The White Man's Burden
The year 1863 was nothing short of a festival for the South.
Only recently, the region had been thoroughly trounced in the war, humiliated by a madman attempting to assassinate the president and a lunatic trying to seize Congress by force. Its reputation had plummeted into the abyss.
Yet when James Serget, the Apostle of Cotton, carved open a new market in Qing and expanded into Japan, a long-absent vitality returned to the land.
On top of that, the emergence of new heroes known as the KKK elevated the South’s spirit, spreading widespread optimism that a second golden age for us Dixies was on the horizon.
It was precisely because they understood this public mood that Nathan Bedford Forrest and the KKK’s top leadership set off ambitiously for Joseon.
The laudatory articles about them that Leo had brought from home completely paralyzed their reason.
“In any case, those so-called Chosens will be no different from these Japanese monkeys.”
“Exactly. Still, let’s at least gather some information by asking the monkeys living here.”
Forrest, who still retained a speck of sanity, used Serget Cotton employees to investigate Japanese perceptions of Joseon before departing Japan.
“Joseon, you say? We did learn various things from them in the past, but it is now an outdated nation with nothing left to teach us.”
“Correct. Intellectuals in our divine land have recently begun arguing openly that we must conquer Joseon if we are to advance outward.”
I see. From what he had heard, these Chosen monkeys were truly pathetic—looked down upon even by the Japanese here.
Since the Japanese themselves were, in the KKK’s eyes, an inferior race even lower than Black people, anything beneath the Japanese required no further consideration.
“Then there is nothing to see. Launch the ship! We shall grant Joseon the glory of using our Southern cotton as well.”
“However, Joseon is a closed country that does not engage in foreign trade. Our own dealings are limited to a small city in the south of Joseon…”
“Then we simply advance there first! These fools truly have no thoughts at all.”
Since they had already run wild in Yokohama, the same approach would surely work in Joseon.
The KKK naturally chose to hitch a ride on Japanese merchants’ ships.
Of course, the merchants had not loaded these blockheads aboard without any calculation.
They had taken on this troublesome cargo both to rid themselves of the unbearable rampage the group had unleashed in Yokohama and out of greed for the goods they carried.
The quality of American yarn is astonishing. If we take this to Joseon and sell it, we’ll make a fortune.
Though Joseon clung to isolationism, trade through the Waegwan at Dongrae had never been completely cut off.
A few strings of coins slipped to the officials, some smooth talk labeling the fine American thread as “the latest from a great power” or “a new Japanese product,” and the deal was done.
The moment the ship—each party lost in its own delusions—passed through Tsushima and dropped anchor at the Choryang Waegwan in Busan,
“Now is the time! Let us display the majesty of the white race!”
“Equipment complete! Descending!”
Forrest and his executives donned their white hoods and robes even more solemnly than they had in Japan.
White giants descended onto the dock, their robes fluttering dramatically behind them.
The Japanese interpreter following them already looked as though he had seen a ghost.
“P-please… I beg you, just stay quiet…”
But there was no chance his pleas would reach their ears.
Forrest spread both arms wide toward the Joseon officials who had come to greet them and bellowed,
“Behold! Brothers of the East! The White Knights have come to bestow civilization upon you!”
“······Hiiik!”
The inspectors and local officers who had come for the inspection recoiled in terror.
It was only natural. Giant men covered from head to toe in white funerary clothes, faces hidden, had come shouting at the top of their lungs.
“What in the world are those things? Have the Japanese gone mad? Did they bring a whole crowd of mourners? Did some high official die?”
“Why do the mourners look so hideous? What are those horn-like things on their heads…”
In Joseon, white clothing was everyday attire, but covering the head and face with white hoods was unmistakably funerary garb—specifically the attire of criminals who had suffered particularly gruesome deaths.
“They must be madmen possessed by the vengeful spirits of those who died far from home, or Western shamans! Salt! Bring the salt!”
