Chapter VII.
Mutual jealousies.... first Korean victory.... successful general executed.... people disgusted.... another general executed.... operations in the south.... troops mass in Kong-ju.... unfortunate engagement.... troops scattered.... naval engagement in the south under Admiral Yi Sun-sin.... a great Japanese defeat.... Japanese army cut off from reinforcements.... the tortoise boat.... another naval victory.... and another.... naval campaign closes.... Admiral Yi is decorated.... the fall of Yŭng-wŭn Fortress.... Japanese checked at the Im-jin River.... they seemingly prepare to retreat.... jealousies among the Koreans.... divided counsels.... Koreans cross and attack.... defeated.... Korean army retreats.... the Japanese cross.... Japanese jealousies.... they separate.... the news of defeat reaches the king.... a trifling Korean victory.... a great council.... the king decides to go to Ham-heung.
The wretched party strife among the Koreans was the cause of their weakness. No sooner did a capable man arise than he became the target for the hatred and jealousy of a hundred rivals, and no trickery or subterfuge was left untried whereby to have him degraded and disgraced. A particular incident will illustrate this. Gen. Sin Kak had been associated with Gen. Kim Myŭng-wŭn in the defenses of the Han River, but when Gen. Kim fled after throwing into the river the engines of defense, there was nothing to do but fall back. Gen. Sin retreated to a place of safety but immediately began collecting troops from Kyŭng-geui Province, and he was also joined by a contingent from Ham-gyŭng Province. While the Japanese held Seoul, large bands of them scoured the surrounding country for booty. One of these bands was trying to make its way across the hills to Ka-p’yŭng and Ch‘un-ch‘un, and had gotten as far as the Kye Pass in the town of Yang-ju when they found themselves face to face with the troops of Gen. Sin Kak. A fierce fight took place, in which the Japanese, who were probably largely outnumbered, were severely defeated, leaving sixty heads in the hands of the Koreans. This promised to be the beginning of a series of such little engagements in which the Japanese army would be gradually weakened without being able to draw the Koreans into a large general engagement; the more so because the Japanese were dependent upon forage for their supplies.
But note the sequel. While all Kyŭng-geui was ringing with the praises of the successful general and the people were beginning to see that all was not yet lost, a swift messenger was on his way southward from P‘yŭng-yang bearing a sword and a letter ordering the instant execution of the traitor Sin Kak. The alleged reason for this was as follows: When Gen. Kim fled from the defenses of the Han, in order to cover his infamy, he wrote a letter to the king accusing Gen. Sin Kak of having deserted him in his hour of need. Gen. Yu Hong also recognised Gen. Sin as a powerful rival and so added his prayers to those of Gen. Kim that the traitor Sin be killed. The king knew no better than to comply with this request, preferred as it was by two of his leading generals, and the message of death was sent. But before the day was done came the news of the defeat of the Japanese by the forces under this same Sin Kak. The condemned “traitor” had stood up before a Japanese force and had taken sixty heads. The king was filled with remorse and a swift messenger was sent to stay the hand of the executioner. He took the road an hour after the death messenger and arrived at the camp of Gen. Sin Kak an hour after that loyal man had bowed his head to the axe of his royal master. Who knows but the feet of the second messenger had been made heavy by the gold of Sin Kak’s rivals? History is silent as to this but the suspicion is inevitable. This wanton act was looked upon by the people with horror and detestation, who saw their first successful champion cut down in the very hour of his success.
But another sword, this time of pure justice, was also prepared for Gen. Yi Kak who had fled from before the Japanese at Tong-nă. He made his appearance at the Im-jin River, doubtless thinking himself safe from criticism, but in this he was mistaken, for as he was the one who first set the example of cowardice, he was arrested and put to death.
And now as the Japanese are revelling in Seoul and the king is resting in P‘yŭng-yang and the Korean generals are busy massing troops at the Im-jin to dispute the passage of the Japanese, let us turn southward and witness some of the events that are transpiring there, for we must not think that the provinces of Chŭl-la and Ch‘ung-ch’ŭng are at peace all this time.
