Admiral Robley Evans' visit to Seoul in 1902: Part 1

Jemulpo (modern Incheon) in the early 1900s/ Courtesy of Diane Nars Collection

In early August 1902, Horace N. Allen, the American minister to Korea, received a message from Admiral Robley D. Evans informing him that the American fleet would arrive in Jemulpo (modern Incheon) on Aug. 6. The admiral added that he would appreciate it if Allen could arrange for him and his naval officers to have an audience with the Korean emperor on the following day. Allen promptly complied and the Korean palace immediately set to work on preparing for the audience and a banquet for the esteemed American naval officers.

Unfortunately for everyone, the American fleet was delayed and did not arrive in Jemulpo until the morning of Aug. 7. In a letter to his sons, Allen confided that he "had the mortification of having to have the affair put off till (the) next day (and) the Koreans did not like" the sudden change to the schedule. Years later, when Admiral Evans wrote his memoirs, he failed to mention the delay and the inconvenience it caused the Korean government and Allen.

It is easy to imagine that despite the heat of 25.4 degrees Celsius and occasional showers, crowds of people gathered along the waterfront to watch the American fleet sail in but in reality, the crowd was probably not that large as cholera was ravaging the peninsula as well as parts of China and Japan.

Allen, who frequently stayed at his Jemulpo residence (a large house overlooking the harbor) in the summer, was invited aboard the flagship for lunch ― apparently his wife was also invited but he managed to get her "excused from going on board." Her reluctance to go on board may have been because of the heat and the need to dress up formally but it might have been because she was ill as she was frequently suffering from nervous problems and stress. Allen, in his normal fashion, could not resist bragging about the event to their two sons:

"The men were all drawn up at quarters when I came on board. The band played Hail Columbia as I walked down the deck and the same thing happened at each of the four ships when I made my calls later. They are the Kentucky, - Flagship, New Orleans, Helena, and Vicksburg. Largest fleet we have ever had here at one time. After being nearly deafened by the 15 guns of my salute on leaving the Kentucky I begged to be excused from further salutes from the other ships. But as I came up the line of the ships in the Admirals steam cutter, the men were all drawn up and the band and bugles blowing, so I had to stand up and salute, and get my silk hat wet in the rain."

After the review of the warships, Allen, Admiral Evans and his staff then paid a visit to the British consulate. In his letter, Allen gushed: "The English are tickled greatly for I got the (fleet's) band to (agree to) play at the garden party in honor of the coronation of Eddie the seven times." The celebration of King Edward VII's coronation was to be held two days later, on Aug. 9, at the British Consulate in Chemulpo and at the British Legation in Seoul.

The admiral and his staff returned to their ships and Allen returned to his residence. That evening, the American warships provided the Jemulpo community with another display of Yankee strength and ingenuity:

"The Kentucky was a beautiful sight, she was all done in electric lights so that she stood out in a bold relief of fire. I rang the bell after dinner and when Charlie (Allen's Chinese cook) came I told him 'get a bucket of water quickly, the ship is on fire.' He forgot that a bucket of water would not do much good to a ship on fire five miles away, but started to execute the order, when I called him back and he enjoyed the joke."

It is interesting to note that none of the above is mentioned in Admiral Evans' memoirs. Perhaps he was jaded by these official events, but, contrastingly, he was very verbose with his opinions of Korea. It is a good thing he wasn't a diplomat. Even the notoriously undiplomatic Allen kept most of his negative comments confined to his personal letters.

The following morning, Admiral Evans, accompanied by his personal staff and the captains of two of the warships, boarded the Seoul-Chemulpo Railroad for the 26-mile journey to Seoul. He was far from pleased.

"The railroad over which we travelled, the cars and everything in connection with them, seemed in keeping with the wretched country through which we were riding. Dirt, poverty and misery were in evidence everywhere."

Horace Allen's residence in Jemulpo in 1899 while it was still being landscaped and finished/ Courtesy of Robert Neff Collection

Even the countryside did not elicit a compliment. He described the Korean homes as looking very similar to the people ― "poor and ill-looking." When a nice residence was seen in the distance, he was informed that it belonged to a Japanese gentleman. The Korean farms did not escape his criticism:

"There was little in the way of cultivation beyond patches of rice or melons. The natives lived almost exclusively on the former, and thousands of them die every year of cholera from eating the latter. The melons are really of fine quality, very whole some when properly eaten. The natives of the very poor classes eat them rind and all. The rind contains the cholera germ, and in this way the disease starts and spreads."

Admiral Evans' observation about watermelons was not unique. In the mid-1880s, Allen ― then a physician in Seoul ― urged the Western community in Seoul to avoid eating watermelons and cucumbers during the summer unless they were from trusted sources and only after being carefully washed.

The streets of Seoul in 1900/ Courtesy of Robert Neff Collection

He also pointed out that the land looked very fertile but the people would not cultivate it ― not out of laziness but "because everything they made beyond a bare living was promptly appropriated by the Emperor or his agents." It isn't clear who this source of information was but I am guessing it was Allen.

His impressions of Seoul were not much better:

"The view of the capital city as we approached it by rail was picturesque. The great wall surrounding it had withstood the hundreds of years that had passed since it was built, as well as the assaults of many armies. It was ugly, as ugly as all mud walls are, but picturesque. There was nothing green in sight from the outside only brown fields and mud-coloured walls. Inside the ancient gates, through which we passed as the guards presented arms and scowled at us, the view was not much better. The trees and scant shrubbery afforded some relief to the eyes, but everything else was brown. Dirty, filthy, dilapidated houses and dirty streets filled with dirty people extended in every direction. Even the soldiers were dirty and slouchy. The only modern or decent thing I saw was a small street railroad running through the main streets of the wretched city."

He was, of course, referring to the American-built streetcar system which was "doing a thriving business." I am somewhat surprised that Allen did not mention the company's success wasn't without an occasional accident.

The American consulate in Seoul circa 1910/ Courtesy of Diane Nars Collection

Allen took the admiral and his staff to the American Legation where they could freshen up before their audience with Emperor Gojong. Nothing escaped Evans' denigrating pen:

"Inside the compounds, or grounds, of the foreign ministers everything was different; shrubs and exquisite flowers filled the well-kept grounds; instead of the squalor of the natives, one found here comfort, luxury, and refinement, which only made the contrast more striking."

They did not wait long in the "comfort, luxury, and refinement" of the American Legation before it was time to make their way to the palace. As we shall see tomorrow, Admiral Evans' pen still had plenty of ink.

My appreciation to Diane Nars for her assistance and for allowing me to use some of her images.

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