7. If one of the English should commit an offence, he should be
sentenced by the English General according to the gravity of his
offence.
(Translated by Professor Riess.)
The terms of the 4th article show that the shogun expected the English
to make Yedo their headquarters. Had Saris done so, he would have been
free from all competition, would have had an immense market at his very
doors, would have economized the expense of numerous overland journeys
to the Tokugawa court, and would have saved the payment of many
"considerations." The result of his mistaken choice and subsequent bad
management was that, ten years later (1623), the English factory at
Hirado had to be closed, having incurred a total loss of about £2000. In
condonation of this failure it must be noted that a few months after the
death of Iyeyasu, the charter he had granted to Saris underwent serious
modification. The original document threw open to the English every port
in Japan; the revised document limited them to Hirado. But this
restriction may be indirectly traced to the blunder of not accepting a
settlement in Yedo and a port at Uraga. For the Tokugawa's foreign
policy was largely swayed by an apprehension lest the Kiushiu
feudatories, over whom the authority of Yedo had never been fully
established, might, by the presence of foreign traders, come into
possession of such a fleet and such an armament as would ultimately
enable them to wrest the administration of the empire from Tokugawa
hands. Hence the precaution of confining the English and the Dutch to
Hirado, the fief of a _daimyo_ too petty to become formidable, and to
Nagasaki which was an imperial city.[33] But evidently an English
factory in Yedo and English ships at Uraga would have strengthened the
Tokugawa ruler's hand instead of supplying engines of war to his
political foes. It must also be noted that the question of locality had
another injurious outcome. It exposed the English--and the Dutch
also--to crippling competition at the hands of a company of rich Osaka
monopolists, who, as representing an Imperial city and therefore being
pledged to the Tokugawa interests, enjoyed Yedo's favour and took full
advantage of it. These shrewd traders not only drew a ring round Hirado,
but also sent vessels on their own account to Cochin China, Siam,
Tonkin, Cambodia and other places, where they obtained many of the
staples in which the English and the Dutch dealt. Still the closure of
the English factory at Hirado was purely voluntary. From first to last
there had been no serious friction between the English and the Japanese.
The company's houses and godowns were not sold. These as well as the
charter were left in the hands of the daimyo of Hirado, who promised to
restore them should the English re-open business in Japan. The company
did think of doing so on more than one occasion, but no practical step
was taken until the year 1673, when a merchantman, aptly named the
"Return," was sent to seek permission. The Japanese, after mature
reflection, made answer that as the king of England was married to a
Portuguese princess, British subjects could not be permitted to visit
Japan. That this reply was suggested by the Dutch is very probable; that
it truly reflected the feeling of the Japanese government towards Roman
Catholics is certain.
The Last Days of the Portuguese in Japan.
The Spaniards were expelled from Japan in 1624, the Portuguese in 1638.
Two years before the latter event, the Yedo government took a signally
retrogressive step. They ordained that no Japanese vessel should go
abroad; that no Japanese subject should leave the country, and that, if
detected attempting to do so, he should be put to death, the vessel that
carried him and her crew being seized "to await our pleasure"; that any
Japanese resident abroad should be executed if he returned; that the
children and descendants of Spaniards together with those who had
adopted such children should not be allowed to remain on pain of death;
and that no ship of ocean-going dimensions should be built in Japan.
Thus not only were the very children of the Christian propagandists
driven completely from the land, but the Japanese people also were
sentenced to imprisonment within the limits of their islands, and the
country was deprived of all hope of acquiring a mercantile marine. The
descendants of the Spaniards, banished by the edict, were taken to Macao
in two Portuguese galleons. They numbered 287 and the property they
carried with them aggregated 6,697,500 florins. But if the Portuguese
derived any gratification from this sweeping out of their much-abused
rivals, the feeling was destined to be short-lived. Already they were
subjected to humiliating restrictions.
"From 1623 the galleons and their cargoes were liable to be burnt and
their crews executed if any foreign priest was found on board of them.
An official of the Japanese government was stationed in Macao for the
purpose of inspecting all intending passengers, and of preventing any
one that looked at all suspicious from proceeding to Japan. A complete
list and personal description of every one on board was drawn up by
this officer, a copy of it was handed to the captain and by him it had
to be delivered to the authorities who met him at Nagasaki before he
was allowed to anchor. If in the subsequent inspection any discrepancy
between the list and the persons actually carried by the vessel
appeared, it would prove very awkward for the captain. Then in the
inspection of the vessel letters were opened, trunks and boxes
ransacked, and all crosses, rosaries or objects of religion of any
kind had to be thrown overboard. In 1635 Portuguese were forbidden to
employ Japanese to carry their umbrellas or their shoes, and only
their chief men were allowed to bear arms, while they had to hire
fresh servants every year. It was in the following year (1636) that
the artificial islet of Deshima was constructed for their special
reception, or rather imprisonment. It lay in front of the former
Portuguese factory, with which it was connected by a bridge, and
henceforth the Portuguese were to be allowed to cross this bridge only
twice a year--at their arrival and at their departure. Furthermore,
all their cargoes had to be sold at a fixed price during their fifty
days' stay to a ring of licensed merchants from the imperial
towns."[34]
The imposition of such irksome conditions did not deter the Portuguese,
who continued to send merchandise-laden galleons to Nagasaki. But in
1638 the bolt fell. The Shimabara rebellion was directly responsible.