When the Japanese army separated soon after leaving Tong-nă one army division under Kuroda swept like a whirlwind westward across the north-western corner of Chul-la Province and through the entire length of Ch‘ung-chŭng Province on its way to Seoul. Yi Kwang the governor of Chŭl-la got together some 8000 men and hastened north to Kong-ju the capital of Ch‘ung-chŭng Province. Finding there that the king had fled from Seoul, he gave up all hope of effecting anything and, turning about, made for the south again. But on the way he was met by Păk Kwang-ön who upbraided him severely, urging that if the king had fled northward all the more need of keeping on and offering him whatever support was possible. The governor humbly confessed that he had been hasty in his action, and turned about and went back to Kong-ju where he joined the forces of the governors of Ch‘ung-ch‘ŭng[Ch‘ung-ch‘ŭng] and Kyŭng-sang Provinces who had arrived at that place. There were also Gen. Yi Ok, the military governor of Ch‘ung-ch’ŭng, and Gen. Kwak Yŭng, the military governor of Chŭl-la. Each of the provinces had both a civil and a military governor. These three civil and two military governors met, then, in Kong-ju and joined forces. It is commonly reported that they had between them 100,000 men, but probably about half that figure would be nearer the truth. They formed a gallant array with their flaunting banners, and the people of the adjoining districts caught up arms and came and joined what seemed to them an invincible host. A Japanese force was found to be intrenched on Puk-du-mun Mountain and Governor Yi Kwang was for making an immediate attack, but one of his aides said, “We are now so near Seoul there is no use in turning aside to attack so small a force. We had better push on to the defense of the Im-jin River.” Păk Kwang-ön who had upbraided the governor for retiring also said, “The road is very narrow which leads up to this position of the Japanese and the woods are very dense. We had better be cautious.” Being opposed thus the second time was more than his temper could endure, so the governor ordered Păk bound and whipped. The latter thinking that it was an imputation on his bravery, after receiving a severe beating, seized his weapons and rushed headlong[headlong] up the slope and attacked the Japanese. Many followed and the engagement became general. From morning till noon it continued but the Japanese could not be driven out of their strong position in the woods. The Koreans began to lose in the battle and finally the Japanese, creeping down toward the Koreans in the underbrush and grass, suddenly rushed out upon them and cut them down by scores. Păk and several other notable men fell in the fight, but the main body of the Korean troops under Governor Yi Kwang moved on to Kwang-gyo Mountain near the town of Su-wŭn, only eighty li from Seoul. Expecting that the day would be a busy one, Governor Yi had his soldiers fed very early in the morning and when day broke, sure enough, there was the Japanese force ready to engage him, and every few moments one or other of the Japanese braves would rush out from the lines, brandish his weapons and challenge the Koreans to come out and fight. So Gen. Sin Ik of the province of Ch‘ung-ch‘ŭng advanced with his force and engaged the enemy. In a few moments the superiority of the Japanese arms became evident. The panic-stricken Koreans fled before them like sheep before wolves. After an hour’s time this considerable army which was to have succored the king was thoroughly scattered, but it is probable that many of the soldiers figured later in the defense of the Im-jin River.
At the same time events were happening further south which were far more creditable to the Korean arms and which were the forerunner of the final expulsion of the Japanese from the peninsula.
A fleet of Japanese boats, bringing as is supposed the reserve of 60,000 men, arrived off the island of Ka-dok on the coast of Kyŭng-sang Province. At that time Admiral Wŭn Kyun had charge of all matters along the coast of that province. When he saw this vast fleet of ships his heart sank and without more ado he prepared to scuttle his ships and flee by land, but fortunately there was good advice at hand, for one of his staff said, “Do not abandon all hope at once but send and ask Yi Sun-sin the Admiral of Chŭl-la to come and aid you.” A swift messenger was sent and the missive was placed in the hands of Admiral Yi. One of his staff said “No, let him guard his own coast and we will look after ours. Why should we go and help him?” But Admiral Yi said, “Is not Kyŭng-sang Province as much the country of our king as Chŭl-la? How can we refuse to go to his aid?” So eighty boats were gotten ready in haste and sailed away co the island of Han-san where the two admirals met and joined forces. The whole fleet sailed out of harbor together and made for the island of Ok-po where the hostile fleet was moored. As soon as the enemy hove in sight Admiral Yi Sun-sin made directly for them and soon was grappling them. The Koreans had the advantage of the wind at their backs for they shot fire arrows among the boats of the Japanese and soon had twenty-six of them in flames. It is said the sea was covered with the wreckage and with struggling human forms. So the remaining ships of the enemy turned about and crowded on all sail in flight, but Admiral Yi gave chase and cut down many more and scattered the rest so that the expedition was an entire failure. This was the first of this great admiral’s successes and it illustrates the fact that the Korean warrior was not a coward when well led. The Japanese armies in Korea were thus cut off from their source of supply and reinforcement and thus a tremendous blow was dealt them. This victory may be said to have been the decisive point in the war.
