Donkeys were once a source of pride in Joseon -- at least according to Horace Allen, the U.S. minister to Korea, who wrote:
"Formerly, when a man had attained a certain rank he might ride a donkey. This gentle animal therefore became the pride of the hearts of the lesser officials. A donkey with a good loud bray and a tendency to exercise his vocal organs was most highly prized, since every one near would, on hearing the noise, realize at once that that was the house of an official, while the less favored neighbors would take pride to themselves from the thus loudly proclaimed fact that theirs was a donkey neighborhood."
An ass was also one of the first financial transactions of the Hanseong (now Shinhan) Bank. A merchant used his donkey as collateral, causing the bank some consternation as to how to treat the animal until the debt could be paid.
Not only were donkeys status symbols and financial collateral, they were also a cure. In the 19th century, pertussis was quite common in Korea and was commonly known as "donkey cough" because of the sound an inflicted person made when they coughed -- the same reason Westerners called it the "whooping cough."
The disease took a heavy toll, especially upon children, but wasn't confined by age. Joseon records seem to indicate it was sometimes used as an excuse by court officials wishing to resign from office.
There were several folk remedies for the disease -- including an elixir made from pumpkins -- but it was the one involving donkeys that caught the attention of U.S. missionary doctors.
One day in 1897, Dr. William B. McGill, an American Methodist missionary physician in Wonsan, was in his dispensary when a Korean woman came in seeking relief for her young child who was suffering from donkey cough. McGill inquired as to whether or not she had received treatment elsewhere, to which she replied she had given the sick child a remedy of donkey hair but it had given the child no relief.
Somewhat confused, he later wrote that this odd treatment was possibly a "Korean homeopathy." Other missionaries and wrote about their own experiences with amusement and disbelief.
The most literal application of "the hair of the dog being good for the bite" in Korea, wrote Anabel Major Nisbet, is when a Korean mother ties hair from a donkey's tail around her child's neck to alleviate the cough.
In 1907, Dr. Douglas Follwell (stationed in Pyongyang) even seemed to playfully encourage this folk remedy: "Too often patients use their own judgment in giving treatment contrary to the physician's orders, but it is refreshing sometimes to find one who is faithful in the discharge of his or her duty. The wife of Mr. Moore's gateman brought her baby to the dispensary to be treated for donkey cough, whooping cough. Medicine was given, and I casually enquired of the mother whether she had taken her baby to kiss the donkey. The woman replied in the negative and took her departure. Returning after four days for more medicine she remarked that her husband had held Mr. Moore's donkey while she had had the baby kiss the animal. This very effective treatment was repeated two following days, and would have been a third day but for the fact that Mr. Moore sent the donkey to the country."
The U.S. missionaries may have found the Korean folk remedy amusing and backward but they seem to have conveniently overlooked popular Western folk remedies for the disease. A quick internet search reveals some people thought drinking mare's milk was effective while others suggested inhaling a horse's breath. Tying cords, leather straps or bacon strips around children's necks would prevent the most severe effects of the disease. Killing a cat and placing its pelt upon the sufferer's chest was also a surefire cure. Eating goose grease with molasses or gargling with coal oil soothed sore throats wracked by coughing.
The hypocritical mocking of Korean folk remedies by the Western missionaries merely proves not all asses in Korea had four legs.