Corea: The Hermit Nation

by William Elliot Griffis

“To all this they (the Coreans) made no reply which could indicate dissent.” [Certainly not! They had no power to nod their heads, or say either “yes” or “no.”] “So, believing that we might continue our surveys while further diplomatic negotiations were pending, an expedition was sent to examine and survey the Salée [Han] River.”[6]

The survey fleet consisted of the Monocacy, Palos, the only ships fit for the purpose, and four steam-launches, each of the latter having a howitzer mounted in the bow. Captain H. C. Blake, the commander, was on board the Palos. The old hero understood the situation only too well. As he started to obey orders he remarked: “In ten minutes we shall have a row.”

Exactly at noon of June 2d, the four steam-launches proceeded [[410]]in line abreast up the river, the Palos and Monocacy following. The tide was running up, and neither of the large vessels could be kept moving at a rate slow enough to allow the survey work to be done well, so that this part of their work is of little value.

Yet everything seemed quiet and peaceful; the bluffs and high banks along the water were densely covered with green woods, with now meadows, now a thatched-roof village, anon a rice-field in the foreground. Occasionally people could be seen in their white dresses along the banks, but not a sign of hostility or war until, on reaching the lower end of Kang-wa Island, a line of forts and fluttering flags suddenly become visible. In a few minutes more long lines of white-garbed soldiery were seen, and through a glass an interpreter read on one of the yellow flags the Chinese characters meaning “General Commanding.” In the embrasures were a few pieces of artillery of 32-pound calibre, and some smaller pieces lashed together by fives, or nailed to logs in a row. On the opposite point of the river was a line of smaller earthworks, freshly thrown up, armed only with jingals. Around the bend in the river was “a whirlpool as bad as Hell Gate,” full of eddies and ledges, with the channel only three hundred feet wide. The fort (Du Condè) was situated right on this elbow. Hundreds of mats and screens were ranged within and on the works, masking the loaded guns. As the boats passed nearer, glimpses into the fort became possible, by which it was seen that the cannon “lay nearly as thick together as gun to gun and gun behind gun on the floor of an arsenal.” (See map, page 415.)

For a moment the silence was ominous—oppressive. The hearts of the men beat violently, their teeth were set, and calm defiance waited in the face of certain death. The rapid current bore them on right into the face of the frowning muzzles. It seemed impossible to escape. Were the Coreans going to fire? If so, why not now? Immediately? Now is their opportunity. The vessels are abreast the forts.

The Corean commander was one moment too late. From the parapet under the great flag a signal gun was fired. In an instant mats and screens were alive with the red fire of eighty pieces of artillery. Then a hail of shot from all the cannon, guns, and jingals rained around the boats. Forts, batteries, and walls were hidden for a moment in smoke. The water was rasped and torn as though a hailstorm was passing over it. Many of the men in the boats were wet to the skin by the splashing of the water over them. [[411]]Old veterans of the civil war had never seen so much fire, lead, iron, and smoke of bad powder concentrated in such small space and time. “Old Blake,” who had had two ships shot under him by the Confederates, declared he could remember nothing so sharp as this.

The fire was promptly returned by the steam-launch howitzers. The Palos and Monocacy, which had forged ahead, turned back, and “Old Blake came round the point a-flying, and let drive all the guns of the Palos at them. The consequence was that they kicked so hard as to tear the bolts out of the side of the ship and render the bulwarks useless during the remainder of the fight.” The Monocacy also anchored near the point, and sent her ten-inch shells into the fort. During her movements, she struck a rock and began to leak badly. After hammering at the forts until everything in them was silenced, the squadron returned down the river, sending their explosive compliments into the forts and redoubts as they passed. All were quiet and deserted, however, but the commander’s flag was still flying unharmed and neglected. Strange to say, out of the entire fleet only one of our men was wounded and none was killed; nor did any of the ships or boats receive any damage from the batteries. Two hundred guns had been fired on the Corean side. The signal coming too late, the immovability of their rude guns, the badness of the powder, and the poor aim of the unskilled gunners, were the causes of such an incredibly small damage. It was like the bombardment of Fort Sumter in 1861, or like those battles which statistics reveal to us, in which it requires a ton of lead to kill a man.

However, it was determined by the chief representatives of the civil and naval powers to resent the insult offered to our “flag” in the “unprovoked” attack on our vessels, “should no apology or satisfactory explanation be offered for the hostile action of the Corean government.”

Ten days were now allowed to pass before further action was taken. They were ten days of inaction, except preparation for further fight and some correspondence with the local magistrate. What a pity these ten days had not been spent before, and not after, June 2d! Some civilians, not to say Christians, might also be of the opinion that ample revenge had already been taken, enough blood spilled, the “honor” of the flag fully “vindicated,” a delicate diplomatic mission of “peace” spoiled beyond further damage, and that further vengeance was folly, and more blood spilled, murder. But not so thought the powers that be. [[412]]

The chastising expedition consisted of the Monocacy, Palos, four steam-launches, and twenty boats, conveying a landing force of six hundred and fifty-one men, of whom one hundred and five were marines. The Benicia, Alaska, and Colorado remained at anchor. The total force detailed for the work of punishing the Coreans was seven hundred and fifty-nine men. These were arranged in ten companies of infantry, with seven pieces of artillery. The Monocacy had, in addition to her regular armament, two of the Colorado’s nine-inch guns. Captain Homer C. Blake, who was put in charge of the expedition, remained on the Palos.