The Japanese, by their own account, had suspected no danger until the day of the riot, when they noticed great excitement among the people, and that crowds were assembling and rushing to and fro. They sent out a policeman to inquire into the nature of the disturbance, and at two o’clock P.M. they learned from a native that the mob would attack the legation. Word was also sent to the Japanese by the Corean officer in charge of the drill-ground where the troops were trained by Lieutenant Horimoto, saying that the troops drilled in Japanese tactics had been attacked, and the legation would next be in danger. Hanabusa and his suite then arranged a plan of defence. While thus engaged, a Corean employed at the legation informed them that the mob had destroyed the houses of the two ministers Bin, and were attacking three Japanese students. Three policemen well armed then left to succor the students, but nothing was heard from either policemen or students again. A Corean officer now appeared and warned the Japanese to escape to the hill back of the legation; and being requested by Hanabusa to ask the government for soldiers, he left on this errand. At 5.50 P.M. the mob reached the legation, and raising a united yell, fired volleys of bullets, arrows, and big stones at the legation, but dared not enter the gate to face the revolvers of the policemen. In hurling stones the ruffians showed remarkable skill. The mob set on fire a house, near by, and in the rising wind—then boding a coming storm—two out-houses of the legation were burned, the police shooting down the incendiaries when they could see them. It was now [[439]]about ten o’clock, and the ruffians having thrown up barricades to hem in their victims and to shield their cowardly carcases while shooting, the Japanese fired the remaining buildings, and armed only with swords and pistols, formed themselves into a circle, charged the mob, and cut their way through to the house of the chief magistrate, which they found empty. Finding no one in the official residence, they marched to the southern gate of the royal castle. Instead of opening it, the soldiers on the wall above pelted them with stones.
Hanabusa now resolved to cross the river with his party and make his way to In-chiŭn. Turning their backs on the flames, they arrived at the river and, on the ferryman refusing to convey them across, they seized the boat and crossed safely to the other side. It was now past midnight and the rain began to fall heavily, and with occasional thunderstorms continued to pour down all night. The refugees plunged on through the darkness, often losing their way, but next day at ten o’clock, they procured some raw barley to eat, and through the pelting rain pushed on, reaching In-chiŭn at 3 P.M. The governor received them kindly and supplied food and dry clothing. The Japanese officers slept in the official residence, and the servants, police, and others in a guard-house about fifteen yards distant. The governor posted his own sentinels to watch so that the Japanese could get some rest. In a few minutes the tired men were sleeping the sleep of exhaustion.
About five o’clock, Hanabusa and his officers were suddenly awakened by the shouting of a mob outside; and in a moment more a Japanese entered covered with blood, and with a drawn sword in his hand with which he had cut his way. The mob had attacked them while they were asleep, and the soldiers of the local garrison were joining the rioters, firing from behind fences. All the Japanese now hurried on their clothes, and charging a body of about forty soldiers, armed with swords and spears, who were blocking the gateway, made for Chi-mul-po seaport, having lost three killed and two missing.
Meeting two Japanese on horseback from the port, who reported that the road was free from ambuscades, they put the wounded man on one horse, and by another despatched one of their number to hasten forward and have a boat ready. They reached Chi-mul-po, the port, about seven o’clock, and immediately crossed over to Roze Island for safety. About midnight, having procured a junk, they put to sea, toward Nanyo Bay, where they knew the British gunboat [[440]]Flying Fish was then on survey. Encountering a southerly wind, they made little or no progress, and on the 26th a dense fog set in; but at 11.30 A.M., it cleared up and the welcome sight of a three-masted vessel greeted their eyes. Hoisting the flag of Japan, they saw their signal answered, and soon the party of twenty-six half-naked, hungry, and cold refugees were on board the ship, where kindest treatment awaited them. That night at ten o’clock the Flying Fish sailed for Nagasaki. On August 3d a religious service in memory of their slain comrades was held by the survivors, at Shimonoséki. “The deep silence was only broken by the sobbing of the audience, overcome by deep sympathy for the murdered men.” On the 8th Hanabusa had an audience with the mikado in Tōkiō.
