It was of Yi-Sun Sin, the Korean genius of naval strategy and tactics, and the inventor of the first ironclad warship, that Admiral Ballard, the English naval historian, wrote,
It is always difficult for an Englishman to admit that Nelson ever had an equal in his profession, but if any man is to be so regarded it is surely this great naval commander of Asiatic race who never knew defeat ... of whose movements a track chart might be compiled from the wrecks of hundreds of Japanese ships lying with their crews at the bottom of the sea.
History (and particularly Japanese history) mentions Yi-Sun but little. Somewhat more is known of his Japanese adversary, the Shogun Hideyoshi, who rose from a stable hoy to become, by 1580, the most powerful Person in Nippon. Like his present-day brethren, Hideyoshi was ambitious for conquest and cast his covetous eyes toward Korea and China. In 1592 his preparations for invasion were completed, his fleet ready, and his first attempt at Japanese “protection” of what might have been then termed the “Greater East Asia Co-prosperity Sphere” was begun.
However, the Korean Admiral Yi-Sun Sin had heard rumors of these preparations and Hid plans to forestall the aggression he expected. He secretly designed and built a ship far superior to any then known in the Orient. The hull was faired for great speed under sail and oars and a powerful ram was built into the stem. Archery ports were pierced at every vantage point and the upper deck was covered with a turtleback of iron plates, studded with spikes. The ship was impervious to either fire arrows or boarding parties, and could out-maneuver any ship sent against her. Her odd appearance gave her the name Tortoise Boat, but she was the “Dreadnought” of her day, the world’s first ironclad Warship.
But only a few tortoise boats had been completed when Hideyoshi was ready to move. As he had decided to take Korea as a preliminary to China, he sent a bombastic letter to the Korean King, announcing that China was to be added to the Land of the Rising Sun and concluding with these words:
“I hope that Korea will be my vanguard. Let her not fail to do so, for my friendship for your honorable nation depends on your conduct when I lead my armies against China.”
The so-called “war of nerves” was old even then!
Korea was then under the friendly protection of China. The Korean King refused Hideyoshi’s demand for transit of his armies across Korea, notified the Ming Emperor, and prepared for war. Since the Shogun had anticipated this refusal, he had already embarked his armies and his commanders had orders to proceed according to plan even before the envoys had returned with the Korean answer. There is nothing new under the Rising Sun!
The plans for the Korean campaign were brilliantly simple. Hideyoshi, prevented by poor health from taking personal command, appointed Generals Konishi and Kato to lead the main force of 200,000 men. They were to effect a landing on the southern coast, establish a base of operations, and sweep across the length of Korea. A reserve force of 100,000 men, based at Nagoya, was then to be sent overseas to join the main body at Pen-Yang, near the Chinese frontier. A small force was to be left to guard the line of communications, and the reinforced army was to proceed to the conquest of the Flowery Kingdom. Unfortunately for Hideyoshi, his plans assumed, but did not assure, the control of the sea.
The initial operations went off as planned. A landing was made near the important coastal fortress of Fusan, which was taken after a fierce but short-lived defense. From this base the invaders swept across Korea like a tidal wave, their musketry proving an overwhelming advantage against the stubborn but poorly equipped Koreans. In two weeks Konishi and Kato had taken Seoul the capital, forced the King and court to flee for their lives, and overrun nearly the entire peninsula. The successful army halted at Peng-Yang to await the expected reinforcements before moving on to China. Although they had suffered somewhat from constant guerrilla warfare and from the Korean invention and use of the hand grenade, they occupied a strong position and their morale was excellent.
At this point, however, the Koreans took control of the sea and the invading army found itself immobilized.
At the outbreak of the war Korea had two small coastal defense squadrons; one off the southern coast under Won Kyun, and another, which included the tortoise boats, off the western coast under Yi-Sun Sin. When the first Japanese Fleet appeared Won Kyun was terrified and fled. Only the insistence of an aide that he send to Yi-Sun for help prevented him from beaching and abandoning his ships. Yi-Sun received this call after the Japanese landing had been effected, but sailed immediately to join Won Kyun.
