In the summer of 1653 the Dutch ship Sparwehr was cast on shore on Quelpaert island, off the southwest coast of Corea. The local magistrate did what he could for the thirty-six members of the crew who reached the shore alive, out of the sixty-four on board. On October 29th the survivors were brought by the officials to be examined by the interpreter Wetterree. The latter was very rusty in his native language, but regained it in a month. Of course the first and last idea of the captives was how to escape. They made one effort to reach the sea shore, but were caught and severely punished, after which they were ordered to proceed to the capital. Wherever they went the Dutchmen were like wild beasts on exhibition. When they once reached the palace they were well treated, and were assigned to the body guard of the king as petty officers. Each time that the Manchoo envoy made his visit to the capital the captives endeavored to enlist his sympathy and begged to be taken to Peking, but all such efforts resulted in failure and punishment. The suspicions of the government were aroused by the studies which the Dutchmen pursued, of the climate, the topography, and the products of the country, and by their attempts[attempts] to escape, and in 1663 they were separated and put into three different towns. By this time fourteen of the number were dead and twenty-two remained.

Finally, early in September 1667, as their fourteenth year of captivity was drawing to a close, the Dutchmen escaped to the seacoast, bribed a Corean to give them his fishing craft, and steered out into the open water. A few days later, they reached the northwestern islands in the vicinity of Kiushiu, Japan, and landed. The Japanese treated them kindly and sent them to Nagasaki, where they met their countrymen at Desima. The annual ship from Batavia was then just about to return, and in the nick of time the waifs got on board, reached Batavia, sailed for Holland, and in July, 1668, stepped ashore at home. Hendrik Hamel, the supercargo of the ship, wrote a book on his return recounting his adventures in a simple and straightforward style. It has been translated into English and is a model work of its sort.

The modern introduction of Christianity in Corea dates little more than a hundred years ago. Some Corean students studying with the famous Confucian professor Kwem, during the winter of 1777, entered into discussion of some tracts on philosophy, mathematics, and religion just brought from Peking. These were translations of the writings of the Jesuits in the imperial capital. Surprised and delighted, they resolved to attain if possible to a full understanding of the new doctrines. They sought all the information that they could from Peking. The leader in this movement was a student named Stonewall. As his information accumulated, he gave himself up to fresh reading and meditation, and then began to preach. Some of his friends in the capital, both nobles and commoners, embraced the new doctrines with cheering promptness and were baptized. Thus from small beginnings, but rapidly, were the Christian ideas spread.

But soon the power of the law and the pen were invoked to crush out the exotic faith. The first victim was tried on the charge of destroying his ancestral tablets, tortured, and sent into exile, in which he soon after died. The scholars now took up weapons, and in April, 1784, the king’s preceptor issued the first public document officially directed against Christianity. In it all parents and relatives were entreated to break off all relations with Christians. The names of the leaders were published, and the example of Thomas Kim, the first victim, was cited. Forthwith began a violent pressure upon the believers to renounce their faith. Then began an exhibition alike of steadfast faith and shameful apostasy, but though even Stonewall lapsed, the work went on. The next few years of Christianity were important ones. The leaders formed an organization and as nearly as they could on the lines of the Roman Catholic church. Instructions were sent from Peking by the priests there, and the worship in Corea became quite in harmony with that of the Western church. But the decision that the worship of ancestors must be abolished, was, in the eyes of the Corean public, a blow at the framework of society and state, and many feeble adherents began to fall away. December 8, 1791, Paul and Jacques Kim were decapitated for refusing to recant their Christian faith. Thus was shed the first blood for Corean Christianity. Martyrdom was frequent in this early history of the Christian church in Corea, but in the ten years following the baptism of Peter in Peking in 1783, in spite of persecution and apostasy, it is estimated that there were four thousand Christians in the peninsula.

The first attempt of a foreign missionary to enter the Hermit Kingdom from the west was made early in 1791. This was a Portuguese priest who endeavored to cross the Yalu River to join some native Christians, but was disappointed in meeting them and returned to Peking. Two years later a young Chinese priest entered the forbidden territory, and was hidden for three years in the house of a noble woman, where he preached and taught. Three native Christians who refused to reveal his whereabouts were tortured to death and were thrown into the Han River. From the beginning of this century the most bitter general persecutions against Christians was enforced. The young Chinese priest, learning that he was outlawed, surrendered himself to relieve his friends of the responsibility of protecting him, and was executed. The woman also who had so long sheltered him was beheaded. Four other women who were attendants in the palace, and an artist who was condemned for painting Christian subjects were beheaded near the “Little Western Gate” of Seoul. The policy of the government was shown in making away with the Christians of rank and education who might be able to direct affairs in the absence of the foreign priests, and in letting the poor and humble go free.

It is impossible to catalogue the martyrs and the edicts against Christianity. The condition of the Christians scattered in the mountains and forests, suffering poverty, hunger, and cold, was most deplorable. In 1811 the Corean converts addressed letters to the Pope begging aid in their distress. These however could not be answered in the way they desired, for the Pope himself was then a prisoner at Fontainebleau and the Roman propaganda was nearly at a standstill.

COREAN MANDARINS.

In 1817 the king and court were terrified by the appearance off the west coast of the British vessels Alceste and Lyra, but beyond some surveys, purchases of provisions, and interviews with some local magistrates, the foreigners departed without opening communication with them. Fifteen[Fifteen] years later the British ship Lord Amherst passed along the coasts of Chulla, seeking commercial connections. On board was a Protestant missionary, a Prussian. He landed on several of the islands and attempted to gain some acquaintance with the people, but made little progress. The year 1834 closed the first half century of Corean Christianity. It is not strange that persecutions resulted from the advance of Roman Catholic strength in Corea, for the Corean Christians assumed naturally the righteousness of the Pope’s claim to temporal power as the vicar of heaven. The Corean Christians not only deceived their magistrates and violated their country’s laws, but actually invited armed invasion. Hence, from the first, Christianity was associated in patriotic minds with treason and robbery.

After the restoration of the Bourbons in France and the strengthening of the Papal throne by foreign bayonets, the missionary zeal in the church was kindled afresh, and it was resolved to found a mission in Corea. The first priest to make entrance was Pierre Philibert Maubant, who reached Seoul in 1836, the first Frenchman who had penetrated the Hermit Nation. A few months later another joined him, and in December, 1838, Bishop Imbert ran the gauntlet of wilderness, ice, and guards at the frontier, and took up his residence under the shadow of the king’s palace. Work now went on vigorously, and in 1838 the Christians numbered nine thousand. At the beginning of the next year the party in favor of extirpating Christianity having gained the upper hand, another persecution broke out with redoubled violence. To stay the further shedding of blood, Bishop Imbert and his two priests came out of their hiding places and delivered themselves up. They were horribly tortured, and decapitated September 21, 1839. Six bitter years passed before the Christians again had a foreign pastor.