New Government—Clan Feeling in Satsuma—Administrative Changes—Reformers
and Reactionaries.
In the spring of the following year (1869), when order was finally
restored and the young Mikado had held his first audience of foreign
representatives, an attempt was made to give practical effect to the
Imperial intentions by establishing a deliberative assembly, to which
the name of _Kōgisho_, or parliament, was given. It consisted of 276
members, one for each clan. Here, again, we are struck by the wide range
of progressive opinion in the country, irrespective of party feeling and
anti-foreign prejudice, for in a manifesto issued by the ex-Shōgun two
months before his resignation he had stated his desire “to listen to the
voice of the majority and establish a deliberative assembly, or
parliament”—the very word _Kōgisho_ being used.
As might have been foreseen, this first experiment, made in an
atmosphere of feudalism, was a failure; but Sir Harry Parkes, then
British Minister, describing a debate on the subject of foreign trade
which took place, said that the result of the discussion, and its
general tone, were creditable to the discernment of this embryo
parliament.
The treatment accorded to the adherents of the Tokugawa cause when
hostilities finally ceased in the spring of 1869, was marked by a
generosity as wise as it was unlooked for. In Japan up to that time
little consideration had been shown to the defeated party in civil wars.
The defeated side, moreover, in opposing the Imperialists had earned the
unfortunate title of rebels (_Chōteki_), reserved for those who took up
arms against the Crown. In this instance moderate counsels prevailed.
The territories of the daimiō of Aidzu, the backbone of Tokugawa
resistance, and those of another northern chieftain, were confiscated;
eighteen other daimiōs were transferred to distant fiefs with smaller
revenues; while in a few cases the head of a clan was forced to abdicate
in favour of some near relative. Retribution went no further. Later on,
when the feudal system was abolished, the same liberality was displayed
in the matter of feudal pensions, being especially noticeable in the
case of two large sections of the military class, the _Hatamoto_ and the
_Gokénin_, who formed the hereditary personal following of the Tokugawa
Shōguns.
The generosity shown by the Government led to much discontent in the
military class in many clans. This was notably the case in Satsuma,
where there were other grounds for dissatisfaction. The position of the
Satsuma clan had always been somewhat different from that of other
clans. Its situation at the south-western extremity of the kingdom, far
from the seat of authority, had favoured the growth of an independent
spirit, and the clan had long been noted for warlike qualities. Though
subdued by the military ruler who preceded the Tokugawa Shōguns, and
professing fealty to the Tokugawa House, the clan had preserved an
appreciable measure of importance and prestige, if not independence,
which the Shōguns in question had been careful to respect. The previous
head of the clan had before his death in 1859 adopted as his heir his
brother’s son, then a child of five years. The affairs of the clan had
been to a large extent controlled ever since by this brother, Shimadzu
Saburō, a name familiar to foreigners in connection with the outrage
which led to the bombardment of Kagoshima; but he was in poor health,
and at the time when the new Government was formed the control of clan
matters had largely passed into the hands of the elder Saigō, a man of
commanding personality, whose daring defiance of the Tokugawa
authorities in the stormy days preceding the Restoration had made him a
popular hero, and of other influential clansmen. Both Shimadzu and the
elder Saigō were thorough conservatives, opposed to all foreign
innovations. But there was a strong progressive group in the clan led by
such men as Ōkubo and the younger Saigō, who were far from sharing the
reactionary tendencies of the older leaders. This division of feeling in
the clan was one of the causes of the dissensions in the ministry which
arose in 1870, and it had important consequences, which were seen a few
years later in the tragic episode of the Satsuma Rebellion.
The first note of discord came from Satsuma. One of the first acts of
the new Government had been to transfer the Capital from Kiōto to Yedo,
which was renamed Tōkiō, or “Eastern Capital.” The Satsuma troops which
had been stationed in Tōkiō as a guard for the Government suddenly
petitioned to be released from this service. The ground put forward was
that the finances of the clan, which had suffered from the heavy outlay
incurred during the civil war, did not permit of this expensive garrison
duty. But the real reasons undoubtedly were a feeling of disappointment
on the part of a majority of the clansmen at what was regarded as the
small share allotted to Satsuma in the new administration, and some
jealousy felt by the two leaders who presented the petition towards
their younger and more active colleagues, combined with distrust of
their enthusiasm for reform.
