A telegram from The Hague to the Orient, bearing date of July 1, 1907, announced the arrival of three Koreans at the place of Peace Conference, and the publication over their signatures, in a French paper called The Peace Conference Times, of an open letter addressed to the delegates of all the Powers. In their letter these men claimed to have been authorized by the Emperor, in a document bearing his seal, to take part in the Conference as the delegates of Korea. In this connection they repeated the time-worn falsehoods as to the conditions under which the Treaty of November, 1905, was signed, and as to the present treatment accorded by the Japanese to the ruler and people of Korea. In view of these alleged facts they made in behalf of their country an appeal for pity and for relief to all the foreign delegates. As was inevitable from the beginning, the efforts of this deputation at The Hague came to naught; and after the death of one of their number they departed to carry on their mission of appeal, first in England and afterward in the United States. So thoroughly discredited, however, had the word of such Koreans and of their “foreign friends” already become in the hearing of all acquainted with the facts, that the mission met with as little real success in these other foreign countries as at The Hague. So far as its original purpose was concerned, it ended in failure—miserable and complete. But in Korea itself the results were by no means transient or trivial.

The news of the appearance of the so-called Korean delegates at the World’s Peace Conference was received in Seoul on July 3d. It will be remembered (see p. 83 f.) that—to quote from the Seoul Press of the next day—“when Mr. H. B. Hulbert left for Europe under peculiar circumstances, there were rumors that he was charged by the Emperor of Korea with some political mission to The Hague.” This paper then goes on to say that it did not attach much importance to the rumor at the time, being unable to reconcile such an enterprise with the reputation for shrewdness of the chief foreign commissioner, and also “with the expressions of good will and friendship which the Emperor of Korea has repeated to Japan and her Representative over and over again.” But there were even more important reasons why the rumor should seem antecedently incredible. No one of the present Cabinet, or of the previously existing Cabinet, appeared to have any knowledge of so serious an affair of State; no one of either of these bodies had even been consulted by His Majesty about the possibility of such an undertaking. “Even the best informed did not dream that a step so palpably useless and treacherous would be taken.” The conclusion followed that, if the rumor proved true, the act was ascribable to the Emperor alone, as “instigated no doubt by the coterie of irresponsible native counsellors and their obscure foreign coadjutors whose mischievous advice has already so often led His Majesty astray.” Such a movement was rendered all the more untimely, not to say unnecessary, because under the new Ministry and the wise and kindly leadership of the Residency-General, all the foreign and domestic affairs of the country were now proceeding in the most orderly and satisfactory manner. Whatever ground for protest and appeal against the treatment of Korea by the Japanese Government may have existed in the past, everything in the situation of the spring and early summer of 1907 called for hopeful and active co-operation on the part of all forces interested in the welfare of the land. The stirring of the elements always ready for riot, sedition, arson, and bloodshed, was, under the circumstances, both a folly and a crime.

On the morning of the same day on which the news of the affair at The Hague reached Seoul, the Emperor sent the Minister of the Imperial Household to Marquis Ito with a message disavowing all responsibility for the delegation and for the protest addressed by it to the Peace Conference. This was precisely what the delegation had already informed all Europe His Korean Majesty would certainly do. But then there was their word against the Emperor’s word; and they claimed that the document in their possession bore the Imperial seal. There was, moreover, for the very few who knew the circumstances under which the alleged foreign member of the delegation left Seoul, the previous private confession of His Majesty made—to be sure—only after repeated private denials. The situation was, therefore, so far as the testimony of Koreans went, rather complex. His Majesty was now publicly denying what he had formerly, in private, both affirmed and denied; his delegates were publicly affirming what he was publicly denying, but had previously, in private, both denied and affirmed. To the Minister of the Imperial Household Marquis Ito replied that, in view of all the circumstances which had come to his knowledge—not the least significant of which was the public declaration of the Imperial sanction, made by the delegation and supported by its offer to submit its credentials to the inspection of the Conference—the force of His Majesty’s disavowal was weakened. At any rate, the situation had now become so grave that the only course the Resident-General could pursue was to submit the whole matter to his own Government and await its decision.[100]

