Mt. Bukhan in the 1890s: An escape from Seoul’s heat

Mount Bukhan in the fall of 2014 / Robert Neff Collection

By Robert Neff

• Published Jul 28, 2025 11:45 AM KST
• Updated Jul 28, 2025 1:59 PM KST

Seoul is extremely hot and uncomfortable during the summer. In the 1990s, there weren’t as many high-rise apartments as there are now, and a large part of the population lived in neighborhoods of small, closely packed buildings and townhouses. Many of these homes did not have the luxury of air conditioning and depended upon open windows and electric fans for relief.

While open windows allowed cooling breezes to enter, they were also open invitations to one of the most annoying pests of the summer — mosquitoes. It was a no-win situation: close the windows and suffer in the stifling heat, or open them and contend with the blood-sucking, buzzing nightmares that even mosquito coils could not keep at bay. And all of it was made worse by the humidity.

A century earlier, summers in Seoul may have been even worse. In a letter home in late July 1893, Sallie Swallen, an American missionary, wrote:

“The weather has been very warm now for one week almost every day the thermometer has stood at 88 & 90 [Fahrenheit, or about 31 or 32 degrees Celsius] in our sitting room, and of course much warmer in the sun. You cannot know how bad the mosquitoes are out here. We have mosquito-bars at our windows, but they were not enough. Two or three nights we were dreadfully bothered, so we had to put a large Chinese net over our bed and then tuck it down all under the mattress, and then if we were not careful they would slip in when we were getting in.”

She should have counted her blessings that she was not in Seoul the previous year. According to “the oldest resident” in Jemulpo (part of modern-day Incheon), who had a “pretty lengthy” memory to draw upon, the summer of 1892 was the hottest he could remember.

Swallen, however, enjoyed a luxury that many of her Korean neighbors did not — her husband had built her an icebox. In her letter, she assured her family that “we don’t live so bad” in Seoul, as “we get ice twice each day, costs us about 9 cents a day, and can keep all the food so nice. As we boil all the water we drink I put it in bottles and keep two on the ice cooling all the time. So we have almost ice-water constantly.”

Ms. Mary E. Greathouse, the mother of Clarence Greathouse, an American advisor to the Korean court, was troubled not only by the heat, but also by her teeth. Taking advantage of a visiting dentist who had set up shop temporarily in Seoul, she made a series of appointments to get her teeth in good order. In her diary she explained that she had “the obnoxious tooth taken out, [it] hurt me, some, of course, but it was done quickly…” She then lamented that she had to return the next day to have “another tooth plugged.”

Her stoicism, however, gave out, and she begged off her next appointment — offering the dentist a bribe: dinner at her house. He accepted and, undoubtedly, the main topic at the dinner table — as they ate their ice cream — was the “intolerable” heat and her best friends: her fan and ice bag.

Taking pity upon her situation, several missionaries in Seoul invited her to stay with them on Mount Bukhan “and share the change of living on the mountain top where it is cooler.” She had mixed emotions, as it meant living in a small room in a temple and “[taking] everything to keep house with, even to candles and a wash basin.” Still, she added, she hoped she would enjoy it — noting that she liked picnicking, as long as she had a good bed at night.

On Monday, July 31, Greathouse awoke early, had breakfast and set out for the missionaries’ camp on Mount Bukhan — at 4 a.m. She did not travel lightly. She rode in a palanquin (chair) carried by a team of six bearers, with two men hauling her baggage, bedding, two chairs, her bed and other goods. She was also attended by her teenage Korean servant John, and accompanied by Mr. Remedios, a Portuguese friend.

In her diary she noted that she hardly enjoyed the trip, as she was not feeling well, but acknowledged that every possible thing had been done for her comfort and convenience. “The road was very bad I thought in many places, especially as we neared the end, going up hills, around hills, over rocks, across cracks and it seemed to me we were a long while getting 10 miles.”

They arrived at 9 a.m., nearly five hours after setting out, and were offered breakfast. Greathouse was exhausted and only sipped a little coffee, having lost her appetite along the way — “a very unusual thing to happen to me,” she noted in her diary.

Over the next couple of days, her diary entries were filled with a litany of minor complaints and casual observations. She acknowledged that her room was cooler than Seoul, but the terrain was too steep for her to easily visit the growing number of missionaries and their families scattered along the mountain in tents and temples. “The more the merrier,” she cheerfully wrote, adding that she was treated nicely and felt right at home.