When the two squadrons had joined, the Koreans set out under the able and energetic command of Yi-Sun Sin. They found some outlying Jap ships off Okpo and descended upon them, the “Tortoise Boats” eager to experience their first test under fire. Their example so inspired the other captains that they followed and attacked with equal ferocity. The Japanese ships were thrown into confusion and 27 of them were burned by Korean fire arrows.
The victorious Koreans pressed on to the eastward and found another small enemy squadron anchored off No-Ryang. Again the tortoise boats led the attack and the Japanese were handled in the same manner as at Okpo. Several ships slipped their cables in an endeavor to escape but were quickly overhauled and sunk by the faster Koreans. Yi-Sun was wounded by a musket ball in this action but refused to be treated until assured of the complete destruction of the enemy. Not a single ship escaped his wrath.
Despite having fought two battles during the day, the Korean fleet continued eastward through the night, using sail as much as possible to rest the oarsmen for the morrow. Early in the morning the expected Japanese fleet appeared over the horizon, bringing 60,000 reinforcements for Generals Konishi and Kato. The Koreans, fired with enthusiasm by their victories of the previous day, ignored the overwhelming odds against them and smashed into the enemy fleet. All day long the battle raged, but the invincible tortoise boats filled the enemy with panic and the skill and daring of the Koreans did the rest. By nightfall the entire fleet had been destroyed, with not a single survivor to carry the message of defeat.
Yi-Sun Sin then stationed his fleet across the main sea route used by the Japanese to await developments. He was not long in waiting, for on the third morning an approaching convoy was sighted. This time Ti-Sun varied his tactics. He deployed his fleet in two divergent lines, “like a fish trap,” as he explained it, and enveloped the enemy. The Japanese fighting ships in the van were no match for the Korean tortoise boats and were quickly sunk. The transports and supply ships were rapidly caught and destroyed in a general chase by the faster Koreans. Once again Yi-Sun’s small fleet had completely wiped out a much larger one. The victors sent home 200 Japanese heads to celebrate their triumphs and to avenge the atrocities inflicted on Koreans by the invading army.
Ti-Sun Sin now halted his furious pace to consider the situation and to rest his weary crews. After his four victories he had undisputed control of the sea and dominated the enemy’s lines of communication and supply. The Japanese armies in Korea were cut off from the south at the moment when they were eagerly awaiting the arrival of the reserve divisions for the invasion and conquest °f China. A lesser man might have been content with these successes and remained in those waters to await further prey, but Yi- Sun was not content to wait idly while enemy ships were at sea and enemy troops occupied his homeland. He believed that Hideyoshi would abandon the southern route after his defeats there and send any further reinforcements up the western coast. Accordingly he slipped off with his fleet to a watching point near the islands southwest of Korea, where his scouts could sight any approaching ships and he could move quickly in either direction to intercept them. By his reasoning and actions Yi-Sun was in position to block the remainder of Hideyoshi’s original plan, to which the Shogun had blindly adhered.
The Japanese reserve divisions at Nagoya were embarked and ordered up the western coast, and at dawn on July 9, 1592, Yi-Sun Sin sighted an immense armada and immediately put out to offer battle. The wily Korean admiral feigned fear of the great numbers against him and retreated against the wind, m line abreast, under oars alone. Speed was reduced to avoid tiring the oarsmen and to entice the Japanese into a reckless pursuit, while the deck crews ran about in apparent confusion to further the Japanese enthusiasm. By the time the leading pursuers were close aboard, the remainder of the enemy ships were strung out in a long line from their main body, and their oarsmen were nearing exhaustion. Then Yi-Sun showed his mettle; he ordered his ships to turn simultaneously, set sail, and sweep down on the bewildered Japanese with all possible speed. The hunted had become the hunters!
