In Korea with Marquis Ito

by George Trumbull Ladd

The actual start was preceded by the customary bargaining with the coolies. This resulted in reducing by one-half the original charge—only to find the head man applying late in the evening after our return for an additional “present” direct from me, in reliance on my ignorance of the fact that a handsome present had already been given through the friend who made the arrangement. But, then, such squeezes are not confined to Korea in the Far East, nor are they peculiar to the Far East and infrequent in London, Paris, and New York.

Under “Independence Arch,” where, as we have already seen, the promise of a new and really independent Korea is built into the form of a monument of stone, the whole party were photographed. At a small village some three miles from Seoul, the coolies made another stop; here they received their first advance of money for “chow.” In the street of the village was standing one of those gorgeous palanquins which serve as biers, and which give the lifeless body of the poorest Korean his one ride in state to the hillsides where the tombs of the dead hold the ground against the fields needed for cultivation by the living. But these hillsides at least serve the living to some good purpose as preferred places for recreation and for intercourse with nature, as well as, in some sort, with their deceased ancestors. In Korea, as in India, birth, marriage, and death are expensive luxuries for the poor; to get into the world, to beget an heir, and to get out of the world again, absorb all the accumulated resources of a lifetime of toil for the average Korean. Surely, under such circumstances, “the will to live” lays itself open to the charge of Schopenhauer—that it is blind and working ever to the production of increased misery. Industrial development, firmly coupled with improved morality, and with the cheer and hopes of an elevating religion, as a true “psychical uplift,” are the only sufficient cure for such pessimistic tendencies.

West Gate or “Gate of Generous Righteousness.”

Among the several attempts at photographing made on the way to Puk Han, were some intended to catch one of the numerous Korean children who appeared puris in naturalibus. These were uniformly unsuccessful. Pictures of this characteristic sort were not to be had by us foreigners, although the attempts were supported by the offer of sizable coins. At the first motion to point the camera toward these features of the landscape, they took to their heels and fled afar with urgent precipitancy.

Within perhaps two miles of the Outer Gate of the mountain Fortress we were obliged to dismount, the way having become too rough and difficult even for chairs with four coolies each. Puk Han’s wall was built in 1711; although there is a not altogether improbable tradition that the mountain, which is somewhat more than 2,000 feet high, was fortified long before, under the Pakje kingdom. The gate through which one enters the walled enclosure is picturesque and interesting. Not far inside the wall, across a little valley, are to be seen the solid stone foundations of the new Buddhist temple which is to take the place of one that was destroyed by fire. This is one of several indications that the introduction of modern civilization and of Christian missions is to be followed in Korea, as it certainly has been followed in Japan and elsewhere, by a revival of the spirit, and an improvement in the form and efficacy, of the older religion of the country. Buddhism has, indeed, been for centuries largely lacking in all moral force and spiritual satisfactions in Korea. But I cannot agree with those who are so sure that it is not capable of revival there, of improvement, and even of offering a vigorous competition to Christian evangelizing.

As we climbed up toward the pavilion in which we were to take our luncheon, we saw few ruins of the structures which were once scattered over the area within the mountain’s wall; but everywhere was an abundance of beautiful wild flowers and flowering shrubs. Among the many varieties were wigelia, cypripedium, several kinds of iris, Solomon’s-seal, syringa, hydrangea, giant saxifrage, large white clematis, hawthorne, jassamine, lilies of the valley, many kinds of violets and azaleas, wild white roses, viburnum, Allegheny vine, and wild cherry.

About twenty minutes before we reached the pavilion where it was proposed to spread out our luncheon, great drops of rain caused us to quicken our pace; and the following smart shower which crept by the brow of the overhanging mountain, in spite of the protection of our umbrellas, gave the party somewhat of a wetting before shelter was reached. But soon the rain was over; the sun came gloriously out; the mountain stream which was just below the outer wall of the pavilion ran fuller and more merrily; and the food was more comforting in contrast with the slight preceding discomfort.

Lying in the sun on a shelving rock, I had an interesting conversation with the English Consul-General. In the course of this Mr. Cockburn expressed the amazement of his country at what he graciously called the “patience” of Americans in putting up so quietly with political and social wrongs which the English had refused any longer to suffer, now nearly a century ago. He seemed sincerely gratified at my assurance that the feeling of the United States toward England is more cordial and appreciative of our common good and common mission in the world than was the case twenty-five and thirty years ago. I found myself also in hearty agreement with his view that the treaty between Great Britain and Japan, whether it should prove of commercial advantage to the former, or not, was fruitful of good to the latter nation, to the Far East, and to mankind as interested in the world’s peace.

At about four o’clock the party started on its return to Seoul. The distance was some ten miles, most of which must be walked, by a rather steep descent in places over barren surfaces of granite rock. But the path at first led us still higher up the mountain until, having passed through an inner gate, we reached the outer wall upon the other side of the whole enclosure. For as much of the slope of Puk Han, as somewhat more than two miles of rambling wall can embrace, constitutes this fortified retreat of the Korean monarchy. Thus, with its stores of provisions and implements of war, the cultivated fields, palaces, and other official and unofficial residences inside, it was intended that Puk Han, like its somewhat earlier colleague, the fortresses of Kang Wha, should resist siege by any numbers and for any length of time. But from prehistoric times to Port Arthur, and all over the earth from Sevastopol to Daulatabad, the experiences of history have shown how vain is the hope of the rulers of men to ward off the results of moral and political degeneracy by walls of stone and implements of iron.