The news from The Hague at once provoked a lively discussion on the part of the Japanese press and the political parties as to the proper treatment of Korea and her Emperor for this breach of treaty faith. Meetings were held by the leaders of the principal parties to determine the policy which should, in their judgment, be followed by the Government; and several of the more prominent statesmen allowed themselves to be interviewed for publication of their views upon this important national affair. Count Okuma was reported as having suggested that His Majesty of Korea, in case he had authorized a scheme so lacking in common sense, could not be in his right mind, and might, not improperly, be placed under restraint. Count Inouye, whose successful management of Korean affairs at the close of the Chino-Japan war entitled his judgment to public confidence, thought that if the Emperor could be induced, or compelled, to come to Japan and see for himself what Japan had done by way of recent developments, and what Japan wished to do for Korea, he would voluntarily cease from his unfriendly and treacherous policy.[101] Of the political bodies, the Constitutionalists, or party now in control of the Government, took the entire matter most quietly, and expressed itself as entirely ready to leave the whole situation in the hands of the Resident-General, as advised or instructed by the Tokyo authorities. Prime Minister Saionji, to whose cool judgment and quiet temper the nation is greatly indebted at all times for allaying tendencies to undue excitement, assured the Daido delegates, on July 12th, that the policy toward Korea had already been established and that there was really no need of making “much fuss” over the matter. The Progressives, or strongest anti-Government party, took the most vehement position of urgency for prompt action and for punitive measures. Some of its papers went so far as again to call in question the entire policy of Marquis Ito, with its plan for securing a peaceful development of Korea under a Japanese Protectorate; but only a few called for immediate forcible annexation.

On the whole, and considering the great and repeated provocations offered to Japan by the Korean Emperor and his Government, the Japanese nation kept its temper in a truly admirable way. While agreeing that some means must at last be found to stop the interference of His Majesty of Korea with all attempts to reform internal affairs, and the better in the future to control foreign intrigues, the general opinion favored strongly an increased confidence in the character and policy of the existing Residency-General. The situation in Japan itself was faithfully described as follows in the Japan Times, in its issue of July 14th:

The Tokyo Government acted with promptness and decision in dealing with this latest phase of the everlasting Korean problem. On July 16th it was publicly announced that the Government had determined to “go along with the opinion of the people,” and adopt “a strong line of action toward Korea.” Viscount Hayashi, Minister for Foreign Affairs, was forthwith appointed to convey in person the views of the Government to His Excellency Marquis Ito, and was commissioned with the disposal of Korean affairs after consultation with the Marquis on the spot. Hayashi bore with him several somewhat different plans, among which decision was to be reached after his arrival at Seoul; but all of them contemplated leaving the details very largely to the Resident-General. It is pertinent to say, with authority, in this connection, that none of these plans included, much less suggested or required, the abdication of the Emperor; although, as we have already seen, Marquis Ito had become quite conclusively convinced that the reform of Korean affairs could never be accomplished with the co-operation of the present ruler of the land, or, indeed, otherwise than in spite of his utmost opposition.

Meantime there was a great stir taking place among the members of the different political factions in Seoul. The Emperor himself, now that his own foolish treachery had been brought to light, was daily becoming more alarmed. The Court intriguers of necessity shared in this growing alarm. Before the departure of Viscount Hayashi, the Imperial Government of Japan had received a telegram from Mr. Motono, Minister in St. Petersburg, which stated that the new Russo-Japanese Convention would recognize Japan’s rights in Korea even more completely than the Peace of Portsmouth had done. The fact, now made evident to the Korean officials, that the backs of all the nations were turned toward the verbal and practical falsehoods of their Emperor and of his intriguing foreign friends, and that the judgment of all those wise in respect of Korean history and Korean characteristics saw no hope for their country except through the aid of Japan, tended as a matter of course to deepen this alarm. And when the determination of the Japanese Government to send one of its Cabinet Ministers to Korea, in order at once and finally to put an end to Korea’s power, in treachery, intrigue, and assassination, to work her own woe and to jeopard the peace of the Far East, was made known, the consternation in Seoul officialdom reached its height.

The only persons among the Koreans who could be relied upon in any measure to save the country from well-merited punishment for this last act of insane treachery on the part of the Emperor and his Court were the newly appointed Korean Cabinet. It was a great piece of good fortune for Korea that this Cabinet had previously been appointed and pledged to fidelity to the interests of the whole country rather than to connivance at His Majesty’s intriguing ways. On the whole, in this extreme emergency, the Korean Government behaved wisely, patriotically, and in a way to secure the crown and the people against the worst results of the Emperor’s policy. They began their efforts, indeed, in the vain attempt to discover the plans of the Japanese Government through the Resident-General and to get His Excellency’s advice upon the best course of action on their part in order to meet these plans. But Marquis Ito refrained alike from indicating the steps which would probably be taken by Japan and also from advising as to the steps which it was best for Korea to take.

The Korean Ministers were by this time holding daily conferences of several hours in length. The result of these conferences was the conclusion on their part that the abdication of the Emperor offered the only escape from the direful condition in which he had himself placed his country. As early, therefore, as an audience on the 6th of July, they began collectively and individually to urge upon His Majesty the advisability of this step. There is no doubt that they gave this advice the more heartily because, apart from the present dilemma, they were profoundly convinced that he was a bad and dangerous ruler, and that comparatively little could be done for the improvement of Korean affairs as long as he sat upon the throne of Korea. The occasion was opportune, then, for terminating such weak misrule and perversion of Imperial power.

