The emperor knew that he had the king secure, and he determined to delay the ratification of a treaty until his captive was reduced to the last crust, in order to brand upon the memory of all Koreans the indubitable fact of their vassalage and to teach them a lesson that they should never forget. And so the days slipped by.
On the sixth of the moon Korean messengers succeeded in getting through the Manchu lines and brought the king letters from his two sons on the island of Kang-wha, but the Manchus were aware of this and redoubled their diligence in guarding the approaches, and so the king was completely cut off from the outside. A few days later a costly joke was played by the Korean Gen. Kim On-yun. He led a small party outside the West Gate and soon returned with two heads. The king praised him and gave him presents of silk. The heads were raised on pikes, but behold, no blood came from them. A soldier in the ranks cried out, “Why is my brother killed twice?” The truth is that the General had beheaded two corpses of Koreans whereby to obtain praise and favor from the king. The king replaced the heads by those of the general and his second.
On the twelfth the king’s emissaries went into the Manchu camp bearing a letter from the king. They were told that a great Manchu general was about to arrive and that they must come again the next day. The people in Nam-han were in desperate straits. All who had advocated continued resistance now urged surrender, excepting Kim Sang-hön and Chong On, who said, “Not till every soldier is dead, and all the common people as well, will it be time to think of giving in.”
The next day the messengers presented themselves in the Manchu camp as ordered. The general who received them said, “You broke your former treaty with us. Are you prepared to keep it if we make another?” The messengers beat upon their breasts and cried, “It was our fault and not the fault of the king. We are willing to prove this with our lives.” “But why do you not come out and fight?” “We are an insignificant power and how can we hope to cope with you?” was the humble reply. The Manchu then broke the seal of the king’s letter and read, “When we signed the former treaty you were the elder brother and we the younger brother. When a younger brother does wrong it is for the older brother to correct him, but if it is done too severely a principle of righteousness[righteousness] is broken, and the Supreme Being will be offended. We are dwellers in a corner of the sea. We know nothing but books. We are no warriors. We are weak and must bow before superior force. So we accept the clemency of the Manchus, and we are now vassals and you are our suzerain. When the Japanese invaded our land and we were on the verge of destruction, China sent her hosts and saved us. Our gratitude to them lives in the very fiber of our bones. Even at the risk of incurring your anger we could not bear to cast them off. If now the Manchu power shows us kindness and goes back across the Yalu, our gratitude toward them will be the same. We have been a long time imprisoned here and we are tired and cramped. If you consent to overlook our faults we will engage to treat the Manchu power rightly. These sentiments are engraved on our very hearts and we surrender ourselves[ourselves] to the clemency of the Manchu emperor.”
Food was now practically gone. The officials themselves were put on half rations and even the king’s daily supply was diminished by one third. At the very most there was enough to last but twenty days more. At this time the Manchus burned the buildings in connection with the royal tombs outside the east Gate, and also those near Nam-han. The smoke of the burning went up to heaven. These acts of vandalism must have been a bitter drop in the cup that was being put to the king’s lips. On the sixteenth Hong Sö-bong again went to the Manchu camp and asked why no answer was sent. The truth is that the Manchus had determined to first send and reduce the Island of Kang-wha. They answered, “Gen. Kong Yu-dŭk has gone with 70,000 men to take Kang-wha. We must wait till he returns.” The next day they sent the king an insulting letter saying, “Why do you not come out and fight? We thought we would get at least a little fight out of you. Have not your soldiers learned to load and fire? China is your good friend; why does she not send and help you? Now you are starving and yet you have the impudence to talk about righteousness. Heaven helps the good and punishes the evil. Those who trust us we aid, those who oppose we decapitate. As we have become your enemies you see us here in force. If you will come back to your allegiance we will treat you as a brother. If you wish to live, come out and surrender; if you will come out and fight so much the better. Heaven will decide between us.” This received from the Koreans, starving though they were, the following memorable reply, “We will die and rot here in our fortress before we will surrender thus. Then there will be no one to answer your insulting summons.”