It is probable that the soldiers in the Japanese army had been accustomed to short though sanguinary campaigns and had spent the intervals of leisure at home. But now this vast army was quite cut off from their home and were among strange scenes. It cannot be wondered at therefore that after time discontent arose in spite of all successes, a discontent which, combined with other causes, finally drove them back to Japan.
Tradition says that about this time Admiral Yi had a dream in which a robed man appeared and cried, “The Japanese are coming.” He arose, assembled his fleet and sailed forth as far as the town of No-ryang where he found a large fleet of the enemy. He used the same tactics as before, burning twelve of them and chasing the rest away. The main reason for his unparalleled successes on the sea was the possession of a peculiar war vessel of his own invention and construction. It was called the Kwi-sŭn or “Tortoise Boat,” from its resemblance to that animal. There is no doubt that the tortoise furnished the model for the boat. Its greatest peculiarity was a curved deck of iron plates like the back of a tortoise, which completely sheltered the fighters and rowers beneath. In front was a hideous crested head, erect, with wide open mouth through which arrows and other missiles could be discharged. There was another opening in the rear and six on either side for the same purpose. On top of the curved deck there was a narrow walk from stem to stern and another across the middle from side to side, but every other part of the back bristled with iron pikes so that an enemy who should endeavor to board her would find himself immediately impaled upon a score of spear-heads. This deck, being of iron, rendered the ship impervious to fire arrows and so the occupants could go into action with as much security as one of our modern battle ships could go into engagement with the wooden war vessels of a century ago. In addition to this, she was built for speed and could easily overtake anything afloat. This made her doubly formidable, for even flight could net avail the enemy. She usually did more execution after the flight commenced than before, for she could overtake and ram them one by one, probably better than she could handle them when drawn up in line of battle. It is said that the ribs of this remarkable ship lie in the sand today in the village of Ko-sŭng on the coast of Kyŭng-sang Province. They are believed to have been seen there by Lieut. Geo. C. Foulk, U. S. N., in 1884. The people of the town have an annual festival, when they launch a fleet of boats and sail about the harbor in honor of the great Yi Sun-sin and his “Tortoise Boat.”
THE TOMB OF ADMIRAL YI SUN-SIN.
In the engagement last described the Japanese in their flight were so terrified by this craft, which pursued them and sank them one by one, that they stamped their feet and cried out that it was more than of human workmanship. And indeed it was almost more than the human of that century, for it anticipated by nearly three hundred years the iron-clad war ship. In this battle Admiral Yi was wounded in the shoulder but made no sign. He urged on his men to the very last and finally when they drew off, weary of slaughter, he bared his shoulder and ordered the bullet to be cut out.
Having thus brilliantly begun, and perhaps fearing lest, if he should delay, some jealous rival might induce the king to take off his head, he pushed straight on to Tang-hang Harbor where he encountered another fleet, among which was an immense three-decked ship, on which sat the admiral of the fleet, clad in silk and wearing a golden head-piece. The intrepid Yi made straight for this craft with his tortoise boat and when near it called to one of his best marksmen to let fly a shaft at the man in silks. The arrow flew straight to its mark and pierced the man’s throat. Seeing the fall of their chief, the whole fleet showed their rudders and made off as fast as they could go, but with the usual result. The next day saw Admiral Yi in Pyŭk-hang Harbor where he lay at anchor while he sent out ships to reconnoitre and find out the position of the enemy. If anything was seen of the foe, guns were to be fired as a signal. Ere long the signal shot was heard far out at sea. The fleet put out in two long divergent lines “like a fish-trap,” as the Koreans say, and soon on the horizon twenty-six hulls appeared rising and sinking on the swell. As they neared they entered the two lines of the Korean fleet and were surrounded. As the result of this fight every one of the Japanese boats was burned and two hundred heads were taken as trophies. This remarkable naval campaign closed with the destruction of a few remaining Japanese boats that were overtaken near Yong-deung Harbor.
The reputation of Admiral Yi Sun-sin spread over the whole south and his praises were on every[on every] lip. His followers would go anywhere with him and scarcely seemed to know what fear was. Soon the report of these splendid victories came to the ears of the king, and though Admiral Yi was not without detractors at court the king conferred upon him a lofty title.
