Corea or Cho-sen: The Land of the Morning Calm — Reading Companion

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In Category - Geography

Authors: Landor, Arnold Henry Savage, 1865-1924 Digital Source: Project Gutenberg Gutenberg Release Year: 2004 First Publication Year: Not confirmed

Key Word: Korea -- Description and travel Target Reader: Readers of public-domain and historical texts

Book Edition: Project Gutenberg digital edition Book Language: en

Edition facts

Words 85,275

Reading time 371 min

Text sections 12

Corea or Cho-sen: The Land of the Morning Calm — Reading Companion can be approached with a clearer sense of reading commitment from its source measurements: 85,275 words, 6 hr 11 min estimated reading time, and 12 detected text sections.

The text analysis averages about 30.0 words per sentence, while the detected sections provide another way to judge how the source is divided.

Project Gutenberg metadata also associates the work with “Korea -- Description and travel,” connecting these edition facts with the source record’s subject description.

Source: Project Gutenberg record #13128

A late-19th-century travelogue by A. Henry Savage-Landor, blending firsthand observations of Korean customs, dress, and social hierarchy with the author's own sketches, revealing a Western perspective on the 'Land of the Morning Calm.'

Editorial Edition Score 4.9/5

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Description quality20 pts
Title & short description10 pts
Source metadata20 pts
Text length15 pts
Chapters / structure15 pts
EPUB file integrity20 pts

Total of 100 points, scaled to a 2.5-5.0 range. Editions with an empty description or a missing EPUB file are not scored.

Edition quality

File: pg13128

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There were a few Japanese passengers on board, but only one European, or rather American, besides myself, and a most pleasant companion he turned out to be. He was Mr. Clarence R. Greathouse, formerly Consul-General for the United States at Yokohama--at which place I first had the pleasure of meeting him--who was now on his way to Corea, where he had been requested by the Corean Government to accept the high and responsible position of Vice-Minister of Home Affairs, as well as of legal adviser to the King in international affairs.

Curiously enough, he had not been aware that I was to travel on the same ship, and I also never dreamt that I would have had the good fortune of being in such good and agreeable company during a voyage which otherwise would have been extremely dull. Accordingly, when we met again thus accidentally on the deck of the _Higo_, the event was as much to our mutual satisfaction as it was unexpected.

The sea was somewhat choppy, but notwithstanding this, when the steward appeared on the companion-way, beaming all over, in his best silk gown and jacket, and rang the dinner-bell with all his might, we gaily responded to his call and proceeded below.

Heavens! it was a Christmas dinner and no mistake! The tables and walls had been decorated with little paper flags and flowers made of the brightest colours that human fancy could devise, and dishes of almonds and raisins filled the centre of the table. There were little flags stuck in those dishes, and, indeed, everywhere. A big cake in the middle had prudently been tied to the table with a string, as the rolling motion of the ship was rather against its chances of keeping steady in the place that had been assigned to it, and the other usual precautions had been taken to keep the plates and glasses in their proper positions.

Our dinner-party consisted of about eight. At one moment we would be up, with our feet on a level with our opposite companion's head; the next we would be down, with the soles of their boots higher than our skulls.

It is always a pretty sight to see a table decorated, but when it is not only decorated but animated as well, it is evidently prettier still. When you see all the plates and salt-cellars moving slowly away from you, and as slowly returning to you; when you have to chase your fork and your knife before you can use them, the amusement is infinitely greater.

"_O gomen kudasai_"--"I beg your pardon"--said a Japanese gentleman in rather a hurried manner, and more hurriedly still made his exit into his cabin. Two or three others of his countrymen followed suit during the progress of the dinner, and as number after number of the _menu_ was gone through, so that we who remained had a capital time. Not many minutes also elapsed without our having a regular fusillade of bottles of champagne of some unknown brand, and "healths" were drunk of distant friends and relatives.

Mr. Greathouse, who, like many of his countrymen, has a wonderful gift for telling humorous stories, of which he had an unlimited supply, kept us in fits all evening, and in fact the greater part of the night, so that when we passed the islands of Goto and Tsushima we were still awake and in course of being entertained by his Yankee yarns.

