Korean sketches

Preface

Comparatively little has as yet been -written that gives an idea of Korean life and character. After some nine years of intimate association with this quaintest and oldest of living races, I have put these sketches together, believing that they give a correct picture of the Hermit people as it is, and as it has been since the long forgotten days before our Anglo-Saxon race came into existence. May they be instrumental in drawing young men and women into deeper sympathy with our brothers and sisters of the Hermit Kingdom !

James S. Galb.

Vfosans, EoBEA.

ON LIFE.

Ye white gull of the sea So free !

What earthly care or rue.

Is there for a bird like you.

Swimming on the sea}

Tell of those happy islands where Poor mortals may resign their care.

And follow after thee 1

Contents

OHIF. FASB

I. FiBST IMPEKSSIONS 11

n. Thx Coolie 62

II

Pew subjects present more of interest to a foreigner in Korea than the coolie. He it is, who alone exhibits in his person those peculiarities that have been smothered out of his race by fumes of Confucianism. The Koreans having inhaled this teaching from childhood, have gradually lost their natural traits and have become more and more artificial, ever striving to mortify the man that they are, and to put on for new man, a ghost of antiquity. The coolie, however, is not in any such bondage, but exhibits a host of characteristics that make him in some respects the most interesting figure in the land of Morning Calm.

From the first glimpse you have of him you recognize that he is a creature of repose. Nothing should be more restful to a nervous, impatient foreigner, than the sight of a coolie by the wayside, sitting on his heels, or as we generally say, squatting, (sometimes long rows of them), motionless as sea-fowl, indifferent to the heat of the sun, to the flies that congregate upon him, or to the pestiferous gutters that ooze beneath his feet.

While other mortals are in constant commotion, fearful of this and that, yet aching for change, the Korean coolie continues immovable throughout the ages, the muscles of his heels never growing tired, inhaling all the while atmospheres that would depopulate a Western city, or by way of diversion, eating melons rind and all, in the face of cholera and other Egyptian plagues.

It is an atmosphere of repose rather than indifference, that envelopes him. Indifference suggests an evironment with which one is not in harmony, while repose indicates perfect agreement. Not only can he sit in a painful position for hours, but he can sleep with head down and mouth wide open under the fiercest sun of the Orient, and rise as refreshed as though he had had a night on a spring mattress, followed by a morning bath. This is proof that it is not a matter of indifference with him, else he would have had sunstroke. The fact that he rises refreshed to enjoy his pipe, proves it repose.

Undoubtedly, he is the greatest living example of the absence of all excitement or animated interest of any kind whatever. He can eat an astounding dish of pap (rice), and be asleep with his head on a wooden block in less time than a foreigner requires to trim his toothpick. Nothing short of a bowl of vermicelli

(huh-su"), or the crack of doom, can create the slightest interest in him or prove that he has nerves at all.

This characteristic, while highly to be commended in some respects, has frequently proven a source of difference between the coolie and the foreigner. The latter proud of his watchword — action, runs full tilt into the coolie who sits heavy in repose. It is like a railway train taking a header for a mud embankment — newspapers announce next day, " Smash up " — not of the embankment, but of the railway train.

In view of this danger to the foreigner, the coolie has of late years done considerable to change his ways, although of course, even in foreign employ he still experiences old sensations, and at times falls into his native repose.

Only once do I recollect seeing marked animation in coolies' eyes. It was at a stone fight, such as they used to indulge in in the brave days of old. Several hundred of the best marksmen of the capital chose sides, and armed with stones weighing one and two pounds each, assembled for the fray. When I arrived, missiles were flying through the air, any one of which would have done for a man as easily as a fifty pound projectile. All were alive to the danger, and the rush and scramble to escape was like a stampede of wild beasts. The throwing was magnificent. It seemed, in truth, a little war of giants. The fight grew fast and furious. Begrimed with dust and sweat each side drew in closer, and sent rocks flying through the air in a way that was simply appalling. Then came a 6hock of cessation, a shout as though a goal were scored ; one of the best marksmen of the enemy had been struck squarely, and was killed. His body was carried off the field, and again the fight began. Before evening closed one had fallen on the other side, and thus the score was even.

