The queen’s faction were diametrically opposed to the most cherished prejudices of the Regent. They favored, or at least looked with complacency upon, the growth of Roman Catholicism, they favored the policy of listening to China’s advice in the matter of foreign relations. They were doubtless urged in this direction partly by pure opposition to the Regent and partly by the representations of the Japanese who had gained the ear of royalty. The palace was the scene of frequent and violent altercations between the heads of these two factions, but an open rupture did not occur until the year 1873 when an official named Ch‘oe Ik-hyŭn memorialised the throne speaking disparagingly of the presence of the Japanese in the palace and, toward the end, charging the Regent with indirection in the use of the public funds. The king had for some time been growing restive under the control of the Regent, being led to some extent by the new party of which the queen was the patroness and at whose head stood her brother, Min Seung-ho. The memorial was received with marks of approval by the king and he immediately cut off a large part of the revenues of the Regent. At the same time Min Seung-ho approached the Regent’s son, Yi Chă-myŭn, elder brother to the king, and suggested that if the Regent could be removed they two might share the leadership of affairs. The young man accepted the offer and ranged himself in line with the opposition. The Regent was now in great straits. The combination against him had proved too strong, and in the last moon of 1873 he shook off the dust of Seoul from his feet and retired to Ka-p‘yŭng, thirty-five miles to the east of the capital. After five months of residence there he returned as far as the village of Ko-deung ten miles to the north-east of Seoul.

Among the people there was still a strong element that favored the ex-Regent. They missed a strong personality at the helm of state, for the Koreans have always preferred a strong even if tyrannical leadership. In recognition of this sentiment it was deemed wise to put the ex-Regent’s brother, whom he had always kept severely in the back-ground, in the prominent if not necessarily important position of Prime Minister. He proved as was intended a mere puppet in the hands of the Min party who by this time had absorbed the whole power of the government. He was allowed, in compensation for this, to control the sale of public offices to his own profit, but always under the vigilant eye of the dominant faction.

A new era in the metamorphosis of Korea had now begun. Public affairs in the peninsula took a new direction. Min Seung-ho was court favorite and it looked as if matters would soon settle down to something like their former tranquility. But the latter days of the year were destined to bring a severe shock to the leaders of the new party. One day Min Seung-ho received a letter purporting to be from a certain party with whom he was on intimate terms, and with it came a casket wrapped in silk. He was requested to open it only in the presence of his mother and his son. Late at night in his inner chamber he opened it in the presence of these members of his family, but when he lifted the cover the casket exploded with terrific force killing the three instantly and setting the house on fire. As Min Seung-ho had but one enemy bold enough to perpetrate the deed the popular belief that it was done by his great rival is practically undisputed, though no direct evidence perhaps exists.

Min T‘ă-ho immediately stepped into the place made vacant by the terrible death of the favorite. Soon after this the government discontinued the use of the 100 cash pieces with which the Regent had diluted the currency of the country. In the second moon of 1874 the crown prince was born. The year was also signalised by the remittance in perpetuity of the tax on real estate in and about the city of Seoul.

In 1875 three of the ex-Regent’s friends, led by Cho Ch‘ung-sik, memorialised the throne begging that the Prince Tai-wŭn be again reinstated in power. For this rash act they were all condemned to death, and it was only by the personal intercession of the ex-Regent that the sentence was commuted to banishment for life. Even so, Cho Ch‘ung-sik was killed at his place of exile.

In September the Japanese man-of-war Unyo Kwan, after making a trip to Chefoo, approached the island of Kang-wha to make soundings. Approaching the town of Yöng-jŭng, they sent a small boat ashore to look for water. As they neared the town they were suddenly fired upon by the Koreans in the little fortress, who evidently took them for Frenchmen or Americans. A moment later the small boat was turned about and was making toward the man-of-war again. The commander gave instant orders for summary punishment to be inflicted for this perfectly unprovoked[unprovoked] assault. He opened fire on the town and soon silenced the batteries. A strong body of marines was landed which put the garrison to flight, seized all the arms and provisions and fired the town. The man-of-war then steamed away to Nagasaki to report what had occurred.

At this time there were in Japan two parties who took radically different views of the Korean question. One of these parties, led by Saigo of Satsuma, smarting under the insulting way in which Korea had received the Japanese overtures, would listen to nothing but instant war. The other party, which saw more clearly the vital points in the question at issue, urged peaceful measures. The policy of the latter prevailed and it was decided to send an embassy to attempt the ratification of a treaty, and if that failed war was to be the alternative. This peace policy was so distasteful to the war party that Saigo returned to Satsuma and began to set in motion those agencies which resulted in the sanguinary Satsuma Rebellion.

For many centuries there had been a strip of neutral[neutral] territory between the Korean border, the Yalu River, and the Chinese border which was marked by a line of stakes. This strip of land naturally became the hiding place[place] of refugees and criminals from both countries, for here they were free from police supervision whether Korean or Chinese. The statesman Li Hung-chang recognized this to be a menace to the wellfare[wellfare] of both countries and took steps to put an end to it, by sending a strong body of troops who, in conjunction with a gunboat, succeeded in breaking up the nest of desperadoes and rendering the country fit for colonisation. Two years later this strip of land was definitely connected with China and the two countries again faced each other across the waters of the Yalu.[Yalu.]

The Korean attack upon the Unyo Kwan off Kang-wha proved the lever which finally roused Japan to active steps in regard to the opening of Korea. The war party regarded it as their golden opportunity, while the peace party believed it would pave the way for a peaceful accomplishment of their purpose. An envoy was despatched to Peking to sound the policy of that government. The Chinese, fearing that they would be held responsible for the misdoings of Korea denied, all responsibility and virtually acknowledged the independence of the peninsula. At the same time a military and naval expedition under Kiroda Kiyotaku, seconded by Inouye Bunda, sailed for Kang-wha with a fleet of gunboats, containing in all some 800 men. The Chinese had already advised the Korean government to make terms with the Japanese, and this in fact was the wish of the dominant party; so, when the Japanese demand reached Seoul, that commissioners be sent to Kang-wha to treat with the visitors the government quickly complied. Two high officials. Sin Hön and Yun Cha-seung, were despatched to Kang-wha and the first definite step was taken toward casting off the old time isolation policy, the fond dream of the ex-Regent.

The Japanese envoy opened the conference by asking why the Koreans had given no answer to the repeated requests of the Japanese for the consummation of a treaty of peace and friendship. The Korean commissioner replied that from the very earliest times Japan had always addressed Korea in respectful language, but that now she had arrogated to herself the title of Great Japan and called her ruler the Great Emperor. This seemed to imply the vassalage of Korea, an entirely new role for her to play. The Japanese replied that the mere assumption of the name of empire on the part of Japan implied nothing as to the status of Korea one way or the other. This seemed to satisfy the Koreans.