II JOURNEY TO
THE DIAMOND MOUNTAIN. (by Yi
Chung-kwi (李廷龜) 1603 A.D.
(1564-1635 A.D.) (Biographical Note:— Yi Chung-kwi, a
famous literary
master of Korea, was born in the same year as
Shakespeare, though he outlived
the English Sage by 19 years. He is one of the
greatest of the literati, and
has left a long list of recorded works. He made the
trip to the Diamond
Mountains when he was 39 years of age. Unfortunately
his trip was not as
complete as one could have wished. J. S. G.) When I was young I visited many of the
hills of my
native country but had never seen the Eight Sights of
the East Coast. Now, with
responsible office on hand, and years of experience
back of me, I had less and
less freedom to come and go; and all my plans, more
than once, for such a trip,
had come to naught. In the year ke-myo
(1603), however, repairs were made on the Tomb of
T’ai-jo’s mother in
Ham-heung, and it was customary on such occasions for
one of the highest
officials of the Office of Ceremony to see to the work
and report. I was at the
time head of this office and it naturally fell to me,
though His Majesty had
not yet signified His approval. My special desire for
going was that on my
return I might come by way of An-pyun. and see the
Diamond Mountains. On the 1st day of the 8th moon I paid my
respects to
the Court, and asked permission to resign all
subsidiary offices, but this
request was refused. Some of the ministers said, “How
can any one in charge of
the Office of Ceremony make so great a journey?” Thus
the matter hung fire for
some days but I repeated my request so urgently that
permission was finally
given. Han Suk-pong was at that time the
magistrate of Hyup-gok,
and he happened to be in Seoul. He joined our party
and we moved outside the
East Gate, where we put up for the night. I did not take any household servants
with me except a
skilled flautist, whose name was Han Moo-soi. My
remarks to Han Suk-pong were
something like this: “This journey is by the good favour of
God, and here I
have the master of Hyup-gok for my companion. Another
piece of great good luck
is the fact that Ch’oi Rip is the magistrate of
Kan-sung. If he hears that I am
coming he will assuredly plan for a meeting. We shall
enter the mountains of
the fairy together, such a happy pilgrimage will be
ours as mortals seldom see.
In fifteen days or so I shall finish all I have to do
in Ham-heung, and return,
while you go ahead and await my coming.” Suk-pong replied, “My good fortune is
that I am a
member of Your Excellency’s party where we are to make
the journey together. We
shall behold the world of the fairy, write down our
impressions, and have
something worth remembering superior even to our trip
to Japan. We reached the post-station, Sin-an, ana
there the
station-master pointed out a road to the right that
leads east and crosses the
Hair-cut Pass, a hundred li distant
(Tan-pal). Hearing this my joy was full to
overflowing. We waited for some
little time so I wrote a poem and sang it while
Moo-soi accompanied me on the
flute.
Passing on we reached Hoi-yang. The
magistrate, Han
Soo-min, brought me sool and
cheered
us on our way. This drink and other refreshments were
most excellent in
flavour. I wrote a poem here and pasted it upon the
wall of the room. Later 1
included it among my collected works. On the 11th day we reached Ham-heung and
by the 15th I
had finished the work that I had come to do. On the 17th I bade farewell and came as
far as Yung-
heung. On the 18th I was overtaken by a fast courier
from the north carrying
official despatches. Word was that Manchu barbarians,
several hundred horsemen
of them, had crossed the border and surrounded the
town of Chung-sung, that the
magistrate, Chung Si-whoi, was taken prisoner, but
whether dead or alive no one
knew. I was greatly perturbed by this, in fact knocked
clear off my feet. On the 22nd day I reached An-pyun. Here
the magistrate
Nam Cha-yoo, had a feast prepared in the Ke-tang Hall,
his brother and sons
being present The next day he urged me to remain
still, saying that the day
following was his mother’s birthday, so 1 waited two
days in all. I hoped also
for news from the north. These northern barbarians, not being in
any great
force were expected soon to retire. We waited at
An-pyun and bent our ears to
hear, till word came that matters were gradually growing
worse and all the people were in a great state of
excitement. When I left Seoul I had not resigned my
connection
with the War Office, and so I felt that it would be
unworthy of me to leave the
country to its fate and go off for pleasure. I
therefore wrote a note to the
different magistrates excusing myself and started for
Seoul on the 25th, by the
main road, crossing the Ch’ul Yung Pass that day. The
plan that I had cherished
for years, with all its delightful anticipations, had
fallen through. As I
mounted the hill and looked off toward the land of the
fairy, my heart was as
much disturbed as though I had lost my choicest
treasure. We arrived about the Sin hour (4 P.M.) at
the Hoi-yang
River when suddenly there came a courier from the
north at full speed with word
that the invaders had retired across the border, and
were gone. Now my regrets
were that I had not waited at An-pyun. By evening I reached Hoi-yang. The
magistrate was not
there but off in the hills awaiting my arrival. I went
into the vacant guest-room,
sat down ana inquired as to how far it was to the
Diamond Mountains. The secretary replied that it was 180 li by way of
Wha-chun and 160 by way of
T’ong-koo, but that the T’ong-koo road was very rough.