In the fifth moon the Japanese resumed active operations in the north and east. A powerful force were sent to the province of Kang-wŭn which was straightway overrun. The governor, Kim Che-gap, hastily collected all the soldiers that could be found, together with arms and ammunition, and went to the almost impregnable fortress of Yŭng-wŭn. The natural defenses of this place were unexcelled by any in Korea. On three sides the approach was almost precipitous and a handful of men could hold an army at bay. Here the governor collected provisions in abundance and dug a well. Stones were piled on the top of the wall to be thrown down upon anyone who should attempt to scale the height. The Japanese recognised the strength of the position and tried to get the governor to surrender without a struggle. A letter was sent up the steep slope and handed over the wall. It said “You are doomed. Even if you hold out for two months you will then be taken. You must come out and surrender at once.” The only answer was the headless trunk of the Japanese messenger, rolled down the precipice before the eyes of the invading army. The next day the assault began. The besiegers swarmed up the sides of the slope, so that, to use the Korean figure, the mountain-side was clothed with them. The garrison though only 5000 strong found no difficulty in driving them back. That night the Koreans, wearied by the labors of the day and deeming it impossible that the Japanese should try to attack at night up those steep slopes, failed to set a guard; and in the early morning, before light, a little band of the enemy worked its way up the face of the precipice until they reached the base of the wall. A few stones were displaced until a small aperture was made and the little band effected an entrance. They rushed into the camp with a terrific yell cutting down the half-awakened and wholly terrified garrison. The gates were thrown open and in an hour the victory was complete. Gov. Kim Che-gap refused to do obeisance and was cut down.
And now all eyes were turned toward the Im-jin River where the king and the people fondly hoped to be able to stop the invading host. Troops had been coming continually and massing on the northern bank of the stream at the point where the main road from Seoul to P‘yŭng-yang crosses it by ferry. Its great strategic importance was due to the fact that it was the only good place for a large force to cross. The troops massed here were nominally under the command of Gen. Kim Myŭng-wŭn who had so promptly deserted the defenses of the Han, upon the arrival of the Japanese. The Koreans had everything in their favor. The southern bank where the Japanese must embark is a high bluff pierced only by a narrow gully which would allow of only a few hundred approaching the immediate brink of the water at once and consequently the army would have to cross little by little. The opposite bank, on the other hand, is a long flat stretch of sand, an ideal place for drawing up a defensive force, and every boat-load of the enemy would be the mark for a thousand arrows.
The Korean forces were numerous enough, they were brave enough and their leaders were individually capable enough; but note the sequel. All the boats had been brought over to the Korean side and so, when the Japanese arrived on the southern bank and looked down the high bluff upon the assembled hosts of the Koreans and marked the difficulty of embarkation, the swiftness of the current and the utter absence of boats or craft of any kind, they found themselves for the first time completely checked. An hour’s resistance was all they had ever met before, but here was evidently a serious obstacle.
For ten long days these great armies sat facing each other across the waters of the Im-jin. They were ten days of exultation for the Koreans and every day that passed raised the courage, or rather the self-confidence, of the Koreans, who forgot that it was nature and not they who held the foe in check. They did not dream for an instant that the Japanese were about to make them the instruments of their own destruction. When the eleventh morning broke something was seen to be going on among the Japanese, a great running about and the carrying of bundles from place to place. In a short time the reason became apparent. The Japanese had given up further advance and were preparing to retreat toward Seoul. Smoke and flame showed that they were burning their camp and soon the whole force was seen to be on the move back toward the south. To imagine the revulsion of feeling in the minds of the Koreans we should have to realize the deep humiliation to which they had been subjected, the heaps of slain they had seen, the losses in property, in homes, in relatives, in friends which they had sustained at the hands of the ruthless invaders. Instead of being pursued they were to pursue. They would dog the footsteps of the retreating army, cut off the stragglers, worry the life out of the “dwarfs,” as they called the Japanese, and finally give them a farewell kick as they left the port of Fusan on their ignominious homeward flight. Such must have been the common thought and purpose of the Koreans, and the thirst for revenge was simply unbearable. And here again comes to the front the fatal weakness of the Koreans. We have before remarked that the rise of the political parties lay at the bottom of the failure of the Korean arms against the Japanese. It has already been illustrated in the case of Gen. Sin Kak who was executed through jealousy on the very day of his great victory. Here again it is to become apparent. While Gen. Kim Myŭng-sŭn was nominally in charge of the defenses of the Im-jin he was far from being in full command of the troops massed there. A number of other generals were there and each held his own troops in hand and each wished to distinguish himself and so step over the heads of the rest into the good graces