inhabitants of the little fishing village of Uraga, situated on the
Pacific coast within ten miles of the entrance to the Gulf of Tokio, a
squadron of “black ships,” as the children termed the war vessels, the
like of which they had never before seen or even heard of, and not long
afterwards a boat was rowed ashore and a party of officers landed. For
230 years there had been no communication with strangers, the edicts
of the Shogun Iyeyasu and his successors in the office having expressly
prohibited all intercourse, for reasons which need not be given here,
and the open defiance of the law of the land implied by the visit of the
Americans filled the villagers with consternation. It was discovered
that the unwelcome guests had brought a letter for the reigning monarch
of Japan, and this the head man of the place agreed to forward to the
proper officials. Commodore Perry happened to reach Japan at a time
when the feudal lords of the various provinces had become jealous of
the long-continued supremacy of the Tokugawa line of Shoguns, deputies
of the crown who had for two and a half centuries practically ruled the
country, in the name of the monarchs who had remained in seclusion at
the palace of Kioto while their lieutenants governed the land from Yedo.
The movement in favour of the re-establishment of the direct rule of the
Emperor, in place of the semi-regal authority which had been exercised by
the descendants of Iyeyasu, the first Shogun of the Tokugawa line, had
begun to take definite shape some years previously, as we shall discover
when we consider the history of Fujita, Sakuma, and Yoshida,—patriots
who flourished earlier in the nineteenth century,—and the advent of
the American visitors served but to accentuate the difficulties of the
situation for the Yedo potentate, who was placed on the horns of a
dilemma. If he yielded to the demands of the Americans that the nation
which had so long been hidden from the rest of the world should emerge
from its retirement and admit foreigners within its gates, he would incur
the wrath of the ultra-Conservative party among the nobility of his own
land. If he refused to comply with the American President Fillmore’s
amiable suggestions, Japan might yet share the fate of China, and a
forcible invasion of his Imperial master’s dominions, which would be
equally disastrous to himself as being responsible for the exclusion of
the “barbarians,” was almost certain to occur. The Shogun took the advice
of those who advocated the making of treaties with men whom they were not
then strong enough in Japan to effectually exclude, and the thin end of
the wedge was inserted by the conclusion of the compact,—at first nothing
more than a promise of friendship,—between Japan and the United States of
America.
Under the provisions of the American treaty then negotiated by Perry, the
United States acquired the right of establishing a legation at Shimoda.
This is a small town at the tip of the Idzu promontory, which extends in
a southern direction from the province of Sagami, and it is sixty-five
miles as the crow flies south-west of Yokohama. Over a building which had
previously been a Buddhist temple the Stars and Stripes were hoisted at
Shimoda in September 1856, and America’s accredited envoy, Mr Townsend
Harris, resided there for many months, being the first of the diplomatic
representatives of foreign powers to dwell in the newly awakened Land
of Sunrise, and the first to arrange a treaty of commerce. Under the
arrangement made with Commodore Perry there were to be two seaports
opened to the reception of American vessels, where they might obtain
coal, provisions, wood, and water. One of these ports was Shimoda, the
other was Hakodate, in the northern island of Yeso. The treaty provided
for hospitable behaviour towards shipwrecked crews,—a matter in which,
had the instincts of the Japanese nation at large been appreciated as
they are to-day it would perhaps have been deemed superfluous to make
any stipulations—and it also included certain regulations for conducting
trade and for the residence of consuls or agents, at the places named.
The stay of the American agent at Shimoda was not of long duration, for
on the opening of the capital, as a place wherein the representatives
of other powers could most fittingly dwell, Mr Harris removed to that
city. But it should not be lost sight of that Shimoda was for a time the
official headquarters of the American Legation in Japan, and a place
where the population was more or less accustomed to see foreigners long
before the rest of the country,—save the trading ports of Yokohama,
Kobé, Nagasaki, and three other places on the coast opened later—was
available to strangers. The British treaty, made the same year by
Admiral Stirling, was on similar lines. It was not until the Earl of
Elgin concluded the treaty of 1858 that powers were obtained for the
residence of the foreign ministers in Yedo, though it had been agreed
that a third port,—that of Nagasaki,—should be opened to trade. The
Elgin treaty in addition provided for the establishment of open ports at
Kanagawa, Niigata, and Hiogo. But Kanagawa being a town situated on the
highroad along which in those days it was usual for the feudal lords and
their immense retinues to travel, and the feeling in many quarters being
decidedly inimical to foreigners, it was deemed inexpedient to make it a
focus of animosity due to the strangers’ settlement therein for purposes
of trade whilst it might remain the recognised resting-place for imperial
and other processions making the journey to and from Kioto and Yedo.