“Get away! You’ll bring bad luck!”
When the officials pinched their noses and waved the group away, the KKK members did not panic. Instead, they looked at one another and cackled.
“Observe, Grand Wizard. They are so overwhelmed by our presence that they dare not approach.”
“As expected of the white-robed people. They recognize the authority of white.”
The fact that these yellow-skinned people wore white clothing must stem from their yearning for the purity of pure white. Therefore, it was only natural that the brilliant white garments woven from Southern cotton appeared as dazzling as the sun to them.
The Japanese interpreter caught in the middle of this catastrophic misunderstanding, however, looked ready to drop dead on the spot.
He could not help but feel a grudging respect for how the Black men in Yokohama had managed to manipulate these lunatics into conducting business.
Breaking into a cold sweat, the interpreter bowed deeply to the Joseon officials.
“Your Excellency, please do not be offended. These men are… ah… priests from the West. That is their ceremonial attire for performing rites, so please…”
“Rites? The Western barbarians perform ancestral rites?”
“Y-yes! They are extremely filial. They dress like this as though they are in mourning for their parents.”
The official clicked his tongue.
“What strange creatures. For the Japanese to associate with Westerners who practice such bizarre sorcery—the world truly is coming to an end.”
“···.”
“Lest their impurity spread, lock those crazy mourners in a corner room deep inside the Waegwan and ensure they never come out. If the common people see them they may faint from shock, so take every measure to keep them from leaving the Waegwan.”
“Th-thank you! We will keep it in mind!”
The interpreter, looking relieved that things had gone smoothly, gave the merchants a meaningful glance.
The merchants skillfully slipped a hefty silver ingot into the official’s sleeve and whispered,
“And this is cotton yarn newly arrived from a great nation. Joseon’s own cotton fabric is so excellent that demand may be low, but we brought it in case those who enjoy novel items might wish to purchase some.”
“Hm, hm. Very well. The goods themselves are innocent. Pass.”
It was essentially isolation, but if they themselves did not realize it, that was enough.
The Japanese merchants coaxed and soothed the KKK into the Waegwan, but unfortunately peace did not last long.
“Hey! Why are there no women here? Where’s the alcohol? The meat?”
“Damn it! Bring meat, not that stinking fish!”
It was practically inevitable that the KKK members, confined in the cramped Waegwan, would eventually grow bored and begin causing disturbances.
Grabbing Joseon merchants who entered the Waegwan by the collar was routine. They preached sermons to passersby, drank the liquor the merchants brought until they were thoroughly drunk, and then urinated on the walls. The Japanese merchants felt they were losing their minds.
“Please, I beg you to stay still! If you go outside, you’ll lose your heads!”
“Shut up! Who do you think you’re ordering around? We are executives of the Invisible Empire!”
“If any wretch dares to challenge us without knowing his place, we simply shoot him. What is there to fear?”
Having already tasted great success in Japan, Forrest and his Dragon friends now feared nothing.
After all, how could mere monkeys possibly control the path taken by men?
They took advantage of a lapse in surveillance and boldly crossed the Waegwan’s boundary.
“Oho! Behold! That beautiful scenery!”
Dongrae Market.
People coming and going were all dressed in white clothes and wearing traditional hats, walking peacefully.
Those who saw the scene realized once more:
“As expected, our prediction was correct. They have been waiting for us! We must step forward and lead them!”
“Brothers! We have arrived! Accept the great civilization of the white man!”
The giants in white hoods ran through the center of the market, shouting and trying to embrace Joseon civilians.
“Aaaagh! What is that?!”
“The mourner has gone mad! The crazy mourner is biting people!”
The market instantly descended into pandemonium. Fortunately, officials quickly mobilized and prevented it from turning into a major incident.
“Good grief… I’m going insane. Just why did these Western bastards come here?”
