Chapter 09. Abandoning Uiju Fortress as Planned
Why do people go to war?
Is it just because they dislike the person sitting next to them?
Because they want to smash a skull that irritates them and reshape it to their liking?
Of course not. It is because they want something.
That’s why Hideyoshi, the Japanese monkey in the heated shoe closet, attacked Joseon for internal stability. And that’s why the Ming emperor, Wanli, sent troops under the pretense of “lips and teeth” to protect Joseon.
So why did the Later Jin (Later Jurchen, Later Jin dynasty, later Qing) turn from fighting the Ming to setting their eyes on Joseon?
The reason was simple: because they were starving. No—because they were starving to death.
In Manchuria, where the Later Jin lived, a terrible famine had struck since 1626. The scariest part of this famine was that even if you had money, you could still starve to death.
Nurhaci, the sixth-generation descendant of Yi Seong-gye’s branch of the family, had founded the Later Jin and attacked the Ming to obtain Heaven’s Mandate. But because of that, they couldn’t even buy grain from Ming with money.
In 1626, Nurhaci died while campaigning against the Mongols. His successor, Hong Taiji, began to pressure Joseon—just to get food.
At first, it was moderate requests, like: “Open the market. We’ll pay silver. Just sell us rice.”
But Joseon, being a tributary of Ming, could not sell grain to Later Jin.
When Joseon rejected them, Hong Taiji decided to resolve the food crisis through war.
“Since my father—who called Joseon ‘the land of my ancestors’—is now dead, isn’t this the perfect time to strike, without even being called unfilial?”
“Then, what you mean is… ‘You started a war because you have no food?’”
“That’s right.”
“If you’re hungry, you could simply bring a bowl and beg for a lump of rice. But instead, you solve it with swords? Truly savages.”
“If it were you, would you give it?”
“If they came to buy it, I would sell it gladly. Selling grain brings money, and taxes could be lighter then.”
But really, would taxes be reduced? Of course not. The taxes would remain the same, and the only result would be that some noblemen in Hanyang would enjoy another piece of meat on their tables.
In modern times, it’s common sense that when war breaks out in a neighboring country, opportunists insert straws straight into people’s spines for profit. But this was 17th-century Joseon, still bound by Zhu Xi’s Neo-Confucian ideals from 500 years earlier.
I waved my right hand vaguely at Yi Gaja, who had spoken those clever words, and entered the office carrying news from across the river.
“I, aide Yi Seong, have arrived with news from the north.”
“Come in.”
“Yes, sir.”
Inside the meeting room sat Yi Wan, Uiju’s governor and commander; Yi Huigeon, magistrate of Yongcheon; and An Gyeongsim, magistrate of Cheolsan.
I had met Magistrate An through dealings with Mo Mun-ryong, and Magistrate Yi Huigeon, with whom I had worked on the Yonggol Mountain Fortress expansion, gave a cough instead of a greeting.
“Now, Governor, tell us why we have been called here.”
“Fine. Aide, unroll it.”
“Yes, sir.”
The scroll in my hand was a report sent by Go Ilhwan, the eldest of the five Go brothers who led our reconnaissance unit. I unrolled it so that everyone could see.
“What is this?”
“It records the enemy’s movements.”
“There are rumors that tens of thousands left Shenyang, and that since last month, grain has been heading there continuously?”
“And yesterday, a report came that smoke was seen rising from where Bonghwang Fortress used to stand. Surely you magistrates can guess.”
“Are you saying the barbarians are marching south?”
My uncle gave a heavy nod instead of answering.
Everyone already knew—the Later Jin were advancing south, and now they had camped not far from Uiju.
Magistrate Yi Huigeon, from Yongcheon, visibly stiffened. He glared at the report, his mind racing.
“A memorial must already have been sent to Hanyang… What will you do, Governor? The enemy is said to number at least 20,000, while Uiju only has 4,000 local troops and 200 auxiliary soldiers.”
“Are you suggesting we run away? Magistrate An, how can you say such a thing?”
“I didn’t say that. I only asked about your plan. Why are you so angry, Magistrate Yi?”
“Calm yourselves. It is already certain the enemy has arrived nearby. I have a plan.”
My uncle nodded toward me and Judge Choi Mongryang.
There was already a manual for a Later Jin invasion.
After my uncle became governor of Uiju, I had pressed him about this constantly.
If they waited until after the invasion to gather regional soldiers, it would be too late. Until then, only Uiju’s 4,000 troops and the fortress walls could hold out against 30,000 horsemen. That was not enough.
“From here, Aide Yi will explain. He has studied the Later Jin’s movements for years and prepared measures for a major invasion. He’s not trustworthy just because he’s my nephew, but because he’s a capable officer.”
“Understood. Aide, what do you suggest?”
“Yes, Uiju Fortress was built on flat ground beside the river. It cannot be defended for long.”
My uncle and Magistrate Yi already knew what would come next. That was why I had pestered Yi for years about Yonggol Fortress.
Magistrate An looked at me suspiciously. Could it be? His eyes asked the question. Yes, exactly that.
“We will abandon Uiju Fortress.”
