In Korea with Marquis Ito

by George Trumbull Ladd

The following morning in Fusan was dull and unpromising—there was drizzle, cloud, and fog over land and sea, and a fresh breeze. In spite of the weather, however, we were taken in jinrikishas to the villa of Mr. Kuruda, one of the oldest of the Japanese settlers, a prosperous commission merchant and manufacturer of saké. This villa is seated on the mountain’s side and is surrounded by as fine an example of a certain style of Japanese gardening as I have ever seen. Here is a profusion of artistic rock arrangement, decorated with shrubs and flowers, for the most part brought from Japan, and marking out ponds, paths, and favored points of view from which can be had glimpses of the charming harbor and surrounding hills. The owner was proud to have us know that Marquis Ito makes the villa his home when journeying between Korea and Japan. Among other objects of interest in the garden is a huge boulder which fell from the mountain’s side some twenty years ago; near this the owner of the garden has chosen his last resting-place, and upon it the proper inscription has already been prepared.

After leaving the villa we were shown over one of the public schools which has been founded for the children of Japanese residents, and were bidden to notice how its reports showed the high average attendance of from 93 per cent. to 98 per cent., and even above, in the different grades, for the entire year. Next came a visit to a private school for girls, which is under the patronage of Japanese ladies, and which gives an education of a more distinctly domestic type. Here we were served with an excellent luncheon in foreign style, cooked by the pupils of the school; during and after which there was an entertainment consisting of tableaux vivants and a musical performance that might best be described as a trio of kotos with a violin obligato. One of these tableaux represented three young girls defending a castle wall with bow and arrow—a scene corresponding to actual events of history; for, in fact, the loyalty of certain clans in the north of Japan carried them to such extremes in support of the Tokugawa dynasty. Indeed, through many centuries, Japanese women and girls have been far braver and more loyal in defence of their liege lord than Korean men have been.

From this school we were taken to the park on the mountain, with its trees brought from Tsushima some two hundred years ago, to which reference has already been made ([p. 15]) as the only one in all Korea. The Shinto temple upon the hill-top is equally old, and was originally dedicated to no fewer than nine different divinities—the goddess, Amaterasu (the “Heaven-Shiner,” or Sun-goddess), born from the left eye of the Creator Izanagi, whose principal shrine is now at Ise, being the chief.

The lecture of the afternoon was given to an audience of about six hundred, upon a topic selected by those who had extended the invitation. This topic was “The Necessity of an Improved Commercial Morality”; it was expected that the speaker would enforce and illustrate the thought by the situation at the present time in Korea, and by an appeal to Japanese patriotism to show their nation worthy of setting a good example, and capable of accomplishing the task of industrial development and political redemption in the land which was now so dependent upon Japan for its future. Mrs. Ladd also said a few words expressing her interest in what we had seen in the morning illustrating the education given to Japanese girls in Fusan, and also the hope that something similar might soon be possible for their Korean sisters. The heartiness with which these suggestions were received in this, the principal Japanese settlement of the Peninsula, shows that the better classes of settlers are honorably sensitive to the obligation to redeem the fair fame of their nation from the injury which it has received in the past at the hands of the inferior and baser elements of their own countrymen.

That this determination was not beyond reasonable hope of speedy realization was made more evident to me by conversation with the agent of the Transportation Company operating between Shimonoseki and Fusan. A careful investigation of its records had revealed the fact that for some months past about 200 Japanese passengers were, on the average, daily coming into Korea, and only about 150 returning from Korea to Japan. Of the fifty who, presumably, remained as settlers, about one-half chose for their home either the city of Fusan or the surrounding country; the other half went by rail inland, chiefly to Seoul and Chemulpo. There had also been of late an obvious change in the character and intention of these immigrants. Formerly, they were largely young fellows of the type of adventurers; but now the old people, and the women and children, were coming with the men—an indication that their business was no temporary venture, but a purpose to remain and make homes for themselves. When it is understood that these figures are exclusive of the Japanese military and civil officials, they compare very closely with the results of the census taken just before our departure. On taking passage from Shimonoseki to Fusan we had noticed that the passengers which crowded and overflowed the second- and third-class cabin accommodations of the steamer appeared to be very decent folk. Many of them had brought along, not only their luggage, but also their agricultural implements and mechanic’s tools. But the subject of Japanese settlement in Korea, and its effect upon both countries concerned, is so important as to deserve further discussion of such statistics as are now available.

