Life in 1880s Russian Legation

People gather around a city well in Seoul, in this Russian postcard from the early 1900s. / Robert Neff Collection

By Robert Neff

The Korean version of Dr. Sylvia Braesel's book, "Photos of a diplomatic life between Europe and East Asia: Carl von Waeber (1841-1910)" / Courtesy of Puringil Publishing Co.

History often confines itself to narrating only the events surrounding key protagonists and antagonists, their exploits and faults and their eventual fates. But in my opinion, it is often the people surrounding these key figures who are the most interesting ― the ways in which they interact with our heroes and villains, the subtle (and, sometimes, not so subtle) influence they exert and their own deeds that are sometimes misappropriated by or misattributed to the powerful political player. Often these peripheral actors are family members and they are rarely mentioned in diplomatic documents or even in personal correspondence. It is as if they never existed.

Nevertheless, they did exist. Sometimes all we have is a title such as the wife of so-and-so, or the son or daughter of so-and-so and, if we are very lucky, we might have a first name or even a maiden name. Wives and children seem rarely mentioned ― especially by men. But even in the letters and diaries of female missionaries and diplomats, there is a degree of opaqueness when describing other families.

Fortunately, Sylvia Braesel's book, "Photos of a diplomatic life between Europe and East Asia: Carl von Waeber (1841-1910)," has recently been translated and published in Korea. Waeber was the first Russian minister to Korea and was arguably one of the most important foreign diplomats on the Korean Peninsula. He was a master of Machiavellian politics, swinging back and forth from subtle to domineering influence upon not only the Korean court but also his diplomatic peers. Yet, according to some sources (which tend to be rather biased), the decisiveness of his acts was not merely his but his wife's too. There were two powerful women in his household ― his wife, Eugenie, and her sister-in-law's sister, Marie Antoinette Sontag. The relationship is somewhat confusing so it may help to consult these earlier articles: Russians arrive in Korea in 1885, Marie Antoinette Sontag: "The uncrowned empress of Korea" and Sontag Hotel - 'consultation center for diplomatic conspiracies.'

This Russian postcard depicts the region around Seoul in the early 1900s. / Robert Neff Collection

In her book, Braesel provides a fascinating and in-depth family history of the Waebers. The pictures and most of the information came directly from the family (something previous scholars did not have access to) and add invaluably to our knowledge ― even correcting mistakes that have been made by other sources.

However, while appreciating the importance of the family's history, I am more interested in knowing about the family's stay in Korea. I am surprised at just how much Braesel's book reveals through the photographs taken in Korea during the 1880s and 1890s.

The opening chapter about Korea reveals pictures of the original Russian Legation ― not the image of the Western-style building with its tall white tower so often associated with the Russian Legation ― in the style of Korean architecture. One of the initial images that captivated me is that of Eugen, Waeber's second son, wearing a wide-brimmed hat and standing on the porch next to a Russian sailor. It seems there is a look of youthful curiosity on his face as he gazes at the camera. Eugen was no stranger to Asian life having been born in China in 1879. But it still seems as if he is somewhat overwhelmed by the political turmoil surrounding him.

This Russian postcard shows a busy street in Seoul in the early 1900s. / Courtesy of Diane Nars Collection

A picture of him with his parents and Sontag also commands attention. Eugen is dressed in an iconic sailor's outfit; his father stands behind him in full dress uniform (complete with medals) while his mother and Sontag sit on either side of him. Their Western clothing contrasts sharply with the Korean architecture behind them.

There are panoramas of Seoul and the distant mountains, the crowded river port of Mapo, images of the South Gate, the busy street in front of Gwanghwamun and pictures of picnics at the palace and Mount Bukhan. Some seem rather familiar but others are unique ― candid images of family life and Korean officials. There is even a picture of Gwanchok Temple in Nonsan, which makes me wonder if it had been purchased from a photography shop in Seoul. Or did he actually travel that far south?

