PART I
A NARRATIVE OF PERSONAL
EXPERIENCES
IN KOREA WITH MARQUIS ITO
PART I
CHAPTER I
THE INVITATION
IT was in early August of 1906 that I left New Haven for a third visit to Japan. Travelling by the way of the Great Lakes through Duluth and St. Paul, after a stay of two weeks in Seattle, we took the Japanese ship Aki Maru for Yokohama, where we arrived just before the port was closed for the night of September 20. Since this ship was making its first trip after being released from transport service in conveying the Japanese troops home from Manchuria, and was manned by officers who had personal experiences of the war to narrate, the voyage was one of uncommon interest. Captain Yagi had been in command of the transport ship Kinshu Maru when it was sunk by the Russians, off the northeastern coast of Korea. He had then been carried to Vladivostok, and subsequently to Russia, where he remained in prison until the end of the war. Among the various narratives to which I listened with interest were the two following; they are repeated here because they illustrate the code of honor whose spirit so generally pervaded the army and navy of Japan during their contest with their formidable enemy. It is in reliance on the triumph of this code that those who know the nation best are hopeful of its ability to overcome the difficulties which are being encountered in the effort to establish a condition favorable to safety, peace, and prosperity by a Japanese Protectorate over Korea.
At Vladivostok the American Consul pressed upon Captain Yagi a sum of money sufficient to provide a more suitable supply of food during his journey by rail to Russia. This kindly offer was respectfully declined on the sentimental ground that, as an officer of Japan, he could not honorably receive from a stranger a loan which it was altogether likely he would never be able to repay. But when still further urged, although he continued to decline the money, he begged only the Consul's card, "lest he might himself forget the name or die," and so his Government would be unable to acknowledge the kindness shown to one of its officers. The card was given, sent to Tokyo, and - as the Captain supposed - the Consul was "thanked officially." The first officer, an Englishman, who had been in the service of Japan on the Aki Maru, while it was used for transporting troops to Manchuria and prisoners on its return, told this equally significant story. His ship had brought to Japan as prisoner the Russian officer second in command at the battle of Nan-san. Having been wounded in the foot, the Russian was, after his capture, carried for a long distance by Japanese soldiers, to whom, when they reached the hospital tent, he offered a $20 gold-piece. But they all refused to receive money from a wounded foe. " If it had been Russian soldiers," said this officer of his own countrymen, "they would not only have taken this money but would have gone through my pockets besides."
Before leaving home only two official invitations had been received, namely, to lecture on Education before the teachers in the Tokyo branch of the Imperial Educational Society; and to give a course in the Imperial University of Kyoto, on a topic which it was afterward decided should be the "Philosophy of Religion." This university was to open in the following autumn a Department of Philosophy (such a forward movement having been delayed by the war with Russia). Almost immediately on our arrival, a multitude of requests for courses of lectures and public addresses came to the committee in charge of the arrangements, with the result that the six months from October 1, 1906, to April 1, 1907, were crowded full of interesting and enjoyable work. In the intervals of work, however, there was opportunity left for much valuable social intercourse and for meeting with men like Togo, Oyama, Noghi, and others in military and business, as well as educational circles, whose names and deeds are well known all over the civilized world. But it is not the narrative of these six months which is before us at the present time, although doubtless they had a somewhat important influence in securing the opportunity and providing the preparation for the subsequent visit to Korea.