Probably the fact of a revolt of Christian converts, in such numbers and
fighting with such resolution, would alone have sufficed to induce the
weak government in Yedo to get rid of the Portuguese altogether. But the
Portuguese were suspected of having instigated the Shimabara
insurrection, and the Japanese authorities believed that they had proof
of the fact. Hence, in 1638, an edict was issued proclaiming that as, in
defiance of the government's order, the Portuguese had continued to
bring missionaries to Japan; as they had supplied these missionaries
with provisions and other necessaries, and as they had fomented the
Shimabara rebellion, thenceforth any Portuguese ship coming to Japan
should be burned, together with her cargo, and every one on board of her
should be executed. Ample time was allowed before enforcing this edict.
Not only were the Portuguese ships then at Nagasaki permitted to close
up their commercial transactions and leave the port, but also in the
following year when two galleons arrived from Macao, they were merely
sent away with a copy of the edict and a stern warning. But the
Portuguese could not easily become reconciled to abandon a commerce from
which they had derived splendid profits prior to the intrusion of the
Spaniards, the Dutch and the English, and from which they might now hope
further gains, since, although the Dutch continued to be formidable
rivals, the Spaniards had been excluded, the English had withdrawn, and
the Japanese, by the suicidal policy of their own rulers, were no longer
able to send ships to China. Therefore they took a step which resulted
in one of the saddest episodes of the whole story. Four aged men, the
most respected citizens of Macao, were despatched (1640) to Nagasaki as
ambassadors in a ship carrying no cargo but only rich presents. They
bore a petition declaring that for a long time no missionaries had
entered Japan from Macao, that the Portuguese had not been in any way
connected with the Shimabara revolt, and that interruption of trade
would injure Japan as much as Portugal. These envoys arrived at Nagasaki
on the 1st of July 1640, and 24 days sufficed to bring from Yedo,
whither their petition had been sent, peremptory orders for their
execution as well as executioners to carry out the orders. There was no
possibility of resistance. The Japanese had removed the ship's rudder,
sails, guns and ammunition, and had placed the envoys, their suite and
the crews under guard in Deshima. On the 2nd of August they were all
summoned to the governor's hall of audience, where, after their protest
had been heard that ambassadors should be under the protection of
international law, the sentence written in Yedo 13 days previously was
read to them. The following morning the Portuguese were offered their
lives if they would apostatize. Every one rejected the offer, and being
then led out to the martyrs' mount, the heads of the envoys and of 57 of
their companions fell. Thirteen were saved to carry the news to Macao.
These thirteen, after witnessing the burning of the galleon, were
conducted to the governor's residence who gave them this message:--
"Do not fail to inform the inhabitants of Macao that the Japanese wish
to receive from them neither gold nor silver, nor any kind of presents
or merchandise; in a word, absolutely nothing which comes from them.
You are witnesses that I have caused even the clothes of those who
were executed yesterday to be burned. Let them do the same with
respect to us if they find occasion to do so; we consent to it without
difficulty. Let them think no more of us, just as if we were no longer
in the world."
Finally the thirteen were taken to the martyrs' mount where, set up
above the heads of the victims, a tablet recounted the story of the
embassy and the reasons for the execution, and concluded with the
words:--
"So long as the sun warms the earth, let no Christian be so bold as to
come to Japan, and let all know that if King Philip himself, or even
the very God of the Christians, or the great Shaka contravene this
prohibition, they shall pay for it with their heads."
Had the ministers of the shogun in Yedo desired to make clear to future
ages that to Christianity alone was due the expulsion of Spaniards and
Portuguese from Japan and her adoption of the policy of seclusion they
could not have placed on record more conclusive testimony. Macao
received the news with rejoicing in that its "earthly ambassadors had
been made ambassadors of heaven," but it did not abandon all hope of
overcoming Japan's obduracy. When Portugal recovered her independence in
1640, the people of Macao requested Lisbon to send an ambassador to
Japan, and on the 16th of July 1647 Don Gonzalo de Siqueira arrived in
Nagasaki with two vessels. He carried a letter from King John IV.,
setting forth the severance of all connexion between Portugal and Spain,
which countries were now actually at war, and urging that commercial
relations should be re-established. The Portuguese, having refused to
give up their rudders and arms, soon found themselves menaced by a force
of fifty thousand samurai, and were glad to put out of port quietly on
the 4th of September. This was the last episode in the medieval history
of Portugal's intercourse with Japan.
The Dutch at Deshima.
When (1609) the Dutch contemplated forming a settlement in Japan,
Iyeyasu gave them a written promise that "no man should do them any
wrong and that he would maintain and defend them as his own subjects."
Moreover, the charter granted to them contained a clause providing that,
into whatever ports their ships put, they were not to be molested or
hindered in any way, but, "on the contrary, must be shown all manner of
help, favour and assistance." They might then have chosen any port in
Japan for their headquarters, but they had the misfortune to choose
Hirado. For many years they had no cause to regret the choice. Their
exclusive possession of the Spice Islands and their own enterprise and
command of capital gave them the leading place in Japan's over-sea
trade. Even when things had changed greatly for the worse and when the
English closed their books with a large loss, it is on record that the
Dutch were reaping a profit of 76% annually. Their doings at Hirado were
not of a purely commercial character. The Anglo-Dutch "fleet of defence"
made that port its basis of operations against the Spaniards and the
Portuguese. It brought its prizes into Hirado, the profits to be equally
divided between the fleet and the factories, Dutch and English, which
arrangement involved a sum of a hundred thousand pounds in 1622. But
after the death of Iyeyasu there grew up at the Tokugawa court a party
which advocated the expulsion of all foreigners on the ground that,
though some professed a different form of Christianity from that of the
Castilians and Portuguese, it was nevertheless one and the same creed.
