Homer B. Hulbert - The History of Korea

All this time fighting was almost continuous along the Ko-gu-ryŭ-Păk-je border. The latter stood on the defensive and found it necessary in 386 to build a line of breastworks along the border, extending from Ch’ŭng-mok-yŭng northward to P’al-gon-sung and thence westward to the sea. An amnesty was brought about through a happy accident. A groom who had accidentally broken the leg of a Păk-je prince’s horse had fled to Ko-gu-ryŭ to escape punishment. Returning now to Păk-je, he purchased pardon by informing the king that if, in battle, the Păk-je forces should direct their whole force against that part of the enemy’s line where they should see a red flag flying they would surely be successful. This turned out to be true and Păk-je was once more successful, but followed up her success only to the extent of securing a definite cessation of hostilities and the erection of a boundary stone at Su-gok-sŭng to witness forever against him who should dispute the point. But when King Ch’im-yu of Ko-gu-ryŭ died in 392 and his son Tam-dok came into power all previous obligations were swept away and he proceeded to reopen the wound. He attacked Păk-je fiercely and took ten of her towns. Then he turned northward and chastised the Kŭ-ran tribe. When this was done he came back to the charge again and seized Kwang-nu Fortress. This was an almost inaccessible position on a high rock surrounded by the sea, but the hardy soldiers of Ko-gu-ryŭ after twenty days of siege found seven paths by which the wall could be reached, and they finally took the place by a simultaneous assault at these various points. When the court of Păk-je heard of this well-nigh impossible feat, all hope of victory in the field was taken away, and they could only bar the gates of the capital and await the turn of events. This king, Tam-dok, was as enthusiastically Buddhistic as his father. He made a decree that all the people of Ko-gu-ryŭ should adopt the Buddhistic faith and a few years later built nine more monasteries in P’yŭng-yang.

A year later King A-sin of Păk-je sent his son, Chön-ji, to Japan as an envoy. It is likely, but not certain, that it was a last resource of Păk-je to secure help against Ko-gu-ryŭ. This is the more likely from the fact that he went not only as an envoy but also as a hostage, or a guarantee of good faith. If this was the hope of Păk-je it failed, for no Japanese army was forthcoming. As another means of self-preservation King A-sin formed a great school of archery, but the people did not like it; for exercise in it was compulsory, and many of the people ran away.

In 399 Ko-gu-ryŭ sent an envoy to the Yŭn capital to pay her respects, but the king of that country charged Ko-gu-ryŭ with ambitious designs and sent an army of 30,000 men to seize the fortresses of Sin-sŭng and Nam-so, thus delimiting the frontier of Ko-gu-ryŭ to the extent of 700 li . They carried back with them 5,000 “houses,” which means approximately 25,000 people, as captives. It is difficult to believe this enumeration unless we conclude that it means that the people living within the limit of the 700 li were taken to be citizens of Yŭn.

The fifth century of our era dawned upon a troubled Korea. The tension between the three rival powers was severe, and every nerve was strained in the struggle for preeminence. In 402 Nă-mul, the king of Sil-la, died and Sil-sŭng came to the throne. He sent out feelers in two directions, one toward Ko-gu-ryŭ in the shape of a hostage, called by euphemism an envoy, and another of the same sort to Japan; which would indicate that Sil-la was still suffering from the depredations of the Japanese corsairs. The envoy to Ko-gu-ryŭ was the king’s brother, Pok-ho, and the one to Japan was also his brother, Mi-sa-heun. We remember that Păk-je already had an envoy in Japan in the person of the king’s eldest son Chön-ji. Now in 405 the king of Păk-je died. Chön-ji was the rightful heir but as he was in Japan the second son should have assumed the reins of government. As a fact the third son Chŭng-nye killed his brother and seized the scepter. Hearing of his father’s death, Chön-ji returned from Japan with an escort of a hundred Japanese, but learning of his brother’s murder he feared treachery against himself and so landed on an island off the coast where he remained until the people, with a fine sense of justice, drove Ch’ăm-nyefrom the throne and welcomed back the rightful heir.

Meanwhile interesting events were transpiring in Sil-la. In 403 Sil-sung, King of that land, fearing lest harm overtake his two brothers whom he had sent the year before to Ko-gu-ryŭ and Japan, was seeking for some means of getting them back. This might not be an easy thing to do, for to ask their return so soon would perhaps arouse the suspicion of these neighbors, and precipitate a war. Ko-gu-ryŭ had often taken up arms for a less affront than this. An official, Pak Che-san, volunteered to undertake this delicate mission even though it cost him his life. He went first to Ko-gu-ryŭ and there proved so skillful a diplomatthat he soon brought Prince Pok-ho back to Sil-la. The mission to Japan was a different matter, but he was equal to the occasion. Before starting out he said to the king: “I will bring the Prince back though it cost my life; only, before I go, I must ask you to imprison my family ; otherwise I cannot succeed.” The king acceded to this strange request and Pak Che-san, starting immediately as if in flight, without even changing his garments, fled until he came to the Yul Harbor. Even his wife he repulsed, exclaiming “I have determined to die.” He apparently feared that the sight of her might shake his loyal purpose. He arrived in Japan as a political fugitive, but the king suspected him until news came that his family had been imprisoned. This seemed to prove his statement and he was received graciously. He pretended that he wished to lead a Japanese force against Sil-la. Mi-sa-heun, the Prince whom he had come to rescue, was in the secret and heartily seconded the plan. The king made them joint leaders of an expedition. The fleet arrived at a certain island and there Pak succeeded in spiriting Mi-sa-heun away by night in a little boat while he himself remained behind, to delay the inevitable pursuit. Mi-sa-heun begged him with tears to accompany him but he refused to jeopardise Mi-sa-heun’s chances of escape by so doing. In the morning he pretended to sleep very late and no one suspected the flight of the Prince until late in the day when concealment was no longer possible. When the Japanese found that they had been duped they were in a terrible rage. They bound Pak and went in pursuit of the run-away. But a heavy fog settled upon the sea and frustrated their plan. Then they torturedtheir remaining victim and to their inquiries he replied that he was a loyal subject of Kye-rim (the name of Sil-la at that time) and that he would rather be a Kye-rim pig than a subject of Japan; that he would rather be whipped like a school-boy in Kye-rim than receive office in Japan. By these taunts he escaped a lingering death bytorture. They burned him alive there on the island of Mok-do. When the king of Sil-la heard of his brave end he mourned for him and heaped upon him posthumous honors, and Mi-sa-heun married his preserver’s daughter. The wife of the devoted Pak ascended the pass of Ap-sul-yŭng whence she could obtain a distant view of the islands of Japan. There she gave herself up to grief until death put an end to her misery.

In 413 a new king came to the throne of Ko-gu-ryŭ. called Kö-ryŭn. As China and Ko-gu-ryŭ had been kept apart by the intervening Yun, and had acquired some power of sympathy through mutual fear of that power, we are not surprised that the new king of Ko-gu-ryŭ condescended to receive investiture from the Emperor, northat the latter condescended in turn to grant it. It was formally done, and the act of Ko-gu-ryŭ proclaimed her vassalage to China. From that time on excepting when war existed between them, the kings of Ko-gu-ryŭ were invested by the Emperor with the insignia of royalty. Two years later the Emperor conferred the same honor upon the king of Păk-je. It was always China’s policy to keep the kingdoms at peace with each other so long as they all wore the yoke of vassalage; but so soon as one or the other cast it off it was her policy to keep them at war.