I then called my
assistant and remarked that the Creator (Cho-mool
Choo) was evidently jealous of me, and that the
devils (ma)
had blocked my way. “This” said I, “is
really the saddest thing I have ever known. If I fail
of my wish and have to go
back to the dust and worry of the Capital, I shall be
filled with resentment
even to the Yellow Shades. Now, however, that the
invaders have made off, there
is no need for me to specially hasten back. A few
days, more or less, will make
no difference. Let me look the inner mountains over
and find for my pent up
wishes some measure of fulfilment.” My joys awoke again and I scarcely slept
a wink.
Before cock-crow I had the horses fed, and was ready
to be off, hoping to make
the journey in one day. I asked Yi Hyung-wun if he
could follow me. Yi said, “Though
somewhat difficult, I’ll try.” I summoned the people of the office and
ordered them
to make ready three days food, each man to carry his
own portion. By the fourth
watch of the night, all having been put in readiness,
we were off and soon
reached Sin-an, 40 li. Even yet
the
night was deep upon us. This is the place where we had
inquired about the road
on our way out. We were resting for a little to feed the
horses, when
suddenly six or seven officials made their appearance
and came forward to greet
me. I asked who they were, and they informed me that
they were from Kan-sung, T’ong-ch’un
and Hyup-gok sent by Ch’oi Rip, An Kyung-yong and Han
Kyung-hong. They had
heard of my going back by direct route to Seoul, and
in their disappointment
had sent letters and expressions of regret by these
men, as well as
refreshments to cheer me. Among them was a special letter from Han
Kyung-hong
which said. “The Elders of the country of Hyup-gok,
grateful for all your many
favours, had prepared food and wine and made straight
the way. Hearing,
however, that you were returning direct to Seoul,
greatly disappointed and
distressed, they have dispersed.” The reason for this kind thought on their
part was
that in the year kyung-ja
(1600),
when I was Minister of Finance, I had done a small
favour in their behalf. The
people of Hyup-gok had memorialized the State asking
that their taxes be
lessened. I felt sympathy for them, as their county
had fallen somewhat in the
scale of prosperity, and so passed their request on to
the King. This was the
reason of their gratitude. These old men, with worn
caps and white hair, had
come all the way to bring their offerings of food and
wine, a grateful gift
that gladdened my heart. I had the wine and other
things carried along so that
I could enjoy them in the hills. Leaving my chair at the magistrate’s
office at Sin-an
I took two specially good horses for exchanges on my
hasty journey. Only three
persons accompanied me, Han Moo-soi the
musician, one secretary, Chang Eung-sun, and my
artist, Pyo Eung-hyun. Thirty li from
Sin-an we reached T’ong-koo, when the sun was just
nicely up. It was a most
secluded place with the charming surroundings of hill
and valley. From here the
road winds on through thick woods and along steep
defiles. In some places we
had to cut the grass and shrubs that blocked the way,
till finally we reached
the Hair-cut Pass. Here, all of a sudden, a wonderful
view of the horns and
peaks of the Diamond Mountains met us. My hair stood
on end and I felt a creepy
sensation pass over my body. The saying is that once
upon a time a certain king
came this way and being so impressed with the view he
had his hair cut and
joined the brotherhood of priests, hence comes its
name, Hair-cut Pass (Tan-pal
Yung). From Sin-an to this point is a hundred li, hills,
range on range, and wall on
wall, blocking the way. Now that I was in full view of
the object of my journey
how strange it seemed. When we had crossed the Chin Hill and
passed a river
flat, we reached the valley of Chang-an along which
the water rashes fresh and
clear, the hills about, different, seemingly, from the
ordinary haunts of men.
