Chapter VI.

News of defeat reaches Seoul.... panic.... divided councils.... lack of troops.... general exodus.... indescribable confusion.... straw shoes at a premium.... Princes sent away.... the king leaves Seoul.... Yi Hang-bok attends the Queen.... riotous citizens.... slaves burn the deeds.... palaces in flames.... royal party dwindles.... drenching rain.... the king goes without dinner.... welcome relief.... Japanese approach Seoul.... the race between Kato and Konishi.... no resistance.... the Han left undefended.... an empty victory.... Hideyi’s quarters.... the Japanese in Seoul.... the king orders the Im-jin River guarded.... the king enters P‘yŭng-yang.... a coward.... the Im-jin guarded.... the Japanese impetus checked.

Meanwhile the city of Seoul was waiting breathless for news of a victory by Gen. Sil Yip. The terrors of the horde of half-savage soldiers from the islands of Japan had passed from mouth to mouth and all, from the king to the humblest coolie, knew that Gen. Sil Yip alone stood between them and that dreaded host. One morning a naked soldier was seen approaching the South Gate on a run. He bore the marks of battle and as he passed under the great arch of the gate a hundred hands were stretched[stretched] out to greet him and a hundred voices demanded news of the battle. He cried, “I am one of the followers of Sil Yip and I come to tell the city that yesterday he fell at the hand of the Japanese. I have escaped with my life and I am come to tell you that flight is your only hope.” The people were fearfully agitated. The evil news spread from mouth to mouth and a great wailing arose from the multitude that thronged the streets.

It was the last day of the fourth moon and that night the king, not knowing at what moment the enemy might be thundering at his gates, took up his quarters in a secluded part of the palace, “The Old Palace” as it is now called, and gathered about him all his courtiers and officers and held a great council. The only question was, “Where shall we[we] go?”

Yi San-ha the Minister of War said “The Court should remove to P‘yŭng-yang,” but Yi Hang-bok, an official who was destined to figure prominently in the war, said, “It will not be enough to go to P‘yŭng-yang. We must send and ask aid of China.” On the other hand Kim Kwi-yŭng and a host of other officials said, “No, the king should stay right here and defend his capital.” The king himself, after listening to all that had to be said, agreed with the majority that it would be best to stay and defend the city. He said, “The ancestral temple with all the tablets of my illustrious ancestors is here. How can I go and leave them? Let the Minister of War immediately detail troops to man the walls.” But it was just here that difficulty arose and it showed clearly why the Minister of War had counselled flight. The city wall has thirty thousand battlements and each battlement has three embrasures, but in the whole city there were only seven thousand troops. This was not a tenth part the number that would be required to man the walls. This lack of soldiers was due to the fact that in the long centuries of peace it had become customary for the government[become customary for the government] to receive a money equivalent in place of military service. As a result only the very poorest of the poor were enrolled in the army, and the service consequently suffered. This bad custom, while it argues corrupt practices among the officials, does not prove the absence of courage or faithfulness among the people, and we shall find that the people were as a rule true to their duty when they were properly led.

To add to the difficulty of the situation, on that very night there was an overwhelming exodus of the people. High and low, rich and poor, young and old, thronged out of the city by every gate and made for some place of fancied safety in the country. The very warders of the gates fled and left them wide open. The great bell at Chong-no remained silent that night for lack of someone to ring it. Very many took refuge in the palace enclosure and men and women, horses and cattle and goods of all kinds were mixed together in indescribable confusion. Wailing and shouting and crying on all sides added to the confusion. The king could do nothing to quiet the disturbance, so he sat down in his private apartments attended by two eunuchs. Meanwhile the lawless element among the people was trying to make capital out of the confusion, and all night long the palace was being looted by these vicious characters, while palace women fled half naked and screaming with terror from room to room.

The king’s relatives all gathered at his doors and begged with tears and imprecations that he would not go and leave them. An order went forth from the palace that all the straw shoes and sandals that could be found should be brought in. When the officials saw these they said to the king “This great pile of straw shoes looks as if flight was being prepared for. We had better take them and burn them all and then shut the city gates so that the people cannot escape and leave the place undefended.” This advice was probably not followed, for by this time the king himself began to see that flight would be the only possible plan, and it was probably at his order that the shoes had been prepared.

Minister Yu Sŭng-nyŭng said, “Let us send the two Princes to the provinces where they will be safe and let the different governors be instructed to collect troops and send them on as fast as possible.” This seemed sound advice and the king’s oldest son, by a concubine, for the Queen had borne no sons, was sent to the province of Ham-gyŭng, and Prince Sun-wha went into Kang-wŭn Province.

