Robert Neff has authored and co-authored several books, including Letters from Joseon, Korea Through Western Eyes and Brief Encounters.
Friedrich A. Kalitzky: A Polish or German Mystery (Part 1)
Kalitzky's grave at Incheon Foreigners Cemetery, circa 2018.
By Robert Neff
One of the more interesting and puzzling gravestones at Incheon's Foreigner Cemetery is that of Friedrich A. Kalitzky. We can see that he was born in Konigsberg on September 10, 1872, and died on March 19, 1934, in Seoul but the stone was not placed until nearly four and a half years later by Emily. It isn't clear who Emily was ― perhaps she was his wife or daughter.
She obviously loved him because his stone is quite large and adorned with an anchor, cross and heart and, as evidenced by the small stone posts, was once protected by a small fence.
A great deal of money was spent to ensure that he was remembered but it seems to have failed for we know so little about him.
The cross and heart are easy to surmise ― religious faith and love ― but what does the anchor imply? It would be easy to assume he was a sailor but from the little we know about him, this seems very unlikely. There is also the question of his nationality. Some sources claim he was Polish while others claim he was German. Both may be correct, as there was no Polish state in the late 19th century.
It isn't clear when and why Kalitzky came to the Far East but we do know that in 1892 he was a clerk at the German legation in Beijing and working for Maximilian August von Brandt, the German Minister for China.
It was von Brandt's last year as a diplomat. Von Brandt had fallen in love with the daughter of the American Minister to Korea (Augustine Heard) and, despite the age difference of a couple of decades, requested her hand in marriage. Minister Heard approved of the marriage but the German Kaiser did not. Von Brandt promptly resigned and traveled to Korea and married his blushing bride.
Is it possible that Kalitzky accompanied von Brandt to Korea? Probably not, but it is interesting to find Kalitzky working as an assistant at the German legation in Seoul from December 17, 1894, until February 10, 1897.
Jemulpo in the early 1900s.
In June 1897, Kalitzky opened up a general store near Deoksu Palace that sold “first class preserves, toilet articles, drugs, patient medicines, paints, liquors and wines.” Apparently, he was a gifted speaker and put this skill to use by working part-time as an auctioneer. At some point, he sold his house in Seoul for a large sum of money ($15,000) and used that money to rebuild his store.
While his store was being built, he obtained employment as the constable at the American legation in Seoul. It was a fairly easy job. The American community in Seoul and Jemulpo [modern Incheon] was fairly small and composed primarily of missionaries and their families. But this peaceful tranquility was shattered when George Lake, an elderly American merchant in Jemulpo, was found bludgeoned to death in his bed on August 30, 1898. Suspicion quickly fell upon one of Lake's friends, a Scottish-American gold miner named John Flanagan.
Before the murder, there was no place to confine Americans in Seoul, so Horace Allen, the American Minister, used his own money to have a jail built on the American legation grounds. Flanagan was not only its first prisoner ― he was also the first prisoner to escape. It isn't clear how he escaped but circumstantial evidence seems to indicate that he merely walked out of his cell. That Kalitzky had failed to lock it. I suspect that Kalitzky's fondness for alcohol may have played some role in Flanagan's brief “taste of the joy of freedom.”
Flanagan was quickly recaptured (less than a day after his escape) and Kalitzky was as equally as quick fired. But Kalitzky does not seem to have been too concerned about his loss of employment ― he had other concerns.
New buildings in Seoul in the late 1890s or early 1900s.
Allen once mentioned in his correspondences home that he had gently pressured a German working for him to get married. It seems that the German had impregnated a Russian woman living in Seoul and Allen urged him to make it right by marrying her. It seems probable that he was talking about Kalitzky.
With the construction of the new building complete, he and his new wife once again opened the general store and announced in the English-language newspaper that not only did he sell foreign goods but also did “auctioneering, brokerage and forwarding” as well as “fixing and repairing electric bells, lamps and telephones, bicycles, typewriters and all kinds of mechanical articles.”
He also contemplated opening his own small hotel but apparently gave up on the idea when he realized he could not compete with the other hotels being built.
What became of Kalitzky's businesses is unclear. We do know that in the early 1930s (just before he died) he was living in a house near present-day Sajik tunnel. Even the cause of his death is unknown for I have been unable to find his obituary in the local newspapers. His name, for the most part, is unrecorded in the pages of the past, with the exception of the incidents involving his two great passions ― bicycles and alcohol ― which we will examine tomorrow.