Moved by an impulse which was not cleared up at the time, if ever it has

been since, Choshiu began in July 1863 to fire from his forts and from

armed vessels in the straits on passing steamers. French, American, and

Dutch war-vessels were successively bombarded as they entered the passage.

The fire was returned, and damage inflicted on the Daimio's batteries;

but such was the power of their guns and their precision of aim that

many were killed and wounded on the foreign ships, some of which were

obliged to retire without getting through the strait. The prince remained

obdurate and continued his hostile proceedings, a steamer belonging to

the Tycoon and another belonging to Satsuma, said to be the friend and

ally of Choshiu, coming in for the customary salutation as they passed.

He embargoed or destroyed trading junks attempting to pass the straits,

and thus established an effective blockade of the great commercial artery

of Japan.

It was droll to find Satsuma, soon after the affair of Kagoshima,

appealing to the Mikado against these outrages of Nagato, and opposing

the reactionary policy of his quondam ally. Satsuma had had his lesson;

Nagato had yet to receive his.

* * * * *

Sir Rutherford Alcock returned to his post after two years' furlough. His

distinguished services had been recognised by the Queen's Government,

who conferred on him the honour of Knight Commander of the Bath. In

the same year, 1862, he completed his valuable work, 'The Capital of

the Tycoon,' which for the first time brought the real Japan of that

day to the knowledge of the reading world. This, the most important

single literary work left by the busy pen of Sir Rutherford Alcock,

is a storehouse of information on the history, civilisation, politics,

religion, art, and industry of Japan, carefully sifted and presented in

the most attractive form. It contains, moreover, a vivid narrative of

the reopening of international intercourse with that country, and of the

stirring incidents which marked the earlier years of its progress. It is

also a philosophical study at first hand of the most remarkable political

evolution that history records. Considering the official activity and high

tension under which the materials were gathered, the writing of such a

book, of a Japanese Grammar, and other literary and artistic studies, is

a proof of the intellectual detachment which is usually associated with

the higher order of mind. This work of a single pioneer observer has well

borne the scrutiny of the innumerable host of students, grave and gay, who

have followed in the same path. After forty years its authority remains

intact. A short extract will at once show the character of the book and

afford a convenient summary of the then Government of Japan:--

That the Mikado is the hereditary sovereign of the empire, the

descendant of a long and uninterrupted line of sovereigns of the

same dynasty, and the only sovereign _de jure_ recognised by all

Japanese from the Tycoon to the lowest beggar--a true sovereign

in all the legal attributes of sovereignty; and that the Tycoon

receives investiture from him as his lieutenant or generalissimo,

_and as such only_, the head of the executive, is known to most

readers of the present day. True, the Mikados have been shorn

of much of their power since Yoritomo, in 1143, profiting by

civil commotions among the princes of the land, and armed with

power as generalissimo to humble these turbulent chiefs, only

suppressed the troubles to arrogate to himself the greater part

of the sovereign power under the title given by a grateful master

of Ziogun. Another Pepin d'Héristal and mayor of the palace, he

did not care to dethrone the descendant of an illustrious line of

emperors, and was content with holding the reins, and transmitting

the same privilege to his descendants. And so the power continued

divided in great degree, the shadow from the substance, until

later, towards the close of the sixteenth century, a peasant's son

and favourite attendant of the actual generalissimo, but known

in Japanese history by the name he afterwards assumed of Taiko

Sama, raised himself, apparently by great abilities as well as

daring, to the seat of power on his master's death, and stripped

the reigning Mikado of the last remains of secular power.

Since that time the successive emperors, or Mikados, are brought

into the world, and live and die within the precincts of their

Court at Miaco (Kioto), the boundaries of which they never pass

during their whole life. Is it possible to conceive a less

desirable destiny? But the Zioguns, or Tycoons, as they are

styled in European treaties, have long been undergoing a somewhat

analogous process, under which all substantial power has been

transferred from them to the principal Daimios, or Princes,

who form a Great Council of State, and whose nominee the Tycoon

himself has become, as well, I believe, as all his chief Ministers

or councillors. They exercise, if they do not claim, the right

of removing both Tycoon and Ministers, and a voice potential in

all affairs of State. For legislative changes even the almost

forgotten Mikado must indeed give his consent, never of course

refused when any unanimity prevails....

The Mikado of the day is the exact type of the last descendant

of Clovis, sitting "sad and solitary, effeminate and degenerate,"

doomed only to wield "a barren sceptre" and sigh away a burdensome

and useless existence of mock pageantry; never permitted to pass

the gates of his prison-palace....

This double machinery of a titular sovereign who only reigns,

and a lieutenant of the empire who only governs and does not

reign, from generation to generation, is certainly something

very curious; and by long continuance it seems to have led to a

duplicate system such as never existed in any other part of the

world, carried out to almost every detail of existence. Every

office is doubled; every man is alternately a watcher and watched.

Not only the whole administrative machinery is in duplicate,

but the most elaborate system of check and countercheck, on the

most approved Machiavellian principle, is here developed with a

minuteness and perfection as regards details difficult at first

to realise. As upon all this is grafted a system of more than

oriental mendacity, we feel launched into a world of shadows and

make-believes hard to grapple with in the practical business of

life. Of their mendacity and cynical views respecting it I had

many illustrations. One of the official gentry upon a particular

occasion having been found by a foreign Minister in deliberate

contradiction with himself, was asked, somewhat abruptly perhaps,

how he could reconcile it to his conscience to utter such palpable

untruths. With perfect calmness and self-possession he replied, "I

told you last month that such and such a thing had been done, and

now I tell you the thing has not been done at all. I am an officer

whose business it is to carry out the instructions I receive and

to say what I am told to say. What have I to do with its truth or

falsehood?"...

To return to the Tycoon and the governors of the early middle

ages, with its suzerain and feudatories, its fiefs and a

phantom king, with hereditary mayors of the palace and chiefs

with 10,000 retainers, each one holding himself as good as the

Tycoon, who must live in constant dread of open revolt or secret

assassination, what a pleasant state of existence for all parties

it reveals! Each of these territorial magnates or great Daimios

is practically independent of the Tycoon when within his own

territory, with power of life and death over all his subjects

and dependants; ... even an imperial passport will not secure an

intruder's life....

Power has passed in no small degree from the Tycoon's hands, as

it formerly did from the Mikado's, and now remains chiefly in an

executive Council of State, consisting of five Ministers, and

these again held in no small check, if not in subservience, by

the Daimios and feudal chiefs of the higher order, amounting to

some 360. Although these do not actually form a Chamber of Lords

nor assemble in a body at stated periods, nothing legislative, it

is said, can be done without their assent obtained.... They hold

themselves too high to demean themselves by taking part in the

administration, or holding office, under the Tycoon. But neither

the Tycoon nor the Ministers, separately or collectively, can

venture upon a change in their laws and customs without their

sanction and a further confirmation by the phantom sovereign of

Miaco....

In the mean time, between the Mikado who nominally wields the

sceptre--the Tycoon, a youth who no less nominally governs the

kingdom, and is but fourth in rank in the Japan red-book, for

three of the Mikado's officers take precedence--and the Daimios

great and small, ... the administrative machinery of the realm

seems to be kept in order.

Another incident of the year was Sir Rutherford Alcock's second marriage

to a friend of the earlier Shanghai days, the widow of the Rev. T. Lowder,

first consular chaplain of that settlement. They had been both widowed

about the same time. They were about the same age too, and the union,

based on a deep-rooted and matured affection, proved an exceptionally

happy one during thirty-five years, till death divided them. Lady Alcock

accompanied her husband on his return to Japan, where they arrived in

March 1864.

During the two years of the Minister's absence affairs in Japan had, as we

have seen, been advancing rapidly--whether towards a reasonable solution

or to a catastrophe was as yet doubtful. The agitation against the foreign

treaties had been gathering force and consistency; the Tycoon's position

was becoming more and more precarious, his existence being pledged to

the annulment of the hated treaties. Encouraged by the success which

had attended his mission to Europe in 1862, he despatched another in

the beginning of 1864, to represent to the European Governments that the

public feeling in Japan was growing worse every day, that the Tycoon would

not be able to protect foreigners in Yokohama, and that, in short, the

port must be closed and foreign trade confined to Hakodate and Nagasaki.

The mission, already on its way, was met by Sir Rutherford Alcock in

Shanghai, where he had an opportunity of personal conference with the

envoys. The situation was thus summarised by the Minister in a despatch

to the Foreign Office, 31st March 1864:--

It is just two years since I left Japan in order to be present in

London when the first mission sent by the Tycoon to the treaty

Powers in Europe should arrive. Returning to my post a month

ago, I met a second mission on its way to the same Courts. These

two embassies seem to me to form very significant events in the

history of Japan and its relations with foreign States.... I

consider the signing of the protocol of June 1862 (afterwards

adopted with unimportant modifications by all the other Powers),

freely granting without abatement all that the Tycoon asked, was

the culminating act and fitting end of the conciliatory policy

so consistently adhered to from the beginning. It was impossible

to concede more without abandoning the treaties altogether.

Thenceforth it only remained to gather the promised fruit of

greater security to life, and freer intercourse within narrowed

limits, which, for the moment at least, appeared unattainable in

the wider range of five ports and two cities.... The avowed object

of the second mission is to declare that all the hopes held out

by the Tycoon of the probable results of the first concessions

have been illusory.... The only fruit has been indiscriminate

aggression, increased insecurity, calling for measures of coercion

on the part of all the treaty Powers; finally, a decree for the

expulsion of foreigners, with a mission from the Tycoon to declare

his utter inability to maintain the treaties, and to suggest a

surrender of all the rights and privileges they were framed to

secure in perpetuity.

The mission was not successful in its main purpose, and soon returned to

Japan to report progress.

VI. THE CRISIS.

Foreign rights must be sustained by force or definitively

abandoned--Organises a retaliatory demonstration against

Nagato--Forts at Shimonoséki attacked by international squadron,

after delays--Satisfactory results--Nagato claims authority of

Mikado for his attacks on foreign ships--His defeat gave courage

to Tycoon--Anti-foreign measures promptly withdrawn--The treaties

of 1858 ratified by Mikado--Sir R. Alcock's recall--Lord Russell's

_amende_.

