King of Commerce, Yeonsan-gun Ch.34
Money and War
As rumors spread about an unusual “Kangmu” (royal hunt and military drill) involving a large-scale siege simulation, nearby villagers gathered to watch.
“A battle with 10,000 soldiers, they say?”
“No, it’s a training exercise with arrows without tips instead of rocks.”
“So, is it a real fight or not? Is it worth watching?”
The villagers, always eager for a spectacle, flocked to see what they imagined would be a grand stone-throwing brawl.
While the generals took the training seriously, the villagers were simply eager for a show. In fact, King Kyung-sik had designed the event to be just that—a spectacle for the people.
Kyung-sik lamented the lack of popcorn or nachos as he watched.
‘If I claim to find a new route to the New World through this, they’ll surely label me a mad king in the history books,’ he thought, the historian within him wary of how his actions would be recorded. Despite his fear, he had already engaged in numerous unusual endeavors.
Unable to find any suitable snacks, he continued watching.
The entire siege simulation was scripted. Even if it resembled a traditional stone-throwing contest, the defenders had the clear advantage with their elevated position.
The siege was set to last no more than a week, making it impossible for the attackers to succeed without extraordinary tactics.
Thus, the script predetermined that the defenders would win. However, the exercise was not without purpose. The real training involved soldiers following orders from the central command, conveyed through drums and gongs, crucial for maintaining discipline on the battlefield.
The Siege Begins
Yoo Dam-nyeon, tasked with reconnaissance, circled the fort, examining its defenses.
Despite the scripted nature of the exercise, the commanders of the assaulting forces earnestly explored ways to breach the fortress.
‘The walls aren’t tall, but they are expansive!’
The main wall wasn’t particularly high, suggesting that scaling it with ladders was possible if they could get close enough.
However, various barriers were meticulously placed to prevent such an approach.
A deep, wide moat encircled the fort, beyond which layers of defensive structures—chees and bastions—were connected by bridges.
Outside these defenses lay additional moats and trenches, patrolled by soldiers with crossbows.
Trenches weren’t easily attacked, as another moat and deer antler-like obstacles (abatis) lay beyond them.
Furthermore, any approach to the fort was met with a barrage of projectiles from the walls, bastions, and trenches.
Even the location of the main gate was unclear, with the bridge leading to a pointed bastion-like structure, leaving it uncertain where to enter.
‘A mud fort, crafted with such ingenuity, becomes an impenetrable stronghold!’ Yoo marveled at the design.
The fort was a result of months of incremental labor—digging moats, constructing defenses, and reinforcing structures whenever there was time. Although labor-intensive, it demonstrated the cost-effectiveness of earthen fortifications in Joseon’s impoverished economy.
Joseon’s traditional stone walls often crumbled under heavy rain, and while mud forts offered good value, they were typically low and poorly maintained, failing to provide adequate defense.
Joseon relied heavily on mountain fortresses for defense, as flatland fortifications were historically unreliable. These mountain forts, though now neglected, had long been the backbone of Korea’s defensive strategy.
Kyung-sik’s design, however, showcased how even a low-walled, flatland fort could become nearly impregnable with proper engineering.
Standing atop a nearby hill, Commander Jang Jeong surveyed the fort’s formidable defenses.
“This is not a mock battle but a true war simulation. We might need cannons for such a fortress,” he remarked, acknowledging the difficulty of breaching the defenses without artillery.
The Siege Continues
The assaulting forces brought forward carts modified from Hwacha (rocket carts), equipped with large shield walls.
These weren’t modern tanks but more like rudimentary shielded wagons inspired by the Wagenburg tactics used by the Hussite militia in Europe decades earlier.
Kyung-sik, with his limited military knowledge, knew that such mobile barricades were common in ancient warfare.
As the attacking forces advanced, shielded by these carts, the defenders signaled the outer trench soldiers to retreat.
The spectators cheered and jeered as they witnessed what appeared to be a retreat, not realizing it was scripted for the defenders to feign withdrawal.
The first day ended with a scripted victory for the attackers.
Day Two: Escalating Tactics
On the second day, the obstacles—abatis and stakes—prevented the attackers from advancing further with their carts.
The attacking commanders debated how to remove these obstacles. Though they appeared to strategize, they followed the predetermined script, discussing but not implementing any novel ideas.
