In Korea with Marquis Ito

by George Trumbull Ladd

Instruction in these subjects is given through the medium of interpreters, the last-mentioned office being fulfilled by the Korean Assistant Professors. The number of students fixed for the respective departments, is 80 for the Ordinary, and 40 for the Special Department, the number for the practical Training course being fixed each time according to the requirements. The number of students at present receiving instruction is 26 in the Ordinary Department, and 12 in the Practical Training course. It is very satisfactory to learn that these students are highly commended for obedience, good conduct, and industry. This promises well, not only for the success of the school, but for the progress of the nation.

This lengthy account of the founding and progress of the school and station, whose opening ceremonial was to be celebrated on Wednesday, May 15, 1907, is given because of the great importance of the relation which every such enterprise sustains to the lasting success of the Japanese Protectorate and to the welfare of Korea under this Protectorate. Hitherto, the considerable sums of money which have been from time to time obtained from the Korean Government to found and to foster schemes for improved education or industrial development have almost without exception been unfruitful expenditures. The appropriation has either been absorbed by the promoters of the schemes, or if really spent upon the objects for which it was appropriated, both interest and care have ceased with the spending of the money. Even the missionary schools, which have up to very recent times afforded the only means for obtaining the elements of a good modern education—valuable as they have been, especially as means of propagandism—have too often resulted in sending out graduates who, if they could not get the coveted official positions, were fit for nothing else. In Korea, as in India—to take a conspicuous example—the students from these schools have sometimes become rather more practically worthless for the service of their nation, or even positively mischievous, than they could have been if left uneducated. But what Korea now most imperatively needs is educated men, who are not afraid of honest work; men, also, who will not accept official position at the expense of their manly independence and moral character, or gain it by means of intrigue and corruption. But “honest work” must, for a considerable time to come, be chiefly connected with the agricultural and industrial development of the country. Moreover, the institution at Suwon is demonstrating that the Koreans can make good students and skilful practitioners in the, to them, new sciences which give control over nature’s resources for the benefit of man. The Confucian education hitherto dominant in this country has chiefly resulted in cultivating scholars who either sacrificed usefulness in service to the false sentiment of honor, or else subordinated the most fundamental principles of morality to that skill in official positions which secured the maximum of squeezes with the minimum of resistance. And, finally, nothing so undermines and destroys race-hatred as the prolonged association of the two races in the peaceable relations of teacher and pupil; or of teachers and pupils with their respective colleagues.

Six car-loads of invited guests, belonging to all classes of the most influential people of Seoul and Chemulpo, left the South-Gate Station on a special train at one and a half o’clock, on that Wednesday afternoon, for Suwon. Marquis Ito and his staff, and other Japanese officials, Korean Ministers and their guards, all the foreign Consuls, the principal men of business, representatives of the press, and Christian missionaries were of the party. The day was warm, but fine; the landscape was even more beautiful in its coloring than usual. On arrival at the station of Suwon, the guests were met by the Minister and Vice-Minister of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry, by Dr. Honda, the director of the Model Station, and others, who escorted them on foot over a newly made road through the paddy fields belonging to the station. It did not need an expert eye to see the immense difference, as regards economy of arrangement and efficiency of culture, between these fields and the relatively uneconomically arranged and unproductive fields along the railway by which we had passed as we came to Suwon.

The Agricultural School and Station are beautifully located; the lake, which has been made by damming a stream, with the plain under improved cultivation, and the surrounding mountains, all combine to produce a charming scene. On reaching the Model Station itself a brief time for rest was allowed; this could be improved by those who wished to inspect the rooms where the specimens were displayed, and the laboratories of various kinds. The ceremonial proceedings were opened by the director, Dr. Honda, who reported the progress already made and defined the work which was to be attempted for the future. The work was to consist in the improvement of the quality of the seeds, the introduction and acclimatization of new varieties of farm products, the instruction of the farmers, the supply of manures, the effecting of improved irrigation, drainage, and protection against inundation, the improvement of poultry and dairy farming, the introduction and encouragement of sericulture, and the securing of more by-products on the farms.