Viscount Hayashi arrived at Seoul on the evening of July 18th. In the afternoon of the same day Marquis Ito visited the Palace at the request of the Korean Emperor. He found that His Majesty had no suggestions to make as to the solution of the grave problem before the two governments: His Majesty continued, however, to disavow the Hague delegation and to suggest the severe punishment of its members.[102] The more important reason for the request for this interview appeared when the Emperor stated that his Cabinet were urging him to abdicate and suggested that he supposed they were prompted to do so by Marquis Ito. This the Marquis emphatically denied: so far as the Resident-General was concerned, the Korean Cabinet were in all respects acting on their own initiative. His Excellency was himself still awaiting the decision of his own Government at Tokyo; and until that was announced he had nothing to say as to what Japan was likely to do. Moreover, since he was not a subject of the Emperor of Korea he should refrain from advising His Majesty in any way about the matter of his abdication.[103]

Meantime the Korean Cabinet continued to press upon the Emperor the necessity of his abdication in the interests of the country at large. On Wednesday, July 17th, they proceeded in a body to the Palace, where His Majesty is said to have kept them waiting for their audience with him for nearly three hours. At this audience, however, they again explained the nature of the present crisis, and again besought him to save his country by sacrificing the crown for himself. After a prolonged interview they are said to have left the Emperor much enraged and still refusing. But on the next day the Cabinet Ministers repaired again to the Palace at a quarter to five in the afternoon. Before this meeting could be over the train bearing the Viscount Hayashi would roll into the South-Gate Station. The whole affair was culminating; the national crisis was imminent. For more than three hours the Ministers pressed for their Sovereign’s abdication, with a most bold and insistent attitude. It was after eleven o’clock that evening when the Emperor began to show signs of giving way, and ordered summons to be issued to assemble the Elder Statesmen. These men soon arrived at the Palace and held a secret conference among themselves, during which they, too, arrived at the decision that there was really no alternative for the Emperor; he should yield to the advice of his Ministers; and the throne was at once memorialized to this effect. At three o’clock on the morning of the nineteenth the Emperor agreed to retire in favor of the Crown Prince, and a decree announcing this fact was published in the Official Gazette at a later hour the same morning.

From about ten o’clock on Thursday night the people began to assemble in front of the Palace. By one o’clock in the morning of Friday the crowd had become dense and began to show threatening signs of a riotous character; but they dispersed by degrees without serious incidents, until at dawn scarcely one hundred men were remaining in the neighborhood. Rumors of the Emperor’s abdication were spread abroad after sunrise; and again the crowd of excited people increased in front of the main gate of the Palace and in the streets adjoining. A hand-bill, circulated from the same source of so much pernicious misinformation—namely, the native edition of the Korean Daily News—which asserted that the Emperor had been deposed and was going to be carried off to Japan by Viscount Hayashi, added greatly to the popular excitement. The Korean police, under Police Adviser Maruyama, however, had the matter well in hand; and having been earnestly advised by the Resident-General to avoid all unnecessary harshness, they succeeded in dispersing the people with only a few trifling encounters. In the work of restoring order and preventing riot and bloodshed, the police were doubtless greatly assisted by a timely downpour of rain. For of all people under the sun it is probable that a Korean crowd of men, with their expensive and cherished crinoline hats and their lustrous white raiment, most object to getting thoroughly wet. Patriotism of the intensest heat can scarcely bear this natural process of cooling.

At 7.15 P. M. on July 19th the Korean Minister of Justice called on the Resident-General and delivered to him the following message from His Majesty:

This appeal to the Residency-General to preserve order in Seoul was made in view of events which had occurred earlier in the afternoon of the same day. About a quarter to four a Japanese military officer on horseback was stopped by the mob while passing in front of the main gate of the Palace; and when the Japanese policemen in the Korean service came to his rescue and attempted to open a path for him through the crowd, both they and the officer were more or less seriously wounded by stones. The mob, on being dispersed, retreated in the neighborhood of Chong-no. Here a party of Korean soldiers, who had deserted from the barracks since the previous night, joined the crowds under the command of an officer. Soon after five o’clock these soldiers, without either provocation or warning, fired a succession of volleys upon a party of police officers, killing and wounding more than a score; whereupon the fury of the mob broke out anew, and several more were killed and wounded on both sides. The total number of police officers who lost their lives in this way was ten, and some thirty or more others were more or less severely wounded.[104] After this dastardly action the Korean soldiers ran away.