Such is the coolie, and yet a gentler, more lamb -like creature never lived. . Apart from this one ancient custom he is peace itself; even his personal wars are merely threatenings. One of the amusing sights of the street is a fight — the combatants of course always being coolies, as no gentleman would soil his garments who had a servant to engage for him. It usually begins in dispute, passes through different stages, each marked by a special pitch of voice and rapidity of utterance, and at last ends in a climax of fury. A perfect stream of invectives is poureu forth, accompanied by appeals to men and aa^jcls to behold the object of depravity. A foreigner is horrified, convinced as he is that novihing short of one life can relieve the pent-up condition of affairs; when suddenly the whole case collapses, and the combatants are seen on each end of the piazza, smoking as peacefully as if all within the four seas were brothers.

The question has often arisen, Is the Korean coolie an arrant coward, or is he the bravest man alive since Jack the Giant Killer? Evidence is not lacking for the support of either supposition. On the first announcement of the Japan-China war, we saw him with personal effects on his back and considerable animation in his walk, making for the hills. We have seen him too, in the capacity of trespasser, being whipped out of a compound with a small willow switch, and wilting under the blows as though they had been sword cuts, repeating with imploring look, "Aigo! You've killed me! you've killed me ! "

I once had the pleasure of seeing a small foreigner of hasty temperament marshalling his men on a journey. The coolies he had were noted for strength, rather than agility, and as speed was the chief consideration, friction resulted. Matters came to a climax at last, and the small foreigner made a round of those coolies with his right foot, spreading consternation at every kick. No great damage was done, as a Korean's padded dress serves much as a bird's plumage would, under a similar form of attack. The group bowed to the inevitable, simply remarking of the foreigner, that an offspring of his kind was a caution {Keu nomeui chasik maknanio).

But there exists just as strong evidence as to the coolie's pluck. He will undergo a surgical operation without flinching where an American Would require an anaesthetic. It has been said that he has no nerves, so does not feel it, but he felt the willow switch as keenly as you or I would. Considering his weapons and opportunities, he gave a good account of himself in the old days in the defences at Kang-wha. Often, still, with wretched flint lock or fuse gun, he will steal his way among the rocks, and beard the tiger, capturing his game and returning home in triumph.

Not being able to find a definite example of more than ordinary courage, I referred the matter to my Korean friend, and he told me the following, which in his mind bespoke a heroism rarely seen among mortals : " A number of coolies had imprisoned a huge rat in a grain bin. The question now was, who would venture in bare handed, capture and dispatch the rat. One stout-looking fellow smiled broadly, and amid the applause of the on-lookers, volunteered to go. He pulled his jacket tight, tried his fingers as if to see that all were in working order, and advanced to the attack. Meanwhile the rat facing about, resolved to die game. *rhe parrying lasted a few minutes, then a pass, then a rush of confusion and sudden leap into mid air, all quick as lightning, and the coolie with one hand bleeding, held in the other the lifeless rat. Your common cricket ball," added my Korean friend, " is nothing ; but to catch a live rat, which is equal to a cricket ball charged with dynamite, requires courage indeed."

Not only does the coolie at times exhibit surprising agility, but his strength is phenomenal. With a rack made of two forked limbs fastened together, as worn by Mr. Quak, he will carry a bale of piece-goods weighing four hundred pounds, or bring a perfectly paralyzing load of deer hides all the way from Kyiing-heung on the Russian border.

In Korea there are really no carts or wheeled means of transportation. Many of the roads will not admit of beasts of burden, so the strength of the nation has gone into the coolie's shoulders. With a load such as we often see, he reminds one of the Titan Atlas lifting the world.

It has been a sorrow to many a foreigner that the coolie should be so slow in his mental movements, so obstinate about changing his mind or responding to an order, but it is easily explained. Like his body, his mind moves under a pressure of from one to four hundred pounds, which accounts for its slowness of motion. Run violently against his inclinations, and he goes obstinately along, feeling it in fact as little as if you had collided with him when carrying his load of piece goods. Violence wins nothing and means ultimate victory for the coolie. Even in Korea, how many "Westerners have spent themselves in a brilliant charge on this coolie phalanx, with apparent victory for the time, but in the end, have won only ignominy, with the name Yang-Kwi-ja (foreign devil) firmly fixed upon them. My dislike for that name is not that it has any deep spiritual signification, but that it is not complimentary and embraces in its scope too many sorts and conditions of men.

This repeated attempt to coerce the Far East, seen, not only in Korea, but elsewhere, has suggested the following lines that are especially applicable to the case of the coolie, though they may possibly have even a wider significance.

An Occidental newly sent,

And keyed up foi the tussle, Has come to rouse the Orient,

And teach it how to hustle.

"This East," he says, "man, woman, child, la chronically lazy, I'll get a move on," and he smiled, " Or drive the country crazy."

He kicked his cook, and sacked his groom,

And raised a dire disaster, But all in vain his fret and fume.

