Chapter VIII.
A great council.... the king decides to move to Ham-heung.... the news in China.... the king finds difficulty in leaving P‘yŭng-yang.... a parley in the channel of the Ta-dong.... the king leaves the city.... the Koreans reveal the position of the ford.... the Japanese enter P‘yŭng-yang.... the Crown Prince goes to Kang-wŭn Province.... the king pushes north.... Koreans in despair.... the indefatigable Yu Sŭng-nyong.... Song Ta-ŭp brings the queen to the king.... Kato pushes into Ham-gyŭng Province.... fight at the granaries.... Korean reverses.... a Korean betrays the two Princes.... a traitor punished.... brave defenders of Yŭn-an.... the king goes to Eui-ju.... conclave in the south.... “General of the Red Robe”.... his prowess.... he retires.... disaster at Köm-san.... a long chase.... Japanese defeated at Keum-nyŭng.
On the second day of the sixth moon the king called a great council to discuss the advisability of his staying longer in P‘yŭng-yang or of moving further north. One said, “If someone is left to guard this city it will be well for the king to move north,” but another said, “P‘yŭng-yang[P‘yŭng-yang] is a natural fortress. We have 10,000 soldiers and plenty of provisions. If the king goes a step from here it will mean the destruction of the dynasty.” Another voice urged a different course; “We have now lost half the kingdom. Only this province and that of Ham-gyŭng remain to us. In the latter there are soldiers and provisions in abundance and the king had better find there a retreat.” All applauded this advice excepting Yun Tu-su who said, “No, this will not do. The Japanese will surely visit that province too. Ham-heung is not nearly so easy of defense as P‘yŭng-yang. If the king is to leave this place there are just three courses open to him. First, he can retire to Yung-byŭn in this province and call about him the border guard. If he cannot hold that place he can go to Eui-ju on the border and ask speedy help from China. If necessary he can go up the Yalu to Kang-gye, still on Korean soil. And if worse comes to worst he can cross into Chinese territory and find asylum at Kwan-jun-bo although it is sure that he could hold out for a few months at Kang-gye before this would be necessary. I know all about Ham-heung. Its walls are of great extent but they are not high and it is open to attack from every side. Besides if he retreats northward from that place he will find nothing but savage tribes. Here he must stay.” But all cried out as with one voice that the king must go to Ham-heung. Gen. Yi Hang-bok insisted upon the necessity[necessity] of going north to the Yalu and imploring aid from China even if it became necessary for the king to find asylum on Chinese soil. But in spite of all this advice the king on the sixth of the month sent the queen on toward Ham-heung and gave orders to Yun To-su to hold P‘yŭng-yang against the Japanese. His Majesty came out and seated himself in the Ta-dong summerhouse and addressed the people saying, “I am about to start for Ham-heung but I shall leave the Crown Prince here and you must all aid him loyally.” At this the people raised a great outcry. It looked as if they would all follow the king from the city. They did not want the Prince to stay, they wanted the king.
By this time the rumors of these things had gone ahead into Liao-tung.
The form which the news assumed across the border was that the king had fled north to P‘yŭng-yang, but that it was only a blind, as the Japanese and Koreans had formed an agreement to invade China together and the king had made a pretense of flight so as to keep the Chinese unsuspecting until the Japanese should reach the Yalu. This report caused a great deal of anxiety in the Chinese capital and the Emperor sent Gen. In Se-dŭk, who was stationed in Liao-tung, to investigate. He immediately set out for P‘yŭng-yang, and on his arrival sought an audience with the king. It was granted, and the general, having learned the exact state of affairs, started post haste back toward Nanking to report to the Emperor.