The next day we reached the Corean port of Fusan. I well remember how much I was struck when we entered the pretty harbour and approached the spot where we cast anchor, by the sight of hundreds of white spots moving slowly along the coast and on a road winding up a hill. As we drew nearer, the white spots became larger and assumed more and more the form of human beings. There was something so ghostly about that scene that it is still vividly impressed upon my mind.

There is at Fusan not only a Japanese settlement, but also a Chinese one. About two and a half miles distant round the bay, the native walled town and fort can be plainly seen, while in the distance one may distinguish the city and castle of Tong-nai, in which the Governor resides. If I remember correctly, the number of Europeans at this port is only three or four, these being mainly in the employ of the Chinese Customs service.

We had hardly come to a standstill when a curious-looking being, who had come to meet the steamer in a boat, climbed up the rope-ladder which had been let down on the starboard side and came on board. He was a European.

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Arnold Henry Savage-Landor’s Corea or Cho-sen: The Land of the Morning Calm (1895) is a travel narrative that combines ethnographic description with personal anecdote. The author, who spent several months in Korea, presents himself as a diligent observer, recording “manners and customs of the people as accurately as possible from the impressions which my visit to their country left upon me.” The book is illustrated with his own sketches, which he admits “want much in artistic merit” but hopes are “characteristic.” Landor’s preface sets a straightforward tone, disclaiming literary ambition in favor of a “simple and straightforward manner.”

Observations on Marriage and Social Customs

The excerpts reveal Landor’s detailed interest in Korean marriage practices, which he describes as a transaction managed by fathers or middlemen, often without the bride and groom meeting beforehand. He recounts a scenario where a father substitutes a disabled daughter for a healthy one, leaving the bridegroom to accept the situation or seek concubines—a practice Landor notes is “a national institution” tolerated by the government. The author’s tone oscillates between ethnographic reportage and wry commentary, as when he compares a Corean wedding to “two lotteries.” He also notes that legal wives, though “practically inferior beings and slaves,” retain legal precedence over concubines, and that strong-willed women may resist, risking public punishment with a paddle. These passages illustrate Landor’s reliance on informants and his own interpretations, filtered through a Victorian lens.

The Author’s Position and Sources

Landor acknowledges his debt to several foreign advisers in Seoul, including Mr. C.R. Greathouse, Vice-Minister of Home Affairs, and General Le Gendre, who facilitated access to upper-class Koreans. He also thanks Mr. Seradin Sabatin and Mr. Krien for hospitality. This network of Western expatriates shaped his perspective, as he relied on their introductions and interpretations. The preface explicitly states that his “personal opinions expressed are absolutely infallible” only in a qualified sense, yet the text often presents observations as definitive. Readers should note that Landor’s access was mediated by colonial and diplomatic circles, and his descriptions of Korean life—especially regarding gender roles and marriage—reflect both his informants’ views and his own biases.

Structure and Visual Documentation

The book’s table of contents shows a systematic approach: chapters progress from arrival at Fusan and Chemulpo to detailed accounts of Korean faces, hats, clothes, women, and children. Landor’s own drawings, mentioned in the preface, are intended to supplement the text. The excerpts include no illustrations, but the author’s emphasis on visual recording—using “both pen and brush”—suggests a desire to document material culture. The narrative voice is personal and anecdotal, often shifting from description to commentary. For instance, the wedding account moves from reported facts to a hypothetical scenario and then to a general observation about concubinage. This blend of reportage and opinion characterizes the work as a subjective travelogue rather than a systematic ethnography.

Landor’s account offers a late-19th-century Western traveler’s view of Korea, rich in specific details about dress, social hierarchy, and domestic life, but filtered through his own cultural assumptions and reliance on foreign intermediaries. Readers interested in the history of cross-cultural representation will find this a valuable primary source, provided they approach its claims with critical awareness of the author’s position and the limitations of his evidence.

I found myself returning to Savage-Landor’s sketches of Korean dress and quiet hierarchies, and somehow it reminded me of another traveller’s notebook—the same unhurried way of noticing small things, the same gentle distance in the gaze. There is a softness in his brushwork, a pause. That feeling echoed when I later picked up Byeways in Palestine — A Closer Reading, as if both writers had learned to wait for a landscape to speak.