I have to admit, Eugen especially interests me. None of the diaries or correspondences by Westerners residing in Seoul seem to mention this young boy. I was aware he was in Korea but I knew absolutely nothing about him ― but in Braesel's book, we indirectly learn so much about him. There is a photograph of him being escorted through the streets in a Korean palanquin by Korean soldiers armed with rifles and bayonets, as onlookers stare.

The city wall forms an excellent backdrop for a view of street traffic in Seoul in the early 1900s as depicted in this Russian postcard. / Robert Neff Collection

In one photograph, Eugen is playing the piano in the legation, with a leopard skin at his feet. A picture bearing the Russian and Korean flags sits on the piano with what appears to be family pictures and possibly a clock behind. Included in the book are samples of his piano sheet music.

There are several images of Sontag. They do not match the later descriptions of her being matronly and somewhat dour; they are images of a pretty woman carefully watching over her young charge (Eugen) ― especially the 1886/87 photographs of them sitting on a tiger pelt in front of the legation.

There are just too many unique and valuable pictures to describe. But I would be remiss if I failed to mention the image of a young-looking Heungseon Daewongun (the regent of Joseon) and a picture of King Gojong ― looking very regal and relaxed. I am not sure where the picture of the monarch was taken but, judging from its date, I am guessing in the Russian Legation.

The West Gate of Seoul in the early 1900s is shown in part of a Russian postcard series. / Robert Neff Collection

The last third of Braesel's book is devoted to the Waebers' and Sontag's lives after they left Korea. Considering Sontag's popularity ― especially with Korean coffee drinkers ― I am sure this section will appeal to many readers. I know from my own conversations with Braesel that her research was very time-consuming ― especially when it came to finding Sontag's final resting place. I cannot express my admiration for her tenacious research and luck in gathering all of this information for publication.

Of course, I do have some petty complaints ― many of which are beyond the control of Braesel and her publisher. I wish there were more personal letters from Korea describing family affairs, gossip and political events as seen through the eyes of Eugenie and her son. I know Sontag's records were all destroyed but surely, there were some family members who kept the letters sent to them from Korea. I have some information from other sources but, as stated earlier, they are biased and it is always best to have at least two sides to a story.

Dr. Sylvia Braesel and her daughter, Pamela, visit Seoul during the summer of 2015. We had a long conversation about Sontag, but, strangely, I don't recall us drinking any coffee. / Robert Neff Collection

I am not including any of Braesel's pictures in this article because I think it is important for her to remain in control of them. They should be available only to those with a true interest in learning about the family and Korea, those willing to make the sacrifice to visit their local library or to purchase the book. We all know that the internet has made it far too easy to copy pictures without giving the proper citation to the source.

With that said, one of my complaints about her book is the quality of some of the Korean photographs. I know that there have been allegations with earlier books of photographs being altered, so I can understand the reluctance in enhancing some of the images, but I think there are a few that should have been. I think both the original and the enhanced versions could have been included. These images are too valuable to allow the ravages of time and light to go unchecked and uncorrected upon them.

My final complaint is rather petty but I do wish there was also an English translation of this book. I am sure there are quite a number of people who are not very proficient in Korean or German but would like to know more about this incredible family.

However, despite it being written in Korean, if you have any interest in old images of Korea and China in the late 19th century, or are an avid coffee drinker in Korea fixated on Sontag and her (somewhat inflated) role in making coffee popular on the peninsula, then this is a book for you. Remember, a picture is worth a thousand words and there are hundreds of thousands of words in this book.

I would like to express my appreciation to Dr. Sylvia Braesel for providing me with a copy of her book and for her generosity in answering my too-frequent pleas for assistance. I would also like to thank Diane Nars for allowing me to use her image and for her continued assistance.

Robert Neff has authored and co-authored several books, including Letters from Joseon, Korea Through Western Eyes and Brief Encounters.