The Tycoon's Government had actually succeeded by patient persistence in

evil-doing in making Yedo "too hot to hold" the foreign representatives,

who had in consequence gradually accustomed themselves to residence in the

freer air of Yokohama. "Incendiarism and assassination had done their work

and effected the end for which they were employed," writes Sir Rutherford

Alcock, who goes on to remark that "the recovery of this lapsed right"

(of residence in the capital) "will have now to follow, not precede, other

measures." So far had the foreign nations retreated before the forces of

reaction, forces which necessarily acquired cohesion and momentum with

each retrograde step of the opposing Powers. The country, meaning thereby

the official hierarchy, was now at least, if not before, practically

unanimous. Mikado, Daimios, the Tycoon himself, however they may have been

embittered by their mutual jealousies, were now united, and passionately

united, in the determination to expel the foreigners, so far as it might

be possible,--on which latter point, however, there was room for great

differences of opinion. The Prince of Nagato might be a rebel against

the Tycoon's or the Mikado's authority, both of whom had disavowed his

proceedings, but his determination to block the passage of the Inland Sea

and suppress all trade but his own was an important part of the national

policy of expulsion. It appeared that the only friend of foreigners at

that time was the Prince of Satsuma, who had become a changed man since

his stronghold was bombarded, and he began to see that the restoration of

imperial rule and deposition of the Tycoon might be accomplished by the

assistance of foreigners. That event was undoubtedly accelerated by the

policy of the first two British ministers in Japan.

The new position was reviewed under a sense of deep personal

responsibility by Sir Rutherford Alcock in several despatches during

the spring of 1864, and, as we have seen, the conclusion he arrived at

was that the utmost limit of concession to Japanese exigencies had been

reached: everything had been given up to them that could be given up

without abandoning the treaties entirely and leaving the country. There

was not even room left for negotiation. "No attempt at a compromise of

such conflicting pretensions could possibly succeed." "Compromise or

concession is plainly impossible in the nature of things." Moreover, Earl

Russell had enjoined on both the _chargé d'affaires_ and the Minister to

stand firmly for their rights. His latest instruction to Sir Rutherford

Alcock on his departure from England was, "You will in any case require

from the Tycoon and the Daimios the execution of the treaty." In the face

of a determination to annul the treaties this necessitated some vigorous

action.

The most obvious and most straightforward course indicated was to deal

a decisive blow against the Prince of Nagato, who for nearly twelve

months had set the whole of the Western Powers at defiance. He was more

accessible from the salt water than even Satsuma; he was repudiated,

hypocritically or not, by his sovereign; and a punitive expedition to

Shimonoséki would not involve detriment to trade or inflict injury on

innocent people. Such an operation had, moreover, much to recommend it

from the point of view of general Japanese policy; for "in attacking

in his stronghold the most violent and rash of his class, it may be

possible," said the British Minister, "by one blow to paralyse the whole

body of Daimios.... The command of the Inland Sea and the whole internal

trade of that portion of Japan which must of necessity be in our hands

during any operations would do more, probably, to bring the Court of the

Mikado and of Yedo to a sense of the danger and folly of entering upon

hostilities with the treaty Powers than any course of diplomacy.... The

alternative is a probable catastrophe, and a war of a protracted kind at

no distant period."

About this time the appeals which for two years had been made in vain to

the British military authorities in China for a sufficient force to give

security at Yokohama were listened to, and a regiment of infantry, the

20th, and of marines, were detached from Hongkong and a force of Beloochis

from Shanghai. One of the anomalies of an unprecedented situation was that

the Government, which was concerting measures to expel all foreigners,

was nevertheless constrained to provide accommodation for these troops,

"which were not to make war, but to prevent acts which would lead to war."

For all that, the presence of foreign troops on the sacred soil was far

from palatable, even though the Tycoon might secretly acquiesce in the

reasoning by which the British Minister had commended a measure which was

in any case an unavoidable necessity.

The arrival of these troops had a marked effect on the tactics of the

Tycoon. For ten months his Government, which had been powerless and

passive regarding the warlike proceeding of Choshiu, now became alarmed

lest the foreigners were about to take the law into their own hands with

that recalcitrant Prince. The Tycoon's Ministers began to affect much

concern for his punishment and repression. They would at once move against

him, and until the result of their efforts was known they urged that the

British garrison should remain absolutely passive in Yokohama.

For effective action against the Daimio Choshiu it was necessary that an

agreement should be come to among the treaty Powers, three of whom had

been in actual collision with his batteries and armed ships. Individually

Great Britain had not received this direct provocation, and was only

interested in the general question of the obstruction to commerce and in

the maintenance of the political status of the Powers. How the concert

was brought about would be an interesting inquiry, but we may safely

conclude that the achievement owed much to two causes, one positive and

one negative. The former was the strong will, clear sight, and absolute

fearlessness of responsibility of the British Minister; the latter was

the non-existence of any ocean telegraph. For, as we have so frequently

seen nearer home, the direct efforts of the Great Powers to arrive at

any agreement for common action are always protracted, often abortive,

and seldom successful. The decision in this case had to be taken by the

agents on the spot, personally intimate with each other, acting on general

principles and on a free interpretation of the instructions from their

Governments. And so it came to pass that within three months after Sir

Rutherford Alcock's arrival in Japan the Ministers of France, the United

States, the Netherlands, and Great Britain had signed a protocol in which

they agreed to make a fresh representation in the nature of an ultimatum

to the Tycoon's Government, calling upon it to adopt means to put an end

to the hostilities of the Prince of Nagato, and informing it that on no

account would their Governments allow the port of Yokohama to be closed.

This agreement of May 1864 was the natural sequel to a declaration of 25th

July 1863, by which the same four Powers had intimated to the Tycoon the

necessity of reopening the Inland Sea, but which had remained without any

acknowledgment by the Government. The new _note identique_ addressed to

the Gorogiu was equally left unacknowledged by that body.

Nothing therefore remained but to take the respective naval commanders

into counsel. The Ministers had no authority over them, but it was quickly

found that the concert of admirals and captains was as perfect as that

of the diplomatic body. The ships of the four Powers--Great Britain,

France, United States, and Netherlands--were placed under the command of

Vice-Admiral Sir Augustus Kuper, and a plan of action was settled upon.

The advance to Shimonoséki was still, however, delayed by two

circumstances. The first was the return from Europe of two Japanese

students, out of five who had been sent there the previous year by that

very Prince of Choshiu against whom coercive measures were about to be

undertaken. These young men, hearing while abroad of the proceedings

of their chief, and convinced, from what they had seen in Europe, of

the overwhelming resources of the Powers, that Choshiu was bringing

disaster on himself in forcing battle on such antagonists, resolved to

hurry back to Japan with the express object of warning their prince of

his danger. The arrival of the two youths in Yedo was thought by the

foreign Ministers to offer some chance of coming to terms with Choshiu

without the arbitrament of arms, and accordingly facilities were afforded

by Vice-Admiral Kuper for landing the two travellers at the nearest

convenient point to their prince's territory. They were intrusted with

overtures of peace in the form of a long memorandum from the British

Minister, reviewing the whole situation, and explaining the attitude of

the Powers and the hopelessness of the armed resistance of any Daimio. The

messengers brought back to the rendezvous, where a light-draught vessel

waited for them, an oral reply from the prince explaining his attitude

and asking for three months' delay to enable Choshiu to confer with the

Mikado and Tycoon, by whose orders he had done what he had done, and

without whose consent he dare not change his policy. It is interesting

to recall the fact that the names of the two youthful emissaries were Ito

and Inouyé, who have since played so distinguished and honourable a part

in the development of their country.

The second cause of suspension of action against Choshiu was the news

of a convention concluded in Paris between the Japanese envoys and the

French Foreign Minister, dated June 20, 1864, in which this very object of

the reopening of the Straits of Shimonoséki was provided for. Were this

convention to be ratified by the Tycoon the immediate cause of dispute

would be removed. The matter, however, was disposed of with more than its

accustomed promptitude by the Japanese Government, who curtly refused to

ratify the French convention. The Tycoon's Ministers declared themselves

unable to carry out the agreement, and to ratify it would merely be to

add another to their too onerous obligations. Admiral Kuper was finally

given a free hand on August 25, and before the middle of September the

forts and ships of the recalcitrant prince were completely destroyed by

the Allied squadrons, not without considerable resistance and some loss

to the assailants. The action was conducted with admirable harmony among

the officers engaged, and the reciprocity of compliments between the

respective commanders-in-chief, especially between the French and English

admirals, is edifying reading in these later days.

The negotiations which followed on board the British flagship ended in

the most satisfactory manner. Choshiu submitted with a good grace, while

apologetically throwing the blame of his hostile proceedings on the two

higher authorities, the Mikado and the Tycoon.

All the Daimios had been notified of the decision of the Mikado and

the Tycoon to break off relations with foreigners from 20th June 1863.

Three days after this notice its purport was confirmed, and a positive

order given to "make military preparations with diligence that the ugly

barbarians may be swept out." This was promptly followed by a third yet

more explicit. "Bearing this in mind" (the date of expulsion, 20th June

1863), "you must omit nothing which is required to complete the maritime

defences of your province, and you must be ready to sweep them off should

they attack you unawares." A liberal interpretation of these imperial

decrees might be held to cover the aggressive proceedings of the most

powerful Daimio in the empire, whose province happened to command its most

important strategic position, and who watched the continual passing of

foreign ships under the guns of his forts. The time when Choshiu commenced

his attacks on passing ships coincided so exactly with the date assigned

by the Mikado for the general rupture with foreigners, that it is hardly

possible to dissociate his act from the scheme of his suzerain. When

subsequently called before the council, Choshiu boldly defied both Tycoon

and Mikado, declaring that he alone had obeyed the imperial mandate, and

deserved gratitude for executing single-handed the law of the empire for

the extermination of foreigners. The rupture was decreed for June 20.

The American steamer Pembroke was fired on on the 25th, being, no doubt,

the first foreign vessel to pass the straits after the 20th. Whatever

ulterior designs this great feudatory may have entertained, therefore, he

was not altogether without provocation in making a raid on the Mikado's

capital, which he did in the month of August following, and for which he

was condemned by his suzerain to a term of seclusion within his palace,

the usual form of punishment of an offending feudatory, which implies much

more than would appear from this mild definition.

On the capture of the forts at Shimonoséki the Government at once stepped

in and assumed all the obligations, pecuniary and other, which the issue

of the collision imposed on the Prince of Nagato. The town of Shimonoséki

had been spared, but held to ransom. A convention was signed whereby the

Tycoon agreed to pay an indemnity of three million dollars, which was

eventually paid in full, the last instalment of it after the fall of the

Shôgunate.

Taking heart of grace from his defeat by foreigners, the Tycoon, if

not the Mikado also, began to coerce Choshiu on his own account. Not

being able to reach him conveniently in his principality, the Tycoon's

Government set to work to destroy his vast establishment at Yedo. The fire

brigade was employed in this work, and such was the extent of it that

several thousand men were said to be engaged for three days in burning

down the buildings and fittings. Moreover, when categorically questioned

by the foreign Minister whether, now that Satsuma and Choshiu had been

brought under control, "the Tycoon would find it possible to give full

effect to the treaties, and to deal with any recalcitrant or rebellious

Daimios," the confidential Minister of the Tycoon replied without

hesitation, "Yes, certainly."

The defeat of the two most warlike of the Daimios illuminated the

situation and cleared the way for more intelligent action all round.

