06. Yi Gwal’s Rebellion, Battle of Anryeong
Lunar calendar, February 9, 1624.
Yi Gwal had finally crossed the Matan upstream of the Yesong River.
King Injo, without even a proper escort, had fled in the middle of the night to Gongju’s Gongsanseong the previous evening.
Once the king and high-ranking officials left, the bustling atmosphere of Hanyang suddenly fell silent, as if someone had thrown cold water over it.
“Is it true that the country is falling apart?”
“Yes! Don’t speak such nonsense!”
“The king hasn’t even ruled for a year, and now this happens.”
“It’s because the one on the throne lacks virtue. This king should have been a stronger man.”
The common people of Hanyang weren’t worried about a change of rulers. They merely wished that someone better would sit on the throne this time.
No one stood up boldly, pledging loyalty to defend the court.
“Where are the rebels now?”
“Yes, reports from scouts say they’ll reach Hanyang tonight.”
“What will you do, young master? There are no government troops left in Hanyang, and the public sentiment isn’t favorable. Gathering militias will be difficult.”
“There’s no need to gather militias. Pack your things and head to Anryeong immediately. Deliver my orders there.”
“Yes, sir.”
Gathering militias was out of the question. Following the so-called loyalists would only lead them to their graves.
Even if I tried, there would be no credit for my great uncle. I decided instead to head to Anryeong.
“But why Anryeong?”
“Buk-san of Hanyang is Anryeong. Military strategy says that whoever controls Buk-san wins. The government troops will follow the rebels there.”
“Indeed… young master, you have a plan.”
“Enough. You’re too small-minded to understand. Go inform the steward immediately.”
Honestly, I had also figured this out.
The reason they were charging forward so recklessly was simple: to end this great game by capturing the king and forcing him to surrender.
However, Yi Gwal was completely ignorant of Hanyang’s situation.
The grandson of Prince Neungyang, though politically inexperienced, had inherited a bit of cunning from his lineage, leaving Hanyang with nothing decisive to stop the rebellion.
So, even if Yi Gwal rushed to Hanyang, the following government troops would catch up and crush them. Attacking Hanyang, the most populous city in the country, would be like poking a beehive—suicidal.
Though it pricked my conscience, I knew maintaining some authority over my subordinates required a show of confidence.
“Also, send Bokdong, who rides especially well, to inform my uncle in Hohyeon at Fox Pass that we’re heading to Anryeong.”
“You mean the steward?”
“Yes. Tell him the rebels will only reach Hanyang tonight, and the siege will begin tomorrow, so he must move quickly.”
“Yes, young master.”
My great uncle was stationed at Hohyeon, near Daadong, about 100 ri (roughly 40 km) away. My memory said it was Siheung, but somehow now it was considered part of Incheon.
According to secret reports sent via messengers, the government troops were a disorderly bunch.
Jung Choong-shin and Jang-man, commanding 2,000 hastily gathered provincial soldiers, were competent, but they couldn’t match the elite troops Yi Gwal had brought from the north.
Without reinforcements from Chungcheong Province, the outcome was uncertain. Even knowing history’s result, I couldn’t fathom how it had been won originally.
“So… what should I say?”
“Just say… to Anryeong.”
I bit back my impatience. They needed to arrive quickly, so my uncle could act without delay.
“Add that there was a skirmish with rebels while joining government troops.”
“Yes, sir. I will.”
“Tell Bokdong to explain that nothing significant was known, but the situation was urgent.”
“Yes, young master.”
If I made it seem as though the rebels had already begun infiltrating Hanyang, my uncle would hurry.
“Governor, Yi Gwal is gathering Hanyang citizens. What shall we do?”
“This lunatic. He thinks this is some local skirmish. Tear him apart!”
“Calm down, sir. Nothing will change. I and my left troops will hold Gae Hill, the rest will block the northern, western, and Changui Gate paths.”
“Yes, understood.”
By the next morning, Yi Gwal had reached Hanyang, breathing heavily, and spent the night there. Meanwhile, I had arrived at Anryeong (Muak Mountain) and, using my uncle’s name, led thirty men as militia to join the government troops.
The previous night, Yi Gwal, knowing that holding Hanyang would only sway public sentiment and that capturing it would merely waste time, chose to fight. He also hoped to destroy the government troops to win public favor, so he spread the word widely.