The officials had rushed over fearing secret missionary work, but the intruders had simply run around in white clothes shouting. They were neither proselytizing nor looting graves.
Had they been doing either, the officials and constables would have shown them the stern majesty of national law without hesitation. Yet these men seemed so bizarre and insignificant that one could only suspect they were genuinely insane.
It is never easy to raise a fist against someone who appears truly feeble-minded no matter how rude they are.
In the end, news of the foolish Westerners wearing white funerary clothes reached Hanyang with unusual speed.
January 31, 1864 by the solar calendar.
It had been ten days since King Cheoljong of Joseon had passed away and a new monarch had ascended the throne.
Few people knew it, and I had not known it either, but from the mid-19th century onward the United States had been clearly aware of a country called Joseon.
Joseon had probably heard about the country called America through Qing, but the United States had gone a step further. In the 1840s there had even been discussions about opening both Japan and Joseon together.
Of course, the resolution submitted by Senator Pratt had been discarded without proper debate because America had been eyeing Texas at the time. But circumstances had changed.
America had already swallowed Texas, secured a firm stake in Qing, and succeeded in driving a stake into Japan as well.
I learned this fact because,
“So, at present we wish to raise our influence in Asia even a little further. With Europe unable to intervene easily due to its own problems, now is the perfect opportunity, is it not?”
The current head of the State Department had kindly explained the situation himself.
The war had ended sooner than expected, and the surplus energy was itching to be released outward. Both Qing and Japan had been handled more easily than anticipated.
So those who had been looking around for somewhere else to sink their teeth into had remembered the name Joseon that I had casually mentioned during my last briefing.
When they investigated, they discovered the astonishing coincidence that a congressman had already advocated opening both Joseon and Japan twenty years earlier.
I had already thrown the world’s greatest idiots onto that land, yet the White House had been harboring similar plans.
“We are currently looking for Asia specialists, but unfortunately most of those who claim to know Asia well turn out to be swindlers not worth speaking to. Still, I believe you are different, which is why I asked you to come to Washington once more.”
“It is true that I know Asia well, but in reality Joseon is not a land worth the United States bothering with at this time.”
It was so miserably poor that even for me it was barely a snack. If America stuck a straw into it, I could guarantee nothing but losses would result.
They said more gold was buried in Joseon than expected, so perhaps stripping it all away might be worthwhile, but that would only be a one-time gain.
I cautiously sounded out the administration’s level of commitment, and Seward’s attitude proved unexpectedly firm.
“This is not about managing colonies or seeking enormous profits. Nearly every European nation is currently competing fiercely to extract even a little more interest from Qing. If we can secure both Japan and Joseon in advance, would they not serve as an excellent bridgehead from which our United States could expand across all of Asia in the future?”
It was a thought worthy of America’s greatest imperialist, the man who had awakened the Anglo-Saxon blood more deeply than anyone.
And purely from the perspective of American interests, his judgment was not wrong.
For the United States, which aimed to complete its Pacific Empire, holding both Joseon and Japan firmly was the best course.
This side could project influence onto the continent at will, while the continent could not come out into the Pacific.
When Seward added that he even planned to purchase Alaska, I could clearly guess how far his vision extended.
In that case, this man could indeed become an excellent business partner.
“If that is what you believe, Mr. Secretary, there is one piece of information I should share with you…”
“Oh, as expected of an Asia specialist. If there is anything I have overlooked, please tell me.”
“It appears the KKK, known as the heroes of the South, have gone to that land of Joseon.”
“···You mean the ones who call themselves the White Knights?”
Seward wore a satisfied smile.
Having achieved some results in Japan, he seemed to expect they would produce similarly sweet outcomes in Joseon.
“It seems God truly intends to establish our United States as the master of the Pacific.”
I simply nodded as if I knew nothing.
After all, a surprise gift is always more enjoyable when received in complete ignorance.
Even if the result differed from expectations, it probably would not turn his stomach too badly.
Probably.