On the eighth day of the sixth moon the van of the Japanese army arrived on the southern bank of the Ta-dong River opposite P‘yŭng-yang, but there were no boats and no way of crossing; so they went into camp to await the arrival of the main body of the army. No Chik was ordered by the king to take the Ancestral tablets and start north. The people were enraged at this, for they thought it would mean the immediate pillage of the city by the Japanese, and consequent hardships and dangers for themselves. So the crowd armed itself with clubs and stones and as the tablets were being carried out of the gate they struck the bearers down and loudly insulted No Chik, who was in charge. They cried “In times of peace you are ready enough to steal the government revenues, and it is for this reason that all these troubles have arisen. You call upon us to protect the city and then you run away yourself when danger approaches.” Lashing themselves into a fury by their own words, they threw off their clothes and prepared to strike down every man who should try to escape from the city. Meanwhile the old people and children besieged the palace with their prayers, saying, “We are all here to protect the city, and if the king leaves it will be the same as handing us over to slaughter.” In the eagerness of their importunity they even pressed into the outer court yard and were stopped only by the statement that the king was not about to leave. Yu Sŭng-nyong came out and sat before the crowd and addressing an old man said, “You say that you desire to protect the city and the king’s person and you say well, but how is it that you so far forget your duty as to come in this bold manner into the king’s apartments and raise this disturbance?” The people, partly because it seemed evident the king was not about to leave, returned to their homes.
That night the Japanese caught a Korean and sent him across the river with a letter to the king, in which they said “We wish to meet Yi Tŭk-hyŭng and have a parley with him.” This seemed to be a proper thing to do, so Yi entered a small boat and was sculled out to the middle of the river where he met Konishi. Without wasting any words in mere formalities the latter said, “The cause of all this trouble is that Korea would not give a safe conduct to our envoys to Nanking, but if you will now give us an open road into China all the trouble for you will be at an end.” To this Yi replied, “If you will send this army back to Japan we can confer about the matter, but we will listen to nothing so long as you are on Korean soil.” Konishi continued, “We have no desire to harm you. We have wished such a conference as this before, but have not had a single opportunity until today.” But the only answer the Korean made was, “Turn about and take your troops back to Japan.” The Japanese general thereupon lost his temper and cried, “Our soldiers always go ahead, and they know nothing about going backwards.” And so the conference was[was] broken up, each returning to his own side of the stream.
The next day the king succeeded in getting away from the city and made his way towards Yŭng-byŭn, generals Yun Tu-su, Kim Myŭng-wŭn and Yi Wŭn-ik being left to guard the city and oppose the passage of the enemy. The Japanese camped beside the Ta-dong and waited, as they had waited beside the Im-jin, “for something to turn up.” They did not have to wait as long as they did beside the Im-jin. The Korean generals, Kim Myŭng-wŭn and Yun Tu-su were not without courage and skill, and they conceived the scheme of crossing the river at night at the fords of Neung-na-do a little above the city and falling upon the enemy with a picked body of troops. It would be difficult to disprove that in the face of such odds and such a vast disparity in equipment this plan showed the highest courage not only in the generals but in the common soldiers. The fact that the attempt failed and failed disastrously may reflect upon the judgment of the leaders but it can never impeach their bravery. The fording of the river, always a difficult and slow operation at night, consumed more time than had been anticipated and by the time the devoted men reached the Japanese outposts it was already dawn. They were now in a desperate situation. There was nothing to do but to retreat, but the retreat was itself a cause of disaster, for it revealed to the foe the position of the fords; and thus it happened that a miscalculation as to time made the Koreans the instrument of their own destruction, even as they had been at the Im-jin.
The Japanese now knew that they had everything their own way. After a hearty breakfast they shouldered their arms and made for the ford. They swarmed across in such crowds that the defenders were driven back before they had shot a dozen arrows. The two Korean generals, making a virtue of necessity, opened the Ta-dong Gate on the river side of the town and told the people to escape for their lives. The soldiers threw all their heavier arms into the pond called P‘ung-wŭl-su and fled by way of the Po-dong Gate. The Japanese did not pursue, but took quiet possession of the town and settled down. Here again they made a grand mistake. Their only hope lay in pushing on at full speed into China, for even now the force that was to crush them was being collected, and every day of delay was lessening their chances of success.
