“The position of court physician [in the mid-1880s] was no sinecure,” especially if you were a foreigner, declared Horace N. Allen in one of his many publications of life in Korea.
In the summer of 1884, Korea was not a place for casual tourists or globetrotters seeking to impress their peers. It was especially not for missionaries lacking conviction and courage. Commonly referred to as “The Hermit Kingdom,” the peninsula was in the vortex of change. Christianity was still barely tolerated; there was animosity and mistrust towards foreigners fueled by the brief and violent encounters with foreign nations - France in 1866, the USA in 1871 and Japan in 1875. The peninsula was also gripped with a degree of political instability as evidenced by a bloody coup in 1882.
In the final days of February 1885, Seoul was awash with activity. The main city streets (especially the street running between Gyeongbok and Changdeok palaces), notorious for being cluttered with squatters shacks, unauthorized booths and extensions to the shops of merchants, were cleared out and all the debris was removed.
On the night of Feb. 23, 1885, Seoul was visited by one of its most dangerous adversaries - a fire! George C. Foulk, the American representative in Seoul, reported that a large “conflagration broke out” in a Korean government-owned lumberyard and warehouses just to the north of the American Legation. The buildings and a “quantity of valuable timber” were destroyed.
In the 19th century, Korea was often referred to as the “Land of the Morning Calm” but it was far from accurate - especially at night, when it became a realm of loud mourning.