
Ryongwang Pavilion in Pyongyang hosted a U.S. delegation in 1891. / Robert Neff Collection.
By Robert Neff
One of the first diplomats to visit Pyongyang was Augustine Heard, the U.S. minister to Korea, in November 1891. He and his party (three naval officers and seven sailors) sailed up the Taedong River in a small steam launch.
After some difficulties, they finally arrived and disembarked at a wharf illuminated brilliantly with lanterns, where soldiers greeted them. According to Heard’s report to the State Department, the soldiers played both Korean and European music but they “mangled the notes of their bugles with the native pipes and drums.”
He was, however, impressed, at least initially, with the fanfare: “[The] scene as we passed up through the great [Taedong] Gate, with the variety of costumes and the swinging lanterns, was very picturesque.” But upon closer examination he noted the gate was “sadly in need of repair and paint _ as indeed are all the public buildings” in Pyongyang.
They were housed at Ryongwang Pavilion. Heard apparently hadn’t heard the tales of a brave gisaeng who helped assassinate a Japanese invader during the 1592-98 Imjin War, only knowing it was “devoted to the entertainment of guests and was in rather shabby condition, but had been freshly papered and matted” for his arrival. He declared it “amply sufficient.”
Once he was settled, he and his three officers called upon the governor.
“I was in my own chair, and the officers in full uniform in open Korean chairs on which leopard skins had been spread as is customary with native officials. People thronged the streets to see us pass, and were perfectly quiet and well disposed.”
Heard described the governor, Min Byeong-seok (1858-1940), as “a man 34 years old of medium size with a pleasant face and a frank outspoken address” and a “relative of the Queen,” calling his governor position “one of the most lucrative in the Kingdom.”
Heard thanked him for the fine reception and assured him he had wanted to visit Pyongyang earlier but had been unable due to poor health. He then broached the subject of his visit: to gather information and eventually see the city opened to foreign merchants and trade.
But Min was unimpressed. He declared the people of Pyongyang were “peculiarly unruly and quarrelsome and he feared they [would] not get on with strangers.” Heard decided not to push the issue.
Cigars, fruits and champagne were offered but, because none of the governor’s staff had experience in European cooking, there was no official dinner.
The following day, the governor took Heard’s delegation aboard his pleasure boat _ “a large scow with a painted roof, supported by pillars” _ to a great pavilion situated on the banks of the river for a performance of Korean music and dancing.
Heard was impressed:
“The situation was very beautiful. We were nearly at the angle where the city wall turns sharply from the river, and runs up a hill to the north. Before us we looked down the long reach of the river, sprinkled with boats, to where the view was closed by picturesque hills; the city and the city wall within the great gate to the right, and on our left across the stream the fertile plain stretched away to other hills in the distance. Around us were the soldiers and hundreds of other attendants in their varied garb.”
He was also pleased with “the great variety and number of dishes, nearly all of which were found highly palatable.”
The governor wondered _ but was too polite to ask _ why Heard wore “plain clothes” and not a uniform. He was especially curious about two African-American sailors. He wanted to know if they spoke English, their birthplace, how they came to have dark skin and if they were good men. Heard’s answers only “seemed to redouble his curiosity.”
They left the next day and the excitement associated with their visit was soon replaced with dissatisfaction for the governor. Min was not a well-liked man then or now. His infamous role in the loss of Korea’s independence to Japan has sullied his name forever.