Читать книгу The History of Korea - Homer B. Hulbert - Страница 14

Table of Contents

Vicissitudes of Ko-gu-ryu … last Ma-han chief joins Sil-la. … Pak-je and Sil-la become sworn enemies … legend of Kye-rim. … Pak-je worsted. … Ko-gu-ryu’s strength on the increase. … Sil-la’s rapid growth. … Ka-ya attacks Sil-la. … Ko-gu-ryu make compact with Ye-mak. … Su-sŭng’s evil reign … roads in Sil-la. … Japanese raid … legend … an epicurean. … Pak-je’s victory … origin of government loans. … Yun-u’s trickery … capital of Ko-gu-ryu moved … wild tribes attack Sil-la … democratic ideas in Sil-la. … Ko-gu-ryu breaks with China … and attacks Sil-la. … China invades Ko-gu-ryu … the king retreats … relieved through treachery … capital of Ko-gu-ryu moved to P’yung-yang … beginning of feud between Korea and Japan … reforms in Pak-je … third century closes … progress of Sil-la … how Eul-bul became king of Ko-gu-ryuKo-gu-ryu … a noble lady of Sil-la isis sent to Japan.

Mu-hyŭl, the third king of Ko-gu-ryŭ died in 45, leaving the kingdom to the tender mercies of his son a worthless debauchee. Four years later he in turn made way for Hă-u, a member of a collateral branch of the family. Following the traditions ofof Ko-gu-ryŭ this ruler professed loyalty to China on the one hand and seizedseized all the Chinese territory he could lay hands on, on the other. In 54 he was assassinated by one Tu-no and the seven year old grandson of king Yu-ri was placed on the throne, a regent being appointed to carry on the government until the boy reached his majority. The good work continued. Ten forts were built in western Liao-tung to guard against Chinese advances, which shows that she had regained nearly all the territory she had lost at the hands of the parvenu Wang-mang. The following year she took formal possession of the territory of Ok-jŭ on the eastern coast.

In the year 58 Yu-ri, the third king of Sil-la died. He must not be confounded with Yu-ri the second king of Ko-gu-ryŭ. The sound is the same but the character is different. It was he who had the difference of opinion with Sŭk-t’al-hă in regard to the succession. As he died without issue the reins of government naturally passed into the hands of the aged statesman Sŭk-t’al-hă. He was sixty-two years old when he assumed the cares of royalty. In his fifth year the one remaining Ma-han chief, Măng-so, who had escaped the appetite of Păk-je, went over to Sil-la, as he concluded it was no longer possible to prolong a hopeless struggle againstagainst Păk-je. Pok-am fortress thus passed into the hands of Sil-la. Strange to say Păk-je not only did not resent this but even made overtures to Sil-la for a friendly meeting of their respective kings in the following year. Sil-la refused to sanction this, and the rebuff was too much for the equanimity of Păk-je. From that day the attitude of Păk-je toward Sil-la was one of studied hostility, broken only by an occasional spasmodic attempt at reconciliation. Among the three kingdoms, Sil-la was the only one that preserved her dignity intact and kept herself untainted by the charge either of avarice or pusilanimitypusilanimity.

The year 66 brought forth another of those wonders that embellishembellish the legendary lore of Korea. The king of Sil-la was wakened one night by the loud cackling of a hen, which seemed to come from a forest to the south. A messenger was sent to see what was the cause of the disturbance and he found a box hanging from the branch of a tree, while on the ground beneath it there cluttered a white hen. When the box was placed before the king and he had opened it a handsome child was found. It received the name Keum Yun-ji. Some say this Yŭn-ji was merely a part of the name while others affirm that it is a pure Sil-la word meaning “baby”. Up to this time the kingdom had been called Sŭ-ra-bŭl but now the king changed it to Kye-rim, kye meaning “hen” and rim meaning “woods.” So the kingdom was called “Hen in the Woods”, not a very dignified name but one, perhaps, that fitted well the military prowess of the kingdom.

In 68 Păk-je deemed herself strong enough to undertake operations against Sil-la. She began by seizing the fortress of Wa-san. She enjoyed possession of it for nine years but in the end she paid dear, for it was retaken by Sil-la and the Păk-je garrison was put to the sword. This year also saw a continuation of Ko-gu-ryŭ’s forward policy and the little settlement of Kal-sa which had been make by Pu-yŭ fugitives was absorbed. She followed this up by the conquest of Chu-ra farther north. Her military strength seems to have been on the rapid increase.