This policy was not definitely adopted, but it made itself felt in a
discourteous reception accorded to the commandant of Fort Zelandia when
he visited Tokyo in 1627. He attempted to retaliate upon the Japanese
vessels which put into Zelandia in the following year, but the Japanese
managed to seize his person, exact reparation for loss of time and
obtain five hostages whom they carried to prison in Japan. The Japanese
government of that time was wholly intolerant of any injury done to its
subjects by foreigners. When news of the Zelandia affair reached Yedo,
orders were immediately issued for the sequestration of certain Dutch
vessels and for the suspension of the Hirado factory, which veto was not
removed for four years. Commercial arrangements, also, became less
favourable. The Dutch, instead of selling their silk--which generally
formed the principal staple of import--in the open market, were required
to send it to the Osaka gild of licensed merchants at Nagasaki, by which
means, Nagasaki and Osaka being Imperial cities, the Yedo government
derived advantage from the transaction. An attempt to evade this onerous
system provoked a very stern rebuke from Yedo, and shortly afterwards
all Japanese subjects were forbidden to act as servants to the Dutch
outside the latter's dwellings. The co-operation of the Hollanders in
bombarding the castle of Hara during the Shimabara rebellion (1638) gave
them some claim on the shogun's government, but in the same year the
Dutch received an imperious warning that the severest penalties would be
inflicted if their ships carried priests or any religious objects or
books. So profound was the dislike of everything relating to
Christianity that the Dutch nearly caused the ruin of their factory and
probably their own destruction by inscribing on some newly erected
warehouses the date according to the Christian era. The factory happened
to be then presided over by Caron, a man of extraordinary penetration.
Without a moment's hesitation he set 400 men to pull down the
warehouses, thus depriving the Japanese of all pretext for recourse to
violence. He was compelled, however, to promise that there should be no
observance of the Sabbath hereafter and that time should no longer be
reckoned by the Christian era. In a few months, further evidence of
Yedo's ill will was furnished. An edict appeared ordering the Dutch to
dispose of all their imports during the year of their arrival, without
any option of carrying them away should prices be low. They were thus
placed at the mercy of the Osaka gild. Further, they were forbidden to
slaughter cattle or carry arms, and altogether it seemed as though the
situation was to be rendered impossible for them. An envoy despatched
from Batavia to remonstrate could not obtain audience of the shogun, and
though he presented, by way of remonstrance, the charter originally
granted by Iyeyasu, the reply he received was:--
"His Majesty charges us to inform you that it is of but slight
importance to the Empire of Japan whether foreigners come or do not
come to trade. But in consideration of the charter granted to them by
Iyeyasu, he is pleased to allow the Hollanders to continue their
operations, and to leave them their commercial and other privileges,
on the condition that they evacuate Hirado and establish themselves
with their vessels in the port of Nagasaki."
The Dutch did not at first regard this as a calamity. During their
residence of 31 years at Hirado they had enjoyed full freedom, had been
on excellent terms with the feudatory and his samurai, and had prospered
in their business. But the pettiness of the place and the inconvenience
of the anchorage having always been recognized, transfer to Nagasaki
promised a splendid harbour and much larger custom. Bitter, therefore,
was their disappointment when they found that they were to be imprisoned
in Deshima, a quadrangular island whose longest face did not measure 300
yds., and that, so far from living in the town of Nagasaki, they would
not be allowed even to enter it. Siebold writes:--
"A guard at the gate prevented all communications with the city of
Nagasaki; no Dutchman without weighty reasons and without the
permission of the governor might pass the gate; no Japanese (unless
public women) might live in a Dutchman's house. As if this were not
enough, even within Deshima itself our state prisoners were keenly
watched. No Japanese might speak with them in his own language unless
in the presence of a witness (a government spy) or visit them in their
houses. The creatures of the governor had the warehouses under key and
the Dutch traders ceased to be masters of their property."
There were worse indignities to be endured. No Dutchman might be buried
in Japanese soil: the dead had to be committed to the deep. Every Dutch
ship, her rudder, guns and ammunition removed and her sails sealed, was
subjected to the strictest search. No religious service could be held.
No one was suffered to pass from one Dutch ship to another without the
governor's permit. Sometimes the officers and men were wantonly
cudgelled by petty Japanese officials. They led, in short, a life of
extreme abasement. Some relaxation of this extreme severity was
afterwards obtained, but at no time of their sojourn in Deshima, a
period of 217 years, were the Dutch relieved from irksome and
humiliating restraints. Eleven years after their removal thither, the
expediency of consulting the national honour by finally abandoning an
enterprise so derogatory was gravely discussed, but hopes of improvement
supplementing natural reluctance to surrender a monopoly which still
brought large gains, induced them to persevere. At that time this
Nagasaki over-sea trade was considerable. From 7 to 10 Dutch ships used
to enter the port annually, carrying cargo valued at some 80,000 lb. of
silver, the chief staples of import being silk and piece-goods, and the
government levying 5% by way of customs dues. But this did not represent
the whole of the charges imposed. A rent of 459 lb. of silver had to be
paid each year for the little island of Deshima and the houses standing
on it; and, further, every spring, the Hollanders were required to send
to Yedo a mission bearing for the shogun, the heir-apparent and the
court officials presents representing an aggregate value of about 550
lb. of silver. They found their account, nevertheless, in buying gold
and copper--especially the latter--for exportation, until the Japanese
authorities, becoming alarmed at the great quantity of copper thus
carried away, adopted the policy of limiting the number of vessels, as
well as their inward and outward cargoes, so that, in 1790, only one
ship might enter annually, nor could she carry away more than 350 tons
of copper. On the other hand, the formal visits of the captain of the
factory to Yedo were reduced to one every fifth year, and the value of
the presents carried by him was cut down to one half.