As to the unprovoked character of this deplorable incident the testimony of eye-witnesses is quite conclusive. Dr. George Heber Jones, who was on the spot soon after the first sound of firing, says: “In fact all through the excitement I was impressed with the moderation and self-control shown by the public officers in dealing with the crowds which had been surging about them since Thursday night. Their conduct was admirable.” After narrating the experiences of himself and his companion as they came upon the dead and wounded lying in the streets and alleys of the district, the wrecked police-boxes and the officers covered with blood, this witness goes on to say: “The Pyeng-yang soldiers in the barracks just north of Chong-no, becoming restive, in the afternoon broke into the magazine of their barracks and supplied themselves with ammunition. One company of them then broke out, and under command—it is said, of a captain who was mounted—suddenly appeared at Chong-no and without warning began firing on the policemen who were trying to preserve order in the crowds.... A mania of destruction took possession of the people for a time, and there are reports of assaults on Japanese civilians in various parts of the city; and from what I personally witnessed there is little doubt of this, that the scenes of violence which occurred in 1884 were repeated yesterday.”[105]

As a result of the Emperor’s request following upon this outbreak of serious disorder, the city of Seoul was put in charge of Japanese police and gendarmes. A strong body of Japanese troops was posted outside the Palace, and four machine guns were placed in front of the Taihan or Main Gate. A battalion of infantry was summoned from Pyeng-yang, and a squadron of the artillery regiment at Yong-san. The riotous outbreaks were now mainly directed against those Korean officials who had brought about the abdication of the Emperor. Over one thousand rioters assembled near the Kwang-song Gate and, after a short debate, proceeded to assault and set on fire the residence of the Prime Minister, Mr. Yi Wan-yong. In spite of the efforts of the Japanese troops and gendarmes, as well as of the fire brigades, a large portion of the residence was destroyed. Part of a Korean battalion also assaulted the prison at Chong-no, where the headquarters of the Japanese police had been established, but were driven away. At 6 P. M. of Tuesday, July 23d, a huge crowd assembled and “passed resolutions” that at sunset the headquarters of the Il Chin-hoi, or party most prominent in its demand for reforms, should be set on fire, and after this several other buildings were marked for destruction. These attempts were, however, frustrated; but the villas of Mr. Yi Kun-tak and Mr. Yi Chi-yung, the former Ministers of War and of Home Affairs, outside the small East Gate, were burned. Finally, these demonstrations of rowdyism came to a point of cessation, and the usual order of Seoul was restored. During the period of rioting the Korean crowd was, as usual, tolerably impartial in the distribution of its favors; in addition to Japanese and Koreans, a few Chinese and other foreigners were assaulted or shot at.

All these events made it entirely obvious, even to the most prejudiced observer, that the Korean Government was still as incapable of securing and preserving order in times of popular excitement as it has ever been. It could not guarantee the safety of its own officials or of foreigners of any nationality, without outside assistance. Unless the controlling influence of the Japanese authorities had been exercised, there cannot be the slightest doubt that a frightful reign of anarchy and bloodshed would have ensued upon the abdication of the Emperor; and no one acquainted with the Korean mob, when once let loose, will venture to predict how many, and whom, it might have involved. Thus far these authorities had done nothing beyond lending an indispensable support and assistance to the Korean Government. They were acting wholly in its interests as centralized in the newly declared Emperor and in the Cabinet Ministers. One other thing, however, was also made equally obvious. The Korean army could not be trusted; its continuance as at present constituted was an intolerable menace to both governments, as well as to the interests of the people at large. It was intrinsically worthless for the legitimate purposes of an army, and dangerous in the extreme as a force to provoke and to intensify all manner of lawlessness. If it had not been for the mutinous action of these undisciplined troops, who became centres of all the forces of sedition, arson, and murder, there would probably have been little or no bloodshed connected with the events of July, 1907.

It should not be forgotten that the Korean Ministers were influenced by patriotic motives in unanimously and urgently demanding the abdication of the Emperor.[106] It immediately became evident, however, that His Majesty did not intend really to abdicate, but that he was continuing his old tricks of intrigue, double-dealing, and instigating assassination. There was well-founded suspicion—to quote a statement based on trustworthy information—that “the unfortunate incident of Friday last and the mutinous spirit prevailing among the Korean troops were the result of an understanding between the ex-Emperor and his abettors and supporters in Seoul.” There was even proof of a conspiracy to have the Korean troops rise in a body, kill the entire Korean Cabinet, and rescue from their dominating influence his “oppressed” Majesty. Whatever may be the full measure of truth as to these and other secret intrigues and plots for sedition and murder, certain actions were publicly avowed that were unmistakably in open defiance of the new Emperor and his Ministers, as well as complete proof that by abdication His Majesty meant something quite different from what the word was properly held to signify. [This Korean word was indeed capable of two interpretations; it was, however, the term customarily employed to signify the relinquishment of Imperial control and responsibility, while at the same time “saving the face” of the person abdicating and often increasing his real influence for evil.]

At midnight on Saturday, July 20th, the ex-Emperor summoned to the Palace and personally appointed Pak Yong-hio to be “Minister of the Imperial Household.”[107] Upon this Mr. Pak had the impudence to call upon Marquis Ito on the following Sunday morning and announce his appointment. It is probable that he did not meet with a very cordial reception, or succeed well in impressing His Excellency with the dignity and value of his new office. Not satisfied with this practical retraction of his own deposition of Imperial functions, when the Cabinet submitted to the Throne for Imperial signature a draft of an edict calling upon the people to keep peace and order, the ex-Emperor prohibited his son, now the reigning Emperor, from signing it and insisted that the edict should be issued in his own name. In view of all this manœuvering, the Cabinet Ministers spent another whole night closeted with the ex-Emperor: they emerged from this new contention with a renewed and perfectly positive declaration of abdication. At the same time the new Emperor issued over his own name an edict in which his subjects were warned against all disloyalty to him, and were exhorted to turn their energies, in reliance upon his guidance, to the advancement of civilization and of the national interests.

