Part 27

THREE ITEMS OF AGREEMENT

"1. This work of ours is in behalf of truth, religion and life, undertaken at the request of our people, in order to make known their desire for liberty. Let no violence be done to any one.

"2. Let those who follow us, every man, all the time, every hour, show forth with gladness this same mind.

"3. Let all things be done decently and in order, so that our behaviour to the very end may be honourable and upright."

The 4252nd year of the Kingdom of Korea 3d Month.

Representatives of the people.

The signatures attached to the document are:

Son Pyung-hi, Kil Sun Chu, Yi Pil Chu, Paik Yong Sung, Kim Won Kyu, Kim Pyung Cho, Kim Chang Choon, Kwon Dong Chin, Kwon Byung Duk, Na Yong Whan, Na In Hup, Yang Chun Paik, Yang Han Mook, Lew Yer Dai, Yi Kop Sung, Yi Mung Yong, Yi Seung Hoon, Yi Chong Hoon, Yi Chong Il, Lim Yei Whan, Pak Choon Seung, Pak Hi Do, Pak Tong Wan, Sin Hong Sik, Sin Suk Ku, Oh Sei Chang, Oh Wha Young, Chung Choon Su, Choi Sung Mo, Choi In, Han Yong Woon, Hong Byung Ki, Hong Ki Cho.

THE PEOPLE SPEAK--THE TYRANTS ANSWER

On Saturday, March 1st, at two in the afternoon, in a large number of centres of population throughout the country, the Declaration of Korean Independence was solemnly read, usually to large assemblies, by representative citizens. In some places, the leaders of the Christians and the leaders of the non-Christian bodies acted in common. In other places, by mutual agreement, two gatherings were held at the same time, the one for Christians and the other for non-Christians. Then the two met in the streets, and sometimes headed by a band they marched down the street shouting "Mansei" until they were dispersed. Every detail had been thought out. Large numbers of copies of declarations of independence were ready. These were circulated, usually by boys and schoolgirls, sometimes by women, each city being mapped out in districts.

It was soon seen that every class of the community was united. Men who had been ennobled by the Japanese stood with the coolies; shopkeepers closed their stores, policemen who had worked under the Japanese took off their uniforms and joined the crowds, porters and labourers, scholars and preachers, men and women all came together.

In every other Korean demonstration, for untold centuries, only part of the nation had been included. When the yang-bans started a political revolt, in the old days, they did not recognize that such a thing as popular opinion existed and did not trouble to consult it. Korea had long known demonstrations of great family against great family, of Yis against Mins; of section against section, as when the Conservatives fought the Progressives; and of Independents against the old Court Gang. But now all were one. And with the men were the women, and even the children. Boys of six told their fathers to be firm and never to yield, as they were carried off to prison; girls of ten and twelve prepared themselves to go to jail.

The movement was a demonstration, not a riot. On the opening day and afterwards--until the Japanese drove some of the people to fury--there was no violence. The Japanese, scattered all over the country, were uninjured; the Japanese shops were left alone; when the police attacked, elders ordered the people to submit and to offer no resistance. The weak things had set themselves up to confound the strong.

At first, the Japanese authorities were so completely taken by surprise that they did not know what to do. Then the word was passed round that the movement was to be suppressed by relentless severity. And so Japan lost her last chance of winning the people of Korea and of wiping out the accentuated ill-will of centuries.

The first plan of the Japanese was to attack every gathering of people and disperse it, and to arrest every person who took part in the demonstrations or was supposed to have a hand in them. Japanese civilians were armed with clubs and swords and given carte blanche to attack any Korean they suspected of being a demonstrator. They interpreted these instructions freely. Firemen were sent out with poles with the big firemen's hooks at the end. A single pull with one of these hooks meant death or horrible mutilation for any person they struck.

The police used their swords freely. What I mean by "freely" can best be shown by one incident A little gathering of men started shouting "Mansei" in a street in Seoul. The police came after them, and they vanished. One man--it is not clear whether he called "Mansei" or was an accidental spectator--was pushed in the deep gutter by the roadside as the demonstrators rushed away. As he struggled out the police came up. There was no question of the man resisting or not resisting. He was unarmed and alone. They cut off his ears, cut them off level with his cheek, they slit up his fingers, they hacked his body, and then they left him for dead. He was carried off by some horrified spectators, and died a few hours later. A photograph of his body lies before me as I write. I showed the photograph one evening to two or three men in New York City. Next day I met the men again. "We had nightmare all night long, because of that picture," they told me.

In Seoul, when the thirty-three leaders were arrested, a demonstration was held in the Park and the Declaration read there. Then the crowd made an orderly demonstration in the streets, waving flags and hats, shouting "Mansei," parading in front of the Consulates and public buildings, and sending letters to the Consuls informing them of what they had done. There was no violence. The police, mounted and foot, tried to disperse the crowds and made numerous arrests, but the throngs were so dense that they could not scatter them.

Next day was Sunday. Here the strong Christian influences stopped demonstrations, for the Korean Christians observe the Sunday strictly. This gave the Japanese authorities time to gather their forces. Numerous arrests were made that day, not only in Seoul but all over the country. On Monday there was the funeral of the ex-Emperor. The people were quiet then. It was noticed that the school children were entirely absent from their places along the line of march. They had struck.

On Wednesday life was supposed to resume its normal aspects again. The schools reopened, but there were no pupils. The shops remained closed. The coolies in official employ did not come to work. The authorities sent police to order the shopkeepers to open. They opened while the police were by, and closed immediately they were out of sight. Finally troops were placed outside the shops to see that they remained open. The shopkeepers sat passive, and informed any chance enquirer that they did not have what he wanted. This continued for some weeks.