Accordingly it was agreed that the little fishing village of Yokohama,
_lit._: “the beach across the way,” on the other side of the bay of
Kanagawa, which is itself a mere indentation of the coastline of the Gulf
of Tokio, should become the actual place of residence of the foreign
community. From this small beginning in 1859 the port speedily grew to be
the centre of a vast and profitable trade, and its population now numbers
194,000, of whom 2100 are foreigners exclusive of Chinese. It is claimed
for Kobé, a port in the channel separating Shikoku from Hondo, that it
has eclipsed the older port of Yokohama in respect of its commerce, and
it is in some things better situated for trade, particularly with the
tea-producing districts. Kobé was originally a village adjoining Hiogo,
which was the port that it was settled by treaty should be thrown open,
and as a matter of fact it is divided from Hiogo only by a creek, a few
feet wide. The port is now officially styled Kobé-Hiogo, and to all
intents and purposes the two places are one.
Not only did the dai-mios of the western provinces modify their views
on the subject of the admission of strangers but the reigning Emperor
Komei himself ceased to contend at the last against that influx which
if it could not be successfully resisted might very possibly, it was
thought, be turned to good account in preparing the nation to combat
other encroachments of a less pacific character in the days to come. It
may well be that this resolution was arrived at in full view of events
that were taking place in the extreme north of the Empire, where Russia
was little by little feeling her way towards Yeso, and had already seized
the moment of Japan’s preoccupation in respect of domestic concerns to
establish herself in the island of Sakhalin, between which and Yeso
only a narrow strait, twenty-five miles wide, existed to bar the path
of the settlers to the virgin soil and luxuriant forests of “Hokkaido,”
Japan’s “North Sea Circuit.” At all events the Emperor Komei about this
time signified his willingness that the engagements which the Shogun had
entered into with the powers of the Occident should be recognised and
adhered to.
The Shogun Iyemochi, who had been wedded to the Emperor’s sister four
years previously, but who had not during the intervening time wholly
succeeded in overcoming his imperial master’s reluctance to ratify
the treaties which his predecessor in the Shogunate Iyesada had made,
was in 1864 residing at the castle of Osaka,—the stronghold built by
the renowned Hideyoshi (the Tai-ko or generalissimo) at the close of
the Sixteenth Century,—and was thus within a few hours’ journey of
the imperial residence. His visit to Kioto that year (1864) had been
marked by the Ten-shi’s favour despite the remembrance of his failure
to induce the aliens to quit Japan’s shores, and no more had been heard
of the proposition that he should forthwith expel the barbarians and
restore peace to the country. The vital change in the sovereign’s ideas
is believed to have been brought about mainly by the advice of the lord
of the Satsuma province, who, as was to be seen, had changed his own
opinion very considerably after the naval engagement at Kagoshima of
the previous year. There can be no doubt that the influence of Shimadzu
Saburo was largely instrumental in bringing about a reconciliation
between the Emperor and the Shogun, and for the moment harmonious
relations were re-established. The personal quarrel which arose with
the lord Mori of Choshiu would have been a more serious matter for
the Shogun had the Satsuma lord been ready to throw in his lot with
Iyemochi’s opponents, and whatever may have been the feeling on the point
at Hagi the disinclination of Satsuma to join the Choshiu clansmen in
the attack on Kioto may be held to have turned the scale against Mori.
It was not long before the two clans were actually united, however, in a
successful attempt to demolish the Shogunate altogether. It is thought
that when Iyemochi obeyed the summons of the Ten-shi to visit Kioto
with, in the first place, the avowed object of concerting measures for
the expulsion of aliens, he took the fatal step of subordinating his
own party’s policy to that of the Court party, and thereby hastened the
downfall of the Tokugawa family, for the strength of the Shogunate had
lain in the assertion of its prerogatives as inheriting the privileges
of its founder, the law-giver Iyeyasu, and who re-established it in the
beginning of the Seventeenth Century.