In 80 the great Sŭk-t’al-hă died and was succeeded by the son of King Nam-hă. He must have been of advanced age and yet not so old as to prevent his becoming the greatest conqueror that Sil-la ever produced. During the thirty-two years of his reign he added to the Sil-la crown the districts of Eum-jip-pŭl, Ap-to, Pi-ji, Ta-bŭl, Ch’o-p’al, and Sil-jik. These together with U-si and Kŭ-ch’il, which and been added the year before his accession, formed a considerable increase in the territory of the kingdom and added not a little to Sil-la’s reputation as a military power. This king, P’a-sa, was one of those men who seem to take hold of affairs by the right end and wring success from seeming failure. He was as great an administrator as he was mild a conqueror. He attended so carefully to the needs of the people that it is said that during most of his reign food was so plentiful that the wayfarer needed no money to pay for food or lodgings along the road.

The kingdom of Ka-ya, whose origin we noted in the previous chapter, now assumed the offensive against Sil-la. The first intimation we have of this is the fact that Sil-la in 88 built two forts named Ka-so and Ma-du, the first of which was to guard against the encroachments of Păk-je and the second to guard against those of Ka-ya. It was not till three years later that Ka-ya actually opened hostilities by inaugurating an expedition against Sil-la. As the event is not disclosed by the annalists we may conclude that it was unsuccessful.

Ko-gu-ryŭ now extended the field of her military operations. She made friends with the people of Ye-măk, to the east, and together with them began a series of raids into Chinese territory beyond the northern borders. The sixth king of Ko-gu-ryŭ, T’ă-jo Wang, had now reached the sixty-ninth year of his reign so he turned over to his brother, Su-sŭng, the administration of affairs. This brother was as ambitious as the king and continued the league with Ye-măk and the encroachments upon China. But he was disloyal to his brother and tried to form a combination against him. In this he was not successful. The reign of this T’ă-jo Wang was the longest one on record in Korean annals. He held the scepter ninety-four years, thereby sorely trying the patience of his heir apparent. That gentleman came to the throne at the green old age of seventy-six, in the year 147 A.D. He showed however that his memory had not yet failed him for one of his first acts was to arrestto arrest and put to death all the wise men who had chidden him for attempting to unseat his brother. Ko Pok-chang a celebrated scholar of that day was so overwhelmed in view of this barbarous act that he asked to be destroyed with the rest of the wise men, a wish that was probably granted. One day this singular monarch having seen a white fox cross his path, an evil omen, asked a soothsayer what it might portend. That individual suggested that if the king should reform even the worst of omens would turn out happily. The soothsayer lost his head as a result of his candor; but from that day on, whenever the king wanted to consult a soothsayer he found that they were all engaged in important work at some distant point.

King Il-seung of Sil-la whose reign began 134 was the first to pay attention to the building of good roads throughout the country. In his fifth year he built a road from his capital to Chuk-yŭn, now Pung-geui, and another one over Kye-ip Pass. These became very important thoroughfares. We also find that his successor continued this good work by opening roads throthro to the north of the kingdom. These kings were not many years behind the Romans in recognising the vast importance of good roads both for administrative and military purposes.

The relations between Sil-la and Japan are graphically described in the single statement that when someone circulated in the capital the rumor that a company of Japanese were coming the people fled precipitately from the city until it was half depopulated. When the mistake was discovered they gradually came back.