The king was at Pak-ch‘ŭn when the news of the fall of P‘yŭng-yang reached him, and he was in feverish haste to get on to Eui-ju, saying that if worst came to worst he would cross into Chinese territory. But he added, “As I am told that by leaving Korean soil I shall abdicate my royal right I wish the Crown Prince, in care of Gen. Ch‘oe Heung-wŭn, to go to Yi-ch‘ŭn in Kang-wŭn Province and there gather about him an army and hold the fortress as long as he can.” This order was immediately carried out and the Prince started for Kang-wŭn Province, while the king pushed on northward to Ka-san. He arrived at that place in the middle of the night. It was pitchy dark and there were no lights and the rain was falling in torrents. The royal escort had dwindled to less than twenty men. Here the report was received that a Chinese force was to cross the Ya-lu, and so the king stopped at Ka-san waiting their approach. Yu Sŭng-nyong was hurrying from town to town trying to get together provisions for the Chinese army that was coming to Korea’s aid, but as fast as he got them together the people rose in revolt and stole them all. Some days passed and still the expected army did not appear, so Yi Tŭk-hyŭng was despatched as envoy to China to solicit aid from the Emperor, and His Majesty called together his little court and said, “If necessary I shall cross the Ya-lu and find asylum on Chinese soil. If so, which of you will go with me?” For some moments there was a dead silence and then Yi Hang-bok, the same who had aided the Queen in her flight from the palace, spoke up and said, “I will go with you.” The truth of the matter is that when the king left P‘yŭng-yang the courtiers all gave up the kingdom for lost and were ready to desert the king the moment there was a more favorable opening.
With tremendous toil Yu Sŭng-nyong succeeded in getting some provisions together and transported them all to Chöng-ju, but when he arrived at that place he found a crowd of people assembled in front of the royal granary armed with clubs. He charged the mob and scattered it, caught eight of the leaders and beheaded them on the spot. He then went to Kwak-san and secured further supplies, and also at Kwi sŭng, and held them in readiness for the Chinese army when it should appear.
We will remember that the king had fully determined to go across into Ham-gyŭng Province, but at the last moment he had been dissuaded because of the difficulties that might arise if he were compelled to retreat further still. Being now urged to go on to Eui-ju he replied, “Yes, I must do so, but what about the queen whom I sent forward into Ham-gyŭng Province?” The brave Prefect of Un-san made answer, “I will go and bring her to Your Majesty.” So he set out across the country to find the queen, and all the records tell us is that he brought her faithfully to him at Pak-ch‘ŭn. This short mention does this brave man scant justice, for even in these days a journey across the northern part of the peninsula is an arduous undertaking especially in summer. But not only so; he was to find a queen, beset perhaps by enemies, and bring her safely across that wilderness to the king, who by that time might be far across the Chinese border, while the country behind him swarmed with a half-savage enemy. This prefect, whose name is Song Ta-ŭp, must have been a brave, energetic, tactful man whose will was as strong as his patriotism was deep.
The Japanese were now settled in P‘yŭng-yang and as they were destined to remain there some time it may be well for us to leave them there and follow the fortunes of Kato, who, as we will remember, had branched off eastward into Ham-gyŭng Province after casting lots. He pushed on rapidly across the country toward Wŭn-sin, but as he was not on one of the main thoroughfares of the country he found it difficult to keep to the road; so he captured a Korean and forced him to act as guide. Arriving at the town of Kok-san in the eastern part of Whang-hă Province they crossed the mountains by the No-ri-hyŭn Pass and pushed on until they struck the Seoul-Wünsan road not far from the latter place.
Gen. Han Keuk-sŭng was in charge of the government forces[forces] in Ham-gyŭng Province. He advanced immediately to engage the Japanese, and a fierce fight took place at the government storehouses at Ha-jong. At first the Japanese had decidedly the worst of it but at last they retired to the shelter of the granaries and barricaded themselves behind bags of rice from which position they poured a destructive fire upon the Korean troops who were drawn up four deep, and who therefore suffered the more severely. Not being able to dislodge the enemy the Koreans decided to withdraw and fortify the passes both in front and behind the Japanese, supposing that in this way they would be entrapped. The Japanese learned of this and when night came they knew they must make a bold strike for liberty. So they scaled the mountains in the darkness and succeeded in completely surrounding the defenders of one of the passes. When morning came there was a heavy fog and the Koreans were utterly unsuspicious of danger. Suddenly the surrounding party of Japanese opened fire on them and it took but a few moments to have them on the run. It came on to rain and the roads were heavy with mud. The Koreans who were entirely unused to such a prolonged strain, fell exhausted along the way and were butchered by the pursuing enemy. Gen. Han made his escape to Kyŭng-săng but was there captured by the Japanese. The governor of the province, to the disgust of the people, fled and hid among the hills, but the populace arose and dragged him out and forced him to resume his duties. Gen. Yi Hon also fled northward toward Kap-san, and the people consequently seized him and took off his head. It was hard work for generals in that province, for they had the Japanese on the one hand and the people on the other. The people of the north are made of sterner stuff than those of the south and the punishment they meted out to these cravens is a good indication of their quality.