But to return to the events of 1864, it was with excellent judgment and
an intuitive perception of the favourable turn which affairs were then
taking that Sir Harry Parkes, the British Minister, who had succeeded
Sir Rutherford Alcock, seized the precise moment to despatch two members
of his Legation staff, Messrs Mitford and Satow,—the present Lord
Redesdale, and Sir Ernest Satow, now British representative at Peking,—to
see the Shogun and personally endeavour to arrive at some satisfactory
arrangement concerning the opening of the remaining ports to trade for
which sanction had been obtained by the provisions of the Elgin treaty.
The visit ended with complete satisfaction to the negotiators, and when
the four powers directly concerned—viz. Holland, France, the United
States, and Britain—urged officially on the Shogun the desirability of
speedily opening Hiogo (Kobé) he agreed to write a letter to his imperial
master suggesting that this should be done. The Emperor Komei at first
refused but ultimately gave his consent. It was settled that Hiogo, and
with it Osaka, should be opened to foreign trade and residence on and
from the 1st of January 1868, which was five years later than had been
contemplated by the framers of the Elgin treaty, but under the then
existing circumstances it was highly creditable to the delegates to have
achieved so much.
The defeat of the Choshiu men in their earlier attempt to capture
Kioto had had the effect of inducing them to study the art of war as
practised in the Occident, and when Iyemochi, in consonance with the
imperial command, sought to chastise Baron Mori, and promptly marched
his troops through the provinces bordering the Inland Sea as far as
Nagato, he found himself confronted by a superior force of riflemen,
armed after the modern fashion, who, though they lacked everything in
the way of military uniform, had acquired sufficient knowledge of drill
and co-operation to render them doughty opponents for any force that
the Shogun could place in the field against them at that stage of the
national development. The men who bore rifles were not in pre-Restoration
days regarded as the highest in rank among soldiers, for the Japanese
had of old a predilection for the personal combat, hand to hand, and
were prone to despise warfare of the kind in which a missile was hurled
at the foe from a comparatively safe distance. Thus the swordsman
ranked highest in Japanese estimation down to a very recent period,—but
the Choshiu riflemen proved by their able use of modern firearms that
a power such as had been before unknown in relation to implements of
strife lay in the weapons that they so coolly and dexterously handled to
the complete discomfiture of their enemies. And thus was laid, it may
be supposed, the foundation of that high standard of superiority which
the Choshiu troops have since attained as regards their ability to wage
war on modern principles. They developed a natural aptitude for the
employment of firearms from a date long prior to the present Emperor’s
reign, and for some years were the only force in Japan that might be said
to have adopted western armaments, with perhaps the sole exception of a
force of foreign-drilled infantry (some 800 in all), belonging to the
Shogun, under Kubota Sentaro, which took part on behalf of the Japanese
authorities in a review and sham fight that was held at Kanasawa, near
Yokohama, on the 21st March 1866, at a time when it was needful to have a
few British troops in the town for purposes of defence against a possible
sudden descent of some recalcitrant dai-mio’s followers.
The Shogunate was tottering to its fall when it sought in June 1865 to
suppress the Choshiu rising, and signally failed to do so. Only a few
months later the Shogun Iyemochi died (August 1866), and was succeeded
by Hitotsubashi Yoshinobu, a scion of the Mito branch of the Tokugawa
family, and who is in more modern times alluded to as the Prince Keiki.
The letters of which the Japanese pronunciation would be Yoshinobu are,
when given their approximate Chinese sounds, to be read as Keiki, hence
the two renderings of the Shogun’s name. Tokugawa signifies the “river
of abundance,” and Keiki or Yoshinobu mean “goodness and joy,” the
signification of the characters remaining unaltered, of course, whichever
may be the system of pronunciation adopted. Shortly after Keiki’s
accession to the Shogun’s seat the trouble in Choshiu was brought to an
end by the lord Mori’s submission. Into the cause of that there is no
need to enter here as it will be found to have been fully discussed in
the chapter on the career of Marshal Yamagata. Peace was only nominally
restored, for the reason that greater events were in preparation, and the
country was now on the eve of those marvellous changes which ushered in
the era of Meiji,—the period of Enlightened Rule,—by which his present
Majesty chose that his reign should be known to posterity. The Emperor
Komei’s decease followed very quickly upon that of the Shogun Iyemochi.