The interesting legend of Yŭng-o and Se-o belongs to the year 158, though it scarcely merits the “once upon a time” of a nursery tale. Yŭng-o a poor fisherman lived with his wife Se-o beside the waters of the Japan Sea on the eastern shore of Sil-la. One day as Yŭng-o was seated on a great boulder beside the water, fishing, he felt the rock tremble and then rise straight in air. He was carried, to his great consternation, eastward across the sea and deposited in a Japanese village. The Japanese folk took him for a god and made him their king at once. When his wife found that he did not return from fishing she went in search of him. Ascending the same rock that had carried him to Japan she experienced the same novel extradition that had so surprised her spouse. She found him metamorphosed into a king and was nothing loath to become queen. But their departure brought disaster to Sil-la for the sun and moon were darkened and the land was shrouded in gloom. The sooth-sayers said it was because someone had gone to Japan. An envoy was sent post haste to those islands in search of the fugitives, but found to his dismay that they had become king and queen of one of the kingdoms there. He told his story and besought them to return, but they seemed well satisfied with the change. Se-o however brought out a roll of silk and gave it to the envoy saying that if the king of Sil-la would spread it out and sacrifice upon it the light would return. The event proved the truth of her statement and when the king uttered the words of invocation the sunlight burst forth again and all was well. It is an interesting but melancholy fact that most of the arguments used to show a Korean origin of things Japanese are based upon evidence nearly if not quite as credible as this story. The Japanese work entitled the Kojiki bears the same relation to the carefully detailed history of Sil-la that the Niebelungenlied bears to the works of Tacitus.

When the time came for Su-sŭng, the sanguinary king of Ko-gu-ryŭ to die a young scapegrace by the name of Ch’a-da came to the throne. His idea of royalty was that it consisted in one long orgie. He attempted to carry out his ideal but was cut short within a year by the assassin’s knife. His motto, in his own words, was “Who does not wish to enjoy life?” Epicureanism may have existed in Korea before but it had never had so frank a disciple. Păk-ko a relative of the murdered king was called from a mountain fastness whither he had fled for safety. They had to ask him three times before they could convince him that it was not a mere decoy.

By the year 168 either Păk-je had grown so strong or Sil-la so weak that the former deemed it a fit time to make a grand demonstration all along Sil-la’s western border. It is said she carried back a thousand captives to grace her triumph. Sil-la, though filled with rage, was not in condition to return the compliment in kind. She however sent an urgent letter pointing out the advantages of peace and asking that the captives be returned. We may imagine how this was received by the proud army flushed as it must have been by an unwonted victory.

About this time was begun one of the ancient customs of Korea that has ever since exerted an important influence upon the life of the people. While hunting the king met a man weeping bitterly and upon being asked what was the matter replied that he had not a grain of food to give his parents. Thereupon the king gave him an order on the government granary with the understanding that when autumn came he should pay it back. Thus originated the whan-sang or custom of making government loans in the spring to be paid back with interest in the autumn. When this king died he was succeeded by the grandson of old Sŭk-t’al-hă. He took in hand the work of instilling new life into the well-nigh dead bones of Sil-la. His first action was to establish two military stations at the capital so that it might not be at the mercy of the first adventurer that might pass that way. He also ordered the people to pay less attention to the construction of fine government buildings and more to agriculture, the back bone of the state.

Nam-mu the tenth king of Ko-gu-ryŭ died at night and the queen, desiring to gain an extension of her power, slipped out of the palace and hastened to the house of the king’s oldest brother Pal-gi. She stated the case and urged him to hasten to the palace and assume the royal prerogative. He refused to believe that the king was dead and accused her of immodesty. She then hurried to the house of the younger brother Yŭn-u and repeated the story. The young man accompanied her and when morning broke it was found that he was established in the palace and ready to meet all comers. Pal-gi raged and cursed. He stormed the palace with his retainers, but being unsuccessful, was fain to beat a retreat to Liao-tung.

The dawn of the third century saw the three states of Korea in the same relative position as before. Ko-gu-ryŭ was still the same ambitious military power, Păk-je was still her own worst enemy though flaunting for the time being in the gay colors of a temporal triumph, Sil-la was plodding along quietly paying more attention to internal improvements and so earning the right which she afterward enjoyed of holding sway over the whole peninsula. The first twenty-five years of the century witnessed unusual activity on the part of the surrounding savages who in view of the constantly increasing power of the three states beheld their territories diminishing. The wild people of Kol-p’o, Chil-p’o and Ko-p’o ravaged the borders of Sil-la but were driven back. On the south she attacked and burned a settlement of Japanese corsairs who had apparently gained a foothold on the mainland. Păk-je was also attacked on the east by the savages and was obliged to build a wall at Sa-do to keep them back. This period saw over a thousand Chinese refugees cross the Yalu and find asylum in Ko-gu-ryŭ. It also saw U-wi-gŭ, the fruit of a liaison between the eleventh king of Ko-gu-ryŭ and a farmer girl whom he met while hunting, ascend the throne of Ko-gu-ryŭ. It witnessed a remarkable exhibition of democratic feeling in Sil-la when the people rejected Prince Sa-ba-ni and in his place set up Ko-i-rŭ to be king.

