by Donald Keene
Okakura Kakuzō wryly commented that as long as Japan indulged in the gentle arts of peace, it had been regarded as barbarous, but victory in war had induced the foreigners to call Japan civilized.52
Chapter 47
The war with China had ostensibly been fought to preserve Korean independence. The emperor stated in his rescript of May 10, 1895, immediately after the signing of the peace treaty with China, “We have always longed for peace, and our objective, which ultimately led to conflict with China, was in fact none other than the establishment of a firm and everlasting peace in the East.” King Kojong on May 30 sent a message to Emperor Meiji thanking him for his recognition of Korean independence.1
If the Japanese supposed that victory in a war fought to obtain recognition of Korea’s independence would induce the grateful Koreans to strengthen their ties with Japan, they were soon disabused of this notion. The strong pro-Russian faction at the court included the minister of the interior, Pak Yong-hyo, who had lived as an exile in Japan for ten years following the failure of the 1884 uprising. Pak had been permitted to return to Korea as the result of the intercession of Inoue Kaoru, who, on assuming his post as minister to Korea on October 20, 1894, immediately secured from Kojong a pardon for Pak.2 No doubt Inoue hoped this would make Pak a firm ally, but he (like Kim Ok-kyun) had not been well treated while in Japan, and this probably militated against gratitude.3
Inoue returned temporarily to Japan and on June 21 had an audience with the emperor. He hoped to persuade the government to change its policies toward Korea; otherwise, he feared, the country would fall under Russian domination. At the beginning of July, Inoue presented his recommendations concerning a loan, Korean railways and telegraph, the defense of Seoul, and restrictions on Japanese permitted to stay in Korea. He pointed out that the recent warfare had exhausted the Koreans, physically and financially, and he proposed giving Korea 5 million to 6 million yen from the reparations that China was to pay. Three million of this amount would be repaid; half the remainder would be presented to the royal house; and the other half would be used for starting government-sponsored industries.4 Inoue proposed that a railway be laid between Seoul and Inch’on and that the telegraphic lines installed by the Japanese army be turned over to the Koreans but maintained by the Japanese. He favored stationing about two battalions of Japanese to defend the palace, but only if specifically requested by the king. Finally, he warned against Japanese who had recently been going to Korea. He described them as being of extremely shady background and declared that their activities were creating anti-Japanese feelings among the Koreans. The greatest care would have to be exercised to keep such people under control.5
Inoue Kaoru seems to have had the interests of the Koreans at heart. Even contemporary Korean scholars, usually quick to condemn any action by a Japanese in Korea, have praised Inoue’s efforts.6 Inoue’s wife, Takeko, the belle of the Rokumeikan, was on friendly terms even with Queen Min, the avowed enemy of Japan.7 Indeed, if Inoue had continued to serve as the Japanese minister to Korea, the tragic events of that year might not have occurred.
