Abolition of Feudal System—Reconstitution of Classes—Effects of
Abolition of Feudalism.
The abolition of the feudal system formed one of the subjects of
discussion in the embryo parliament, the _Kōgisho_, soon after its
creation in 1869. The way had been prepared for this discussion by the
presentation of memorials on the subject at the time of the Shōgun’s
resignation eighteen months before from several clans representing both
of the parties which were so soon to be engaged in active hostilities.
Memorials of this kind to the Throne and Shōgunate, and Edicts and
Notifications issued in response to them, were common methods in those
days of arriving at decisions in grave matters of State. Borrowed
originally, like so many other things, from China, they were part of the
machinery of central government. The recommendations offered in these
Memorials revealed a considerable divergence of opinion. But they also
showed, what has already been pointed out, namely, the recognition of
the close connection between feudalism and the Shōgunate; and the
existence of a very general feeling that, in spite of the serious
disturbance of the whole administrative structure which so sweeping a
change must necessarily involve, nothing short of the surrender of
feudal fiefs to the Crown would be a satisfactory solution of the
problem presented by the fall of the Shōgunate. This conviction had
taken root in the minds of men like Kido, Iwakura and Ōkubo, whose
mission to the clans, mentioned in a previous chapter, was a proof of
their leading position in the new Government.
The method adopted for giving effect to the decision arrived at was the
_voluntary_ surrender of feudal fiefs to the Throne, the lead in this
matter being taken by the same four clans which had planned and carried
out the Restoration. In March, 1869—a memorable date for the nation—a
Memorial in this sense, the authorship of which is generally ascribed to
Kido, was presented to the Throne by the daimiōs of Satsuma, Chōshiū,
Tosa and Hizen. The chief point emphasized in the Memorial was the
necessity of a complete change of administration in order that “one
central body of government and one universal authority” might be
established; and, in accordance with the intentions of the Memorialists,
the Sovereign was asked to dispose as he might think fit of the land and
the people of the territories surrendered. The circumstances under which
dual government had grown up were explained, stress being laid on the
defect of that system, “the separation of the name from the reality of
power,” and the Tokugawa Shōguns were denounced as usurpers. In this
denunciation of the last line of Japanese rulers, due to political
reasons, the fact that the system of dual government had grown up long
before the Tokugawa family appeared upon the scene was conveniently
ignored. As to “the separation of the name from the reality of power,”
the expression is a reference to an old Chinese phrase, “the name
without the substance,” a metaphor applied, amongst other things, to
figure-head government. This is a stock phrase with Chinese and Japanese
writers, who constantly appeal to a rule of conduct more honoured in the
breach than in the observance.
The example set by the four clans was followed by others. By the end of
the year out of 276 feudatories there were only seventeen abstainers
from the movement, these being daimiōs of eastern territories who had
taken the Shōgun’s side in the civil war. One of the earliest and most
enthusiastic Memorialists was the daimiō of Kishiū, the Tokugawa prince
who had succeeded to that fief by the promotion of his relative, Prince
Kéiki, to be Shōgun. Only three years before he had been an advocate of
the continuance of the Shōgunate. This change of attitude on the part of
a prince who ranked with the daimiōs of Owari and Mito at the head of
the feudal nobility may be interpreted as showing how natural was the
association of feudalism with the Shōgunate in men’s minds, and how
difficult for him, as for others, was the conception of a feudal system
without a Shōgun.
The reply of the Throne to the Memorialists was of a non-committal
nature. They were told that the question would be submitted to a Council
of feudal nobles shortly to be held in the new Capital. There is no
reason to suppose that the caution displayed in this answer implied any
hesitation on the part of the Government to carry out the measure
contemplated. The drastic character of the proposal justified caution in
dealing with it, and the variety of the interests involved called for
careful consideration. The proposal having been submitted to the
assembly of daimiōs for their formal approval, a Decree was issued in
August of the same year announcing its acceptance by the Throne, which
felt, it was said, “that this course would consolidate the authority of
the Government.” As a preliminary step, the administration of clan
territories was remodelled so as to correspond with the new order of
things; the daimiōs called together to pronounce on their own destinies
returned in the altered rôle of governors (_Chihanji_) to the
territories over which they had hitherto ruled; and the Government
settled down to consider and determine in detail the various
arrangements rendered necessary by the new conditions about to be
created.
