At the close of the nineteenth century Russia was regarded as the supreme menace to world peace. Her expansion to the south of Siberia threatened British power in India; her railway developments to the Pacific threatened Japan. She struggled for a dominating place in the councils of China and was believed to have cast an ambitious eye on Korea. Germany looked with dread on the prospect of France and Russia striking her on either side and squeezing her like a nut between the crackers. Her statesmen were eager to obtain egress to the seas of the south, through the Dardanelles, and years before it had become a part of the creed of every British schoolboy that "the Russians shall not enter Constantinople."
It was dread of what Russia might do that caused England, to the amazement of the world, to conclude an Alliance with Japan in 1902, for the maintenance of the status quo in the Far East. Japan, willing under certain conditions to forget her grievances, had first sought alliance with Russia and had sent Prince Ito on a visit to St. Petersburg for that purpose. But Russia was too proud and self-confident to contemplate any such step, and so Japan turned to Britain, and obtained a readier hearing. Under the Alliance, both Britain and Japan disclaimed any aggressive tendencies in China or Korea, but the special interests of Japan in Korea were recognized.
The Alliance was an even more important step forward for Japan in the ranks of the nations of the world than her victory against China had been, and it was the precursor of still more important developments. This, however, takes us ahead of our story.
The King of Korea, after his escape from the palace, remained for some time in the Russian Legation, conducting his Court from there. Agreements were arrived at between the Russians, Japanese and Koreans in 1896 by which the King was to return to his palace and Japan was to keep her people in Korea in stricter control. A small body of Japanese troops was to remain for a short time in Korea to guard the Japanese telegraph lines, when it was to be succeeded by some Japanese gendarmerie who were to stay "until such time as peace and order have been restored by the Government." Both countries agreed to leave to Korea the maintenance of her own national army and police.
These agreements gave the Korean monarch—who now took the title of Emperor—a final chance to save himself and his country. The Japanese campaign of aggression was checked. Russia, at the time, was behaving with considerable circumspection. A number of foreign advisers were introduced, and many reforms were initiated. Progressive statesmen were placed at the head of affairs, and the young reformer, So Jai-pil, Dr. Philip Jaisohn, was summoned from America as Adviser to the Privy Council.
It must be admitted that the results were on the whole disappointing. Certain big reforms were made. In the period between 1894 and 1904 the developments would have seemed startling to those who knew the land in the early eighties. There was a modern and well-managed railroad operating between Seoul and the port of Chemulpo, and other railroads had been planned and surveyed, work being started on some of them. Seoul had electric light, electric tramways and an electric theatre. Fine roads had been laid around the city. Many old habits of mediaeval times had been abolished. Schools and hospitals were spreading all over the land, largely as a result of missionary activity. Numbers of the people, especially in the north, had become Christians. Sanitation was improved, and the work of surveying, charting and building lighthouses for the waters around the coast begun. Many Koreans of the better classes went abroad, and young men were returning after graduation in American colleges. The police were put into modern dress and trained on modern lines; and a little modern Korean Army was launched.
Despite this, things were in an unsatisfactory state. The Emperor, whose nerve had been broken by his experiences on the night of the murder of the Queen and in the days following, was weak, uncertain and suspicious. He could not be relied on save for one thing. He was very jealous of his own prerogatives, and the belief that some of his best statesmen and advisers were trying to establish constitutional monarchy, limiting the power of the Throne, finally caused him to throw in his lot with the anti-Progressive group.
Then there was no real reform in justice. The prisons retained most of their mediaeval horrors, and every man held his life and property at the mercy of the monarch and his assistants.
Some of the foreign advisers were men of high calibre; others were unfitted for their work, and used their offices to serve their own ends and fill their own pockets. Advisers or Ministers and foreign contractors apparently agreed at times to fill their pockets at the cost of the Government. There is no other rational explanation of some of the contracts concluded, or some of the supplies received. The representatives of the European Powers and America were like one great happy family, and the life of the European and American community in Seoul was for a long time ideal. There came one jarring experience when a Government—it would be unkind to mention which—sent a Minister who was a confirmed dipsomaniac. For days after his arrival he was unable to see the Ministers of State who called on him, being in one long debauch. The members of his Legation staff had to keep close watch on him until word could be sent home, when he was promptly recalled.
The young Koreans who were given power as Ministers and Advisers after the Monarch escaped from Japanese control were anxious to promote reform and education, and to introduce some plan of popular administration. They were aided by one British official, Mr. (now Sir John) McLeavy Brown. Mr. Brown, trained in the Chinese Customs Service, was given charge of the Korean Treasury and Customs, at the instigation of the British Government. It was hoped that this appointment indicated that the British Government would take a more active interest in Korean affairs. Unfortunately Korea was far away, and the prevailing idea in England at the time was to escape any more over-seas burdens.