owners before leaving, but many of them had been forced
open and looted. The destruction in other towns paled to nothing, however,
before the havoc wrought in Chee-chong. Here was a town completely
destroyed.

Chee-chong was, up to the late summer of 1907, an important rural centre,
containing between 2,000 and 3,000 inhabitants, and beautifully situated in
a sheltered plain, surrounded by high mountains. It was a favourite resort
of high officials, a Korean Bath or Cheltenham. Many of the houses were
large, and some had tiled roofs--a sure evidence of wealth.

When the "Righteous Army" began operations, one portion of it occupied the
hills beyond Chee-chong. The Japanese sent a small body of troops into the
town. These were attacked one night on three sides, several were killed,
and the others were compelled to retire. The Japanese despatched
reinforcements, and after some fighting regained lost ground. They then
determined to make Chee-chong an example to the countryside. The entire
town was put to the torch. The soldiers carefully tended the flames, piling
up everything for destruction. Nothing was left, save one image of Buddha
and the magistrate's yamen. When the Koreans fled, five men, one woman, and
a child, all wounded, were left behind. These disappeared in the flames.

It was a hot early autumn when I reached Chee-chong. The brilliant sunshine
revealed a Japanese flag waving-over a hillock commanding the town, and
glistened against the bayonet of a Japanese sentry. I dismounted and walked
down the streets and over the heaps of ashes. Never have I witnessed such
complete destruction. Where a month before there had been a busy and
prosperous community, there was now nothing but lines of little heaps of
black and gray dust and cinders. Not a whole wall, not a beam, and not an
unbroken jar remained. Here and there a man might be seen poking among the
ashes, seeking for aught of value. The search was vain. Chee-chong had been
wiped off the map. "Where are your people?" I asked the few searchers.
"They are lying on the hillsides," came the reply.

Up to this time I had not met a single rebel soldier, and very few
Japanese. My chief meeting with the Japanese occurred the previous day at
Chong-ju. As I approached that town, I noticed that its ancient walls were
broken down. The stone arches of the city gates were left, but the gates
themselves and most of the walls had gone. A Japanese sentry and a gendarme
stood a