The thought of seeing something of the "Hermit Kingdom" (a title, by the way, which is no longer appropriate) had been in our minds before leaving America, only as a somewhat remote possibility. Not long after our arrival in Japan the hint was several times given by an intimate friend, who is also in the confidence of Marquis Ito, that the latter intended, on his return in mid-winter from Seoul, to invite us to be his guests in his Korean residence. It was not, however, until the afternoon of December 5 that the invitation was first received. This was at the garden-party given by Marquis Nabeshima on his sixty-first birthday. It should be explained that every Japanese is born under one of the twelve signs corresponding to our signs of the Zodiac. When five of these periods have been completed the total of sixty years corresponds with the end of six periods of ten years each a reckoning which is, I believe, of Chinese origin. The fortunate man, therefore, may be said to begin life over again; and presents such as are ordinarily appropriate only to childhood are entirely in order on such a festal occasion. While walking in the beautiful garden, which is of Japanese style but much modified by Italian ideals, the private secretary of Marquis Ito, Mr. Furuya, came to us and announced that his chief, who had recently returned from Seoul to Japan, was near and wished to see me. After an exchange of friendly greetings almost immediately the Marquis said: "I am expecting to see you in my own land, which is now Korea"; and when I jestingly asked, "But is it safe to be in Korea?" (implying some fear of a Russian invasion under his protectorate) he shook his fist playfully in the air and answered: "But I will protect you." To this he added, pointing to his sword: "You see, I am half-military now." The significance of the last remark will be the better understood when it is remembered that from the days of his young manhood to the present hour, Ito has always stood for the peaceful policy and the cultivation of friendly relations between Japan and all the rest of the world. For this reason he has never been the favorite of the military party; and he is to-day opposed in his administration of Korean affairs by those who would apply to them the mailed hand of punishment and suppression rather than hold out the friendly but firm hand of guidance and help.
Even after this interview the real purpose of the invitation to visit Korea was not evident. A week later, however, it was disclosed by a visit from Mr. Yamada of the Japan Times, who came from Marquis Ito to present his request more fully and to arrange for a subsequent extended conference upon the subject. I was then informed, in a general way, how it was thought by the Resident-General I might be of help to him and to Japan in solving the difficult problem of furthering for the Koreans themselves the benefits which the existing relations of the two countries made it desirable for both to secure. Complaints of various sorts were constantly being made, not only against individual Japanese, but also against the Japanese administration, as unjust and oppressive to the Koreans, and as selfish and exclusive toward other foreigners than its own countrymen. Especially had such complaints of late been propagated by American missionaries, either directly by letters and newspaper articles, or more indirectly by tales told to travellers who, since they were only passing a few days in Korea, had neither desire nor opportunity to investigate their accuracy. In this way, exaggerations and falsehoods were spread abroad as freely as one-sided or half-truths. In the office of Resident-General the Marquis greatly desired to be absolutely just and fair, and to prevent the mistakes, so harmful both to Korea and to Japan, which followed the Japanese occupation of Korea at the close of the Chino-Japan war. But it was difficult, and in most cases impossible, for him even to find out what the complaints were; they came to the public ear in America and England before he was able to get any indication of their existence even. And when his attention was called to them in this roundabout fashion, further difficulties, almost insuperable, intervened- between him and the authors of these complaints; for in most cases it turned out that the foreign plaintiffs had no first-hand information regarding the truth of the Korean stories. They would not themselves take the pains to investigate the complaints, much less would they go to the trouble to bring the attention of the ResidentGeneral to the matters complained of in order that he might use his magisterial authority to remedy them. In respect to these, and certain other difficulties, Marquis Ito thought that I might assist his administration if I would spend some time upon the ground as his guest.
The nature of this invitation put upon me the responsibility of answering two questions which were by no means altogether easy of solution; and on which it was, from their very nature, impossible to get much trustworthy advice. The first of these concerned my own fitness for so delicate and difficult but altogether unaccustomed work. The second raised the doubt whether I could in this way be more useful to Japan and to humanity than by carrying out the original plan of spending the spring months lecturing in Kiushu. After consulting with the few friends to whom I could properly mention the subject, and reflecting that the judgment of His Imperial Majesty, with whom Marquis Itp would doubtless confer, as well as of the Resident-General himself, might fairly be considered conclusive, I accepted the invitation; but it was with mingled feelings of pleasure and of somewhat painful hesitation as to how I should be able to succeed.
The illness of Marquis Ito which, though not serious, compelled him to retire from the exciting life of the capital city to the seaside, and then to the hills, prevented my meeting him before I left Tokyo for Kyoto to fulfil my engagements in the latter city. But, by correspondence with a friend, I was kept informed of the Marquis' plans for his return to Korea, and thus could govern my engagements so as to be in the vicinity of some point on his route thither, at which the meeting with him might take place.