To the Japanese Government it was once for all demonstrated that it was

not by force of arms that the "ugly barbarians" were to be driven from

the country. The foreign fleets were for the time being invincible, and

the Powers had also shown themselves ready not only to act, but to act

together. There was, besides, a strong garrison of foreign troops in

Yokohama--a British force of 1200 men of all arms, with a marked tendency

to increase. The Mikado and the Tycoon wisely acquiesced in the situation,

so far as foreigners were concerned, not necessarily abandoning their

policy, but at any rate deferring its execution.

Their immediate attention was directed to the internal commotions of the

country, which could not now be long in coming to an explosion. A new

planet had intersected their system and upset its balance. There could

be no rest, therefore, until a new equilibrium was found. Foreign forces

chastising the great feudatories, with the tacit acquiescence and for the

benefit of the suzerain, could only be a step either towards dissolution

and subjugation, or towards renaissance and national unity. Feudalism had

had its day and served its turn; it was wholly incompatible with the new

relations which had been imposed on the country by the foreign Powers. But

where is the State, ancient or modern, that could entirely remodel itself,

as it were, on the field of battle and in front of the enemy? That must

remain the proud speciality of Japan.

The effect of the action at Shimonoséki on the position of foreigners

was at once made apparent in various ways. The Tycoon's Government had

laid a secret embargo on raw silk sent to market at Yokohama as part and

parcel of the general imperial design of closing that port, or, in the

alternative, of a gigantic scheme of Government monopoly of the whole

foreign trade, such being the only form of commerce for which the Japanese

officials had any real sympathy. The stoppage had lasted three months.

After Choshiu's defeat the restrictions were at once officially withdrawn,

though considerable efforts were still required to give full effect to the

withdrawal. Once more, also, "the Tycoon resolved to abandon the policy

of equivocation and duplicity," and to inform the Mikado frankly of the

impossibility of closing the port or of refusing to maintain the treaties.

The moment seemed opportune for raising the question of the ratification

of the treaties by the Mikado, in respect to which Sir Rutherford Alcock

made certain plain statements in a letter addressed to the Tycoon in

person. "There exists," he said, "a want of accord on the subject of

foreign relations between the Mikado and Tycoon.... The Mikado, by

requiring the abrogation of treaties, has reduced the Tycoon to the

alternative of either disobeying his legitimate sovereign or bringing

on his country all the calamities of war.... The only solution of the

difficulty that promises either peace or security is the ratification

of the treaties by the Mikado." The four foreign representatives

simultaneously pressed the same consideration on the Government, eliciting

from the Japanese Ministers the admission, "We perfectly agree with you,

it should now take place."

It now became the business of the British Minister to show to his

Government that the proceedings at Shimonoséki fulfilled in every point

the instructions he had received from the Foreign Office. This he did in

a despatch dated September 28, 1864, and so convincingly that Earl Russell

wrote in reply--

Your despatch of the 28th of September is a successful vindication

of the policy you have pursued.... My despatches of the 26th of

July were written with a view to discourage the interruption of a

progressive trade by acts of hostility, and to forbid recourse to

force while the treaty was generally observed. Those despatches,

you will understand, remain in full force.

But the documents you have sent me, which arrived by the last

mail, show that the silk trade was almost wholly interrupted by

the Tycoon, who seemed to be preparing to abet or to abandon the

project of driving out foreigners according to the boldness or

the timidity of our demeanour.

In this position there could be no better course than to punish

and disarm the Daimio Prince Nagato.

That course had these three separate advantages:--

1. It gave the best promise of concurrence of the four Powers,

as France, Holland, and the United States had all been sufferers

from the Prince of Choshiu's violations of treaty, while we were

most exposed to risk and loss by any Japanese attack on Yokohama.

2. It involved proceeding only against a rebellious vassal, and

not against the Mikado or the Tycoon.

3. If the operation should prove successful, the four Powers were

under no obligation to undertake further hostilities unless fresh

provocation should be received.

Her Majesty's Government have received with great satisfaction

the account of the naval operations of the four squadrons, and

their result, contained in your despatch of September 28. Those

operations were conducted in the most gallant manner; the loss was

not considerable; the four Powers acted in harmony together; no

defenceless city suffered during the hostilities; and the terms

granted to the offending Daimio were moderate towards him, and

sufficient for us.

I have only to add, that I am commanded to express to you her

Majesty's full approbation of your conduct.

So far so good. But the slow mail service of those days, and the entire

absence of the telegraph, admitted of wonderful interpolations in

correspondence with such far-off countries as Japan. Events marched

quicker than the course of post could follow them, and despatches were

sometimes written which the writer would have given a good deal to recall.

Such was the case here. We have said that soon after Sir Rutherford

Alcock's return to Japan he addressed some weighty despatches to the

Foreign Office on the situation, undoubtedly leading up to the ultimate

employment of force in vindication of the foreign treaties. This was in

full accord with the spirit of Earl Russell's instructions dated December

17, 1863. These were--

1. To require from the Tycoon and the Daimios the execution of the

engagements of the treaty.

2. To consult the admiral and any military officer who may be sent

to Japan as to the means of strengthening and holding our position

in Yokohama.

3. To endeavour to procure from Hongkong the services of a regiment

of infantry.

4. The admiral to be authorised to land marines and destroy the

batteries which have been erected for the evident purpose of

interrupting the passage of our merchandise, &c.; but he must take

care that no unarmed and peaceable town should be bombarded.

But when the Foreign Secretary received the Minister's despatches of

May, following the terms of these instructions to their only logical

conclusion, he became alarmed at the prospect of active measures, and

by despatch of August 8 he recalled the Minister under the pretext of

the need of a personal consultation on the state of affairs. This was

followed up by some temporising despatches, saying the Inland Sea was of

no consequence; that the Tycoon was professing an intention to do all

that was necessary; and that the Tycoon and Mikado, seeing the British

forces strong though passive, would gradually drop all hostile policy.

How were these vacillating utterances to be reconciled with the position

so decidedly taken up eight months before?

A disturbing influence had intervened, causing Lord Russell to see Japan

at an oblique angle. Certain other brave words of the Foreign Secretary

in that year, 1864, in connection with the Danish Duchies, had also had

their current turned awry and lost the name of action. Japan was but

an echo. Of course, after the definite energetic policy of the Queen's

representative in Japan had proved a brilliant success, had involved no

complications, had, in fact, been the means of temporarily uniting four of

the treaty Powers, Lord Russell was ready enough to make the _amende_ to

Sir Rutherford Alcock, though to have cancelled his order of recall would

have been too frank an admission of error to expect from any statesman.

In this manner was the career of Sir Rutherford Alcock in Japan brought

to an abrupt, but highly honourable, conclusion. He received his letter

of recall while in the act of completing the final convention with the

Tycoon respecting the affair of the Prince of Choshiu. The announcement

was heard in Japan almost with consternation. The Tycoon's Ministers were

particularly grieved about it, and they sent a strongly-worded letter

to Earl Russell to be laid before the Queen, dwelling on the important

services the envoy had rendered to their country, and begging that he

might be sent back to them as soon as the urgent affairs that required

his presence in England had been settled. The mercantile communities of

the treaty ports were no less warm in their commendation of the services

rendered to them and to general commerce by the decided measures adopted

by the Minister, and in their regret at his departure. "The principal

triumph of your success," they said in a farewell address, "lies in

the fact that you have accomplished all this not only without causing a

collision between her Majesty's Government and that of the Tycoon, but

by actually strengthening the Government from which you obtained the

concessions, as well as by acting in such a way as to secure the cordial

co-operation of the foreign Ministers resident at this port."

Admiral Kuper took so serious a view of the loss of a representative

of such unrivalled experience and virility, that he took it on himself

to address to the Minister privately a weighty appeal, on public and

patriotic grounds, to postpone his departure until at least he had time to

refer again to the Foreign Office, which on subsequent information must

certainly take a different view of the action of their Minister. That

the admiral correctly appreciated the attitude of the Foreign Office is

sufficiently shown by Lord Russell's despatches already quoted, and by

that dated January 31, 1865, which concludes, "I shall wish you to return

at once to Yokohama, to perform in Japan such additional meritorious

services as may be expected from your tried ability and long experience."

But Sir Rutherford Alcock did not consider that the episode would have

left him the prestige necessary for further useful service in Japan, and

he declined to return to that country.

Sir Rutherford remained at his post long enough to secure the fulfilment

of the primary objects of the Allied expedition against Choshiu: the

reopening of trade, which had been practically closed both at Yokohama and

Nagasaki, and a number of most important improvements in the conditions

of foreign residence in Yokohama. These comprised a parade-ground and

racecourse, hospitals, slaughter-houses, filling in of swamp, a clear

and convenient site for consular buildings, a good carriage-road seven

miles in circuit, away from the town, and various other extensions of the

comforts of foreign residents.

The ratification of the treaties, too, by the Mikado was virtually

arranged. The very day before Sir Rutherford Alcock embarked for England

he was enabled to report to his Government that the law interdicting

intercourse and putting all foreigners under the ban of outlawry had

been modified, and its hostile provisions repealed. This was considered

tantamount to the Mikado's acknowledgment of the Tycoon's treaties, and

thus the vice of illegality which had attached to them from their origin

was at last removed. A year later the Mikado distinctly and in so many

words approved of the treaties. This, therefore, may fairly be considered

Sir Rutherford Alcock's last service to his country in Japan. It was

not, however, till 1868, after the attack on Sir H. Parkes while on his

way to the palace of the Mikado, that an edict was published, over the

imperial sign manual, decreeing that the lives of foreigners in Japan were

thenceforth to be deemed as sacred as the lives of the subjects of the

empire.

But it would not have been Japan without an assassination to mark the

close of the Minister's eventful career. Two officers of the British

garrison, Major Baldwin and Lieutenant Bird, on an excursion on horseback

to the romantic district of Kamakura, and near the celebrated bronze

statue of Buddha, were stealthily attacked in broad day by a couple of

two-sworded men, and mercilessly cut down. One of them lived late into

the night, spoke, and drank tea, when the assassins, or accomplices

in the crime, paid another visit to the dying man and, as in the case

of Richardson, despatched him with ghastly ferocity. The Tycoon might

truthfully say, "An enemy hath done this"; but the position of the

Government had been so much strengthened by the collapse of Choshiu that

the Tycoon's officers were no longer afraid of pursuing the criminals

and bringing them to justice, especially as they happened to be _ronin_,

or masterless men. "Twelve similar onslaughts," wrote Sir Rutherford,

"have been made on foreigners, and in no one instance has justice had its

due." For "even in the only case where men were executed, the Government

did not venture in exposing their heads to declare their crime, or admit

that it was for an attack upon foreigners." The present case was to

prove an exception to the hitherto unbroken rule. Within a month certain

accomplices in the crime were brought to punishment in Yokohama, and there

one of the principals, who was executed in presence of British officers,

died boasting of his crime and claiming the highest patriotic sanction

for it.

