Seoul's 1903 streetcar riot

Foreigners board a streetcar Seoul in 1900. Robert Neff Collection

By Robert Neff

• Published Jan 28, 2024 9:39 AM KST
• Updated Jan 28, 2024 4:48 PM KST

In the early 1900s, streetcars were a ubiquitous sight in Seoul as they raced through the streets. Different people viewed them in different ways. To some, they were symbols of modern technology, the awakening of the Hermit Kingdom. To others they were vehicles of liberation. They were greatly responsible for the end of the nightly curfew and the closing of the gates. They helped free women from the social-enforced segregation of their homes. They transported people of all classes, gender and ages.

However, to some of the superstitious people, they were responsible for droughts. The streetcars’ tracks ran over the back of the dragon sleeping beneath the city, infuriating him and causing him to deny the city rain. Others claimed the electric wires disrupted nature — especially the clouds, which were sucked up leaving the city to suffer from long droughts.

For the foolish and unwary, they were a source of death — horribly mangled beneath the wheels. And that is what happened on Sept. 30, 1903.

The Korea Review, a magazine published in Seoul, reported that “a young boy was run over and killed.” It explained, “Such accidents are very deplorable but they are almost inevitable where the children are so very careless as they are in Seoul and where they all play on the street.” However, a Japanese newspaper noted the young boy was actually 13 or 14 years old — perhaps suggesting he should have been more aware of his surroundings than a younger child.

“Great excitement ensued,” declared the Korea Review, “[as the] Korean populace, which does not attempt to decide which party is at fault, attacked the car…” Not only did they attack the car, they also attacked several foreigners.

It is difficult to give an accurate account of what happened right after the fatal accident because the supporting accounts are muddled and often contradictory. Almost immediately, a large crowd gathered and attacked the streetcar. Presumably, the passengers and crew either joined the mob or fled for their lives. One man, however, was not quick enough to make good his escape.

Eugene A. Elliot, a 30-year-old American from Texarkana, Texas, “was dragged down and beaten into a state of semi-unconsciousness.” Some accounts claim Elliot was merely a passenger, but others claim he “was in charge of the electric car” when it struck the boy. Although Elliot was an employee of the streetcar company, it seems very unlikely he was the driver as his role in the company was the clerk. Prior to his arrival in Korea in 1900, he appears to have worked in China as a stenographer.

The Korea Review reported that Elliot “was considerably hurt but succeeded in extricating himself from a rather dangerous situation.” Unfortunately, the magazine did not elaborate on how Elliot extricated himself from the mob, so we are forced to rely upon a Japanese newspaper's account. According to it, Kumagaye, a telegram deliveryman, happened to ride up on his bicycle. “Elliot seized the handle [bars], and Kumagaye dismounted in surprise, whereupon the American mounted quickly and rode off…” The Korea Review did mention Kumagaye but merely described him as “a Japanese who aided [Elliot] to escape” — which, incorrectly, seems to imply the deliveryman voluntarily put his own life in jeopardy to help the American.

As Elliot rode away, the mob turned its attention to Kumagaye whom they charged “with having abetted the American’s flight.” The deliveryman prudently fled to a nearby Japanese shop — Asada’s Haberdashery.

Despite the shopkeeper’s pleas, the mob surged in and completely wrecked the shop — severely injuring Kumagaye and a “member of Asada’s household.” A picture of the destroyed business was published in the Yomiuri Shimbun (newspaper) which reminded the editor of The Japan Weekly (newspaper) “of a house in Gifu after the great earthquake.” Apparently he was talking about the 8.0 earthquake that struck on the morning of Oct. 28, 1891.

Also caught up in the affair was William H. Emberley, an Englishman and the proprietor of the Station Hotel in Seoul. According to the Korea Review, he “acted with great promptness and bravery, and single-handedly drove back the crowd which was acting in a very threatening manner.” For his heroic defense of the streetcar company’s property, he was “handsomely rewarded” but it probably meant nothing to him: his young daughter, Pearl, died suddenly on Oct. 9.

According to the Jiji Shimpo’s correspondent in Seoul, as there were “indications of an attack by the ignorant populace on the offices of the electric railway company where several Japanese are employed,” the Japanese authorities dispatched four Japanese policemen to help guard the compound. Later it was revealed that the American Legation had asked the Japanese authorities to provide the police.

For nearly 50 minutes the mob wreaked havoc without anything being done to restrain them. The editor of the Korea Review wanted to know where the Korean police were, as “one would think that such mob violence would call for police interference if anything would.” The streetcar company and the Japanese Legation were also curious as to why the police did not intervene.

The Japan Weekly’s editor was incredulous when he learned “that six or seven out of every ten of the rioters are said to have been soldiers, and, further, that a party of soldiers and gendarmes under the command of officers passed when the disturbance was at its height but failed to adopt any repressive measures…” He added that it was hard to believe it was true, but a review of the American diplomatic archive indicates Horace Allen, the American minister to Korea, also reported Korean soldiers were involved.

The Japan Weekly surmised that the rioting soldiers “took the opportunity to wreck the shop of the haberdasher, Asada, to whom several of them owed money for clothes. Their idea was to destroy the proofs of their indebtedness."

The governor of Seoul and the Japanese Consul visited the site in an effort to come to an agreement on reparations. The Japanese government demanded the chiefs of police and gendarmes should be reprimanded and were also ordered to offer sincere apologies to the Japanese Legation. The rioters — civilians, soldiers and police — were to be punished. Kumagaye’s medical expenses were to be paid, and he would receive hazard pay which was to be defrayed by the Korean government. The Korean government was also required to compensate Asada for the damage to his business — if the government delayed in making the payment, interest would be incurred immediately. And, finally, if the incident should be repeated, the Japanese government would establish its own police stations throughout Seoul and the Korean government would be responsible for the costs.

As for the American streetcar company, there were still problems. Two weeks after the riot, it was reported Mrs. Collbran, the wife of the streetcar company’s owner, was injured by stones thrown at her.

According to Allen, “the presence of Japanese police as a protection to the electric power house, was most distasteful to the Korean [government]” and a request was made for them to be removed. This request was eventually complied with, but the American company wanted compensation from the Korean government for its failure to protect the streetcars and their drivers.

The Korean foreign affairs minister “[refused] to entertain the subject and [stated] that he wished to hear no more on the subject.”

The final outcome of this riot is unclear. Other events dominated the Korean government’s attention — the Korean Peninsula would soon be the center of the Russo-Japanese War.

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