The expected conference followed immediately after our return from one of the most delightful of the many gratifying experiences which came to us during our year in Japan. We had taken a trip to the village of Hiro Mura, where formerly lived Hamaguchi Goryo, the benevolent patron of his village, whose act of self-sacrifice in burning his rice straw in order to guide the bewildered villagers to a place of safety when they were being overwhelmed by a tidal wave in the darkness of midnight, has been made the theme of one of Lafcadio Hearn's interesting tales. Mr. Hearn, it appears, had never visited the locality; and, indeed, we were assured that we were the first foreigners who had ever been seen in the village streets. A former pupil of mine is at the head of a flourishing school patronized by the Hamaguchi family; and having accepted his invitation, in the name of the entire region, to visit them and speak to the school and to the teachers of the Prefecture, the cordial greeting, hospitable entertainment, and the surpassingly beautiful scenery, afforded a rich reward for the three or four days of time required. For, as to the scenery, not the drive around the Bay of Naples or along the Bosphorus excels in natural beauty the jinrikisha ride that surmounts the cliffs, or clings to their sides, above the bay of Shimidzu ("Clear Water"); while for a certain picturesqueness of human interest it surpasses them both. On the way back to Wakayama——for Hiro Mura is more than twenty miles from the nearest railway station——three men to each jinrikisha, running with scarcely a pause and at a rate that would have gained credit for any horse as a fairly good roadster, brought us to the well-situated tea—house at Wakeno—ura. For centuries the most celebrated of Japanese poets have sung the praises of the scenery of this region——the boats with the women gathering seaweed at low tide, the fishermen in the offing, the storks standing on one leg in the water, or flying above the rushes of the salt marsh. Here we were met for tiffin by the Governor of the Prefecture and the mayor of the city, and immediately after escorted to the city hall of Wakayama, where an audience of some eight hundred, officials and teachers, had already assembled. While in the waiting room of this hall, a telegram from Mr. Yokoi was handed to me, announcing that Marquis Ito had already left Oiso and would reach Kyoto that very evening and arrange to see me the next day.
It was now necessary to change the plan of sight-seeing in the interesting castle-town of Wakayama for an immediate return to Kyoto. Thus we were taken directly from the Hall to the railway station and, on reaching Osaka, hurried across the city in time to catch an evening train; an hour later we found our boys waiting, with their jinrikishas, at the station in Kyoto. From the hotel in Kyoto I sent word at once to Marquis Ito of our arrival and placed myself at his command for the long-deferred interview. The messenger brought back an invitation for luncheon at one o'clock of the next day.
When we reached the "Kyoto Hotel," at the time appointed we were ushered into the room where Marquis Ito, his aide-de-camp, General Murata, his attending physician, his secretary, and four guests besides ourselves, were already gathered. After leaving the luncheon table, we had scarcely entered the parlor when the Marquis' secretary said: "The Marquis would like to see you in his room." I followed to the private parlor, from which the two servants, who were laughing and chatting before the open fire, were dismissed by a wave of the hand, and pointing me to a chair and seating himself, the Marquis began immediately upon the matters for conference about which the interview had been arranged.
His Excellency spoke very slowly but with great distinctness and earnestness; this is, indeed, his habitual manner of speech whether using English or his native language. The manner of speech is characteristic of the mental habit, and the established principles of action. In the very first place he wished it to be made clear that he had no detailed directions, or even suggestions, to offer. I was to feel quite independent as to my plans and movements in co-operating with him to raise out of their present, and indeed historical, low condition the unfortunate Koreans. In all matters affecting the home policy of his government as Resident-General, he was now a Korean himself; he was primarily interested in the welfare, educationally and economically, of these thirteen or fourteen millions of wretched people who had been so long and so badly misgoverned. In their wish to remain independent he sympathized with them. The wish was natural and proper; indeed, one would be compelled to think less highly of them, if they did not have and show this wish. As to foreign relations, and as to those Koreans who were plotting with foreigners against the Japanese, his attitude was of necessity entirely different. He was against these selfish intrigues; he was pledged to this attitude of opposition by loyalty to his own Emperor, to his own country, and, indeed, to the best good fortune for Korea itself. Japan was henceforth bound to protect herself and the Koreans against the evil influence and domination of foreign nations who cared only to exploit the country in their own selfish interests or to the injury of the Japanese. When his own countrymen took part in such selfish schemes, he was against them, too.
