CHAPTER XI
Customs Centering around the Top-Knot—Christians Sacrificing their Top-Knots—A Cruel Blow—Beginning of Christian Work in Koksan—A Pathetic Appeal—People Baptize Themselves—Hard-hearted Cho—The King’s Escape—People Rally around Him—Two Americans in the Interior—In the Midst of a Mob—Mob Fury—Korea in the Arms of Russia—Celebrating the King’s Birthday—Patriotic Hymns—Lord’s Prayer in Korean.
Many of the most revered, common, and firmly settled of the customs and superstitions of the people of Korea are, as it were, woven, braided, coiled and pinned into their top-knots, on which, like a hairy keystone, seem to hang, and round which are centered society, religion and politics. The pigtail of China is nothing like as important, for it is really a mark of servitude, or was such in its origin, a badge laid on the conquered by the conquering race. But not so the top-knot, which is many centuries old, and which, according to ancient histories, pictures, pottery and embroideries, goes as far back as the existence of the nation.
When a boy becomes engaged, or is on the point of being married, a solemn ceremony is performed. In the presence of proper witnesses, and at the hands of proper functionaries (among whom are astrologers or soothsayers), the hair, which has hitherto been parted like a girl’s and worn in a long braid down the back, is shaved from a small circular spot on the top of his head, and the remaining long locks combed smoothly upward, and tied very tightly over the shaved place. They are then twisted and coiled into a small compact knot, between two and three inches high and about one in diameter. An amber, coral, silver, or even gold or jewelled pin is usually fastened through it. The Mangan, a band of net, bound with ribbon, is then fastened on round the head below the top-knot and above the ears, holding all stray hairs neatly in place (when a man obtains rank a small open horse-hair cap is placed over the top-knot), and over all the hat, which (being also of open work, bamboo splints, silk or horsehair) permits it to be seen. Fine new clothes are then donned, especially a long coat, and the boy has become a man! A feast is made, and he goes forth to call upon and be congratulated by his father’s friends. Either on that day or the following he is married, although, as has been said, some boys have their hair put up when they become engaged.
No matter how old one is, without a top-knot he is never considered a man, addressed with high endings, or treated with respect. After assuming the top-knot, no matter how young, he is invested with the dignities and duties of a man of the family, takes his share in making the offerings and prayers at the ancestral shrines, and is recognized by his ancestors’ spirits as one of the family who is to do them honor, and whom they are to protect and bless. And right here, to digress a little, it is interesting to note that so intimately is this custom concerned with their religion that many of the Christian converts are now cutting off their top-knots when they become converted, regarding that as the one step (after destroying their idols) which most effectually cuts off the old life and its superstitions, and marks them as having come out from their family and acquaintances as men set apart.
They have begun doing this quite of their own accord, with no suggestion from the missionaries, and in some cases in opposition to the advice of some of us, who dislike to see them laying aside old customs needlessly. But it is growing more and more general among new believers to sacrifice this dear object of pride and veneration, and one young fellow told my husband it was impossible to break away from his old evil associates until he cut his hair. They then believed he was in earnest and let him alone. But it costs much, and in these cases is done quite voluntarily, not in forced obedience to the mandates of conquerors and traitors, which is a very different matter.
Again, far down in the social scale, lower than the boy with the pigtail, whom every one snubs, ranking next to the despised butcher, who daily defiles his hands with blood and gore, and with the touch of dead bodies, is the Buddhist priest who wears his hair shaved, a creature so low, that he was not at that time allowed to defile the capital city by entering its gates. To this grade were all the sons of Korea now to be reduced. Tender associations of early manhood, honored family traditions, ghostly superstition, the anger and disgust of ancestral spirits, the iron grip of long custom, the loathing of the effeminate, sensual and despised Buddhist priests, all forbade this desecration. Their pride, self-respect and dignity were all assailed and crushed under foot. Sullen angry faces were seen everywhere, sounds of wailing and woe were heard continually in every house, for the women took it even harder than the men. Farmers and carriers of food and fuel refused to bring their produce to market, for guards stood at the gates, and cut off with their swords every top-knot as it came through. Men were stationed also in all the principal streets, cutting off every top-knot that passed, and all public officials and soldiers were at once shaved. There was a voice heard, lamentation and mourning and great weeping.
