The Korean forces were numerous enough, they were brave enough and their leaders were individually capable enough; but note the sequel. All the boats had been brought over to the Korean side and so, when the Japanese arrived on the southern bank and looked down the high bluff upon the assembled hosts of the Koreans and marked the difficulty of embarkation, the swiftness of the current and the utter absence of boats or craft of any kind, they found themselves for the first time completely checked. An hour’s resistance was all they had ever met before, but here was evidently a serious obstacle.
For ten long days these great armies sat facing each other across the waters of the Im-jin. They were ten days of exultation for the Koreans and every day that passed raised the courage, or rather the self-confidence, of the Koreans, who forgot that it was nature and not they who held the foe in check. They did not dream for an instant that the Japanese were about to make them the instruments of their own destruction. When the eleventh morning broke something was seen to be going on among the Japanese, a great running about and the carrying of bundles from place to place. In a short time the reason became apparent. The Japanese had given up further advance and were preparing to retreat toward Seoul. Smoke and flame showed that they were burning their camp and soon the whole force was seen to be on the move back toward the south. To imagine the revulsion of feeling in the minds of the Koreans we should have to realize the deep humiliation to which they had been subjected, the heaps of slain they had seen, the losses in property, in homes, in relatives, in friends which they had sustained at the hands of the ruthless invaders. Instead of being pursued they were to pursue. They would dog the footsteps of the retreating army, cut off the stragglers, worry the life out of the “dwarfs,” as they called the Japanese, and finally give them a farewell kick as they left the port of Fusan on their ignominious homeward flight. Such must have been the common thought and purpose of the Koreans, and the thirst for revenge was simply unbearable. And here again comes to the front the fatal weakness of the Koreans. We have before remarked that the rise of the political parties lay at the bottom of the failure of the Korean arms against the Japanese. It has already been illustrated in the case of Gen. Sin Kak who was executed through jealousy on the very day of his great victory. Here again it is to become apparent. While Gen. Kim Myŭng-sŭn was nominally in charge of the defenses of the Im-jin he was far from being in full command of the troops massed there. A number of other generals were there and each held his own troops in hand and each wished to distinguish himself and so step over the heads of the rest into the good graces of the king. This would mean preferment and wealth. There was absolutely no supreme command, there was no common plan, there was nothing but mutual jealousy and suspicion. A young general, Sin Kil-i, who knew nothing of war, was sure that the enemy had decamped, and he wanted to cross immediately in pursuit. But this was so manifestly absurd that even the common soldiers cried out, “You had better examine carefully and see whether the enemy has actually gone.” For answer the young general had a few heads struck off, which shows he was something of a disciplinarian if nothing more. Then Gen. Yu Keuk-yang expostulated with the young man, warning him that it was surely a trick to lure them across, but the young fellow drew his sword and made a lunge at the old general and charged him with cowardice. This no one could endure, so the aged general said, “Coward, am I? Well I speak only for the good of my king; but I will be the first to cross and fall into this trap, and when you see me fall you will know that my advice was sound.” So calling his soldiers he ordered them into the boats and, throwing all caution to the winds and forgetting the best interests of his king for a petty vindication of his own bravery, he dashed across the river and up the heights. The young Sin Kil-i could do no less than follow, and when he had gained the heights beyond he found the words of the aged general true. A short distance away a half dozen naked Japanese were dancing on the border of a wood, but when the Koreans rushed at them a countless multitude of Japanese who had lain concealed in the wood poured out, and in an instant the Koreans were surrounded. The aged general having thus proved his claim to bravery, or rather foolhardiness, sat down and said, “Now has come the time for me to die.” And die he did. It was only of himself that he thought, and it was this all-pervading selfishness, bred of party strife, that neutralised every good quality in the Korean army. It was not because they were not brave nor because luxury had sapped the vitality of the noble classes but it was because no one would work with anyone else. It was because they saw in war nothing but the chance of personal advancement. And so each one deplored the successes and rejoiced in the failures of every other.
When the old general fell, the Koreans found themselves again, as in the battle in which Gen. Sin Yip fell, between the Japanese and the river. Back they rushed only to find that some of the boats had drifted away and others, being overcrowded, had sunk. Hundreds were driven into the water while others, preferring a soldier’s death, presented their necks to the swords of the Japanese.
But even yet all was not lost. A little wisdom and care might still have left the day unwon by the Japanese. They had a few boats, to be sure, but not enough to be of any use in the face of the still large Korean force on the opposite bank. But here occurred the greatest mistake of all. The generals on the northern bank, witnessing the terrible slaughter of their confreres, and not stopping to reckon the chances still remaining of successful defense, mounted their horses and gave themselves to flight. This was not only cowardice. It was thoughtlessness, carelessness in large part, and if there had been one man in command of the whole defensive force who could witness the loss of a large fraction of his force without losing his head, the Japanese would still have been as far from the northern bank as ever. The moment the soldiers saw the flight of their generals they raised a derisive shout, “The generals are running away,” and forthwith they followed the example, as they had a perfect right to do.
