Goryeo高麗

The ancestor of Goryeo came out of Buyeo. A king of Buyeo once took a daughter of Habaek and shut her in a room, and the light of the sun followed her and shone upon her. She felt it and so conceived, and she gave birth to one great egg, and a boy broke the shell and came out. He was named Jumong.

The officials of Buyeo said that Jumong had not been born of a man, and they all asked that he be killed, but the king would not listen. When he was grown he went along on the hunts, and he took the most game, so again they asked that he be killed. His mother told Jumong of it, and Jumong left Buyeo and fled to the southeast. He came to a great river, and it was deep and could not be crossed. Jumong said, "I am the grandson of Habaek by his daughter, and the son of the sun. Now I am in danger, and the soldiers who pursue me will soon reach me. How am I to cross?" At this the fish and the turtles piled themselves up and made a bridge, and Jumong crossed over. The horsemen who pursued him could not get across, and they turned back.

Jumong founded a kingdom and called himself Goguryeo, and he took Go (高) for his surname. When Jumong died his son Yeodal followed him. In the time of his grandson Mangnae the army was raised, and Buyeo was at last joined to the kingdom. In the time of his descendant Wigung, in the Zhengshi years of Wei, he raided Xi'anping, and Guanqiu Jian fought him off and broke him.

The son of Wigung's great-great-grandson was called the Soyeol Emperor, and he was broken by the Murong. The Murong then entered Hwando, burned its palace buildings, plundered greatly, and went back. The Soyeol Emperor was later killed by Baekje. His great-grandson Ryeon (King Jangsu) sent an envoy to the Later Wei. Ryeon's descendant in the sixth generation, Tang (King Pyeongwon), sent an envoy with tribute in the time of Zhou, and Emperor Wu made Tang senior kaifu, Duke of the Liaodong Commandery, and King of Liaodong. When Gaozu (Emperor Wen of Sui) received the throne by abdication, Tang sent an envoy to the palace gate again, and he was raised to General-in-Chief and enfeoffed anew as King of Goryeo. Year by year he sent envoys, and the tribute did not cease.

The country is two thousand li from east to west and more than a thousand li from north to south. Its capital is at Pyeongyang Fortress, which is also called Jang'an Fortress. It is six li from east to west, winding along the hills, and on the south it faces the Paesu. There are also Gungnae Fortress and Hanseong, and both of them are seats of the capital, so within the country they are called the Three Capitals. Goryeo and Silla are always taking from each other, and the fighting does not stop.

Among the offices there is the rank of taedaehyeong, and next daehyeong, next sohyeong, next daero, next uihusa, next ojol, next taedaesaja, next daesaja, next sosaja, next yoksa, next yesok, next seonin: twelve ranks in all. There are also the naepyeong and the oepyeong, and the yoksal of the five bu.

All the people wear leather caps, and the men in office add the feather of a bird to them. The caps of the noble are of purple silk and are dressed with gold and silver. They wear a coat with wide sleeves and trousers with a wide leg, a plain leather belt and yellow leather shoes. The women put a border on skirt and jacket. Their weapons are much the same as those of China. Every spring and autumn they hold a great hunt, and the king comes to it himself.

Each person pays a tax of five bolts of cloth and five seom of grain. Those who move about pay a tax once in three years, and ten of them together pay one bolt of fine cloth. Of the grain tax (租) the upper household pays one seom, the next seven mal, the lowest five mal. One who rebels is bound to a post and burned and then beheaded, and his household is taken by the state. One who steals repays tenfold. The punishments are used so severely that few offend.

Their instruments are the five-stringed zither, the geomungo, the jaeng, the pillyul, the transverse flute, the panpipe, the drum and the like, and they blow on reeds to keep with the tune. At the beginning of every year they gather to play on the banks of the Paesu. The king rides in a litter and sets out his feather standards to watch. When the playing is done the king goes into the water with his clothes on, and they divide into two sides, left and right, and splash water and throw stones at one another, shouting and running after one another, and they stop after two or three rounds.

In their customs they like to squat. They take their pleasure in being clean, and they hold it respectful to walk with quick short steps. When they bow they drag one leg. When they stand they each fold their hands behind them. When they walk they must swing their arms. In their nature there is much of deceiving and hiding. Father and son bathe in the same stream and sleep in the same room. The women run off in lewdness, and by custom there are many women who roam.