Nothing could, of course, be done toward settlement of the problem of future relations between the Governments of Korea and Japan until public order was restored. But speculation was eager and varied as to what would then take place: for neither had the Marquis Ito disclosed his views upon this subject, nor had the instructions of Minister Hayashi been made known to the public. The telegrams which came into Seoul from all quarters showed that the civilized world, both diplomatic and business, expected the out-and-out annexation of Korea by Japan, and the consequent dethronement of the Imperial house. The Koreans themselves expected little less; in addition to this they feared the immediate and open humiliation of having the ex-Emperor carried off to the enemies’ country. Indeed, it was this severe calamity which the Korean Cabinet hoped to mitigate by procuring His Majesty’s abdication. In the same hope the most numerous of the several Korean societies of an alleged patriotic character—the Il Chin-hoi, or “All-for-Progress Society”—sent in a petition, or “pathetic memorial,” to the Residency-General. After acknowledging “the policy of mildness and conciliation” which had won for His Excellency the hearts of the Korean people, the memorial proceeds in substance as follows: “The offence which the Emperor has committed in connection with the Hague question is great as a mountain; His Majesty has been very deficient in having a proper sense of what he owes to Japan. But what fault is there in the people who know nothing about the affair? Or what culpability in the land and soil of Korea? They are in no way related to the dynasty of Korea. When we think over these things we cannot stop the flow of tears in a thousand drops. Your Excellency, we pray you to have mercy on the mountains and seas of Korea and to place in a position of safety the 20,000,000 souls, the 3,000,000 homesteads, and the nation of 500 years,” [The customary expedient of Korean rhetoric is to be noted in doubling the number of the population of the peninsula.]

It has been said of the Japanese that they treat no one else so generously as their defeated and prostrate enemy. However this may be, it is matter of historical truth that after some particularly aggravating offence from Korea, what Western nations generally would regard as an excess of chivalric and totally unappreciated kindness has quite uniformly characterized the treatment accorded to this country by the Japanese Government. The Bismarckian policy of “making your enemy cough up all you can when you have him by the throat” has never been the policy of Japan in dealing with the peninsula. And yet, at last, it should have been perfectly evident to every true friend of both countries that the Korean Government—traditionally corrupt, cruel, and regardless of the Korean nation—must no longer be allowed to stand between this nation and the plans for bringing it into an improved internal condition and into safer relations with foreign Powers. That formal annexation was never contemplated by the Tokyo Government became evident when, on the evening of July 21st, a congratulatory telegram was received by the new Emperor from His Imperial Majesty, the Emperor of Japan. To this telegram a reply was sent on the next day, which read, in effect, as follows: “By the order of my Imperial father I have ascended the throne at this difficult crisis, and being conscious of my unworthiness, I am filled with apprehensions. I beg Your Majesty to accept my profound thanks for Your Majesty’s courteous telegram of congratulations. I warmly reciprocate Your Majesty’s wishes for still more intimate relationship between the two countries and between our Imperial Houses.”

After a number of consultations between Minister Hayashi and the Residency-General, and between the Japanese representatives and the Korean Cabinet (who, in their turn, consulted among themselves and with the new Emperor), at noon of Wednesday, July 24th, Marquis Ito handed over to the Korean Government a document conveying Japan’s proposals as the basis of a new Japanese-Korean agreement. After the Korean Ministers had again conferred with one another, the Premier and the Minister of War, at four o’clock P. M. of the same day, had a brief audience with their Emperor. Other conferences continued through the whole of this memorable night—with the result that at a later audience Mr. Yi Wan-yong, the Premier, was invested by His Majesty with authority to sign the new Convention. It is understood that on this occasion, as on that former equally memorable night in November of 1905, Marquis Ito used the authority given him to modify some of the details, so as to make them seem less harsh while preserving the substance of the contract, in order to “save the face” of the Korean Government. When this Convention was published in the Official Gazette, the Korean politicians of the Palace “gang” were congratulating themselves on having escaped so easily from the risk of a punitive expedition to which their Emperor, by their own assistance, had subjected them; the Korean Cabinet were congratulating themselves on the deliverance of their country from the peril of annexation; while the majority of the Korean people, even in Seoul, seemed quite indifferent to what had happened.