To move the Orient faster.

6o Korean Sketches

The hoise he lode Tras like his boy,

Whose maxim was to-morrow!

His life became instead of joy,

Accamnlated soirow.

His nerve gave ont, his brain went wild.

Completely off the level, And, when he died, the Orient smiled,

"A crazy foreign devil,"

In spite of all the pressure, moral and niate< rial, that weighs against him, the coolie remains the managing director of the nation, the ornament of every corner and gateway in the city. I reverence him, in fact' I always feel respect for any one who has cheated me as successfully and as often as he has. He does it fairly and squarely, a pure matter of business, the sharper man coming out best. On the other hand, sensations of humility creep over me, in remembrance of a saying of my Scotch grandfathers, " wha cheats me aince shame fa' him, wha cheats me twice shame fa' me."

But there is a way to manage the coolie, take him gently and softly at first, with slightly increasing pressure as his being comes into motion, and you can turn him this way and that as by the turning of a rudder ; for his condition is not one of obstinacy, but of inability.

It has often been a question, how people who never read employ the mind, and with what do they store it. We can see so little in a lifetime, and can hear so much less at first hand, that we are indebted more largely to literature than to anything else for the delights of life, and for what we know ; but the coolie has no literature, yet his mind is stored to repletion ; he can entertain you by the hour with tales of impossibilities. To him everything worth repeating must be clothed with the marvellous. Tell him a plain truth, and he will forget it before the morning. Tell him one of the latest yarns, and he will believe it ; add to it, and pass it on to the second and third generation. The mind must have its store, and if it cannot obtain it through literature, it will through tradition. Imagine this process going on from father to son for a thousand years, and you can guess the kind of legends and myths that fill the coolie's mind ; interesting, some of them are, but quite as far removed from truth as from the generation that began them.

Literature in Korea is a dead letter, so that the interesting field for research is, after all, the beliefs and traditions of the non-reading classes; and the coolie is the only one who possesses these intact. This is by itself so wide a subject that we cannot here touch upon it. His beliefs are legion, though not defined sufficiently to constitute his religion. Articles of dress, trees by the wayside, animals and birds, have endless signs and omens associated with them.

Once while on a journey, my coolie called at my room in the early morning in great distress, saying that the night before he had left his straw shoes to dry in front of the kitchen stoke hole, and that in the dark before the dawn they had been swept into the fire and burned. As they cost only a few cash, we tried to comfort him by saying he could have another pair, but he said, " No ! no ! that's not it. To burn your shoes is an omen. I shall die." I tried to reason him out of it, but he was fixed in his faith, and that day went with doleful face till we reached the capital. Two days later he sent saying he was very ill. I had a foreign physician see him, who pronounced his case typhus. The poor coolie with a most lugubrious face reminded me of the omen three nights before, as much as to say, that he and his straw shoes knew more in half an hour than I could tell them in years.

Independence is a new thought to Korea, and a new word has been coined to express it. The native has never dreamed of an existence apart from that of others. In the Western world, a man may bear his own burden, just as a house may stand by itself in a wide expanse of country; but in the Orient men work in groups, and houses draw together into hamlets and villages. The great forces with us are centrifugal, marked by extension, separation, and the like ; while in the East, life tends toward the centre, and is characterized by contraction and limitation, the coolie being one of the largest factors in this process. The sphere of his usefulness is so contracted in fact, that he will undertake nothing without an assistant. He eyes the simplest task with a look of despair, unless you will engage his friend as well. Should it be the handling of a wood-saw, he must have a coolie at the other end ; not from necessity, but because it is custom and conforms to the eternal fitness of things.

His use of a shovel too is striking. A description of this I will quote from my friend the Rev. G. Heber Jones, one of the closest observers and best students in Korea. " This interesting invention occupies a front rank among labor-saving machines of Korea, for it saves from three to five men a vast deal of work. It consists of a long wooden shovel, armed with an iron shoe, to cut into the earth properly. The handle is about five feet long, and is worked (to a certain extent) by the captain of the crew. Two ropes, one on each side, are attached to the bowl of the shovel, and these are managed by the men who 6eek to save their labor.

" While in operation the captain inserts the iron-shod point of the shovel sometimes as deep into the earth as three inches, and then the crew of two or four men give a lusty pull and a shout, and away will go a tablespoonful of earth fully six feet or more, into the distance. This operation is repeated three or four times, and then the weary crew take a recess, and refresh themselves with a pipe. It is a beautiful sight to watch a crew working these power , shovels ; everything is executed with such clocklike regularity, especially the recess. They sometimes sing in a minor strain — for the Korean coolie can always be depended on, when putting in his time, to do it in as pleasant a manner as possible.