The garrison was allowed to go home, and the elder Saigō also returned
to his province. The moment was critical. The Government could not
afford to lose the support of the two most prominent Satsuma leaders,
nor, at this early stage in the work of reconstruction which lay before
it, to acquiesce in the defection of so powerful an ally. In the
following year (1871), therefore, a conciliatory mission, in which
Iwakura and Ōkubo were the leading figures, was sent to the offended
clan to present in the Mikado’s name a sword of honour at the tomb of
Shimadzu’s brother, the late daimiō of Satsuma. The mission was also
entrusted with a written message from the Throne to Shimadzu urging him
to come forward in support of the Mikado’s Government. By this step clan
feeling was appeased for the moment, and Saigō returned to the Capital,
and became a member of the Government.
How unstable was the condition of things at that time was illustrated by
the changes in the personnel of the Ministry which took place in
September of the same year, and the administrative revision which
followed within a few months. The effect of the first was to strengthen
the progressive element in the administration at the expense of the old
feudal aristocracy. The Cabinet, as reorganized, consisted of Sanjō as
Prime Minister and Iwakura as Minister for Foreign Affairs; four
Councillors of State, Saigō, Kido, Itagaki and Ōkuma, represented the
four clans of Satsuma, Chōshiū, Tosa and Hizen, while another Satsuma
man, Ōkubo, became Minister of Finance. The effect of the revision of
the constitution was to divide the _Dajōkwan_, or Central Executive,
established in the previous year, into three branches, the _Sei-in_, a
sort of Council of State presided over by the Prime Minister; the
_Sa-in_, a Chamber exercising deliberative functions, which before long
took the place of the _Kōgisho_; and the _U-in_, a subordinate offshoot
of the Council of State, which was shortly afterwards merged in that
body. These administrative changes had little real significance. Their
chief interest lies in the fact that they show how obsessed some
enthusiastic reformers were with the idea of deliberative institutions,
of parliamentary methods of some kind, being embodied in the framework
of the new constitution; and in the further fact that the new chief
Ministers of State, under this reorganization, the Daijō Daijin,
Sadaijin, and Udajin, borrowed their official titles from the Chambers
over which they presided. Sir Francis Adams, describing these changes in
his _History of Japan_ mentions that the deliberative Chamber was
regarded at the time as “a refuge for political visionaries, who had
thus an opportunity of ventilating their theories without doing any
harm,” and that “the members of the subordinate executive Chamber (the
_U-in_), who were supposed to meet once a week for the execution of
business, never met at all.” He added that he had never been able to
learn what the functions of this Chamber were supposed to be, or what
its members ever did. The real work of administration was carried on by
the small but active group of reformers of the four clans, who were
gradually concentrating all authority in their own hands.
The high ministerial offices thus created were filled by Sanjō, Shimadzu
and Iwakura. The last-named, the junior in rank of the three, shared
with Kido and Ōkubo the main direction of affairs. The other two were
mere figure-heads, though their positions at Court and in Satsuma,
respectively, gave strength to the Government.
[Illustration:
KIDO JUNICHIRŌ.
In recognition of the services rendered to the state before the
creation of the new peerage his son was ennobled after his father’s
death. His death occurred before the creation of the new peerage,
but his son, the present Marquis, was ennobled in recognition of his
father’s services.
]
Shimadzu’s appointment was a further step in the conciliation of
Satsuma, a development of the policy of timely concessions which had
averted a rupture with that clan. The conclusion of the alliance between
the four clans, which made the Restoration possible, had, as we have
seen, been a difficult matter. A still harder task confronted the new
Government. This was to maintain the alliance for future purposes,—to
ensure the further co-operation of the same clans in the work of
reconstruction. The first step in the new direction, the formation of a
Government to fill the place of the Shōgunate, had been taken. Even if
this Government had the defects of its purely artificial character, even
if it were nothing better than a jejune attempt to combine things so
incompatible as Eastern and Western institutions, feudal and pre-feudal
systems, it had at least the merit of being the outcome of a genuine
compromise brought about by the pressure of political need. Of the grave
difficulties attending the work of reconstruction both the conservative
and anti-foreign, as well as the progressive elements in the
Ministry—the two parties to the compromise—must have been more or less
conscious. The discontent in Satsuma was only one of many symptoms of
grave unrest which showed themselves throughout the country. A sinister
indication of the gradual decay of Tokugawa authority had been furnished
by the discontinuance in 1862 of the enforced residence of feudal nobles
at Yedo, with all its attendant results. This decay had carried with it
the weakening of feudal ties. Laxity of clan administration, its natural
consequence, had given opportunities for mischief to the dangerous class
of clanless _samurai_, or _rōnin_. Of these they were not slow to avail
themselves, as was shown by the frequency of murderous attacks on
Japanese and foreigners alike; and the fear of combined action on the
part of these ruffians which might at any moment threaten the safety of
the whole foreign community had led to the stationing of foreign troops
in Yokohama, The action, moreover, of the Imperialists in encouraging
anti-foreign feeling for their own immediate purposes had brought its
own nemesis by giving rein to the turbulent impulses in the national
character. Clan jealousies, too, which the alliance of four clans had
stifled for a time, began to reassert themselves.