The Japanese leaders seeing the defenses of the river broken up by their successful strategem, immediately crossed with their entire force which Korean accounts reckon at about a quarter of a million. The Korean accounts tell us but little about the rivalry of the two Japanese leaders, Kato and Konishi, but among the Japanese it was notorious. It was impossible for them to march together for any length of time. It was this rivalry which had made them take different roads to Seoul and it was now necessary for them to part again. This jealousy was another of the potent causes of the final failure of the Japanese. Had these two men worked together they could have marched straight on to the walls of Nanking without meeting an enemy worthy of their steel. As it was they separated and scattered over the country, dissipating their power and thus frustrating the design of Hideyoshi—the conquest of China. They cast lots as to their routes and fortune favored the younger man, Konishi, who drew as his lot the straight path north where glory lay if anywhere. Kato had to be content with a dash into the province of Ham-gyŭng in the northeast. Another general, Kuroda, led a force into the western part of Whang-hă Province. All this took place in the fifth moon.
The king was resting secure in P‘yŭng-yang, trusting in the defense of the Im-jin River, when a messenger rushed in breathless, announcing that the Im-jin had been deserted and that the invaders were coming north by leaps and bounds. The town was thrown into a panic of fright and, as the Koreans truly put it, “No man had any color in his face.” Gen. Yi Il came hurrying in from the seat of war disguised as a coolie and wearing rough straw shoes. The king put him in command of the forces guarding the fords of the Ta-dong River which flows by the walls of P‘yŭng-yang.
We must note in passing a trifling success on the part of Captain Wŭn-ho who had been in charge of the ferry across the Han at Yö-ju. He had been called away into Kang-wŭn Province but returned just in time to form an ambush at Yö-ju and spring out upon a company of Japanese whom he routed, securing some fifty heads. The Koreans say that from that time the Japanese avoided the Yö-ju ferry.
Chapter VIII.
A great council.... the king decides to move to Ham-heung.... the news in China.... the king finds difficulty in leaving P‘yŭng-yang.... a parley in the channel of the Ta-dong.... the king leaves the city.... the Koreans reveal the position of the ford.... the Japanese enter P‘yŭng-yang.... the Crown Prince goes to Kang-wŭn Province.... the king pushes north.... Koreans in despair.... the indefatigable Yu Sŭng-nyong.... Song Ta-ŭp brings the queen to the king.... Kato pushes into Ham-gyŭng Province.... fight at the granaries.... Korean reverses.... a Korean betrays the two Princes.... a traitor punished.... brave defenders of Yŭn-an.... the king goes to Eui-ju.... conclave in the south.... “General of the Red Robe”.... his prowess.... he retires.... disaster at Köm-san.... a long chase.... Japanese defeated at Keum-nyŭng.
On the second day of the sixth moon the king called a great council to discuss the advisability of his staying longer in P‘yŭng-yang or of moving further north. One said, “If someone is left to guard this city it will be well for the king to move north,” but another said, “P‘yŭng-yang[P‘yŭng-yang] is a natural fortress. We have 10,000 soldiers and plenty of provisions. If the king goes a step from here it will mean the destruction of the dynasty.” Another voice urged a different course; “We have now lost half the kingdom. Only this province and that of Ham-gyŭng remain to us. In the latter there are soldiers and provisions in abundance and the king had better find there a retreat.” All applauded this advice excepting Yun Tu-su who said, “No, this will not do. The Japanese will surely visit that province too. Ham-heung is not nearly so easy of defense as P‘yŭng-yang. If the king is to leave this place there are just three courses open to him. First, he can retire to Yung-byŭn in this province and call about him the border guard. If he cannot hold that place he can go to Eui-ju on the border and ask speedy help from China. If necessary he can go up the Yalu to Kang-gye, still on Korean soil. And if worse comes to worst he can cross into Chinese territory and find asylum at Kwan-jun-bo although it is sure that he could hold out for a few months at Kang-gye before this would be necessary. I know all about Ham-heung. Its walls are of great extent but they are not high and it is open to attack from every side. Besides if he retreats northward from that place he will find nothing but savage tribes. Here he must stay.” But all cried out as with one voice that the king must go to Ham-heung. Gen. Yi Hang-bok insisted upon the necessity[necessity] of going north to the Yalu and imploring aid from China even if it became necessary for the king to find asylum on Chinese soil. But in spite of all this advice the king on the sixth of the month sent the queen on toward Ham-heung and gave orders to Yun To-su to hold P‘yŭng-yang against the Japanese. His Majesty came out and seated himself in the Ta-dong summerhouse and addressed the people saying, “I am about to start for Ham-heung but I shall leave the Crown Prince here and you must all aid him loyally.” At this the people raised a great outcry. It looked as if they would all follow the king from the city. They did not want the Prince to stay, they wanted the king.