The dangers of making money

A postcard from 1912 / Robert Neff Collection

By Robert Neff

On July 10, 1883, Korean authorities arrested an international ring of counterfeiters on a small island off the coast of Jemulpo (the former name of today's Incheon). The seven men ― four Koreans and three Japanese ― were found with several thousand units of counterfeit money (in Korean coins) and the tools of their nefarious trade.

The four Koreans accused of the crime were sent to Seoul where, after a summary investigation, they were beheaded. Their corpses were left in the streets for several days, a gruesome example of the fate awaiting anyone else foolish enough to commit a similar act.

As for the Japanese, they were held at the Japanese consulate until they were transported to Nagasaki aboard the British steamship Nanzing. Their arrival was duly noted by the editor of the local English-language newspaper who speculated that, "Probably the Korean government will press for a heavy sentence to be passed upon the offending Japanese."

It isn't clear what punishment ― if any ― the Japanese counterfeiters received. I imagine those caught counterfeiting Japanese coinage would have been executed, but crimes committed in Korea against Koreans seem to have received lighter punishments.

Most of these early counterfeiting operations in Korea seem to have been small ― involving only a couple of American dollars' worth of Korean coins. The islands near Jemulpo seem to have been especially favored by counterfeiters.

An American newspaper correspondent and his Korean money in 1904 / Robert Neff Collection

In the summer of 1897, two men were discovered with $50 worth of spurious coins ― probably about 26,000 coins ― along with the minting apparatus. They were tried, found guilty and, relatively soon afterwards, hanged. It isn't clear how the police discovered their little money-making operation ― especially considering how small it was.

There is an old saying that there is no honor amongst thieves, and apparently the same holds true for counterfeiters.

In the spring of 1898, Lee Byong-gu and two associates, Lee Myong-gu (perhaps his brother) and Choi Haknai, "formed a company whose laudable object was to eke out their fortune by counterfeiting money." They set up their mint in the basement of their house near the northeast gate of Seoul. For several days, the police watched the building to ascertain who was involved. Once they were sure, they raided it and found tools, equipment and a large number of coins. Apparently, the police were tipped off by one of the men's cousins. He had somehow learned about their enterprise and asked them for a loan of some $200 (this situation sounds more like blackmail then a simple request for a loan) ― which they refused ― and, out of anger, he went to the police and reported them. I am sure he minimalized any role and knowledge he had of their operation. The three counterfeiters had their property seized and, most likely, lost their lives.

In the early 1900s, counterfeiting was no longer a small operation, especially with the introduction of new coinage.

The editor of the Korea Review noted:

"On the whole, the [Korean] nickel is an unfortunate coin, for it is cheap enough to invite counterfeiting even by people of small means and at the same time it is valuable enough to make it well worth counterfeiting."

Yun Tai-sung, a resident in Seoul, was fully aware of the nickel's value and ran a huge counterfeiting operation in his home. When the police broke down his door they discovered equipment and $30,000 worth of spurious coins and another $30,000 worth of nickel blanks. Yun managed to escape and the police were left only with his three servants. They, undoubtedly, paid for their service with their lives.

Four other counterfeiters were seized in Aeogae (now part of Seoul, but it used to be just outside the west gate) with $1,000 worth of fake nickels. It goes without saying what their fates were.

In the spring of 1902, the governor of Pyongyang, furious with the amount of funny-money in his city, declared that "anyone bringing counterfeit nickels through the gates of the city would be considered a counterfeiter and punished accordingly."

His method may have discouraged many from the act but it doesn't seem as effective as the measures taken in Seoul.

On April 30, 1902, notices were posted in the streets of Seoul announcing rewards of $1,000 for information leading to large-scale counterfeiters and lesser rewards ($200 to $500) for smaller operations. Within days even, the police were involved in collecting their rewards. One counterfeiter was nabbed and subsequently hanged, his machinery destroyed and the police officer rewarded $200.

A water-carrier found more than he expected when he was drawing water from a public well in central Seoul. When he pulled up the bucket from the well's depths, he discovered a counterfeiting machine hooked to the cord. Apparently someone lost their nerve and decided to toss the implements of their nefarious trade before they could be discovered by their neighbors. The water-carrier turned the machine over to the authorities and received a cool $40 ― in genuine nickels ― from the police.

However, not all counterfeit Korean nickels were manufactured by Koreans or even in Korea. That story, however, will have to wait for another time.

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