After a few words from Mr. Song, the Korean Minister of Agriculture, Marquis Ito made a somewhat lengthy address. He spoke frankly in criticism of the failures which the Korean Government had hitherto made in its various attempts to accomplish anything for improving the miserable lot of the toiling millions of the Korean people. “Not only had nothing been done to ameliorate their condition, but much had been done to injure their interests and aggravate their miseries. Let those who boasted of their knowledge of Chinese philosophy remember the well-known teaching that the secret of statesmanship consists in securing the contentment of the people.” His Excellency then referred to the example of the great Okubo in Japan, who founded an agricultural college there in 1875, spoke of the brilliant results which had followed this improved instruction and practice, and hoped that the Korean officials, in whose charge this well-equipped institution was now placed, would make it equally useful to the Korean people.

The ceremonial part of the day was closed by an address by Mr. Kwon, the Minister of War, who had formerly been, although, as he confessed, without any knowledge of such matters, head of the Department of Agriculture, Commerce and Industry. It was indeed fourteen years since a department had been founded for the improvement of agriculture; but “nothing worth speaking of had been initiated by that department.” After spending 170,000 yen on the station, Japan had kindly consented to turn it over to the Korean Government. He was hopeful that the change already beginning to be felt in the interests of the farming population of his country would in the near future result in a large improvement in their condition. [It does not need to be said to those acquainted with the way in which such projects for developing the resources of Korea have hitherto been conducted, that both the grave rebuke of Marquis Ito and the confessions of the Korean Ministers are amply warranted.]

The ceremony concluded, refreshments were served in and about an old and historically interesting Korean building, which is situated a few rods below the farm station and just above the nearer end of the dam. After this, the whole company walked back to the railway by a road laid out on the back of the dam, which is shaded with young trees and made attractive by views of lake, fertile plains, and hillsides and mountains in the distance on every side. On the plain below the dam some Koreans were holding a pantomimic celebration, or merry-making, of the sort which it is their custom to commit to hired bands of men skilful in affording this species of amusement. On the hillsides at the end of the dam, and above the track of the railway, hundreds of other Koreans—adults in glistening white and children in colors of varied and deepest dyes—were quietly enjoying the scene. When the train stopped at the point nearest the end of the pleasant walk, it was, I am sure, a well satisfied crowd of guests which returned by it to Seoul.

With this ceremony at Suwon another which I had previously attended in Seoul naturally connects itself. This was the opening of the Industrial Training School, the initial outlay for which, including the cost of buildings and apparatus, amounted to a little more than 110,000 yen. The significance of this enterprise will be the better understood when it is remarked that the native workmen of to-day make nothing whatever, with the exception of a few cheap brasses and the attractive Korean chests, that any foreigner would be inclined to buy. Moreover, their own tools and machinery of every description are exceedingly crude and old-fashioned. At the ceremony in Seoul addresses were made similar to those listened to at the Suwon affair. Mr. Yamada, the principal of the Institute, reported that out of the eleven hundred applicants who had presented themselves for examination, fifty students had been admitted. Marquis Ito and the Korean speakers dwelt upon the same facts—namely, the deplorable backwardness of the nation in industrial matters, the unsatisfactory results of past endeavors at improvement, and the needs and hopes of the future. After the addresses, the guests visited the different workshops, where the Korean students were to be given manual training; and then resorted to the sides of the mountain above, where refreshments were served. The decorative features of the festivities—consisting of the Korean crowds on the upper mountain sides, the uniformed officials in and around the refreshment booths, and the brilliant bloom of the cherry bushes and plum trees—were even more striking than at Suwon. On this occasion it was my pleasure to receive a cordial greeting from some of the Korean officials, among whom was the Minister of the Interior, the cousin of the Governor at Pyeng-yang. It was evident that he had heard from his cousin of the assistance rendered directly by the missionaries and indirectly by me, in the way of quieting the excited condition of the Korean population at the time of our visit.