While these events were happening the two princes who had taken refuge in this province fled northward and stopped not till they reached the border town of Whe-ryŭng on the Tu-man River. As it proved, this was the worst thing they could have done, for the ajun or constable of that district was either in the pay of the Japanese or was so terrified by their approach that he was willing to go to any extreme to gain their favor. So he seized the two young princes and carried them to the Japanese camp. The latter received them gladly, unbound them, placed them in their midst and carried them wherever they went. They were a prize worth watching. To the traitor, Kuk Kyŭng-in, who had betrayed the two princes, they gave a position equivalent to the governorship of the province, and he was formally installed in that office. But justice soon overtook him. A loyal general, Chöng Mun-bu, in the northern part of the province, arranged a plan to effect the capture of the traitor. But in some way the news got out and the pseudo-governor sent and seized Gen. Chöng, intending to take his head off the next morning; but during the night another loyal man named Sin Se-jun, gathered a band of men, armed them as best he could and addressed them thus: “Our district has become disloyal through the treachery of this villain. If we do not hasten to make it right we will all have to suffer for it in the end. If you do not agree with me, take your swords and strike me down.” They answered as one man, “We will listen to you and obey you.” They immediately sallied out, broke into the governor’s house and beat him to death. The Japanese knew that it was Gen. Chöng who had originated the plot and they searched for him everywhere, but he hid in private houses in different places and so they failed to apprehend him.
Chi Tal-wŭn of Kyŭng-sang gathered a band of men and tried to make head against the Japanese but not being a soldier he could make but little impression; so Gen. Chöng was hunted up and put in command. There were only two hundred soldiers in all, but soon they were joined by the prefects of Chöng-sŭng and Kyŭng-wŭn and their contingents, and the little army made its headquarters at Kyŭng-sŭng.
As the Japanese were overrunning the country, many events of interest happened, many episodes that history will probably never record, scenes of cruelty and rapine that are perhaps better left undiscovered; but a few of the more important of these events are necessary to a correct understanding of the way in which the Koreans met their fate at the hands of the invaders.
When the Koreans fled from Seoul a high official by the name of Yi Chong-ŭm fled to the walled town of[of] Yŭn-an in Whang-hă Province. Its prefect had fled, and when a Japanese force of 3000 men under Nagamasa approached, the people besought this Yi to take charge of the defense of the town. He consented and made proclamation, “The Japanese are all about us and we are in jeopardy[jeopardy] of our lives. All that wish to live must now run away and the rest of us will remain and die together.” To this they replied with one voice, “How can we let our leader die alone?” The next day the Japanese arrived and invested the town, but on attempting to storm it they were met by buckets of boiling water thrown down[down]. on their heads. They drew off, but renewed the attack at night. This time they were met by piles of burning straw which again drove them back. Again they came on, this time with broad planks over their heads to protect them from the novel weapons of the Koreans, but these were not proof against the huge stones which the defenders threw down upon them. The fight lasted three days and finally the[upon them. The fight lasted three days and finally the] Japanese withdrew after burning their dead.
In the seventh moon the king moved northward to Eui-ju. But we must turn again to the south to witness another loyal attempt to stem the tide of invasion. In the province of Chŭl-la there were men who longed to take up arms in defense of their homes, but all the regular troops had been drafted away northward and nothing could be done on regular lines. So Ko Kyöng-myŭng and Kim Ch’ŭn-il of that province and Kwak Chă-u and Chöng In-hong of Kyŭng-sang Province held a conference to devise ways and means for prosecuting a geurilla[geurilla] campaign. These men had all been connected with the army at some previous time and were not utterly lacking in knowledge of military affairs. Kwak Chă-u was in the prime of life and was appointed leader. Gathering the people of the countryside to a great conclave, he addressed them thus, “The whole country is being overrun by the Japanese and soon we will become their prey. Among our young men there must be many hundreds who are able to bear arms. If we take our stand at Chöng-jin on the river we shall be able to prevent the Japanese from crossing and they will thus be held in check.” This brave leader then turned his whole patrimony into ready money and spent it in equipping his little army, which amounted to 5000 men.
