The Imjin War: Japan's Sixteenth-Century Invasion of Korea and Attempt to Conquer China

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by Samuel Hawley




  THE IMJIN WAR

  Japan’s Sixteenth-Century Invasion of Korea and Attempt to Conquer China

  by

  SAMUEL HAWLEY

  THE IMJIN WAR:

  JAPAN’S SIXTEENTH-CENTURY INVASION OF KOREA AND ATTEMPT TO CONQUER CHINA

  Second Edition

  Copyright © 2014 by Samuel Hawley

  Published by Conquistador Press, 2014

  ISBN (for eBook edition): 978-0-9920786-4-5

  ISBN: (for print edition): 978-0-9920786-2-1

  All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without the prior written permission of the author.

  The first edition of THE IMJIN WAR was published in 2005 by the Royal Asiatic Society, Korea Branch, Seoul and the Institute of East Asian Studies, University of California, Berkeley, with a second printing in 2008.

  Conquistador Press

  www.conquistadorpress.com

  Visit the author at:

  www.samuelhawley.com

  ALSO BY SAMUEL HAWLEY

  NONFICTION

  I Just Ran:

  Percy Williams, World’s Fastest Human

  Speed Duel:

  The Inside Story of the Land Speed Record in the Sixties

  America’s Man in Korea:

  The Private Letters of George C. Foulk, 1884-1887

  Inside the Hermit Kingdom:

  The 1884 Korea Travel Diary of George Clayton Foulk

  FICTION

  Bad Elephant Far Stream

  Homeowner With a Gun

  Warfare is the greatest affair of the state,

  the Tao of survival or extinction.

  T’ai Kung’s Six Secret Teachings

  4th century B.C.

  CONTENTS

  PREFACE TO THE NEW EDITION

  INTRODUCTION

  A NOTE ON DATES

  PART 1: THE THREE KINGDOMS

  CHAPTER 1: Japan: From Civil War to World Power

  CHAPTER 2: China: The Ming Dynasty in Decline

  CHAPTER 3: A Son Called Sute: “Thrown Away”

  CHAPTER 4: Korea: Highway to the Prize

  PART 2: PRELUDE TO WAR

  CHAPTER 5: “By fast ships I have dispatched orders to Korea...”

  CHAPTER 6: Preparations for War

  CHAPTER 7: The Final Days

  PART 3: IMJIN

  CHAPTER 8: North to Seoul

  CHAPTER 9: Hideyoshi Jubilant

  CHAPTER 10: The Korean Navy Strikes Back

  CHAPTER 11: On to Pyongyang

  CHAPTER 12: The Battle for the Yellow Sea

  CHAPTER 13: “To me the Japanese robber army will be but a swarm of ants and wasps”

  CHAPTER 14: A Castle at Fushimi

  CHAPTER 15: Suppression and Resistance

  CHAPTER 16: Saving History

  PART 4: STALEMATE

  CHAPTER 17: The Retreat from Pyongyang to the “River of Hell”

  CHAPTER 18: Seoul Retaken

  CHAPTER 19: Negotiations at Nagoya, Slaughter at Chinju

  CHAPTER 20: Factions, Feuds, and Forgeries

  CHAPTER 21: Meanwhile, in Manila…

  CHAPTER 22: “You, Hideyoshi, are hereby instructed...to cheerfully obey our imperial commands!”