It was a cruel blow at personal liberty, which Anglo-Saxons would die rather than suffer, and which the helplessness of this weak nation made the more pitiful and inexcusable. It was struck shrewdly too, at one of the specially distinguishing marks of Koreans, setting them apart from Japanese and Chinese, designed, we could not help thinking, as one of the first and important parts of a scheme to blot out Korea’s national identity, and merge her into one with Japan; but if this was the intention, never was anything more mistakenly planned. It was hotly resented to the very heart of the country, and added still deeper dye and bitter flavor to the long-nourished hatred Koreans felt for their ancient conqueror and foe. As for us (some of us), we put ourselves in the Korean’s place, recalled our national experience and harbored numbers of Koreans on our place, protecting them from the knife as long as possible. The cup of iniquity was nearly full. The queen, looked upon as the mother of her people, had been murdered, the king virtually imprisoned, the country ruled by the dictum of conspirators and tools of her conquerors, and now this last blow at every family in the nation was too much. A deep spirit of anger and revolt stirred the whole country; yet they had no leaders, no arms, no organization and knew not what to do, a poor down-trodden simple folk, who knew not on whom to lean for help, and who had not learned to cry to him who hears, defends and takes up the cause of the poor and needy.
Bands of Tonghaks again ranged the country, insurrections broke out in various localities, some of the shaved magistrates who went to the country were sent back by the mobs, who refused to receive them as rulers, some were actually killed, and the magistracies destroyed, the soldiers were powerless to subdue the disturbances, and things seemed to be growing from bad to worse. Marines were ordered to the legations from Chemulpo (where there were many foreign gunboats and war vessels), and no one knew what next to expect, when suddenly an entire change in the whole situation took place.
But now I must return for a while to other matters. In the district of Koksan, in northern Whang Hai Do (Yellow Sea Province), about two hundred miles north from Seoul, a very interesting Christian work had started, as so much of our work has, through God’s own direct dealings with the people, by his word and Spirit. A man from that place having come up to Seoul on business, and receiving some small kindness from Mr. Underwood, which he desired to acknowledge, felt that he could do nothing more delicately complimentary and grateful than to make a show of interest in his “doctrine,” and so bought four gospels in Chinese, which he took home in his pack, and forthwith shelved unread. Here they remained for months, I am not sure how long.
Finally one day, a friend noticed them, took them down, all grimy with dust, and asked what they were and whence they came. The owner replied that he had never read them, but that they were books containing a new doctrine taught by foreigners in Seoul. Dr. Cho’s curiosity was aroused, he borrowed, took them home and fell to reading with more and more avidity the further he proceeded. I would not give up the priceless heritage of Christian ancestry, the struggles, prayers and victories of godly forefathers, and all that Christian training from one generation to another for centuries means, but yet I would give much to have been able once to read the four gospels as that heathen read them, with no preconceived opinions, no discolorations of red, green or even blue theological glasses, no criticisms or commentaries of “Worldly Wisemen,” or bigoted fanatics, reading their own ideas between the lines, but with an absolutely unbiased mind so as to be able to receive that wonderful revelation as a sweet glad surprise; sentence after sentence, truth after truth blooming into sudden glory, where the darkness of ignorance had reigned.
One almost envies that heathen his compensations. He received the word with joy, wondered and adored. Here was a man well read in the philosophical teachings, the empty husks of Confucianism and Buddhism, but who had never heard one word from any Christian teacher. Here was a mind free from prejudice, and this was the result of contact with God’s Word. He believed and accepted it for God’s truth with all his heart, and gave himself unreservedly to Christ, turning completely away from his old superstitions and systems of philosophy. Quickly the good news spread, not more from his glad telling of his new-found joy than from the wonderful change in the man himself.
Others also soon believed, and an appeal was sent to Seoul for some one to come and teach them more, lest something should remain misunderstood, or unfulfilled of their dear Lord’s commands. But in Seoul, and elsewhere, workers were few, hands were reaching out from all directions for help, the Macedonian cry was ringing pathetically from many quarters, the harvest great, the laborers few. The Bible must be translated, work already started must be cared for and watched, in a word, there was no one who could go. Again and again came that call, and at last a letter which brought tears to our eyes. “Why,” said they, “will no one come to help us, is no one willing to teach us, have we so far sunk in sin that God will not allow us to have salvation?” Mr. Underwood started almost at once, with Dr. Avison, about one month after the promulgation of the laws for cutting the top-knots. The excitement had somewhat abated in the city, and the call from Koksan admitted of no delay. Making short stops along the road for medical and evangelistic work, going on foot, they reached Koksan about three weeks after leaving Seoul.
RUSSIAN LEGATION HOUSE. [PAGE 174]
INDEPENDENCE ARCH. PAGE [38]
They found a little company of earnest simple-hearted believers, who had thrown away their idols, ceased their ancestor worship, and were in all things, as far as they knew, obeying the Lord. But “the washing rite,” as baptism was translated, puzzled them. “He that believeth and is baptized shall be saved.” What then was this? They pondered and studied. God showed them it was in some way a sign of washing from sin, and when after long waiting, no teacher came, they agreed that each going to his own home should wash himself in the name of the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost, praying for himself and his brethren, that if in anything they had sinned in this rite, God would forgive them. And so the missionaries found them, and though for the sake of due order they were baptized in the prescribed way, it was felt that in God’s sight it had already been done.