When night came the king, who saw that it was useless to attempt to hold the city, sent to the keeper of the Ancestral Temple and ordered him to send the ancestral tablets on toward P‘yŭng-yang. All night long the preparations for departure were pushed and just at day break the king called for his horse and, mounting, rode out the New Gate attended by his personal following, a host of the officials and a crowd of terrified citizens who well knew that his going meant perfect anarchy. The Queen was aided in making her escape by Yi Hang-bok who under cover of the darkness led her by the light of a torch to the palace gate. She asked his name and being told she said, “I have to thank you, and I am sorry to have put you to this trouble.” It is said that he had all along felt sure the Japanese would enter Seoul and that he had sat for days in his house refusing food and drink. At the end of that time he roused himself and called for food. Having eaten he prepared for a long journey and then went to the palace. One of his favorite concubines followed him and asked what they were to do at home, but he did not answer. She plucked him by the sleeve but he drew his sword and cut the sleeve off leaving it in her hands. He felt that his first duty was at the palace. We have seen that he did good work there in looking after the welfare of the Queen. He secured her a chair at the palace gate and they joined the royal cavalcade on its way northward.

As the king and his escort passed through “Peking Pass” day was breaking in the east and a last look at the city showed it to be on fire in many places. The populace had thrown off all restraint and had looted the treasure houses and the store houses. In one of the latter were kept all the deeds of the government slaves. Each slave was deeded property, the same as real estate, and the deeds of the government slaves were deposited in the Chang-yé-wŭn. At that time there was nominally no lower middle class at all. Society was composed of the upper class and their retainers. Almost every man in the lower stratum of society was nominally the slave of some nobleman though in many places it was a nominal serfdom only. At the same time the master had the right to sell them at will and they were in duty bound to assume mourning at his death. It was this class of people, then, that arose and burned the store-house which contained the deeds and thereby secured liberty. Another building contained deeds of all private slaves. This too was made an objective point the moment the restraint of government was taken off. They also saw the royal granary in flames where the rice, cloth and money were stored. The king’s private treasure house inside the palace grounds was also burning. The Kyŭng-bok Palace, the Chang-dŭk Palace and the Chang-gyŭng Palace were all in flames. It must have been a depressing sight to the king and his court but there was no time to waste in mourning over the desolation in Seoul. No one knew at what moment the enemy might appear over the southern hills; and so the royal party pressed on toward the north. When they arrived at Sŭk-ta-ri in the district of Ko-yang it was raining furiously and by the time they arrived at Pyŭk-je-yŭk the entire party were dripping wet.

Up to this point the cavalcade had kept together very well but there were many among them who had not intended to keep on with the royal party and there were probably many more whose good intentions were so dampened by the elements that they gave it up. From this point on the royal escort was much reduced. The king here dismounted, entered a hostelry and sat down and began to beat upon the ground with his whip and to weep. As the Ministers gathered around him he said, “What shall we do in this terrible haste?” Yi Hang-bok answered, “When we get to Eui-ju, if we find it impossible to stop there we must push on into China and seek aid from the Emperor.” The king was pleased with this and said, “That is just what I want to do.” But Yu Sŭng-nyŭng said, “Not so, for if the king leaves Korean soil the dynasty will be at an end and Korea will be lost. The soldiers of Ham-gyŭng Province are still to be heard from and those from Kang-wŭn Province as well; so there is no call for such talk as this about leaving Korean soil.” He likewise administered a sharp reproof to Yi Hang-bok who confessed himself to have been too hasty.