  CHAPTER 23: The Arrest and Imprisonment of Yi Sun-sin

  PART 5: THE SECOND INVASION

  CHAPTER 24: “Water, Thunder, and Great Disaster”

  CHAPTER 25: The Japanese Advance Inland

  CHAPTER 26: “Seek death and you will live; seek life and you will die”

  CHAPTER 27: Starvation and Death in a “Buddha-less World”

  CHAPTER 28: “Even Osaka Castle is only a dream”

  CHAPTER 29: The Last Act

  PART 6: AFTERMATH

  CHAPTER 30: What Came Next

  BIBLIOGRAPHY

  MAPS AND TABLES

  FIGURE 1: Hideyoshi’s Japan

  FIGURE 2: East Asia in the Sixteenth Century

  FIGURE 3: Korea, 1592

  FIGURE4: Japanese Invasion Forces, May 1592

  FIGURE 5: The First Invasion, 1592-93

  FIGURE 6: Korea’s Southern Coast

  FIGURE 7: The Kyongsang Coast

  FIGURE 8: Japanese Invasion Forces, September 1597

  FIGURE 9: The Second Invasion, 1597-98

  PREFACE TO THE NEW EDITION

  It will soon be ten years since The Imjin War was co-published in October 2005 by the Royal Asiatic Society in Korea and the Institute of East Asian Studies at UC Berkeley. My foremost thanks then, and now, is to Kim Kyong-mee for the many hours she spent with me, twice a week over the course of two years, translating the various Korean-language sources that were used in the preparation of this book. I would also like to renew my thanks to Kim Young-duk and Bae Sue-ja, respectively the president and general manager of the RASKB at the time The Imjin War was originally published; to IEAS managing editor Joanne Sandstrom for her copyediting skills; and to the So-ae Memorial Foundation and Poongsan Corporation, without whose support this book would never have been published in the first place.

  The Imjin War book received virtually no marketing when it was first released and distribution was confined to just a few sources. Normally such lack of publicity and availability would doom a book to wither and die, unknown and unsold. But for some reason The Imjin War didn’t wither. Readers found it, word got around and the initial print run of 2,000 copies eventually sold out. In 2008 a second printing was made.

  As an older and wiser author today, more aware of the harsh realities of the book business, I look back on this modest success with a measure of wonder. When I set out to find a publisher in 2003, after four years of solitary research and writing, I contacted a number of literary agents and publishing houses, pitching it as a popular history for general readers, and I sat back expecting to receive at least a few favorable replies. Fifty-seven rejection letters followed, each assuring me that a book on a presumably obscure sixteen-century war in Korea wouldn’t sell. To all the people who bought The Imjin War anyway when it finally came out, despite this conventional wisdom that they weren’t supposed to; to everyone who devoted the hours required to read through its many pages; to everyone who has said or written kind things about it over the years and encouraged me to write more—to all these people I would like to say: Thank you.

  This new edition of The Imjin War is largely identical to the original version. The main difference is that I have eliminated the center section of pictures, replaced the Acknowledgements with this new Preface and designed a new cover. Everything else, including the text, is the same. I remain very proud of this book. It was a labor of love that required more time and drive and energy than I could ever muster again, and so I have decided to let it stand as I originally wrote it.

  It has grieved me over the years to receive emails from people saying that they wanted a copy of The Imjin War but couldn’t find one to buy, or that the only copy they could locate was being sold for an outrageously high price. It is my hope that these more reasonably priced paperback and eBook editions, coupled with easier availability and more widespread distribution, will overcome these problems.

  Samuel Hawley

  Kingston, Ontario, Canada

  September 2014

  INTRODUCTION

  On December 8, 1941—December 7 on the American side of the international date line—army and navy forces of Ja
pan launched a surprise attack on Western colonial possessions in Asia and the Pacific, initiating what would come to be known in Tokyo as the Great Pacific War. It was the final, ultimately disastrous step in an expansionist phase in Japanese history that had already led that nation into three other wars of increasing ambition: the Sino-Japanese War of 1894–95, the Russo-Japanese War of 1904–05, and the campaign to conquer China begun in 1931. By the summer of 1942, eight months into the Great Pacific War, the empire of Japan extended from Manchuria to Burma on the Asian mainland and south across the Pacific as far as the islands of Java and New Guinea. Then, in the face of overwhelming American power, it began to fall apart.