Sir Rutherford and Lady Alcock took their departure from Yokohama on

December 24, 1864.

VII. THE BIRTH OF NEW JAPAN.

Four years of civil strife--Cessation of efforts to eject

foreigners--The adoption of foreign appliances--Educational

missions--Unanimity of Japanese in cultivating foreign

intercourse--The merits of those who promoted the movement--Sir R.

Alcock's services in the cause of Japanese progress--His services

to Japanese art.

"Is this the commencement of a civil war?" wrote the British Minister

during his first year of residence in Japan. When he left the civil war

was well advanced. Feverish energy was being displayed by every party

in the State. There was a race for foreign ships and armaments among

the Daimios; the Tycoon was involved in a struggle for existence; the

legitimate sovereign was asserting his authority, and the feudatories were

rallying to his support. Neither the immediate nor the remote issues were

clear, but the sword was out of the scabbard, and would not be sheathed

again until a new order of things should be established.

The civil strife, which ended within four years in the abolition of

feudalism and the assumption by the Mikado by divine right of all

administrative functions, may be called revolution, restoration, or merely

evolution, according to the point of view from which we regard it. The

hand of the foreigner had loosened the stone from the mountain-side, but

it rolled down by its own laws. The introduction of foreigners into the

country brought down vengeance on the Tycoon as the responsible agent.

To abase him and transfer the sceptre to another house was perhaps as

far as the views of the hostile princes in the first instance extended.

The consummation of the movement in the unification of the State, though

its natural fruit, grew and ripened with a rapidity which bewildered

the lookers-on. From the moment when the goal was descried a profound

unanimity of sentiment urged the leaders towards it, the territorial

magnates being themselves the first to propose the abolition of the

privileges, titles, and responsibilities of their order, which stood

in the way of nationality in the larger sense. But wide and manifold as

were the issues raised in the course of the brief but fierce struggle, it

concerns us chiefly to remember that the avowed impulse which gave the

first impetus to the whole was the passionate purpose of expelling the

foreigner. This was the rallying cry that brought the entire nation into

line. The presence of the foreigner on the soil sacred to the gods was

an insult and a deep humiliation. The manifestoes of the Daimios, their

invective against the Tycoon, the distress of the Mikado and his constant

imploring appeals for help to purge the land of its defilement, testify

to the sincerity and universality of the feeling. In that sentiment there

was no difference between Tycoon and Mikado, the Daimios attached to the

one and those attached to the other: they were only divided as to the time

and the means, the risks and the consequences.

From the first the foreigners had evidence of the tenacious character

of the Japanese: their persistency in face of difficulties and

discouragements, and, above all, their readiness, not only to risk, but

deliberately to sacrifice, their lives in the pursuit of an object. Such

a spirit would render any people formidable,--most formidable when united

in a common purpose; and their genius for combination is one of their

most typical characteristics. What these qualities have already led to

the world has partly seen; what they will hereafter lead to is perhaps as

much hidden from our generation as the phenomena of the present were from

the preceding one. But from the earliest days of the new intercourse it

was hardly possible to misconstrue the seriousness of the Japanese people,

though their refinement of taste, especially in art, their pleasant

vices, and their addiction to light and frivolous recreation, often masked

their more solid qualities. One word may possibly reconcile the seeming

contradiction. They are an intensely vital people, living every part of

their lives earnestly, which, however, is no synonym for solemnly. The

gravest and the gayest have their appointed place in the social system,

whose parts appear to be co-ordinated as if the whole were a direct

inspiration of nature itself, elastic, accommodating, ever renewing

itself, and yet so highly organised that there is no unemployed surplus,

no waste material, nothing that does not find an effective place in the

great cosmic product. That many practical men have misjudged the Japanese

is beyond doubt. Indeed it is the so-called practical men who are the

most apt to misjudge human phenomena, seeing that their system leaves out

of account all they do not understand, which is usually a good deal. It

was long thought that the Japanese were mere copyists and imitators, and

disparaging epithets have been applied to them under that misapprehension.

But, rightly considered, their very imitation was the clearest proof of

their depth. They had been overcome by the foreigner, therefore they

would help themselves to his weapons--all his weapons, educational,

scientific, ethical, and not merely the machinery of war. This was not

imitation, but adaptation and assimilation. It was no more imitation than

what is seen every day among Americans, for instance, who so successfully

"exploit" the ideas of Europe, and improve on them. It gradually dawned

upon the intelligent few who watched the process from the beginning that

the adaptation of European customs and costume was nothing but a strict

application of the laws of evolution. The Japanese began spontaneously

to appropriate ideas from the dress of Europeans; modifications, scarce

perceptible, were adopted at first by servants. Certain malefactors

advertised for by the Yedo police as early as 1862 were described as

wearing "riding trousers and coats of tight foreign fashion." Each article

of attire was adopted on its merits, for convenience and for no other

reason, one of the first items being buttons. Strange combinations were

sometimes seen, such as a billycock hat, or policeman's cast-off coat with

a few buttons left on, surmounting a pair of bare legs shod with wooden

clogs. Such bizarre combinations were not uncommon during the time of

transition. The growing habits of travel necessitated a revolution in the

coiffure. The ancient custom of shaving part of the head and training the

truncated queue required a staff of skilled barbers to accompany every

travelling party. The expense and inconvenience were intolerable, and so

the old head-dressing had to go the way of obsolete things.

The Japanese deliberately resolved to learn every secret thing that any

foreign nation possessed. To do this they had to be conciliatory, so as

to gain access to schools, laboratories, arsenals, factories of every

kind. Japanese swarmed in the workshops of Europe and America; they took

military, naval, mercantile, and industrial service wherever they could

get it.[10] In such pursuits an outlandish costume would have been a

severe handicap, not merely marking them as strangers, but hampering them

for the mechanical work they might be engaged in. To be the comrades of

the foreign workmen they must dress like them, and minimise all personal

peculiarities. It is often said by those who regret the change that

the native dress was so becoming, and that the Japanese looked ever so

much nicer in their own than in foreign garb--which may be true, though

irrelevant. To look nice was not what they were aiming at. They had to

join the family of nations, to become men of the world, to comply with

all civilised observances, and as much as in them lay to avoid attracting

notice to their nationality. Such a programme necessitated adoption of

the common costume of the Western nations, and if we do not accuse German,

French, English, and Americans of being imitators, who for similar reasons

adopt a uniform society habit, why should the Japanese be imitators when

doing the very same thing? Let the world not deceive itself,--there is

something more serious than copying in the development of the Japanese

nationality. Borrowers they have undoubtedly been, and that on a grand

scale. Religion, philosophy, language, literature, art, and artistic

manufacture they took bodily from China, apparently through Korea. But who

shall say they have not improved upon their teachers? That is a kind of

borrowing which may yet carry Japan very far. We should not forget that

even a Shakespeare may be an incorrigible borrower.

From the first appearance of Commodore Perry's "black ships" in 1853

one idea took complete possession of the Japanese ruling classes, and

inspired all their manifestoes. How far the common people were in sympathy

with their rulers there was no evidence available to show. The idea was

that their nation was weak, and in its seclusion had been outstripped by

the nations of the West, and that they must make every exertion to arm

themselves in order to be able to cope with and to expel the barbarians.

All their temporising with the enemy had this end in view, and they

followed it up with such zeal, intelligence, and national harmony, as to

excite both wonder and admiration. In the building up of their nation, and

giving it a status among the military and industrial Powers, the Japanese

freely and extensively employed foreigners in all capacities, dispensing

with their services when done with as naturally as a builder dispenses

with his temporary scaffolding. They used foreigners from the outset,

but have never allowed foreigners to use them. They have thus remained

the masters in their own house, and therein has lain their strength,

present and prospective. Teaching they have recompensed with coin; and

though confidences have been received with courtesy, their own plans and

purposes have been veiled from the most honoured of their tutors. Their

attitude has remained what it was in the days of the Dutch monopoly,

when instruction in Western lore, including naval and military science,

was freely imparted to them, while the uses to which it was applied were

studiously hidden from the teachers. Though the Dutch, for example, taught

the Japanese mathematics and triangulation so successfully that the pupils

were able to make accurate surveys and construct maps of the country and

charts of its sea-coasts, yet the Dutch were never permitted to see the

finished result.

In looking back on the work of those foreign Governments and their

agents who by their interference shook this new nation into life, it is

obvious that they did not, any of them, know what they were doing. There

was a divinity shaping their ends which they, with their conventional

concessions to the modern spirit, had no idea of. If we are to pass

judgment at all on those men, it must not be by the ulterior consequences

which they did not and could not foresee, but on the merits of the

problem which immediately presented itself to them. The demand for free

intercourse with Japan being shared by all the nations of Christendom

was bound to be satisfied one day: it was but a question of a favourable

opportunity. Commodore Perry and the United States Government made their

opportunity. Townsend Harris had his opportunity made for him, and with

great adroitness, and not too much scruple, he took advantage of it to

force the half-open door. Lord Elgin, in his turn, did a smart thing in

sandwiching in a full treaty with Japan between his earlier and later

negotiations with China. Each in his degree contributed to the general

result without any apparent sense of responsibility for unsettling an

ancient polity of which they were ignorant, and to which they were blind.

Lord Elgin was indeed visited by the qualms of conscience which were as

natural to him as they were honourable, but the particular consequences

of which he had a passing dread were not those which followed. In any

case, his act was momentary: its results remained to be dealt with by

those who came after. The heat and burden of the day fell upon those who

had to "stub the Thurnaby waste" which the cavaliers had gaily cantered

round,--to reduce theories and compliments to everyday practice. Here was

not only a labour but a responsibility, not of the attenuated abstract

order, but one which was apt to knock violently at their door every

morning and every night. For whatever might be the remote effects, the

immediate issues were always urgent, and what a conscientious man had to

do was to shape a daily course among unknown rocks and whirlpools such

as would eventually lead to a successful ocean voyage. It is surely a

test of good pilotage in such emergencies that no step need be retraced;

that to whatever extent temporary exigencies may hasten or retard, they

should never deflect the general movement from its true direction; that

the years achievement should be homogeneous with the day's doings. It is

a test which would eliminate the time-server from political life, but it

was in all important particulars well responded to in the short career of

Sir Rutherford Alcock in Japan.

