![]() Wood merchants in Korea circa 1903 / Courtesy of Robert Neff Collection |

In the mid-1890s, the intrepid British explorer, Isabella Bird Bishop, wrote:
“All day long, bulls laden with brushwood to a great height are entering the city, and at six o’clock this pine brush, preparing to do the cooking and warming for the population, fills every lane in Seoul with aromatic smoke, which hangs over it with remarkable punctuality.”
Her comments seem to echo those of many of the early visitors to Korea including a young British diplomat who, in 1883, reported the streets were filled with firewood laden horses and oxen and that the country did not appear to have any laws regarding the harvest of timber.
According to him, “Everyone is at liberty to cut as much wood as he likes and bring it into the city for sale.”
However, almost in the same breath, he contradicted his earlier observation by noting that he saw “foresters in the wooded parts within and without the walls, to warn people from cutting wood, which they do by uttering a loud peculiar shout easily recognized.”
Brushwood and timber were sold for exorbitant prices and it is no surprise that many people poached timber. To curtail the wanton harvests of the forests around Seoul, laws were created with severe consequences for those who breached them.
In the early 1900s, a village outside of Seoul declared that anyone found cutting down a large pine would be taken to the magistrate for severe punishment. Those who cut down one to 10 young pine trees received a lesser punishment of 50 lashes. Trimming large branches earned the offender 30 lashes and for small branches 15 lashes — in addition to a hefty fine. Those who cut down large trees, other than pines, received 30 lashes and a very large fine.
Even pine needles were protected. Anyone discovered shaking trees in order to gather needles was fined.
But, there were more than a few people willing to take the chance to make a quick buck. Unfortunately for them, not all of them succeeded in keeping their nefarious deeds from the knowledge of the police.
In April 1896, a former royal grave keeper was found guilty of selling some 80 large pine trees that had once stood in one of the royal graveyards. It is unclear what his punishment was but undoubtedly it was quite severe.
Koreans were not the only ones guilty of illegally cutting down trees.
In the Yeoju area there was a very old tree that was “held in great veneration by the common people of those parts.” In April 1896, a group of Korean Catholics, allegedly under the orders of a French priest, tried to cut the tree down because they deemed it to be an item of idolatry.
Apparently, the wooded slopes of Mt. Nam were frequently poached by the Japanese and Chinese in the mid 1890s. In late April 1896, a group of Japanese woodcutters were discovered chopping down centuries-old elm trees. A subsequent investigation revealed the woodcutters had been authorized by the Japanese legation so that training aids could be made for the Japanese soldiers.
The Korean government responded by establishing several police posts on the mountain to watch for timber thieves. Their vigilance was soon rewarded when they caught a Chinese man poaching timber.
Humans were not the only predators.
During pine grub infestations, a member from each household was expected to serve for a three-day-period in an effort to eradicate the pests. Failure to do one’s part resulted in a fine.
By 1905, despite the efforts of the central and local governments, many of Korea’s once-wooded hills and mountains were denuded.
About this time, an American living in Jemulpo (nowadays Incheon) attributed, perhaps jokingly, the deforestation of Korea as the result of an effort to eradicate the tiger by removing its habitat — the forests.
Unfortunately it was greed, rather than fear, that was the true cause of Korea’s deforestation.
Robert Neff is a contributing writer for The Korea Times.