A Japanese general attempted to enter this portion of the province but was met all along the line of the river by a determined soldiery, and was not able to affect a crossing. The Korean leader Kwak has become famous in Korean story for his valiant deeds. He is said to have worn a fiery red cloak and he was dubbed Hong-eui Tă-jang or “General of the Red Robe.” His particular skill lay in rapid changes of base and he appeared now at one point and now at another with such bewildering rapidity that he earned the reputation of being able to transport himself by magic to incredible distances in a moment of time. These reports he did not contradict. The Japanese came to dread his approach and the report that he was near, or a glimpse of the flaring red robe was enough to send them scurrying off. From his central camp he sent out spies in all directions who kept him informed of every move of the enemy, and whenever the Japanese encamped the Koreans gathered on the surrounding hills at night, each carrying a framework that supported five torches, and so the Japanese supposed they were surrounded by great numbers of Koreans, and anxiety kept them always awake. The best of the Korean soldiers were detailed to watch mountain passes and look for opportunities to cut off small bodies of the enemy’s forces. Traps of various kinds were set, into which they occasionally fell, and they were so harrassed[harrassed] and worried that at last they were compelled to withdraw entirely from the three districts of Eui-ryŭng, Sam-ga and Hyŭp-chăn, and quiet was restored.
But this useful man’s career was cut short in a manner similar to that in which Gen. Yi Kak’s had been. We will remember, after the Japanese had taken Tong-nă and were sweeping northward, that Kim Su, the governor of Kyŭng-sang Province, not daring to meet them, turned to the west and fled from their path. It was just about this time that the “General of the Red Robe” was having his victories over the Japanese that had pressed westward after the fall of Tong-nă. When this successful leader heard of the craven flight of Gov. Kim Su he was filled with scorn and with righteous indignation. He considered the cowardly governor to be worse than the Japanese themselves. He sent the governor a message naming seven valid reasons why he deserved execution. Kim Su replied, “As for you, you are a robber yourself,” and he also sent a letter to the king charging Gen. Kwak with disloyalty. At the same time Gen. Kwak sent a letter to the king saying, “Gov. Kim ran away from his post of duty, and when I upbraided him for it he called me a robber. I have killed many of the ‘rats’ but as I have been called a robber I herewith lay down my arms and retire.” Despatching this letter to the king, Gen. Kwak dismissed all his followers and retired to a hermitage of Pi-p‘a Mountain in Kyŭng-sang Province and “lived upon pine leaves for food.” So the records say. Thereafter, though offered the governorship of Ham-gyŭng or Chŭl-la province he refused to come out of his retreat. He changed his name to Mang U-dang or, “House of Lost Passions,” and he thus acquired great sanctity. Here is another instance in which the king lost an able leader through mere wanton caprice. Wounded pride made the famous leader forget country, king, kindred, honor—all.
Another attempt was made by Ko Kyŭng-myŭng, a native of Chang-heung in Chul-la Province. Hearing that the king had fled to P‘yŭng-yang he, together with Yu P‘ang-no, gathered a large force at Tam-yang. Sending letters all over the province he succeeded in getting together 6000 men, and made the central camp at Yŭn-san. The king, bring informed of this, sent a gracious letter giving his sanction and urging the faithful men to do all in their power for the people and the country. Gen. Kwak Nyŭng was also sent from the north to coöperate with this army in their loyal attempts.