We went on board the Iki Maru early enough to avoid the crowd that would come by the afternoon train from Seoul. After bidding good-by to the score of ladies and gentlemen who had come down to the wharf to see us off, there was time for dinner before the steamer sailed. As we watched the retreating shores of Korea, we remembered the morning of two months before when these shores had first come into view. It was Japanese friends who had then welcomed us—the same friends who had just bidden us farewell. But between the two experiences lay a busy period of work and of observation which had resulted in making more friends, Japanese and foreign, in Korea itself. But how about the Koreans themselves; had we won, even to the beginnings of real and constant friendly feeling, any among their number? I was unable confidently to say. The Koreans are spoken of, by the missionaries especially, as notably kind and affectionate in disposition and easily attached to the foreigner by friendly ties. By the diplomats and business men they are, for the most part, distrusted and despised. As the guests of Marquis Ito, it was not strange that we did not quickly gain any assurance of genuine and trustworthy friendliness on their part. But this, too, is a subject which requires consideration from a more impersonal point of view. For there is something startling in the wide divergencies, and even sharp antagonisms, of the estimates of Korean character which any serious and disinterested inquiry evokes.

The night of May 29th was rough, and our ship rolled considerably while crossing the straits between Korea and Japan. But by early morning we were in smooth water. The likenesses and the contrasts of the two countries were even more impressive than they had been when we first landed in Fusan and passed on to Seoul. Soil and landscape, as unmodified by man, are in this part of Japan almost exactly similar to southern Korea. Indeed, geologically speaking, they are the same continent; at one time in the past they were doubtless physically united. But how different the two countries at the present time, in respect of all the signs of human activity and human enterprise! Our Japanese companion explained the prosperity of this part of his native land as growing out of the nature of its early history. Prince Mori was formerly lord of all this part of Japan, nearly as far eastward as Hiogo. When driven by Hideyoshi to its western extremity, he had taken with him a large number of his best retainers. Their support in the two or three districts which he was still allowed to retain became at once a most difficult practical problem. But it was solved by stimulating the farmers and the trading classes to the highest possible activity in improving the natural resources, which were by no means unusually great in this part of Japan. Thus it was the men who made the country rich, and not the country that made the men rich. One other illustration of the characteristically different spirit of the two countries was mentioned in the same connection. At one time when Hideyoshi was making war upon Prince Mori, he was called back by a rebellion in his own rear. One of his most devoted friends and adherents had been murdered by the rebels. Whereupon, Hideyoshi summoned his enemy, told him frankly the truth as to the necessity of his abandoning for the present his intention to deprive him of all his dominions, and suggested that the time would be opportune for the Prince to recover much of his lost ancestral estate. But Prince Mori declined to take advantage of Hideyoshi’s necessity, since the latter was going, as in knightly-honor bound, to avenge the death of a friend.

On coming to anchor in the harbor of Shimonoseki we found the superintendent of the port ready with his launch to convey us to the shore. After an hour at the hotel, during which the chief of police made an official call to pay his respects and give us additional assurance that we were to be well protected, we parted at the train, with sincere regret, from the Japanese friend who had so kindly arranged all for our comfort during our two months in Korea.

The appearance of the country along the western end of the Sanyo Railway on this last day of May, 1907, fully confirmed the account of the character and the policy of the men who, since the time of Hideyoshi, have developed it. The views of the sea on the right-hand side of the train cannot easily be surpassed anywhere in the world. On the other side, the fields in the valleys, and the terraces on the hills, constitute one almost continuous, highly cultivated garden for more than one hundred miles. The tops of the mountains, except in a few unfavorable spots, are covered with forests of thickly-set and varied arborage. The comparatively damp climate of Japan covers with that exquisite soft haze which the Japanese artists appreciate so highly and reproduce so well, the same kind of soil and of rocks which shine out so bright and strong in their coloring across the straits in Korea.

In the train, my next neighbor on my right—a big German who smoked strong cigars incessantly, and who said that he had been in the Orient for forty years—declared unhesitatingly that the people of Japan, outside of a certain portion of a few cities where foreign influences had operated most strongly, were all savages to-day, as they were when the country was first opened to Western civilization. When he was reminded that the percentage of children in actual attendance in the public schools was much larger than in the United States, and at least equal to the most favored parts of Germany, he replied that the children were never really being taught in school, but always to be seen out of doors, going through some kind of “fanatics” or gymnastics! It is no wonder that this comment elicited no reply. But the picture of the more than a score of thousands of eager and attentive teachers and students to whom I had spoken—not by way of occasional, popular speeches, but in courses of lectures and addresses on serious themes—left me unconvinced. Nor was the remark attributed to the inferior insight of his own nation, whose scholastic training for diplomatic service has been superior to that of other countries, and whose commercial education is fast approaching the same grade of excellence. But it was another lesson in the purely external and untrustworthy character of the prevailing knowledge of the Far East, its people, their excellences and their faults; and, per contra, of the only way reasonably to estimate and effectually to attain friendly relations with men in general and with Oriental peoples in particular. The views of the “old resident”—missionary, diplomat, or business man—as such, are of little or no value. This is especially true as touching the relations of Japan and Korea.