# The passing of Korea/Chapter 16

CHAPTER XVI
THE CURRENCY
In the days of Silla, 57 B. c.-o,i8 A. D., there was a considerable mixture of Chinese, the descendants of people who had fled from China at the time the Great Wall was built. These people doubtless taught the southern Koreans the value of a coinage. The earliest Silla coins are said to have been octagonal in shape with a hole in the centre. Another was the " Star Money," which bore the impress of two stars on one side and the legend " Heaven-sanctioned Eastern Treasure " on the other. The " Boy-child " coin was in the shape of the Siamese twins, and it bore the inscription " From Childhood to Manhood," referring to the fact that it is necessary at all stages of life. There was also the " Dragon Coin," the " Tortoise Coin " and the " Seven Star Money." The latter has a representation of the constellation of the Great Bear, and the flattering inscription " As faithful as the Stars." In Koryu days again, 918​1392, there was an issue of "linen money," which went under the name "Dirty Linen " ; not a nice name for such a nice thing as money. It was in the latter days of that dynasty that a regular issue of "cash" was made, similar to the cash used to-day. A silver coin in the shape of a bottle was also put out, but it was soon debased by admixture of copper, zinc and other baser metals, and so fell into disrepute. During the long years of Mongol supremacy the currency of that empire circulated freely in Korea, but all this came to an end about the middle of the fourteenth century.
After the founding of the present dynasty in 1392 the old silver, copper and linen money was continued in circulation, but after a time the government issued the famous yupjun, or " Leaf Money," which has held its own in the country districts until the present day with an obstinacy that is worthy of a better cause. During the past fifty years all sorts of tricks have been played with Korean coinage, and the government has realised heavy sums by minting, but of course no government can make money by coining it. The intrinsic value and the cost of making should equal the face value; but they cared nothing for this, and time and again new issues were forced on the people, only to fall to twenty per cent of their face value. The provinces would have none of this, but it circulated in and near Seoul. A rather pretty silver coin was issued in the eighties. It had a blue enamel centre. It was all bought up and hoarded within two years. The same happened to another silver coinage of a later date. At last the government unfortunately took up the nickel five-cent piece. The trouble with this coin was that it was of low enough denomination to be useful as circulating medium, but at the same time of enough value to be worth while counterfeiting. The cash had been so infinitesimal in value, and the plant necessarily so large for making it, that no one could afford to counterfeit it. But as soon as the nickel took the field an army of counterfeiters sprang up. The Japanese supplied the necessary machinery and smuggled it into ​the country, and at the same time hundreds of thousands of dollars worth of the stuff was turned out in Japan and brought over to Korea. This was a great injury to Koreans and also to legitimate Japanese trade, for the nickels fell and fell, until at one time they were at a discount of one hundred and fifty per cent. Both the Korean and Japanese governments made strenuous efforts to put a stop to this demoralisation, but so long as the Korean government continued to put out coins with a face value of five cents, and an intrinsic value of only one and a half cents, they found it impossible to compete with the counterfeiters, and the two went along side by side until a dozen or so of the latter were executed, and then it became too serious a matter, and the counterfeiters suspended operations.
Only the oldest foreign residents of Seoul will remember the great mat sheds which were erected from time to time and in which the old-time cash was minted. The smelting furnaces were mere holes in the ground, and the naked operatives stood astride of the glowing orifices and reached down with long tongues and seized the edges of the crucibles that held the molten metal. At night, when there was no other light but that which escaped from the furnace mouths and lit the rough interior of the shed with a livid, greenish glow, it was a picture straight from Dante's Inferno. The metal was poured into moulds which contained some fifty impressions of the pattern, and when the casting came out it looked like rough lace, the coins all being connected by narrow bars of metal. These were broken up, and the coins were strung on square metal rods that just fitted the hole in the coin. The ends of this rod were then put in a rude vice, and men with enormous coarse files ground down the edges of a thousand or more of the coins at a time. It was exceedingly rough work, and it was done just as cheaply as it could be done and still pass the very superficial examination that it would be subjected to. After having their edges filed, the coins were dumped into a shallow trough set in the ground, and sand and water were added. Two men sat down ​on the ground at opposite ends of this trough and pushed the coins back and forth with their bare feet. This was the final polish. The only thing left to do was to string the wretched things on rough straw rope or string, making a knot between every hundred pieces. When finished, the strings looked not unlike festoons of link sausages, though perhaps a trifle less digestible. In four-fifths of the country this is still the only currency that is accepted. One wonders how any large transactions can be carried on with such extremely awkward money. A horse-load of it would not come to more than fifteen dollars in gold. I have estimated roughly that the mere transfer of money costs on an average one-tenth of one per cent of every monetary transaction.