" That this implement belongs to the class of labor-saving machines there can be no doubt. It takes five men to do one man's work, but entails no reduction in the pay. In fact, the number of the crew can be extended to the limit of the shovel's ropes without risk of a strike among the laborers. Many interesting stories might be told to illustrate its name of the power shovel, one of which I will tell : We had a small patch of ground we wanted turned over, so we hired a coolie, and put into his hand a beautiful new spade from America. He attached two straw ropes to it, hired four other coolies, at our expense of course, and did the job in triumph. Such is the power of this instrument over the Korean coolie's mind." No amount of money can tempt the coolie to break faith with custom. He regards money as a convenience, but in no case as a necessity. Other things being satisfactory he will agree to accept of it, will demand more at times, or will regard with a look of scorn the largest amount you can offer him. He never descends to purely business relations. When you engage him for a piece of work he comes simply with a desire for ypur convenience, while in the evening you present him with cash expressive of your friendship and appreciation. Should the relations during the day become strained, he will probably demand more; should friendship be strengthened, he will accept less; should mutual disagreement break out, he will not work for you for any money, and in all probability will have you boycotted by others of the village.

The coolie's religion consists in a worship of ancestors, and a hatred of all officialdom ; not that he really loves the former, or dislikes the latter; but custom requires that he attribute success to the virtue of his forefathers, and failure to the depravity of the district mandarin ; hence expressions of reverence for the one, and sworn hatred for the other.

In the first prefecture I visited, the coolies of the village spent a large part of their time squatting on their heels, anathematizing the prefect who lived over the hills in the yamen. It seemed to me we were on the eve of an uprising that would leave not even cotton wadding enough to tell of the fate of the hapless magistrate. During the course of the season, we became acquainted, and a more sleek, contented official it has never been my fortune to know — ^wholly oblivious he seemed to the storm brewing about his ears. The storm continued to brew, but never broke. Visits to other parts of the country have since demonstrated beyond doubt, that this discontent is the normal condition of affairs in Korea ; and that the prefect would never be happy or safe without this centripetal force to keep him within a reasonable orbit.

While cherishing such hatred on the one hand, the coolie is quite emphatic in his loyalty to the king on the other. To him, his majesty is the peerless perfection of wisdom and benevolence — one who in fact cannot sin; who though as wicked as Nero and unscrupulous as Ahab, would be spoken of as the son of divinity, the sinless jade ruler, etc. ; while the officers who surround him from ministers down, are regarded as public outlaws, veritable banditti of state.

The coolie has no visible fear of his fellow man. His enemies are tohgali and kwisin, which might be translated " little devils." He regards all distasteful conditions of life as under their control, and the earnestness with which he

Bets himself about the capture of the "little devil," and the corking of him in a bottle, and the burying him deep underground, has marked many an anxious line across the coolie's face, that was never marked by ordinary care or fear of mortal man. It takes the larger part of his personal earnings to pay P^ansu (blind fortunetellers) and Mutang (sorceress) who come and dance and shout with cymbals and drums and gongs — enough to scare any devil. I have watched a sorceress when exorcising some spirit. She seemed in a, state of ecstatic exhilaration, whirling and turning, until my own sight most lost its balance, and I saw no reason why I should not step into the circle and waltz round to.

The poor coolie lives in constant dread lest even his topknot be not safe. A passing devil may cut it ofP in the dark, so he seldom goes out at night. Some who have had their topknots thus stolen have come and told me. Devils set fire to the house by throwing a ball of living flame against the thatch. This ball the tokgahi have brought all the way from Pluto's furnace. Dishes go clash, bang, in the kitchen without visible cause, while water is heard being dashed against the wall. Meanwhile, the door is drawn tighter, the lock doubly fastened, and the wife trembling exclaims, these devils are worse than any mother-in-law.

I have often wondered where all the wrinkles come from on the face of the coolie, when he takes life so evenly and is so indifferent about work. I conclude that they come from fear of devils, who through the coolie's lifetime hold him in bondage.

The coolie's relation to his deceased ancestors I have never been able to define. That he is devout in the performance of the sacred rites, is unquestioned ; but that he has a clear understanding of their purport, is exceedingly doubtful. A proof however of his grasp of the situation is seen in this, that he can point you out every grave of his ancestors to the fourth generation, and can talk as familiarly of a great-grandfather's second cousin as we could of a half sister. No spirit is forgotten in his round of yearly sacrifice. As to what it all means he leaves you in doubt. Prosperity in some mysterious way hangs upon it, and there the subject rests.