It would be idle to conjecture the probable course of events had a

different spirit prevailed among the first diplomatic representatives

in Japan. Had they been a weak and yielding body, or had they been

connected with the bureaux of their respective Governments by electric

wire; still more, had each step taken by them formed a bone of contention

between opposing factions in their legislatures, all alike ignorant of

the situation, the proceedings of the Ministers would not only have been

deprived of all initiative, but would have been liable to paralysis at

every critical moment. Under such conditions foreign policy in Japan

would have been like driftwood in a whirlpool; the forces of reaction must

have gained courage; the position of foreigners would have been rendered

untenable; and what might have happened in the country itself it would,

as we have said, be quite idle to imagine. In those days no Power would

have interfered to maintain order or to defend treaties had England held

aloof. There is no need to carry hypothesis further than this in order

to appreciate the good fortune not only of Great Britain herself, but of

Japan and the world, in having as pioneer representative a man so alert,

so capable, so clear, and with such unshakable nerve as Sir Rutherford

Alcock; for it is the man on the spot in distant countries who shapes

the policy of his Government, if it is to have a policy at all, and this

historic service the first Minister sent to Japan did effectually render

to his country. Amid difficulties unprecedented, emergencies incessant,

and an elemental strife ever raging, the terms of which were inscrutable,

two immutable principles guided the Minister to a clear issue. The first

was duty, at all costs and hazards; the second, the integrity of the

treaties. Whatever might be argued about the policy or the ethics of

making them, once made, retreat from their engagements was impossible

and compromise futile. Matters had to be pushed to an issue. The whole

term of Sir Rutherford Alcock's service in Japan was filled up with

a warfare against the temptation to temporise in the hope that things

would be better,--a temptation to which, as we have seen, her Majesty's

Government for a time succumbed. In perplexing situations the best solvent

is simplicity, and the Minister found his safety in directness of aim and

inflexibility of purpose. Standing on that rock, the mystifications with

which he was surrounded lost their power to disturb him. "Fortunately,"

he wrote to Earl Russell, "whether the Tycoon was playing a comedy or

not, the course plainly indicated is the same, the assertion of a fixed

determination not to be driven out, and to maintain the rights secured

under treaties, by force, if all other means fail."

To the man who perceived and successfully carried out this simple rule of

action his countrymen owe no common debt.

As it is proverbially the busiest people who have the most leisure, the

British Minister found time in the midst of his harassing labours to

employ his æsthetic gifts for the benefit of the public. It fell to his

lot, as the reader may remember, while consul in Shanghai, to contribute

samples of the art, industry, and natural products of China to the

Great Exhibition of 1851, neither the native Government nor the foreign

mercantile community being sufficiently interested to assist in the

work. A similar service was asked of him in Japan for the Exhibition of

1862, and it was performed under similar conditions, neither the native

Government nor the foreign residents taking any part in it. The task

had a special fascination for Sir Rutherford, for Japanese art was a new

and rich field for the student as for the dilettante. The Japanese had

originally borrowed their whole art, with their literature and religion,

from China, but they had improved or at least transformed it so much as

to make it their own, though it is contended that in ceramics they had

never succeeded in overtaking the Chinese. For five hundred years they

had worked on the Chinese idea; but at last in the eleventh century A.D.

native schools sprang up, and thenceforth Japanese artists followed their

own inspiration, which was that of nature, producing, in the fulness of

time, the exquisite results with which the world is now so familiar.

The introduction of this Japanese work to the connoisseurs of Europe

through the London Exhibition of 1862 was effected through the personal

exertions of Sir Rutherford Alcock, who added immensely to the obligations

under which he laid his countrymen by the publication in 1878 of a short

but comprehensive work on 'Art and Art Industries of Japan.' Like the

collecting of objects for the Exhibition, the writing of this book was

evidently a labour of love. It reviews with a sympathy which almost

rises to enthusiasm not only the finished product, but the stages of the

evolution of Japanese art, having its origin in a loving fellowship with

nature and in a special affinity with what may be called its humorous

side. The genius of Japan has taken a different form from that of the

West, where "the great works of the sculptor and the painter are seen by

but few," whereas the art work of Japan, "which is always in sight, tends

to cultivate the taste of the million by bringing constantly before their

eyes objects of taste, not less effective because they are unconsciously

felt and enjoyed." It is art pressed into the service of the life of the

people "which can give a priceless value to the commonest and least costly

material by the mere impress of genius and taste, ... which is the most

precious, tested by any true estimate of value and utility." The volume

is well worth perusal by those who are interested in art, not only for

its philosophical yet simple analysis of the subject generally, but for

the instructive way in which universal principles are adapted to the

popularised art of Japan. To read this book, one would imagine the writer

had devoted the whole of the three years and a half he spent in Japan to

the cultivation of the industrial fine arts.

The Japanese language, too, attracted the interest of the busy Minister,

who during his stay in Yedo brought out a grammar and phrase-book in

Japanese and English. They have, as a matter of course, been superseded by

the more recondite studies of later students; but as a first step towards

familiarising the language to visitors and strangers these introductory

works cannot be denied their meed of merit.

VIII. THE DIPLOMATIC BODY--TSUSHIMA.

Four Western Powers represented in Tokio--Russia only in

Hakodate by consul--And naval officers--Cordial Anglo-French

relations--Temptations to intrigue--Secret communications to

Japanese--Representatives of the Powers arousing suspicions

of each other's designs--Letters cited--The Tsushima

incident--Admiral Sir James Hope obtains its evacuation by

Russians.

During the first few years there were four representatives of the

Western Powers resident in or near the Tycoon's capital: they were the

Ministers of Great Britain, the United States, France, and Holland.

Russia had accredited no Minister, but intrusted her interests to the

very capable hands of M. Goskavitch, consul at Hakodate, the treaty port

in the northern island of the Japanese group. What was no doubt deemed

of at least equal importance, she maintained a powerful squadron on the

western coast of Japan, whose actual strength was magnified to the view

by their incessant activity, which had the character of a continuous

demonstration on the coast both of China and Japan; and the principle of

direct action by naval officers without the medium of diplomacy, at the

ports of Nagasaki and Hakodate, was so different from that of any other

Power, that the Daimios declared to the Tycoon that any of the foreigners

could be safely insulted except the Russians. Their manœuvres in force

round Hongkong, meaningless to the ordinary professional or political

eye, played probably a corroborative part in the impressions they were

making on the rulers of the neighbouring countries. Prussia had not yet

come effectually on the scene when the decisive operations against the two

great Daimios, which really determined the future course of events, were

undertaken.

The relations of the resident foreign Ministers among themselves

were marked by substantial harmony, in some instances rising to great

cordiality. The foreign diplomatic body thus presented a united front to

the forces, open or covert, that were opposed to them. Such differences of

opinion as arose in the course of business either were not of a nature, or

were not allowed, to interfere with the pursuit of the national interests

of each, which were inextricably bound up in the common interests of all.

United, the influence of the Powers was practically irresistible; divided,

they would have fallen an easy prey to the devices of what, for want of

another term, must be spoken of as the common enemy, Japan. It is not

pleasant to think of Japan in this way, since she was on her defence in

a position forced upon her; yet overruling circumstances had, in fact,

placed the parties in temporary antagonism--the world against Japan.

The key to the success of European diplomacy of the earlier period was

without doubt the Anglo-French alliance, which had culminated in the

coercion of imperial China, and was spending its ebbing strength in

suppressing the great Taiping insurrection against that empire. Being

possessed of mobile forces within call, the two Powers were always in a

position to act when circumstances called for action, and they had become

accustomed to co-operation. Hence the potency of their united counsels.

The Minister of France as well as the admiral on the station had the

instructions of the Imperial Government to support England in her Far

Eastern policy,--"for," said the calculating Emperor Napoleon III.,

"though our interests in that part of the world are trivial, we may find

our account in the friendship of England in quarters where our interests

are vital." That the Ministers of the two countries, therefore, should be

on terms of official intimacy and mutual confidence was only natural, and

it was a tower of strength to them both. But we gather from the despatches

that personal respect and attachment went hand in hand with the official

_liaison_; and whether it was Sir Rutherford Alcock or Colonel Neale on

the one side, or M. Duchesne de Bellecourt or Leon Roche on the other,

their expressions towards their colleagues were always of the warmest.

So completely confidential were their relations, that when something was

insinuated by third parties which, if credited, would have necessitated

explanations between the two, it was simply dismissed as unworthy of

consideration. There were not wanting those who would have regarded with

equanimity a little more coldness between the Allied colleagues.

For, notwithstanding their good fraternal relations, it cannot be said

that the foreign officials in Japan were uniformly successful in resisting

the besetting sin of diplomacy, the common temptation to intrigue. In

certain cases it was resorted to as the natural means of advancing the

solid interests of a particular country; in other cases, where no national

interest could be served by it, it would appear that intrigue was its own

allurement, followed for the mere pleasure of the game. The political

situation in Japan was sufficiently complicated to afford occasion for

both these motives of action. The unstable Government of the country,

oppressed by conflicting obligations and consciously struggling for

existence, offered an ideal theatre for volunteer experimentation by those

on whom no ulterior responsibility rested.

Be that as it may, however, secret communications did pass between certain

foreign officials and the Japanese Government of a kind which betrayed the

design of undermining the interests of other Powers and frustrating their

policy, presumably for the benefit of those whose zeal in the cause of

international honour impelled them to adopt the _rôle_ of international

informers. It need hardly be said that Great Britain was a principal

object of these occult practices; neither need it be denied that she

suffered from their effects in the estimation of the Japanese Government,

which was naturally credulous of any disparagement of the Powers it

dreaded so much. In the incandescent condition of the intercourse of those

earlier years, had any of the foreign agents spoken well of his neighbours

he would have obtained no hearing for his praise; but given vilification

for its motive, the representation would find its way straight to the

Japanese heart, since nothing could be too vile to be believed of the

intentions of any of the foreign nations. The spy system was congenial

to the Japanese, woven into their whole administration; while as regards

foreigners, they had had ample experience centuries before of the lengths

Christian nations would go in traducing each other for the sake of gaining

a little favour of the rulers of Japan. It was entirely in keeping with

their medieval experiences that these dastardly barbarians should now

be ready to stab each other in the back. Whatever reception, therefore,

on other grounds, might be accorded to gratuitous information conveyed

through prejudiced channels, no surprise was occasioned by it, and as

little doubt of its truth, so long as its burden was evil. This much has

to be borne in mind as a tribute to the intelligence of the writers of

letters such as the following, addressed to the Gorogiu, or Bureau of

Foreign Affairs, and conveyed to them with ostentatious secrecy. In 1860

one Government agent wrote--

Last year towards the middle of the second month the English

created great difficulties in China in consequence of the war

they waged by sea and land. They had violated the treaties in

a shameful manner, and as this excited the indignation of the

Chinese they attacked the English on the river, and captured three

men-of-war. Feeling herself humbled by this defeat, England swore

revenge. She uttered the most unjust menaces against China, and

at the very moment the Chinese commenced their conferences upon

this subject four or five months ago the English suddenly ordered

forty-seven men-of-war from London. These vessels are at present

at Chusan, and await the signal for action. Within two or three

months the men-of-war will leave for the north. The merchant

vessel Dayspring brought us all this news on the 12th instant.