  Today, this fifty-year period of international aggression tends to be regarded as an aberration in Japan’s long history, the only time most people are aware of when the Land of the Rising Sun dispatched armies overseas to conquer foreign lands. This, however, is not the case. The Sino-Japanese War, the Russo-Japanese War, the invasion of China, the Great Pacific War—they all had an important antecedent that is little known in the West. In May of 1592, some 350 years before the attack on Pearl Harbor, the state of Japan, recently unified under a dictator named Toyotomi Hideyoshi, sent a huge army across the strait from Kyushu to Pusan on Korea’s southern tip. Its objective was first to invade that neighboring kingdom, then to press on to Beijing and conquer China. Once China was securely in Hideyoshi’s grasp, he planned to extend his hegemony even farther: south into Vietnam, Cambodia, Thailand, and Burma; offshore to Sumatra, Java, Taiwan, the Ryukyu Islands, and the Spanish colony of the Philippines; west to India—perhaps even all the way to that distant place where the strange bearded men came from who had first appeared in Japan fifty years before, the southwestern barbarians who claimed to be from a country called Poru-tu-gal.

  Hideyoshi, in short, was intent on conquering the whole world as it was then known to him, an ambitious goal for what was in fact the first centrally directed war of overseas aggression in the history of Japan.

  The resulting conflict immersed Japan, Korea, and China, plus token forces from as far away as Thailand, in nearly seven years of bloody war. It came to be known to the Japanese under a variety of appellations, from the prosaic “Korean War” to the more poetic “Pottery War” and “War of Celadon and Metal Type,” references to the spoils that Hideyoshi’s armies took back with them to Japan. The Chinese would refer to it simply as “the Korean Campaign,” a designation lumping it together with two other military campaigns that occupied the armies of China in the 1590s, despite the fact that it dwarfed the other two in size. To the Koreans, who suffered by far the greatest devastation and loss, it would come to be known as Imjin waeran, “the bandit invasion of the year imjin (water dragon),” commonly rendered in English as “the Imjin War.”

  Since this book relies most heavily on Korean sources and a Korean perspective, this is the title that I have chosen: Imjin waeran, “the Imjin War.”

  The scale of the Imjin War was immense. It far exceeded any conflict that had occurred in Renaissance Europe up to that time. The army of invasion that Toyotomi Hideyoshi sent to Korea in 1592 totaled 158,800 men, three times the size of the largest army that any European nation in the late sixteenth century could muster and put into the field. Add to this the nearly 100,000 Ming Chinese troops ultimately dispatched by Beijing to Korea to counter the approaching threat, plus the many tens of thousands of Korean soldiers and guerrilla fighters who participated in the war, and the total number of combatants rises to something in excess of 300,000 men. The most contemporary European comparison, the “invincible armada” that was sent by Philip II of Spain to invade England in 1588, by contrast involved 30,500 Spaniards against an Elizabethan military that in its entirety amounted to not much more than 20,000 men.

  The Imjin War did not result in a redrawing of the boundaries of the nations involved. When the fighting finally ended in December of 1598, China, Japan, and Korea were each left with exactly the same territory they had started with seven years before. The impact of the war was nevertheless profound. For Japan it marked the end of its military age, or at least the beginning of the end, an international crescendo of conflict capping more than a century of civil war. After the death in 1598 of the war’s architect, Toyotomi Hideyoshi, and the subsequent rise to power of Tokugawa Ieyasu, Japan would enter the longest unbroken period of peace in its history, the Tokugawa era of 1601 to 1867. In China, the strain of responding to Japanese aggression in Korea would greatly weaken the already declining Ming dynasty, undermining its ability to resist the Manchu forces that would ultimately overwhelm it to establish a dynasty of their own, the Qing. And in Korea, while no corresponding dynastic change took place, the war weakened the country so severely that it would not fully recover for centuries to come.