This stream in its marvellous course comes down
through the Myriad Cascade
Gorge. We crossed it nine times and finally reached
the temple. I called on
Moo-soi to play me a tune as we rode along the avenue
of approach. An old priest met us and showed me into
the Hall of
Meditation. “Whence come these honoured guests?”
asked he. I did not answer him directly but said,
“I am a
literary man from Seoul. Are there any other guests
here?” He said, A few days ago several gentlemen
came
announcing that the Minister of Ceremony would stop on
his way from Ham-heung.
They waited for a time, but learning that he had
returned direct to the
Capital, they left. Hearing this, I smiled. We had ‘wine’ brought that quenched our
thirst and
then we turned in and rested for a time. The priests, inquiring of the runners
from the post-stations,
as to who this was, found out my name. At once they
all came to make their most
profound bow, saying, “We have made a most
unpardonable mistake. But we really
cannot understand by what way Your Excellency has
come.” I then told them,
fully of our midnight trip. They said in reply, “But
the road from here to
Hoi-yang is a two day’s journey, and you have made it
in one. As we were talking, a young priest came
hurrying up to
say that guests had arrived. I asked who they were and he said, “The
Vice-governor
of Kang-wan, and the Keeper of the Royal Stables from
Eun- ke. They are now in
the upper monastery of Pyo-hoon some five li
from here.” I called the lad and told him to go at
once and say
that I had arrived. It was then about the first watch
of the night The Vice-governor was Yoon Kil, and the
Keeper of the
Stables, Yi Yu-keun. Along with them was No Sung,
Guardian of the Chip-kyung
Palace. They had waited for me at Hyup-gok, but
hearing that I had gone direct
to Seoul, had decided to see the Hills for themselves. Finding out from the priest how matters
stood, they
gave a great shout of surprise, thoroughly mystified,
and came tumbling over
each other all the way to Chang-an-sa. They bowed and
asked, “Did Your
Excellency come by way of the starry sky?” They then
inquired as to my health
and safe arrival. I
opened our supplies
and had something prepared for them to eat, while they
asked further about the
journey. They remarked regarding the fare, “This is
very good indeed but there
is abundance ready at each place specially for you,
why dine off these cold
things?” In a little others came from other
counties with
quantities of good things for my health and comfort
and so the night passed. The fast fading moon had risen in the
east. Under the influence
of ‘wine,’ I went out and sat in the Moonlight
Pavilion. The night was silent,
and soft shadows filled the valley. As I looked up the
mountain peaks stood
white in the distance leaning over us. To the north
was Kwan-eum, next
Chi-jang, next Po-hyun. We slept in the east room, where was also
a priest
named Tam-yoo, over 80 years of age. His eyes sparkled
with peculiar light, and
his eye-brows stood out white as over the luminaries
of the genii. He told me
all about the past history of the temple. The following day, early in the morning,
I got up,
dressed, walked out and climbed the hill back of the
Main Hall. The peaks in
front of me glistened in my sight like gems. I
wondered if snow had fallen, but
looking more carefully I saw it was only the rocks. Hastening through my morning meal, and
carrying a
light load, I rode a chair up through the gorge of the
Ten Kings. Great
boulders locked and barred the way. A few diminutive
bamboos were seen, while
pines and cypress grew about the pools and rushing
water. One peak to the north
shot up its form so far toward heaven that we could
scarcely glimpse it. This
was Chi-jang that I had seen in the night. Passing one defile we would come to
another, and
beyond one gorge still another would await us. In each
was a rushing stream,
falls and pools. We rested for a time at Mi-ta Temple and
then
descended to the Myung-yun Tam. From here on, the way is full of
dangerous defiles
over which flimsy bridges have been thrown. We left
the chair and, with staff
in hand, made our precarious way step by step clinging
to the rocks and jumping
over rapids. The streams fought furiously in their
narrow courses, and when a
rock blocked the way would leap forward in a fall. The
hollow basin underneath
becomes the pool. These pools are called by various
names, Alms-bowl (Pal-tam),
Fire Dragon (Wha-ryong), Black Dragon, (Heuk Ryong),
Blue Clouds (Pyukha), etc. The gorge itself is called Myriad
Cascade, or Man-p’ok
Tong. Its course is a great cleft driven
through the rocks.