Loss to Japan by adopting the Policy of Exclusion.
Well-informed historians have contended that, by thus segregating
herself from contact with the West, Japan's direct losses were small.
Certainly it is true that she could not have learned much from European
nations in the 17th century. They had little to teach her in the way of
religious tolerance; in the way of international morality; in the way of
social amenities and etiquette; in the way of artistic conception and
execution; or in the way of that notable shibboleth of modern
civilization, the open door and equal opportunities. Yet when all this
is admitted, there remains the vital fact that Japan was thus shut off
from the atmosphere of competition, and that for nearly two centuries
and a half she never had an opportunity of warming her intelligence at
the fire of international rivalry or deriving inspiration from an
exchange of ideas. She stood comparatively still while the world went
on, and the interval between her and the leading peoples of the Occident
in matters of material civilization had become very wide before she
awoke to a sense of its existence. The sequel of this page of her
history has been faithfully summarized by a modern writer:--
"A more complete metamorphosis of a nation's policy could scarcely be
conceived. In 1541 we find the Japanese celebrated, or notorious,
throughout the whole of the Far East for exploits abroad; we find them
known as the 'kings of the sea'; we find them welcoming foreigners
with cordiality and opposing no obstacles to foreign commerce or even
to the propagandism of foreign creeds; we find them so quick to
recognize the benefits of foreign trade and so apt to pursue them
that, in the space of a few years, they establish commercial relations
with no less than twenty over-sea markets; we find them authorizing
the Portuguese, the Dutch and the English to trade at every port in
the empire; we find, in short, all the elements requisite for a career
of commercial enterprise, ocean-going adventure and industrial
liberality. In 1641 everything is reversed. Trade is interdicted to
all Western peoples except the Dutch, and they are confined to a
little island 200 yards in length by 80 in width; the least symptom of
predilection for any alien creed exposes a Japanese subject to be
punished with awful rigour; any attempt to leave the limits of the
realm involves decapitation; not a ship large enough to pass beyond
the shadow of the coast may be built. However unwelcome the admission,
it is apparent that for all these changes Christian propagandism was
responsible. The policy of seclusion adopted by Japan in the early
part of the 17th century and resolutely pursued until the middle of
the 19th, was anti-Christian, not anti-foreign. The fact cannot be too
clearly recognized. It is the chief lesson taught by the events
outlined above. Throughout the whole of that period of isolation,
Occidentals were not known to the Japanese by any of the terms now in
common use, as _gwaikoku-jin_, _seiyo-jin_, or _i-jin_, which embody
the simple meanings 'foreigner,' 'Westerner' or 'alien': they were
popularly called _bateren_ (_padres_). Thus completely had foreign
intercourse and Christian propagandism become identified in the eyes
of the people. And when it is remembered that foreign intercourse,
associated with Christianity, had come to be synonymous in Japanese
ears with foreign aggression, with the subversal of the mikado's
ancient dynasty, and with the loss of the independence of the 'country
of the gods,' there is no difficulty in understanding the attitude of
the nation's mind towards this question."
Dutch and Russian Influence.
_Foreign Intercourse in Modern Times._--From the middle of the 17th
century to the beginning of the 19th, Japan succeeded in rigorously
enforcing her policy of seclusion. But in the concluding days of this
epoch two influences began to disturb her self-sufficiency. One was the
gradual infiltration of light from the outer world through the narrow
window of the Dutch prison at Deshima; the other, frequent apparitions
of Russian vessels on her northern coasts. The former was a slow
process. It materialized first in the study of anatomy by a little group
of youths who had acquired accidental knowledge of the radical
difference between Dutch and Japanese conceptions as to the structure of
the human body. The work of these students reads like a page of romance.
Without any appreciable knowledge of the Dutch language, they set
themselves to decipher a Dutch medical book, obtained at enormous cost,
and from this small beginning they passed to a vague but firm conviction
that their country had fallen far behind the material and intellectual
progress of the Occident. They laboured in secret, for the study of
foreign books was then a criminal offence; yet the patriotism of one of
their number outweighed his prudence, and he boldly published a brochure
advocating the construction of a navy and predicting a descent by the
Russians on the northern borders of the empire. Before this prescient
man had lain five months in prison, his foresight was verified by
events. The Russians simulated at the outset a desire to establish
commercial relations by peaceful means. Had the Japanese been better
acquainted with the history of nations, they would have known how to
interpret the idea of a Russian quest for commercial connexions in the
Far East a hundred years ago. But they dealt with the question on its
superficial merits, and, after imposing on the tsar's envoys a wearisome
delay of several months at Nagasaki, addressed to them a peremptory
refusal together with an order to leave that port forthwith. Incensed by
such treatment, and by the subsequent imprisonment of a number of their
fellow countrymen who had landed on the island of Etorofu in the
Kuriles, the Russians resorted to armed reprisals. The Japanese
settlements in Sakhalin and Etorofu were raided and burned, other places
were menaced and several Japanese vessels were destroyed. The lesson
sank deep into the minds of the Yedo officials. They withdrew their veto
against the study of foreign books, and they arrived in part at the
reluctant conclusion that to offer armed opposition to the coming of
foreign ships was a task somewhat beyond Japan's capacity. Japan ceased,
however, to attract European attention amid the absorbing interest of
the Napoleonic era, and the shogun's government, misinterpreting this
respite, reverted to their old policy of stalwart resistance to foreign
intercourse.
