Читать книгу The History of Korea - Homer B. Hulbert - Страница 27

Table of Contents

Revenue … mathematics … the bridge removed … friends with China again. … Confucianism wanes. … Buddhist book from Japan … frontier defence … prophecy. … Han-yang made a secondary capital … new laws … cash counterfeited. … Yŭ-jin taken … botany … beginnings of the Kin power … between Kitan and Kin … kingdom of Wŭn. … China allies herself with Kitan. … Kin seeks the good will of Koryŭ … dancing-girls and Buddhism. … Kin demands Koryŭ alliance … refused … defense of the north … an ambitious official. … Kitan falls. … Sung dynasty falls … harbor improvement. … Buddhist trickery … rebellion quelled … historical work, Sam-guk-sa … an abject king. … Kin immigrants … a good governor for Quelpart … military faction dominant … criminals, houses destroyed … king banished … a plot foiled … the emperor suspicious … military and monastic factions … attempted revolution … monastic revolt.

It is evident that population and revenue are proportionate. Not often is the question of population touched upon in the Korean annals but some light is thrown upon it by the statement that at this time the revenue from the north, from the most distant places only, was 49,000 bags of rice. From this we must infer that the north was fairly well populated.

An interesting point in connection with the mathematical knowledge of the time is brought out in the statement that the system of land tax was changed and was collected at a certain rate per each square of thirty-three paces; but if the field was large the tax was a certain amount for each tract forty-seven paces square. The square of thirty-three is 1089 and the square of forty-seven is 2209, which is the nearest possible to twice the square of thirty-three. It would seem then that they had some notion of the properties of geometrical figures.

It was about this time that Kitan changed its name to Yo. She at once sent an envoy announcing the fact. These were the golden days of Koryŭ’s relations. The Yŭ-jin tribe of To-ryŭng-ko-do-wha came and swore allegiance as also did the Chang-man and Tu-hul tribes. A few years later a Japanese ruler named Sal-ma sent gifts to the Koryŭ court as also did the people of Tsushima.

During the latter years of this reign the Kitan people were induced to break down the bridge across the Yalu but it was done only by sending anan abject letter in which the Koryŭ king said “As all the world is yours and all the people in the world belong to you, you have no need of a bridge to bind us to you.”

In 1077 an envoy came from the Emperor of China (Sung dynasty) asking aid against the Kitan. The king might well have turned and answered that as the Emperor had remained deaf to Koryŭ’s entreaties for help so now Koryŭ would decline to respond. But he did nothing of the kind; this opportunity to reëstablish friendly relations with China was hailed with delight by all classes. The king, though ill, was carried on his bed outside the city walls to meet this welcome messenger. The latter was treated royally and was loaded with so many gifts that he could not take them back with him. He had no intention, however, of leaving them entirely, for he sold them and took the money instead. This sort of thrift was something new to the Koreans and they showed their disgust by ridiculing him; and when he left they spat upon the ground in token of their contempt. We are not told that Koryŭ gave the aid requested. And yet the friendly relations were continued, as is seen from the fact that in 1079 the emperor sent physicians and medicines to Koryŭ. We have here the first definite mention of gold mining in the statement that the people of Hong-wŭn dug a hundred ounces of gold and a hundred and fifty ounces of silver, which they sent to the king. He graciously gave it back to them.

In 1084 the king died and his adopted son Hun, posthumous title Sun-jong, came to the throne; but he died almost immediately and was succeeded the same year by his younger brother Un, posthumous title Sŭn-jong. When the messenger announcing this arrived at the gates of the Kitan capital he was refused entrance, for they said there must be some underlying cause for the sudden death of king Sun-jong.

Under the new king, Buddhism continued its rapid advance. In the first year of his reign he instituted a Buddhist examination to take the place of the ordinary examination which was at bottom Confucian; and so Buddhism scored a decided victory over her rival. It was a blow from which Confucianism recovered only by the extinction of the dynasty. These examinations the king attended in person, a Buddhist book being carried before him. He sent the prince to China to learn more about the tenets of the popular faith and when he returned the king went out to welcome him home. The young man brought back 1,000 volumes of Buddhistic books. Later the king secured 4,000 volumes more from the same source. The records distinctly state that he sent also to Japan to secure still other Buddhistic books. This is a strong indication that Japan did not obtain her Buddhism largely from Korea. It proves at least that she had a more direct channel for the procuring of Buddhist literature than by way of Korea, otherwise Koryŭ would hardly have applied to her for books. The king married his own sister. The bridge across the Yalu had been destroyed but it would seem that it had been again built, for now in 1088 the records say it was finally destroyed.