With the downfall of the Tokugawa Government these disturbing influences
came into full play, while the resources of the new rulers for coping
with them were very inadequate. From the wreckage of the complicated
system of Tokugawa administration little indeed which was of material
value to the builders of the new framework of state survived. The
hand-to-mouth methods of Tokugawa finance, largely dependent on
irregular feudal contributions, had resulted in a depleted Exchequer,
more debts than assets being left for the Shōguns’ successors. Nor were
the finances of the clans in a better condition. The currency of the
country was in a state of hopeless confusion due to the great variety of
note and metallic issues in circulation throughout the country, the
Shōgunate and most of the clans having their own paper money, which were
at a premium, or discount, according to circumstances. Trade and
industry were also hampered in their development by the rigid rules
which closed the frontiers of clans and provinces to strangers, and by
the numerous impediments in the shape of barriers and tolls which
obstructed intercourse and the exchange of commodities between different
parts of the country. To crown matters, the navy consisted of only a few
ships, all of obsolete type with the exception of a monitor bought by
the Tokugawa Government from America, and there was no regular army at
the service of the State.
The military forces at the disposal of the Shōgunate in former days
constituted on paper at least a respectable army for those times,
sufficient, coupled with the policy of _divide et impera_ systematically
followed by Tokugawa Shōguns, to overawe the feudal nobility whose
allegiance was doubtful. The total number of these troops may be
reckoned roughly at about 400,000. They consisted of levies from the
clans. By a law passed in the middle of the seventeenth century the
clans were bound to furnish to the Government fixed quotas of troops,
when occasion demanded, the number of men to be supplied being regulated
by the revenue of a clan—this revenue, again, being the value of the
assessed annual produce of its territories. But the efficiency of these
troops had naturally deteriorated during the long period of peace
coincident with Tokugawa rule, nor in later Tokugawa days could much
dependence be placed on their loyalty to Yedo. The military weakness of
the Shōgunate had been exposed in the course of the operations against
the Chōshiū clan, nor had sufficient time elapsed for the services of
the few foreign instructors employed by the Tokugawa Government to
reorganize the army to have any good effect. During the civil war the
Imperialists had recourse to the formation of small bodies of irregular
troops called _shimpei_, or “New Soldiers,” recruited mainly from the
class of _rōnin_ already mentioned, some of whom were armed with rifles;
but these hastily raised troops were untrained, and their lack of
discipline was shown when they acted as a voluntary escort to the Mikado
on his first visit to the new Capital. From their conduct on that
occasion it was obvious that they might easily become a danger to the
authorities employing them.
Encouraged by the success which had attended its efforts in Satsuma the
mission of conciliation sent to that clan proceeded under instructions
to Chōshiū, where a message from the Mikado of import similar to that
addressed to the Satsuma noble, Shimadzu, was delivered. Here it was
joined by another leading member of the Government, Kido. The mission,
thus reinforced, visited in succession, Tosa, Owari and other clans.
Besides its general purpose of conciliation, elsewhere, as well as in
Satsuma, for the attainment of which it was necessary to enquire into
the state of clan feeling, and take what steps might be advisable to
allay the prevailing discontent, the chief object of the mission was to
enlist the support of the clans concerned for the Government, and
organize a provisional force to uphold central authority. The result of
its efforts, so far as the chief object was concerned, was the formation
of a force of some eight or nine thousand troops, which was obtained
from various clans. A favourable augury for the future lay in the fact
that it included not only clansmen who had taken part in the Restoration
movement, but others who had supported the Tokugawa cause. By this means
was formed the first nucleus of what was to develop by slow degrees into
a national army.
In view of the slender financial resources at the disposal of the new
Government it was decided to exact a forced contribution for the purpose
of meeting the immediate needs of the Exchequer. This contribution, to
which the term of “tribute” was given, was levied on all classes of the
people, officials being called upon to pay a tax amounting to
one-thirtieth of their salaries.
