Korean emperor and American princess: Part 1
Jemulpo (modern day Incheon) in the early 20th century / Robert Neff Collection
In the summer of 1905, Korea’s political situation was dire. The Russo-Japanese War ended on Sept. 5 with the signing of the Treaty of Portsmouth, but Korea’s continued existence as an independent country was in jeopardy. Its military was weak, and though it had treaties with several foreign governments, it was doubtful that any would come to Korea’s aid in its hour of need. What Korea desperately needed was a popular figure in the West who could champion its cause — especially to the American president.
Fortune seemed to be with Korea. A large American delegation made up of congressmen, senators, businessmen and their wives was touring China, Japan, the Philippines and Hawaii. Part of the group planned to visit Korea. Even more remarkable, Alice Roosevelt, the 21-year-old daughter of American President Theodore “Teddy” Roosevelt was among them. She and her party were scheduled to arrive at Jemulpo (modern-day Incheon) on Sept. 19.
According to Williard D. Straight, the 25-year-old American vice consul in Seoul, the Koreans were desperate and grasping at anything that might save them. To their “jaundiced imaginations,” the Roosevelt party “looked like a life preserver.” Emperor Gojong was determined to make a favorable impression upon Alice Roosevelt — who was often called “the American Princess” in the press — in hopes she might secure for Korea a measure of “American sympathy.”
Preparations for her arrival were made immediately, and at great cost.
A Korean home with the Korean and American flags displayed / Courtesy of the Division of Rare and Manuscript Collections, Cornell University Library
According to The Korea Review, a monthly magazine published in Seoul, Korean merchants in Seoul and Jemulpo prepared for her visit by buying or making American flags. Soon, the Stars and Stripes were proudly flying alongside Korean flags. The magazine noted that “the Japanese, Koreans and foreign residents all vied with each other in attentions to the distinguished visitors.”
Alice Roosevelt and the yellow imperial palanquin / Courtesy of the Division of Rare and Manuscript Collections, Cornell University Library
But not everyone believed the welcome was purely out of courtesy. The editor of The Korea Review suggested that “this show of bunting was caused not simply out of courtesy to the young lady but through some nebulous idea that this visit had some political significance and that it indicated a possibility that the American Government might help Korea out of her present parlous situation.”
The preparations did not all go smoothly. The initial plan was to convey the delegation by a special train (the emperor’s own private train car) from Jemulpo to Seoul, where they would be met at the station by a welcoming party. An imperial carriage, drawn by two grand black horses and attended by four men in brilliant red uniforms, was to be placed at Roosevelt’s disposal. Unfortunately, a problem was soon discovered — the attendants were too large for their uniforms.
In his personal correspondence, Straight sheds light — or rather shade — on the conditions of the imperial stable. He claimed that of the many horses the emperor had purchased only a few years earlier, just six remained. The rest, he alleged, “had been eaten by hungry stablemen.” Where Straight obtained this information is unclear, and judging by some of his other remarks, it was probably maliciously exaggerated. In truth, many of the horses had probably been commandeered during the war. However, the stables clearly had their problems. When the author Jack London visited the previous year during the war, he discovered, to his surprise and later amusement, that his horse was blind.
Korean children stand with Korean and American flags / Courtesy of the Division of Rare and Manuscript Collections, Cornell University Library
Straight, in his mocking tone, added:
“The scheme was to have a squad of Korean cavalry escort Miss Roosevelt to the Legation, the Korean army to be lined up along the route and fire salutes as she passed. But [the American Legation] stopped that, because the Korean cavalry can only stick on by hanging on to the pommels of their saddles and at any function are always sure to fall off, while their ponies invariably run away.”
When the carriage plan collapsed, it was decided that Roosevelt would instead be carried to the legation in the imperial yellow palanquin. Straight, disappointed at being “deprived of the special circus parade,” lamented that it was “really a shame, for it would have been the greatest thing of its kind that even the Emperor of Korea ever perpetrated.”
Others, however, were less negative in their observations.
Alice Roosevelt at the American Legation in Seoul in September 1905 / Courtesy of the Division of Rare and Manuscript Collections, Cornell University Library
When the train arrived at the station, Roosevelt and her party were greeted by the imperial Korean band playing “The Star-Spangled Banner.” They were welcomed by foreign diplomats, Korean officials and prominent businessmen. Korean policemen and Japanese gendarmes lined the freshly paved streets, and as the party passed, bugles sounded while the imperial bodyguard stood at present arms.
As in Jemulpo, “most of the houses in the city had been decorated with Korean and American flags, some of the latter lacking an occasional star or stripe, or showing somewhat of a variety in color, but all bearing evidence of a uniform desire to honor the nation’s guest," one observer noted.
The American Legation compound in the early 20th century / Courtesy of Diane Nars Collection
Years later, Roosevelt recalled her arrival in Seoul:
“The streets of Seoul were crowded with white-robed Koreans and lined with the Imperial Body Guard. An imperial yellow chair was provided to take me from the station to the Legation escorted by men carrying lanterns on long poles. Our passage was heralded by the bugles of the troops. Mrs. Newland and I stayed at the Legation, the others at a sort of guest house of the palace, on the other side of the compound wall.”
After such a long day of travel and the excitement of her welcome, it is likely she retired early that evening. The following day, however, would begin her brief stay in the Land of the Morning Calm — which, as we shall see in the next article, was marked by contradictions and lies.
My sincere appreciation to Diane Nars for her assistance and for allowing me to use one of her images. I would also like to express my thanks to Cornell University Library and its online collection of Willard D. Straight’s photographs and postcards.