When for the first time they all sat down to commemorate the Lord’s death in the service of bread and wine, there was not a dry eye in the room. Tears streamed from the face of Dr. Cho, and later one of his neighbors said, when speaking in an experience meeting, “Old Cho, known as ‘hard-hearted Cho,’ who as a boy never uttered a cry when his father flogged him, who never wept when he laid his aged mother in the grave, whose eyes never moistened when his beloved wife died, or when he buried his eldest son, on whose cheek man never saw a tear, Cho weeps. What miracle has brought tears to his eyes?”
While Dr. Avison and Mr. Underwood were in Koksan, wondering and worshiping over the proofs of how God blesses his word, applied to simple hearts, startling things were taking place in Seoul. The king, who had now been four months helpless in the hands of his enemies, suddenly made good his escape to the Russian legation!
The story, as we heard it from one near the king, was as follows: Wearied and sick at heart of affairs of state, his majesty retired to the women’s apartments, where he spent his entire time, escaping thus to some extent the detestable espionage of his enemies, who delegated two elderly women, one the wife of the Tai Won Kun, and another, whose duty it was to watch his majesty in turn, one by day, the other by night. Their vigilance was, however, in some way sufficiently eluded, so that a plan for the royal prisoner’s escape was arranged with two of the palace women, which was successfully carried out as follows:
On a certain birthday festival, both of the duennas who, as was said, took turns, watching and sleeping, were invited to celebrate with the king, and to partake of a great feast, with plenty of wine and prolonged amusements. All night the king’s watchers revelled, both falling into a heavy sleep before dawn. This is the story, but I like to think that as one of the women was probably the king’s mother, her heart was tender toward her unhappy son, and that she purposely relaxed her watch. It would gild a little the long dark tale of all that preceded to find a touch of sweet human affection right here. At any rate, when every one in the palace was off guard, supposing the king and crown prince asleep, they entered a couple of women’s chairs which were waiting. The bearers of these chairs had been specially selected and paid with a view to their carrying two, and thought nothing of it, as the palace women often went out to their homes in this way. So in each chair a woman sat in front of its royal occupant, screening him from view should any one glance in. The sentinels at the gate had been provided with hot refreshments and plenty of strong drink, and were so fully occupied that the chairs with their valuable burden passed out unnoticed and unhindered. They were expected at the Russian legation, where one hundred and sixty marines from the port had just been called up, and there they speedily made their way, arriving at about seven or eight in the morning of February 11, 1896.
This meant the downfall of the usurpers. With the king’s person went all their claim to authority and power, and it also meant that Japanese influence in Korean affairs was over for a time, and that the country had been almost thrown into the arms of Russia, by the short-sighted policy of the minister, who had desired to “establish the prestige of Japan.”
As our compound was very close to the Russian legation, and fronting on the same street, we were soon aware that something very unusual had occurred. The whole road, as far as the eye could reach, was filled with a surging mob of soldiers, commoners, and the chairs and retainers of the nobility. Guards and sentinels were stationed every few paces along our street, and there was a loud and almost terrifying babel of shouting voices, in the din and confusion of which it was impossible to distinguish anything. I sent at once for one or two of Mr. Underwood’s writers and literary helpers, who told me that the king had arrived a short while before at the Russian legation, and had assumed the reins of government, and that the army, officials and people were rallying around him, each anxious to precede the other in protestations of loyalty and devotion.
Then I thought rather busily for a few seconds. My first reflection of course was, “How will this affect the absent missionaries?” How would it affect Japanese (now distrusted) and through them all foreigners in the interior? Would the people in the country not be likely to wreak the vessels of their wrath upon them, and would they discriminate between them and others wearing similar clothing? I feared not, and that the probabilities were that Dr. Avison and Mr. Underwood might be in considerable danger, as soon as the news of the king’s escape, and the fall of the pro-Japanese party became known. Word must then be sent, and soon, in order if possible to reach them before the news reached the natives. I sent a letter to our very kind friend, the Russian minister, with a message to his majesty, inquiring whether anything could be done for the protection and safe return of the two missionaries. I knew an immediate reply could hardly be expected, such was the rush of business, and the number of visitors and claimants on their time, so, to leave no means untried, I called up one of the copyists, informed him of the necessity for speed, and had the satisfaction of seeing him start that very hour with a letter and warning message to my husband. A short time after, fearing that something might occur to detain one messenger, I sent another by a different road. The second man was stopped by Tonghaks, looking for foreigners, who for some reason suspected him, searched him, ripped open his clothes, where they found my letter (which of course they could not read), and forced him to go back to Seoul.