American Enterprise.
Meanwhile another power was beginning to establish close contact with
Japan. The whaling industry in Russian waters off the coast of Alaska
and in the seas of China and Japan had attracted large investments of
American capital and was pursued yearly by thousands of American
citizens. In one season 86 of these whaling vessels passed within easy
sight of Japan's northern island, Yezo, so that the aspect of foreign
ships became quite familiar. From time to time American schooners were
cast away on Japan's shores. Generally the survivors were treated with
tolerable consideration and ultimately sent to Deshima for shipment to
Batavia. Japanese sailors, too, driven out of their route by hurricanes
and caught in the stream of the "Black Current," were occasionally
carried to the Aleutian Islands, to Oregon or California, and in several
instances these shipwrecked mariners were taken back to Japan with all
kindness by American vessels. On such an errand of mercy the "Morrison"
entered Yedo Bay in 1837, proceeding thence to Kagoshima, only to be
driven away by cannon shot; and on such an errand the "Manhattan" in
1845 lay for four days at Uraga while her master (Mercater Cooper)
collected books and charts. It would seem that his experience induced
the Washington government to attempt the opening of Japan. A ninety-gun
ship and a sloop were sent on the errand. They anchored off Uraga (July
1846) and Commodore Biddle made due application for trade. But he
received a positive refusal, and having been instructed by his
government to abstain from any act calculated to excite hostility or
distrust, he quietly weighed anchor and sailed away.
Great Britain reappears upon the scene.
In this same year (1846) a French ship touched at the Riukiu (Luchu)
archipelago and sought to persuade the islanders that their only
security against British aggression was to place themselves under the
protection of France. In fact Great Britain was now beginning to
interest herself in south China, and more than one warning reached Yedo
from Deshima that English war-ships might at any moment visit Japanese
waters. The Dutch have been much blamed for thus attempting to prejudice
Japan against the Occident, but if the dictates of commercial rivalry,
as it was then practised, do not constitute an ample explanation, it
should be remembered that England and Holland had recently been enemies,
and that the last British vessel,[35] seen at Nagasaki had gone there
hoping to capture the annual Dutch trading-ship from Batavia. Deshima's
warnings, however, remained unfulfilled, though they doubtless
contributed to Japan's feeling of uneasiness. Then, in 1847, the king of
Holland himself intervened. He sent to Yedo various books, together with
a map of the world and a despatch advising Japan to abandon her policy
of isolation. Within a few months (1849) of the receipt of his Dutch
majesty's recommendation, an American brig, the "Preble," under
Commander J. Glynn, anchored in Nagasaki harbour and threatened to
bombard the town unless immediate delivery were made of 18 seamen who,
having been wrecked in northern waters, were held by the Japanese
preparatory to shipment for Batavia. In 1849 another despatch reached
Yedo from the king of Holland announcing that an American fleet might be
expected in Japanese waters a year later, and that, unless Japan agreed
to enter into friendly commercial relations, war must ensue. Appended to
this despatch was an approximate draft of the treaty which would be
presented for signature, together with a copy of a memorandum addressed
by the Washington government to European nations, justifying the
contemplated expedition on the ground that it would inure to the
advantage of Japan as well as to that of the Occident.
Commodore Perry.
In 1853, Commodore Perry, with a squadron of four ships-of-war and 560
men, entered Uraga Bay. So formidable a foreign force had not been seen
in Japanese waters since the coming of the Mongol Armada. A panic ensued
among the people--the same people who, in the days of Hideyoshi or
Iyeyasu, would have gone out to encounter these ships with assured
confidence of victory. The contrast did not stop there. The shogun,
whose ancestors had administered the country's affairs with absolutely
autocratic authority, now summoned a council of the feudatories to
consider the situation; and the Imperial court in Kioto, which never
appealed for heaven's aid except in a national emergency such as had
never been witnessed since the creation of the shogunate, now directed
that at the seven principal shrines and at all the great temples special
prayers should be offered for the safety of the land and for the
destruction of the aliens. Thus the appearance of the American squadron
awoke in the cause of the country as a whole a spirit of patriotism
hitherto confined to feudal interests. The shogun does not seem to have
had any thought of invoking that spirit: his part in raising it was
involuntary and his ministers behaved with perplexed vacillation. The
infirmity of the Yedo Administration's purpose presented such a strong
contrast to the single-minded resolution of the Imperial court that the
prestige of the one was largely impaired and that of the other
correspondingly enhanced. Perry, however, was without authority to
support his proposals by any recourse to violence. The United States
government had relied solely on the moral effect of his display of
force, and his countrymen had supplied him with a large collection of
the products of peaceful progress, from sewing machines to miniature
railways. He did not unduly press for a treaty, but after lying at
anchor off Uraga during a period of ten days and after transmitting the
president's letter to the sovereign of Japan, he steamed away on the
17th of July, announcing his return in the ensuing spring. The conduct
of the Japanese subsequently to his departure showed how fully and
rapidly they had acquired the conviction that the appliances of their
old civilization were powerless to resist the resources of the new.
