Not many days after this visit to the palace, an official appeared at my home with a number of interesting and beautiful gifts from the queen, including a fine embroidered screen, embroidered pillow, and bed cushions, native silks, linens, cotton materials, fans, pockets and various other articles.
Her majesty was extremely generous, and it was nothing unusual for her thus to bestow in most munificent fashion gifts upon the members of our mission whom she had met, and upon the ladies of the legations. Every Korean New Year’s day any of us who were in the slightest way connected with the palace or government institutions received many pheasants, bags of nuts, pounds of beef, large fish, hundreds of eggs and pounds of dried persimmons.
On the royal birthdays, too, dainties were sent to us, and at the beginning of each summer dozens of fans and jars of honey water were presented. This open-handed generosity indicated not only the queen’s kind disposition, but the favor with which all Americans were regarded by the Korean authorities, due largely to the favorable impression which Dr. Allen had made, and also perhaps to the fact that we belonged to a large and powerful nation, which had no object in interfering in Eastern politics in any way to the detriment of Korea, and which might become an efficient ally and defender.
During my first year I had the exciting and doubtful privilege of being present at a native sectional or stone fight, an experience which few covet even once—and which the wise and informed, at least of womankind, invariably forego. Once a year at a certain season, where two neighborhoods or sections have grievances against each other, they settle them by one of these fights. They choose captains, arrange the opposing parties, and begin firing stones and tiles at each other. As one crowd or the other is by turns victorious, and the pursued flee before their enemies, and as those who are at one moment triumphant are often the very next the vanquished, hotly chased, it is almost impossible to find any safe point of vantage from which to view the conflict. At any instant the place one has chosen, as well removed and safe, may become the ground of the hottest battle. Very large stones are often thrown, and people are fatally injured, though not as frequently as one would think. It is a wonder that hundreds are not killed or wounded. In going from my home to visit a friend one day, a few weeks after my arrival, I was obliged to pass a large crowd of men, who seemed divided into two parties, and were very noisy and vociferous. I remarked upon this to my friend, and sending to inquire, we found it was the preliminaries of a stone fight which I had witnessed. Her husband said it would not be safe for me to return alone, and therefore to my lasting gratitude offered to see me through it.
We soon found that the stones and missiles were coming our way, and were forced to run for shelter to a Korean house. For a few moments the fight was hot around us, and then as it seemed to have passed on—quite far down the street—we ventured forth, only to find that the tide had again turned, and the whole mob were tearing in our direction. Mr. Bunker, for it was he, said there was nothing for it but to scale a half-broken wall into an adjacent compound, and run for it to the house of Mr. Gilmore, not far distant. So, reckless of my best gown, I scaled the wall with great alacrity, and we ran for it quite shamelessly. Missiles of considerable size were raining around us, and the possibility, or rather probability, that one would soon light on our heads, accelerated our speed to no small degree. These affairs are often funny in retrospect, but smack strongly of the tragic at the time, while the outcome is so decidedly uncertain. However, by much dodging and circling, frequently sheltering ourselves under the wall, we at length reached Mr. Gilmore’s house, when, in a somewhat ruffled and perturbed condition, I waited till the coast was quite clear and found my way home, a wiser and deeply thoughtful woman.
On one occasion not long since an affair of this kind threatened very serious results for a hot-headed young compatriot of ours, who went to photograph one of these fights. A cool-headed American recently snapped his camera on a tiger here before shooting it, and it may have been in emulation of him, that our young friend made this attempt. He soon became convinced that he was the object at which all the missiles were sent, and that the bloodthirsty ruffians were all seeking his life. Being unfortunately as well as unlawfully armed with a six-shooter, over-excited and alarmed, he fired into the crowd and fled. His bullet entered the fleshy part of the leg of one of the natives, who fell, as most of them supposed, mortally wounded; and now indeed the wrath of the crowd on both sides was directed at its hottest against the thoroughly frightened young man. He ran for his life—the crowd pursuing with yells of fury. Camera and overcoat were flung away—he had nearly a mile to go to reach shelter in the American legation, which he at length managed to do, panting and almost exhausted. As his victim was not seriously hurt, he escaped with the payment of a fine, a few weeks’ imprisonment, a most severe reprimand, and a polite request to leave the country.
The Koreans often evince considerable military skill in the tactics of these civil battles. Sharpshooters armed with slings will take possession of some high point, and others are sent to take them by surprise and dislodge them, suddenly creeping upon them from the rear, or scaling the rampart in the face of the enemy’s fire. These natives repeatedly prove themselves good fighters and no cowards, when armed and facing not too unequal numbers.
During this my first summer in Korea I was invited to attend a royal Quaga. This was a very interesting assemblage of Korean scholars, who met in the palace grounds, and there in little tents or booths wrote theses in Chinese on some subject given by the king. Those whose papers passed a successful examination were rewarded with some civil rank, supposed to be proportioned to the excellence of their standing. I should think that more than a thousand men from all parts of the country were gathered in these grounds, busily writing or copying their papers, some of which were then being handed to the judges.
I was told, however, that in nearly all the successful cases money was necessary to aid the judgment and clarify the minds of the judges. We were treated with great kindness, invited to a fine pavilion, and later offered refreshments in the royal dining hall. This old-time (shall I say, dishonored) institution has now fallen into disuse for some years. No doubt in its honest beginnings a truly competitive examination for office, it was good and useful, but abuses creeping in, rendered it an empty form to be finally abolished as a useless and effete remnant of ancient days.
Another event of the summer was a little trip made to Poukhan, or the northern fortress, about ten miles distant from Seoul. It is said by Koreans that a secret underground road leads from it to the palace in Seoul, so that in case of any danger, or the investment of the city by enemies, the royal family could flee hither for safety. It is in truth an ideal spot for such a purpose. European soldiers have said that properly fortified it would be for months, perhaps years, impregnable. Our visit was made in Korea’s loveliest season, the month of May, which is, if possible, more beautiful than in any other land. Wild flowers of the most exquisite hue and odor abound everywhere, but at Poukhan they seemed to be in greater quantities and lovelier colors. The mountain rises bold and rugged in outline, and its scenery is wild and in places almost forbidding, but a beautiful brook dashes down its sides, leaping over huge boulders and turning everything into luxuriant beauty, like the lovely maids of fairy lore, in whose footsteps the sweetest flowers sprang and from whose lips dropped fairest gems.