In 1106 Suk-jong’s son U, posthumous title Ye-jong, came to the throne. At the very first he was confronted by a new problem. The people had yet to learn that the coinage of money is a purely government monopoly. The readiness with which cash circulated tempted some to attempt to counterfeit it. The king consequently promulgated a law inflicting a heavy penalty upon this offense and at the same time made a law against the adulteration of food.
Having, in his third year, married a near relative he took as a teacher a monk named Un-jin, another indication of the steady progress of that cult. The talk about the change of site for the capital resulted in the building of a palace at P‘yŭng-yang and several royal progresses to each of the proposed sites.
The tribe of Yŭ-jin had repeatedly promised to remain peaceful and had as often broken their word; so now when they began to grow restless again, the king decided to make an end of the matter. He sent a strong force into their territory, killed 4,800 men and took several thousand prisoners. The territory was divided into four administrative districts.
In 1115 the king developed a fad. He became an enthusiastic botanist. He ransacked the kingdom for rare and beautiful plants and sent them to China in exchange for many kinds that were not indigenous.
We have now arrived at the threshold of events which were destined to result in the founding of a great dynasty. In order to explain we must go back a few years. Early in this dynasty a Koryŭ monk from P‘yŭng-yang, named Keum-jun, had fled, for some reason not stated, to the town of A-ji-go among the Yŭ-jin tribe. He had there married a Yŭ-jin woman and gotten a son whom he named Ko-eul. He in turn begot Whal-ra, and to him were born many sons, the eldest of whom was Hyo-ri-bal and the second Yong-ga. The latter was unusually bright and popular and eventually became chief; but on his death the son of his brother Hyo-ri-bal, named O-a-sok, took his place. O-a-sok died and his younger brother, A-gol-t‘a, became chief. Yŭ-jin was at this time a small weak tribe under the sway of the Ki-tan court, but now the masterly genius of A-gol-t‘a had come to her help, matters were destined to assume a different complexion.
It was now in 1114 that the little tribe of Yŭ-jin broke off its allegiance to Kitan and prepared to carve out a career for herself under her great leader. Soon an envoy came in haste from the capital of Kitan commanding the king to stand ready to drive back the Yŭ-jin tribe if they attempted to escape into his territory, for the emperor of Kitan was about to chastise his recalcitrant vassal.
The next year A-gol-t‘a with sublime presumption proclaimed himself emperor and named his kingdom Kin. At the same time he changed his own name to Min.
The Kitan emperor sent again demanding a contingent of Koryŭ troops. After anxious consultation it was decided to keep the soldiers near home and guard the interests of Koryŭ. In the war between Kitan and Kin the former were severely handled and again appealed to Koryŭ for help, but now with no hope of success.
The next year, 1116, a Koryŭ envoy Yun Eun-sun was sent to the Kitan court but he did not return, so a second one was dispatched to learn the cause. The fact is, the first envoy had fallen into the hands of a new power named Wŭn which had been set up in eastern Kitan by a man named Ko Yöng-ch‘ang. War was still raging between Kitan and Kin and the whole country was in a state of turmoil and confusion. The second envoy from Koryŭ fell into the hands of the Wŭn people but got out of the difficulty by promptly stating that he was accredited to them by the king of Koryŭ; and he forthwith laid out his present. This made the upstart “emperor” of Wŭn wild with delight and, loading the envoy with rich presents, he sent him back home. Instead of going back to the king, however, the envoy returned secretly to his own home, and it was only by accident that the king learned of his return. When he did learn of it he sent for the man and inflicted summary punishment. Of course the Wŭn people liberated the other envoy and sent him home. Him also the king punished for having saved his life by seemingly offering allegiance to Wŭn.
The emperor of China sent an envoy to Koryŭ with gifts of musical instruments and took advantage of the occasion to ask the Koryŭ king about the Kitan people. The king answered, “Of all the savage tribes they are the worst.” When this reply reached the Chinese court some of the courtiers said that the king of Koryŭ was trying to keep China from knowing Kitan, since there was treasure there which Koryŭ wanted to secure for herself. The emperor therefore sent and made an alliance with Kitan, which, as the sequel shows, cost him dear.
Kitan was being hard pressed by Kin, and Gen. Ya Ryul-lyŭng wanted to escape and find asylum somewhere, so the king sent him a verbal invitation to come to Koryŭ. He replied that he could not do so without a written invitation. The Koryŭ statesmen feared that this covered some kind of trickery and the written invitation was not sent.
Koryŭ desired to put out a feeler to see how she stood with the Kin power so she sent a message saying “The district of P‘o-ju is rightfully Koryŭ territory and we should be pleased to have it turned over to us.” The answer was given without an hour’s delay “Certainly, take it and do with it as you wish.” Evidently the great Kin leader did not intend to let a single district stand between him and the good-will of a power which might cause him serious trouble while he was prosecuting his designs upon China.
The year ended with a great feast at the capital of Koryŭ at which dancing girls from all parts of the country congregated. The records say that they came “in clouds” which indicates the social status of the country. Buddhism had her representative in every home, but no severe asceticism would seem to have characterized the people, if this report is true.
The year 1117 beheld repeated triumphs of the Kin leader over the Kitan forces, the flight of the Kitan general Ya Ryul-lyŭng by boat, the burning of the Kitan fleet and the cession to Koryŭ of two more districts, thus placing her border again at the Yalu River. But this concession was of design for it was followed by a letter from the Kin court which read as follows: “The elder brother, the Emperor of the Great Kin, to the younger brother, the king of Koryŭ; we were a small, weak tribe and were badly treated by the Kitan power but now we are about to destroy it. The King of Koryŭ must now make with us a firm treaty which shall be binding to the ten thousandth generation.”
This met with an almost universal negative among the wise-heads of Koryŭ, but one voice was heard saying “They may be in a position to do us great harm and we should comply with this demand.” The latter opinion did not prevail. Three years later another envoy came from the king of Kin with gifts but the accompanying letter was couched in low language which was construed into an insult and was answered in the same tone. The king then hastened to repair the fortresses in the north and to increase the height of the wall stretching across the country; but the Kin emperor sent and forbade it. When he received as answer the question “What affair is it of yours?” he kept his temper and did not press the demand for he was anxious just then to be on good terms with his southern neighbor.
We must not imagine that these years were barren of events of importance within the bounds of Koryŭ herself. Splendid monasteries were built, notably the beautiful An-wha monastery; embassies and gifts were received from China; the king made trips to P‘yŭng-yang and Han-yang. In spite of the height to which Buddhism had climbed, we read in the annals that the king frequented the society of dancing girls to such an extent that he drew down upon himself the censure of one of his highest officials, whom he consequently banished.
In 1123 the king’s son Hă, posthumous title In-jong, came to the throne. An official, Yi Ja-gyŭm, who had risen to the highest position under the former king seemed to think himself in a sense on an equality with the young king now on the throne, and wanted to have him bow to him, but the other officials interfered and prevented it. In order to make his position the more secure, and to strengthen his influence over the king, Yi Ja-gyŭm bestowed upon him his four daughters to wife. Naturally he incurred the bitter enmity of the other officials, who sought means for destroying him, but without success. As a last resort they sent a band of soldiers to the palace to kill him. But he escaped to his private house, taking the king with him. From that place he governed the land as he wished. Finding the king an incumbrance he tried to do away with him by the use of poisoned bread, but someone warned