The leading Japanese ships were sunk or set afire before their crews had recovered their wits. The others tried to turn back on the main body of the fleet, but the faster tortoise boats overhauled and destroyed them. One after another the scattered enemy ships were taken until the Koreans came up to the main body of the great enemy armada, which was then in utter confusion. The comparative freshness of the Korean oarsmen, with the help of the favoring wind, enabled Yi- Sun’s ships to sweep completely around the remaining Japanese and herd them into a mass of terror-stricken ships, each in the way of the other. A cloud of fire arrows was rained on them, and many were burned and sunk. Before the destruction could be completed, a second enemy squadron hove into view. The tortoise boats turned to meet the new foe. Fifty ships of the squadron were accounted for in the first few minutes of the fight, the remainder scattered and fled. The Koreans gave chase through the rest of the day until every Japanese ship had either been sunk or driven ashore. The entire convoy was annihilated and not a single survivor escaped the fury of the Koreans.
By this unbroken series of victories, Yi-Sun Sin had, in the short space of six weeks, destroyed the Japanese sea power and applied a death grip on the Japanese armies in Korea by cutting them off from all supplies and reinforcements. The invaders were thrown on the defensive and forced to retreat to the coast under greatly adverse conditions in order to save themselves from the fate of their fleets. The inspired Koreans arose from their hiding places, united with the promised Chinese army which had just arrived, and drove the Japanese back to Fusan almost as rapidly as they had advanced from there. Less than half of the once-conquering army survived the retreat, and the survivors were immediately besieged in their coastal fortress. Hideyoshi was forced to sue for peace and to realize that his lightning war had failed utterly.
The treaty of peace provided for the withdrawal of all Japanese troops from Korean soil and a pledge of no further aggression against either Korea or China. Hideyoshi sent peace offerings to the rulers of both countries to bind the treaty, but with the usual Japanese honesty he had no intention of keeping it. On one pretext and another he delayed the embarkation of his troops from Fusan, and even managed to reinforce the garrison there. Having underestimated the Korean sea power in 1592, Hideyoshi resolved not to make the same mistake as he planned for a second invasion. From the day his envoys returned with the peace treaty, his shipbuilders were busy with the construction of the greatest fleet yet seen in the Orient, and a great army was put under training for the coming war. To make certain that his fleet would control the sea, Hideyoshi laid a cunning trap for the elimination of Yi-Sun Sin.
By means of spies, fifth columnists, and political deals with a minority faction of Koreans, he succeeded in having Yi-Sun relieved of command; and Won Kyun, who had shown himself so incompetent at the first sea battle of the war, was made admiral of the Korean Fleet.
Won Kyun was an utterly worthless commander. He lived a corrupt and dissolute life and was as detested by his men as Yi-Sun had been loved. He gloried in the pomp and title of his office, but refused to shoulder any of the responsibility. He never took his ships to sea for training as Yi-Sun had done, and the Navy soon fell into a condition of inefficiency and decay. The great fighting fleet that Yi-Sun had built was completely ruined in a year under his successor. Korea was defenseless on the sea. Hideyoshi’s plan had worked perfectly.
In the spring of 1596 Hideyoshi was ready for a second invasion. As an excuse, the Shogun claimed that the latest diplomatic message from Korea had assumed the submission of Japan, and he intended to punish the Koreans for impeding good relations between Korea and Japan unless they yielded to Japanese domination of Korea immediately. Again his fleet was at sea before the Korean refusal was received. Again the technique is familiar.
Won Kyun was ordered to intercept and destroy the enemy at sea, but he had no stomach for the fight even had his fleet been prepared. The Japanese had landed their Army and taken their initial positions before he realized that he had to make an attack or lose his head for his failure. His feeble attack was beaten off with great losses to the Koreans, and the surviving ships fled to the shelter of the southwest islands, pursued by the Japanese. Won Kyun’s flagship led the retreat. His ships had been so poorly maintained they they sailed without sufficient water aboard; on reaching harbor the thirsty crews rushed ashore for drink. The Japanese arrived in time to catch most of the ships hauled out and destroyed them on the beach, but a few, including Won Kyun’s flagship, again escaped and managed to reach their original anchorage.
