993,351 3,633,050

Exchange sterling, 2s. 0½d.—2s. 0d.½.—2s. 0d.

APPENDIX VIII
TABLE OF MINERALS

Gold.

Silver.

Silver and Lead.

Tin.

Iron Ores, Magnetite and Limonite.

Mercury.

Mangan.

Coal.

The preceding minerals are yielded by the different provinces.