Winter scenes of Seoul's past

Hwangwonjeong Pavilion and Geoncheonggung at Gyeongbok Palace in December 2012 Robert Neff Collection

By Robert Neff

In the late 19th century, Westerners often described Seoul during the winter in one of two ways: a dirty, crowded city choking under the haze of smoke from countless chimneys, or as a clean and quaint city with streets blanketed by snow and its inhabitants dressed in clean white clothing except during the holidays when they wore brightly colored festive outfits. I think, for the casual observer, the latter was a truer description ― at least in the mid-1880s.

In the winter of 1883-84, Percival Lowell, an American guest of the royal palace, described the city's beauty ― especially that of the surrounding mountains:

"On a clear day in winter ― and about half the days are clear ― the view from any of the broader city streets is most beautiful. The houses are so low and the mountains so high that in the main thoroughfares the peaks can be seen towering above the roofs on either hand, as you pass along the street. Even in the narrower alleys, they block the ends of the vistas in front and behind. They stand out bold and sharp against the blue, covered with the brilliantly white snow, while the north wind falls fresh and keen upon the city from over their tops."

The Han River in the winter of 1883-84 Robert Neff Collection

Lowell was not the only Western visitor to find beauty in Seoul's winter vistas. William Richard Carles, an Englishman, visited Korea in late 1883 and described his entrance into Seoul:

"Snow was threatening as we passed through the massive stone gateway of the city wall, and in the broad street inside a novel scene awaited us. The tall conical hats of the shopkeepers and better class of people were surmounted by yellow covers of oilpaper, which we had previously noticed folded up like a fan and thrust into the girdle of the dress. The villagers, cattle and pony drivers, who boasted no tall hats, were half hidden underneath huge inverted bowls of matting, within which was a light frame that rested on the head. The difficulty of seeing from underneath these coverings produced a curious expression as of men half awoken from their sleep. With a background of low stalls thatched with straw, and of enormous piles of brushwood, beneath which a bull's head could here and there be seen, the sight was sufficiently quaint."

The Han River in January 2021 Robert Neff Collection

Winters of the past definitely seem to have been far colder than they are at present. In 1911, Jacob Robert Moose, a missionary, wrote that "the mercury often falls to zero, and in extreme weather to twelve or fourteen below, Fahrenheit," or minus 25 degrees Celsius. Newspaper accounts, as well as letters and diary entries from Westerners in the late 19th and early 20th centuries, are peppered with accounts of people being found frozen in the streets or their shacks. Alcohol was likely a contributing factor in many of these deaths.

There was also the matter of the river. Moose wrote:

"Winter usually settles down by the middle of December, and from that time till the middle of February the rivers will be frozen up so that all boat traffic is completely stopped. It is a common thing to see ice twelve inches thick on the Han River."

When the Han River froze, it prevented Korean junks and the handful of small steamers from traveling from Jemulpo (modern Incheon) to Seoul and many of these sailors and their farming brethren used their downtime to go ice fishing.

Nothing stops a good ride, not even snow and darkness. Han River near Mangwon-dong in Seoul, January 2021. Robert Neff Collection

Lowell claimed that "with the exception of the fishermen, the Koreans were not at home upon the ice." His Korean companions only set foot on the ice "under protest." When Lowell started sliding around on the ice, his Korean peers regarded it as "a foolish foreign eccentricity." He was forced to give up his childish pursuit after "friends and attendants" and even "disinterested bystanders and lookers-on" compelled him to return to the safety of solid ground, even though Lowell described the ice as solid and safe.

He was not the only one to find it safe. Korean travelers and merchants did cross the river ― even with small carts ― on the ice. There was, of course, the occasional accident as evidenced by newspaper accounts in the 1890s and early 20th century.

Humans were not the only creatures to cross the frozen river. Wolves crossed the river (even when it wasn't frozen) and it does not challenge the imagination to assume that tigers and leopards also took advantage of the river's frozen state.

Ice fishing on the Han River in the early 1900s Robert Neff Collection

Falling through the ice, being ravaged by wolves or tigers or freezing to death in the streets were not the only dangers associated with winter. After one of his morning winter walks, Lowell wrote:

Candy sellers in the snow in the late 1890s or early 1900s Robert Neff Collection

"The weather was clear and cold, everything fairly sparkling as only the sunshine of a northern winter's day, with the snow in patches on the ground and the blue above, can sparkle. It was a laughing, merry sort of day. The boys in the streets, as we passed through, seemed to find it so, too. I had never seen them so lively before; for they are usually rather quiet, as we count boys. But they were in the thick of a most interesting game. It was called 'the game of war.' Bands of youthful warriors, armed with stout sticks were coursing the streets, and more particularly the corners of the narrower alleys ― for every boy knows how much more interest lurks in the double entente of the corner and the mysterious possibility of the alley ― and would appear, whirl, and disappear again with the suddenness of a flock of sparrows."

The rules of the game were fairly simple. The boys divided into two teams and they would beat each other with sticks and clubs "until one side had had enough for the time being, when they would take to their heels to rally again at the next corner."

A good catch on the Han River in the early 1900s Courtesy of Diane Nars Collection

According to Lowell, "Grown men enter into the sport with as much zest as children," but were prohibited from taking part in this particular game because of its location (within the city) which would greatly impede normal activities and "the greater decorum of city habits." So, only small boys were permitted to play while the adult males had to go outside the city gates to participate in the deadlier sport of "seokjeon."

While these provided great entertainment to the spectators and glory to the winners (pain or death to the losers), they were not the only street fights in Seoul. Sometimes the most entertaining battles were those fought over a debt ― the subject of tomorrow's article.

My appreciation to Diane Nars for allowing me to use an image from her collection.

At the Han River in the early 1900s, even the bitter cold of winter is no excuse for not doing laundry. Robert Neff Collection

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