King Sŭn-jong could not do enough for Buddhism. A vast amount of government rice was turned from its legitimate uses and found its way into the store-rooms of monasteries. The king constructed a thirteen-storey pagoda in the palace. His mother made frequent visits to one of the monasteries.

The only act of this king which was not with special reference to Buddhism was the stationing at Eui-ju of a large number of war chariots to be used in defense of the frontier.

In 1095 the king was succeeded by his son Uk, posthumous title Hön-jong, who was only eleven years old. His uncle Ong become regent but proved unfaithful and in the following year drove the boy from the throne and proclaimed himself king. His title was Suk-jong. The most important events of his reign were in connection with the founding of a second capital as Han-yang, the present Seoul. The monk TosunTosun who, it will be remembered, had taught the young Wang-gön the science of war, had also left a prophecy to the effect that after 160 years it would be well for the kingdom if the site of the capital be changed. The preliminary arrangements were made early in this reign but it was not until the year 1104 that a palace was actually constructed there, nor was the royal residence changed either at this time or at any later period, for any considerable length of time. A few important laws were promulgated; that if relatives intermarried they could not receive official position; that the nomination of an heir to the throne should be made only after consultation with the court of the northern suzerain; that candidates who failed to pass the government examinations should be solaced by receiving military rank.

It is said that in 1100 copper cash had begun to circulate for the first time with freedom among the people. Buddhism also made material advances during this reign and riveted its fetters more firmly upon the body politic. On the whole it was a very clean reign, when we remember that a usurper was on the throne.

In 1106 Suk-jong’s son U, posthumous title Ye-jong, came to the throne. At the very first he was confronted by a new problem. The people had yet to learn that the coinage of money is a purely government monopoly. The readiness with which cash circulated tempted some to attempt to counterfeit it. The king consequently promulgated a law inflicting a heavy penalty upon this offense and at the same time made a law against the adulteration of food.

Having, in his third year, married a near relative he took as a teacher a monk named Un-jin, another indication of the steady progress of that cult. The talk about the change of site for the capital resulted in the building of a palace at P‘yŭng-yang and several royal progresses to each of the proposed sites.

The tribe of Yŭ-jin had repeatedly promised to remain peaceful and had as often broken their word; so now when they began to grow restless again, the king decided to make an end of the matter. He sent a strong force into their territory, killed 4,800 men and took several thousand prisoners. The territory was divided into four administrative districts.

In 1115 the king developed a fad. He became an enthusiastic botanist. He ransacked the kingdom for rare and beautiful plants and sent them to China in exchange for many kinds that were not indigenous.

We have now arrived at the threshold of events which were destined to result in the founding of a great dynasty. In order to explain we must go back a few years. Early in this dynasty a Koryŭ monk from P‘yŭng-yang, named Keum-jun, had fled, for some reason not stated, to the town of A-ji-go among the Yŭ-jin tribe. He had there married a Yŭ-jin woman and gotten a son whom he named Ko-eul. He in turn begot Whal-ra, and to him were born many sons, the eldest of whom was Hyo-ri-bal and the second Yong-ga. The latter was unusually bright and popular and eventually became chief; but on his death the son of his brother Hyo-ri-bal, named O-a-sok, took his place. O-a-sok died and his younger brother, A-gol-t‘a, became chief. Yŭ-jin was at this time a small weak tribe under the sway of the Ki-tan court, but now the masterly genius of A-gol-t‘a had come to her help, matters were destined to assume a different complexion.

It was now in 1114 that the little tribe of Yŭ-jin broke off its allegiance to Kitan and prepared to carve out a career for herself under her great leader. Soon an envoy came in haste from the capital of Kitan commanding the king to stand ready to drive back the Yŭ-jin tribe if they attempted to escape into his territory, for the emperor of Kitan was about to chastise his recalcitrant vassal.

The next year A-gol-t‘a with sublime presumption proclaimed himself emperor and named his kingdom Kin. At the same time he changed his own name to Min.