Keiki had been Shogun only four months when Komei Tenno died and was
succeeded by his son Mutsuhito, who happily still reigns over an adoring
and devoted people, distinguished among the nations of the earth for
their unfaltering attachment to the imperial throne and for the intense
loyalty and patriotism they display towards its wise and benevolent
occupant. It happened that at the moment when the Emperor Mutsuhito came
to the throne Japan was torn by conflicting political views on the
subject of the advisability of re-opening the country to foreign trade
and intercourse, after having been closed to foreigners down to 1854 from
a date early in the Seventeenth Century. The treaties which the Shogun
had entered into with the representatives of Foreign Powers, during
the lifetime of the Emperor Komei, still gave anything but unalloyed
satisfaction to one section, and that a very numerous and implacable
one, of the body politic, and the land was a prey to the most bitter
dissensions. A large proportion of the so-termed anti-foreign party was
sincere in its outcry for the expulsion of foreigners only so far as it
might be the means to an end. No doubt there were thousands in Japan at
that time who were genuinely hostile to strangers, and honestly believed
that the land would be well rid of the intruders, but it is nevertheless
true that these patriots, as they unquestionably deemed themselves,
were exploited by the Reformers whose main ambition it was to see the
country again governed by the Ten-shi himself, and not, as had so long
been the rule, by his lieutenant the Shogun. It is due to the curious and
altogether anomalous state of affairs that then existed that we have in
the Makers of Modern Japan many men who at one time belonged to the party
which openly advocated the expulsion of all aliens. Whatsoever may have
been their real feelings at the time towards strangers, it is evident
that their first care was to put an end to the dual system of control
from Kioto and Yedo, and to restore the supreme power to the hands of the
Ten-shi.
It is due to the memory of the Emperor Komei, though no great change was
accomplished in his reign, to acknowledge the foresight he displayed in
having his son and heir educated on liberal lines, thoroughly fitted for
the duties of active sovereignty over his people, so that when the moment
arrived for a revolution in the system of administration the youthful
monarch was equipped with knowledge regarding the outer world and its
chequered history that had never been acquired by his august predecessors
on the imperial throne, coupled with broad and noble ideas of government
far in advance of his years. The stirring events of 1867 and 1868
therefore found his Majesty not unprepared for the tasks devolving upon
him. His training had indeed been almost Spartan in its rigour and
simplicity, among the family of the Court noble to whose care he had
been entrusted. Strict discipline is rather the rule than the exception
in Japan in regard to the education of princes, and in the youth of the
Emperor Mutsuhito there was no departure from established custom,—on the
contrary, the Emperor his father had enjoined upon the noble charged with
the heir-apparent’s education the necessity of making him a hardy rather
than a delicate youth, and he was encouraged, therefore, to take delight
in horsemanship and manly sports, the ancient game of da-kiu (Japanese
polo) being much played in the palace grounds at that period. It is even
said that he smelt powder before he was twelve years old, for the battle
between the Choshiu men and the Shogun’s forces already mentioned took
place in Kioto close to the imperial residence, and bullets flew in all
directions among the palace buildings. As an equestrian his majesty
shines conspicuously, for he is an accomplished rider, and takes a keen
delight in the field manœuvres which in peace time are annually carried
out in one part or another of his dominions. On these occasions it is
no uncommon thing for the Emperor to be in the saddle day after day for
a week together, and it may well be that to the profound study that he
is well known by his troops to make, at all times, of the needs of his
army, must in part be ascribed the firm belief of officers and men that
they win battles by virtue of his beneficent interest in their welfare.
He enjoys following his troops in their prolonged marches, when carrying
out their regular training, and never hesitates to mount his charger
in the roughest weather, on the principle that what his men are asked
to do in the sense of exposure to the elements, he is ready himself to
undertake. Alike under the hottest sun or the most drenching rain, he
takes his stand on some eminence to watch them defile before him, utterly
regardless of personal comfort or of danger to his health. In this he
but evinces his complete repugnance to a life of luxurious ease, and it
is to be said of his whole career, both prior to his accession to the
throne of his ancestors and since, that he has never spared himself in
any one particular, but has been a hard worker from his boyhood, with
little or no disposition to indulge in play or relaxation of any kind
save the mental recreation involved in the daily composition of a stanza
of poetry. At another page will be found almost literal reproductions
of some of his Majesty’s latest efforts in this direction, inspired,
no doubt, by the circumstances of the terrible struggle in Manchuria,
wherein so many thousands of his warriors have sacrificed their lives for
the empire of which he is the revered head.