In marriage, if the man and the woman are pleased with each other it is done at once. The man's house sends pork and wine, and that is all; there is no rite of taking a bride with goods. If anyone does take goods, the people all hold it a shame.

The dead are laid out within the house, and when three years have passed a lucky day is chosen and they are buried. For the mourning of parents and of a husband the garments are worn three years in every case, and for a brother three months. When the death first comes they weep and cry aloud, but at the burial they beat drums and dance and make music to send the dead away. When the burying is done, they take all the clothing and the ornaments and the carts and horses that the dead used while living and set them beside the grave, and those who have gathered for the burial snatch them and carry them off. They revere ghosts and spirits, and there are many shrines outside the proper rites (淫祠).

In the early years of Kaihuang envoys came often to court. After Chen was pacified, Tang was greatly afraid, and he put his army in order and stored up grain and made plans to hold out and resist. In the seventeenth year the emperor gave Tang a letter under the seal.

"I have received the mandate of Heaven, and I cherish and rear all within the land. I entrusted the corner of the sea to the king, that he might spread abroad the teaching of the court, and I wished every one of round head and square foot to fulfil his own heart. The king sends envoys always and brings tribute year by year, and though he calls himself a vassal, he does not give his loyalty and his faithfulness in full. The king is already the subject of another, and he ought to be one in virtue with me; yet instead he drives and presses the Malgal and shuts the Khitan in hard. The many vassal peoples bow their heads to the ground and are my servants, and they are good people who long for what is right; yet he resents them. How deep is this will to do harm?

The craftsmen of the Grand Treasury are not few in number. If the king must have them, he may simply ask and it will be reported. In a past year he sent goods about in secret and moved small men by profit, and took men who handle the crossbow away in private, so that they fled down into his country. Is this not that he means to put his weapons in order, and that his purpose is not good, and that he feared it would be heard outside and so stole them away?

At times I have sent envoys to comfort the king's country, meaning from the first to ask after the feeling of the people there and to teach them the way of governing. But the king seated them in an empty guest-house and set a strict guard on them, shutting their eyes and stopping their ears, so that they should never hear or see anything. What hidden evil is there that he does not wish others to know, that he binds his officers and fears their looking into it? Again he has sent horsemen often to kill the people of my border, and time and again he has worked crafty plots and made up twisted words. His heart is not in submitting as a guest."

"I look upon all the living as my own infants. I gave the king his land, I gave the king his office and rank, and my deep kindness and my special favour are clear to far and near. Yet the king holds nothing but distrust, and of himself he is forever suspecting and mistrusting, and he sends men always to spy out news in secret. Is the duty of a pure subject like this?

Perhaps it is that my own teaching has not been clear. The king's faults I have already forgiven once. From this day on he must reform. Let him keep the duty of a vassal subject and uphold the right laws of the court, teaching his own country and not crossing other countries; then he will enjoy wealth and honour long, and it will truly answer my heart.

That one region of his is narrow in land and few in people, but all under the whole sky are my subjects. If I were to cast the king out now, the place could not be left empty; in the end officers would have to be chosen again and sent there to settle the people. If the king washes his heart and changes his ways and follows the statutes, then he is my good subject, and why should I trouble to send men of talent besides?

When the emperors and kings of old made law, they put benevolence and faithfulness first: where there was good they must reward, where there was evil they must punish, and all within the four seas heard my purpose. If the king were without guilt and I suddenly brought soldiers against him, what would the other vassal countries say of me? The king must empty his heart and take in this purpose of mine. Do not doubt, I beg, and do not hold any other design again."

"In past days Chen Shubao (the last ruler of Chen) held the land south of the Jiang in succession. He harmed the common people, alarmed my beacon-posts and plundered my borders. I warned and commanded him for ten years and more, but he trusted in being beyond the long Jiang and gathered the host of one corner, and being foolish and haughty he would not follow my words. So I ordered my generals to send out the army and to put away those wicked rebels, and the going and the coming did not fill a month, and the soldiers and horsemen were not more than a few thousand. The escaped bandits of many generations were swept clean in one morning, far and near were governed and at peace, and men and spirits rejoiced together.