The agreed plan was to dismantle the shields from the carts and use them to cover soldiers as they cleared the abatis and stakes.
Under this plan, they created a narrow path, just wide enough for one cart to pass.
The defenders didn’t stay idle. The gates opened, and cavalry charged out, flanking the soldiers working on clearing the path and forcing them to flee, abandoning their equipment.
The spectators roared louder than the previous day, cheering the apparent victory of the defenders.
‘...Even if the harvest is over, will they really stay to watch until the end?’ Kyung-sik wondered.
Day two ended with a point to the defenders.
Day Three: Assessing Progress
On the third day, Kyung-sik gathered the commanders and officials to discuss the effectiveness of the Kangmu exercise.
“It’s as if we’re engaged in real warfare. This training makes our soldiers far more formidable than the traditional hunting exercises ever could.”
“No amount of studying military texts can match the experience of an actual battle. Your Majesty’s innovative Kangmu should be formalized and made a permanent tradition.”
“The octagonal fort Your Majesty designed is incredibly resilient. Even in earthen form, it can withstand ten times its attacking force. If built with bricks, it would be virtually indestructible.”
“However, the fort’s strength relies on having well-trained soldiers and a constant supply of projectiles. With Your Majesty’s reforms reducing troop numbers but focusing on elite training and equipping them with sufficient weaponry, our defenses will be secure.”
The feedback was overwhelmingly positive. Yoo Ja-gwang, often seen as a sycophant, even began identifying potential weaknesses in the fort’s design, surprising Kyung-sik with his competence.
“Good. Let’s formalize these annual Kangmu exercises and establish a dedicated department for them. The State Council should recommend personnel and propose a name for this department.”
Day Four: Near the Final Push
On the fourth day, the attackers resumed their approach, albeit with fewer spectators present.
They brought in wooden bridge-equipped siege engines, breaching the cleared path through the obstacles and advancing to the moat.
With shielded soldiers crossing the bridges and securing the trenches, the scripted action for the fourth day concluded.
However, some defending soldiers had a different idea.
“Wait, the enemy’s close enough for us to shoot. Why are we stopping?”
The soldiers hadn’t been informed about the scripted nature of the exercise.
Ignoring the order to cease fire, they began shooting at the attacking soldiers again.
Caught off guard by the renewed attack, the assailants retreated.
The central command quickly ordered a halt to the battle.
“Punish the soldiers who disobeyed orders according to military law!” commanded Yoo Soon-jeong, the defending commander, with a cold resolve.
Kyung-sik, shocked at the prospect of executing soldiers for disobeying in a mock battle, argued against it. Yoo Soon-jeong insisted, quoting, “If soldiers are treated too leniently or with excessive care, they cannot be commanded.”
Day five was to feature a scripted scenario where the defenders would repel the attackers from the newly occupied trenches.
Kyung-sik’s dismay over the executions, compounded by the tension of the previous day’s disobedience, was palpable. Jang Jeong, the assaulting commander, approached him.
“Your Majesty has conducted this Kangmu with proper ceremonies, awarding golden belts and military badges. Even though the formalities of a full-scale siege drill are not entirely in place, traditionally, soldiers who recklessly fire arrows or harm others are punished by military law. Why does Your Majesty show more concern for the soldiers than the laws of the military?”
Sensing Kyung-sik’s growing irritation, Yoo Ja-gwang, known for his sycophantic tendencies, intervened to suggest punishing Yoo Soon-jeong, knowing that aligning against Yoo would align him with Kyung-sik’s likely preference.
Final Day: Evaluating and Learning
On the sixth and final day, Kyung-sik convened a discussion with the generals to review the octagonal fort’s defensive capabilities and strategies for countering similar structures if used by enemies.
The defenders proposed sensible answers.
“The octagonal fort, although low-walled, is surrounded by multiple layers of defenses—bastions, moats, and trenches—making it formidable with soldiers who can launch projectiles. With enough muskets and cannons, as Your Majesty has designed, no enemy force could breach it. If we implement this design in our frontier forts and equip them with sufficient artillery, no barbarians would dare challenge us.”
Kyung-sik agreed, affirming that this had been his plan all along.
The attacking forces, however, were visibly intimidated by the fort’s design.
“This octagonal fort’s cunning design leaves no weak points and is impenetrable. If our enemies learn to build such forts, it will pose a significant threat. We should keep these strategies written in our native script (Hangul) to prevent their dissemination.”
