Corea: The Hermit Nation

by William Elliot Griffis

Even Riu Kiu has seen the benefits of trade, and five merchants from what is now the Okinawa ken of the mikado’s empire—formerly the Loo Choo island kingdom—came to Tōkiō in February, 1882, to form a company with a view to establishing an agency in Fusan, and exchanging Corean products for Riu Kiu sugar, grain, and fish.

Gensan (Corean, Won-san) was opened May 1, 1880. In a fertile region, traversed by two high roads, with the fur country near, and a magnificent harbor in front, the prospects of trade are good. The Japanese concession, on which are some imposing public buildings, includes about forty-two acres. An exposition of Japanese, European, and American goods was established which was visited by 25,000 people, its object being to open the eyes and pockets of the natives, who seemed, to the Tōkiō merchants, taller, stouter, and better looking than those of Fusan. One twenty-sixth of the goods sold was Japanese, the rest, mostly cotton [[427]]goods and ‘notions,’ were American and European. The busy season of trade is in autumn and early winter. For the first three months the settlers were less troubled by tigers than by continual rumors of the approach of a band of a thousand “foreigner-haters,” who were sworn to annihilate the aliens on the sacred soil of Chō-sen. The bloodthirsty braves, however, postponed the execution of their purpose. The Japanese merchants, so far from finding the Coreans innocently verdant, soon came in contact with monopolies, rings, guilds, and tricks of trade that showed a surprising knowledge of business. Official intermeddling completed their woe, and loud and long were the complaints of the mikado’s subjects. Yet profits were fair, and the first anniversary of the opening of the port was celebrated in grand style. Besides dinners and day fireworks, the police played the ancient national game of polo, to the great amusement of the Coreans. Among the foreign visitors in May, 1881, was Doctor Frank Cowan, an American gentleman, and surgeon on the Japanese steamer Tsuruga Maru, who made a short journey in the vicinity among the good-natured natives. Besides spying out the land, and returning well laden with trophies, he records, in a letter to the State Department at Washington, this prophecy: “Next to the countries on the golden rim of the Pacific, … to disturb the monetary equilibrium of the world, will be Corea.” “The geological structure is not incompatible with the theory that the whole region [east coast] is productive of the precious metal.”

To regulate some points of the treaty, and if possible postpone the opening of the new port of In-chiŭn (Japanese, Nin-sen) a second embassy was despatched to Japan, which arrived at Yokohama, August 11, 1880. The procession of tall and portly men dressed in green, red, and pink garments of coarse cloth, with Chinese shoes, and hats of mighty diameter, moved through the streets amid the rather free remarks of the spectators, who commented in no complimentary language on the general air of dinginess which these Rip Van Winkles of the orient presented. The Coreans remained in Tōkiō until September 8th. Perfect courtesy was everywhere shown them, as they visited schools and factories, and studied Japan’s modern enginery of war and peace. The general attitude of the Tōkiō press and populace was that of condescending familiarity, of generous hospitality mildly flavored with contempt, and tempered by a very uncertain hope that these people might develop into good pupils—and customers.

Chō-sen did not lack attentions from the outside world—Russia, [[428]]England, France, Italy, and the United States—during the year 1880. Whether missionaries of the Holy Synod of Russia attempted to cross the Tumen, we do not know; but in the spring of 1880, a Muscovite vessel appeared off one of the ports of Ham-Kiung, to open commercial relations. The offer was politely declined. The Italian war-vessel Vettor Pisani, having on board H. R. H. the Duke of Genoa, arrived off Fusan, August 1, 1880, at 1 P.M.—a few hours after the Corean embassy had left for Japan. One survivor of the Italian ship, Bianca Portia, wrecked near Quelpart in 1879, had been kindly treated by the Corean authorities and sent to Nagasaki. The duke, through the Japanese consul, forwarded a letter of thanks to the governor of Tong-nai, who, however, returned the missive, though with a courteous answer. After seven days, the Vettor Pisani sailed northward, and avoiding Gensan and the Japanese consul, anchored off Port Lazareff, where, during his six days’ stay, he was visited by the local magistrate, to whom he committed a letter of application for trade. Some native cards of silk-worm’s eggs were also secured to test their value for Italy. After a three days’ visit to Gensan the ship sailed away, the Italian believing that negotiations with the Coreans would succeed better without Japanese aid, and congratulating himself upon having been more successful than the previous attempts by the British, and especially by the French (Captain Fourmier, of the Lynx) and American (Commodore Shufeldt) diplomatic agents, whose letters were returned unread.