The Kitan emperor sent again demanding a contingent of Koryŭ troops. After anxious consultation it was decided to keep the soldiers near home and guard the interests of Koryŭ. In the war between Kitan and Kin the former were severely handled and again appealed to Koryŭ for help, but now with no hope of success.

The next year, 1116, a Koryŭ envoy Yun Eun-sun was sent to the Kitan court but he did not return, so a second one was dispatched to learn the cause. The fact is, the first envoy had fallen into the hands of a new power named Wŭn which had been set up in eastern Kitan by a man named Ko Yöng-ch‘ang. War was still raging between Kitan and Kin and the whole country was in a state of turmoil and confusion. The second envoy from Koryŭ fell into the hands of the Wŭn people but got out of the difficulty by promptly stating that he was accredited to them by the king of Koryŭ; and he forthwith laid out his present. This made the upstart “emperor” of Wŭn wild with delight and, loading the envoy with rich presents, he sent him back home. Instead of going back to the king, however, the envoy returned secretly to his own home, and it was only by accident that the king learned of his return. When he did learn of it he sent for the man and inflicted summary punishment. Of course the Wŭn people liberated the other envoy and sent him home. Him also the king punished for having saved his life by seemingly offering allegiance to Wŭn.

The emperor of China sent an envoy to Koryŭ with gifts of musical instruments and took advantage of the occasion to ask the Koryŭ king about the Kitan people. The king answered, “Of all the savage tribes they are the worst.” When this reply reached the Chinese court some of the courtiers said that the king of Koryŭ was trying to keep China from knowing Kitan, since there was treasure there which Koryŭ wanted to secure for herself. The emperor therefore sent and made an alliance with Kitan, which, as the sequel shows, cost him dear.

Kitan was being hard pressed by Kin, and Gen. Ya Ryul-lyŭng wanted to escape and find asylum somewhere, so the king sent him a verbal invitation to come to Koryŭ. He replied that he could not do so without a written invitation. The Koryŭ statesmen feared that this covered some kind of trickery and the written invitation was not sent.

Koryŭ desired to put out a feeler to see how she stood with the Kin power so she sent a message saying “The district of P‘o-ju is rightfully Koryŭ territory and we should be pleased to have it turned over to us.” The answer was given without an hour’s delay “Certainly, take it and do with it as you wish.” Evidently the great Kin leader did not intend to let a single district stand between him and the good-will of a power which might cause him serious trouble while he was prosecuting his designs upon China.

The year ended with a great feast at the capital of Koryŭ at which dancing girls from all parts of the country congregated. The records say that they came “in clouds” which indicates the social status of the country. Buddhism had her representative in every home, but no severe asceticism would seem to have characterized the people, if this report is true.

The year 1117 beheld repeated triumphs of the Kin leader over the Kitan forces, the flight of the Kitan general Ya Ryul-lyŭng by boat, the burning of the Kitan fleet and the cession to Koryŭ of two more districts, thus placing her border again at the Yalu River. But this concession was of design for it was followed by a letter from the Kin court which read as follows: “The elder brother, the Emperor of the Great Kin, to the younger brother, the king of Koryŭ; we were a small, weak tribe and were badly treated by the Kitan power but now we are about to destroy it. The King of Koryŭ must now make with us a firm treaty which shall be binding to the ten thousandth generation.”

This met with an almost universal negative among the wise-heads of Koryŭ, but one voice was heard saying “They may be in a position to do us great harm and we should comply with this demand.” The latter opinion did not prevail. Three years later another envoy came from the king of Kin with gifts but the accompanying letter was couched in low language which was construed into an insult and was answered in the same tone. The king then hastened to repair the fortresses in the north and to increase the height of the wall stretching across the country; but the Kin emperor sent and forbade it. When he received as answer the question “What affair is it of yours?” he kept his temper and did not press the demand for he was anxious just then to be on good terms with his southern neighbor.

We must not imagine that these years were barren of events of importance within the bounds of Koryŭ herself. Splendid monasteries were built, notably the beautiful An-wha monastery; embassies and gifts were received from China; the king made trips to P‘yŭng-yang and Han-yang. In spite of the height to which Buddhism had climbed, we read in the annals that the king frequented the society of dancing girls to such an extent that he drew down upon himself the censure of one of his highest officials, whom he consequently banished.