For the locals, the ultimate spectacle was battle. And the most thrilling battles were those fought with the fate of the nation at stake.
By 6 a.m., people had already gathered nearby.
“What will you do, Seong? Can you fight?”
“My uncle said righteousness is like the sun: the closer it is, the fiercer it becomes. How could I hesitate?”
“You have a brave nephew. I see.”
“If necessary, I have something to propose.”
“What is it? Speak freely.”
Though our militia numbered only thirty, the people’s support proved the government troops’ authority. I, leading them, was the nephew of a Chungcheong soldier, symbolizing that reinforcements would soon arrive.
Thus, I could voice suggestions.
“From observation, strong winds blow from Anryeong to Hanyang at this hour. Shall we use it?”
“Use the wind? Do you mean fire attacks? Impossible. How could we set fire near the royal temples?”
“Not fire. Just cover eyes and nose.”
I revealed the chili powder and ashes I had gathered in the city.
“I mixed chili and ash and collected a cartload. Spreading this will temporarily blind the rebels.”
“And then?”
“Cover our noses and mouths, arm ourselves, and behead the rebel leader.”
“Possible?”
“Absolutely.”
Chemical warfare training was basic. Though I’d only practiced with minimal setups, this was manageable. 17th-century chemical warfare—it thrilled me.
“Good. Do it. Notify the nearest ally once you secure the enemy’s head.”
“Yes, sir.”
These young men were already thinking of taking credit. Outwardly righteous, inwardly cunning.
“Kill them all! These ragtag fools! Quick, then return to the palace and feast!”
“Waaah!”
As men and horses charged, arrows filled the sky.
Though arrows rained down in high arcs from the hills and forests, soldiers blocked them skillfully with shields.
Hundreds, even thousands of arrows fell, but only a handful were hit—a testament to the rebels’ elite training.
“Prepare to fire!”
“Ready!”
“Fire!”
Bang!
Rat-tat-tat!
The few cannons were small. Large shot fired first, followed by musket balls.
Shields held up the fire, and the two forces gradually closed the distance.
Thump!
Rebels’ volleys struck efficiently, piercing poorly trained provincial soldiers.
“Argh!”
“Too many! We can’t win!”
“Hold! Chungcheong reinforcements are coming! Hold!”
“Any deserters, punish by military law!”
Government commanders shouted to restore discipline amid chaos.
Whoooosh!
A chilling wind from Muak Mountain swept down the valley.
“Wind’s rising!”
“Cover your noses and mouths!”
“Seong-ah! Now!”
We hastily covered our faces. The wind, growing stronger, swept down the mountain, shaking branches and trees.
“Move out! Ready?”
“Yes!”
“Ready!”
“Release the sacks!”
Whoooosh!
Dozens of sacks of chili and ash flew into the air, blanketing the enemy in a spicy, stinging cloud.
“Go! All of you!”
“Cover fire mistakes, and I’ll make you do physical training!”
“Yes!”
I trusted Seong completely—these were my trained children. Three experts in matchlocks stayed behind.
“Argh!”
“Stay calm! Cover noses and mouths!”
A high-ranking officer, Han Myeong-ryeon, red-clad with sword in hand, shouted to stabilize the troops.
Seong noticed instantly.
It was like catching a big fish instead of a small one.
“Han Myeong-ryeon, you lowly bastard!”
“Who dares speak to me!”
Veterans in battle rarely tolerated insults. Han Myeong-ryeon, a lifetime soldier, instinctively shouted back.
Seong and the militia quickly advanced into the fray.
Thwack!
“Here to save the family!”
Thunk!
Even amidst battle, Seong found a moment to joke.
The battle ended in victory.
Seong’s chemical and decapitation tactics worked. The rebels, despite superior numbers and quality, faltered.
Yet the fight was far from easy. Ill-trained government troops struggled with cohesion, requiring commanders to intervene directly.
Just as it seemed the rebels might win, Chungcheong cavalry under officer Lee Hun appeared from the south, crushing Yi Gwal’s forces and securing victory.
“Seong-ah! Where are you! Seong-ah!”
“Officer, we cannot stop! Rebels remain!”
“My son! Seong-ah!”
After the battle, Seong and his men had only minor injuries.
Among Seong’s arms, someone lay peacefully—my uncle I Shin, a son of Yi Sun-sin, whom Seong had never met before.
