Traveling on the Han River in the 19th Century: Part 2

A hand-colored postcard of the port of Jemulpo. Circa 1910-1920s. Robert Neff Collection

By Robert Neff

• Published Aug 14, 2022 1:24 PM KST
• Updated Aug 14, 2022 1:24 PM KST

By Robert Neff

After the Sino-Japanese War (1894-95), the fairly lucrative Han River steamboat business between Jemulpo (modern Incheon) and Seoul remained firmly and uncontested in the hands of Japanese enterprises, the primary one being the Shoji River Steamer Company.

Like its predecessors and competitors, Shoji River Steamer Company faced frequent groundings and increased displeasure from its customers. Complaints were frequent and occasionally were printed in the regional newspapers. An example of this is an article that appeared in The Independent in May 1896:

“Some gentlemen started last Saturday at noon from [Jemulpo] and came up the river on a Japanese steamer arriving in Seoul at 7 o'clock Sunday morning. It will be a glad day when a man can go by rail between these points instead of being at the mercy of these poor crafts.”

Travel on the river was considered so haphazard that many people were wary of using it to transport expensive property. When Muriel Armstrong Jaisohn (the wife of Philip Jaisohn) had her Steck piano transported from Jemulpo to Seoul, she requested the movers use a steamboat but her request was ignored by the forwarding agent and instead sent overland. According to her, “[T]wenty-one coolies brought the Piano to my house by oxcart, ropes and poles, making short cuts over frozen rice fields to save time and expenditure of energy.” She was amazed that despite receiving “such rough treatment” her piano arrived in perfect tune.

It should be noted that this was during the winter and the river was often frozen over making steamboat travel impossible and this may have been the real reason the forwarding agent sent it overland.

In August 1897, a resident of Jemulpo wrote a letter to the editor of The Independent in which he waxed of the “old days when streamers first began to ply between this port [Jemulpo] and the Capital.”

According to him, “It was very much of a lottery if you caught the steamer at all, and then the odds were even as to reaching your destination. The steamers generally walked the distance, feeling their way along with poles on each side and making it in anywhere from twelve to thirty-six hours. The channel was a mystery and you always counted on resting on a mud bank to eat your lunch. There is not a mud bank between [Jemulpo] and Seoul I have not eaten lunch on, at some time or other.”

But, he declared, those days were no more as faster and more impressive steamboats had been introduced to the river and were guided by “a race of pilots … who know the old river like a book.”

Somewhat poetically he concludes: “The trip on the Han has become a pleasure trip through [Arcadian] scenery instead of a plunge into the unknown.”

An early firsthand account of this enlightened travel on the river was by Esther Lucas Shields, an American missionary, who arrived in Jemulpo on October 13, 1897, with a small group of missionaries. She wrote:

“We [stayed] for dinner and supper [at Steward's Hotel], and went on the river steamer about ten o'clock. It was not to start until three a.m., but we thought it wisest to get on early. The cabin was about five feet high, seven feet broad and ten feet long. It had eight or ten small windows, two or three chairs, a spring-seat for two, and a little bench. The floor was carpeted, so we took our pillows and blankets, and all had 'lower berths.' We consisted of Dr. Field and self, Mr. and Mrs. Moore and children and a Frenchman. The floor was pretty well covered, and there was no room for Japanese passengers, so they kindly left us to have it.”

Although they did not sleep very well, they were, nonetheless, far more comfortable on the small steamboat than they were the previous night on the larger coastal steamer from Fusan (modern Busan). The thirty-six-hour passage was made in rough seas and most of the passengers became violently seasick.

Despite not sleeping well on the small riverboat, they did manage to work up an appetite and the ship's fare was much better than it was just a couple of years earlier:

“The next morning our breakfast was a regular picnic. We took some lunch at midnight, but had not put it up ourselves, and used a pocket knife to carve the chicken, and had to tear the bread apart, the crust was so tough. At breakfast, we borrowed some Japanese spoons and dishes, and in their tiny cups ate our soft-boiled eggs and stirred chocolate and condensed milk. It was very funny, and we laughed over it a good deal. You cannot half imagine it all.”

After eating, many of the Americans went up to the upper deck where they conversed with some of the Korean passengers or admired the scenery. Shields wrote:

“The morning on the Han River was perfect. The water smooth as glass, sometimes, the hills and sharp little mountain-like peaks with the villages by the shores, the blue sky, fine air and sunshine, and the fact that we were only a few miles from Seoul, all well, safe and happy were things enough for gratitude.”

In conclusion of her description, she wrote, “That sail up the river was so smooth that there was no possibility of sea sickness.”

Although it is only speculation, it is probably safe to assume she was somewhat alarmed when she read an article appearing in The Independent. According to the newspaper, on October 18, the river steamer Yasuki, bound for Seoul from Jemulpo, had an accident with her boiler. “Some plate on the boiler bulged out and would have burst, but fortunately the engineer noticed this and immediately drew out the fire.” The steamer and its passengers had been saved by the attentiveness of the crew ― but this wasn't always the case.

In December 1898, one of the Shoji River Steamer Company's newest steamboats was involved in a fatal accident:

“The new river steamer 'Sebi Muru' recently put on the run between Chemulpo and Seoul foundered on the evening of the 14th at a place some 15 miles below Yongsan and is now quite covered up by sand. Out of some 23 people on board, 17 were lost. The cargo is a total loss.”

The accident may have played some role in the eventual demise of the company but the railroad probably played the greater part. In the fall of 1899, the S.C.R.R. (Seoul & Chemulpo Railroad) began operations and river travel waned as passengers eagerly patronized the quicker and safer mode of transportation.

I would like to express my appreciation to Diane Nars for her invaluable assistance.

Robert Neff has authored and co-authored several books, including Letters from Joseon, Korea Through Western Eyes and Brief Encounters.