By this time I was tired almost to death, and so found
a flat rock on which to
sit down. Here the Secretary brought us ‘wine’ and
refreshments and passed them
round. On a stone near by are the characters of Yang
Pong-nai: Pong-nai (蓬萊) Foong-ak (楓岳) Wun-wha (元和) Tong- ch’un (调天). Each stroke is as large as the leg of a
mountain deer.
To our left was the Diamond Peak (Keum-kang Tai), on
the top of which among the
stonee were the nests of the heron, empty however. The
priest said to us, “These
birds frequently come, but after circling about, cry
plaintively and then go
away.” Their feathers are blue and their heads red. I called Moo-soi and had him, unknown to
the others,
climb to a ledge of Hyang-no Peak, hide in the pines
and play to us. He played
a soft quavering tune that sounded very sweet as
though it came from the 9th
heaven. The assembled guests looked at each other in
wonder, listened and said,
“Does Your Excellency hear it?” I made as though I heard nothing, so they
all kept
perfectly still and said, “This is wonderful; the
music of the upper spheres.
Tradition holds that the fairies used to live here and
now we hear them play.” The sound was especially sweet and clear
and it did
really seem to come from the clouds. As the wind blew
it would cease and then
be heard again. I knew what it was, and yet I was
inclined, nevertheless, to
think the fairies were playing. After some time, the
group finally learning how
it had come about, clapped their hands and laughed,
saying, “Most interesting,
Ha, ha!” We were all made glad by the ‘wine’ and
enjoyed
ourselves till the day began to draw toward a close.
Then we followed the
stream back and when the shades of night had fallen
arrived at Pyo-hoon-sa. There is a stone by the gate of this
monastery that
was erected in the 4th year of Chi-wun (1338 A.D.).
The composition is by Yang
Chai, and the writing by a Minister of Koryu, Kwun
Han-kong. It tells how Yung
Chong, Emperor or the Mongols, had on his heart the
future blessing of all
mankind and gave money for this temple’s erection. Now
the Mongol court was
very ardently Buddhistic, so that Imperial orders
frequently made note of
prayers and gifts. For this reason temples were set up
in many of the hills of
Korea, this one being the largest of them all. It fell
a victim to the war of Im-jin
(1592) and was burned down. Since then the priests
have restored it but the
final touches are not yet given. At night we again drank to express our
joy. The day following we arose early and went
up to Chung-yang-sa.
This temple stands on the face of the hill with a
steep road leading to it.
Part of the time I rode, and part of time I went by
staff. We were a long
procession like fish on a willow string. To the west of the temple is a pavilion
called
Chin-heul Tai with great trees standing on each side
of it. The breeze awoke
and the cool air refreshed our very bones. We sat
long, drank several glasses
of ‘wine,’ and then descended to the temple. It was
vacant, no one apparently
being in charge. The pavilion to the west offers the
finest view of the Diamond
Mountains. We had the place swept out, spread our mats
and looked off over the
railing where we could see clearly all those peaks
that we had only glimpsed
before. One old priest said, “Because this hill
is related to
the sea it has many clouds and mists resting upon it,
as well as gossamer webs
and curtains of uncertainty. Sometimes sightseers wait
ten days at a time
without once seeing the shadow of a single peak. But
now the rains have ceased
and the hills are clear as a mirrior, with not an atom
of dust on the whole
horizon. It offers its most wonderful display to Your
Excellency. Its fair
prospect is one that every soul must long to see. The
autumn trees, too, are
intoxicated with colour, not too deep in shade, nor
too shallow, but just as
though freshly dyed. Such an opportunity as this is
afforded to but few. Your
Excellency is assuredly heir to unmixed blessing.” The old priest then came and sat down by
me and
pointed out the various peaks saying, “Yonder, that
one to the northeast,
standing highest of all, is Piro Pong; yonder sharp
one that stands alone is
Hyul-mang; that one with two horns, that seems to hold
up the firmament, is
Hyang-no; that wonderful rock, that must have been
split in two by the spirits,
is Keum-kang Tai. Yonder one that circles about and
gathers in all the
atmospheric influences is Choong-hyang.” Besides these
there were others that
looked like flying phoenixes, leaping dragons, seated
tigers, fighting whales.