Two years later, on the 29th August, 1871, the Imperial Decree
abolishing the feudal system appeared. “The clans,” so it ran, “are
abolished, and prefectures are established in their place.” The brevity
of the Decree, singular even for such documents, the length of which
often ranged from one extreme to another, may in this instance be
accounted for by the fact that an Imperial message was at the same time
addressed to the new clan governors. In this reference was made to the
sanction already accorded by the Throne to the proposal for the
surrender of feudal fiefs, and it was pointed out that the sanction then
expressed was not to be regarded as another instance of the common
defect of “the name without the substance,” but that the Decree now
issued must be understood in its literal sense, namely, the abolition of
the clans and their conversion into prefectures. The message was
followed by an order directing the ex-daimiōs to reside in future, with
their families, in Yedo, their territories being entrusted temporarily
to the care of former clan officers. This measure, while undoubtedly
strengthening the hands of the Government, must have forcibly reminded
the nobles concerned of the precautionary methods of Tokugawa days.
A further step in the same direction was taken by the amalgamation of
the Court and feudal nobility into one class, to which the new name of
_kwazoku_ (nobles) was given. The abolition of feudalism, moreover,
entailed the disappearance of the _samurai_, the fighting men of the
clans, and the rearrangement of existing classes. Under the feudal
system there had been, outside of the nobility, four classes—the
two-sworded men, or _samurai_, the farmers, the artizans and the
merchants, or tradesmen. The new arrangement now introduced comprised
only two classes—the gentry (_shizoku_), who replaced the _samurai_, and
the common people (_heimin_). What also had formed a pariah class by
itself, consisting of social outcasts known as _éta_ and _hinin_, was
abolished, its members being merged into the class of _heimin_. A
further innovation was introduced in the shape of a proclamation
permitting members of the former military class to discontinue the
practice of wearing their swords, which had been a strict feudal rule.
The Decree abolishing the clans was anticipated in one or two feudal
territories, the authorities concerned acting on the previous
announcement of the Imperial sanction having been given to the proposal
of the Memorialists, and amalgamating, of their own accord, the
_samurai_ with the rest of the population. The example was not generally
followed, but ever since the issue of that announcement memorials and
petitions had been flowing in from the military class in many districts
asking for early effect to be given to the measure in contemplation, and
for permission to lay aside their swords and take up agricultural
occupations. Nor was there wanting the stimulus in the same direction
supplied by inspired writers in the Press that was just coming into
existence under official auspices. One of these observed that what the
nation needed was an Imperial army and uniformity in land tenure,
taxation, currency, education and penal laws—aspirations all destined to
be fulfilled in the near future. The general feeling thus shown
doubtless influenced the Government in taking the final step.
Shortly before the issue of the Decree there occurred a reconstruction
of the Ministry, strengthening the position of the leaders of the party
of reform, and that of the clans they represented, while the influence
of the aristocratic element in the Government was diminished. In the
reconstituted Cabinet, as we may now call it, Prince Sanjō remained
Prime Minister, Prince Iwakura became Minister for Foreign Affairs,
replacing a Court noble, while four prominent clansmen whom the
Restoration had, as we have seen, brought to the front, took office as
Councillors of State. These four were Saigō, Kido, Itagaki and Ōkuma.
To this date also belongs a troublesome incident which called for the
intervention of the foreign representatives. The Japanese authorities,
fearing a recurrence of the disturbances connected with the Christian
propaganda of the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, had always
regarded with misgiving the treaty clause permitting the erection of
Christian places of worship at the open ports. This apprehension was
increased by the renewal of missionary effort when the country was
reopened to foreign trade and intercourse. As a precautionary measure,
the old official notices denouncing Christianity as a pernicious
doctrine had continued to be displayed in all parts of the country, and
at Nagasaki, which had at one time been a Christian centre, the
population had been forced annually to trample upon emblems of the
proscribed faith. On the erection in 1865 of a Roman Catholic Church at
that place, which had in the meantime become an open port, people from
the neighbourhood attended it in such numbers as to attract the
attention of the authorities. It was then discovered that Christian
doctrines had not been completely stamped out there, as had been the
case elsewhere. The offending individuals were consequently ordered to
be banished to remote districts, the foreign representatives being with
difficulty successful in obtaining a temporary suspension of the orders.
After the Restoration the official notices proscribing the Christian
religion were, with the substitution of the Mikado’s authority for that
of the Shōgun, deliberately renewed, and in 1870 the orders for the
banishment of the offenders were carried out in spite of repeated
remonstrances on the part of the foreign representatives. Otherwise,
however, judged by the standard of those days, the treatment to which
the exiles were subjected appears on the whole to have been free from
excessive cruelty. It was not till the year 1873 that the practice of
Christianity ceased to be forbidden. The notices proscribing the
Christian religion were then withdrawn, and the banished persons were
restored to their homes. In curious contrast to this recrudescence of
persecution was the suggestion, made in a pamphlet about the same time,
that Christianity should be officially recognized, a suggestion which is
said to have been carried still further some years later, when the
attraction for Western civilization was at its height, by a prominent
member of the Ministry.