Orders were issued rescinding the long-enforced veto against the
construction of sea-going ships; the feudal chiefs were invited to build
and arm large vessels; the Dutch were commissioned to furnish a ship of
war and to procure from Europe all the best works on modern military
science; every one who had acquired any expert knowledge through the
medium of Deshima was taken into official favour; forts were built;
cannon were cast and troops were drilled. But from all this effort there
resulted only fresh evidence of the country's inability to defy foreign
insistence, and on the 2nd of December 1853, instructions were issued
that if the Americans returned, they were to be dealt with peacefully.
The sight of Perry's steam-propelled ships, their powerful guns and all
the specimens they carried of western wonders, had practically broken
down the barriers of Japan's isolation without any need of treaties or
conventions. Perry returned in the following February, and after an
interchange of courtesies and formalities extending over six weeks,
obtained a treaty pledging Japan to accord kind treatment to shipwrecked
sailors; to permit foreign vessels to obtain stores and provisions
within her territory, and to allow American ships to anchor in the ports
at Shimoda and Hakodate. On this second occasion Perry had 10 ships with
crews numbering two thousand, and when he landed to sign the treaty, he
was escorted by a guard of honour mustering 500 strong in 27 boats. Much
has been written about his judicious display of force and his sagacious
tact in dealing with the Japanese, but it may be doubted whether the
consequences of his exploit have not invested its methods with
extravagant lustre. Standing on the threshold of modern Japan's
wonderful career, his figure shines by the reflected light of its
surroundings.
First Treaty of Commerce.
Russia, Holland and England speedily secured for themselves treaties
similar to that concluded by Commodore Perry in 1854. But Japan's doors
still remained closed to foreign commerce, and it was reserved for
another citizen of the great republic to open them. This was Townsend
Harris (1803-1878), the first U.S. consul-general in Japan. Arriving in
August 1856, he concluded, in June of the following year, a treaty
securing to American citizens the privilege of permanent residence at
Shimoda and Hakodate, the opening of Nagasaki, the right of consular
jurisdiction and certain minor concessions. Still, however, permission
for commercial intercourse was withheld, and Harris, convinced that this
great goal could not be reached unless he made his way to Yedo and
conferred direct with the shogun's ministers, pressed persistently for
leave to do so. Ten months elapsed before he succeeded, and such a
display of reluctance on the Japanese side was very unfavourably
criticized in the years immediately subsequent. Ignorance of the
country's domestic politics inspired the critics. The Yedo
administration, already weakened by the growth of a strong public
sentiment in favour of abolishing the dual system of government--that of
the mikado in Kioto and that of the shogun in Yedo--had been still
further discredited by its own timid policy as compared with the
stalwart mien of the throne towards the question of foreign intercourse.
Openly to sanction commercial relations at such a time would have been
little short of reckless. The Perry convention and the first Harris
convention could be construed, and were purposely construed, as mere
acts of benevolence towards strangers; but a commercial treaty would not
have lent itself to any such construction, and naturally the shogun's
ministers hesitated to agree to an apparently suicidal step. Harris
carried his point, however. He was received by the shogun in Yedo in
November 1857, and on the 29th of July 1858 a treaty was signed in Yedo,
engaging that Yokohama should be opened on the 4th of July 1859 and that
commerce between the United States and Japan should thereafter be freely
carried on there. This treaty was actually concluded by the shogun's
Ministers in defiance of their failure to obtain the sanction of the
sovereign in Kioto. Foreign historians have found much to say about
Japanese duplicity in concealing the subordinate position occupied by
the Yedo administration towards the Kioto court. Such condemnation is
not consistent with fuller knowledge. The Yedo authorities had power to
solve all problems of foreign intercourse without reference to Kioto.
Iyeyasu had not seen any occasion to seek imperial assent when he
granted unrestricted liberty of trade to the representatives of the East
India Company, nor had Iyemitsu asked for Kioto's sanction when he
issued his decree for the expulsion of all foreigners. If, in the 19th
century, Yedo shrank from a responsibility which it had unhesitatingly
assumed in the 17th, the cause was to be found, not in the shogun's
simulation of autonomy, but in his desire to associate the throne with a
policy which, while recognizing it to be unavoidable, he distrusted his
own ability to make the nation accept. But his ministers had promised
Harris that the treaty should be signed, and they kept their word, at a
risk of which the United States' consul-general had no conception.
Throughout these negotiations Harris spared no pains to create in the
minds of the Japanese an intelligent conviction that the world could no
longer be kept at arm's length, and though it is extremely problematical
whether he would have succeeded had not the Japanese themselves already
arrived at that very conviction, his patient and lucid expositions
coupled with a winning personality undoubtedly produced much impression.
He was largely assisted, too, by recent events in China, where the Peiho
forts had been captured and the Chinese forced to sign a treaty at
Tientsin. Harris warned the Japanese that the British fleet might be
expected at any moment in Yedo Bay, and that the best way to avert
irksome demands at the hands of the English was to establish a
comparatively moderate precedent by yielding to America's proposals.