Again and again did the Resident-General affirm that the helping of Korea was on his conscience and on his heart; that he cared nothing for criticism or opposition, if only he could bring about this desirable result of good to the Koreans themselves. He then went on to say that diplomatic negotiations between Japan and both Russia and France were so far advanced that a virtual entente cordiale had already been reached. Treaties, formally concluded, would soon, he hoped and believed, secure definite terms for the continuance of peaceful relations. Japan had already received from Russia proposals for such a permanent arrangement; the reply of Japan was so near a rapprochement to the proposals of Russia as to encourage the judgment that actual agreement on the terms of a treaty could not be far away. The situation, indeed, was now such that Russia had invited Japan to make counter proposals. The present Foreign Minister of Russia the Marquis regarded as one of his most trusted friends; the Russian Minister was ready, in the name of the Czar, to affirm his Government's willingness to abandon the aggressive policy toward Korea and Manchuria, in case Japan would, on her part, pledge herself to be content with her present possessions. The status quo was, then, to be the basis of the new treaties. Great Britain, as Japan's ally, was not only ready for this, but was approaching Russia with a view to a settlement of the questions in controversy between the two nations, in regard to Persia, Afghanistan, and elsewhere, where they had common interests. France would, as a nation on good terms with both Great Britain and Russia, and as herself the friend of peace, gladly agree. He was, then, hopeful that in the near future a permanent basis of peace for the whole Orient might be secured by concurrence of the four great nations most immediately interested.
To these disclosures of his plans and hopes, so frankly and fully made as to excite my surprise, Marquis Ito then added the wish that I should at this time, or subsequently while on the ground, ask of him any questions whatever, information on which might guide in forming a correct judgment as to the situation there, or assist in the effort toward the improvement educationally, industrially, or morally, of the Koreans themselves. In reply I expressed my satisfaction at the confidences which His Excellency had given me, and my hearty sympathy with his plans for the peaceful development of Korea. Nothing, it seemed to me, could be more important in the interests of humanity than to have the strife of foreign nations for a selfish supremacy in the Far East come to a speedy end. But the perfect freedom of inquiry and action allowed to me was in some sort an embarrassment. It would have been easier to have had a definite work assigned, and a definite method prescribed. However, I should do the best that my inexperience in such matters made possible, in order to justify his favorable judgment.
It was my intention at first to prepare for the work in Korea by much reading of books. But the professional and social demands made upon both time and strength, to the very last hour of our stay in Japan, prevented the carrying out of this intention. When, later on, it became possible to read what had previously been published, I discovered that the deprivation was no hindrance, but perhaps a positive advantage, to the end of success in my task. | A story of recent experiences of Korean intrigue which had already been reported to me in detail was of more practical value than the reading of many learned treatises. The story was as follows : Among the several representatives of American Christian and benevolent enterprises who have recently visited that country, for the size of his audiences and the warmth of his greeting, one had been particularly distinguished. At his first public address, some four thousand persons, men and boys (for the Korean women are never seen at such gatherings) had attempted to crowd into "Independence Hall." Of these, however, nine-tenths came with the vague feeling that it is somehow for the political interest of Koreans to seem friendly to citizens of foreign Christian countries especially of the United States in order to secure help for themselves in an appeal to interfere with the Japanese administration. In this case the speaker was at first supposed to have great political influence. But the audience, seeing that the subjects of address were religious rather than political, fell off greatly on the second occasion. Meanwhile, some of the Korean officials, in order to win credit for themselves for procuring the audience, had falsely reported that the Korean Emperor wished to see this distinguished representative from America. But when they learned that application for the audience had been duly made, through the proper Japanese official, they came around again and, with many salaams and circuitous approaches, expressed the regrets of His Majesty that, being indisposed, he was unable to grant the audience which had been applied for. At the very time of this second falsehood, the proper official was in the act of making out the permit to enter the palace. The audience came off. And while the American guest was in the waiting-room, the Minister of the Household, watching his chance to escape observation, with his hand upon his heart, appealed to the distinguished American for his nation's sympathy against the oppression of the Japanese. During the two months of my own experience with the ways of the Koreans, all this, and much more of the same sort, was abundantly and frequently illustrated. And, indeed, no small portion of the recent movement toward Christianity is more a political than a religious affair. But of this I shall speak in detail later on.