The year 240 was an important one in the history of Ko-gu-ryŭ. King U-wi-gŭ was a man of boundless ambition and his temerity was as great as his ambition. Ko-gu-ryŭ had been at peace with China for eight years when, without warning, this U-wi-gŭ saw fit to cross the border and invade the territory of his powerful neighbor. The town of An-p’yŭng-hyŭn in western Liao-tung fell before the unexpected assault. This unprovoked insult aroused the slumbering giant of the Middle Kingdom and the hereditary feud that had existed for many years between Ko-gu-ryŭ and China was intensified. At the same time U-wi-gŭ turned his eyes southward and contemplated the subjugation of Sil-la. To this end he sent an expedition against her in the following year. It was met on the Sil-la border by a defensive force under Gen. Sŭk U-ro who withstood the invaders bravely but was driven back as far as the “Palisades of Ma-du” where he took a firm stand. As he could not be dislodged the invading army found itself checked. Meanwhile a dark cloud was rapidly overspreading Ko-gu-ryŭ’s western horizon. The great Chinese general, Mo Gu-geum, with a force of 10,000 men advanced upon the Ko-gu-ryŭ outposts and penetrated the country as far as the present Sŭng-ch’ŭn where he met the Ko-gu-ryŭ army under the direct command of king U-wi-gŭ. The result was an overwhelming victory for Ko-gu-ryŭ whose soldiers chased the flying columns of the enemy to Yang-băk-kok where dreadful carnage ensued. “Whom the gods would destroy they first make mad” proved true in this case. U-wi-gŭ was so elated over the victory that he declared that a handful of Ko-gu-ryŭ troops could chase an army of Chinese. Taking five hundred picked cavalry he continued the pursuit; but he had boasted too soon. Gen. Mo Gu-geum’s reputation was at stake. Rallying a handful of his braves the latter turned upon his pursuers and handled them so severely that they turned and fled. The Chinese followed up the timely victory and threw themselves upon the army of Ko-gu-ryŭ so fiercely that the tables were completely turned. It is said that in the engagement that followed Ko-gu-ryŭ lost 18,000 men. King U-wi-gŭ, seeing that all was lost, fled back to his capital and awaited developments. But Gen. Wang-geui, Mo Gu-geum’s associate, pursued the king across the Yalu and gave him no rest until he had fled eastward to the territory of Ok-jŭ on the eastern coast. On his way thither he crossed Chuk-nyŭng Pass where all his remaining guard forsook him and fled. One of his officials, Mil-u, said “I will go back and hold the enemy at bay while you make good your escape”. So with three or four soldiers he held the narrow pass while the king found a retreat in a deep valley, where he succeeded in getting together a little band of soldiers. He offered a reward to anyone who should go and bring Mil-u safely to him. U Ok-ku volunteered to go. Finding Mil-u wounded and lying on the ground he took him in his arms and carried him to the king. The latter was so delighted to recover his faithful follower that he nursed him back to life by his own hand. A few days later the pursuit continued and the king was again hard pressed. A courtiercourtier, Yu-ryu, offered to go to the enemy’s camp and in some way stop the pursuit. Taking some food he went and boldly announced that the king desired to surrender and had sent this gift ahead to announce his coming. His words were believed and the general received the gift. But Yu-ryu had concealed a short sword beneath the dishes and when he approached the general he whipped out the weapon and plungedplunged it into the enemy’s breast. The next moment he himself was cut down by the attendants. When the king learned that the pursuers had lost their general he rallied his little force, threw himself upon them and put them to flight. The following year U-wi-gŭ, recognising that his capital was too near the border, decided to remove the court to P‘yŭng-yang which had been the capital for so many centuries. Two years later helater he made a treaty with Sil-la which remained unbroken for a century. He had been cured of some of his over-ambitiousness. Yŭn-bul was his successor.