To return to the subject of feudalism, from which this digression in the
interests of chronological order has led us away, its abolition was the
first, as it was also the most radical, of the reforms on which the new
Government embarked. It struck at the root of old-established things and
cleared the way for all future progress. It is a pity that Marquis Ōkuma
in his _Fifty Years of New Japan_ has dismissed the subject in a few
lines. Himself one of the chief actors in the scene, no one was better
qualified to deal with it. Foreign writers less well equipped for the
task have given it more attention. Some of these have taken the
superficial view, founded on the signatures appended to the Memorials,
that the voluntary surrender of fiefs was due to the initiative of the
feudal nobles themselves, and have praised their action for what they
regarded as its exalted patriotism and unique self-sacrifice. This view
is quite erroneous. Occasion has already been taken to point out how the
surroundings in which the daimiōs of those days were brought up had the
effect of depriving them of all character and initiative, and how they,
like the Mikado and Shōgun, were mere puppets in the hands of others,
unfitted for responsibility of any kind, unaccustomed to the direction
of affairs. Lest it be thought that the picture has been overdrawn, it
may be well to quote the words of a Japanese writer of the time. They
occur in an anonymous pamphlet published in 1869, extracts from which
are given by Sir Francis Adams in his _History of Japan_.
“The great majority of feudal lords,” the writer says, “are generally
persons who have been born and nurtured in the seclusion of the women’s
apartments: ... who even when they have grown up to man’s estate still
exhibit all the traits of childhood. Leading a life of leisure, they
succeed to the inheritance of their ancestors.... And in the same
category are those who, though designated vassals, are born of good
family on the great estates.”
Of the truth of this statement there is abundant evidence. There were,
indeed, a few instances of feudal chiefs who had some share of power and
influence. But they were exceptions to the general rule, and the
authority they exercised was brought to bear rather on the affairs of
the State than on the administration of their own territories. Long
before the Restoration the government of feudal fiefs had passed out of
the hands of the nominal rulers, and their hereditary chief retainers,
into those of clansmen of inferior status. These were the real authors
of the measure of reform which swept away the feudal system. They were
the same men who carried out the Restoration. Throughout all the
negotiations for the surrender of their fiefs the feudal nobility
counted for nothing, and, as a class, were only dimly conscious, if
aware at all, of what was going on before their eyes.
In return for the voluntary surrender of their fiefs the dispossessed
daimiōs received pensions amounting to one-tenth of their former
revenues, the payment of the small hereditary incomes of the _samurai_,
in their altered status of gentry, being continued for the present by
the Government. From this arrangement, however, the _samurai_ of one or
two clans who had offered a prolonged resistance to the Imperialist
forces were excluded, a distinction which caused much suffering and
hardship.
The surrender of the clan territories involved, of course, the rendition
of the lands, varying greatly in extent, that were held by the two large
sections of the military class already mentioned, the _hatamoto_ and
_gokénin_. Their pensions were regulated on a scale similar to that
adopted for the feudal nobility.
The amount of the revenues acquired by the Government in consequence of
the surrender of all feudal territories, including the Shōgun’s domains,
the administration of which had previously been taken over, is not easy
to determine. A very rough estimate is all that is possible. The extent
of the latter has already been noticed. Still more remarkable was its
wide distribution. Out of the sixty-eight provinces into which Japan at
the time of the Restoration was divided no less than forty-seven, by
reasons of lands owned therein by the Shōgunate, contributed towards the
Tokugawa exchequer. In the Tokugawa law known as “The Hundred Articles”
the total assessed yield of the country is given as 28,000,000 _koku_ of
rice, the yield of all land, whatever the nature of its produce, being
stated in terms of that cereal. Of this, 20,000,000 _koku_ represented
the produce of the lands of the feudal nobility and gentry, and the
balance the yield of the Shōgun’s estates. This statement was made in
the seventeenth century, and it is natural to suppose that by the time
the Restoration took place the revenues in question may have increased
with the general progress of the nation. In the absence of exact data we
shall probably not be far wrong if we estimate the gross revenue which
came into the possession of the Government by the abolition of the
Shōgunate and the feudal system, of which it formed a part, as not much
under 35,000,000 _koku_ of rice, equivalent, at the average price of
rice at that time, to about £35,000,000. From this had to be deducted
the share of the cultivators, which varied according to the locality.
Out of the residue, again, the pensions due to the feudal nobility, and
other members of the military class, had to be paid, so that the net
balance accruing to the national exchequer in the first years of the new
administration could not have been large.
The effects on the various classes of the nation caused by the abolition
of feudalism were very different, the benefit derived from it by some
contrasting sharply with the hardship inflicted upon others. These
effects, however, were for the most part gradual in their operation.
