Robert Neff has authored and co-authored several books, including Letters from Joseon, Korea Through Western Eyes and Brief Encounters.
Harbingers of evil, disease, death: Feline fears of Joseon
The palace, circa 1900s. Robert Neff Collection
By Robert Neff
Prince Yi Jaesun ― the “Fat Prince,” circa 1900s. Robert Neff Collection
In the late 19th century, Korean cats rapidly went through their nine lives. They were despised by much of the population who viewed them as malignant spirits ― harbingers of evil, disease and death.
On the last night of the first day of the year, the yagwanggwi, a powerful evil spirit from the netherworld, assumed the shape of an enormous cat and prowled about looking for shoes left unguarded on Korean porches.
It was thought that if the demonic cat was able to place its fetid paw into a shoe, the shoe's owner would be plagued throughout the year with great misfortune or even death.
Naturally, people took precautions and secured their shoes (even worn and worthless ones) within the house. They also burned human hair in front of their houses ― its horrible stench was thought to be a powerful deterrent to the cat. One Western visitor to Korea in the 1890s wrote:
“The Korean carefully saves up during the year, every stray strand of hair from the pates of each member, young and old, of the household, and as all have long and luxuriant locks the hair crop is by no means small; this he burns at twilight on this night in the street in front of his gate or door, it being well known that the spirit cat cannot endure the scent of burning human hair and will give any house in front of which a liberal supply of hair has been burned a wide berth.”
He rather caustically noted: “I am assured on good authority that there is no well authenticated case where this cat has been seen in any house thus protected by these pungent fumes.”
It was believed that cats had such an evil aura around them that if they jumped over a corpse, the corpse would stand upright ― unable to rest with the cat present.
This superstitious fear of cats was also found among the nobles. Horace N. Allen, the American Minister to Korea, wrote:
“I have seen high Korean officials faint at dinner at a foreign legation when the family cat accidentally strayed into the room. One of these men, who was sitting next to me, on one occasion suddenly pitched over, his wide hat brim upsetting his glasses while his face fell in his plate. I carried him out and as he revived in the air he exclaimed the native word for cat.
“A kitten had strolled unobserved into the dining-room, and as the Korean was sitting where its mistress usually sat, the kitten climbed the ample gowns of the Korean and ensconced itself in his lap. Imagine looking down and finding a snake curled up in your lap at a dinner table in some strange place and you will appreciate how the Korean felt.”
Korean shamans, circa 1900-1920s. Robert Neff Collection
The Korean official he was speaking about was Prince Yi Jaesun (also known as the “Fat Prince”) who, even in the palace, was not safe from his feline tormentors.
“Into the room burst the emperor's uncle, the 'Fat Prince,' panting and perspiring and gasping 'that child will be the death of me,' and after him the baby [Lady' Om's son] with a cat in his arms and a flock of disturbed palace eunuchs.”
While many Westerners may have been amused with these extreme feline fears, things changed in 1901. John Joseph Newell ― the British legation's constable ― died a horrible death from hydrophobia after a cat bit him on the hand. He was only 36 and left a wife and two young daughters.
In Korea, cats were associated with disease ― especially cholera ― but as a prevention. The wife of an American diplomat in the mid-1890s wrote:
“The dreadful pain [the cholera sufferer] had in their bowels, they thought was evil spirits in the form of rats eating their insides, so they bought and drew pictures of large cats and hung them on the walls to scare the rats away.”
Mudangs (shamans) massaged victims with the skins of cats and made scratching sounds in hopes of frightening away the evil spirits of the disease.
Even landmarks that resembled cats were thought to have power over the disease. According to an article published in the Korea Review in 1901:
“The little village of Po-gang on the bank of the Han River about three miles from Seoul claims the distinction of being the only village or town in the country that is quite safe from cholera. The denizens of this quiet village point to the hill above them and say it is shaped like a cat's back.
“Now everyone knows that cramps in the legs, that attend cholera in its first stages, are due to the cholera 'rats' which enter at the feet and force their way up through the tissue of the legs. How else should these horrible wrenching pains arise? But living on the cat's back makes them safe from these rats.”
The editor added: “If, as is sometimes said, fear adds greatly to the danger of taking this disease, then it may be that their belief in the story adds to their safety since they surely feel quite safe.”