A rush to Jemulpo in 1891: Part 2
Ferries cross a river in the early 1900s. Robert Neff Collection
With the riverboat gone and their porters refusing to continue to Jemulpo, where their steamship was due to depart the next day, Bishop Daniel A. Goodsell and his wife Sarah faced a dire predicament. Just as things looked impossible, salvation emerged in an unexpected form — curiosity.
An inquisitive elderly gentleman, leaning on a long staff, hobbled toward the procession to get a closer look at the foreign visitors. Introduced as Mapo’s headman, he immediately went into action once the Americans’ predicament was explained.
Goodsell later wrote: “The old man bowed, sent a boy here and a man there; called a pony from a neighboring field; made the bargain; bustled about with amazing activity; apologized for Korean slowness; and, in a half hour, a new pony was loaded, the new bearers at the poles, and we were lifted out of the dreadful stenches and carried to the open river, whose pure breezes seemed like paradise.”
The party soon reached the Han River, which Goodsell noted could swell to an immense 3.2 kilometers in width during the rainy season. On this warm summer day, however, it had receded to a much narrower 300 meters. It was “deep, swift and strong.” Thus, it was, with a great deal of trepidation, that the bishop and his party boarded the three diminutive ferries to convey them across the river. These ferries were “nominally without charge,” though a small fare was commonly expected — if not outright demanded — from strangers, particularly foreigners.
A small Korean village in the early 1900s / Robert Neff Collection
Two unsteady, leaking, worm-eaten boats were tasked to transport the chairs and their bearers, while the last boat was reserved for the pony, his handler and a beggar boy. Although Goodsell failed to mention which boat he and his wife selected, I suspect they elected to forgo their chairs and ride in the comparative safety of the last boat. This decision was not without its own hazards: Korean ponies were notorious for their vile and cantankerous nature, not to mention their alarming propensity to kick and bite anything within reach.
However, trouble arose before they even boarded the ferries. Two of the chair-bearers suddenly began to quarrel which quickly escalated into a fight in “Korean fashion: They seized each other’s topknots and, calling each other the son of a pig and the grandson of a dog, pulled their best.”........
