King Ki-bi died and his son Ki-jun, the last of the dynasty reigned in his stead. For some years all was quiet, but at last the scepter was wrested from the hands of the short-lived Tsin dynasty by the founder of the illustrious Han, and across the border from Cho-sŭn all was turmoil and confusion. Fugitives from the three states of Yun, Che and Cho were seeking asylum anywhere, and thousands were hurrying across the Yalu and craving the protection of Ki-jun. The only protection he could give them from the victorious Han was remoteness from the latter’s base of operations; so he allowed them to settle along the valley of the Yalu and its southern tributaries. This was in the twentieth year of his reign, 200 B.C.
Unfortunately for Cho-sŭn, the Han emperor made No-gwan, one of his generals, governor of Yŭn. This gentleman had ideas of his own, and finding such good material for an army among the half-wild people of his province he decided to go on an empire hunt on his own account.
The story of his desperate fight and final defeat at the hands of the Han forces, of his flight northward to the wild tribe of Hyung-no, is interesting; but we must turn from it to follow the fortunes of one of his lieutenants, a native of the Yŭn, named Wi-man. Retreating eastward alone and in disguise, according to some writers, or according to others with an escort of 1,000 men, he eluded his pursuers and at last crossed the P’ă-su (the Yalu of today) and was received with open arms by his own kin who had already settled there. In the days of the Han dynasty the word P’ă-su meant the Yalu River, but in the days of the Tang dynasty it meant the Ta-dong. Hence much confusion has arisen.
Wi-man threw himself upon the protection of Ki-jun who, little knowing the nature of the man he was harboring, good-naturedly consented and accompanied his welcome with the substantial gift of a hundred li square of land in the north. Wi-man, on his part, engaged to act as border guard and give timely warning of the approach of an enemy. He was already on good terms with the people of the Chin-bŭn tribe, and now he began to cultivate their friendship more assiduously than ever. In a short time he found himself at the head of a considerable following composed partly of Yŭn refugees and partly of Chin-bŭn adventurers.
Being thus prepared and weighing all the chances, he concluded to stake his whole fortune on a single throw. Sending a swift messenger to the court of Ki-jun at P‘yŭng-yang, he informed that peace loving monarch that an innumerable army was advancing from China in four divisions and would soon be at the doors of Cho-sŭn, and that he, Wi-man, must hasten to the capital with all his force to act as body-guard of the King. The ruse was successful and before Ki-jun and his court had awakened to the situation Wi-man was on them. An attempt was made to stop his advance when quite too late, but it held the traitor in check long enough for Ki-jun and his immediate court to load their treasure on boats; and as the triumphal army of Wi-man entered the gates of P‘yŭng-yang the last representative of the dynasty of Ki-ja slipped quietly down the river, seeking for himself a more congenial home in the south. This occurred, so far as we can judge from conflicting documents, in the year 193 B.C.
This was an event of utmost importance in the history of the peninsula. It opened up to the world the southern portion of Korea, where there were stored up forces that were destined to dominate the whole peninsula and impress upon it a distinctive stamp. But before following Ki-jun southward we must turn back and watch the outcome of Wi-man’s treachery.
Wi-man … establishes his kingdom … extent … power soon waned … ambitious designs. … China aroused … invasion of Korea. … U-gu tries to make peace … siege of P‘yŭng-yang … it falls … the land redistributed … the four provinces … the two provinces.
Having secured possession of Ki-jun’s kingdom, Wi-man set to work to establish himself firmly on the throne. He had had some experience in dealing with the wild tribes and now he exerted himself to the utmost in the task of securing the allegiance of as many of them as possible. He was literally surrounded by them, and this policy of friendliness was an absolute necessity. He succeeded so well that ere long he had won over almost all the adjacent tribes whose chieftains frequented his court and were there treated with such liberality that more than once they found themselves accompanying embassies to the court of China.
It is said that when his kingdom was at its height it extended far into Liao-tung over all northern and eastern Korea and even across the Yellow Sea where it included Ch’ŭng-ju, China. Its southern boundary was the Han River.
So long as Wi-man lived he held the kingdom together with a strong hand, for he was possessed of that peculiar kind of power which enabled him to retain the respect and esteem of the surrounding tribes. He knew when to check them and when to loosen the reins. But he did not bequeath this power to his descendants. His grandson, U-gŭ, inherited all his ambition without any of his tact. He did not realise that it was the strong hand and quick wit of his grandfather that had held the kingdom together and he soon began to plan a still further independence from China. He collected about him all the refugees and all the malcontents, most of whom had much to gain and little to lose in any event. He then cut off all friendly intercourse with the Han court and also prevented the surrounding tribes from sending their little embassies across the border. The Emperor could not brook this insult, and sent an envoy, Sŭp-ha, to expostulate with the headstrong U-gŭ; but as the latter would not listen, the envoy went back across the Yalu and tried what he could do by sending one of the older chiefs to ask what the king meant by his conduct. U-gŭ was still stubborn and when the chief returned to Sŭp-ha empty-handed he was put to death. Sŭp-ha paid the penalty for this rash act, for not many days after he had been installed governor of Liao-tung the tribe he had injured fell upon him and killed him.
This was not done at the instigation of U-gŭ, but unfortunately it was all one to the Emperor. It was the “Eastern Barbarians” who, all alike, merited punishment. It was in 107 B.C. that the imperial edict went forth commanding all Chinese refugees in Korea to return at once, as U-gŭ was to be put down by the stern hand of war.
In the autumn of that year the two generals, Yang-bok and Sun-ch’i, invaded Korea at the head of a strong force; but U-gŭ was ready for them and in the first engagement scattered the invading army, the remnants of which took refuge among the mountains. It was ten days before they rallied enough to make even a good retreat. U-gŭ was frightened by his own good luck for he knew that this would still further anger the Emperor; so when an envoy came from China the king humbled himself, confessed his sins and sent his son to China as hostage together with a gift of 5,000 horses. Ten thousand troops accompanied him. As these troops were armed, the Chinese envoy feared there might be trouble after the Yalu had been crossed. He therefore asked the Prince to have them disarmed. The latter thought he detected treachery and so fled at night and did not stop until he reached his father’s palace in P‘yŭng-yang. The envoy paid for this piece of gaucherie with his head.
Meanwhile Generals Yang-bok and Sun-ch’i had been scouring Liao-tung and had collected a larger army than before. With this they crossed the Ya-lu and marched on P‘yŭng-yang. They met with no resistance, for U-gŭ had collected all his forces at the capital, hoping perhaps that the severity of the weather would tire out any force that might be sent against him. The siege continued two months during which time the two generals quarreled incessantly. When the Emperor sent Gen. Kong Son-su to see what was the matter, Gen. Sun-ch’i accused his colleague of treason and had him sent back to China, where he lost his head. The siege, continued by Gen. Sun-ch’i, dragged on till the following summer and it would have continued longer had not a traitor within the town assassinated the king and fled to the Chinese camp. Still the people refused to make terms until another traitor opened the gates to the enemy. Gen. Sun-ch’i’s first act was to compel Prince Chang, the heir apparent, to do obeisance. But the people had their revenge upon the traitor who opened the gate for they fell upon him and tore him to pieces before he could make good his escape to the Chinese camp.
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