On the 29th, an officer from one of the villages of the district appeared, “whose presence inspired the greatest dread among the people.” An interview was held, during which Commander Shufeldt possessed his soul in patience.
To the polished American’s eye, the Corean’s manner was haughty and imperious. He was utterly beyond the reach of reason and of argument. In his person he seemed “the perfect type of a cruel and vindictive savage.” The Corean’s impressions of the American, not being in print, are unknown.
It is unnecessary to give the details of the fruitless interview. The American could get neither information nor satisfaction; the gist of the Corean reiteration was, “Go away as soon as possible.” Commander Shufeldt, bound by his orders, could do nothing more, and being compelled also by stress of weather, came away.
In 1867, Dr. S. Wells Williams, Secretary of the Legation of the United States at Peking, succeeded in obtaining an interview with a member of the Corean embassy, who told him that after the General Sherman got aground, she careened over, as the tide receded, and her crew landed to guard or float her. The natives gathered around them, and before long an altercation took place between the two parties, which soon led to blows and bloodshed. A general attack began upon the foreigners, in which every man was killed by the mob. About twenty of the natives lost their lives. Dr. Williams’ comment is, “The evidence goes to uphold the presumption that they invoked their sad fate by some rash or violent act toward the natives.” Dr. Williams also met a Chinese pilot, Yu Wautai, who reported that in 1867 he had seen the hull of a foreign vessel lying on the south bank of the river, about ten miles up from the sea. The hull was full of water. A Corean from Sparrow Island had told him that the murder of the Sherman’s crew was entirely the work of the people and farmers, and not of the magistrates or soldiery.
Still determined to learn something of the fate of the Sherman’s crew, since reports were current that two or more of them were still alive and in prison, Admiral Rowan, in May, 1867, despatched another vessel, which this time got into the right river. Commander [[395]]Febiger, in the U. S. steamship Shenandoah, besides surveying the “Ping Yang Inlet,” learned this version of the affair:
A foreign vessel arrived in the river two years before. The local officials went on board and addressed the two foreign officers of the ship in respectful language. The latter grossly insulted the native dignitaries, i.e., “they turned round and went to sleep.”
A man on board, whom they spoke of as “Tony,[5] a Frenchman,” used violent and very impolite language toward them. The Coreans treated their visitors kindly, but warned them of their danger, and the unlawfulness of penetrating into, or trading in the country. Nevertheless, the foreigners went up the river to Ping-an city, where they seized the “adjutant-general’s” ship, put him in chains, and proceeded to rob the junks and their crews. The people of the city aroused to wrath, attacked the foreign ship with fire-arms and cannon; they set adrift fire-rafts, and even made a hand-to-hand fight with pikes, knives, and swords. The foreigners fought desperately, but the Coreans overpowered them. Finally, the ship, having caught fire, blew up with a terrific report.
This story was not of course believed by the American officers, but even the best wishers and friends of the Ping-an adventurers cannot stifle suspicion of either cruelty or insult to the natives. Knowing the character of certain members of the party, and remembering the kindness shown to the crew of the Surprise, few of the unprejudiced will believe that the General Sherman’s crew were murdered without cause. [[396]]
[1] The Honorable Gideon Nye, of China, from whose article in “The Far East” these facts are drawn concerning the first consul of the United States to China, has effectually disproved the oft-quoted statement of Sir John Davis in his “History of China,” that “It was in the year 1802 that the American flag was first hoisted at Canton.” Dr. William Speer in his excellent book—fair to the Chinese as well as to foreigners—has told the story of Jonathan Edwards and his troubles over ginseng and the drink which his Indian pupils bought with it. [↑]