On the eighteenth a Manchu general came near the South Gate and demanded that the king should come out and surrender or else come out and fight. The king thereupon sent a letter to the Manchu headquarters saying that he wanted to come out and surrender but that he did not dare to do so while the Manchu soldiers were prowling about the wall. As the king handed this letter to the messenger Kim Sang-hön snatched it from the messenger’s hand and tore it in fragments saying, “How can you bear to send such a letter. Heaven will still favor us if we are patient, but if we send this we are truly undone.” Then followed a scene in which the courtiers almost came to blows. Ch’oe Myŭng-gil took the fragments of the letter and pasted them together and the next day in company with another general took it to the Manchus. They were met with the gruff reply, “We do not want your letters. We want your king to come out and surrender.” That night the Manchus scaled the wall on the east side and a great panic followed, but Gen. Yi Keui-ch’uk, with a body of picked men succeeded in driving back the enemy. On the twentieth an answer was received from the emperor who said, “The reason why we demand that you come out and surrender is that we may have a visible proof of your sincerity. If we depart now leaving you still king of Korea all will be well. Why should I deceive you since I am conquering the whole world besides? Need I use guile? I desire to punish only those who advised you to cleave to China and prove untrue to us. Before surrendering you must send those men bound to me. I shall kill them but the rest of you will be safe. One thing is certain. I will read no more of your letters.” When the king saw this he cried, “I cannot send those men bound to him.” In spite of the ominous closing words of the emperor’s letter the king again wrote saying, “Korea to the worshipful, glorious, puissant, merciful emperor, greeting. We are narrow and provincial people and very deficient in manners but the contrast between our present mental attitude and that of a few months ago is surprising. Among our councillors some argued one way and some argued another but now starvation has brought us all to the same point and we know that we must become subjects of the Manchu power. But since the days of Silla there has never been seen such a thing as a king going out from his fortress to surrender. We cannot do it in that way. If you insist upon it you will soon have nothing left but a fortress full of dead. I have signified my willingness to surrender but if I should go out to you the people would never again recognize me as king and anarchy will result. I long ago banished the men who opposed the making of peace with the Manchus, so I cannot send them to you, but the emperor must now be gracious and forgive our mistake.” When the Manchu general was about to send this scornfully back Yi Hong-ju told him that it was written by the officials and that nothing more was possible; and that if anyone suggested to the king the advisability of coming out it would mean instant death. But the Manchu drove them away in a rage. One official named Chöng On violently opposed all these attempts at securing a cessation of hostilities and said it would be better to sit there and rot than to surrender. He urged that the fighting be continued.
Chapter VIII.
The refugees on Kang-wha.... crossing the ferry.... the Princess blames the commander.... grain saved.... cross-purposes.... Manchu rafts.... Manchus gain a footing on Kang-wha.... Gen. Kim’s flight.... Koreans massacred.... royal captives.... suicide.... ancestral tablets dishonored.... list of the dead.... from Kang-wha to Nam-han.... fierce attacks.... bombardment.... the king learns of the fall of Kang-wha..... Manchu victims sent.... arrangements for the surrender.... the Manchu conditions.... the king comes out of Nam-han.... the ceremony.... disgraceful scramble.... the king enters Seoul.... condition of the capital.... Manchu army retires.... a high-priced captive.... king and Crown Prince part.... rewards and punishments.... the island of Ko-do taken.... an unselfish act.
