Joseon Images Buried at Yanghwajin's cemetery for foreigners
Seoul Foreigners' Cemetery at Yanghwajin in western Seoul / Courtesy of Robert Neff
By Robert Neff
The Jeong-dong area, with its beautiful old churches, diplomatic compounds and Deoksu Palace, is often associated with the history of early Korean-Western relations. But there is another place that, according to historian Donald N. Clark, “encompasses more of the history of the West in Korea than in any area of like size” ― Seoul Foreigners' Cemetery at Yanghwajin.
This cemetery, located between the Han River and Hapjeong Station on Seoul Metro lines 2 and 6, is the final resting place of about 400 people ― mainly Americans and Europeans. As Clark noted, “a walk along the cemetery paths is a tour through the entire century of the Western impact on Korean life.”
Amongst the gravestones are tales of young lives ended before they really began; love rivalries and socially frowned-upon romances; victims of disease, accidents and conflict; and even a few of long, happy lives. Every stone represents a life and history that should be remembered. Like the stones of its inhabitants, the cemetery has its own story.
When John W. Heron, an American missionary doctor, died of dysentery on July 26, 1890, it left the small Western community in Seoul with a serious predicament. By Korean law, Heron could not be buried within the city. The foreigners' cemetery at Jemulpo (modern Incheon) was too far away.
According to agreements with the Korean government, land had to be provided for the establishment of a foreign cemetery in the vicinity of Seoul. The government first offered a sandy spot near the Han River, but the Western representatives deemed it unsuitable. The two sides eventually agreed upon a plot of land located next to Jeoldusan (head-chopping mountain) ― the execution site of Korean Christians in 1866.
Politics weren't the only obstacle to the cemetery. Many Koreans believed the area was haunted due to its dark past and this became an issue when a wall was built around the cemetery. The planners had failed to notice the cemetery's gate was placed near a Korean shrine used to appease the legions of dark spirits that were thought to dwell in the ground, air and water.
The Koreans residing in the area feared the malevolent spirits would be angered by foreign corpses being carried past the shrine. In order to placate their superstitious fears, part of the wall farthest from the shrine was knocked down and the Western corpses were ignobly conveyed through it to their graves.
It was only after the death of a Russian sailor that the Korean spirits were chased away.
According to one account, the Russian lieutenant in charge of the funeral procession refused to have the body taken through the hole in the wall but instead marched through the main gate ― near the shrine on the hill. But, before going in, he had his honor guard fire three volleys of rifle fire up the slope of the hill and “in the face of the hosts of devils.”
The sound of gunfire caused the evil spirits to flee and the Russian sailor was laid to rest in peace.
Through the use of gunpowder and determination, Westerners were no longer denied the use of the cemetery's gate and the spirit shrine soon fell into ruins. For several years, the cemetery seemed to be in danger of following the shrine's fate. In 1896, the editor of the English-language newspaper, The Independent, wrote:
“The wall round the cemetery has so fallen that dogs and fowls of the Korean villages nearby make use of the grounds as a rendezvous for their battles and frolics. The rank weeds and wild briars have grown unhindered, and have crowded out the patches of sod that have been placed there.”
He observed wryly that Koreans seemed to know better than the Westerners how to properly care for the dead. His editorial awoke the civic spirit in the small Western community and steps were taken to preserve the cemetery and those within.
Yanghwajin's cemetery has managed to survive the Japanese occupation, Korean War and urban development ― many others haven't. The foreigners' cemetery at Incheon has been moved at least three times and the cemetery at Pyongyang has completely disappeared.
Foreigners' cemeteries are from a past era. When asked if they would like to be buried in Korea, several long-term expats (those who have lived in Korea for more than two decades) declared they do not wish to be buried but would rather be cremated ― their ashes spread about familiar haunts or mountains ― and with no stone to mark their passing. They will simply disappear into the past ― forgotten.
Robert Neff is a historian and columnist for The Korea Times. He can be reached at robertneff103@gmail.com.