After a short rest they took the road again, ever goaded on by the dread of pursuit, and as they passed He-eum-nyŭng the rain came down again in torrents. The palace women were riding horses that were small and weak and they could go but slowly. The riders went along with their hands over their faces, weeping and wailing loudly. By the time they reached the Im-jin River it was dark, and a more wretched company can hardly be imagined. The horses were up to their knees in mud and were well-nigh[knees in mud and were well-nigh] exhausted. All were nearly famished. It was pitchy dark and the party had become scattered. The case looked about as hopeless as it well could; but Yi Hang-bok was a man of tremendous energy, and he realised the gravity of the situation. So halting the cavalcade he dismounted and managed after great exertions to collect the entire party once more. It was so dark that it was impossible to think of crossing the river by ferry, until someone thought of the happy plan of setting fire to some of the buildings on the bluff beside the stream. By this baleful light the sorry and bedraggled multitude somehow effected a crossing and from that point on the fear of pursuit was greatly lessened. By this time food and rest had become imperative both for man and beast. Those who had been accustomed to no greater hardship than lolling on divans in palaces found a ride of thirty miles in the mud and rain, without rest or nourishment, a severe test. When the cavalcade came at midnight to the hostlery of Tong-pa-yŭk in the prefecture of P’a-ju they found that the prefect Hŭ-jin and the prefect of Chang-dan, Ku Hyo-yŭn, had provided an excellent supper for the king and the Ministers, but before these worthies could get settled in the apartments provided for them, the grooms and coolies and others, rendered desperate by hunger, rushed into the kitchen to find what had been provided for them, and finding that they had been forgotten[forgotten] they began to help themselves to the food that had been prepared for the royal table. An attempt was made to stop them but they were in no mood to be stopped. The result was that the king and his Ministers went hungry. His Majesty asked for a cup of wine but none could be found. He asked for a cup of tea but that too had disappeared. One of the servants of the party happened to have a cake of Chinese sugar tucked under his head-band. This he drew out and it was dissolved in some warm water and formed the repast of the king that night.

In the morning when it became time to resume the journey it was found to the dismay of all that the coolies had decamped and left the royal party high and dry. But even while they were discussing this sorry plight the governor of Whang-hă province and the prefect of Sö-heung appeared on the scene with two hundred soldiers and fifty or sixty horses. They had come expressly to escort the king northward, and truly they came in the very nick of time. They had with them a few measures of barley and this was doled out to the hungry people. As soon as possible a start was made and at noon they arrived at Cho-hyŭn-ch’an forty li from Sŭng-do where they found plenty of food, as the governor had ordered it to be prepared. This was the second day of the fifth moon. That night they entered the welcome gates of Song-do, which, almost exactly two centuries before, had witnessed the overthrow of the Koryŭ dynasty. This was the first time the royal party could really breathe freely, for they could be easily warned of the approach of the enemy, now that soldiers were on the lookout. So it was decided that they should rest a day at this place.

The king came out and seated himself in the upper story of the South Gate and all the people gathered before him. He said to them “Now that this war is upon us, if there is anything that you would say, say on.” Without hesitation they replied, “This war has been caused by Yi San-han (one of the Ministers), and by Kim Kong-yang,” (the father of a favorite concubine). The people were very angry with them. They also said, “You should recall the Minister Chöng.” This man had been banished because of factional rivalry. To the latter proposition the king readily assented, glad probably to find some way to please the populace.

It was on this day, the third of the fifth moon, that the Japanese entered Seoul.

It will be necessary for us to pause here and note the method of the Japanese approach to the capital. A glance at the map of Korea shows that there are three great highways leading up from Fusan to Seoul. One is the main or middle road leading by Yang-san, Mi-ryang, Ch’ŭng-do, Tă-gu and soon up the valley of the Nak-tong River, over the great Cho-ryŭng (Pass). The division led by Konishi came up the peninsula at double-quick by this road. It was before this division that Gen. Yi Il had fled. A second road is to the east of this, proceeding by way of Choa-p‘yŭng, Ul-san, Kyöng-ju, Yong-jin, Sil-yăng, Kun-wi, Pi-on and Mun-gyŭng. Kato led the division which took this road, but his forces joined those of Konishi below Cho-ryŭng and the two crossed it together. The forces of both Kato and Konishi were in the battle which witnessed the massacre of Sil Yip’s forces in the cul de sac which we have described. After this battle the two rival leaders again separated and hastened toward Seoul by different routes. Konishi kept on by the main road by way of Chuk-san, Yong-in, crossing the Han River just below Han-gang and entering the city by the South Gate. Kato took a more easterly road and came via Yŭ-ju and Yang-geun crossing the Han seventy li above, at Yang-jin. But a third division under Kuroda and other generals had branched off to the west at the very start. They proceeded by way of Kim-hă and U-do and then, leaving Kyung-sang Province they crossed over to Chi-re and Kim-san in Chŭl-la Province. Then crossing the Ch’u-p’ung Pass they entered Ch’ung-ch’ŭng Province and then made for Seoul by way of Yong-dong, Ch’ung-ju and so up by the main road.

The reason for the different divisions taking different routes may have been because of the necessity of obtaining forage, but it was also in part due to the jealousy which existed between Kato and Konishi, for each of these men was desirous[desirous] of getting to Seoul before the other.