Immediately upon the conclusion of the new Convention Marquis Ito summoned to his residence the principal Residency-General officials and acquainted them with its terms. He also informed them that he should himself adhere constantly and firmly to the policy of carrying out its stipulations; and he exhorted them to bear in mind what he had just said and to spare no pains to discharge their own duties with moderation and efficiency. The officials, in their turn, congratulated the Resident-General upon his brilliant success, and promised their co-operation in the new plans now before them.

The Agreement of July 24, 1907, definitively places the enactment of all laws and ordinances, the administration of all important Korean Government affairs, and all official appointments which relate to internal administration, under the control of the Japanese Resident-General. Its preamble renews the assertion which has governed the policy of Marquis Ito throughout—namely, that the motive is to be found in “the early attainment of the prosperity and strength of Korea,” and the “speedy promotion of the welfare of the Korean people.” Moreover, it pledges the Korean Government to keep judicial affairs distinct from administrative affairs. With regard to the appointment and dismissal of officials of the higher rank, whether native or foreign, it is specified that the consent of the Resident-General must be secured; and also that his recommendations for the appointment of Japanese to official positions shall be followed. Taken in connection with the Convention of November, 1905, therefore, the present condition of Korea is undoubtedly that of a country completely dependent upon Japan for both internal government and also for commercial and diplomatic relations with all foreign countries. For the present the autonomy of Korea, except so far as it is preserved in certain customs and laws which even the source of control would be forced to regard, and in the nominal preservation of the Korean crown and its Cabinet Ministers, is suspended. The native government can suggest, propose, and assimilate suggestions and proposals; but they can neither initiate nor control in important affairs without the consent of the representative of Japan. On the other hand, the plans and proposals of the Japanese Resident-General must be accepted and carried out under his supervision and ultimate control.[108]

The clause in the new Convention which gave most offence to the official classes and to the Yang-bans generally in Korea was that which opened the door, per force as it were, to the appointment of Japanese to all kinds of official positions in the peninsula. Although it has been the declared policy of the present Resident-General to retain the Korean Cabinet Ministers, the agreement plainly makes it easily possible for the Japanese Government to treat desirable appointments in Korea as freely in the interests of its own countrymen as is possible for the British Government in British India. The pledge, however, to maintain the Imperial House in the nominal possession of the crown, and in the show of authority and dignity which go with this possession, appears still to be binding upon Japan. From this time onward, the Resident-General becomes the uncrowned king of Korea.

In spite of this, and of all the other features of these reformed relations which might seem offensive and humiliating to Korean officialdom, it is altogether likely that no considerable disturbance would anywhere have taken place, had it not been for the action of the same disorderly and rebellious factors which occasioned the bloodshed and confusion of Friday, July 19th.[109] These were the Korean troops belonging to the barracks at Seoul. Let it be distinctly understood that these troops were not disciplined soldiers; much less were they sincere though misguided patriots. They were largely untrained rowdies, who cared chiefly for the pay, prestige, and idle life which their employment as so-called palace guards gave to them. At the time of the conclusion of the Convention an understanding probably existed between the Resident-General and the Korean Ministry, who were themselves threatened with assassination and the defeat of all their work by these same armed and unscrupulous fellows, that the Korean army should be disbanded.

Late on Wednesday night, July 31st, an Imperial rescript was issued which ordered the disbandment of the Korean Army. The reason assigned was the necessity of economizing all superfluous expenses and applying the funds thus saved to material improvement. The existing army was called “mercenaries”[110] and said to be “unfit for purposes of national defense.” The intention was announced to remodel the entire military system and, for the present time, to attend chiefly to the training of officers for a national army in the future. A small select force was to be retained as guardians of the Imperial House, and a gratuity in money was to be bestowed upon every one of the disbanded troops, according to rank. All the reasons here given for this action were quite in accordance with the facts; but the most important of all was, of course, concealed—namely, that the existing army was the most serious of all menaces to good order and to peace. It was sure to be the tool, for purposes of assassination, of the reactionary party.

Early the following morning—Thursday, July 31st—the superior officers were summoned to the residence of General Hasegawa, where General Yi, the Korean Minister of War, read to them the rescript of disbandment. After conference it was decided that the non-commissioned officers and men of all the battalions in Seoul should be marched without arms to the parade ground inside the East Gate of the city and there be dismissed after receiving their gratuities from the Emperor. They were to be present for this purpose by ten o’clock of the same morning. Soon after eight o’clock, as the Japanese instructor of the Korean Army was engaged, in its barracks, in drawing up the first battalion of the First Korean Regiment, a great noise of weeping and groaning was heard, and the fact was made known that its commander had committed suicide. This was the signal for the springing up of a great excitement, during which the troops broke their ranks and threatened the Japanese officer with a murderous attack. The mutiny spread at once to another battalion occupying adjoining barracks. The mutineers then proceeded to break open the magazines and, arming themselves, they rushed out of the barracks. They thereupon posted sentinels around the barracks where the majority of the forces still remained, who began to fire aimless shots from within upon the passers-by. Meantime some of the troops ran away.

