The Elephant in the Annals: A Remarkable Tale from the Joseon Dynasty
When one thinks of the Joseon Dynasty (1392–1897), images of Confucian scholars, wooden palaces, and royal ceremonies come to mind. But among the volumes of The Annals of the Joseon Dynasty—a UNESCO World Heritage record spanning over 500 years—lies a most unexpected entry: the story of an elephant.
Not only was the elephant recorded in precise bureaucratic language, but it also sparked debates, accidents, and logistical headaches across the royal court. This article explores the fascinating journey of the first elephant in Korea, as documented by the meticulous royal scribes of the Joseon court.
1411: A Gift Unlike Any Other
“The King of Japan sent an elephant—an animal unseen in our country. It was ordered to be kept and raised by the Office of Royal Stables (Saboksi), consuming 4 to 5 do of beans each day.”
— Annals of King Taejong, 11th Year (1411), February 22
In 1411, King Taejong of Joseon received a rare diplomatic gift from Japan: a live elephant. At the time, this was an astonishing creature, virtually unknown on the Korean peninsula. It is likely that Japan re-gifted the elephant from Southeast Asia, where elephants were native.
The scribes noted its diet before anything else—perhaps a subtle indication of the economic implications the creature would bring.
1412: A Deadly Incident
“Yi U, the former Minister of Public Works, mocked the elephant for its appearance and spat at it. The elephant became enraged and trampled him to death.”
— Annals of King Taejong, 12th Year (1412), December 10
A year after the elephant’s arrival, tragedy struck. A high-ranking official, Yi U, insulted the elephant and was killed by it. The record doesn’t just describe the event—it interprets the animal’s action as an expression of anger, attributing emotional depth to the creature.
1413: Exile to a Remote Island
“The elephant, being of no use and requiring hundreds of seok of beans per year, shall be sent to a remote island in Jeolla Province.”
— Annals of King Taejong, 13th Year (1413), November 5
The royal court decided to exile the elephant—not because of the incident, but due to its enormous appetite. Feeding the elephant was straining state resources. The king, amused by the suggestion of exiling it due to overconsumption, agreed with a laugh.
1414: Tears of the Exile
“The elephant, left on Jangdo Island, refuses to eat and grows thin. When it sees humans, it sheds tears.”
— Annals of King Taejong, 14th Year (1414), May 3
Moved by a local governor’s report, the king ordered the elephant to be returned to the mainland. The idea that the elephant cried upon seeing people suggests that the Joseon court viewed it not merely as an exotic beast but as a sentient, emotional being.
1420–1421: A Burden Shared
“Maintaining the elephant places a heavy burden on the people of Jeolla. May it be cared for in rotation across the southern provinces.”
— Annals of King Sejong, 2nd Year (1420), December 28
“In Gongju, a handler was killed by the elephant. It eats ten times more than other animals. May it be relocated to an isolated pasture.”
— Annals of King Sejong, 3rd Year (1421), March 14
Despite efforts to keep the elephant alive, it continued to pose dangers and consume enormous quantities of grain. Provincial governors pleaded for relief. Eventually, it was banished again—this time, likely for good.
What This Story Tells Us
This is not just a tale about a rogue elephant. It offers unique insights into:
- Food scarcity in early Joseon society, where even feeding one animal sparked national debate.
- The moral attitudes toward animals, recognizing their capacity for emotion and suffering.
- The extraordinary value Joseon Korea placed on meticulous recordkeeping, capturing not just wars and politics but also curious encounters like this one.
The elephant was not remembered for its size or origins, but for its ability to move people—literally and figuratively.
A Legacy Preserved
The Annals of the Joseon Dynasty contains over 1,800 volumes meticulously recorded by court historians who were forbidden from censorship or political influence. The fact that this elephant episode was preserved in such detail is a testament to the richness of Korean historical documentation—and the cultural importance placed on truth, however strange it may be.
If you’re looking to understand how a nation treated even a single elephant as a matter of state, you need look no further than the pages of Joseon Wangjo Sillok—where no detail was ever too small to be remembered.
About the Author