Hearing that the Japanese had arrived at Köm-san, the Korean forces advanced against them, but, for some reason not stated, when they appeared before the town their number had dwindled to eight hundred. Whether the rest had run away or whether a small detachment was deemed sufficient is not known, but at any rate a blunder had been committed, and when the Japanese saw the smallness of the attacking party they sallied out and soon scattered the Korean forces under Gen. Kwak Nyŭng. The other troops, seeing this, also took to their heels, but Gen. Ko would not run away, though urged to do so by his lieutenants. He told them to make good their escape, but that he would remain and meet his fate. So they all stood and fought it out to the bitter end and fell side by side. Gen. Ko’s son, learning of his father’s death burned for revenge and so he collected a band of soldiers in the south, which he named “The Band that Seeks Revenge.”
A more successful attempt was made by Chöng In-hong of Hyŭn-p‘ung in Kyŭng-sang Province. He was joined by Kim Myön, Pak Song, Kwak Chun, Kwak Il and Son In-gap. These men organized a force and drove the Japanese out of Mu-gye and burned their supplies. Hearing that the enemy had fled toward Cho-gye and knowing that a river intervened, they gave chase. The Japanese came to the river but could find no boats to cross. They spent so much time looking for a ford that when at last they found one and were starting to cross, the pursuers came up. The ford was a bad one, the bottom being composed of soft sand, something like quick-sand. Soon the horses and men were floundering about in mid-stream. Chöng and his men, who knew the ford, rushed in upon them, while so entangled, and cut them down by hundreds. Those that escaped fled towards Song-ju, but one of Chöng’s lieutenants took a thousand men and gave chase. Pressed beyond endurance the Japanese turned and came on to fight. One huge fellow on a magnificent charger came dashing out ahead of the rest, brandishing his sword and yelling at the top of his voice. A hideous gilt mask added to the picturesqueness of his appearance, but it did not frighten the pursuers. Their leader aimed at the horse’s legs and soon he came crashing to the ground, where he was speedily despatched. The other Japanese thereupon turned and resumed their flight. Japanese troops who were in force in Song-ju and Ko-ryŭng came out to intercept the pursuers, but Chöng and his men formed an ambush and springing suddenly upon the Japanese threw them into confusion and chased them as far as Pyŭl Pass. In this flight the Japanese threw away their baggage, weapons and all superfluous clothing. Chöng and his men chased them six miles and then turned back.
The last adventure of this nature which we shall mention is that of Kim Ch‘ŭn-il a man of Na-ju in Chŭl-la Province. Hearing of the king’s flight he sat down and wept, but suddenly springing up he exclaimed, “I might far better be trying to aid my sovereign than sit here bewailing his misfortune.” In company with his friends Song Che-min and Yang San-do, he got together a goodly band of men whose avowed purpose was the succor of the king. Before commencing operations the leader slaughtered horses and oxen and made each man taste the blood and take an oath of allegiance to the cause in which they were embarked. Kim addressed them in these words, “Of course this means death to us all. We cannot expect to come out of it alive. We can only go forward. There must be no retreat. If any one of you desires life more than the accomplishment of the work in which we are engaged let him turn back now.” They fortified Tok-san in Ch‘ung-ch‘ŭng Province. Koreans who had sold themselves to the Japanese as spies came to this camp to gain information, but were apprehended and put to death. The Japanese camp was at Keum-nyŭng not far away. One moonless night Kim, by a forced march came and surrounded this camp, and at a given signal his forces descended like an avalanche upon the unsuspecting enemy. Those that escaped the edge of the sword found safety in flight. In the seventh moon this force, consisting of several thousand men, crossed the Han River below Yang-wha-do intending to go and join the king, but instead of doing so they entered the island of Kang-wha and fortified it. When the king heard of these deeds of Kim Ch‘ŭn-il, he was highly pleased and gave him the title of “Defender against Invaders.”
These incidents of Korean success against the Japanese cannot be taken as typical cases for, as a rule, the Japanese went where they wished and did what they wished, but they are inserted here rather to show that it was no craven submission on the part of the Koreans; that there were strong, brave and faithful men who were willing to cast their fortunes and lives into the scales and strike as hard blows as they knew how for their homes and for their king. It was of course a geurilla[geurilla] warfare and it was only small detachments of the main army of the Japanese that they could successfully withstand, but the utter pusilanimity[pusilanimity] of the Koreans, as sometimes depicted, is not a true picture of them. Their worst fault was that they were unprepared for war. This together with the strife of parties was the reason why the Japanese for a time worked their will upon the peninsula.