A view of Jemulpo in the late 19th or early 20th century / Robert Neff Collection

When Sir Harry Parkes visited Jemulpo (modern-day Incheon) in the spring of 1883, he had almost nothing positive to say. The port, he observed, was nothing more than a collection of “wretchedly-built huts,” and there were no signs of trade or industry. He noted, “the surrounding country yields barely sufficient rice for the consumption of its small population.”

The Japanese, however, saw potential in the port and were busy constructing a consulate on a hill — the building material was carefully guarded by Japanese sailors and marines. These uniformed military men, he remarked, “gave a little life to an otherwise miserable spot, to which the low mud flats left uncovered at low tide give an additional dreary aspect.”

The only things Parkes found of value in Jemulpo were the “bracing” weather and the fine shooting. Apparently, he, like many of the early visitors to the port, enjoyed bird hunting.

However, in late summer, another visiting Englishman provided a more favorable view. He acknowledged that it could hardly “be called a model settlement, but it may possibly have a great future in store.”

He noted that the “Japanese have built a considerable number of shanties, and offer for sale a most heterogeneous mass of commodities. They seem to have settled down determined to cast in their lot with the place, and it may only be a few years before some of these men who are at present owners of a shanty and a few dollars' worth of stores will be wealthy storekeepers.”

Shortly after his departure, an English-language newspaper in China reported that a “European store” had recently opened in the port, and the British government had purchased a plot of land “situated on a small hill” overlooking the Korean Customs Office. The paper speculated the site would soon be surrounded by Europeans doing business in Korea.

A view of the harbor in the early 20th century / Robert Neff Collection

At about the same time, William R. Carles — who would later become the British vice consul at the port — arrived for a short visit. He observed that buildings were going up “as fast as labour and materials could be procured.” Somewhat ironically, he referred to the Korean residents as “squatters,” noting that they “threw up their mud-walled houses” and had them thatched in scarcely less time than the Japanese could erect their two-story houses. Carles also pointed out that the Japanese often lived on the lower floor before the roof was even on.

Carles noted that only the Japanese consul could boast of a “European-style” house, which stood majestically on a hill overlooking the port. He added, “The general impression of [Jemulpo] therefore is one of the discomfort, filth and unfinished work.”

As mentioned earlier, Carles was appointed the British vice consul of the port in the spring of 1884. However, there was no fine European style house for him; instead he was forced to find accommodation in a Japanese house. He occupied three small rooms on the second floor, for which he paid the princely sum of $50 per month. His constable, Leonard Armstrong Hopkins, also found housing in a Japanese house, but judging from his rent of $12 a month, it was clearly of humbler size and quality.

Whatever little peace they enjoyed for their first month or two was soon shattered by a wave of violence that swept through the port. Carles reported that clashes between knife-wielding Japanese residents and Koreans were an “almost daily occurrence and on every occasion hundreds of Japanese have hurried to the spot ready to take the part of their countrymen.”

On Sept. 20, 1884, Horace N. Allen — an American missionary doctor — arrived at the port. In his diary, he immediately described it as a “motley place of slab shanties, mud huts, sheds and bush earth.” He noted that the Japanese consulate was very impressive and that the Japanese held the choicest places for doing business in the port. Allen's diary entry is significant because it is one of the only sources that provides a description of the other consulates in the port.

For their consulate, the Chinese were “wisely building a fine house of brick which they burned themselves on the ground.” He described the recently built American consulate as “a nice little white building” — notably, it was actually a prefabricated structure purchased in Nagasaki, Japan. However, the British government outdid its American counterpart. According to Allen, “The British bought an old Saloon, the Royal Oak in Nagasaki and brought it over to be erected as a consulate.” The disassembled saloon arrived on the same ship as Allen and cost the British government $400 in freight charges.

The British consulate in Nagasaki in the early 20th century / Robert Neff Collection

Two weeks later, a visiting British missionary also commented on the American and Japanese consulates, declaring them to be “the most substantial buildings” in Jemulpo. However, he had great hopes for the British consulate:

“The site for the contemplated British Consulate lies on the summit of a pretty hill overlooking the harbour, which is plentifully studded with little islands, and must be a very beautiful sight to the summer when these islands are covered with green, and blooming with wild flowers. The hills about the settlement are covered with fir-trees and dwarfed oaks, and the dark mountains of Seoul are seen rising far away in the distant east.”

A Russian postcard of Jemulpo in the late 19th or early 20th century / Courtesy of Diane Nars Collection

While the scenery may have been impressive, it was the political view from the consulate's window that was breathtaking.

My appreciation to Diane Nars for allowing me to use one of her images.

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