InIn the third year of King Ch’ŭm-hă of Sil-la, 249 A.D. the first envoy ever received from Japan arrived at the shore of Sil-la. He was met by Gen. Sŭk U-ro who addressed him in the following unaccountable manner, “It would be well if your king and queen should come and be slaves in the kitchen of the king of Sil-la”. Without a word the envoy turned about and posted back to Japan. An invasion of Korea was determined upon and soon a powerful force landed on the coast of that country. Gen. Sŭk U-ro was filled with dismay and remorse. He confessed to the king that he was the cause of this hostile display and begged to be allowed to go alone and propitiate the advancing enemy. It was granted and he walked straight into the Japanese camp and confessed his crime and asked that he alone be punished. The Japanese took him at his word, burned him alive in their camp and returned to their own land without striking a blow. The following year the same envoy came again and was well received by the king, but the widow of Gen. Sŭk U-ro desiring to avenge the blood of her husband, obtained permission to work in the kitchen of the envoy’s place of entertainment. There she found opportunity to poison his food and thus accomplish her purpose. This of course put an end to all hope of amity between the two countries and that event marks the beginning of the feud which in spite of occasional periods of apparent friendship, existed between the people of Japan and Korea until the year 1868. Hostilities did not however beginbegin at once.

The latter half of the third century beheld few events of special interest in the peninsula. During this period Păk-je seems to have made a spasmodic effort at reform, for we read that she reorganised her official system and set a heavy penalty for bribery, namely imprisonment for life. She also patched up a shallow peace with Sil-la. In Ko-gu-ryŭ a concubine of King Pong-sang tried to incense him against the queen by showing him a leathern bag which she claimed the queen had made to drown her in. The king saw through the trick and to punish the crafty concubine had her killed in the very way she had described. A chief of the Sŭn-bi tribe invaded Ko-gu-ryŭ and desecrated the grave of the king’s father. The wild men of Suk-sin attempted to overthrow Sil-la but the king’s brother drove them back and succeeded in attaching their territory to the crown of Sil-la. It is said that when Sil-la was hard pressed by a band of savages strange warriors suddenly appeared and after putting the savages to flight, as suddenly disappeared. Each of these strange warriors had ears like the leaves of the bamboo and when it was discovered next day that the ground around the king’s father’s grave was covered with bamboo leaves it was believed that he had come forth from his grave with spirit warriors to aid his son.

With the opening of the fourth century the fifteenth king of Sil-la, Ki-rim, made an extensive tour of his realm. He passed northward as far as U-du-ju near the present Ch’un-ch’ŭn. He also visited a little independent “kingdom” called Pi-ryul, now An-byŭn, and made many presents, encouraged agriculture and made himself generally agreeable. Not so with the king of Ko-gu-ryŭ. He was made of sterner stuff. He issued a proclamation that every man woman and child above fifteen years old should lend their aid in building a palace. Ko-gu-ryŭ had of late years passed through troublous times and the people were in no mood to undertake such a work. An influential courtier, Ch’ang Cho-ri, attempted to dissuade the king but as he was not successful he settled the question by assassinating the king. Eul-bul, who succeeded him, had a chequered career before coming to the throne. Being the king’s cousin he had to flee for his life. He first became a common coolie in the house of one Eun-mo in the town of Sil-la. By day he cut wood on the hill sides and by night he made tiles or kept the frogs from croaking while his master slept. Tiring of this he attached himself to a salt merchant but being wrongfully accused he was dragged before the magistrate and beaten almost to death. The official Ch’ang Cho-ri and a few others knew his whereabouts and, hunting him up, they brought him to the “Pul-yu water” a hundred and ten li from P’yŭng-yang, and hid him in the house of one O Măk-nam. When all was ripe for the final move, Ch’ang Cho-ri inaugurated a great hunting party. Those who were willing to aid in dethroning the king were to wear a bunch of grass in the hat as a sign. The king was seized and imprisoned, and there hanged himself. His sons also killed themselves and Eul-bul was then elevated to the perilous pinnacle of royalty.

It was about the beginning of this century also that the Japanese, during one of those spasmodic periods of seeming friendship asked the king of Sil-la to send a noble maiden of Sil-la to be their queen. The king complied and sent the daughter of one of his highest officials, A-son-geup-ri.