There is no such thing as a genuine bank in Korea, and yet the people have certain expedients by which they avoid in part the transportation of actual cash from one part of the land to another. There are certain large firms or guilds in Seoul whose notes of hand are accepted quite generally, and a certain crude method of exchange has been common. A merchant in the country may take the money which the prefect desires to transmit to the government treasury and buy merchandise with it, bring it up to Seoul and out of the proceeds pay over to the treasury the amount originally received. At certain seasons of the year it is necessary to send large sums of money to the country to pay for the barley, rice and a thousand other things that are required by the people of the metropolis. The merchants who have this in hand will therefore . pay over to the treasury a certain amount of cash and receive an order on some country prefect who is waiting for a chance to send up the annual taxes to the capital. The order is honoured by him, and so both parties gain by the transaction. The taxes that the people have paid to their prefect come back to them in large measure by the sale of their produce. This custom is of comparatively recent origin, for in former times and for centuries the taxes were all payable in rice or other grain. ​From time immemorial barter has been the principal method of trade, and to a very large extent the same may be said to-day. In many parts of Korea money is a sort of luxury that, while pleasant to have, is by no means essential to comfort. In the capital, the open ports and some of the more important inland towns everything is secured by purchase, but this includes only a small fraction of the whole population. In the country districts, for the most part, commodities are secured at periodical " markets," called chang by the Koreans. As you travel through the country and come to populous villages, you wonder where people get their various wares. Do they make them all themselves? There are very few country shops, and even these are of the most trivial kind. It is when you happen to strike a town on market day that the riddle is solved. For five days the place seems almost deserted, but on the sixth it is simply swarming with humanity. Every farmer and artisan for miles around has foregathered at this point to exchange his wares for those of someone else. All day long it is one scramble to see who can get his business done first, so that an early start can be made for home, or so that there may be leisure to do a little gambling or gossiping. The wine shops are running at full blast, for almost every important bargain is consummated over steaming bowls of rice wine. Every tongue is loosed, and to the uninitiated stranger who approaches one of these commercial orgies for the first time, and when it is at its height, it seems sure that a riot is going on or that a free fight is in hilarious progress. It is like five hundred exciting auction sales going on all at once, or like a busy day on 'change. Of course much money changes hands on these occasions, but comparatively little of it leaves the town. Every man has exchanged his wares for those of another, and everyone wends his way home, happy in the belief that he has made a good bargain. He may have cause to change his mind when the good lady of his house finds what he has bought.
Koreans learn but very slowly to change the style of their ​medium of exchange. In the capital anything "goes," but with the people at large the utmost conservatism is the rule. Even to this day the hundreds of Koreans employed at the American gold-mines in Unsan district refuse to touch Japanese paper money, and the company is obliged to send to various ports of the Far East to secure silver Japanese dollars, which have been withdrawn from circulation in Japan itself and are at a considerable discount everywhere. The Korean likes these because the value is intrinsic and does not depend upon any promise, no matter how solvent the government may be that backs the bills. He has had too much to do with governments to accept any such flimsy money as that! An amusing story is told of the unsophisticated Korean of the early eighties. In 1882, when the Japanese legation was burned and all its inmates were killed or else found safety in Chemulpo, one of the fugitives dropped in the street a hand-bag filled with Japanese bills. A Korean picked it up and examined the stuff, but could not imagine why the Japanese should want to carry away those scraps of tough paper. He took them home and papered his wall with them. Some time after this a friend, who had had some dealings with the Japanese at Fusan and knew what was what, happened to call, and he nearly fell in a fit when he saw what was on the wall, but he recovered, and managed to hold his tongue until he had effected the purchase of that house for three hundred dollars. He then tore from the walls upwards of six thousand yen. An even more amusing case was that of the merchant who was on his way up from Fusan with a large amount of paper yen sewed into the lining of his coat. Out jumped a highwayman on him in a lonely spot and demanded his money. He blandly replied that he had none. The robber was disgusted and exclaimed, "Well, then, give me that coat and you take this one." The poor fellow could do no less than comply. A little while after this the same robber held up a gentleman on the same road, and, finding him likewise impecunious, made another exchange of coats, as the gentleman was dressed in silk. The ​latter, on his arrival at home, tore off the coat and ordered the women of the house to tear it up for mop-rags, as he would never wear a coat that had been on a robber's back. In about half an hour, as he was seated with his long pipe in his mouth and his favourite book before him on the floor, he heard a most unaccountable disturbance in the women's quarters, and in they rushed upon him screaming that the coat was bewitched with a million imps. The little fat god of wealth that is seated on each of the Japanese bank notes had been too much for their nerves. Fortunately the gentleman had seen Japanese money, and, as he gently disengaged the crisp notes, he murmured to himself the sanctimonious aphorism, " Virtue is its own reward."