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'Let there be light' for Joseon Court

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The palace in the winter of 1883/84   Robert Neff Collection
The palace in the winter of 1883/84 Robert Neff Collection

By Robert Neff

In late November 1886, William McKay, a 23-year-old Scottish-American, his wife Anna and their infant son Willie arrived in Jemulpo to help "enlighten" Joseon ― at least the palace ― with electricity. McKay was brought to the peninsula as an "electric light teacher" and his primary responsibility was to set up the power plant purchased by the Korean government from the Edison Company.

McKay and his family made their way to Seoul and stayed with Horace N. Allen, an American missionary and physician, and his family until the Korean government could provide them with their own home. While waiting for the power plant and a second (unnamed) engineer to arrive, McKay examined the palace grounds and decided the best spot for the plant would be next to a lotus pond so that it could provide water for the boiler.

On Jan. 3, 1887, a resident in Jemulpo wrote:

"The Higo Maru brought an Electric Light plant here for the King's palace, in Seoul. It is said to be the best plant that has ever been sent from the U.S. Two first-class engineers have come with it. The plant has been supplied at a little more than the actual price, and the enterprising Edison Electric Co. have guaranteed to make a success of it, even if they lose money on it. It is understood that the light will be in working order in about three months' time, and it is calculated that the Corean Government can save money by using the Electric light instead of oil."

The "two first-class engineers" were undoubtedly McKay and his unnamed assistant but it is not clear how the power plant was transported from Jemulpo to Seoul. Heavy equipment and goods were often transported by boat up the Han River but considering it was winter and the Han River had a tendency to freeze ― making river travel impossible ― the power plant may have been transported overland.

Construction of the plant was begun immediately and progressed very quickly, in fact, much faster than anticipated, but not without some problems.

The audience hall in the winter of 1883/84   Robert Neff Collection
The audience hall in the winter of 1883/84 Robert Neff Collection

One of the Americans ― I am guessing it was McKay but am not sure ― despite his recent arrival, had managed to learn some basic commands in Korean. They say knowledge is power ― this power almost cost him his life.

While trying to set the plant's boiler on its foundation of masonry, the engineer (McKay?) climbed under it to get a better look. The boiler was supported by a number of ropes held by Korean coolies. The engineer, desiring them to pull on the ropes and hoist the boiler higher, called upon them to "come on," or pull on the ropes. Apparently he had been using Korean with them earlier and they misunderstood his English for a Korean word meaning stop ― the command they were expecting, and so they let go of the ropes. Fortunately for the engineer, he was able to avoid the falling boiler and learn a valuable lesson that a little knowledge is sometimes dangerous.

By February (possibly Jan. 26) most of the work had been completed and the palace, at least parts of it, was supplied with electricity. It was celebrated as a success, but some members of the Korean government viewed it as a bad omen, especially after all the carp in the lotus pond were discovered dead. Perhaps, as mentioned in last week's article, they believed the dragon was responsible.

The Korean monarch (or someone in his court) had a fascination with lights ― not only for lighting the palace up but also as decorations. One of the early purchases from New York by the Korean government was 14 glass vases to decorate the royal dining table. These vases, each costing $75, contained bouquets of artificial flowers mingled with flowers of colored glass, and a small incandescent four-candle-lamp which served as the center for each of the glass flowers.

Tragedy struck on March 8, 1887 when McKay was accidently shot by a young Korean soldier. Apparently, while setting up lights in the palace, the soldier accompanying McKay, intrigued by the American's revolver, asked to examine it. As he examined it, the soldier accidently shot McKay. The wounded man was rushed to Dr. Allen for treatment, but there was nothing to be done, and the following morning, at 6 a.m., McKay succumbed to his wounds. Prior to his death, he pleaded for the soldier to be spared any punishment as he was convinced it had been an accident. McKay was presumably buried in Jemulpo but his tombstone has long been lost and forgotten.

Several witnesses, including McKay's assistant, agreed it was an accident. However, the Korean government, perhaps afraid of offending the foreign powers, decided to make an example out of the soldier and had him arrested immediately.

The palace circa 1900s   Robert Neff Collection
The palace circa 1900s Robert Neff Collection

In prison, the soldier was beaten severely and then condemned to execution. Regardless of the circumstances, a death had to be answered by death or at least banishment.

The American representative to Korea and McKay's widow both urged the Korean government to show mercy. Perhaps it was Anna's plea that finally won the soldier's reprieve and he was soon released.

King Gojong was so impressed with the woman that he offered her and her son $500.00 in compensation and a house for life if they would agree to remain in Korea ― he also pledged to pay for Willie's future tuition.

In his report to the State Department, the American representative wrote:

"One reason why so much concern has been shown is undoubtedly on account of the idea [Koreans] have, in common with many other Asiatic nations, that all foreigners residing in their country are guests, and that any mishap befalling them is to the shame of the host."

Anna did not accept King Gojong's offer. She returned to the United States and within a few years was remarried. As for baby Willie, by 1892, he disappeared completely from the pages of history ― presumably a victim of one of the many childhood diseases of that era. Like his father, his gravestone has seemingly been lost.

My appreciation to Diane Nars for her invaluable assistance.


Robert Neff has authored and co-authored several books, including Letters from Joseon, Korea Through Western Eyes and Brief Encounters.





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