of the king. This would mean preferment and wealth. There was absolutely no supreme command, there was no common plan, there was nothing but mutual jealousy and suspicion. A young general, Sin Kil-i, who knew nothing of war, was sure that the enemy had decamped, and he wanted to cross immediately in pursuit. But this was so manifestly absurd that even the common soldiers cried out, “You had better examine carefully and see whether the enemy has actually gone.” For answer the young general had a few heads struck off, which shows he was something of a disciplinarian if nothing more. Then Gen. Yu Keuk-yang expostulated with the young man, warning him that it was surely a trick to lure them across, but the young fellow drew his sword and made a lunge at the old general and charged him with cowardice. This no one could endure, so the aged general said, “Coward, am I? Well I speak only for the good of my king; but I will be the first to cross and fall into this trap, and when you see me fall you will know that my advice was sound.” So calling his soldiers he ordered them into the boats and, throwing all caution to the winds and forgetting the best interests of his king for a petty vindication of his own bravery, he dashed across the river and up the heights. The young Sin Kil-i could do no less than follow, and when he had gained the heights beyond he found the words of the aged general true. A short distance away a half dozen naked Japanese were dancing on the border of a wood, but when the Koreans rushed at them a countless multitude of Japanese who had lain concealed in the wood poured out, and in an instant the Koreans were surrounded. The aged general having thus proved his claim to bravery, or rather foolhardiness, sat down and said, “Now has come the time for me to die.” And die he did. It was only of himself that he thought, and it was this all-pervading selfishness, bred of party strife, that neutralised every good quality in the Korean army. It was not because they were not brave nor because luxury had sapped the vitality of the noble classes but it was because no one would work with anyone else. It was because they saw in war nothing but the chance of personal advancement. And so each one deplored the successes and rejoiced in the failures of every other.
When the old general fell, the Koreans found themselves again, as in the battle in which Gen. Sin Yip fell, between the Japanese and the river. Back they rushed only to find that some of the boats had drifted away and others, being overcrowded, had sunk. Hundreds were driven into the water while others, preferring a soldier’s death, presented their necks to the swords of the Japanese.
But even yet all was not lost. A little wisdom and care might still have left the day unwon by the Japanese. They had a few boats, to be sure, but not enough to be of any use in the face of the still large Korean force on the opposite bank. But here occurred the greatest mistake of all. The generals on the northern bank, witnessing the terrible slaughter of their confreres, and not stopping to reckon the chances still remaining of successful defense, mounted their horses and gave themselves to flight. This was not only cowardice. It was thoughtlessness, carelessness in large part, and if there had been one man in command of the whole defensive force who could witness the loss of a large fraction of his force without losing his head, the Japanese would still have been as far from the northern bank as ever. The moment the soldiers saw the flight of their generals they raised a derisive shout, “The generals are running away,” and forthwith they followed the example, as they had a perfect right to do.
The Japanese leaders seeing the defenses of the river broken up by their successful strategem, immediately crossed with their entire force which Korean accounts reckon at about a quarter of a million. The Korean accounts tell us but little about the rivalry of the two Japanese leaders, Kato and Konishi, but among the Japanese it was notorious. It was impossible for them to march together for any length of time. It was this rivalry which had made them take different roads to Seoul and it was now necessary for them to part again. This jealousy was another of the potent causes of the final failure of the Japanese. Had these two men worked together they could have marched straight on to the walls of Nanking without meeting an enemy worthy of their steel. As it was they separated and scattered over the country, dissipating their power and thus frustrating the design of Hideyoshi—the conquest of China. They cast lots as to their routes and fortune favored the younger man, Konishi, who drew as his lot the straight path north where glory lay if anywhere. Kato had to be content with a dash into the province of Ham-gyŭng in the northeast. Another general, Kuroda, led a force into the western part of Whang-hă Province. All this took place in the fifth moon.
The king was resting secure in P‘yŭng-yang, trusting in the defense of the Im-jin River, when a messenger rushed in breathless, announcing that the Im-jin had been deserted and that the invaders were coming north by leaps and bounds. The town was thrown into a panic of fright and, as the Koreans truly put it, “No man had any color in his face.” Gen. Yi Il came hurrying in from the seat of war disguised as a coolie and wearing rough straw shoes. The king put him in command of the forces guarding the fords of the Ta-dong River which flows by the walls of P‘yŭng-yang.
We must note in passing a trifling success on the part of Captain Wŭn-ho who had been in charge of the ferry across the Han at Yö-ju. He had been called away into Kang-wŭn Province but returned just in time to form an ambush at Yö-ju and spring out upon a company of Japanese whom he routed, securing some fifty heads. The Koreans say that from that time the Japanese avoided the Yö-ju ferry.