Unsurprisingly, his diaries have only occasional references to his patients, but his medical reports to the Customs Department provide a wealth of information ― not all of it positive and most of it very heavily opinionated. Allen boasted that his hospital "speedily became popular" and he normally treated between 60 and 100 patients daily. Allen and his small staff found themselves inundated with people seeking medical relief. It is interesting to note this annotation in Allen's diary in which he states that foreign contributions were "limited in amount so as not to shame the poor but sensitive Coreans."Ī water carrier and his product in the early 20th century Courtesy of Diane Nars Collectionīy mid-April, the hospital, newly named Chejungwon, was completed. The hospital was to be supported not just by the Korean government, but also influential Koreans and the small number of foreigners residing in Seoul and Jemulpo (modern Incheon). The building has been entirely looted even to the doors, window, stoves, paper, and parts of the walls." "In one of his rooms, the floor is all gory and thick with blood probably from his family who were murdered there. Allen's description of the building's state was horrific: In late February 1885, Allen established Gwanghyewon, the first Western hospital, in the house once occupied by Hong Yong-sik ― one of the victims of the Gapsin Coup attempt the previous December. His diary is peppered with examples of him violently losing his temper and the remorseful expressions afterward. Allen was not shy about using physical coercion to achieve his goals. More striking than his appearance were his notorious impatience and quick temper. He was a giant ― standing over six feet tall ― with a bushy red beard and receding hairline. One can imagine Allen's appearance in the streets of Seoul generated a great deal of interest. He was promptly appointed as "physician to the legation with no salary." But Allen was convinced he would be able to make ends meet by tending to the handful of foreign diplomats, advisers and merchants.Ī view of the East Gate of Seoul in the late 19th or early 20th century Robert Neff Collection American Minister to Korea Lucius Foote (a "handsome old politician … in his declining years") was impressed with the 26-year-old Allen who, unlike an earlier missionary, did not impose upon the legation for accommodation but instead "ate 'dog meat and rice' at a native inn." In his diary, Allen described Lucius Foote and his wife Rose as "a handsome and elegant elderly couple" who were in "great need" of a doctor residing near them. He came to Korea not so much as a missionary to save immortal souls but as a physician to save mortal lives ― and perhaps make a buck or two. Allen, a missionary physician, was more than aware of the dangers he and his family faced but he felt compelled to answer his calling. The peninsula was also gripped with a degree of political instability as evidenced by a bloody coup in 1882. Christianity was still barely tolerated there was animosity and mistrust towards foreigners fueled by the brief and violent encounters with foreign nations ― France in 1866, the USA in 1871 and Japan in 1875. Commonly referred to as "The Hermit Kingdom," the peninsula was in the vortex of change. It was especially not for missionaries lacking conviction and courage. In the summer of 1884, Korea was not a place for casual tourists or globetrotters seeking to impress their peers. A pharmacy in Seoul in 1884 Robert Neff Collection
0 Comments
Leave a Reply. |