Using Hangul for military secrets might seem odd in modern times, but in this era, Hanzi (Chinese characters) were the international lingua franca in East Asia, making this suggestion quite practical.
In fact, during King Seongjong’s reign, Yang Seong-ji had made a similar proposal, leading to the destruction of the Hanzi version of the Chongtong Deungnok (銃筒謄錄), an early firearms manual, which Kyung-sik had studied.
“Very well, let’s conceal military knowledge by writing it in Hangul. We should also create translations of military texts into Hangul and ensure our soldiers learn both the script and military tactics.”
At this, the Ministry of Rites (Yijo) chimed in unexpectedly.
“If we are to promote Hangul for military texts, why not also translate the Thousand Character Classic and the So Hak (Elementary Learning) into Hangul and spread their use?”
“Yijo’s proposal is excellent. Proceed with the translations and their dissemination,” Kyung-sik agreed, embracing the idea.
The Cost of War
The Kangmu exercise had been expensive, as one might expect from a siege simulation.
Even with wooden training weapons, the four-day exercise for 8,000 soldiers required significant resources.
With each soldier firing just five bolts a day, 160,000 crossbow bolts were used.
Adding the cost of training equipment, such as paper armor and wooden crossbows (instead of the deadly steel-spring versions), the expenses were staggering.
Several small hills likely turned barren as resources were consumed.
Kyung-sik realized that war, even in practice, was costly. The notion of stimulating the economy through wartime spending, as in mid-20th century America, was far beyond the reach of Joseon’s economy, which struggled with even modest peacetime expenditures.
Although soldiers were paid relatively well and contributed to their unit’s supplies, the direct expenditure on training equipment was significant.
The influx of nearly 10,000 soldiers with substantial purchasing power also led to a noticeable rise in Seoul’s market prices.
‘How did the Chinese manage to wage wars with armies of a million? No wonder they often collapsed afterwards,’ Kyung-sik pondered, reinforcing his budding pacifism and anti-war sentiments.
Given that previous Kangmu exercises traditionally lasted one to two weeks, Kyung-sik decided it was time to conclude this one.
As the soldiers gathered their crossbow bolts and projectiles, preparing for the final event—a ceremonial shooting competition—the atmosphere shifted from intense training to a more celebratory mood.
Archery Competition
The Sa Rye (射禮) was an ancient ritual, a competitive archery event rooted in the Zhou dynasty traditions. It was a respected practice, believed to strengthen military skills while providing an enjoyable spectacle.
The Sa Rye was seen as beneficial not only for boosting morale but also for enhancing military prowess.
Recognizing its value, Kyung-sik considered implementing it nationwide. Even a ruler skeptical of Confucianism like him saw the merit in this tradition.
Kyung-sik decided to take the first shot with a newly developed steel-spring bow, designed for its superior strength.
“This steel bow made by Your Majesty is too powerful for anyone to draw easily. A traditional horn bow would suffice,” one official suggested, wary of the frail-looking king’s ability to draw the formidable weapon.
Kyung-sik, slight and unimposing, insisted, “I am a descendant of Taejo. Of course, I can draw it! Bring it here!”
Officials knew that when the king used such harsh language, it was best to comply without question. They quietly fetched the bow.
Despite his frail appearance, there was hope that Kyung-sik, a descendant of the warrior kings Taejo and Taejong, might manage it.
With his court watching expectantly, Kyung-sik drew the steel bowstring.
“Hup!”
But nothing happened. The bow didn’t budge.
“Hrrrrk!”
Despite his best efforts, the string remained taut.
‘Damn it! Damn you, Yeonsangun! Why didn’t you exercise before I got here? This wretchedly thin body! Where are Taejo’s genes now?’
Kyung-sik silently cursed both his predecessor and himself for not maintaining better physical condition.
“Drawing a strong bow is the task of a warrior, not a king or a general. The soldier who excels with this bow will receive a promotion,” he declared, sidestepping his failure with a self-deprecating remark.
Despite his self-deprecating comments, no one dared to challenge his authority.
Before the actual archery competition began, a contest to see who could draw the steel bow ensued.
Most soldiers struggled to draw the bow. Even those who managed couldn’t fully draw it or shoot accurately.
The steel bow, originally designed as the spring mechanism for crossbows, was not intended to be drawn by hand.