It was the understanding with Marquis Ito at the interview in Kyoto that he should have me informed at Nagasaki, at some time between March 2oth and 24th, when he desired us to come to Seoul; and that arrangements should then be made for meeting our Japanese escort at Shimonoseki. On returning to the hotel parlor the Marquis apologized to Mrs. Ladd for keeping her husband away so long, and remarked, playfully, that the diplomatic part of the conference was not to be communicated even to her, until its expectations had become matters of history.
Three days later we started for Nagasaki, where I was to spend somewhat more than a week lecturing to the teachers of the Prefecture, and to the pupils of the Higher Commercial School. As we crossed the straits to Moji, the sun rose gloriously over the mountains and set the sea, the shore, and the ships in the two harbors aglow with its vitalizing fire. The police officer assigned to guard his country's guests, pointed out to us the battleship waiting to take the Resident-General to his difficult and unappreciated work in Korea; and nearer the other side of the channel we noted with pleasure the Aki Maru, on which six months before we had crossed the Northern Pacific.
It had been in my plans, even before reaching Japan, to spend a month or two in Kiushu, a part of the Empire which is in some respects most interesting, and which I had never visited before. And, indeed, in reliance on a telegram from Tokyo which read: "Fix your own date, telegraph Zumoto" (the gentleman who was to accompany us from Shimonoseki), "Seoul," arrangements had already been completed for lectures at Fukuoka, and had been begun for a short course also at Kumamoto. But the very next day after these instructions had been followed, a telegram came from Mr. Zumoto himself, who was already waiting at Shimonoseki to accompany us to Seoul, inquiring when we could start, and adding that "the Marquis hoped it would be at once." All engagements besides the one at Nagasaki were therefore promptly cancelled. On the evening of March 24th, Mr. Akai, who had been our kindly escort in behalf of the friends at Nagasaki, put us into the hands of our escort to Korea, at the station in Moji.
Since the steamer for Fusan did not start until the following evening, we had the daylight hours to renew our acquaintance with Shimonoseki. The historical connections which this region has had with our distinguished host made the time here all the more vividly interesting. At this place, as an obscure young man, Ito had risked his life in the interests of progress by way of peace; and here, too, as the Commissioner of his Emperor, the now celebrated Marquis had concluded the treaty with China through her Commissioner, Li Hung Chang. But what need be said about the story of these enterprises belongs more properly with the biography of the man. At about 8.30 o'clock in the evening of March 25th the harbor launch, with the chief of the harbor police in charge, conveyed the party to the ship Iki Maru. The evening was lovely; bright moonlight, mild breeze, and moderate temperature. After tea, at about eleven, we "turned in" to pass a comfortable night in a well-warmed and well-ventilated cabin.
I have dwelt with what might otherwise seem unnecessary detail upon my invitation to Korea, because it throws needed light upon the nature and opportunity of this visit, as well as upon the character of the man who gave the invitation, and of the administration of which he is the guiding mind and the inspiring spirit. I was to be entirely independent, absolutely free from all orders or even suggestions, to form an opinion as to the sincerity and wisdom of the present Japanese administration, as to the character and needs of the Korean public, and as to the Korean Court. The fullest confidential information on all points was to be freely put at my disposal; but the purpose of the visit was to be in full accord with that of the Residency-General—namely, to help the Koreans, and to convince all reasonable foreigners of the intention to deal justly with them. Suggestions as to any possible improvements were earnestly requested. For I hesitate to say that His Excellency, with a sincerity which could not be doubted, asked that I should advise him whenever I thought best. So far as this understanding properly extends, the unmerited title of "Unofficial Adviser to the Resident-General," bestowed by some of the foreign and native papers, was not wholly misplaced. But the term is more creditable to the sincerity of Marquis Ito than to my own fitness for any such title. "Adviser," in any strictly official or political meaning of the term, is a word altogether inappropriate to describe our relations at any time.