Without hesitation, the Japanese government ordered the army to assemble at Shimonoséki and Tsushima, with naval forces to co-operate. Hanabusa and his suite were sent back, escorted by a military force. He re-entered Seoul, August 16th, and was received with courtesy. A fleet of Chinese war-vessels with a force of four thousand troops was also at hand. Apparently everything was under the control of Tai-wen Kun, who professed to be friendly to foreigners, and to ascribe the recent riot to a sudden uprising of the unpaid soldiery, which the government had not force at hand to suppress. Two Corean officers coming on board the Flying Fish, August 10th, informed Captain Hoskyn that the soldiery, dissatisfied with the unfair treatment of their superiors, had incited the peasantry to rebellion; that by orders of Tai-wen Kun, who bitterly regretted the recent outrages, the dead Japanese had been honorably buried; that the old regent while usurping the royal power, had professed a total change of views and was in favor of a progressive policy.
At his audience with the king, August 20th, Hanabusa presented the demands of his government. These were nominally agreed to, but several days passing without satisfactory action, Hanabusa having exhausted remonstrance and argument, left Seoul August 25th and returned to his ship. This unexpected move—a menace of war—brought the usurper to terms. On receipt of Tai-wen Kun’s apologies, the Japanese envoy returned to the capital August 30th and full agreement was given to the demands of Japan, at which time it would appear, Tai-wen Kun, forcibly kidnapped by the envoy of China, had begun his travels into the country of Confucius. [[441]]
The following telegram to the New York Tribune of October 2d, summarizes the news from Yokohama up to September 13th:
The Corean Government pledged itself to the following conditions: To arrest the insurgents within twenty days and inflict due punishment upon them, Japanese delegates to be present at the trial; to bury properly the bodies of those murdered and pay 50,000 yen (dollars) to their families; to pay Japan 500,000 yen as indemnity for expenditure, etc., in five yearly instalments; to allow Japanese troops in Seoul for the protection of the legation, and to provide proper accommodations for them; to send an apology by a special embassy to Japan; to extend gradually privileges to the Japanese residents and traders; to afford proper conveniences for travel throughout Corea for the Japanese Government officials.
While this was going on the Chinese envoy, who had remained inactive with his escort until August 25th, suddenly called up the full body of his troops, about three or four thousand, to the capital. What degree of pressure he may have exercised is not yet known, but it is certain that the chief rebel and assassin, the Tai-wen Kun, was taken on board a Chinese ship and carried to Tien-tsin. It is alleged that his departure was by no means voluntary, and that some physical effort was required to get him ashore on arriving at his destination. Whatever was the object of this proceeding, it must have been dictated by Li Hung Chang, the Chinese Viceroy at Tien-tsin, who seems to have quite abandoned his demeanor of calm stolidity during these active Corean transactions. It is declared by one Chinese party that the only purpose was to rescue the Tai-wen Kun from the dangers that threatened him, and by another that the intent was still to maintain the theory of sovereign control over Corea’s rulers, which Li Hung Chang has been straining for throughout.
During the recent prospect of trouble with Corea, the Japanese Government received offers of military service from twenty thousand volunteers, and of money gifts to the value of 200,000 yen.
At this stage of affairs, when Corea ceases to be a “hermit nation,” and stands in the glare of the world’s attention, we bring our imperfect story to a close. The pivot of the future history of Eastern Asia is Corea. On her soil will be decided the problem of supremacy, by the jealous rivals China, Japan, and Russia. The sudden assumption of self-imposed tutelary duties by China proves her lively interest in the little country, which has been called both “her right arm of defense,” and “her gloved hand”—the one to force back the ravenous Muscovite, the other to warn off the ambitious Japanese. Whether the Middle Kingdom has deliberately chosen the Land of Morning Calm to affront and humiliate “the neighbor-disturbing nation,” that twice humbled her pride in the fairest islands of the sea—Formosa and Riu Kiu—the events of the not distant future will soon determine. Whether the hoary empire [[442]]shall come in collision with the young northern giant, and the dragon and the bear tear each other in the slime of war in Corean valleys, may be a question the solution of which is not far off. We trust that amid all dangers, the integrity of the little kingdom may be preserved; but whatever be the issue upon the map of the world, let us hope that paganism, bigotry, and superstition in Corea, and in all Asia, may disappear; and that in their places, the religion of Jesus, science, education, and human brotherhood may find an abiding dwelling-place. [[443]]