Corea: The Hermit Nation

by William Elliot Griffis

The squadron proceeded up the river at 10 o’clock, on the morning of the 10th of June, two steam-launches moving in advance of the Monocacy. The boats were in tow of the Palos, which moved at 10.30. The day was bright, clear, and warm. A short distance above the isle Primauguet a junk was seen approaching, the Coreans waving a white flag and holding a letter from one of the ministers of the court. One of the steam-launches met the junk, and the letter was received. It was translated by Mr. Drew, but as it contained nothing which, in the American eyes, seemed like an apology, the squadron moved on. At 1 o’clock the Monocacy arrived within range of the first fort and opened with her guns, which partly demolished the walls and emptied it in a few seconds.

The landing party, after a two minutes’ pull at the oars, reached the shore, and disembarked about eight hundred yards below the fort. The landing-place was a mud-flat, in which the men sunk to their knees in the tough slime, losing gaiters, shoes, and even tearing off the legs of their trousers in their efforts to advance. The howitzers sank to their axles in the heavy ooze.

Once on firm land, the infantry formed, the marines deploying as skirmishers. Unarmed refugees from the villages were not harmed, and the first fort was quietly entered. The work of demolition was begun by firing everything combustible and rolling the guns into the river. Day being far spent when this was finished, the whole force went into camp and bivouacked, taking every precaution against surprise. Four companies of infantry were first detailed to drag the howitzers out of the mud, a task which resembled the wrenching of an armature off a twenty-horse power magnet.

Our men lay down to sleep under the stars. All was quiet that Saturday night, except the chatting round the camp-fires and [[413]]the croaking of the Corean frogs, as the men cleaned themselves and prepared for their Sunday work. Toward midnight a body of white-coats approached, set up a tremendous howling, and began a dropping fire on our main pickets. As they moved about in the darkness, they looked like ghosts. When the long roll was sounded, our men sprang to their arms and fell in like old veterans. A few shells were scattered among the ghostly howlers, and all was quiet again. The marines occupied a strong position half a mile from the main body, a rice-field dividing them, with only a narrow foot-path in the centre. They slept with their arms at their side, and, divided into three reliefs, kept watch.

While at the anchorage off Boisée Island that evening, twelve native Christians, approaching noiselessly in the dark, made signs of a desire to communicate. They had come in a junk from some point on the coast to inquire after their pastor, Ridel, and two other French missionaries whom they expected. To their great distress, the Americans could give them no information. Fearing lest the government might know, from the build of their craft, from what part of the country they came, and punish them for communicating with the foreigners, they burned their boat and returned home.

Next day was Sunday. The reveille was sounded in the camps, breakfast eaten, and blankets rolled up. Company C and the pioneers were sent into the fort to complete its destruction, by burning up the rice, dried fish, and huts still standing.

The march began at 7 A.M. The sun rolled up in a cloudless sky and the weather was very warm. It was a rough road, if, indeed, it could be called such, being but a bridle-path over hills and valleys, and through rice fields. Whole companies were required to drag the howitzers up the hills and through the narrow defiles. The marines led the advance. The next line of fortifications, the “middle fort,” was soon entered. The guns were found loaded, as they had been deserted as soon as the fort was made a target by the Monocacy, every one of whose shots told. The work of dismantling was here thoroughly done. The sixty brass pieces of artillery, all of them insignificant breech-loaders of two-inch bore, were tumbled into the river, and the fort appropriately named “Fort Monocacy.”

The difficult march was resumed under a blazing sun and in steaming heat. A succession of steep hills lay before them. Sappers and miners, with picks, shovels, and axes, went ahead levelling and widening the road, cutting bushes and filling hollows. The [[414]]guns had to be hauled up and lowered down the steep places by means of ropes. Large masses of white coats and black heads hovered on their flanks, evidently purposing to get in the rear. Their numbers were increasing. The danger was imminent. The fort must be taken soon or never.

A detachment of five howitzers and three companies were detailed to guard the flanks and rear under Lieutenant-Commander Wheeler. The main body then moved forward to storm the fort (citadel). This move of our forces checkmated the enemy and made victory sure, redeeming a critical moment and turning danger into safety.

Hardly were the guns in position, when the Coreans, massing their forces, charged the hill in the very teeth of the howitzers’ fire. Our men calmly took sure aim, and by steadily firing at long range, so shattered the ranks of the attacking force that they broke and fled, leaving a clear field. The fort was now doomed. The splendid practice of our howitzers effectually prevented any large body of the enemy from getting into action, and made certain the capture of the citadel.