There were other arrivals. On Aug. 4, Patsy, the wife of Rev. William Davis Reynolds, gave birth to her “first child in a rude Buddhist Temple, a bed on the floor, no outside doors, only straw mats hung up for doors.” It was a joyous occasion that soon turned to sorrow when the little boy died ten days later.

There were other grieving parents. The Ohlingers, who had recently lost two of their children to kidney complications, were also at the camp. In her diary, Greathouse wrote: “[Mrs. Ohlinger] is very troubled yet about her children. It seems she is just now beginning to realize they are dead. She weeps and talks all the time, and her friends try to change her thoughts & etc.”

Greathouse did her best to comfort the distraught mother, but her own mood had begun to darken. She was homesick and longed to be with her own son. In her diary, she confessed, “I get low spirited at times, but I know it is not right in me to indulge such thoughts.”

Yet despite her efforts, her spirits — along with nearly everything in the camp — were dampened by the rainy season. Showers were frequent, making it nearly impossible for her to socialize with the much younger missionaries, some of whom, she insinuated, considered her too old and “must be put up on the shelf” for her own protection.

Self-pityingly, she wrote, “I am sorry I am not able to run over these hills, and see the scenery from afar up but it is too steep and I must content myself with a look from a distance.”

Yet, the missionary accounts suggest she was welcomed. Mattie Wilcox Nobles, a missionary, described Greathouse as “an old lady whose son is auditor to the king, [and] seemed to enjoy coming over to our tent & having us sing.”

Greathouse’s situation was rather ironic. She had come to the camp seeking change and companionship but instead found herself stuck in monotony and loneliness. She longed to return home to her son, and to the comforts and familiarity of her own house in front of Gyeonghui Palace — but it was too dangerous to be carried down the mountain in the rain.

Her son tried to comfort her by sending letters, vegetables and even a cake, but as the days passed, she felt more and more alone.

However, there were some good days. One morning, she wrote:

“I think I am feeling more natural this early morning and outside of my window, a Buddhist priest and his cook and attendants have their quarters and my boy John boards with them, getting his native food and as I see them partaking of this breakfast I think I have some appetite indeed he brought me a bowl of something yesterday evening and I believe it was enjoyed more than anything since I have been here. I sent the priest some cash and I think he will send me some more today — a change anyhow.”

She did not mention what the priest sent her in a bowl, but it may have been makgeolli — a Korean rice wine. Over the next couple of years, her diary would occasionally reference the priests sending her makgeolli as gifts, likely in exchange for small donations. Greathouse was not shy about self-medicating, and even brought a bottle of her “medical cordial” so that she could take a “dose” when needed, as seen in her diary entry for August 20:

“We had what was unusual, [a] small quarrel between our head Priest and some of his servants who live with him here. He was drunk and boisterous even if he is a Temple man. Anyhow Dr. Vinton interfered and it grew so exciting that Dr. had to push him down and I feared it might result seriously, after so long a time, he became a little more quiet not however, till he struck the small temple boy, then Dr. saw that he did not repeat the blow.”

Nobles also described the incident:

“One morning the chief priest was intoxicated. It is against the rules for a priest to drink, but these seemed not to mind the rules. He struck a little boy priest across the back with a great piece of wood, & flew around there like a wild man for a time.”

Fortunately for Greathouse, the following day was warm and sunny — the predicted rain shower failed to appear. Taking advantage of the good weather, it was decided that she could risk it. Her chair bearers were summoned and she began her trip home at four in the afternoon.

In her typical manner, she reported: “Thanks to God for all of his care … Nothing happened to make me afraid much except at times [when] it seemed [the chair would] summersault [sic] to make a short turn in the road or winding path and if a bee line was measured it would seem more like we had made 20 miles than 10.”

They arrived in Seoul just minutes before the city gates closed for the night. Had they not made it, they would have been forced to spend the night in one of the Korean inns or face the dangers of encountering a tiger or leopard, which still prowled the area.

In the days that followed, Greathouse’s spirits and appetite improved. The familiarity of her own house and bed, along with her son’s constant companionship, contributed to this improvement. Somewhat surprisingly, she found the temperatures in Seoul cooler than on the mountain — apparently unaware that while she was away, “the thermometer [in Seoul] registered 109 & 112 [Fahrenheit or 42 and 45 degrees Celsius] in the shade.”

She was glad to be home and concluded that her chances of ever returning to Mount Bukhan were slim.

My appreciation to Diane Nars and Hyunuk Park for their invaluable assistance.