“Aide Yi!”
“And we will move to Yonggol Fortress.”
“Aide Yi! No, Governor! How can you say we will abandon Uiju Fortress!”
“Yes. Uiju Fortress would be an excellent stronghold if the Amnok River (Yalu River) were a moat. But now, in winter, the river is frozen solid. It’s nothing but open plain, and the fortress stands in the middle of it.”
“Then what of the civilians of Uiju?”
“We will take them all with us.”
That had been the hard part. Who wouldn’t feel sick knowing their homes might burn in war? There was no insurance, no government compensation. And superstition said ancestors lived in the house and kitchen gods in the hearth.
If I had said, “Everyone abandon your homes and move to Yonggol Fortress,” many would have replied, “We’d rather die here with our homes.”
But my uncle was no ordinary man.
Thanks to the halo of Admiral Yi Sun-sin’s name and his own years of charity in Uiju, the people respected him like a true father. So last month, I managed to get their promise that, “In case of emergency, we will move to Yonggol Fortress.”
“Magistrate Yi, can Yonggol Fortress hold them all?”
“Yes. Do you know how much this aide has nagged me over the years? Which aide ever dared shout at a magistrate like that?”
And I had indeed nagged him. With living saints behind me and ancestors above, who could stop me?
After two years of pestering, Yonggol Fortress was now stronger and larger than history recorded, with plentiful wells inside and supplies stacked up thanks to Sim’s trading company.
Even Magistrate Yi, who once scowled at me for wasting effort, now avoided my eyes, ashamed at being proven wrong.
“Four days. We need only hold Uiju for four days. By then, all civilians will have entered Yonggol Fortress.”
“And at the end? To retreat, someone must hold the road.”
“There is a way.”
“Ha… So you two prepared all this together?”
“My nephew—no, this aide—planned it all. Magistrate An, don’t you agree he’s capable?”
“…Yes, though this task is beyond an aide’s usual role.”
Please, Uncle, don’t look so proud. Magistrate An was just being sarcastic.
Anyway, everything had been planned. Even training the local troops under Yi Gaja had been for this very day.
“Hold out! The civilians have not yet finished evacuating! Fight with all your strength!”
“Sir! The west gate is in danger!”
“Damn it!”
Lunar calendar, January 13, 1627.
The Later Jin crossed the frozen Yalu River and invaded Joseon.
They had first tried to sneak into Uiju Fortress to burn the granary, led by traitor Han Yun—whose father had once been beheaded by a young militia boy. Han Yun escaped yet again, legs like iron, even with arrows sticking from his backside.
When the surprise failed, the Later Jin launched a full invasion under Gang Hong-rip, claiming the pretense of “avenge the dethroned king.”
But their pettiness had already been exposed, so Judge Choi Mongryang of Uiju mocked them loudly: “Did the dethroned king tell you to take revenge with your butthole?”
And so, from the 13th onward, the battle continued. By the 17th, it had been four days.
“If this goes on, the walls will fall! They’re smashing it with cannons from somewhere!”
“Damn it! Not yet! The people haven’t all escaped!”
At the west gate, Captain Dokgo of Jingang Guard clenched his throat and shouted.
BOOM!
–Uwaaaaaah!
A thunderous roar shook the walls as a cannon fired. Luckily, the shots only struck the ground before the walls. Dokgo sneered, “As if these barbarians know how to handle artillery.” But he still worried.
“Sir! The people have all evacuated! They beg you to act!”
“Good! Everyone retreat! We leave through the south gate as planned!”
“Yes, sir!”
They blew up the west gate. A crazy plan, to destroy one’s own walls to block the enemy—but it had been approved by the governor.
The soldiers lit the powder piled behind the west gate as they fled.
“Stupid barbarians. They thought the powder was at the south gate and came here? Fooled you.”
It was Han Yun again who had betrayed them with false intel. But that too was part of the plan.
Dokgo led the men toward the south gate, even as Later Jin troops climbed the walls—
BOOOOOM!
—and vanished in the explosion.
At the narrow southern passage, blocked by the Hwae-nae River, Nam Mountain, and fortress walls, 400 men stood tightly packed, shields and spears and muskets ready. They looked like an iron warship brought onto land.
“Lieutenant Yi! I entrust this to you! I must go to the mountain fortress! Can you hold it?”
“That’s exactly what we trained for! Soldiers, hear me! Trust your comrades! I will block your death, and you will block mine! Do you understand?”
“Yes, sir!”
–“Chase them! Kill the Joseon dogs!”
The Later Jin cavalry charged.
“Pikes ready! Prepare to fire!”
“Ready!”
“Fire at 100 paces! Again I say—trust your comrades! We are one! We are a legion!”
“We are a legion!”
“Fire!”
BANG!
Running toward Yonggol Fortress, Dokgo heard it. Just one shot, but it sounded like an earthquake.
Yet it was not one shot.
“Lieutenant Yi! I entrust this to you!”
At that moment, there was no one more trustworthy in the world. He had said to believe—so they believed, and ran.
They ran until their lungs burned. And behind them, no Later Jin pursuers came.