Just when it seemed like no one could manage, Yoo Ja-gwang, even known for his sycophantic ways, spoke up.
“I know a scholar skilled in archery who will participate in this competition. Your Majesty will not be disappointed.”
The next contestant, the scholar Yoo Ja-gwang recommended, stepped forward.
Despite his reputation as a sycophant, Yoo Ja-gwang’s recommendations were often spot-on.
The scholar, surprisingly, drew the steel bow to its full draw length. Though his left arm trembled visibly, he managed to hit the target.
“Bullseye!” someone shouted.
Even Kyung-sik had to acknowledge the impressive feat.
“Indeed, this is a fine talent. What is your name?”
“I am Lee Jang-gon, the son of Officer Lee Seung-eon,” the scholar replied.
For the first time, Kyung-sik recognized a name from his history books.
‘Isn’t he the one with that famous story about marrying the butcher’s daughter?’
Lee Jang-gon’s tale of hiding among butchers during political purges and narrowly escaping death had become folklore.
Although Kyung-sik had never heard of Lee’s prowess, his scholarly background and impressive stature suggested he could be a valuable addition to the military.
“You are a rare talent. I will appoint you to a position. Military Affairs, find a suitable placement for Scholar Lee Jang-gon. Is there a position in the Royal Guard?”
Though he considered objecting due to his scholarly aspirations, Lee Jang-gon accepted the king’s offer, recognizing the opportunity to serve in a prestigious role.
Lee Jang-gon bowed deeply, expressing his gratitude for the appointment.
Financial Implications of the Kangmu
Kangmu had always been a controversial exercise, criticized for the hardships it imposed on the populace.
In the newly restructured market economy, the burden shifted from the people to the treasury.
To finance the expenses of the Kangmu, Kyung-sik decided to issue more Napjeoncheop (national bonds). With the first round of Napjeoncheop maturing, funds were needed to repay them, and new bonds were planned with varying maturities from one to ten years.
Kyung-sik aimed to curb the Pyeongjundogam’s direct lending to government departments, a practice akin to modern central bank currency issuance.
Instead, the Ministry of Finance (Hojo) would issue Napjeoncheop and allocate funds according to departmental budgets.
Compared to Joseon’s historical tax system, where taxation authority was fragmented, Kyung-sik’s reforms moved Joseon closer to a modern, centralized fiscal system.
“With local councils lending at an interest rate of 20%, the Napjeoncheop should also offer a similar rate to sustain the people. Set the interest rate for this year’s Napjeoncheop accordingly.”
Previously, the interest rates were set too low to facilitate the introduction of credit currency, flooding the market with around 16 million Napjeoncheop notes at near-famine relief rates.
Now, with local councils acting as de facto banks and creating credit, there was a need to raise rates to control inflation.
To manage this, the government would sell and subsequently buy back Napjeoncheop, this time across the entire country rather than just in Seoul.
However, something unusual happened.
“No one is returning the Napjeoncheop issued last year?”
Footnotes:
*1: In historical records, Yeonsangun is quoted as saying, “The only thing I fear is the historian’s pen.” Despite his attempts to suppress them, he remains infamous as a tyrant. The Annals of Yeonsangun are notably sparse, possibly due to his persecution of court historians.
*2: Joseon’s fortresses, while equipped with basic defenses like bastions and moats, often lacked the structural integrity of their Western counterparts. Proposals to build with bricks surfaced early in Joseon’s history, with Kaesong’s inner wall reportedly made of bricks. However, prolonged peace led to stagnation in fortification techniques, and most defenses were poorly maintained.
References:
- Yoon Yong-chool. (2018). Discussions and Adoption of Burnt Brick Construction Techniques in the Late Joseon Period. Journal of Korean National Culture, 67, 235-280.
- Shim Jung-ae. (2011). A Study on Moats in Joseon-Era Town Fortresses: Focusing on Haemi Fortress. Hansung University Graduate School.
*3: In modern terms, base money refers to the money directly issued by a central bank. In advanced economies, it is typically supplied through open market operations or the discount window, where central banks buy government securities or lend to commercial banks against collateral.
In the novel, the Pyeongjundogam’s lending to government departments is analogous to open market operations, while its deposits with local councils mirror the discount window.
*4: For more on the creation of credit and its implications, see Chapter 26, “For the Country to Thrive, the Countryside Must Thrive” of this series.
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