From this centre the mutiny spread, the mutineers rushing out from the barracks to fire upon the Japanese officers who were conducting to the parade ground the other Korean battalions; but soon after the appointed time of ten o’clock all the Korean forces had reported there, with the exception of the two mutinous battalions. The reduction of the mutinous soldiers was no easy matter, for the main force was entrenched behind stone walls near the centre of the city, and the Japanese forces attacking them were much embarrassed by being fired upon by those of the number who had rushed out from the barracks. But the use of several machine guns—two of which, after being planted on the wall of the Great South Gate, were trained so as to cover the advance of the Japanese infantry—and a hand-to-hand fight with bayonets and hand-grenades at the barracks soon reduced the mutinous Korean soldiers. By 10.50 A. M. the barracks were completely in the hands of the Japanese. The casualties as estimated in the official report of General Hasegawa were, on the side of the Japanese, 3 killed, and 2 officers and 20 men wounded; on the side of the Koreans, 11 officers and 57 men killed, and 100 officers and men wounded. Korean officers and men, to the number of 516, were taken prisoners. The best possible care was given to the wounded, both Koreans and Japanese, in the government and missionary hospitals—Marquis Ito, and his suite, and the prominent Japanese ladies belonging to the Red Cross Society and Patriotic Associations, visiting them in the hospitals and making generous contributions to their assistance and comfort.

In one respect, however, the Japanese military authorities made a mistake which their hostile critics were not slow to seize upon and exaggerate to the discredit of their management generally. It appears that the services of some thirty civilians were volunteered and accepted to assist the police and soldiers in searching for the fugitive mutineers. Much bad blood had been stirred up between the two nationalities by the previous unprovoked attack and murder of the Japanese police at the hands of mutinous Korean soldiers. In the spirit of vengeance, therefore, there was no doubt considerable return of excesses on the part of irresponsible individuals among the Japanese civilian volunteers. Otherwise, the very trying situation in which these revolts of the Korean military forces placed the Japanese Government in Seoul was apparently met with commendable moderation and skill.

One of the most noteworthy features of this entire disturbance was the complete aloofness of the people of Seoul from any hostile demonstration toward the Japanese. Within forty-eight hours of this battle between their own disbanded troops and the foreign military, the city resumed its normal appearance; the people went about their accustomed occupations; the full tide of business began to flow as usual. Such behavior as this, under anything resembling similar conditions, has seldom or never before characterized the populace of Seoul. It must be interpreted as a hopeful sign for the future good order and prosperity of the city.

The disbandment of the Korean provincial garrisons for the most part proceeded quietly. But the disbanded soldiers in considerable numbers allied themselves with other elements of riot and unrest, and local disturbances of a more or less serious character continued to break out and demand suppression by the police and the military, here and there in various parts of the peninsula. This state of things continued for weeks and, in a diminishing degree, for months following the Convention of July, 1907. But the detailed account of these transactions does not concern our narrative. Under the circumstances they may be considered as temporary but unavoidable incidents in the practical solution of this complex and difficult historical problem of the relations to be established between Japan and Korea. Among the mutinous and riotous outbreaks that at Kang-wha Island—the scene in the past of so many acute conflicts between Korea and foreign nations—was typical and also, perhaps, one of the most important. When the Japanese captain in command of a detachment of Japanese troops, and accompanied by the Korean commander of the native battalion at Suwon, arrived to disband the Korean garrison and to distribute the gratuities, they were met by a shower of bullets poured upon them while landing on the island. The Korean mutineers retreated to the city of Kang-wha, where they were joined by some 300 rioters. Under cover of the city walls they offered a somewhat stubborn resistance to the attacking forces, but were finally dislodged and fled in various directions. It was afterward learned that the Korean troops, in defiance of their own officers, had broken open the military magazine, murdered the magistrate of the island and several policemen, and had then forced some hundreds of the citizens, by threats of death, to join with them in fighting the Japanese. When the real fighting began, they ran away.

The procedure at Kang-wha, we repeat, was typical. It is a specimen of the Korean ancestral way of resisting every form of government. The method of these “patriotic” uprisings was everywhere similar. Several score or hundreds of Koreans, stirred and led by the disbanded soldiers, came together, killed the Japanese—old men, women, and children—as well as the police officials, shot some of their own countrymen, chiefly those suspected of not being sufficiently violent in their anti-Japanese sentiments, burned and plundered indiscriminately; and then when the Japanese military or police approached in any formidable numbers they ran away and hid themselves. In view of these disturbed conditions and the alleged connection of some of their converts with these uprisings, the missionaries were anew placed in a difficult and delicate situation. This, however, like the greater number of similar previous trials, was not primarily due to the Japanese Protectorate, but to the Koreans themselves—Emperor, officials, and common people. There were numerous plausible charges made against the missionaries and their converts of harboring Korean rioters and even of lending countenance to the rioting under the pretence of patriotism. There can be little doubt, however, that these charges were, almost if not quite without exception, either misunderstandings or malicious falsehoods. The misunderstandings were, in view of the past, not altogether unreasonable; the falsehoods were such as are encountered by the religious teacher wherever he seems to stand in the way of unlimited greed or unchecked violence. On the whole, as has already been said, there can be no doubt that the missionaries and their Korean converts exerted a notable influence in favor of quietness, peace, and the observance of law and order. That the native Christians were alarmed, and stood in fear both of the Japanese and of their own countrymen, was a thing to be expected. But probably their experience in this time of trial with the behavior of these foreign policemen and soldiers tended to diminish the native dislike and dread of the Japanese Protectorate.