Inoue had planned to reform the Korean government along the enlightened lines of the Japanese government. In the opinion of Miura Gorō, his successor, Inoue failed because the Koreans could not understand the urgency of reform in financial and other matters. When, for example, a Japanese tax expert insisted that it was necessary to establish a budget and keep spending within its limits, this irritated Kojong, who, despite his lack of financial resources, was accustomed to spend money whenever he pleased. Even if he nodded in agreement while listening to a sermon on the importance of financial solvency, it did not take long for him to revert to his normal extravagance.8
The success of the three powers in forcing Japan to give up the Liaotung Peninsula had made the Koreans sharply aware that Japan was not as strong as the Japanese pretended. At this time Queen Min became friendly with the Russian minister, Carl Waeber, and his wife. Waeber was pleased by her affability and sought, by exploiting it, to eliminate Japanese influence at the court. He sent word to the queen reminding her that the Japanese and the Min, her family, had a history of bad relations. Although people spoke of Korea and Japan as neighbors, the two countries were in fact separated by an expanse of ocean. They were by no means as close as Korea and Russia, whose lands were contiguous. Even from a geographic point of view, it was clear that it was desirable for Korea and Russia to be friends. Moreover, Russia was the most powerful country in the world, as the enforced return of Liaotung had proved. Russia would not violate Korea’s independence, nor would it interfere in internal matters. The safest course for Korea was to depend on Russian protection. Russia, an absolute monarchy, would unquestionably protect the rights of Korea’s ruler.9
The king, whose actions generally were dictated by the queen, on July 6 suddenly accused Pak Yong-hyo of insubordination, stripped him of his rank, and ordered his arrest.10 Pak managed to escape, but now there was no one to restrain the queen. Inoue returned to Korea at this juncture. He sensed that the atmosphere had changed and that his main task now was not to encourage reform but to please the king and queen. At an audience with the king, he reported that the Japanese government was about to present him with 3 million yen. He also attempted to ingratiate himself by cultivating the queen’s relatives, and he kept a distance from the Reform Party, his former allies.11 Despite his efforts, however, Inoue soon realized that the court was not to be swayed even by generous gifts; the atmosphere remained strongly anti-Japanese and pro-Russian. He asked to be relieved of his post.
On July 19 Miura Gorō was appointed as minister plenipotentiary extraordinary.12 According to his recollections, he was extremely reluctant to accept the post. He protested that he was an amateur in diplomacy and had no competence in such matters. In the past, he had refused when he was considered for the post of minister to France, and he refused the present appointment several times; but pressure was brought to bear on him, and in the end he had no choice but to accept. Even after he accepted, he still had no idea what was expected of him. He said he needed to know the government’s intentions. Was Korea to be made independent? Or was it to be annexed by Japan? Or did the government intend to share control with Russia? He asked to be plainly informed which policy the government favored.13 But, Miura claimed, all he had ever received by way of instructions was a directive from Yamagata Aritomo to take up his post in Korea as soon as possible. In the absence of guidance, he would have no choice but to act as seemed best to him.
Miura presented his credentials to Kojong on September 3. Despite his professed ignorance of what the Japanese government expected of him, the choice of a military man indicated that the leaders hoped he would take action—perhaps very strong action—against the enemies of Japan now that Inoue’s policy of friendly assistance had been discredited. Inoue himself had recommended Miura as his successor, and although the ailing Mutsu Munemitsu had opposed the appointment, it was pushed through by the Chōshū clique.
When Miura left for Korea, he was accompanied by various advisers, including Okamoto Ryūnosuke, an extremist, who was deeply involved in the plot to kill Queen Min but who had been a friend of the progressive Kim Okkyun. When he learned that Kim had been assassinated in Shanghai, Okamoto rushed there from Japan, intending to retrieve Kim’s remains and prevent them from being dishonored by his enemies, whether Korean, Japanese, or Chinese.14 Although Okamoto arrived too late to accomplish his mission, he was loyal to his Korean friend. His involvement in the plot on Queen Min’s life was inspired by a belief in Japanese imperialism as well as the need for progress in Korea.
When Miura was presented to the Korean court soon after his arrival, he created a favorable impression by describing himself as an ordinary soldier who was unfamiliar with the fancy language of diplomacy. He said that unless he was summoned by the king, he would remain in the legation, copying sutras15 and enjoying the beauties of nature in Korea. He hoped to present to the queen a copy of the Avalo
kitesvara sutra in his hand.16
True to his word, Miura rarely left the legation. He spent so much of his time reading the sutras that he was known as “the sutra-reading minister,”17 but he was privately planning to kill the queen of Korea. It is not clear what Miura had learned about Queen Min before leaving Japan, but once he reached Seoul, he was undoubtedly informed by members of the legation and leaders of the Japanese community that the queen was vehemently anti-Japanese and an unyielding opponent of progress. In his uncomplicated, soldierly manner (and in the absence of contrary instructions from Japan), he apparently decided that the only remedy for the situation was to get rid of the queen, the major obstacle to good relations with Japan.