In 1123 the king’s son Hă, posthumous title In-jong, came to the throne. An official, Yi Ja-gyŭm, who had risen to the highest position under the former king seemed to think himself in a sense on an equality with the young king now on the throne, and wanted to have him bow to him, but the other officials interfered and prevented it. In order to make his position the more secure, and to strengthen his influence over the king, Yi Ja-gyŭm bestowed upon him his four daughters to wife. Naturally he incurred the bitter enmity of the other officials, who sought means for destroying him, but without success. As a last resort they sent a band of soldiers to the palace to kill him. But he escaped to his private house, taking the king with him. From that place he governed the land as he wished. Finding the king an incumbrance he tried to do away with him by the use of poisoned bread, but someone warned the king, and instead of eating the bread he threw it out of the window and the magpies, which soon discovered it, fell dead on the spot. Thereupon the king sent a secret message to one of his generals and soon the traitor was travelling southward into exile and all his connections and followers were put where they could do no more harm.

It was in the third year of this King, 1124, that the Kin armies finally overthrew the Kitan power. The false report came to Koryŭ that China had defeated the Kin forces and that the leader of the defeated power was coming to find asylum in Koryŭ. The king was advised by some to take this opportunity of dealing Kin a staggering blow, but the more cautious advised delay until the report should be authenticated. This was fortunate, for the report proved false.

It was in 1126 that the northern Sung dynasty came to an end at the hands of the all-conquering Kin. The records state that Kin leaders carried the last emperor of the Sung dynasty away and set up one Chang Pang-ch‘ang as king in his stead, and changed the name of the dynasty to Ch‘o. When this had been effected the Kin emperor sent Gen. Ya Ryul Ka-geum to Koryŭ bearing his commands to the king, but what those commands were the records do not tell.

The influence which priestcraft had exercised in Koryŭ was well illustrated by a monk Myo-chung of P‘yŭng-yang who told the King that there was no more “king Spirit” in the soil of Song-do, but if he should move the capital to P‘yŭng-yang the Kitan, Kin and Sung would all become subject to him. The king believed every word of this and ordered a palace to be built there for his occupancy. A year or so later, after sending the Kin court his abject submission, he essayed to move to the northern city by boat, but a fresh breeze sprang up and he quickly changed his mind and hurried back to Song-do. The coastwise trade must have been of considerable importance, for we read that the water on the bar at Hong-ju harbor, was too shallow for boats of large burden to cross, so the king put several thousand men to work to deepen the channel; but to no effect.

The fight between Confucianism and Buddhism went steadily on. The king was the puppet of the latter but could not always carry out his plans. He wanted to take away the support of Confucian schools and turn over the funds to the monks, but this called out such a storm of remonstrances that he hastened to recall the order. He had not forgotten the flattering words of the monk Myo-chung, and now in 1130 he took occasion to visit the city of P‘yŭng-yang. The tricky monk had made preparation for his coming. Hollow loaves of bread were prepared with holes in their sides after the style of a Jack-o’-lantern. Oil was placed inside and as the king approached the town at dusk these were floated down the stream, and the oil on the water, shining in the light of the setting sun, reflected all the hues of the rainbow. The monk told the king that this was the dragon’s breath. This was to convince the king of the truth of his former statement. But the king’s attendants were sceptical and sent messengers who returned with the bread floats, thus unmasking the trickster. They demanded the head of the monk but the king did not consent.

Foiled in this the ambitious monk laid new plans. In 1135 they were ready to be put in execution. Together with a fellow traitor, Cho Kwang, he massed soldiers at P‘yŭng-yang and set up a kingdom of his own which he named Ta-wi. He called the army the “Celestial Army,” perhaps to keep them in good humor. The government forces easily overcame these insurrectionary forces and Cho Kwang, finding that the end was approaching, tried to buy pardon by cutting off the head of the monk and bringing it to the capital. The king forgave him, but no sooner had he re-entered the gates of P‘yŭng-yang than he raised the standard of revolt again. The royal forces laid siege to the city, and having broken down a portion of the wall effected an entrance. Cho Kwang, seeing that there was no longer any chance of safety, set fire to his house and perished in the flames.