At once the strength of the reform party among the Koreans themselves began to make itself felt under the terms of the new Convention. On the date of August 15th an Imperial rescript forbade boys under seventeen years of age, and girls under fifteen, from contracting marriages. The same day the new Emperor proclaimed the purpose, which he afterward carried out, to cut his hair on the occasion of his formal accession to the throne and to dress himself in military uniform from that time. The ex-Emperor, in spite of the fact that he had formerly been glad to see his people excited to rebellion and murder by a similar proposal for changing the fashion of the Korean gentleman’s head-dress, and in spite also of the fact that weeping eunuchs and ancient Court officials besought him not to proceed to such lengths in breaking with the past, actually did subsequently join in the new custom. And when the deed was done, His ex-Majesty was pleased to command the objectors to do likewise, and to say for himself that the change was really not half so bad as he had thought it would be. Now, although these are not trivial matters in Korea, or mere straws which show the way of the blowing of the wind, a more important result of the new Convention was this: after due deliberation, the Cabinet Ministers decided that the young son of Lady Om who had already been proclaimed Crown Prince, must in future really attend to his lessons and become educated in some manner befitting his future expectations. Although it was doubted whether His Imperial Highness was not still too young to go to Japan for study, he was required to begin the study of the Japanese language in addition to English and Chinese. Left to the influence of the eunuchs and palace women, he was sure to be debauched and ruined. Educated, he may easily make the best sovereign Korea has enjoyed for centuries.

At once also the Resident-General began to mature the larger plans for carrying out his purposes toward Korea which the new Convention made possible. For now upon the Japanese Government in Korea rested the responsibility, not only for the satisfactory and safe management of the country’s foreign relations, but directly and more heavily than ever before, the readjustment, reform, and successful management of all its internal affairs. To report to the Emperor of Japan, and to consult with His Majesty and with the Japanese Government about the form and successful execution of the measures made necessary or desirable by the new Convention, Marquis Ito paid a visit to his native land. Leaving Seoul by special train for Chemulpo on the afternoon of August 11th, His Excellency arrived at Oiso five days later; and on the Tuesday following, August 20th, received at Shimbashi Station in Tokyo a reception, both by the official class and by the crowds, such as has seldom or never been accorded to a civilian before in the history of Japan. The reception given to him by the Emperor, who had sent an Imperial Chamberlain to intimate his desire to consult with the Resident-General, was scarcely less unique.

In the many public addresses which followed, at the various banquets and receptions given to the Marquis, he took pains to make it perfectly clear that his benevolent intentions toward the Korean people had in no respect suffered a change. Of himself he declared that he was neither elated in spirit over the success of the new treaty, nor depressed in spirit before the new difficulties which must be encountered. He wished his countrymen to remember that the Korean problem was not political, not one of the successful exploitation of a weaker nation by a stronger, but a question of that policy which should be for the highest interests and best welfare of both nations. The need of the hour was the need of men—both Japanese and Koreans—who could stand in the places of responsibility and influence, and discharge their duties faithfully, honestly, unselfishly. The work which he had undertaken to do in Korea was only a beginning; and on account of advancing age he must soon let it go from his hand. At present, however, he was in harness and must remain so. When the time came for him to resign, he hoped sincerely that some able and wise successor in the office—now so increasingly responsible—of Japanese Resident-General in Korea might somewhere be found.

This historical and critical sketch of the relations between the two nations of Japan and Korea fitly closes with the visit of Marquis—now Prince—Ito to Tokyo in August of 1907. The results to follow from the plans which were then matured for the administration of the offices of the Residency-General and for the more ultimate solution of the delicate and complex problem of bringing about a state of affairs which shall at the same time redeem Korea and deliver Japan from the constant menace which the peninsula has hitherto been—and not only this, but shall bind the two nations together in a common prosperity under terms of friendship and good-will, are destined to form important items in the future history of the Far East. It remains only to add that no one who could have heard the firm and feeling-full declaration made to the writer by His Excellency when the latter was on the eve of returning to Seoul, would question the wisdom, honesty, or benevolence of the Japanese Resident-General in Korea. As fast and far as he can have his way, this long-time misgoverned and wretched nation will be reformed and uplifted to an unwonted economical and political prosperity.