  What follows is the most comprehensive account in the English language of this important conflict, the Imjin War, still so little known in the West. It lays a framework for understanding Japan, Korea, and China as they existed four hundred years ago. It recounts the five years of diplomatic maneuvering and misunderstanding that preceded the outbreak of hostilities. It gives a detailed account of the entire six-and-a-half-year conflict, from the first day of the Japanese invasion in 1592 to the final bloody clashes of 1598. It introduces the pageant of characters involved: the warlords and kings, the officials and envoys, the commanders and soldiers, and the common people who suffered and died. And it conveys, I hope, something of the drama, the tragedy, and the emotion of this fascinating episode in the history of the East, for it is nothing less than an epic tale and deserves to be told as such.

  A NOTE ON DATES

  The lunar calendar was used in China, Korea, and Japan until the late nineteenth century, after which it came gradually to be replaced by the Gregorian calendar favored in the West. In some older English-language histories of the Far East, no attempt is made to distinguish between these two systems; the thirteenth day of the fourth month, for example, is written simply as April 13. The Western solar and Eastern lunar calendars, however, come nowhere near converging in this neat fashion, rendering such conversions highly inaccurate. The day the Imjin War began, for example, the thirteenth day of the fourth month in 1592, was in fact May 23. To avoid confusion, all Korean and Chinese lunar dates in the main text of this volume have been converted to the Western calendar using Keith Hazelton’s Synchronic Chinese-Western Daily Calendar, 1341–1661 A.D. (Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1985); Japanese lunar dates, which often vary by a day, were converted using Paul Y. Tsuchihashi’s Japanese Chronological Tables from 601 to 1872 (Tokyo: Sophia University, 1952). In notes referring to primary sources dated using the lunar calendar, the original lunar date is given in day/month/year format, followed in parentheses by the corresponding solar date.

  The situation is more complex in the matter of naming years. In Korea alone three separate year designations were used during the Choson dynasty: the reign year of the emperor of China, the reign year of the Korean king, and the year designation according to the combined zodiacal- and element-based cycle of sixty. The year 1592, for example, was known alternately as Wanli 20, Sonjo 25, and the year Imjin. When one adds to this the different pronunciations employed by the Chinese and the altogether different emperor reign year designations used in Japan, the picture becomes even more confusing. For the sake of clarity, all years in the text of this volume will be given in Western terms and Eastern year designations will be confined to the notes.

  PART 1

  THE THREE KINGDOMS

  Enraptured by the evening sunset

  the boys tending cattle

  on the grassy bank of the clear river

  trill on their flutes

  while the dragon dozing beneath the water

  seems to wake and rise.[1]

  Chong Chol (1536–94)

  Songsan pyolgok (Song of Star Mountain), c. 1578

  CHAPTER 1

  Japan: From Civil War to World Power

&n
bsp; On September 23, 1543, a large Chinese junk appeared off the coast of Tanegashima, a small, finger-shaped island forty kilometers to the south of Kyushu. It carried a crew of more than a hundred men, apparently Chinese, plus a few extremely odd-looking creatures with bearded faces and long noses, the likes of which the people of Tanegashima had never seen before.

  The leader of this strange assembly was a Chinese man by the name of Wu-feng—in fact the notorious pirate Wang Chih traveling under one of his many aliases. To the Tanegashima islanders this Wu-feng seemed a scholar, for although they could not understand his language, nor he theirs, he showed them that he could write Chinese characters and indicated that they could thus communicate in writing. None of the islanders clustered along the beach could understand these complicated ideographs, but they knew of a man on the island who could, a village chief on the west coast by the name of Oribe. He was therefore summoned to communicate with this scholar-sailor Wu-feng, a.k.a. Chinese pirate Wang Chih.

  Oribe conversed with Wu-feng by tracing characters in the sand with his cane. He began by asking, “Those men on your ship—where are they from? Why do they look so different from us?”

  “They are traders from among the south-western barbarians,” wrote Wu-feng in reply, meaning that they were Portuguese. “These traders visit the same places in the hope of exchanging what they have for what they do not have. There is nothing suspicious about them.”

 

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