The History of Korea (Vol.1&2). Homer B. Hulbert
she turned to her neighbors and began to exercise her arms upon them. Păk-je also attacked Sil-la fiercely and soon a triangular war was being waged in the peninsula which promised to be a war of extermination unless China should interfere. Of course each wished the Emperor to interfere in her behalf and each plied the throne of China with recriminations of the others and with justifications of herself until the Emperor was wholly at a loss to decide between them. Perhaps it was not his policy to put an end to the war but let it rage until the whole peninsula was exhausted, when it would become an easy prey to his arms. At any rate he gave encouragement to none of them but simply told them to stop fighting. Ko-gu-ryŭ diplomatically added to her supplications a request for Buddhist, Taoist and Shinto teachers.
The details of this series of hostilities between the three Korean states form a tangled skein. First one border fort was taken and then recovered, then the same was repeated at another point; and so it went all along the line, now one being victorious and now another. Large forces were not employed at any one time or place, but it was a skirmish fire all along the border, burning up brightly first at one spot and then at another. One remarkable statement in the records, to the effect that Ko-gu-ryŭ began the building of a wall straight across the peninsula from Eui-ju to the Japan Sea to keep out the people of the northern tribes, seems almost incredible. If true it is another testimony to the great power of Ko-gu-ryŭ. It is said the work was finished in sixteen years.
In 632, after a reign of fifty years, King Chim-p’yŭng died without male issue but his daughter Tong-man, a woman of strong personality, ascended the throne of Sil-la, being the first of her sex that ever sat on a Korean throne.
Many stories are told of her precocity. Once when she was a mere child her father had received from the Emperor a picture of the mok-tan flower together with some seeds of the same. She immediately remarked that the flowers would have no perfume. When asked why she thought so she replied “Because there is no butterfly on them in the picture.” While not a valid argument, it showed a power of observation very uncommon in a child. This proved to be true, for when the seeds sprouted and grew the blossoms had no fragrance. The Emperor conferred upon her the title of royalty, the same as upon a male sovereign.
The first few years of her reign were peaceful ones for Sil-la, and Păk-je, as usual when relieved of the stress of war, fell back into her profligate ways again. The king built gardens and miniature lakes, bringing water from a point some twenty li away to supply them. Here he spent his time in sport and debauchery while the country ruled itself.
In the fifth year of her reign Queen Tong-man, while walking in her palace grounds, passed a pond of water but suddenly stopped and exclaimed “There is war on our western border.” When asked her reasons for thinking so she pointed to the frogs in the pond and said “See how red their eyes are. It means that there is war on the border.” As if to bear out her statement, swift messengers came the next day announcing that Păk-je was again at work along the western border. So runs the story.
And so the fight went on merrily all along the line, while at the capitals of the three kingdoms things continued much as usual. Each of the countries sent Princes to China to be educated, and the diplomatic relations with China were as intimate as ever; but in 642 Păk-je made the great mistake of her life. After an unusually successful military campaign against Sil-la during which she seized forty of her frontier posts, she conceived the bright idea of cutting off Sil-la’s communication with China. The plan was to block the way of Sil-la envoys on their way to China. Thus she thought that China’s good will would be withdrawn from her rival, Sil-la. It was a brilliant plan but it had after effects which worked ruin for Păk-je. Such a momentous undertaking could not be kept from the ears of the Emperor nor could Sil-la’s envoys be thus debarred from going to the Emperor’s court. When the whole matter was therefore laid before the Chinese court the Emperor immediately condemned Păk-je in his own mind.
About this time a Chinese envoy named Chin Ta-t’ok arrived on the borders of Ko-gu-ryŭ. On his way to the capital he pretended to enjoy all the views along the way and he gave costly presents to the prefects and gained from them accurate information about every part of the route. By this means he spied out the land and carried a fund of important information back to the Emperor. He advised that Ko-gu-ryŭ be invaded both by land and sea, for she would not be hard to conquer.
It was in this year 642 that a Ko-gu-ryŭ official named Hap So-mun assassinated the king and set up the king’s nephew Chang as king. He himself became of course the court favorite. He was a man of powerful body and powerful mind. He was as “sharp as a falcon.” He claimed to have risen from the water by a miraculous birth. He was hated by the people because of his cruelty and fierceness. Having by specious promises so far mollifiedmollified the dislike of the officials as to have gained a position under the government he became worse than before and some of the officials had an understanding with the king that he must be put out of the way. This came to the ears of Hap So-mun and he gave a great feast, during the course of which he fell upon and killed all those who had advised against him. He then sent and killed the king in the palace, cut the body in two and threw it into a ditch. Then, as we have seen, he set up Chang as king. This Hap So-mun is said to have worn five swords on his person all the time. All bowed their heads when he appeared and when he rode in state he passed over the prostrate bodies of men.
When an envoy, soon after this, came from Sil-la he was thrown into prison as a spy and was told that he would be released as soon as Sil-la should restore to Ko-gu-ryŭ the two districts of Ma-hyŭn which had at one time belonged to Ko-gu-ryŭ. This envoy had a friend among the Ko-gu-ryŭ officials and to him he applied for help. That gentleman gave him advice in the form of an allegory. It was as follows.
The daughter of the Sea King being ill, the physicians said that she could not recover unless she should eat the liver of a rabbit. This being a terrestrial animal it was of course almost impossible to obtain, but finally a tortoise volunteered toto secure a rabbit and bring it to the king. Emerging from the sea on the coast of Sil-la the tortoise entered a field and found a rabbit sleeping under a covert. Awakening the animal he began to tell of an island off the shore where there were neither hawks nor hunters—a rabbit’s paradise, and volunteered to take the rabbit across to it upon his back. When well out at sea the tortoise bade the rabbit prepare for death, for his liver was needed by the Sea King. After a moment’s rapid thought the rabbit exclaimed “You might have had it without all this ado, for when the Creator made rabbits he made them with detachable livers so that when they became too warm they could take them out and wash them in cool water and then put them back. When you found me I had just washed mine and laid it on a rock to dry. You can have it if you wish, for I have no special use for it.” The tortoise in great chagrin turned about and paddled him back to the shore. Leaping to the land the rabbit cried “Good day, my friend, my liver is safe inside of me.”
The imprisoned envoy pondered over this conundrum and its application and finally solved it. Sending to the king he said “You cannot get back the two districts by keeping me here. If you will let me go and will provide me with an escort I will induce the Sil-la government to restore the territory to you.”to you.” The king complied, but when the envoy had once gotten across the border he sent back word that the restoration of territory was not in his line of business and he must decline to discuss the question at the court of Sil-la.
In 643 the powerful and much dreaded Hap So-mun sent to China asking the Emperor to send a teacher of the Shinto religion; for he said that the three religions, Buddhism, Taoism and Shintoism were like the three legs of a kettle, all necessary. The Emperor complied and sent a teacher, Suk-da, with eight others and with books to be used in the study of the new cult.
The prowess of this Hap So-mun was well known at the Chinese court and it kept the Emperor from attempting any offensive operations. He said it would not do to drain China of her soldiers at such a critical time, but that the Mal-gal tribes must first be alienated from their fealty to Ko-gu-ryŭ and be induced to attack her northern border. Others advised that Hap So-mun be allowed free rein so that all suspicion of aggression on the part of China should be removed and Ko-gu-ryŭ would become careless of her defenses. This would in time bring a good opportunity to strike the decisive blow. It was in pursuance of this policy that the Shinto teachers were sent and that Hap So-mun’s creature, Chang, was given