We must leave the king and his court, facing starvation on the one hand and the deep humiliation of surrender on the other, and see how it fared with the people on Kang-wha. This island had earned the reputation of being impregnable, because of the failure of the Mongols to take it when the king of Koryo found refuge there. Kim Kyŭng-jeung was the commander of the garrison there and Im In-gu was second in command. Chang Sin had charge of the naval defenses. When the king sent the Crown Princess, the royal concubines, the second and third princes and the aged officials and their wives to Kang-wha a few days before his flight to Nam-han they were under the escort of Gen. Kim Kyŭng-jeung, who was also taking his wife and mother to the same place for safety. It was a long cavalcade, stretching miles along the road. Arriving at the ferry which was to take the party across the narrow channel to the island, Gen. Kim deliberately began by filling the boats with the members of his own family and fifty horse-loads of furniture which they had brought along, and the Princess and the other royal fugitives had to wait. For two whole days the Crown Princess was obliged to stay on the farther side in imminent danger of seizure by the Manchus. At last she summoned Gen. Kim and said, “Are not these boats the property of the king? Why then do you use them only for your relatives and friends while we wait here in danger?” As there was no possible excuse for his conduct he was obliged to accede to the demand, but only just in time; for, though there were thousands of people still waiting to cross, a foraging band of Manchus arrived on the scene and the terrified multitude rushed headlong into the water, “like leaves driven by the wind,” and multitudes were drowned. Large store of government rice was lying at Kim-p’o and Tong-jin, and as the Manchus had not as yet discovered it, Gen. Kim was able to get it across to the island; but no one excepting the members of his own family and following were allowed to have any part of it. He had such faith in the impregnability of Kang-wha that he set no guards and spent his time in feasting and playing chess. Prince Pong-im suggested that it would be well to keep a good lookout, but the general replied sharply. “Who is in command of this place, you or I?” This Gen. Kim was the son of Gen. Kim Nyu who had charge of the defence of Nam-han and between them they managed things about as they pleased. There was a running fire of dispute between Gen Kim and the other leaders on Kang-wha and anything but good order and concerted action prevailed among the forces set for the defence of the people there. The Manchus, although without boats, had no intention to leave the island untaken, and so they pulled down houses far and near and made rafts with the timbers.
As it was in the dead of winter there was much ice on either bank of the estuary, and as the tide rises some thirty feet there the crossing was a difficult feat, even though the actual distance was small. Soon the message came from the ferry guards that the Manchus had finished their rafts and would soon be attempting the passage. Gen. Kim called them fools for thinking the Manchus would dare to cross in the face of such obstacles, but when it was announced that they had actually embarked in their improvised craft he bestirred himself. He sent a force under Yun Sin-ji to guard the upper ferry, Yu Chŭng-nyang took charge of the middle ferry, Yu Sŭng-jeung guarded the lower ferry and Yi Hyŭng was on guard at Ma-ri-san, still lower down. Gen. Kim stationed himself at the middle ferry. There was a great lack of arms, but as there were plenty in the Kang-wha arsenal the soldiers demanded them; but Gen. Kim refused. It was the intention of the Manchus to cross under fire of certain huge cannon which they had planted on the opposite bank. When the shot from these began kicking up the dust about Gen. Kim he found he was urgently needed elsewhere and was hardly restrained by the indignant outcry of his lieutenants. The Manchus were then seen boarding their strange craft and in the very fore front came a raft with seventeen men who held shields in one hand while they paddled with the other. Admiral Chang Sin was lower down with a fleet of boats and he made desperate efforts to come to the place where this crossing was taking place, but the tide which runs there like a mill-race was against him and he could make no headway at all. He simply stood in his boat and beat his breast with anger and chagrin. Kang Sin-sŭk was farther up the estuary with other boats and he hastened to come down; but it was too late. The first raft full of Manchus had gained a foothold on the island. The Koreans found their powder wet and the arrows exhausted. As a consequence the whole force, numbering about two hundred men, turned and fled before seventeen Manchus. These men paced up and down the shore waiting for reinforcements, for which they had signalled. Gen. Kim had already fled in a small boat, which finally landed him far down the coast. Then the whole Manchu army made its way across, some on rafts and some in boats which were sent from the island. The Crown Princess wanted to make her escape with her little two year old boy, but the Manchu soldiers at the gate of the fortress would not let her come out. She then gave the boy to Kim In and he managed to get through the lines and escape to the main land with the child, which he took to Tang-jin in Ch’ung-ch’ŭng Province. The Princess attempted suicide with a knife but did not succeed. The Manchus called out to Minister Yun Pang and said, “We will occupy the right side of the fortress and you and the royal personages and other persons of high degree can occupy the other side.” They then took all the common people outside the North Gate of the fortress and set them in long lines. These people were all wondering what was about to happen, when out came a standard bearer carrying a red flag and behind him came a soldier with a bared sword. Walking along the lines they cut down every one of these innocent, unoffending people. The Manchus issued passes to the Koreans in the fortress and no one could go in or out without showing his credentials. All the people living in the vicinity who did not run away were massacred.