Effects of the Treaty.
This treaty could not be represented, as previous conventions had been,
in the light of a purely benevolent concession. It definitely provided
for the trade and residence of foreign merchants, and thus finally
terminated Japan's traditional isolation. Moreover, it had been
concluded in defiance of the Throne's refusal to sanction anything of
the kind. Much excitement resulted. The nation ranged itself into three
parties. One comprised the advocates of free intercourse and progressive
liberality; another, while insisting that only the most limited
privileges should be accorded to aliens, was of two minds as to the
advisability of offering armed resistance at once or temporizing so as
to gain time for preparation; the third advocated uncompromising
seclusion. Once again the shogun convoked a meeting of the feudal
barons, hoping to secure their co-operation. But with hardly an
exception they pronounced against yielding. Thus the shogunate saw
itself compelled to adopt a resolutely liberal policy: it issued a
decree in that sense, and thenceforth the administrative court at Yedo
and the Imperial court in Kioto stood in unequivocal opposition to each
other, the Conservatives ranging themselves on the side of the latter,
the Liberals on that of the former. It was a situation full of
perplexity to outsiders, and the foreign representatives misinterpreted
it. They imagined that the shogun's ministers sought only to evade their
treaty obligations and to render the situation intolerable for foreign
residents, whereas in truth the situation threatened to become
intolerable for the shogunate itself. Nevertheless the Yedo officials
cannot be entirely acquitted of duplicity. Under pressure of the
necessity of self-preservation they effected with Kioto a compromise
which assigned to foreign intercourse a temporary character. The
threatened political crisis was thus averted, but the enemies of the
dual system of government gained strength daily. One of their devices
was to assassinate foreigners in the hope of embroiling the shogunate
with Western powers and thus either forcing its hand or precipitating
its downfall. It is not wonderful, perhaps, that foreigners were
deceived, especially as they approached the solution of Japanese
problems with all the Occidental's habitual suspicion of everything
Oriental. Thus when the Yedo government, cognisant that serious dangers
menaced the Yokohama settlement, took precautions to guard it, the
foreign ministers convinced themselves that a deliberate piece of
chicanery was being practised at their expense; that statecraft rather
than truth had dictated the representations made to them by the Japanese
authorities; and that the alarm of the latter was simulated for the
purpose of finding a pretext to curtail the liberty enjoyed by
foreigners. Therefore a suggestion that the inmates of the legations
should show themselves as little as possible in the streets of the
capital, where at any moment a desperado might cut them down, was
treated almost as an insult. Then the Japanese authorities saw no
recourse except to attach an armed escort to the person of every
foreigner when he moved about the city. But even this precaution, which
certainly was not adopted out of mere caprice or with any sinister
design, excited fresh suspicions. The British representative, in
reporting the event to his government, said that the Japanese had taken
the opportunity to graft upon the establishment of spies, watchmen and
police-officers at the several legations, a mounted escort to accompany
the members whenever they moved about.
Attacks upon Foreigners and their Consequences.
Just at this time (1861) the Yedo statesmen, in order to reconcile the
divergent views of the two courts, negotiated a marriage between the
emperor's sister and the shogun. But in order to bring the union about,
they had to placate the Kioto Conservatives by a promise to expel
foreigners from the country within ten years. When this became known, it
strengthened the hands of the reactionaries, and furnished a new weapon
to Yedo's enemies, who interpreted the marriage as the beginning of a
plot to dethrone the mikado. Murderous attacks upon foreigners became
more frequent. Two of these assaults had momentous consequences. Three
British subjects attempted to force their way through the _cortège_ of
the Satsuma feudal chief on the highway between Yokohama and Yedo. One
of them was killed and the other two wounded. This outrage was not
inspired by the "barbarian-expelling" sentiment: to any Japanese subject
violating the rules of etiquette as these Englishmen had violated them,
the same fate would have been meted out. Nevertheless, as the Satsuma
daimyo refused to surrender his implicated vassals, and as the shogun's
arm was not long enough to reach the most powerful feudatory in Japan,
the British government sent a squadron to bombard his capital,
Kagoshima. It was not a brilliant exploit in any sense, but its results
were invaluable; for the operations of the British ships finally
convinced the Satsuma men of their impotence in the face of Western
armaments, and converted them into advocates of liberal progress. Three
months previously to this bombardment of Kagoshima another puissant
feudatory had thrown down the gauntlet. The Choshu chief, whose
batteries commanded the entrance to the inland sea at Shimonoseki,
opened fire upon ships flying the flags of the United States, of France
and of Holland. In thus acting he obeyed an edict obtained by the
extremists from the mikado without the knowledge of the shogun, which
edict fixed the 11th of May 1863 as the date for practically
inaugurating the foreigners-expulsion policy. Again the shogun's
administrative competence proved inadequate to exact reparation, and a
squadron, composed chiefly of British men-of-war, proceeding to
Shimonoseki, demolished Choshu's forts, destroyed his ships and
scattered his samurai. In the face of the Kagoshima bombardment and the
Shimonoseki expedition, no Japanese subject could retain any faith in
his country's ability to oppose Occidentals by force. Thus the year 1863
was memorable in Japan's history. It saw the "barbarian-expelling"
agitation deprived of the emperor's sanction; it saw the two principal
clans, Satsuma and Choshu, convinced of their country's impotence to
defy the Occident; it saw the nation almost fully roused to the
disintegrating and weakening effects of the feudal system; and it saw
the traditional antipathy to foreigners beginning to be exchanged for a
desire to study their civilization and to adopt its best features.