The authorities were specially disturbed by the refusal of the children to come to school. In one large junior school, the boys were implored to come for their Commencement exercises, and to receive their certificates. Let me tell the scene that followed, as described to me by people in the city. The boys apparently yielded, and the Commencement ceremonies were begun, in the presence of a number of official and other distinguished Japanese guests. The precious certificates were handed out to each lad. Then the head boy, a little fellow of about twelve or thirteen, came to the front to make the school speech of thanks to his teachers and to the authorities. He was the impersonation of courtesy. Every bow was given to the full; he lingered over the honorifics, as though he loved the sound of them. The distinguished guests were delighted. Then came the end. "I have only this now to say," the lad concluded. A change came over his voice. He straightened himself up, and there was a look of resolution in his eyes. He knew that the cry he was about to utter had brought death to many during the past few days. "We beg one thing more of you." He plunged one hand in his garment, pulled out the Korean flag, the possession of which is a crime. Waving the flag, he cried out, "Give us back our country. May Korea live forever. Mansei!"

All the boys jumped up from their seats, each one pulling out a flag from under his coat and waved it, calling, "Mansei! Mansei! Mansei!" They tore up their precious certificates, in front of the now horrified guests, threw them on the ground, and trooped out.

At nine o'clock that Wednesday morning there was a great demonstration of students and high school girls around the palace. The girls had planned out their part ahead. A big crowd gathered around. Then a large force of police rushed on them, with drawn swords, knocking down, beating and arresting, lads and girls alike. The girls were treated as roughly as the men. Over four hundred, including one hundred girl students, were taken to the police station that morning. What happened to the girls there, I tell in a later chapter. Fifteen nurse-probationers of the Severance Hospital, one of the most famous missionary hospitals in the Far East, hurried out with bandages to bind up the wounded. The police took them in custody also. They were severely examined, to find if the foreigners had instigated them to take part in the demonstrations, but were released the same afternoon.

As Prince Yi was returning from the ex-Emperor's funeral that afternoon, a group of twenty literati approached his carriage and attempted to present a petition. They were stopped by the police. A petition was sent by the literati to the Governor-General; the delegates were told to take it to the police office. Here they were arrested.

Two of the most famous nobles in the land, Viscount Kim and Viscount Li, sent a dignified petition to the Governor-General, begging him to listen to the people, and deploring the severe measures taken to suppress the demonstrations. Viscount Kim was senior peer, head of the Confucian College, and had ever been a friend of Japan. As far back as 1866, he had run the risk of death by urging the King to open the country to outside nations and to conclude a treaty with Japan. The Japanese had made him one of their new Korean peerage. He was now eighty-five, feeble and bedridden. The protest of himself and his fellow senior was measured, polished, moved with a deep sympathy for the people, but with nothing in it to which the Governor-General should have taken offence.

The Japanese treatment of these two nobles was crowning proof of their incapacity to rule another people. The two were at once arrested, and with them various male members of their families. Kim was so ill that he could not be immediately moved, so a guard was placed over his house. All were brought to trial at Seoul in July. With Viscount Kim were Kim Ki-ju, his grandson, and Kim Yu-mon. With Viscount Li was his relative Li Ken-tai. The charge against them was, of violating the Peace Preservation Act. Ki-ju aggravated his position by trying to defend himself. The Japanese press reported that he was reported to "have assumed a very hostile attitude to the bench enunciating this theory and that in defence of his cause." This statement is the best condemnation of the trial. Where a prisoner is deemed to add to his guilt by attempting to defend himself, justice has disappeared.

Viscount Kim was sentenced to two years' penal servitude, and Viscount Li to eighteen months, both sentences being stayed for three years. Kim Ki-ju, Kim Yu-mon and Li Ken-tai were sentenced to hard labour for eighteen months, twelve months and six months respectively. The sentence reflected disgrace on the Government that instituted the prosecution and decreed the punishment.

The white people of Seoul were horrified by the Japanese treatment of badly wounded men who flocked to the Severance Hospital for aid. Some of these, almost fatally wounded, were put to bed. The Japanese police came and demanded that they should be delivered up to them. The doctors pointed out that it probably would be fatal to move them. The police persisted, and finally carried off three men. It was reported that one man they took off in this fashion was flogged to death.

Reports were beginning to come in from other parts. There had been demonstrations throughout the north, right up to Wiju, on the Manchurian border. At Song-chon, it was reported, thirty had been killed, a number wounded, and three hundred arrested Pyeng-yang had been the centre of a particularly impressive movement, which had been sternly repressed. From the east coast, away at Hameung, there came similar tidings. The Japanese stated that things were quiet in the south until Wednesday, when there was an outbreak at Kun-san, led by the pupils of a Christian school. The Japanese at once seized on the participation of the Christians, the press declaring that the American missionaries were at the bottom of it. A deliberate attempt was made to stir up the Japanese population against the Americans. Numbers of houses of American missionaries and leaders of philanthropic work were searched. Several of them were called to the police offices and examined; some were stopped in the streets and searched. Unable to find any evidence against the missionaries, the Japanese turned on the Korean Christians. Soon nearly every Korean Christian pastor in Seoul was in jail; and news came from many parts of the burning of churches, the arrest of leading Christians, and the flogging of their congregations. The Japanese authorities, on pressure from the American consular officials, issued statements that the missionaries had nothing to do with the uprising, but in practice they acted as though the rising were essentially a Christian movement.