Some of them are jumping, some running, some bowing
reverently as at audience. We went from here northwards up to the
ridge of the
hills and reached a temple called Kai-sim (Opening the
heart). Its site is a
little higher than that of Chung-yang, and most
retired. Passing Ch’un-tuk (Heaven’s Virtue), and
Wun-t’ong
(Rounded Temple) we came to Mahayun which, for
perfection of setting, ranks
first of all. The Incense Walls (Choong- hyang)
enclose the north so as to
guard its rear. On each side are red-wood trees,
pines, cypress, cedar, of
useless trees there seemed to be none. No birds are
here, no winged creatures
of any kind, no four-footed beasts. The priest said to
us, “Between the Incense
Walls and the temple there are no bugs, or reptiles,
or earthworms, or any
obnoxious creatures whatever.” We met a priest here undergoing a course
of
meditation, who ate only herbs, a very spiritual
person he seemed to be, and
one exceedingly loveable. We noticed a peculiar tree in front of
the temple that
had leaves like the sea-pine and bark like the cassia.
They called it the
ke-soo tree. Breaking off a little of the bark and
tasting it, I found it
peppery, but it was not specially sweet, a very
interesting tree indeed.
Another day having dawned we all dressed
and went, to
pay a visit to Pool-chi Am and Myo-kil Sang. Arriving
we found the place such a
delight that we hated to leave it. How inviting this
meditative life seemed
with its deliverance from the noisy world. I walked back
and forth in front of the great image. There was a
spring of water in a hollow
near by, that came bubbling forth. I tasted of it, and
it was as sweet as
sugared soy. We slept the night with the priests of
Mahayun. Amid the darkness
we could see the lights of other temples like
fireflies. The Great Dipper too,
seemed so near that I could almost put my hand out and
pluck it from the sky. Next day we set out for Po-tuk Cave by a
way along the
Incense Walls. Past the upper waters of the Fire
Dragon we followed a path that
led among the clouds. Where the road failed, logs were
placed over chasms. We
counted forty and more of these till finally on the
left hand, we saw a temple
of a few kan sitting on the rocks with two brazen
pillars underneath it It was
a hundred kil or so high and had a half kan projecting
over the abyss. In it
was an image of Kwannon. There were two chains holding
it, one fastened to a
pillar, and one round the house riveted to the rocks.
The temple itself hangs
seemingly in mid air. When the wind blows you might
think it would fall but it
does not. Such a place however seemed too dangerous to
stay long in. We went up to Po-tuk Outlook, poured out
‘wine’ and
had a drink. Looking from here we beheld a white cloud
rise from the Fire-Dragon
Pool like a whiff of smoke from a brazier. It rose and
then flattened out like
a mat. In a little, each different pool sent up its
cloud of silk that opened
out so gracefully. These caught by the currents of air
raced about, sometimes
uniting, sometimes separating till they filled all the
valley with the whitest
curtain of snow that you ever saw. Looking down, the
servants who accompanied
me were lost in wonder. We could hear people’s voices
through the mist but
could see no one. As we moved along we were bathed in the
full light of
the sun while the world beneath our feet was dark as
the regions of chaos.
Assuredly it was a sight to see. We passed various rocks and gorges filled
with wonder,
till my legs grew tired. Then I got into my chair and
rode, and by evening
arrived once more at Pyo-hoon where we slept. Many representatives from the different
district towns
had gathered with ‘wine’ and refreshments to greet me
and wish me well on my
way. I was terribly fatigued and so after a glass or
two retired to my room and
slept. On the 30th we put our baggage in order,
left
Pyo-hoon-sa for Chang-an and from here passed out of
the mountain gate. The
murmur of the stream seemed full of sadness and spoke
our regrets at parting. Wherever
I went I aways had my musician ride ahead so
that when I rested, or waited, he would play for me.
By noon we had reached
Tan-pal Yung (Hair Cut pass.) The Governor of the
Province, Yi Kwang-choon,
anxious to see me, had come hurrying along a hundred li or more so that we met on the Pass.
Here we sat on the grass and
talked of days gone by. His son Yi Min-whan had come
along with him. Wine was
brought and we drank a glass or two and then
separated. By evening we had
reached T’ong-koo where we slept, and from here on we
made our way back to Seoul.
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