However, before long, a party of eighty Japanese, including a number of gendarmes, well armed and ready for resistance, swooped down on Song-do. They took the Pagoda to pieces and placed the stones on carts. The people of the district gathered round them, threatened them, and tried to attack them. But the Japanese were too strong. The Pagoda was conveyed in due course to Tokyo.
Such an outrage could not go unnoticed. The story of the loss spread over the country and reached the foreign press. Defenders of the Japanese at first declared that it was an obvious and incredible lie. The Japan Mail in particular opened the vials of its wrath and poured them upon the head of the editor of the Korea Daily News—the English daily publication in Seoul—who had dared to tell the tale. His story was “wholly incredible.” “It is impossible to imagine any educated man of ordinary intelligence foolish enough to believe such a palpable lie, unless he be totally blinded by prejudice.” The Mail discovered here again another reason for supporting its plea for the suppression of “a wholly unscrupulous and malevolent mischief-maker like the Korea Daily News." “The Japanese should think seriously whether this kind of thing is to be tamely suffered. In allowing such charges at the door of the Mikado’s Special Envoy who is also Minister of the Imperial Household, the Korea Daily News deliberately insults the Mikado himself. There is indeed the reflection that this extravagance will not be without compensation, since it will demonstrate conclusively, if any demonstration were needed, how completely unworthy of credence have been the slanders hitherto ventilated by the Seoul journal to bring the Japanese into odium.”
There were instant demands for denials, for explanations, and for proceedings against the wicked libeller. Then it turned out that the story was true, and, in the end, the Japanese officials had to admit its truth. It was said, as an excuse, that the Resident-General had not given his consent to the theft, and that Viscount Tanaka did not intend to keep the Pagoda himself, but to present it to the Mikado. The organ of the Residency-General in Seoul, the Seoul Press, made the best excuse it could. “Viscount Tanaka,” it said, “is a conscientious official, liked and respected by those who know him, whether foreign or Japanese, but he is an ardent virtuoso and collector, and it appears that in this instance his collector’s eagerness got the better of his sober judgment and discretion.” But excuses, apologies, and regrets notwithstanding, the Pagoda was not returned.
It may be asked why the white people living in Korea did not make the full facts about Korea known at an earlier date. Some did attempt it, but the strong feeling that existed abroad in favour of the Japanese people—a feeling due to their magnificent conduct during the war—caused complaints to go unheeded. Many missionaries, while indignant at the injury done to their native neighbours, counselled patience, believing that the abuses were temporary and would soon come to an end.


