Robert Neff has authored and co-authored several books, including Letters from Joseon, Korea Through Western Eyes and Brief Encounters.
Seoul’s ancient ‘Liberty Bell’
The great bell of Jongno in the early 20th century / Robert Neff Collection
By Robert Neff
In the summer of 1952, Seoul was a vortex of destruction and rebuilding as the war raged on to the north. Stationed with the American military in Seoul, Lt. Col. John Q. Timbrell was no stranger to the horrors of war. Years earlier, he had served on the military tribunal that tried Nazi war criminals at the infamous Dachau concentration camp in Germany — a place he described as a “murder factory.”
A view of the streets of Seoul from a broken window in 1954 / Robert Neff Collection
In an account published in his hometown newspaper, Timbrell explained that Seoul had once been a walled city with eight gates: four main gates named after the cardinal directions and four smaller gates — also named after the cardinal directions, such as Small North Gate or Small West Gate. But that was in the past. The city wall, no longer serving any use, had long ago disappeared. Only “two of the gates remain intact today as mementoes of the past,” he observed.
There was another remnant associated with the gates — the great bell. Timbrell claimed that in 1380, every family in Seoul who could afford it donated a small amount of metal for its construction. The collected metal was brought to the bell’s mold located in a “quarry-type setting in the hills” and melted down.
“Fifty-two tons of metal were melted down and cast into this most famous of all Korean bells. It is 12 inches [30 cm] in thickness. Metals included in the bell are: bronze, brass, steel, silver, copper and 550 pounds [250 kilograms] of gold.”
It was a slow process and the bell was not completed until around 1415. When it had cooled down enough to be moved, “it was turned on its side and rolled to its place of use in Seoul. The efforts of fifteen hundred persons were required to roll the bell to the city.”
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Timbrell briefly explained that “the bell was struck at five o’clock in the afternoon as a signal for all gates to be closed and thereby shutting off the city for the night and protecting the inhabitants from wild animals, bandits, or marauding armies or enemies. At five o’clock in the morning, the bell was sounded again as a signal for all gates to be opened.”
His simple description neglected to mention the purpose most Westerners associated with the bell: the curfew that confined the city’s male population to their homes and allowed women the freedom of the streets. This custom ended not as a result of war, but of progress. The introduction of the streetcar in the late 1890s prevented the gates from being closed and ended the bell’s primary function.
An American soldier’s view of Seoul in 1953 / Robert Neff Collection
According to Timbrell:
“After the bell was no longer of any use as a signal device it became a sort of town clock, and was struck every four hours to announce the time.”
The bell continued to serve in this manner throughout the 35-year-long Japanese occupation. However, with Korea’s liberation in 1945, it was reborn as a symbol. Timbrell wrote, “The big bell was then designated as the Freedom Bell, or, the Liberty Bell of Korea, and was respected and revered in a manner similar to our own beloved and cherished Liberty Bell.”
The Korean people, Timbrell explained, saw “the bell as a symbol of free men” and wanted no part of the “Communist International religion.”
He suggested that this belief may have played a role in actions of the Chinese and North Koreans when they were forced out of Seoul. As they retreated, they set fire to the wooden structure in which the bell was enshrined. When the building collapsed, “the preponderant weight of the bell caused it to imbed itself several feet in the ground. The Chinese didn’t have time to destroy or inflict damage to the bell itself.”
Nor were they able to take it with them. In 1952, Timbrell estimated the bell’s value at half a million dollars, though its true worth was not in the metal, but in what it represented. With assistance from the American armed forces, South Korea was determined to restore the bell as a national symbol of freedom.
According to Timbrell:
“A new [building] is being erected on a selected spot at the edge of Bell Street Circle. The supporting columns and beams are made of concrete reinforced by (14”) fourteen inch steel [I-beams.] The U.S. Armed Forces are donating the concrete, steel, wood and engineering equipment. The Patriotic Youth League of Korea is donating labor. Each young man member of the League of Korea is donating labor. Each young man member of the League takes a day off from work, or duties, from time to time and helps with the construction work. The carpenters, carvers, painters, and stone masons are paid by funds of the Government of the Republic of Korea.”
While much of Seoul has vanished beneath the heavy hand of modern development, the bell remains — and continues to serve as a symbol of hope. Every year, it rings in the New Year, carrying with it wishes for peace and prosperity.
My sincere appreciation to Diane Nars for her invaluable assistance.