The Government of the United States had not forgotten Corea, and Japan had signified her willingness to assist in opening the hermit nation to American commerce. On April 8, 1878, Senator Sargent, of California, offered a resolution that President Hayes “appoint a commissioner to represent this country in an effort to arrange, by peaceful means and with the aid of the friendly offices of Japan, a treaty of peace and commerce between the United States and the Kingdom of Corea.” The bill passed to a second reading, but, the Senate adjourning, no action was taken. In 1879, the U. S. steamship Ticonderoga, under Commodore R. W. Shufeldt, was sent on a cruise around the world in the interests of American commerce, and to make, if possible, a treaty with Corea. Entering the harbor of Fusan, May 14, 1880, Commodore Shufeldt begged the Japanese consul, who visited the ship, to forward his papers to Seoul. The consul complied, but, unfortunately, neither the interpreters nor the governor of Tong-nai—preferring present [[429]]pay and comfort to possible future benefit—would have anything to do with such dangerous business. Japanese rumor asserts that the Coreans seeing the letter addressed on the outside to “the King of Corea,” declined to receive it, partly because their sovereign was “not King of Korai” but “King of Chō-sen.” Under the circumstances, the American could do nothing more than withdraw, which he did amid the usual salute from a Corean fort near by. A second visit being equally fruitless, the Ticonderoga again turned her stern toward “the last outstanding and irreconcilable scoffer among nations at western alliances,” and her prow homeward.

The Corean embassy, failing in their attempts to have the Japanese go slowly, Hanabusa, the mikado’s envoy at Seoul, now vigorously urged the opening of the third port, and, after much discussion, In-chiŭn,[2] twenty-five miles from Seoul, was selected; in December, 1880, Hanabusa and his suite, crossing the frozen rivers, went thither, and selected the ground for the Japanese concession.

The old questions upon which political parties in the hermit nation had formed themselves, now sank out of sight, and the new element of excitement was the all-absorbing question of breaking the seals of national seclusion. The “Civilization Party,” or the Progressionists, were opposed to the Exclusionists, Port-closers, and Foreigner-haters. Heading the former or liberal party were the young king and queen, Bin Kenko, Bin Shoshoko, Ri Saiwo, and other high dignitaries, besides Kin Giokin and Jo Kohan, former envoys to Japan. The leader of the Conservatives was the Tai-wen-kun, father of the king and late regent. The neutrals clustered around Kin Koshiu.

Physically speaking, the Coreans see the sun rise over Japan and set over China, but morally, and in rhetoric, their sun of prosperity has ever risen and set in China. Some proposed to buy all machinery, arms, and government material in China, and imitate her plans and policy, and conform to the advice of her statesmen. The other side urged the adoption of Japanese methods and materials. The pro-Chinese gentry imitated the Peking mandarins in [[430]]details of dress, household decoration, and culture; while all their books conveying Western science must be read from Chinese translations. The pro-Japanese Coreans had their houses furnished with Japanese articles, they read and studied Japanese literature and translations of European books, and when out of Corea the most radical among them wore coats and pantaloons. The long and hot disputes between the adherents of both parties seriously hampered the government, while precipitating a revolution in the national policy; for serious debate in a despotic country is a sign of awakening life.

About this time, early in 1881, a remarkable document, composed by Kwo-in-ken, adviser to the Chinese Minister to Japan, had a lively effect upon the court of Seoul. It was entitled “Policy for Corea.” It described the neighbors of Chō-sen, and pointed out her proper attitude to each of them. From Russia, devoted as she is to a policy of perpetual aggrandizement at the expense of other countries, and consumed by lust for land, Corea is in imminent danger. China, on the contrary, is Corea’s natural ally and friend, ever ready with aid in men and money; both countries need each other, and their union should be as close as lips and teeth. For historical and geographical reasons, Corea and Japan should also be one in friendship, and thus guard against “Russia the ravenous.” The next point treated is the necessity of an alliance between Corea and the United States, because the Americans are the natural friends of Asiatic nations. Pointing out the many advantages of securing the friendship of the Americans, and making a treaty with them first, the memorialist urges the Coreans to seize the golden opportunity at once.

About the same time, Li Hung Chang, China’s liberal statesman, wrote a letter to a Corean gentleman, in which the advice to seek the friendship of China and the United States was strongly expressed, and a treaty with the Americans urged as a matter of national safety. Many, though not all, of the members of the embassies to Japan returned full of enthusiasm for Western civilization. It soon became evident that the king and many of his advisers were willing to make treaties. In Peking, the members of the embassy, before the winter of 1881 was over, began diplomatic flirtations with the American Legation. At that time, however, neither Minister J. B. Angell, in Peking, nor John A. Bingham, in Tōkiō, had any authority to make a treaty with Corea. While the way was thus made ready, the representations of Messrs. Bingham [[431]]and Angell to the State Department at Washington impressed upon our Government the necessity of having a diplomatic agent near at hand to take advantage of the next opportunity. Hitherto the only avenue of entrance seemed through the Japanese good offices; but the apparent willingness of Coreans in Peking, the experience of the Italians in the Vettor Pisani at Fusan and Port Lazareff, the advice of Chinese statesmen to Corea to have faith in the United States, and to open her ports to American commerce, convinced the American minister at Peking that China, rather than Japan, would furnish the better base of diplomatic operations for breaking down the Corean repulsive policy.