Ratification of the Treaties.
The treaty concluded between the shogun's government and the United
States in 1858 was of course followed by similar compacts with the
principal European powers. From the outset these states agreed to
co-operate for the assertion of their conventional privileges, and they
naturally took Great Britain for leader, though such a relation was
never openly announced. The treaties, however, continued during several
years to lack imperial ratification, and, as time went by, that defect
obtruded itself more and more upon the attention of their foreign
signatories. The year 1865 saw British interests entrusted to the charge
of Sir Harry Parkes, a man of keen insight, indomitable courage and
somewhat peremptory methods, learned during a long period of service in
China. It happened that the post of Japanese secretary at the British
legation in Yedo was then held by a remarkably gifted young Englishman,
who, in a comparatively brief interval, had acquired a good working
knowledge of the Japanese language, and it happened also that the
British legation in Yedo was already--as it has always been ever
since--the best equipped institution of its class in Japan. Aided by
these facilities and by the researches of Mr Satow (afterwards Sir
Ernest Satow) Parkes arrived at the conclusions that the Yedo government
was tottering to its fall; that the resumption of administrative
authority by the Kioto court would make for the interests not only of
the West but also of Japan; and that the ratification of the treaties by
the mikado would elucidate the situation for foreigners while being, at
the same time, essential to the validity of the documents. Two other
objects also presented themselves, namely, that the import duties fixed
by the conventions should be reduced from 15 to 5% _ad valorem_, and
that the ports of Hiogo and Osaka should be opened at once, instead of
at the expiration of two years as originally fixed. It was not proposed
that these concessions should be entirely gratuitous. When the
four-power flotilla destroyed the Shimonoseki batteries and sank the
vessels lying there, a fine of three million dollars (some £750,000) had
been imposed upon the daimyo of Choshu by way of ransom for his capital,
which lay at the mercy of the invaders. The daimyo of Choshu, however,
was in open rebellion against the shogun, and as the latter could not
collect the debt from the recalcitrant clansmen, while the four powers
insisted on being paid by some one, the Yedo treasury was finally
compelled to shoulder the obligation. Two out of the three millions were
still due, and Parkes conceived the idea of remitting this debt in
exchange for the ratification of the treaties, the reduction of the
customs tariff from 15 to 5% _ad valorem_ and the immediate opening of
Hiogo and Osaka. He took with him to the place of negotiation (Hiogo) a
fleet of British, French and Dutch war-ships, for, while announcing
peaceful intentions, he had accustomed himself to think that a display
of force should occupy the foreground in all negotiations with Oriental
states. This coup may be said to have sealed the fate of the shogunate.
For here again was produced in a highly aggravated form the drama which
had so greatly startled the nation eight years previously. Perry had
come with his war-ships to the portals of Yedo, and now a foreign fleet,
twice as strong as Perry's, had anchored at the vestibule of the
Imperial city itself. No rational Japanese could suppose that this
parade of force was for purely peaceful purposes, or that rejection of
the amicable bargain proposed by Great Britain's representative would be
followed by the quiet withdrawal of the menacing fleet, whose terrible
potentialities had been demonstrated at Kagoshima and Shimonoseki. The
seclusionists, whose voices had been nearly silenced, raised them in
renewed denunciation of the shogun's incompetence to guarantee the
sacred city of Kioto against such trespasses, and the emperor, brought
once more under the influence of the anti-foreign party, inflicted a
heavy disgrace on the shogun by dismissing and punishing the officials
to whom the latter had entrusted the conduct of negotiations at Hiogo.
Such procedure on the part of the throne amounted to withdrawing the
administrative commission held by the Tokugawa family since the days of
Iyeyasu. The shogun resigned. But his adversaries not being yet ready to
replace him, he was induced to resume office, with, however, fatally
damaged prestige. As for the three-power squadron, it steamed away
successful. Parkes had come prepared to write off the indemnity in
exchange for three concessions. He obtained two of the concessions
without remitting a dollar of the debt.
Final Adoption of Western Civilization.
The shogun did not long survive the humiliation thus inflicted on him.
He died in the following year (1866), and was succeeded by Keiki,
destined to be the last of the Tokugawa rulers. Nine years previously
this same Keiki had been put forward by the seclusionists as candidate
for the shogunate. Yet no sooner did he attain that distinction in 1866
than he remodelled the army on French lines, engaged English officers to
organize a navy, sent his brother to the Paris Exhibition, and altered
many of the forms and ceremonies of his court so as to bring them into
accord with Occidental fashions. The contrast between the politics he
represented when a candidate for office in 1857 and the practice he
adopted on succeeding to power in 1866 furnished an apt illustration of
the change that had come over the spirit of the time. The most bigoted
of the exclusionists were now beginning to abandon all idea of expelling
foreigners and to think mainly of acquiring the best elements of their
civilization. The Japanese are slow to reach a decision but very quick
to act upon it when reached. From 1866 onwards the new spirit rapidly
permeated the whole nation; progress became the aim of all classes, and
the country entered upon a career of intelligent assimilation which, in
forty years, won for Japan a universally accorded place in the ranks of
the great Occidental powers.
[Continued in volume XV slice III.]