I have often thought — though my Korean friend says it is not so — that the native carries a grudge against his deceased parent, such as an accomplice might feel toward one who had turned state's evidence. The parent departs this life, and in so doing, commits a heinous breach of propriety, leaving his posterity to " bear the disgrace, while he is picnicking with his seniors and other distinguished spirits of antiquity. Calling himself "depraved existence," "unconscionable sinner," the coolie mourner wanders for three years with a burden on his heart, and the shade of a wide hat over his countenance.

The coolie's home life is simple. A mat or two on the mud floor, with a fire underneath, is comfort enough for the most fastidious. His iron jointed, supple sinewed wife, keeps all in motion. The Korean would long since have been reduced to dust and ashes had it not been for her. While her husband sits and smokes, she swings her batons, making the kitchen ring with her voice or the sounds of the cooking. Though unacquainted with the embroidered side of life, she is a faithful, decent woman, and does honor to the Far East. True to her husband, and kind to her children, in spite of her unattractive appearance and emphatic manner, she takes her part in the struggle of life bravely and modestly, and does credit to womankind the world over.

But now as we leave the coolie let us remember only his virtues. He takes life as it comes, and is always good-natured. Be it rough or smooth he shines with content. He seldom washes, has no second change of clothing, no carpets or slippers. He eats any kind of food, sleeps on the roadway when night overtakes him, and lies down to die with as little cereyo Korean Sketches

mony as he lives. A rough, craggy kind of life, where strength of body and mind might both develop. Korean philosophy says strength, not beauty, is what men need. "Strength is the male, beauty is the female " : and the coolie is strong.

You are never through with him, nor is he ever through with you. He jostles you on the streets, wipes his bily shoulders on you as he goes by, bows and smiles as sweetly as though his life were a holiday and his conscience clear.

One coolie stands out prominently before me, a little man with brown face who accompanied me on trips into the interior, keeping the way clear, and acting throughout in my interest. One evening after a bleak day of nearly forty miles of travel, we entered quarters for the night, and were informed that there was no room, nothing to eat, and no use for a foreigner. All the town apparently had come out to tell us so. Here I was alone in the world, no one to depend on but the little man with brown face, and he had run forty miles already. Not wearied, but simply shortened in temper, he spent about eight seconds arguing the question with the towns-people, and when that did not avail, turned on the chief speaker, a tall lanky fellow, and taking a- double hold of the afterpart of his garments ran him down that street as though propelled by a locomotive. This was conclusive proof to the inhabitants that \re, not they, were running the town, so they yielded us a room, rice and eggs, and comfort for the night.

Many a day since, all my hopes have been centred in the little man with brown face, and never once has he failed me ; but has carried me on his back over streams, stood by through rain and snow — ever forgetful of his own comforts ; has been the life of the party, providing situations of amusement clear across the peninsula; trustworthy as one's brother, and faithful as the sun — all for what ? A few cash that he could have earned with much less labor upon his own mud floor at home ; biit down in his coolie's heart, it was for him a matter of friendship and honor.

It is long now since a difference of location compelled us to separate, but frequently still, by post or courier, comes a thick wadded letter written in native script, wishing long life and blessing ; saying that he still lives and is well ; signed awkwardly and humbly by the little man with brown face.

Ill

THE TALXJ AND BEYOND

In giving a faithful account of a journey in an Eastern country there are many things to be mentioned that are other than pleasing. One endeavors, as far as possible, to see with a halo round each eye ; but in spite of such effort, the shock is often great for a tender, Western nervous system, so that it were best not to peer too closely into the mysteries of Oriental travel.

Koyang is a little town of no importance, twelve miles northeast of Seoul. Here our party arrived about dark, and dined on rice, red peppers, and fish spawn, under the inspiration of which repast we turned in for the night.

We had started from Seoul about noon, with two ponies so piled up with bundles that scarce anything could be seen of the original animals. In our party was a Mr. So, a Korean of considerable culture, who had spent most of his life in China and on the border land. We invited him to accompany us, first, because he was a pleasant gentleman, and second, because he spoke Chinese, and we did not know but we 72 might go through Manchuria before returning. He was the awe-inspiring member of the party and lent it dignity. His monstrously padded clothes and huge black spectacles gave him the appearance of a double-eyed cyclop. His long pipe however reassured one, and demonstrated to the world that he was not a creature to be feared, but a gentle being of refinement and culture.