Horace Allen's arrival in Joseon

A Westerner and his Korean ponies in the late 19th century / Robert Neff Collection

By Robert Neff

Horace N. Allen, an American missionary, arrived in Jemulpo on Sept. 20, 1884, at age 26, aboard the English steamship Nanzing. He had come to Korea ― leaving his wife and infant son in Shanghai ― in search of opportunity and adventure as a doctor.

Allen's initial descriptions of Korea were far from flattering and it would be easy to blame this negativity on his journey from Shanghai to Korea, which had been a rough one. While in the Korea Strait, the Nanzing encountered a powerful typhoon causing him to become violently seasick ― his ship survived relatively undamaged but other ships were not so lucky.

In his diary, he wrote:

"Arrived in [Jemulpo]. This is a motley place of slab shanties, mud huts, sheds and bush earth. The Japanese here also are in the ascendancy and (have) the choicest place. They also have a fine Consulate. Mr. C.H. Cooper has just built a nice little white building to be used as the American Consulate. The Chinese are wisely building a fine house of brick which they burned themselves on the ground. The British bought an old Saloon, the Royal Oak in Nagasaki and brought it over to be erected as a consulate. It came in the Nanzing with us and cost $400.00 freight. As there is no means of landing we go ashore in small boats and make our way from them to the shore on the rocks."

The description of the Royal Oak is interesting. Except for Allen's account, there is no other source suggesting a saloon was dismantled and brought to Korea. Cooper's house was pre-manufactured in Japan and brought over.

A small ferry boat in the late 19th century / Robert Neff Collection

Allen meticulously noted the names of the handful of Westerners in the port except those of the women, who are known through other sources to include Vladimir S. Bekofsky's Russian wife and Woo Li-tang's Spanish wife (a young vibrant ballet dancer named Amalia C. Amador). Along with a lot of other things, Allen was not fond of mixed marriages.

Allen spent Sunday (Sept. 21) aboard the ship and left for Seoul early on Monday morning accompanied by Chu, his Chinese teacher. In his diary he noted that they left Jemulpo at 8 a.m. on ponies and that his pony was "especially vicious" and nearly killed him.

It wasn't until nearly two decades later that he explained just how violent his pony was:

"As I approached the horse he attacked me viciously, first with his heels and then with his forefeet. The grooms tried to restrain him, and frantically motioned to me to keep away. They then covered his head with one of their long robes, and I took a running jump and landed in the saddle. I had brought with me a foreign saddle, otherwise I might have been compelled to ride on a pack frame and would probably have been thrown, for the beast plunged and tried to buck, but his education had fortunately been neglected, and the nearest he could approach to this accomplishment was to run hard for a while and then come to a sudden stop with his forefeet planted rigidly. Once he jumped upon another horse and knocked off the rider, but I could not stop to apologize…"

The road just outside of Seoul in the winter of 1883/84 / Robert Neff Collection

At a small inn halfway to Seoul, he dismounted and talked with a Western gold prospector who claimed Korea was filled with gold. After eating lunch it was time to remount ― something Allen was not looking forward to. The horse was once again blindfolded and Allen remounted with a running jump:

"I remained on his back, even while being ferried in a small boat over the river. Had he capsized the boat or jumped overboard, as I have expected him to do, I think I should have clung to him, his back was a vantage post not to be lightly relinquished."

They arrived in Seoul just before the city gates were closed. For the next two weeks, he stayed at a "new [Korean] hotel, the house that was fitted up to receive the men of the U.S. Flagship Trenton, that brought home the [Korean] Embassy." The hotel was not ready for customers and Allen was forced to fend for himself. That night, having no provisions, he "gladly accepted a bottle of beer and some hard biscuit" from an Englishman who was staying there the night before heading into the interior.

A shop in Seoul in the winter of 1883/84 / Robert Neff Collection

Over the next couple of weeks, Allen secured his position as the physician for Korean Customs and the American legation. He also purchased a house and arranged for his goods to be brought to Seoul (this required him to ride a pony to Jemulpo and back in the rain). He also met Walter Townsend, an American businessman, who would become one of his closest friends ― despite the fact he had a Japanese mistress.

Allen was now ready to retrieve his wife and son, so, knowing his steamship was due to depart Jemulpo for Shanghai on Oct. 11, he rode to the port a day or two early. With time on his hands, he turned his attention to his neglected diary and instead of describing the port and its events, he bemoaned the worthlessness of his Chinese teacher ― the same person who was taking care of his goods and preparing his house while he was away in Shanghai.

A young man and his pony in the late 19th century / Courtesy of Diane Nars Collection

In his diary he bitterly wrote:

"This past month has given me a new experience. Have had to sleep on a board with my shoes for a pillow, and no clothes but a big shawl to keep off the cold. The nights are very cold. I pay $1.50 a day at my hotel but yet nothing to eat unless I furnish it and no heat."

"I am glad to be off for Shanghai today," he declared, perhaps forgetting that the only reason he was going to Shanghai was to accompany his family back to Korea. True to his nature, he recorded the names of his fellow passengers ― describing one Nellie Webster as a prostitute bound for Shanghai (how he knew her profession is unknown) ― and added, "The morals of the men at here are shocking. All have mistresses nearly." Ironically, many of these men would become his friends in the future and would support him ― perhaps unaware of his true feelings.

His initial negativity might be attributed to the typhoon, seasickness and the lack of accommodations but I think that would be too generous. I am convinced he was just a young curmudgeon who found fault with everything and everyone but himself and his immediate family.

He returned to Korea with his family on Oct. 26. He and his wife remained in the country for the better part of two decades. His opinions of Korea, his friends and his peers shifted constantly depending on his mood and the benefits that could be reaped, but one thing never wavered ― he was always an interesting character.

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