On speaking about this important news to Mr ----, the British

Consul residing here, he gave me the following information in a

strictly private manner.

"At last," said Mr ----, "the war with China is decided upon.

We have for a long time been searching for a good harbour where

we shall be able to put the sick and wounded. We have chosen

Tsushima, where we intend to send the sick and wounded, and as

soon as the war has commenced we have resolved to take possession

of that island."

Mr ---- communicated this to me as a great secret, and I now give

you this information in a strictly private manner.

You will perceive that this is a question of the utmost

importance, and you must take it into serious consideration

without delay, and with the utmost attention.

Four years ago the English, who had for a long time coveted

an excellent little island called Perim, took possession of

it, informing the Turkish Government that they only wished to

place their invalids on that island, and this false pretext was

matter for serious discussion. The Turks were perfectly aware of

the deceitful conduct of the English. They did not ignore that

fourteen or fifteen years before, while fighting with the Chinese,

the English had stolen Hongkong under the same pretences.... But

while they were deliberating the English sent their invalids to

Perim, and immediately built forts and stole this island in the

most disgraceful manner.

As the English are wonderful impostors, it is your duty not only

to take care of Tsushima, but also of the smallest island in your

empire: this must be done with the utmost watchfulness.

I inform you of this danger in the most private and secret manner.

And a year or two later, when the intercourse between the British Minister

and the Tycoon was charged with contentious, almost with explosive,

matter, missives were passed in from philanthropic onlookers of a tenor

which excited no surprise, but a good deal of genuine exultation, in the

minds of the Japanese Ministers. It was well known some time before that

it had been sought to prevent a settlement of outstanding difficulties

between the two countries by the assurance volunteered to the Tycoon's

Government that Great Britain was quite unable to make war on Japan,

and the following letter is only one of a series of such international

amenities which shunned the light of day:--

Japan was opened by us, ... and after we had settled down here

the other Powers made their appearance. The intentions of ...

in opening this country to foreign intercourse was to increase

the welfare and prosperity of its inhabitants. While we were

doing our utmost for this nation some English men-of-war suddenly

appeared here to demand indemnities for a murder which, although

unjustifiable, was not a _casus belli_. As long as the ambitious,

warlike, and quarrelsome Englishmen are here, the object we have

in view cannot be obtained. They must, therefore, be driven out

of this country. You cannot consent to their demands. Do not

fear the English; there are other nations in Japan, and if you

require assistance you may rest assured we shall give you moral

and material support.

But in vain was the snare set by these fowlers in the sight of the bird.

The notion of setting a thief to catch a thief was not uncongenial to

Japanese habits of thought, but a generous offer of armed assistance

against a foreign Power savoured too much of the wooden horse even for

such inexperienced internationalists as the New Japan. Having expressed

their appreciation--had it been the Chinese Government it would have taken

the form of praise for their loyal obedience--the Government intimated

that they would exhaust their own resources before putting these friendly

foreign Powers to the trouble of intervening on their behalf. The Japanese

have always been wary about accepting help unasked for. The United States

frigate Niagara, which brought back the envoys in 1860, brought also a

staff of artillery officers whose services were tendered to the Tycoon,

but declined. And it was said the American officers were rather astonished

by the proofs afforded them in Yedo of the efficiency of armament and

proficiency of the gunners which Japan was already able to show.

One of the vigilant observers of political portents about that time became

convinced that the French had designs upon Tsushima, a belief which was

no doubt in some way also communicated to the Japanese Government; but

by that time--1863--it was too late for any Power to flirt with that

"excellent little island," for since the first warning given the Japanese

in 1860, above cited, the island had been made the subject of definitive

arrangements. The incident itself, though of brief duration and leaving

no visible trail behind it, nevertheless deserves to be remembered as a

landmark of history.

When Count Mouravieff was in Yedo in 1859, he took the trouble to warn

the Tycoon's Government that the English harboured aggressive designs

against the island of Tsushima, which is a long double or "twin" island,

possessing wonderful harbours, and situated midway between the main

island of Japan and the southern coast of Korea. On March 13, 1861, the

Russians landed from the corvette Possadnik in Tsushima, and saying their

ship wanted repairs, began to build houses on shore. Captain Birileff had

forced the Prince of Tsushima to receive him at his capital, which created

an intense feeling of indignation, especially in the ranks of the nobles,

who each saw himself exposed to similar intrusions. The Daimio repeatedly

requested the Russians to leave, but was always told the ship required

further repairs. In consequence of reports from his own officers and the

Japanese Government, Vice-Admiral Sir James Hope looked in at Tsushima

himself in the month of August, and observing what was going on there,

he addressed a letter to Captain Birileff, of which the substance was as

follows: The prolonged stay of his Imperial Majesty's corvette Possadnik,

the erection of buildings, &c., having created alarm in Yedo, the admiral

had the intention to communicate on the subject as early as possible

with Commodore Likatchoff. Would Captain Birileff meantime facilitate

this correspondence by replying to the questions--(1) Should the Japanese

Government appeal to the treaty, which conveys no right either to create

establishments ashore, to survey the Japanese coast without Government

sanction, or even to enter a non-treaty port except in case of necessity,

would Captain Birileff's orders admit of his leaving Tsushima immediately

on the request of the Japanese authorities? (2) Was it Captain Birileff's

intention to leave Tsushima in October as previously stated to Commander

Ward, leaving the buildings to whomsoever wanted them?... (3) Had the

captain orders to create a permanent establishment there?

The reply of Captain Birileff was to the effect that the officers of his

Imperial Majesty were accountable only to their own chiefs; ... that he

was quite astonished to hear of the alarms in Yedo, seeing that only two

months before the Prince of Bungo had been sent to Tsushima expressly

from Yedo to grant permission to the corvette to remain there; that the

same prince gave him the opportunity of visiting the Prince of Tsushima,

who was instructed to supply workmen and all that might be necessary

for the construction of the buildings in question; that if the Japanese

Government were annoyed by the surveying operations, they should address

their complaint to the Russian diplomatic agent; that he had no orders

for the occupation of the island, and the nature of the buildings which

the admiral had done him the honour to visit would not show any such

intention; and finally, that when he spoke of leaving in October it had

referred only to himself personally. So far Captain Birileff.

It was no "Prince of Bungo," but a Governor of Foreign Affairs named

Bungo, who had been despatched in haste from the capital to endeavour by

any means to induce the Russians to leave Tsushima, and was, for his want

of success, disgraced.

Sir James Hope forthwith proceeded in search of Commodore Likatchoff to

Olga Bay, whence he addressed to him a letter dated September 5, pointing

out the irregularity of the proceedings at Tsushima, the bad effect they

were having on the relations of foreigners generally in Yedo, and that he

could not recognise any establishment on Japanese territory not sanctioned

by treaty--which resolutions he would make known to the authorities

concerned.

To this the Russian commodore courteously replied from Hakodate, September

23, excusing himself from entering on any international questions, and

pointing out that in their hydrographical labours the Russians were only

following the excellent example set them by the British surveying officers

whom they met on their respective missions, and that no complaint had ever

been made by the Japanese Government. As for the "absurd rumours" alluded

to, the Possadnik had already received orders for another destination,

before receipt of the admiral's letters, and nothing consequently need be

said to calm the doubts and alarms, "si même elles auraient véritablement

raison d'exister."

Admiral Hope acknowledged this letter, "with much satisfaction," from

Chefoo, October 22, and remarked that, so far as the surveying operations

of the ships in his squadron were concerned, they were carried out with

the full consent of the Japanese Government, at whose special request

Japanese officers and interpreters were accommodated on board during

the whole of the cruise. He added that it was not so much the surveying

operations of the Possadnik as the preparation for a permanent settlement

on shore that disquieted the Japanese Government; and, moreover, that

the Japanese Ministers had distinctly stated that the matter had been

the subject of remonstrance to the commodore, through M. Goskavitch,

the consul at Hakodate, and to Captain Birileff by an officer specially

deputed for the purpose (Bungo).

The question extended itself to St Petersburg, where Prince Gortchakoff

had remarked to Lord Napier, then British ambassador, on the tone of

Admiral Hope's letter to Commodore Likatchoff, which, he said, but for

the conciliatory disposition of the latter, might have led to serious

misunderstanding. Lord Napier, in reply, observed that "Admiral Hope was

a man of a frank, downright, energetic character, who used the language

natural to him without any intention of giving offence."

As the Russians had abandoned the island, Prince Gortchakoff called

on Lord Napier to declare that the English would never take possession

of Tsushima, whereupon the ambassador reminded his Excellency that the

English had "offered to sign a treaty binding ourselves and the other

Powers having engagements with Japan to make no acquisitions in those

seas." "I think," concludes the ambassador in his letter to the Foreign

Office, "that Admiral Hope will do well to assure himself that the

buildings have really been evacuated." This precaution had already been

taken, and the admiral reported on November 10 that the Russians had

evacuated on September 29.

There the incident ended, but not its historical significance.

IX. TRADE AND TRADERS.

Commerce increases in spite of adverse political

situations--And of efforts of Japanese government to repress

it--The _personnel_ of the mercantile community--British

predominance--Relations of merchants to Ministers--Interests

and duties not always identical--Sumptuary laws--Discharges of

firearms forbidden--Seizure of Mr Moss--Wounding of a Japanese

policeman--Trial and sentence of Mr Moss--His liberation in

Hongkong--Sues the Minister and obtains damages--Legal supremacy

at Hongkong--Defects of the consular jurisdiction--The recreation

of shooting.

These fierce struggles, the sudden arousing to intensity of dormant

passions, the dislocation of the whole structure of Japanese polity,

represented to the foreign nations merely the risks and sacrifices

incidental to the expansion of their commerce. In order to compel the

Government to permit the people to exchange the products of their soil for

the merchandise of the strangers within their gates, the labour, anxiety,

and expense which we have only faintly indicated were voluntarily incurred

by the Western treaty Powers, and by them in turn forced on the reluctant

rulers of Japan. An _a priori_ judgment of the probable effect of the

sanguinary conditions into which official intercourse had been thrown

would probably have concluded that peaceful commerce could not under such

circumstances exist. The restrictions resulting from an ill-regulated

currency, and from the direct interference of the Government, might have

been deemed sufficient of themselves to check the development of trade.

When to these inimical influences were superadded the further facts that

the foreign traders went in peril of their lives, that the communities

of Nagasaki and Yokohama were at different times in such danger that

provisional arrangements were made for conveying them, bag and baggage, on

board ship, a condition of things less favourable to international traffic

could scarcely be conceived. Yet these difficulties, and a score of others

which could be enumerated, served only to bring into clear recognition

the inherent vitality of commerce, which, like running water, finds its

way through or round almost any obstacle. There were, on the other hand,

circumstances favourable to trade. In Japan, as has been already hinted,

the traders of the country had neither part nor lot in the strife that

raged above and around them, and for the most part they could pursue their

peaceful avocations without fear or hindrance. So the quality of commerce

was not strained; but, shedding its benefits on buyer and seller alike,

it grew from small beginnings till it attained to a volume of world-wide

importance, accumulating momentum as it progressed.

