The return of Heungseon Daewongun

The port of Jemulpo (modern Incheon) in the late 1880s or early 1890s Robert Neff Collection

By Robert Neff

When Arthur H. Heath (a journalist for the Illustrated London News) and his two companions (Charles Joseph Uren and Lionel F. Gowing) traveled to Korea in late September 1885, they expected a great adventure and were not disappointed.

Heath wrote:

"It was in very unsettled times that we paid this visit to the Hermit Kingdom, and [on Oct. 3], the day we returned to Jemulpo (modern Incheon) from Seoul, we found the long-expected and notorious "Daewongun" (Prince) had just arrived in a Chinese gunboat. The port was quite lively with British, Russian, American, Japanese and Chinese men-of-war…"

While the Daewongun's arrival may have been long-expected and welcomed by much of the general public, many in the Korean court ― including the queen ― opposed it. George C. Foulk, an American naval officer in charge of the American Legation in Seoul, wrote:

"The possible return of the Tai Won Kun has for some time been the subject of much speculation and has excited much interest in the east. However, no exact or probable date for his return to Korea would seem to have been fixed or at least been intimated to the public or the government of Korea. His arrival therefore at [Jemulpo] on the third instant [Oct. 3] was a sudden surprise in Korea."

Heath's, Gowing's and Foulk's accounts all state that when the general public learned of the Daewongun's return to Korea, a large number of people (7,000 or 8,000) traveled to Jemulpo to greet him. It is safe to assume finding accommodations was no easy matter, as the port's permanent population was 8,000 Koreans, 500 Japanese, 300 Chinese and 40 Westerners ― not to mention the large number of sailors from the warships.

An image of Heungseon Daewongun from Homer Hulbert's 1906 book, "Passing of Korea"

According to Gowing:

"A dense crowd of Coreans, with a sprinkling of Japanese, had collected in front of the Chinese Consulate, where his Royal Highness was staying. Corean officials, wearing peacocks' feathers in their hats, were hurrying to and fro and a double line of marines from the Chinese man-of-war kept order and prevented the rabble from blocking up the path, along which officials were continually arriving to pay their respects to the Prince. It sounded very strange, and somewhat significant, to hear the words of command, 'shoulder arms!' 'Order arms!' 'Right turn!' and so forth, delivered in our Western barbarian tongue, and responded to with military promptitude. Crowds of Coreans had collected along the road in the hope of seeing the Prince start on his march to the capital…"

Early in the morning of Oct. 5, the Daewongun set out for Seoul, accompanied by a guard of 40 Chinese marines, a multitude of supporters and the new Korean Customs commissioner, an American named Henry F. Merrill. When the procession arrived at Namdaemun, the southern entrance to the capital city, they proceeded to a temporary pavilion where the elderly Daewongun met with his son, King Gojong, was "screened from the public's gaze."

Horace N. Allen, an American missionary doctor, watched the event but seemed unimpressed, describing "the procession of the king [as] the usual thing," with the only point of interest being the Chinese marine escort. After the short ceremony, King Gojong returned to his palace and his father proceeded to his own residential palace, still escorted by the Chinese marines.

Foulk reported "the streets of Seoul were thronged during the day by the excited multitudes of people" and he noted that "the general expression of the people over the return of the (Daewongun was) one of joy mingled with apprehension evinced in many ways. Among the officers of the government anxiety amounting almost to consternation is evinced, numbers of these and some of the people as well, left the city, and the offices of government [were closed] for several days following the arrival."

This was not the only event going on. A large dinner was held at the palace to celebrate the third anniversary of Queen Min's return to Seoul following the failed attempt upon her life during the Imo Incident of 1882. In his report to the State Department, Foulk explained that the handful of foreign representatives who attended ― "though not without some misgivings" ― were entertained with a series of games as well as Korean court intrigue. According to Foulk, the queen began a campaign of "ferreting out persons supposed to have aided" the Daewongun's attempt to seize power during the Imo Incident and that by Oct. 5, "the prisons were filled with suspects whose names had been divulged under the severe torture applied to the first few arrested."

Seoul's Namdaemun in the early 1900s Robert Neff Collection

In his diary, Allen also wrote about the party and how the queen had a poor underling tortured until he provided 30 names of suspected participants of the Imo Incident. As evidenced by his entry, Allen was not a very tactful missionary and, unsurprisingly, when he later became a diplomat he was equally as undiplomatic.

"(A) banquet (was) given to the foreign representatives at the Palace. King and Queen enjoyed the sight behind the screens of a pleasure boat in the large lotus pond. The bloody 'Jezebel' was unusually gracious to her lord and wormed out of him a royal decree that all persons supposed to have participated in the troubles of [1882] when she came so near [to] losing her life should die."

Condemned prisoners are conveyed to their execution site, circa 1890s or early 1900s. Robert Neff Collection

The royal decree was obeyed. Allen's diary entry for Oct. 7 reveals that he passed two dead bodies lying in the street, their heads, hands and feet having been chopped off. These two men were likely 41-year-old Kim Chun-yeong, one of the manipulators of the "heinous rebellion," and Lee Young-sik, who was accused of breaking into one of the armories and distributing weapons to the rebelling soldiers. Both men allegedly confessed their crimes.

In his report, Foulk stated three men met this grisly fate ― their executions "were timed to the arrival of the Daiwongun with the evident object of intimidating the people against giving him new support in their enthusiasm over his return." The foreign representatives expressed concern that this would cause further unrest and so, through the Chinese representative's efforts, the dismembered bodies were cleared from the streets and further executions were prevented.

Foulk concluded his report by stating that Oct. 3, 1885, was a critical point in Korean history as evidenced by the simultaneous arrival of the Daewongun, the new commissioner of Korean Customs (Merrill), the new Chinese minister to Korea (Yuan Shih-kai), the new English consul general to Seoul (Edward Calborne Baber) and the Russian charge d'affaires (Carl von Waeber). All of these men played important roles in Korean history but it was a female member of Waeber's household who would eventually be known as "the uncrowned empress of Korea" and will be the subject of the next article.

Robert Neff has authored and co-authored several books, including Letters from Joseon, Korea Through Western Eyes and Brief Encounters.