We find in the records the curious statement that the law against murder was revised, making that crime a greater one than the killing of a cow. The following year there was a Buddhistic festival at which 30,000 monks were present.

In the year 1145 occurred an event of great importance. A century and a quarter had now passed since the kingdom of Sil-la had fallen and as yet the annals of Sil-la, Ko-gu-ryŭ and Păk-je had not been worked up into a proper history. This year it was done and the great work entitled Sam-guk-sa, or History of the Three Kingdoms, was the result. This work which, though rare, exists to-day, is the thesaurus of ancient Korean history, and it is the basis upon which all subsequent histories of ancient Korea are founded. Its compiler, Kim Pu-sik, is one of the celebrated literary men of Korea and may truly be called the father of Korean history.

In-jong was succeeded in 1147 by his son Hyön, posthumous title Eui-jong. Never before had a king given himself over so abjectly to the priesthood. The people were thoroughly discontented with his course, but he would listen to no remonstrances. It would have been better had he been a more consistent Buddhist but his drinking, gambling and licentiousness gave the lie to his religious pretentions and left the impression that he was in reality only the tool of the priesthood. It is said that his visits to a certain monastery were so frequent that an awning had to be erected from the palace to its gates, and if at any time the king was not to be found they looked for him in this monastery. He was an object of ridicule to the whole people. A diviner told him that if he built a palace at Păk-ju (now Pă-ch‘ŭn) in Whang-hă Province, in seven years he would overcome both Kitan and Kin. The king was simple enough to follow his advice. He wasted the public treasure on the wildest debaucheries, gave high positions to monks and surrounded himself with a vile set of men who debauched the palace women.

In 1165 numbers of the Kin people crossed the Yalu and settled at In-ju and Chŭng-ju. The magistrates raised a force of soldiers on their own account without royal authority and drove out the intruders and burned their houses. The Kin emperor made the king restore them to their places but the magistrates again drove them out; so the Emperor sent a body of troops and seized sixteen of the country officials.

The officials desired to stop the king’s frequent visits to his favorite monastery. One day as he was passing along his covered passage-way they made his horse rear violently and at the same time one of them let fall an arrow before him. The king was terrified, supposing that someone had shot at him, so he returned to the palace in haste and barred the gates. He charged a slave of his brother’s with having shot the arrow and after wringing a false confession from him by torture put him to death.

In 1168 Ch’oe Ch’ŭk-kyŭng became prefect of T’am-na (Quelpart). He was well liked by the people and when he was removed and another man put in his place they rose in revolt, drove out the successor and said they would have no governor but Ch’oe. So the King was obliged to reinstate him. These people of Quelpart were very unruly. It was only during the reign of this king’s father that the first prefect had been sent to that island.

The king sent a commission to Dagelet island off the east coast to find out whether it was habitable. They brought back an adverse report.

Besides his partiality to Buddhism the king added another burden to those which the people already carried. He made the eunuchs his instruments to exact money from the people, and to such as supplied him with the most money from this illegal practice he gave rank and honors. The king was continually feasting, but none of the military men enjoyed his favor or shared his hospitality. Matters came to a crisis when in 1170 one of the military officials was struck by a civil official of a lower grade in the presence of the king while at a monastery outside the city. The matter was hushed up for the moment but when the company separated some of the generals assembled the palace guards and seized and killed the two leading civil officials. One, Han Roe, escaped and hid behind the king’s bed. In spite of this the generals entered and dragged him away to his death. Then they began to slaughter the civil officials and eunuchs indiscriminately. The records say that the dead bodies were piled “mountains high.” The military officials had a sign by which they might be distinguished. The right shoulder was left bare and they wore a head-dress called the pok-tu. Whoever was found lacking these two signs was cut down. The king was in mortal fear and tried to propitiate the leading general by the gift of a beautiful sword. He accepted it but the work of death went on. They took the king back to the capital and, arriving at the palace, cut down ten leading men at that point. Then they went to the palace of the crown prince and killed ten more. Proclamation was made in the main street “Kill any official wearing the garments of the civil rank”. This was the sign for a general slaughter and fifty more of the officials were murdered. After this, twenty eunuchs were beheaded and their heads were set upon pikes.