Originally, Miura planned to carry out the assassination in November 1895, but the date was moved up when word was received that the king (probably following the queen’s recommendation) intended to disband the Training Unit (Hullyon Togam), a battalion of some 800 well-equipped soldiers who had been trained by the Japanese.18 Because this pro-Japanese unit was necessary to Miura’s plan, the assassination had to be carried out before it was disbanded.19
Miura devised a plan that would shift responsibility for the queen’s murder away from the Japanese: it would be announced that her death had occurred during a coup d’état staged by the taewon’gun. Japanese military (stationed near the royal palace in accordance with the peace treaty with China) would be available to back up the coup, but the murder of the queen would be left to unruly Japanese elements in Seoul, known as sōshi. Korean participation would be limited to the Training Unit. The plan was kept secret from all but a handful of Japanese.20
It was necessary to obtain the taewon’gun’s consent to lead the coup, but not even he was informed of the plan to kill the queen. On October 5 Okamoto Ryūnosuke (at Miura’s request) called on the taewon’gun, saying that he wanted to pay his respects before returning to Japan. He mentioned his belief that an uprising was imminent and asked if the taewon’gun would approve a set of four “promises” drawn up at the Japanese legation. The first was a promise to confine his future activity to palace matters and not to meddle in politics. The second and third promises related to future appointments, and the fourth was to send his grandson to study in Japan for three years.21
The taewon’gun’s response to these promises is not known. At the trial in Hiroshima of persons involved in the murder of Queen Min, one man testified that the taewon’gun happily agreed to all four promises without changing a word;22 but Okamoto recalled that on the contrary, the taewon’gun at first said he was an old man and lacked the energy to become involved in anything new, and he asked to be left to die as he was. It took considerable persuasion to get him to consent.23 Okamoto left the next day for Inch’on; the queen, learning of his departure, was reassured.24
Civilians were recruited mainly by Adachi Kenzō, the editor of the Japanese-language newspaper Kanjō shimpō. Miura is reported to have said to Adachi soon after his arrival in Korea, “We’ll have to go on a fox hunt one of these days. How many young people do you have at your place?” Adachi, guessing that by “fox” was meant the queen, replied that he had some, but they were all mild-mannered newspapermen he had brought with him from Japan. If Miura needed vigorous young men, he would send a telegram in code to Kumamoto and would have no trouble in collecting as many as were needed.25 Miura said this would not be necessary and warned Adachi to keep the conversation an absolute secret. Adachi started to gather volunteers locally without telling them the purpose. On the afternoon of October 7 Miura sent for Adachi and told him that the changing situation had necessitated making the attack that night. When Adachi informed the others of the plan to kill the queen, they agreed without hesitation to take part.
In the early morning hours of October 8, a party of Japanese civilians and policemen, some dressed in Korean uniforms,26 barged into the residence of the taewon’gun. Okamoto Ryūnosuke, who had secretly made his way back from Inch’on, was among them. Some accounts say that the taewon’gun joyfully welcomed the Japanese and expressed eagerness to leave for the royal palace,27 but in fact the taewon’gun was fast asleep when the Japanese arrived, not foreseeing that the Japanese would visit him that night. Even after being awakened, he seemed still to be in a daze and dawdled over preparations to leave. Finally some sōshi, fearing that the delay might make it impossible to kill Queen Min before it grew light, dragged him outside and deposited him in a palanquin. On the way to the royal palace the taewon’gun stopped his palanquin in order to extract from Okamoto a promise that neither the king nor the crown prince would be harmed.28 It is not known if the taewon’gun realized that those around him intended to kill the queen.