This great triple[triple] army met with no real resistance on its way to Seoul. The country was utterly unprepared for war, the principal lack being in competent leaders rather than in number of troops. It was the first quick, sharp stroke on the part of the Japanese which seems to have paralysed the Koreans. The banners of the great host of the invaders spread out over a thousand li and at intervals of twenty or thirty li they built fortifications from which they signalled to each other at night. The only aggressive move on the part of the Koreans up to this time was the effort of Captain Wŭn Ho to prevent or at least delay the passage of the Han by Kato’s forces, at Yang-jin, by destroying all the boats. But the Japanese were not delayed long by this, for the neighboring hill-sides furnished them with logs for rafts on which they soon crossed and hastened on to anticipate the troops of Konishi in the occupation of Seoul.

It was on the fourth day of the fifth moon that the eager forces of Konishi swept down to the banks of the Han River opposite the town of Han-gaug. This river is a real barrier to an army unprepared with pontoon or other boats and the Japanese troops might have been held in check for some considerable time. But the whole make-up of the Japanese warrior was calculated to inspire terror, and no sooner did this countless horde show itself on the opposite shore than Gen. Kim Myŭng-wŭn, who had been put in charge of the river defenses, came to the conclusion that he would have more than a mere river between himself and that gruesome array. He therefore threw all his engines of defense into the Han and fled with all his following to the Im-jin river, the next natural barrier between the Japanese and the king. At first thought this flight of Gen. Kim would seem to be an act of pure cowardice, but when we remember that he had only a few hundred men under him while on the opposite bank a hundred thousand men were clamoring for a passage across, we cannot wonder that he found it necessary to retreat. He did it in proper style by first destroying his military engines lest they should fall into the hands of the enemy.

The king before leaving Seoul placed Gen. Yi Yang-wŭn in charge of the city and its defenses, but when he learned of the flight of Gen. Kim from the river he rightly judged that the city could not be[be] held by any such force as was at his command; so he in turn beat a retreat and went north to the town of Yang-ju. The result was that when the Japanese succeeded in crossing the river and pushed on to the gates of Seoul they found only an undefended and half depopulated city of which to take inglorious possession. It is said that only a few hours elapsed after the entry of Konishi’s forces before[before] those of Kato hastened in from the east, disappointed and chagrined to find that they had been beaten in the race; but they were probably consoled by the fact that long before the goal had been reached the prize had taken wing.

Hideyi, the General-in-chief of the Japanese forces, took up his quarters in the Ancestral Temple from which the tablets of the royal line had been removed. This was looked upon by the Koreans as an act of sacrilege and queer tales are told of how during that first night, while the burning of the city was going on, a Japanese soldier would drop dead every few minutes without visible cause. It is for this reason, as some say, that Hideyi removed to the Nam-pyul-gung, known as the place where Chinese embassies have been lodged, and now the site of the Imperial Altar.

Before many days had elapsed the people found out that the coming of the Japanese did not mean universal slaughter as they had supposed, and gradually they returned to their homes in the city. They reopened their shops and so long as they attended to their own affairs they were unmolested by the Japanese. Indeed they adapted themselves readily to the new order of things and drove a lucrative trade with the invaders. The latter were strict in the watch of the city and no one could go out or come in without showing a passport. When the Japanese had exhausted the supplies in Seoul they pushed out into the country and laid the surrounding villages under contribution. Koreans were even found who would tell them where they could go with the hope of finding booty, and acted as guides to them. Among the more loyal citizens a plot was gotten up to assassinate the guard, but it was betrayed to the enemy and the plotters were seized and burned to death after indescribable tortures. It[It] is said so many perished in that holocaust that their collected bones made a huge mound.

When Gen. Kim Myŭng-wŭn fled from the defenses of the Han and came to the Im-jin he immediately sent a letter to the king at Song-do telling him of the arrival of the Japanese, his own retreat and the entry of the Japanese into Seoul. The king did not censure him, for retreat was the only way open to him; so a messenger was dispatched ordering him to make haste and get together as many soldiers of Kyŭng-geui and Whang-hă Provinces as possible and make a firm stand at the Im-jin River. Gen. Sin Kil was sent to aid in this work. No sooner were these orders given than the royal party resumed their journey northward in haste, and at night they reached the village of Keum-gyo in Keum-ch’ŭn district. Here the escort of the king bivouacked in the open air. It was discovered with dismay that the ancestral tablets had been overlooked in the haste attendant upon the departure from Song-do. So one of the king’s relatives started back after them and succeeded in bringing the precious relics on.