The total amount of foreign trade was a little over one million sterling

per annum for the first three years of the open ports. In the fourth year,

1863, the development of Japanese produce, especially the more precious

commodities, silk and the eggs of the silkworm, began to tell on the gross

values, and the exports for that year amounted to two and a half millions

sterling, the imports of foreign goods being £811,000. The year 1864,

notwithstanding its crowded events of anti-commercial character, witnessed

a notable advance in the value of foreign trade, which in that year

doubled itself. The same thing occurred again in 1865, when the figures

reached a total of eight millions sterling, being double the returns for

1864.

Thus the foreign trade of Japan had fairly established itself as "a going

concern," advancing in war and peace, but with great fluctuations and many

vicissitudes to those engaged in it. From the purely commercial standpoint

the result justified the anticipations of the Powers who opened Japan to

the world. The event proved that when the materials of trade exist there

trade is sure to follow on the removal of obstructions. And the materials

of trade are not wanting wherever there is a population that wears clothes

and builds houses.[11]

It is obvious to remark that had it been in the power of the Japanese

Government to place an effective interdict on foreign commerce at its

sources within their own jurisdiction, and beyond the reach of treaty

obligations, it would have been the surest means of causing the withdrawal

of foreigners from the country. That the Government had the will to do so

was shown by their repeated partial attempts at preventing produce from

reaching the open ports, and even inducing a temporary exodus therefrom

of the native population. Why their measures of repression were not more

thorough may be conjectured to have been connected with the circumstance

that the advantages of the foreign trade soon began to be felt in quarters

with which it was not convenient for the Tycoon to inter-meddle.

As in China, so in Japan, the relations of the merchants to their

official representatives exercised a certain influence on events. The

trade was carried on at first by a very small number of people. In 1861

there were not 200 foreign residents in all the ports of Japan, the

British nationality predominating in Yokohama, the Dutch at Nagasaki.

The British residents in the former port seem to have numbered about

fifty. It was a small body to carry the burden of inaugurating commercial

intercourse with an empire of thirty millions of people. Nor was it

individually a community of any particular weight, being mostly composed

of young men, not themselves principals, but, in the beginning at least,

a considerable number of them occupying the position of delegates of

mercantile houses in China. It was their representative character which

lent importance to the foreign merchants in Japan. They represented,

first of all, the establishments of which they were subordinates or

offshoots; they represented their respective nations; and they, in

a larger sense, represented the commercial creed of Christendom. The

present sketch would be wanting in symmetry if no account were taken

of the relationship of these handfuls of traders to their own national

authorities, both being engaged in the struggle for the development and

security of commerce under the trying conditions of the time and country.

But of course any such inquiry practically limits itself to those of

British nationality, for two reasons: British trade and British diplomacy

were pre-eminently representative of all others by the preponderance of

the interests involved; in addition to which, the strong individuality

and matured experience of the first British envoy were such that his

colleagues tacitly assigned to him the leading _rôle_, so that his was the

personality which exerted the dominant influence in shaping events from

the opening of the ports.

The tendency to divergence of view between the merchants and their

official representatives has already been remarked upon in connection with

affairs in China: it was most pronounced in times of difficulty such as

were chronic for more than twenty years in Canton, where it was so acute

at one time that English Chambers of Commerce made formal complaint to the

Foreign Office that its representative in China--Sir John Davis--refused

to see the merchants in Canton, who desired to present their views to him

in time of danger. The antagonism was natural: it is generically the same

that one hears constantly in this country in the form of complaints and

criticisms of Government, Government servants, and generally of all in

authority--with, however, this difference, that in the many-sided life of

a large society there are buffers between the critics and the criticised.

They do not meet face to face unless it be in such circumstances as on

the floor of "the House" with "a substantial piece of furniture" between;

whereas in nascent communities composed of a few scores of individuals,

where there is no tempering medium, where the parties are never out

of each other's sight, differences are apt to become accentuated like

village scandals. Nothing escapes censure; the smallest indiscretions

have a magnifying lens constantly applied to them, and a sinister colour

is given to innocent trifles. Interests are not diversified, shaded

off, or balanced as in adult nations, but are narrow, concentrated, and

highly sensitive. Between Minister and merchants there was of course a

general identity of interest. They had a common test to apply to all

their proceedings and aspirations, the furtherance of commerce. The

official would, perhaps, add the qualifying adjective "legitimate," in the

interpretation of which differences of opinion might arise; and he would

naturally give a wider scope to the commercial idea than those actually

engaged in trade could or ought to do.

The Minister represents the interests of Great Britain as a whole; the

merchants represent trade generally, but each of them his own interests

particularly, and these various interests cannot always coincide. An

Englishman would naturally give a preference to the manufactures of his

own country, but as a merchant he has to study the requirements of the

country in which he trades, and if he cannot supply them at all, or so

well, by articles manufactured in his own country, he is obliged to seek

them elsewhere. Officials are apt to look askance on this as not fostering

the trade of Great Britain; and while recognising the necessity, the fact

does not warm their sympathy for the merchants of their own country. There

are times also when, from the international point of view, the general

interests of the country may override the special interests of the small

British community in Japan. If policy requires intimate relations between

the Governments, the tendency must inevitably be for the British Minister

to minimise the just causes of complaint of his countrymen in order to

avoid irritation. But the sufferers can hardly be expected to appreciate

sacrifices so forced on them; and so from one cause and another there will

never be wanting grounds of dissatisfaction, and possibly estrangement.

But the ultimate object being definitely agreed upon between the two

parties, there would still remain room for variance in the means,

questions of tactics, of the nearer or the further view, of the present

generation and the next, and so on _ad infinitum_. Where there was a

third party influencing and opposing legitimate commerce by direct or

indirect means, as the Government of China or Japan, whose machinations

called for strong measures of resistance, the occasions of impatience and

dissatisfaction would be frequent, and friction between the representative

and his constituents would naturally result. But perhaps the most

antagonistic of all to harmony was the fact already pointed out, that in

extra-territorialised countries like China and Japan the representatives

of the treaty Powers were necessarily intrusted with exceptional authority

over the persons of their nationals--for they had to assume the functions

denied to the native Governments, of giving the law to the settlers and

punishing evil-doers. What an invidious and onerous position this entailed

on British officials will presently be shown. Yet it was a temporary

necessity, for which nobody was blamable.

In treating of the period of the consulship in Shanghai, a certain

distance or aloofness between Consul Alcock and the community of his

nationals was remarked upon, due to difference of age, taste, culture, or

temperament. This characteristic was rather accentuated than otherwise

by the local circumstances of Japan. The Minister was ten years older,

while the community was about as much younger than in Shanghai, so

that the disparity of age was increased. The mere conditions of life

also placed a material gulf between the diplomatic representatives in

Yedo and the lay residents of Yokohama. The capital city being closed

to all but the diplomatic body, visitors not only required a pass from

one of the Ministers, but, in the absence of available accommodation,

strangers had to rely on the hospitality of the foreign Legations. The

curiosity to see Yedo, which in the early days so attracted tourists

and travellers, threw a heavy and most unfair burden of entertainment on

the Ministers, the principal victim of these birds of passage being of

course the representative of Great Britain. So long, therefore, as the

Legations remained in Yedo the barrier was effectual against personal

intercourse between the Ministers and the permanent residents in Yokohama,

even had mutual affinity been stronger than it was. Like most things,

this local separation between the communities and their representative

had its advantages and disadvantages. While on the one hand it was not

conducive to intimacy, on the other the risk of personal friction was

eliminated by it. Nor was direct intercourse at all necessary in the

conduct of business, seeing the regular official medium of communication

was the local consuls, who had nothing of the Olympian about them, and

were felt by the residents to be men of like passions with themselves,

with easy manners, the spirit of good fellowship, and imbued with the

characteristic sporting proclivities of Englishmen at home and abroad,

always an effective bond of sympathy.

The relations of Sir Rutherford Alcock with the mercantile community

had not been very happily inaugurated, for he clearly felt officially

aggrieved by their settling in Yokohama, instead of waiting till

accommodation could be found for them in Kanagawa; so much so, indeed,

that he seemed almost to deplore the absence of means of coercing them

into obedience to his will.

While the sore as to the location of the settlement was still somewhat

raw, the Minister found yet another grievance against the merchants

in the fabulous demands for Japanese coins which a few of them had put

forward, by way of burlesquing the system of distribution by the native

authorities. The severity with which this schoolboyish escapade was

pilloried, and the community of Yokohama held up to the opprobrium of

the world, was felt by them as going beyond what the merits of the case

warranted, and the incident did not tend to mollify acerbities on either

side.

A year later evidence of a certain widening of the breach became more

conspicuous in the course of a rather exceptional lawsuit, in which a

merchant was heavily mulcted for an offence of which the general opinion

was that he was not guilty. A certain Mr Moss was arrested, cruelly

maltreated, and hidden from his official protector, the consul, by a posse

of Japanese police, for having shot game in the vicinity of Kanagawa.

When faced by these armed men, Mr Moss cocked his gun and threatened

any one who should approach to lay hands on him. The party was numerous

enough to surround and wrest the gun from him, which somehow went off,

wounding one of the men badly in the arm. The Minister ordered the consul

to prosecute Mr Moss for murder, in the Queen's name, the consul himself

being judge, sitting with two assessors. The accused was sentenced to pay

a fine of 1000 dollars (£225) and to be deported from Japan. The assessors

dissented, on the ground that the Japanese evidence was falsified to

order, and that the prisoner was in their opinion innocent of the charge

on which he was tried. In consequence of this dissent the judgment had

to be referred to the Minister, who added to the consul's sentence three

months' imprisonment in Hongkong, whither the culprit was conveyed in a

British ship of war. After a week's incarceration in the Hongkong jail the

warrant for imprisonment was found defective, and Mr Moss was released.

He was then advised to bring an action against Sir Rutherford Alcock in

the Supreme Court at Hongkong, which occupied twelve months, and ended

in a jury awarding damages against the Minister for false imprisonment,

that being the only part of the sentence which could be brought within

the jurisdiction of the Hongkong court. As regards the original sentence

of fine and deportation, the Foreign Office, by advice of their law

officers, had long before quashed the conviction and ordered the fine to

be remitted.