By the time the taewon’gun’s palanquin reached the palace, it was growing light. There it was joined by sixty or so sōshi and Japanese military, some in mufti. Men scaled the palace walls and opened the gates. Inside, they were met with scattered fire from soldiers of the Self-Defense Unit but soon put them to flight. The “Official Report on Matters Connected with the Events of October 8th, 1895, and the Death of the Queen” issued by Korean authorities reported what ensued when the sōshi broke into the quarters of the king and queen:
These Japanese sōshi, numbering thirty or more, under the leadership of a head Japanese, rushed with drawn swords into the building, searching the private rooms, seizing all the palace women they could catch, dragging them round by the hair and beating them and demanding where the queen was. This was seen by many, including Mr. Sabatin, a foreigner connected with His Majesty’s guard, who was in the court-yard for a short time. He saw the Japanese officers in command of the Japanese troops, saw the outrages committed on the Korean court ladies and was himself asked often by the Japanese where the queen was and was threatened and put in danger of his life because he would not tell….
After searching the various rooms, the sōshi found the queen in one of the side rooms where she was attempting to hide, and catching hold of her cut her down with their swords.
It is not certain whether, though so grievously wounded, she was then actually dead; but she was laid upon a plank, wrapped up with a silk comfort (used as bed-clothing) and taken out into the court-yard. Very soon afterward, under the direction of the Japanese sōshi, the body was taken from the court-yard to a grove of trees not far distant, in the deer park, and there kerosene oil was poured over the body and faggots of wood piled around and all set on fire….
It was thus that our beloved and venerated queen of Korea and mother of His Royal Highness, the crown prince, was cruelly assassinated and her body burned to destroy evidence of the crime.29
This official Korean report did not exaggerate the circumstances of the murder. Witnesses at the trials in Japan and Korea reported that brute force had been used by the Japanese against the king and the crown prince. The intruders who broke into the king’s apartment demanded that the king and crown prince reveal where the queen was hiding. When they failed to answer, they were manhandled and threatened with swords and pistols. Court ladies were also threatened by sōshi who demanded they reveal the queen’s whereabouts, but not understanding Japanese, they could only scream in fright.30
Brushing off the king’s attempt to bar the way, the Japanese intruders stormed into the next room, where they killed the minister of the royal household, Yi Kyong-jik, who was attempting to defend the queen’s apartment. In the queen’s apartment, they killed three court ladies, all of them beautiful, but they could not be sure which one was the queen, since none of the men had ever seen her. Other court ladies and the crown prince were dragged into the room to make the identification.31
It is not clear who actually killed Queen Min. Okamoto Ryūnosuke was accused of the murder, but other men proudly took credit. A medicine peddler named Terasaki Yasukichi recalled how he and two other Japanese had broken into the queen’s apartment:
We went on inside. When we got into XX’s room there were some 20 or 30 court ladies there. We flung them off one at a time. T
hen, when we looked under the bedding, there was someone dressed exactly the same as the other court ladies, but quite self-possessed, not making a fuss, looking like somebody important, and this told us it was XX. Grabbing her by the hair, we dragged her from her hiding place. Just what you’d expect, she wasn’t in the least bit ruffled…. I swung my sword down on her head. Nakamura was holding her by the hair, so his hand got slightly cut. I let her have it from the head, so one blow was enough to finish her. The others criticized me saying I was too reckless, killing her before we had identified that it was XX, but later on it turned out it really was XX.
Terasaki boasted of his achievement, as did other Japanese, including some who had not so much as entered the room where the queen was murdered.32
Once Queen Min was dead, other sōshi stole her possessions. The Japanese consul Uchida Sadatsuchi reported: “Sassa Masayuki stole a perfume sachet and other valuable articles that were on the queen’s body, and other intruders stole various things from the queen’s room.”33
It was reported that after the queen had been wounded in two or three places, “they stripped her naked and examined her private parts.” Her body was carried out to the garden and burned there. She was in her forty-fifth year, but she looked no more than twenty-five or twenty-six.
Queen Min was an arrogant and corrupt woman.34 She was certainly not “beloved and venerated” by Korean people who were acquainted with her activities, even if they admired her resolutely anti-Japanese stand. But the manner in which she was killed was unspeakably barbaric, and contrary to Japanese hopes, her death did not solve their problems in Korea. In the words of a Korean diplomat,