CITY OF SEOUL. [PAGE 3]
FIFTEEN YEARS AMONG THE TOP-KNOTS
CHAPTER I
First Arrival—First Impressions—The City of Seoul—Korean Houses—Mission Homes—Personnel of Mission in 1888—Beginnings of Work—Difficulties in Attaining the Language—Korean Religions—Palace Women—First Interview with Palace Women—Entertainment Given in my Honor by President of Foreign Office—The Interdict—Confidence Exhibited by Government in Protestant Missionaries—The “Baby Riots”—Babies Reported to have been Eaten at Foreign Legations—Restoring Confidence—The Signal—First Invitation to Palace.
I landed in Korea at the port of Chemulpo on a cloudy, windy March day, in 1888. My eyes fell on a rocky shore, back of which the bare sharp outline of low hills, whitened with patches of snow, was relieved by no trees to break the monotony of the scene. Dreary mud flats, instead of a sandy beach, lay reeking and slimy along the water’s edge. As our boat neared the shore, for there was and is no pier, and ships even at high tide cannot approach very near, wild and strange-looking men, uttering wild and strange-sounding speech, came hurrying down the hill to inspect us.
Their coarse black hair was long and dishevelled, in some instances braided in a single pigtail, in most cases, however, tied on top of the head, where a careless attempt at a top-knot had been made, but elf-locks straying round the neck and face gave a wolfish and unkempt appearance. They were Mongolians with all the race features, not differing much from Chinese or Japanese except in dress, and being in the main rather taller than the latter people. Their garments appeared to consist of a short loose jacket and long baggy trousers, of a dirty white native cloth. These garments among the poorer classes are never changed oftener than twice in a month.
These were the people among whom I had come to work—this the country which I had chosen instead of the “groves and templed hills” of my own dear native land. My heart swelled, and lifted up an earnest prayer that it might not be in vain.
In justice to the Koreans, however, I ought to say here, that the people whom I saw that morning were of the lowest and roughest class, their dress the poorest sort, and that Chemulpo, especially in March, is perhaps the most forbidding and unsightly place in Korea. Being the main port for the capital, it is made up, as ports often are, very largely of a mixture of various nationalities. Many sailors and traders, and especially Chinese and Japanese merchants, have built their poor houses and shops in the main town.