The King had a representative waiting there with orders for Won Kyun to be flogged upon his own quarter-deck for his ignominious failure. The punishment served the opposite purpose, for Won Kyun set out to drown his humiliation in drink. His officers and men followed his example. A sudden Japanese attack drove all the remaining Korean ships on the beach where they were burned, while the remnants of their crews fled overland. Won Kyun, fat and tired from his long years of dissipation, paused to rest under a tree where he was caught and beheaded by a Japanese patrol. So ended the Korean sea power.
The situation was now reversed from that of four years before. The Japanese had complete control of the sea and could come and go as they pleased with an endless line of supplies and reinforcements. Early successes along the coast filled the invaders with confidence. They captured the great fortress of Namwon, where the entire garrison was put to the sword. The three thousand ears of the victims were sent home to Japan and made into the famous “ear monument” at Kyoto.
Suddenly the resistance stiffened. Hideyoshi had eliminated the sea power which had defeated him before, but had this time underestimated the strength of the combined Chinese and Korean forces, led by the ablest of the Ming generals. The land campaign did not fare so well.
The Japanese advance was slowed and halted short of Seoul by the pitched battle of Chik-San in the early fall of 1596. Konishi, the Japanese general, was held there, while the Korean and Chinese guerrillas harassed him constantly. He could see no possibility of taking Seoul and wintering there, he had neither provisions nor clothing for wintering in the open, and his lines of communication with the coastal bases were being cut by the hostile armies. He realized that if he remained in this position he would be surrounded in a short time, but also that if he failed to conquer Korea in short order, Hideyoshi would have him beheaded.
Then a new factor entered the picture which decided Konishi to retreat and abandon the invasion. Yi-Sun Sin had returned to the sea! The news of the first defeat had caused a loud cry for the reinstatement of Yi-Sun as commander of the fleet, and the King finally consented. He called on the great admiral to return to his former post and rid the seas of the Japanese menace as he had before. Yi-Sun salvaged what he could from the remains of Won Kyun’s fleet and picked up a few small ships that had missed the last fighting. His return infused new courage into the hearts of the men, and they set about their work with a conquering spirit. Before he was ready to take the offensive the Japanese had landed and were well inland, but Yi-Sun refused to be discouraged. He built a few small tortoise boats and took to sea to search for the enemy.
Immediately he came into contact with the Japanese, first in a successful night attack on a small convoy, and then in the morning with a large Japanese fleet. His ships showed signs of indecision, still mindful of the defeats they had suffered under Won Kyun; but Yi-Sun smashed straight into the enemy line and rammed the Japanese flagship. His example of valor and daring so inspired his men that they followed on into action and soundly defeated the enemy. Some few Japanese ships escaped, but their concentration was broken up. These victories gave Yi-Sun a short respite from battle, which he devoted to building more tortoise boats and training his crews to man them efficiently, while his agents ashore recruited new men and replenished the fleet’s provisions.
Meanwhile the Chinese had dispatched two large fleets, one to the south and the other to the north. The latter was commanded by the vain Chil Lin, who was titled the “Great Admiral,” and who was to take command of the combined fleets. There was tear in the hearts of the Koreans that his vanity would result in enmity between Yi-Sun and his superior, especially after certain disgruntled courtiers had reported to Chil Lin that Yi-Sun’s loyalty was dubious.
Yi-Sun rose to the occasion, this time with a remarkable example of statesmanship and tact. He collected a great store of fish, game, and wines and set out to meet the Chinese with his presents. Soon afterwards Yi-Sun had the good fortune to fall in with a small group of Japanese ships, which he took and gave to Chil Lin to send home as his own trophies. From that time on Yi-Sun had but to suggest a plan to the “Great Admiral” and it became an order. Chil Lin reaped the trophy rewards and much fame at home, while Yi-Sun accomplished two great purposes. He kept his own position where he could direct operations through the friendly Chil Lin, and his flattery was so well liked by the Chinese that they sent ships and men far in excess of their original plans.