On the day following that on which my messengers had started, a kind letter from the Russian legation came, saying that the king would at once send a guard to Koksan to bring back the two Americans, and at about the same time, a wealthy nobleman in Songdo, a friend of both, and brother-in-law of General Yun, knowing where they were, and fearing for them, also sent a special posse of men to see them safely home.
Having done all that I could, the most difficult of all tasks, that of waiting, remained, but I remembered that I had a sister in the same situation, only that she probably was not quite as well informed as myself of the exact state of affairs, and did not know that any word had been sent to our husbands. The street running in front of our house was packed with excited people, but I decided to make my way through them in my chair and go down to Mrs. Avison, where she was living at a long distance from the rest of us, and try to set her mind at rest by telling her what measures had been taken for the safety of the absentees, and of what was happening at our end of the town. I soon passed the crowd in our neighborhood, who were in no way concerned with me, and in a little while reached the great street, which runs toward the palace, and crosses that on which the hospital and Dr. Avison’s home stood.
As we reached the corner, I saw a great mob of the roughest and wildest looking men, with flushed faces and dishevelled hair. They came tearing towards us shouting to each other, “The Japanese soldiers are coming, they are firing. Run, run, run!” I did not fancy the company of these gentlemen any more than their looks, nor did I care to be a target for Japanese troops, who were supposed to be chasing them. So I also adjured my chair coolies with some emphasis to “run.” The whole mob came sweeping round the corner, into the thoroughfare on which we were. It was not a dignified or desirable situation, a Presbyterian missionary in the midst of a wild scramble, and with a panic-stricken crowd of roughs escaping for dear life, from the avengers of justice, but there was no help for it. My coolies needed no urging, they were as anxious to get away as any of us, but they certainly deserved great credit, that under the circumstances they did not leave me to my fate, and try to save only themselves. A few moments running brought us to the hospital gates, where we turned in hastily, and were safe. It was not cold, and yet I found myself shivering like an aspen. Strange!
Mrs. Avison and I were soon laughing, however, over my late escapade, and as soon as my errand was finished I hurried home another way, none too soon, for the streets were full of angry-looking men, some of whom scowled at me, and muttered, “foreigner.” That night we learned that two of the pro-Japanese cabinet had been killed on the street and torn to pieces by the mob; that mob which, having finished its awful work, accompanied me down the street that afternoon. A young Japanese was also stoned to death on the street that day. In a few days Dr. Avison and Mr. Underwood were with us quite safe. My faithful and fleet-footed messenger had taken a short cut, and reached Koksan in an amazingly short time.
The news filled our husbands with anxiety for us, not knowing how far mob violence might go, and they made the distance of near two hundred miles in sixty hours, walking nearly all the way (the pack-ponies go much too slow), sleeping only an hour or so at night, and eating as they walked. They missed both the king’s guard and the posse from Songdo, which had taken a different road, but met many poor frightened natives along the road, who knew not where to turn or to whom to look for protection, with Tonghaks on the one hand and pro-Japanese on the other. Later we heard of many sad tales of Japanese citizens, overtaken in the country, who were very summarily dealt with by the exasperated people. Japanese troops were sent by their minister to bring back all who could be found, and large sums were demanded from the Korean government in payment for the lives thus sacrificed. To which demand, it has been suggested, the reply might have been made, “Who is to indemnify Korea for the life of her queen?”
Thus ended for a time the unhappy reign of the Japanese, which, after their victories over the Chinese, had seemed to begin so auspiciously, and which, had they been contented with a temperate and conciliating policy, would probably have grown stronger and stronger.
The king remained for a year at the Russian legation, where he was treated with the truest courtesy, for instead of being in any way coerced or influenced for the benefit of Russian interests, he was allowed the most perfect liberty and interfered with in no particular. To such an extent did the true gentleman who acted as the king’s host carry his scruples, that he refused to advise his majesty in any way even when requested to do so. On the occasion of the king’s birthday, which came in September, it occurred to my husband that it would be a good opportunity to give the Christians a chance to express their loyalty, and at the same time advertise Christianity more widely than ever before at one time. The idea did not occur until a day or two before the time when we were reminded that the royal birthday was close at hand.
The time was short, but permission was obtained to use a large government building near the Independence Arch, which would hold over one thousand people, and advertised widely that a meeting of prayer and praise would be held there by the Christians to celebrate the king’s birthday. A platform was erected, the building draped with flags, and speakers obtained, among whom were members of the cabinet, several gifted Koreans, and foreign missionaries.
He sat up all night preparing tracts, of which thousands were printed at the M. E. Mission Press for that special occasion, and also a hymn, to be set to the tune “America.”