The Coreans proved themselves especially good bowmen, but inexpert at other weapons, their swords being of iron only, short, clumsy, and easily bent. Their spears, or rather pikes, were shorter than the Japanese, with heavy blades, from the base of which hung tassels. The iron heads were hollow at the base, forming a socket, in which the staff fitted. The Japanese spearheads, on the contrary, were riveted down and into the wood, which was iron-banded for further security, making a weapon less likely to get out of order, while the blades were steel-edged. The Corean cavalry had heavy, three-pronged spears, which were extremely [[101]]formidable to look at, but being so heavy as to be unwieldly at close quarters, they did little execution. Many of their suits of armor were handsomely inlaid, made of iron and leather, but less flexible and more vulnerable than those of the Japanese, which were of interlaced silk and steel on a background of tough buckskin, with sleeves of chain mail. The foot soldiers on either side were incased in a combination of iron chain and plate armor, [[102]]but the Coreans had no glaves, or cross-blades on their pikes, and thus were nearly helpless against their enemy’s cavalry. The Japanese were smooth-shaven, and wore stout helmets, with ear-guards and visors, but the Coreans, with open helmets, without visors, and whiskered faces, were dubbed “hairy barbarians.” They were beginning to learn the use of powder, which, however, was so badly mixed as to be exasperatingly slow in burning. Their very few firearms were of the rudest and most cumbrous sort. They used on their ramparts a kind of wooden cannon, made of bamboo-hooped timber, from which they shot heavy wooden darts, three feet long, pointed with sharp-bladed, Y-shaped iron heads. The range of these clumsy missiles was very short. The Japanese, on the contrary, had at several sieges pieces of light brass ordnance, with which they quickly cleared the walls of the castles, and then scaled them with long and light ladders, made of bamboo, and easily borne by men on a run. The Japanese were not only better equipped, but their tactics were superior. Their firearms frightened the Corean horses, and the long spears and halberds of their cavalry were used with fearful effect while pursuing the fugitives, who were pierced or pulled off their steeds, or sabred in droves. Few bodies of native troops faced the invaders in the field, while fire-arrows, gunpowder, and ladders quickly reduced the castles. Not a few of the Corean officers were killed inside their fortresses by the long range fire of the sharp-shooters in the matchlock corps.
The greater share of glory fell to Konishi, the younger man. Taking the southern route, he reached the castle of Shang-chiu, in the northwestern part of Kiung-sang, and captured it. Leaving a garrison, he pushed on to Chiun-chiu. This fortress of Chiun-chiu is situated in the northeastern part of Chung-chong province, and on the most northerly of the two roads, over which Kato was then marching. It was at that time considered to be the strongest castle in the peninsula. On it rested the fate of the capital. It lay near one of the branches of the Han River, which flows past Seoul. At this point the two high roads to the capital, on which the two rivals were moving, converged so as to nearly touch. Chiun-chiu castle lay properly on Kato’s route, but Konishi, being in the advance, invested it with his forces and, after a few days’ siege, captured the great stronghold. The loss of the Coreans thus far in the three fortresses seized by Konishi, as reported by Friar Frois, was 5,000 men, 3,000 of whom fell at Chiun-chiu; while the [[103]]Japanese had lost but 100 killed and 400 wounded. After such a victory, “Konishi determined to conquer all Corea by himself.”
Kato and his army, arriving a few days after the victory, again saw themselves outstripped. Konishi’s pennons floated from every tower, and the booty was already disposed of. The goal of both armies was now “the Miaco of the kingly city of Coray.” Straining every nerve, Kato pressed forward so rapidly that the two divisions of the Japanese army entered Seoul by different gates on the same day. No resistance was offered, as the king, court, and army had evacuated the city three days before. The brilliant pageant of the Japanese army, in magnificent array of gay silk and glittering armor, was lost on the empty streets of deserted Seoul.
When Taikō heard of the success of his lieutenants in Corea, especially of Konishi’s exploits, he was filled with joy, and cried out, “Now my own son seems risen from the dead.” [[104]]
CHAPTER XIV.
THE CAMPAIGN IN THE NORTH.
The court at Seoul had been too much paralyzed by the sudden invasion to think of or carry out any effective means of resistance. Konishi had sent letters from Fusan and Shang-chiu, but these, through official faithlessness and the accidents of war, had failed in their purpose. Konishi was too fast for them. When the news reached Seoul, of the fall of Chiun-chiu castle, the whole populace, from palace to hut, was seized with a panic which, in a few hours, emptied the city. The soldiers deserted their post, and the courtiers their king, while the people fled to the mountains. His Majesty resolved to go with his court into Liao Tung, but to send the royal princes into the northern provinces, that the people might realize the true state of affairs. So hurried were the preparations for flight, which began June 9th, that no food was provided for the journey. The only horses to be obtained were farm and pack animals, as the royal stables had been emptied by the runaway soldiers. The rain fell heavily, in perpendicular streams, soon turning the roads to mire, and drenching the women and children. The Corean dress, in wet weather, is cold and uncomfortable, and when soaked through, becomes extremely heavy, making a foot journey a severe tax on the strength. To add to the distress of the king, as the cortege passed, the people along the road clamored, with bitter tears, that they were being abandoned to the enemy. Tortured with hunger and fatigue, the wretched party floundered on.
Their first day’s journey was to Sunto, or Kai Seng, thirty miles distant. Darkness fell upon them long before they reached the Rin-yin River, a tributary of the Han, which joins it a few miles above Kang-wa Island. The city lay beyond it, and the crossing of the stream was done in the light of the conflagration kindled behind them. The king had ordered the torch to be applied to the barracks and fortifications which guarded the southern bank [[105]]of the river. Another motive for this incendiary act was to deprive their pursuers of ready materials to ferry themselves across the river. It was not until near midnight that the miserable fugitives, tortured with hunger and almost dead with fatigue, entered the city. Though feeling safe for the moment, since the Japanese pursuers could not cross the river without boats or rafts, most of the king’s household were doomed still to suffer the pangs of hunger. The soldiers had stolen the food provided for the party, and the king had a scant supper, while his household remained hungry until the next day, when some of the military gave them a little rice. The march was resumed on the following morning and kept up until Ping-an was reached. Here they halted to await the progress of events.
The king ordered his scattered forces to rally at the Rin-yin River, and, on its northern bank, to make a determined stand.