On the seventh of the moon the royal party crossed the Tă-dong River and entered the gates of P’yŭng-yang. Here there was food and drink in plenty and all the other luxuries of life. For the first time since the flight began the king enjoyed a season of real rest. The royal cortège was escorted into the city by the governor, Song Wŭn-siu, who came out with three thousand troops and met him on the way.

Two days later a messenger was seen approaching at a rapid pace. He was swiftly ferried across the river and hurried into the king’s presence where he said, “Yi Yang-wŭn, the defender of Seoul has fled, and the city is in the possession of the enemy.” The king exclaimed, “This is bad news indeed, we must appoint someone whose work it shall be to continually attempt to retake the capital.” He thereupon appointed Gen. Yu Hong to that arduous and dangerous position. He was to go with three thousand men and do what he could to stop the progress of the Japanese and if possible regain control of the capital. Gen. Yu received the appointment with the worst possible grace. After the headlong flight with all its hardships and privations, to be told that he must go back with three thousand men and meet what he supposed was a blood-thirsty horde of savages was too much for his patriotism; so he stayed in his rooms and sulked. Two days passed and still he did not start. The king called him up and said, “How is it that you let the time slip by like this when you ought to be on the way to Seoul with troops?” The mighty warrior replied, “I fear Your Majesty will have to excuse me from this duty as I am suffering from a boil on my leg.” One of the courtiers, Yi Han-guk took him to task saying, “How is it that after receiving such favors at the hand of the king you shrink from this duty? You are a coward and are afraid to go. You are like a sulky dancing-girl who refuses either to dance or sing. You are not only not brave but you are not even clever. Do you suppose you can impose on His Majesty with any such story as this about a boil on your leg?” The king was immensely pleased with this well merited rebuke and laughed long and loud at the discomfitted general, but finally said, “Well, then, since our doughty Gen. Yu cannot go let Gen. Han Eung-in go instead.” The next day Gen. Han started south with 5000 troops picked from the northern border[border] guard, and in good time he arrived at the banks of the Im-jin River, midway between Song-do and Seoul. This was the great strategic position that must be held at any cost. It was the key to the north, the gate-way to Whang-hă Province and to P‘yŭng-an Province beyond.

Now that the king and the court were in comparative safety, an attempt was made to bring together the loose ends of things and make some sort of headway against the Japanese. Gen. Yi Hang-bok who had so gallantly escorted the Queen from the palace, the night of the exodus from Seoul was made Minister of War. A council was called to discuss the demands made by the people of Song-do in reference to the punishment of certain officials whom they had accused. The result was that Yi San-ha was banished to P‘yŭng-ha but the king refused to punish the father of his favorite concubine.

We notice that the military prowess of the Japanese, their thorough equipment and their martial spirit took Korea by surprise. It caused a universal panic, and for the first few weeks it was impossible to get the soldiers to stand up and fight the enemy, to say nothing of the generals. The troops and the generals were mutually[mutually] suspicious of each other and neither seemed to have any faith in the courage or loyalty of the other. But now the time had come when the impetuous sweep of the Japanese was stopped, for the time being, by their occupation of Seoul. The fall of the capital was looked upon by the king and the people as a great calamity, but in reality it was the very thing that saved the king from the necessity of crossing the border and perhaps it saved Peking itself. If the Japanese had kept up that impetuous, overwhelming rush with which they came up from Fusan to Seoul, and, instead of stopping at the capital, had pushed straight for the Yalu River they would have swept everything before them and would have been knocking at the gates of Nanking[Nanking] before the sleepy celestials knew that Hideyoshi dreamed of paying back in kind the haughty summons of Kublai Khan four hundred years before. The stop at Seoul gave the Korean forces a breathing space and an opportunity to get into shape to do better work than they had done. The people came to see that instead of painted devils, as they had at first appeared, the Japanese were flesh and blood like themselves and the terror which their fierce aspect at first inspired gradually wore off and in-so-far lessened the discrepancy between the two combatants. On the side of the Japanese there was only one favorable factor, their tremendous fighting power in battle. There they had it all their own way. But on the other hand they were in a thickly populated and hostile country, practically cut off from their base of supplies and dependent entirely upon forage for their sustenance. Under these circumstances their position was sure to become worse rather than better and the real strength of the Koreans was sure to show itself. If a Korean regiment was swept off in battle there were millions from which to recruit, while every Japanese who fell caused just so much irreparable injury to the invading army. We shall see that it was the abandonment of the “double quick” that eventually drove the Japanese back across the straits.