The important points to be noted in the foregoing imperfect sketch of
the situation which confronted the new rulers at this time is that the
revolution was planned and carried out by the military class of certain
clans, with the aid of the Court, the rest of the nation taking no part
in it; and that the leading men in that class who came to the front and
assumed control of affairs were divided into two groups, whose views on
future policy were in the main different. On one side were those who
clung to the old traditional methods of administration, amongst whom
were to be found, nevertheless, men of moderate views. In numbers and
influence they were as superior to their opponents as they were inferior
in vigour, ability and insight. The other group consisted of a few men
of more enlightened and progressive views, who were convinced that the
time had come for the nation to break with its past, and that in the
establishment of a new order of things, visible as yet only in the
vaguest outline, lay the best hope for the future. The conservative, or
reactionary, party, as it may now be called, had long obstinately
opposed foreign intercourse in any form save that which had kept Dutch
traders in the position, virtually, of prisoners of State. Driven by the
force of circumstances from that position, they fell back on a second
line of entrenchments—resistance to changes of any kind when those
changes meant the adoption of foreign customs. There was a fatal flaw of
inconsistency in their attitude of which, perhaps, they were not
unconscious themselves. They made an exception in favour of foreign
innovations which appealed to the nation at large, such as steamships
and material of war. Time, too, was on the side of their opponents, not
on theirs. The doctrines they upheld were part of an order of things
which the nation had outgrown, and was preparing to discard. New ideas
were taking hold of men’s minds, and deserters from their ranks were one
by one joining the standard raised by the party of reform. Never, even
in pre-Tokugawa days, had the nation lacked enterprise. Intercourse with
the Dutch had quickened appreciation of what was known as “Western
Learning,” and provoked secret rebellion against the Tokugawa edicts of
seclusion. Now the spirit of progress was in the air. The tide of
reform, which later on was to sweep the less moderate reformers off
their feet, had set in.
Fortunately for the country at this juncture there was one point on
which both parties were in agreement. Between the leading men on each
side there was a general understanding that the abolition of feudalism,
repugnant as it was to many, could not well be avoided. The Tokugawa
administration had, as we have seen, been established on a feudal basis.
The survival of this feudal foundation may well have appeared compatible
neither with the removal of the rest of the administrative structure,
nor with the avowed principles of the Restoration, however broadly the
latter might be interpreted. The Shōgunate, moreover, had filled two
rôles, so to speak. Itself part of the feudal system, it was also the
central government. The extensive territories, situated in different
parts of the kingdom, known as the Shōgun’s domains, the feudal revenues
of which amounted to one-third of the total revenue of the country, had,
under the Tokugawa _régime_, been administered by the central
government. There were also, as has already been explained, other feudal
territories which, for various reasons, had also been subject, either
from time to time or permanently, to the same central administration.
How to deal with the large area represented by these domains and
territories if the feudal system were to continue, would have been a
difficult problem. The Shōgun’s domains themselves had for the time
being passed into the hands of the new Government which was responsible
for their administration, but there were obvious objections to giving to
them the permanent character of Imperial domains. Apart from the
difficulty of disposing of so wide an area in this way, the adoption of
this course would have perpetuated an undesirable arrangement, the dual
capacity of ruler and feudal lord having been one of the weak points in
the Tokugawa system of administration. It would also have lowered the
dignity of the Throne, which in principle at least had been upheld
through all vicissitudes, by placing it on the same feudal plane as the
defunct Shōgunate, not to speak of the reproach of treading in the
footsteps of their predecessors which the new rulers would have
incurred. To have made them Crown Lands would have entailed still more
awkward consequences. On the other hand, a redistribution of this wide
extent of territory amongst new or old feudatories would have occupied
much time, and time was of importance in the work of reconstruction in
hand. Any step, moreover, in this direction, however carefully designed
to reconcile conflicting claims, would have opened the door to grave
dissension at a moment when clan rivalry was reasserting itself. These
and other considerations, in which questions of national finance—and
perhaps also the idea, borrowed from abroad, that feudalism implied a
backward state of civilization—may have played a part, doubtless
contributed to the unanimity of the decision to cut the Gordian knot by
abolishing the feudal system.
That this solution was one which had already found acceptance in many
quarters there is clear evidence. It is true that no direct reference to
the measure appears in the Charter Oath of April, 1868. But the
manifesto announcing the Shōgun’s resignation, issued in the autumn of
the previous year, contained the suggestion that the old order of things
should be changed, and that administrative authority should be restored
to the Imperial Court. The language of the Tosa memorial which inspired
this resignation was still plainer. It spoke of the danger to which the
country was exposed by the discord existing between the Court, the
Shōgun and the feudal nobility, and advocated “the discontinuance of the
dual system of administration” and “a return to the ancient form of
government.” Making due allowance for the vagueness of the phrases used,
if “the discontinuance of the dual system of administration” meant, as
it clearly did, the cessation of Tokugawa rule, “the restoration of the
ancient” (namely pre-feudal) “form of government” pointed no less
plainly to the abolition of feudalism. The same sequence of ideas
appears in the letter addressed by the Shōgun at the time of his
resignation to the _hatamoto_, the special class of feudal vassals
created by the founder of Tokugawa rule, and in the communication on
this subject presented by his Ministers to the foreign representatives
on the same occasion.