If official corruption can be kept aloof from these enterprises, and an honest and intelligent endeavor made to carry out the plans of the Japanese Government under Marquis Ito for the agricultural and industrial development of Korea, there is little reason to doubt that a speedy and great improvement will result. That the Korean common people, in spite of their characteristic air of indifference and their appearance of indolence, can be stirred with ambition, and that when aroused they will make fairly industrious and apt learners, there is, in my judgment, no good reason to deny. The experience of the “Seoul Electric Railway,” and of other similar enterprises, favors this judgment. Not to speak of the financial methods of this company, and after admitting that the physical condition of its property and the character of its service leave much to be desired, it has been, on the whole, successful in demonstrating the possibility of conducting such business enterprises by means of Korean labor. Mr. Morris, its manager, who came to Seoul in July, 1899, told me the interesting story of his earlier experiences. The working of the road during the first years of its running was accompanied by enormous difficulties. Neither the passengers, nor the motormen and the conductors had any respect for the value of time; most of the employees had even to learn how to tell time by their watches. The populace thought it proper for the cars to stop anywhere, and for any length of period which seemed convenient to them. If the car did not stop, the passengers made a mad rush for it and attempted to jump on; they also jumped off wherever they wished, whether the car stopped or not. This practice resulted in serious bruises and fractured skulls as an almost daily occurrence. Native pedestrians in the streets of Seoul were not content to walk stolidly and with a dignified strut (which is still the habit of the Korean before an approaching Japanese jinrikisha) along the track in the daylight, with the expectation that the car would go around them; but at evening they utilized the road-bed by lying down to sleep on the track with their heads on boards placed across its rails. One dark night in the first summer three men were killed by the last trip between the river and the city. In those days the broad thoroughfare, which is now kept open for its entire length, was greatly narrowed by rows of booths and “chow” shops on either side. Here the men from the country would tie their ponies (the Korean pony is notable for his vicious temper when excited) to the tables, and, reclining upon the same tables, would proceed to enjoy their portion of food. When the electric car came through the centre of the street, the beasts went wild with fright; sometimes they dashed into the shops; sometimes they fled down the street dragging the tables and scattering “chow” and men in every direction. At one place the line to the river runs over a low hill which is, in the popular superstition, a part of the body of the rain-bringing Dragon. In a dry season the people became greatly excited and threatened violence to those who had brought upon them the calamity of drought by such sacrilege done to the body of this deity. Mr. Morris had himself fled for his life before a Korean mob who were ready to tear him in pieces to avenge the killing of a child by the car. At the present time, however, there were fewer accidents in Seoul than on the electric car-lines of Japan; and many fewer than those from the same cause in the larger cities of the United States. In one of the more recent years they had carried 6,000,000 passengers and had only killed one. This is certainly not a bad record; for while, on the one hand, the service of the road is relatively slow and infrequent, on the other hand, in Seoul there are no sidewalks and the streets are thronged with foot-passengers and with children at play.

One other excursion from Seoul is, perhaps, worthy of record as throwing some sidelights upon Korea—this time, however, chiefly an affair of recreation. This was the ascent of Puk Han, the ancient place of royal refuge in cases of revolt or foreign invasion. The party consisted of Mr. Cockburn, the British Consul-General; Mr. Davidson, the successor of J. McLeavy Brown in the Department of Customs; Dr. and Mrs. Wm. B. Scranton, and Madam Scranton, the mother of the Doctor. Mr. Cockburn and Mr. Davidson made the ascent as far as was possible in jinrikishas, and the rest of the party in chairs carried by four or six coolies each. By the longer way out which the party took, there was, however, much walking (but no hard climbing) to do; and by the shorter way home, with its much steeper descent, there was little besides walking which could safely be done by any one.