By Robert Neff
At the end of the 19th century there was a literal gold rush in Korea — especially after the Americans were able to obtain a large concession in northern Korea (the Unsan Gold Mines) operated by the Oriental Consolidated Mining Company. Its initial success inspired prospectors from various nations to seek their own mining concessions in Korea with the aid of their respective consuls. Often the concessions were relatively easily obtained through negotiations but not all of them, and occasionally more than words were needed.
One such notorious incident took place on June 29, 1898, between the German Consul Ferdinand Krien, and the Korean Minister of Foreign Affairs Yu Kui-whan. Krien claimed that a former minister, Cho Pyun-jik, had agreed to grant a particular mine in Gangwon province to the German firm, E. Meyer & Co., but Yu claimed that this particular mine was being worked by Korean gold miners and could not be granted to the Germans. He did, however, offer to let the Germans choose any other unoccupied mine. A series of missives were sent back and forth between the German consulate and the Ministry of Foreign Affairs but very little progress was made and both sides became very frustrated.
According to The Independent, an English-language newspaper in Seoul:
“[Yu] went to the consulate on some disputed business at an hour appointed for a meeting. The Consul met him at the door and, without any explanation, struck Mr. Yu on the arm with an official dispatch from the Foreign Office which the Consul had certain reasons for not accepting. As if this was not enough, he struck the Minister on the breast with his fist and pushed him out of the door throwing the document on the ground.”
A British newspaper reported that the consul had struck the minister in the face with his fist and that “the ill-treated Minister forthwith proceeded to the palace and in an audience related the occurrence to the Emperor. The judicial adviser, Mr. Greathouse, was then dispatched to the German Consulate, but could obtain no satisfaction from Mr. Krien.”
Large mass meetings were held denouncing Krien’s assault and “demand[ed] quick vengeance.”
Newspapers around the world quickly picked up on the story and denounced the alleged actions of Krien. One paper declared, “It takes that high product of 19th century civilization — the German diplomat — to deal effectively with the simple heathen.” Although he “severely thrashed” the Korean minister, the paper opined that “the German would have instilled into the Koreans a still greater respect for the mighty country he represents had he also spanked the emperor.”
But how many of the accounts were exaggerated? The Independent reported a couple of days later that “a disinterested eyewitness of the scene” claimed that Krien had not gone so far as to strike Yu.
There were repercussions but apparently not for Krien. He sent his interpreter to the Korean palace claiming that Prince Henry (Albert Wilhelm Heinrich von Preuben) — the younger brother of German Emperor William II — refused to come to Seoul while “such a man as [Yu was] Foreign Minister.” Krien later admitted that it was most likely because the German government had yet to recognize Gojong’s imperial title and that his visit would have been “somewhat awkward under the circumstances” and because of the “unpleasant notoriety given [Krien] by the newspapers in Japan” over his incident with Yu.
Regardless of the circumstances, Yu was dismissed from office and E. Meyer & Co. chose a new gold mine — one that would later prove to be very displeasing. But as professor Andrei Lankov likes to say, that is another story.
Robert Neff is a contributing writer for The Korea Times.