They were not realized in their full extent until some years later, when
the multifarious details connected with the carrying out of this great
undertaking had been laboriously worked out.
With the exception of the _fudai_ daimiōs and the feudal groups of
_hatamoto_ and _gokénin_—which constituted the hereditary personal
following of the Tokugawa Shōguns, standing between the higher feudal
aristocracy and the bulk of the military class—there is no reason to
think that the territorial nobility suffered very greatly by the change,
save, at once, in loss of dignity, and, later on, in the compulsory
commutation of their pensions. Denied by custom all share in the
management of clan affairs, they had little call to object to a measure
the true import of which was imperfectly appreciated, or do anything
else but silently acquiesce in the decisions of the masterful retainers
by whose counsels they and their ancestors were accustomed to be guided.
As a matter of State policy the change was as much beyond their control
as it was above their powers of comprehension, which rarely strayed
outside the orbit of trivial pursuits and pleasures in which they were
content to move. Some, indeed, may have welcomed the change as a release
from irksome conditions of existence, and as offering a prospect of
wider fields of action. The case of the _fudai_ daimiōs, and others in
the same category, was different. To them the abolition of the feudal
system was a severe blow, for it meant the loss of official emoluments
which, under the Shōgunate, they had enjoyed as a special privilege for
generations.
To the two classes of artizans and merchants the immediate effect may
very naturally have been unwelcome in so far as it entailed disturbance
of existing conditions of livelihood, of old-established usages of
industry and trade. Under feudalism not only had a close system of clan
guilds grown up, but, as in Europe during the Middle Ages, artizans and
tradesmen engaged in the same handicraft or business were restricted to
separate quarters of a town. The former may also have had reason to
regret the liberal patronage of feudal customers, which allowed leisure
and scope for the exercise of individual skill, and to view with concern
the pressure of open competition in the industrial market. But as the
new conditions became stabilized, and the benefits of uniformity of
administration became apparent, neither class had any reason to be
dissatisfied with the alteration in their circumstances. Certainly not
the merchants and tradesmen. The disappearance of the barriers between
provinces and between clans was all to their advantage, while the
opening up of new channels of commercial activity must have more than
compensated for any drawbacks attending the new order of things.
One class—the most important at that time—the _samurai_, suffered
greatly by the change. Accustomed for centuries to high rank in the
social order, to a position of superiority over the rest of the people,
from whom they were distinguished by privileges and customs of long
standing, as well as by a traditional code of chivalry in which they
took a legitimate pride, the _samurai_ found themselves suddenly
relegated to a status little differing from that of their former
inferiors. It is true that the military class, as a whole, had long been
in an impoverished condition owing to the embarrassment of clan
finances, which had led in several cases to the reduction of feudal
establishments, and to the rigid rule which kept the members of this
class from engaging in any of the profitable occupations open to the
rest of the nation; and that the unrest and discontent which resulted
from this state of things may have induced them to regard with favour
any change which held out the prospect of a possible amelioration in
their circumstances. There is some truth also in the view that the eager
enthusiasm of the party of reform, inspired with a belief in the
fulfilment of their cherished aspirations, may have found an echo in the
minds of the military class and stirred the patriotic impulses so
conspicuous in the nation; while, at the same time, the sentiment of
feudal loyalty may have dictated implicit obedience to the decision of
clan authorities. Making allowance for the influence of considerations
of this nature, there can, nevertheless, be little doubt that the sudden
change in the fortunes of the military class aroused a bitter feeling,
which showed itself later in the outbreak of grave disturbances.
The unpopularity of the measure was increased by the commutation of
pensions, which bore very hardly on the military class. In introducing
in 1873 a scheme for this purpose the Government was influenced mainly
by the pressing needs of the national exchequer. Under this scheme
Government bonds bearing 8 per cent interest were issued. _Samurai_ with
hereditary incomes of less than 100 _koku_ of rice were enabled to
commute their pensions, if they chose to do so, on the basis of six
years’ purchase, receiving half of the sum to which they were entitled
in cash, and the remainder in bonds; while the basis for those in
receipt of annuities was fixed at four and a half years’ purchase, the
low rates of purchase in both cases being accounted for by the high
rates of interest then prevailing.
Three years later the voluntary character of commutation was made
compulsory, and extended to all members of the military class
irrespective of the amount of income involved. The current rate of
interest having by that time fallen, the basis of commutation was
increased to ten years’ purchase for all alike, a slight reduction being
made in the rate of interest payable on the bonds, which varied
according to the amount of the income commuted. Indirectly this
commutation resulted in further misfortune for the military class.
Unversed in business methods, without experience in trading operations,
many _samurai_ were tempted to employ the little capital they had
received in unremunerative enterprises, the failure of which brought
them to extreme poverty.