(87) American Constable Daniel Coleman

By Robert Neff

In the late 19th century more and more Westerners — especially Americans — began to flock to Korea for employment at the large gold mines in the north, the Seoul-Jemulpo Railroad and the Electric Company in Seoul. While many of them were law-abiding men, others made it necessary for the American legation to hire a constable.

One of the most eccentric and longest employed constables at the American legation was a wild Irish-American named Daniel Coleman. Much of his past has been lost with the passage of time but we know that he was a former American sailor who served in the Philippine campaign during the Spanish American War of 1898. When he finished his military service he drifted to Seoul where he was promptly hired by Horace N. Allen, the American Minister to Korea.

Coleman was extremely personable and got along with most of the foreign community. He also proved to be indispensible to the American legation serving not only as constable and guardian of the legation jail’s sole prisoner — John Flannagan, an Irish-American found guilty of murdering a fellow American in Jemulpo in 1898 — but also as secretary; filing and typing reports. Allen also used him as a personal servant. Coleman was required to play the pianoe-ette at Allen’s dinner parties for his guests’ entertainment and was put to work on Allen’s Jemulpo estate planting trees.

The American constable’s life was generally easy. His monthly salary was $50 in gold, he received a house on the legation grounds, a servant, and had relative job security. But the duty was tedious and unchallenging and, like other members of the legationstaff, sought escape through a bottle. Coleman was an extremely heavy drinker and spent most of his nights out carousing with the other young unmarried non-missionary men of the Western community.

Allen’s personal correspondences are filled with references to Coleman’s drunkenness and Allen’s desire to fire him. He probably would have been fired except the American legation’s Secretary and Consul General, Gordan Paddock, was allegedly (Allen’s claims) even more of a drunkard and less capable than Coleman.

Eventually through Allen’s nagging and threatening Coleman managed to sober up. In 1902 Allen reported Coleman as “developing into a real good and useful man, and does not get drunk much anymore.” He later described him as a “faithful fellow” and one that he could not do without.

But by December 1903, Coleman — possibly influenced by the legation guard of American sailors and marines — began drinking again. Allen complained that the “ladies and gentlemen [of the foreign community] will not transact their business with Coleman whom they see drunk on the streets. The final straw was a couple of weeks later when Coleman went on a three-day drinking binge and was absent from work during a very volatile period. Allen tried to encourage Coleman to reenlist with the navy where he would have the proper restraint that he needed. When Coleman discovered that Allen was going to replace him he promised to immediately sober up and managed to do so for a month or two but the call of alcohol was too strong and he was fired.

After his dismissal, Coleman made his way to Shanghai, China, where he was employed first as a guard at the municipal jail and then as a collector for the city waterworks. Apparently he was unable to find enjoyment in either of these jobs and asked Allen for assistance in returning to Korea and finding employment. Allen complied and wrote a letter of recommendation to the manager of the Oriental Consolidated Mining Company [OCMC] stating amongst other things that Coleman had given up alcohol and would be one of the best employees the mine could ever hire. He was promptly employed and remained with the mines for a number of years before his named disappeared from the company’s roster. What became of him is unknown.

Robert Neff is a contributing writer for The Korea Times.