Though the king was badly frightened he continued his evil course of life without abatement. The generals wanted to kill him but were dissuaded. The persecution of the civil officials continued but there was some discrimination, for two of them who were better than the rest were spared and protected. A civil official, returning from China, learned oflearned of this emeute and, gathering forces in the country, approached the capital; but at a certain pass an unfavorable omen was seen in the shape of a tiger sitting in the road. The omen was true, for the improvised army was defeated by the insurrectionists. One Chöng Chung-bu was the leading spirit in this business and he now proceeded to pull down all the houses of the civil officials, turning a deaf ear to the expostulations of those who pitied the widows and orphans. From this time dates the custom of destroying the house of any official or gentleman who is guilty of any serious crime against the king.

Gen. Chöng came to the conclusion that the king was a hopeless case and so he banished him to Kö-je in Island, Kyŭng-sang Province, and the Crown Prince to the island of Chin-do, and made way with a large number of the king’s relatives and hangers-on. He then put the king’s younger brother Ho on the throne. His posthumous title is Myŭng-jong. This was in 1171.

Then all the offices were filled by military officials, Gen. Im Keuk-ch’ung becoming Prime Minister. Mun Keup-kyŭm was one of the civil officials who were spared, and he now feigned to be well content with the condition of things and gave his daughter to the son of one of the generals in marriage. An envoy was sent to the Kin court saying that as the king was old and sick his brother had been given the reins of power.

One of the generals, Yi Ko, desired to effect a revolution and, gathering his friends about him, promised them high honors in case the attempt should succeed. Thereupon he took with him to a feast a number of his followers with swords hidden in their sleeves. Gen. Ch’oa Wŭn, however, suspected something and communicated his suspicions to Gen. Yi Eui-bang who managed to get Gen. Yi Ko out into the anteroom and there felled him to the ground with an iron mace and dispatched him. His followers were also seized and killed.

The emperor suspected that the deposed king had been forcibly ejected and so sent a letter severely blaming his successor. An envoy was dispatched to the Kin court to explain matters. He talked well but the emperor still suspected something and refused to answer the king’s letter. The envoy thereupon sat down and deliberately began to starve himself to death. This secured the desired answer and the envoy returned to Song-do. The emperor sent a commission to enquire into the matter. The commissioner was feasted at the capital and told that the deposed king was old and sick and had gone away to a distant part of the country and could not be produced.

The ill-will between the military and the monks was well illustrated when the palace caught fire. General Chöng saw many monks running toward the burning buildings, but rather than have them enter he locked the gates and let the buildings burn to the ground.

The remnant of the civil officers were ever on the lookout for opportunities to get the upper hand again and drive out the military party. To this end Kim Po-dang sent letters to prefects far and wide and a time for a rising was agreed upon. The banished king was put in the van of the army thus improvised and they advanced as far as Kyöng-ju. But the plan miscarried and Kim, its originator, was seized by the people and sent to Song-do where he was put to death. Before dying he exclaimed “I was in league with all the civil nobles.” This was probably not true, but it caused a fresh outbreak of the military party upon the civil nobles, and scores of them were killed. At last a reaction set in and the military leaders, feeling that they had gone too far, tried to make amends by giving their daughters to the sons of the civil officials in marriage.

At this point occurred one of the most revolting events that blot the pages of Korean history. Gen. Chöng, hearing that the banished king had come as far as Kyöng-ju sent Gen. Yi Eui-mun to put him out of the way. After the leader and two hundred members of the ex-king’s guard had been treacherously killed the ex-king himself was spirited away to a neighboring monastery. He was taken out to the brink of a pond behind this monastery and there Gen. Yi, who was a man of immense stature, seized him in his arms and crushed his ribs, killing him instantly. The body was wrapped in blankets, placed in two kettles, which were placed mouth to mouth, and thrown into the pond. When this monster, Gen. Yi, returned to Song-do he was loaded with honors. Later a monk, who was a good swimmer, raised the body and gave it decent burial.

In spite of the overwhelming power exercised by the military party, the king was devoted to Buddhism. The monks were very anxious to kill Gen. Yi, who had taken such an active part in deposing the late king; so they massed in front of the palace and set fire to it by first firing the adjoining houses. Gen. Yi made a sudden sally with a strong guard and killed a hundred of the monks. He followed this up by demolishing five monasteries whose sacred vessels and other utensils he confiscated.