The Korean post office at Wonsan in the summer of 1901 / Charles Henry Hawes, “In the Uttermost East,” Harper & Brothers, 1903

In the summer of 1900, Francis Arthur Coleridge, a 30-year-old Englishman with the Indian Civil Service, made a brief visit to Wonsan aboard the Japanese steamship Tarien Maru. Coleridge had a keen eye for detail and a deft pen in describing the port — its charms and vexations. There were things that he found intriguing and quaint, while others struck him as frustrating, yet amusing — the Korean post office being one of the latter.

Coleridge described the Korean post office as tucked away “in one of the most out-of-the-way places in the town” with no signs indicating its location. He called it “the most primitive of places” noting that it “lies inside a little court-yard and consists of two little wooden rooms with a little wooden verandah.”

Korea had recently joined the Postal Union and had introduced “six varieties of stamps of its own” in addition to a “full issue of Japanese stamps with the word ‘Corea' sur-charged on them” Judging by the abundance of postcards and envelopes from this period, there was a keen interest in Korean and Japanese postage stamps mailed from the Korean Peninsula. Not only were these stamps unique, they were also fairly expensive and thus prized by collectors around the world. Travelers often covered their cards with stamps, leaving just enough room for very short messages.

When Coleridge entered the post office, he was immediately greeted by the entire staff — five men, including the postmaster. When he made it known that he wanted four sets of stamps, the employees began to calculate the cost. Apparently unaccustomed to such a large purchase, each staff member presented him with a different total.

Stamps are often missing from old postcards and envelopes. Robert Neff Collection

Of course, Coleridge was partially to blame. Ordinary letters were sent through the Japanese post office but Coleridge wanted send his family something special:

“Thinking to puzzle them, I insisted on registering a letter to England. After much talk it was settled how many stamps extra I must put on, and to my astonishment the Post Master gave me a perfectly formal receipt, written in French. I have kept this as a curiosity as it is No. 1 registered letter sent from Gensan Corean Post Office.”

When he went to pay, he encountered a new problem. Even though silver trade dollars and Japanese yen were supposedly accepted at the port, they were not accepted in the post office. He wrote: “Here I first had to deal in cash, a horrible brass coin with a hole in it of which 640 went to a dollar or two shillings.” Adding to the problem, the stamps were “valued in Poons and Cheungs” and no one seemed to know “how many of these go to a dollar.”

Despite the initial difficulties, he was able to send off his letter. However, he was disappointed to discover later that by the time it arrived in England, two of the stamps had been removed by some unknown, unscrupulous collector.

Almost a year later, Charles Henry Hawes, an Englishman, and his American companion had a similar experience. Hawes described the Korean post office as a “‘Magistrature;' a series of bow-roofed courts which to a Westerner suggested stables.”

A postcard of a Korean mail carrier in the early 1900s / Robert Neff Collection

In the furthest building of the post office, they were politely greeted by two white-robed and black-hatted officials. Through their interpreter, the Westerners managed to convey their desire “to purchase a goodly number of stamps, for there were several issues still extant, and the youthful stamp collectors at home would expect us to do our duty that day.”

Once again, the officials were taken aback by the large number of stamps Hawes and his companion wanted to purchase, initiating “the difficult work of calculation.” Hawes wrote:

“The head official resorted as usual in the East to the abacus, but such an abnormal purchase presented unusual difficulty. The sum had been done in my head, and we differed. The chief assayed again, and so did his assistant, but with differing results. At last, discarding the abacus for a slate, he commenced a long addition sum, for fifteen twos (a portion of the calculation) apparently in Korea do not make thirty by multiplication, but only by addition. To our great mutual satisfaction the slate confirmed me in my solution of this tremendous problem.”

Once the transaction was completed, the two officials agreed to allow the Westerners to take a photograph of them and the post office. This is one of the earliest pictures of Wonsan's Korean post office. Unfortunately, we do not know if Hawes' letter made it to England with its full complement of stamps.

As a boy, I remember eagerly waiting for the postal carrier's arrival, ready to harvest stamps from the letters my parents received from friends, family or from one of my many pen pals. Those stamps sparked in me a curiosity about the world. However, technology — mainly email and text messaging — has now rendered stamp-covered envelopes a thing of the past.

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.