For several months the Japanese continued to lose ship after ship in single ship engagements or in small encounters, except on one occasion when Chil Lin decided to attack a fortress in strange waters without the aid of Yi-Sun, and 48 ships were lost. However, that was the enemy’s only success and they were soon forced into a position of idleness in which they suffered from attrition with no possibility of compensation.
After months of waiting, and losses of both men and ships, a licentious life accomplished its work and Hideyoshi died. His successor ordered the expedition to embark and return home, but outside the harbor it met Yi-Sun and Chil Lin and was severely mauled. The battered expedition was then forced to return to the hostile shores of Korea. The Japanese were trapped; behind them an avenging army advancing to encompass their destruction, and before them the sea dominated by the redoubtable Yi-Sun Sin.
The Japanese generals decided to bribe their way out. A “token of affection” of 100 ounces of silver and 45 swords were sent to Chil Lin, but the Admiral refused to be bribed. The enemy troops, however, were finally allowed to set sail for Japan, believing that their way was clear. They sailed in the early morning so as to slip by Yi-Sun in the faint light of dawn, but Yi-Sun learned of the plan. Massing his own ships far enough off the coast to catch the retreating army without a chance of making shore, he waited his time, and hurried up from the west just as the convoy was fairly under way for home.
The sensations of Konishi and Yi-Sun must have been strange as the two archenemies met in combat for the first time. On one side was the clever and formidable Konishi, a brilliant fighter on both land and sea, who had been the outstanding Japanese figure in both invasions. He was the first of the invaders to set foot in Korea and the last to leave, and it was his division which had won the most glorious of the land victories. He had advised Hideyoshi against the second invasion, for he understood the situation far better than his Shogun. Nevertheless, he had been appointed to the command and had done his best. Now he was in retreat, having twice been forced out of Korea by the distant activities of the Admiral, and on the threshold of departure was about to join in battle with his nemesis.
On the other side was the greatest sea fighter in eastern history, about to avenge the invasions and despoliation of his country. According to the ancient Korean legends, Yi-Sun knew that he had only a few hours to live, and as he approached his redoubtable enemy, he prayed, “Today I am to die. Give me but one more victory over these Japanese and I shall die content.”
The great convoy moved slowly, as such formations usually do, and Yi-Sun had no trouble overtaking them in his faster tortoise boats. Again he attacked with his customary dash, deploying his fleet in two divergent lines, “like a nutcracker to crush the Japanese.” The accounts of this great battle are vague and confused by exaggerations, with each side differing in listing their losses. The Japanese with their overwhelming numbers put up a gallant fight, but they were no match for the aroused fury of the avenging Koreans. The retreating convoy was practically annihilated and thousands of heads were brought home as trophies.
During the fighting Yi-Sun received information from his scouts that another Japanese fleet was attacking Chil Lin to the southward. As soon as he could break away from the first engagement, he dashed to the aid of his ally and again came into contact with cornered and desperate Japanese. This time the Koreans changed their tactics— instead of dashing in to ram and fight hand- to-hand, Yi-Sun circled around the confused enemy ships and forced them into a disorganized mass.
Then the Koreans introduced a new weapon of Yi-Sun’s own invention called the pun-t'ong, or spraying tube. From the Korean historian’s account of the battle, the tube sprayed a variety of Greek fire similar to that used against the Turks in the invasions of the Bosporus. Whatever the substance was, it was successful in setting fire to most of the Japanese vessels. Hundreds of ships were burned, and those which escaped the flames were overtaken and sunk by the faster tortoise boats. The Koreans afterwards claimed that the entire fleet was destroyed as well as the convoy, but the Japanese claimed that most of their ships escaped. Probably both sides suffered heavily in ships and men. Nevertheless, the victory was quite complete, for the invaders had been driven from the soil of Korea and chased home under the sting of an ignominious defeat. For two hundred years after this battle no Japanese dared to leave the limits of his native land under the penalty of death, showing how thoroughly defeated they must have been.
The greatest loss suffered by the Koreans was the death of Yi-Sun Sin, who was killed in the height of the action while directing the movements of his Navy. He died happily, content in the knowledge that the enemy had been driven from his country.