I hear that the king sighed and grieved, and mourned alone. To cast down the dark and raise up the bright is the office of those who have charge of it. If I would punish the king, it would not be because Chen fell; if I would reward the king, it would not be because Chen stood. To delight in disaster and be fond of disorder — why does he do so?

Does the king think the breadth of the Liao is like the Jiang? Are the people of Goryeo more than the country of Chen? If I did not hold to cherishing and rearing, and would call the king to account for his past faults, I would order one general and no great strength would be needed. I set it out earnestly and allow the king to make himself new. Let him take in my heart, and seek much blessing for himself."

When Tang received the letter he was in dread, and he was about to send up a memorial to beg pardon when he fell ill and died. His son Won (King Yeongyang) followed him and ascended the throne. Gaozu sent an envoy to make Won senior kaifu and Commander Unequalled in Honour, to hold in succession the title of Duke of the Liaodong Commandery, and he gave him one set of robes. Won sent up a memorial thanking him for the favour, and with it he offered congratulations on the auspicious signs, and so he asked to be enfeoffed as king. Gaozu treated him kindly and invested Won as king.

In the next year Won led more than ten thousand horsemen of the Malgal and raided Liaoxi, and Wei Chong, the commandant-general of Yingzhou, struck him and drove him off. When Gaozu heard it he was greatly angry, and he made Liang, the Prince of Han, his marshal, and set him to attack by water and by land together, and he sent down an edict stripping Won of his rank. At that time the carrying of grain did not keep up and the six armies lacked food, and when the army went out by the Linyu Pass they met a pestilence as well, so the royal army did not prosper. When they came to the Liao River, Won too was afraid, and he sent an envoy to beg pardon and sent up a memorial calling himself "Won, your subject of the dung-earth of Liaodong," and more of the same. The emperor then stopped the fighting and treated him as he had at first, and Won too sent tribute year by year.

When Emperor Yang succeeded to the throne the realm was at its full, and the king of Gaochang and Qimin Qaghan of the Tujue both came to the palace gate in person and presented tribute. He therefore summoned Won to come to court. Won was afraid, and he was much wanting in the rites of a vassal.

In the seventh year of Daye the emperor set out to punish Won's guilt. The imperial carriage crossed the Liao River and camped at the fortress of Liaodong, and he sent the army out by separate roads, each of them halting beneath its own fortress. Goryeo led out soldiers to resist, but they had the worse of the fighting again and again, and so they all clung to their walls and held them fast. The emperor ordered the several armies to attack, and he commanded his generals as well: "If Goryeo surrenders, then comfort them and take them in at once, and do not let the soldiers loose."

When a fortress was about to fall, the enemy would at once say that they asked to surrender, and the generals, holding the imperial word, dared not take the moment, but first had it reported at a gallop. By the time the answer came back the enemy's defences were ready again, and they came out and fought once more. This happened two or three times, and the emperor did not see it. Because of this the food ran out and the army grew weary, and the carrying could not keep up, and the several armies were much defeated, and so he turned the army back. On this campaign the only thing done was that west of the Liao River they took the enemy's Muryeora, set up the Liaodong Commandery and the garrison of Tongding, and came back.

In the ninth year the emperor went out to punish him in person again, and he commanded the several armies to act as they saw fit. The generals attacked the fortresses by separate roads, and the enemy's strength grew straitened by the day. Then Yang Xuangan raised a revolt, and when word of the rising came the emperor was greatly afraid, and that same day the six armies all turned back. Husi Zheng, the vice minister of war, fled into Goryeo, and Goryeo came to know the whole of the matter, so they came in pursuit with all their best troops, and the rear guard was much defeated.

In the tenth year he called up the soldiers of the realm again, but robbers were swarming up everywhere and many people had fled and scattered, so the roads were blocked in place after place and the armies often failed their appointed time. When they came to the Liao River, Goryeo too was worn out, and they sent an envoy to beg for surrender and sent Husi Zheng in bonds to buy off their guilt. The emperor allowed it and halted at the garrison of Huaiyuan and received their submission. He came back with the captives and the goods of war. When he reached the capital he had the envoy of Goryeo report in person at the Grand Shrine, and then he held him there. He summoned Won to come to court again, but Won in the end did not come. The emperor ordered the several armies to make ready in earnest and to plan a further move, but then the realm fell into great disorder, and so in the end he could not go again.