A parallel case had occurred in Canton in 1846. Sir John Davis instructed

the consul there to levy a fine on a British subject for an alleged

offence. Whether just or not, it was illegal, and on appeal to the Supreme

Court in Hongkong, of which colony Sir John Davis himself was governor,

the judgment of the consul was reversed, and the fine of 200 dollars

refunded. Even Sir Frederick Bruce, with all his circumspection, did

not escape falling into the same error with regard to the division of

legal authority between himself and the Supreme Court. "From a careful

perusal of ... her Majesty's Order in Council," he writes, "the chief

superintendent of trade [himself] in cases arising under this section is

the Supreme Court in China: it is for him to prescribe to the consul the

course he is to pursue, and the Supreme Court at Hongkong cannot interfere

in such matters." Her Majesty's Government, however, replied: "You fall

into an error by confounding two distinct questions.... You are mistaken

in treating the question which you have referred to them for decision as

depending upon the 4th and following articles of the Order in Council,"

and so on. So that had it fallen to his lot to give a decision involving

a penalty, he would have been sued not before himself, but before the

Supreme Court at Hongkong, and would have sustained the same reverse as

Sir Rutherford Alcock had done.

These bald facts of the case supplied a striking illustration of the vices

of the consular court system, which was in vogue in China for twenty years

until the establishment of the Supreme Court for China and Japan in 1865.

Consuls were called upon to exercise judicial functions, and Ministers

those of Courts of Appeal, without the slightest preparatory training,

and as often as not without natural aptitude. In criminal cases they were

at once prosecutors and judges, it might even be executioners as well.

The state of conflict in which they lived with the native authorities, of

whom they were accustomed to demand in vain the punishment of malefactors,

placed British officers under continual temptation to prove how promptly

they could bring to justice their own nationals accused of offences

against the natives. This idea of giving object-lessons to Chinese and

Japanese pervades the consular and diplomatic records. English officials

seem to have been oppressed with the reflection of what the natives would

think of the failure of justice in any particular case, and they were

ever apprehensive of political dangers or embarrassments as contingent on

misunderstood lenity to "white men"--natural and proper feelings on the

part of mere political agents, but quite foreign to the administration

of justice according to the rules and maxims of civilised nations. It

seems not unlikely that the obvious lessons of the Moss case itself as

to the incompatibility of judicial and administrative functions, and the

unfair responsibility which their combination threw upon the consular

and diplomatic officers, hastened the realisation of the scheme of an

independent judiciary which was so strongly advocated by Sir Rutherford

Alcock in 'The Capital of the Tycoon.'

These various incidents, and sundry vexatious restrictions imposed on them

from time to time for their own security, no doubt disposed the residents

to look askance at many acts of the Minister, the reasons for which failed

to impress them. But though the surface of the relations between the

Minister and the merchants was thus perturbed, and regrettable, in the

common interest, as the lukewarmness of personal sympathy may have been,

the residents never failed in their respect for the high and sterling

qualities of the Minister, and the courageous manner in which he fought

for his country's interests. It only needed an emergency to give definite

expression to this feeling, and no testimony could be stronger, more

genuine, or less conventional than the farewell addresses in which the

merchants of Yokohama and Nagasaki summed up the brilliant record of a

man of whom they never ceased to feel proud. Instead of detracting from

the value of such spontaneous testimony, the minor differences only lent

emphasis to it, and set the seal of deep conviction on what in an ordinary

case might have passed as the language of mere compliment.

As shooting has been alluded to as an occasion of trouble, a word or two

on the subject of this amusement may have an interest for certain readers.

To the Japanese the pursuit of game seemed to be as strange a form of

sport as the other vagaries of the foreigner. Firearms were not in use

with them, cold steel being the regulation weapon of offence. There was a

tradition that the discharge of firearms within twenty-five miles of the

Tycoon's palace was prohibited by law,--what law or how promulgated was

never clearly made out, though the motive was intelligible enough. For

whatever reason, such game as there was in the country had evidently not

been disturbed; the pheasants were not wilder than the English stall-fed

variety. Small shooting-parties were in the habit of going out for a day,

or half a day, from Yokohama and Kanagawa with dogs and native beaters

among the coppices where the birds lay. The country itself was so charming

to walk or ride over, the peasant-folk were so polite and merry, that

heavy bags were not needed to attract sportsmen. Still, a good shot with

industry and a shrewd acquaintance with the habits of the game could

often get several brace of the splendid green pheasant of the country

(_Phasianus versicolor_) in an afternoon; while at rarer intervals the

finger would tremble on the trigger as one of those magnificent birds

called locally the "copper" pheasant (Soemerring's), with tail feathers

as long as a peacock's, would rise from the furrows and sail grandly

into the impenetrable thicket. Objections had been taken by the Japanese

officials to this form of amusement, because it was not the policy of the

rulers to familiarise the people with the sight of firearms, still less

to facilitate their acquiring them. In accordance with representations

from the authorities, the British consul had requested his nationals in

1859 to desist for a time until some arrangement was come to. This they

did, but in the following season resumed the sport, in which there were

no keener participants than the British consular officers. A contemporary

writer in September 1860 thus refers to the return of the shooting season:

"There being nothing to do, we are all looking forward anxiously to the

1st October, on which day the first onslaught on the feathered race takes

place. The weather is now hot, but we are all in very good health....

We live in a beautiful country, among a civil, amicable, kind-hearted,

and intelligent people. We can roam over the country without let or

hindrance." It is curious to note by the way how tenacious the Englishman

is of the punctilio of his game laws, carrying his observance of them into

countries where he and his laws are alike strangers, and where in many

cases the principles are not applicable to the local conditions.

A new element in the sport appeared with the advent of cold weather, in

the form of flocks of wildfowl, chiefly geese, which spread themselves

over the low-lying grounds, mostly at some miles distant from the

settlements. They were "geese," indeed, quite unsophisticated, having no

fear of man before their eyes--inherited instinct apparently at fault.

"Their tameness was shocking" at first, but they wonderfully soon learned

to be wary with a foreigner and a gun. The morning's bag of one early

riser, riding six miles and back to a nine o'clock breakfast, late in

November, dwindled rapidly from 12 to 6, 4, 2. The birds were shot within

200 yards of the _tokaido_, and in full view of many curious spectators,

armed and unarmed. Men were hired on the spot to carry the game along the

six miles of highroad and through the long street of Kanagawa, the whole

proceeding, in short, enjoying the utmost possible publicity.

The unfortunate Mr Moss, however, a few days later, toiled a whole day

and bagged one, with the consequences we have seen. Whether it was law

or not, the evidence supplied by the birds themselves of prescriptive

immunity from gunpowder attack was overwhelming. Hitherto the heavy winged

wildfowl had felt safe so long as they kept out of sword-range of the

human biped, but the new experience of a detonating missile fatal at fifty

yards broke up in a week the habits of generations, and forced them to

promptly readjust themselves to their environment.

FOOTNOTES:

[1] "We are never for a moment unwatched; ... if my servant

runs after a butterfly, a two-sworded official runs after

him."--Laurence Oliphant, Letter from Yedo, July 1861.

[2] "As a general rule, our guardians exercise their functions with

civility; when they are impertinent, one has to submit as one

would to one's jailor.... With entire humility, one is in no

danger whatever."--Oliphant, 2nd July 1861.

[3] The effect of the commercial isolation of Japan on the value

of general commodities was no less striking. The first foreign

traders might have bought with eyes shut nearly every article that

was offered to them, so great was the disparity of prices between

Japan and her nearest markets. Mr Hunter gives an interesting

example. "I had in go-downs," he says, "8000 piculs of sapan-wood

imported from Manila unsaleable at one dollar and a quarter per

picul, which was about its cost. Immediately that the opening

of the port of Simoda to foreign trade was announced officially,

an English vessel was chartered to carry it there. Brief--it was

sold for 35 dollars per picul, and the proceeds were invested in

Japanese vegetable wax at a cost of 6½ dollars, and sold for $17

the picul (133⅓ lb. English)," so that in the short voyage from

China to Japan and back the capital multiplied seventy times!

[4] A story is told of two Samurai meeting on a bridge which was too

narrow to allow of their passing each other. Neither being willing

to give way, they were about to settle the difficulty at the

point of the sword, when a peasant, strolling along the dry bed of

the stream, offered to extricate them without loss of dignity on

either side. Amused at his impertinence, and curious to see how

he would effect his purpose, they consented to humour him; and

when each, following his instructions, was seated in one of the

baskets at either end of the pole he was carrying, he swung it

round on to the opposite shoulder, asked pardon, bowed, and went

on his way, leaving them each facing in the direction in which he

would proceed.

[5] Ieyasu says the Samurai are the masters of the four classes.

Agriculturists, artisans, and merchants may not behave in a rude

manner towards Samurai. The term for a rude man is, "other than

expected fellow"; and a Samurai is not to be interfered with in

cutting down a fellow who has behaved to him in a manner other

than is expected. The Samurai are grouped into direct retainers,

secondary retainers and nobles, and retainers of high and low

grade; but the same line of conduct is equally allowable to them

all towards an "other than expected fellow."

[6] "All my old friends have disappeared," writes Laurence Oliphant

on his return to Yedo as secretary of Legation. "One who was an

especial favourite of mine when I was here last, ripped himself

up a short time ago; and two of the other commissioners are

disgraced, and it is supposed have followed his example. This was

all on account of their friendship for foreigners. Every one, down

to the lowest interpreter, who has had anything to do with the

introduction of foreigners, has disappeared or been disgraced."

[7] This man, Murioka by name, became afterwards well known to

foreigners, and was always ready to talk freely about the whole

transaction. When asked why he struck at a lady he would reply,

"How should I know, never having seen a foreign woman, least of

all on horseback?"

[8] It was a common thing for a Daimio to rid himself of the irksome

obligations of his position by abdicating in favour of his son.

On better acquaintance Shimadso Saburo proved a most genial old

gentleman. Three years later he entertained Sir Harry and Lady

Parkes at his capital most hospitably.

[9] Count Inouyé, the foremost statesman of the new Japan, is said

to have confessed that he set fire to the British Legation with

his own hand with the express object of embarrassing the Tycoon's

Government.

[10] The following souvenir of Count Mutsu, Foreign Minister of

Japan, who died in 1897, told by Mr J. F. Lowder and quoted in

'Things Japanese' by Mr Basil Hall Chamberlain, affords a graphic

illustration of this point. "In the very early Sixties, when

he was in his nineteenth or twentieth year, he was in Nagasaki

desirous of acquiring a knowledge of English. A lady of my

acquaintance taking an interest in him used to devote an hour or

two every morning to teaching him to read and write, but it was

not long before he came to me despairing of his slow progress, and

asking whether I could not give him a berth on board ship where

nothing but English was spoken. Believing him to be physically too

weak to stand such an ordeal, I endeavoured to dissuade him, but

without success; and so with some misgivings I shipped him as a

cabin-boy, which was the only position I could obtain for him, on

board a small British schooner that used in those days to voyage

between Nagasaki and Shanghai. How long he remained on board I

cannot say, but my recollection is that it was a very considerable

time."

[11] The foreign trade of Japan now (1900) approximates 40 millions

sterling, exports and imports being very nearly balanced.