During the reign of the Emperor Nin-ko, in the first year of the Tempo

era, which corresponded to A.D. 1830, there was born in Cho-shiu

province, south-west Niphon, Yoshida Torajiro, the son of _samurai_

parents, who were retainers of the dai-mio Mori, the lord of the fief.

Yoshida’s birthplace was the little village of Matsushita (Under the

pines), close to the town of Hagi, on the west coast of Niphon, facing

the peninsula of Korea. From his earliest years Yoshida was an ardent

student of Chinese literature, and exhibited an extreme cleverness as

a child that won for him uncommon fame in the district. So proficient

had he become in this department of study that at the age of eleven he

was called on to lecture on a topic of military history in the presence

of his feudal chieftain, the dai-mio Mori Kei-shin, and his erudition

was the source of the utmost astonishment to his hearers. When he was

nineteen he set out on a tour through the island of Kiu-shiu, his main

object being to make the acquaintance of those prominent men in the south

of Japan who just then had raised the cry of “loyalty to the Emperor,

expulsion of all foreigners.” This sentiment, it will be observed, did

not have its origin in the later fifties, as might have been supposed

from the frequency with which it was then heard, after Perry’s visits had

led to the conclusion of treaties of peace and amity, but was prevalent

as far back as the year 1849, when the only aliens in the country were

a few Dutchmen at Nagasaki. The feeling at that time was perhaps only

local, for it was to the vicinity of that port that Yoshida wended his

way in the evident belief that he would there meet with those who most

strongly entertained this opinion of the proper course to be taken with

the intruders. No doubt his youthful impressions had been stimulated

by the reading of the _Nihon Gaishi_, a work on Japanese history,

written by Rai Sanyo, that at that period was intensely popular. His

father’s influence, moreover, was all in the same direction, and the

circumstances all point to Yoshida’s having imbibed principles that were

distinctly adverse to the retention of foreigners in the country under

any conditions whatever. Precisely what effect his travels in Kiushiu

had on his mind can never be known, but it may be assumed with tolerable

safety that he journeyed to Nagasaki and there saw the Dutchmen dwelling

in their own fashion in the quaint little settlement of Deshima, where

they were all but prisoners, though allowed to carry on their trade.

In the meantime the Emperor Ko-mei, father of the reigning monarch, had

succeeded Ninko on the throne, and the era bore the title of Ka-ei.

It lasted until 1854, and it was when it was in its fourth year that

Yoshida went to Yedo and there met, as described in a previous chapter,

with Sakuma Shozan, whose pupil he became. At this time Sakuma was forty

years old, and Yoshida was twenty-two. From their first meeting Yoshida

recognised in the elder man a greatness of intellect and grandeur of

aim that fascinated him, and led him there and then to appreciate the

opportunity afforded him of becoming Sakuma’s disciple. More especially

was he convinced of the soundness of Sakuma’s views on the importance

of coast defence, and at his suggestion undertook a journey into the

provinces of Sagami and Awa, with the express object of searching out

the most suitable positions, from a strategical point of view, for the

defence of Yedo Bay. It will be perceived, as constituting a matter of

no trifling interest, that the defence of the coast was under anxious

consideration two years at least prior to the arrival off Uraga of

Commodore Perry and his squadron of “black ships,” so that it cannot be

said that these measures were proposed as a direct consequence of the

American expedition’s advent in Japanese waters. After visiting Awa and

Sagami Yoshida went north to the Tsugaru Straits and Hakodate, having

the same purpose ever before him, the strengthening of his country’s

defences against the intrusion of foreign powers.

In 1853, the year of Perry’s arrival, Yoshida was again in Yedo, but

in September of that year he went once more to Nagasaki. His secret

purpose was then to embark for Europe in a Russian cruiser, but by the

time he reached the port named the vessel had sailed, so that his hopes

were entirely frustrated. Sakuma had recommended him to make his way to

Europe, if possible, because, as he said, if Yoshida desired to form an

adequate idea of the most efficient means of providing for the security

of the Japanese coasts it was first requisite that he should fully

comprehend the conditions under which the protection of their own coasts

was successfully undertaken by foreign nations. It was on this advice

that he sought by every means at his command to obtain a passage to some

foreign land, and in the following year, when the American warships

again visited Uraga, Yoshida made his next attempt, in company with a

faithful servant who very possibly hoped also to get away to a land where

there would be no restrictions on their movements, and entire liberty of

thought could be secured. It is a matter for regret that his ambitions

in this regard were once more frustrated, for in Yoshida there can be no

doubt that Japan had a truly patriotic son, one who, had the opportunity

been afforded him, would have achieved distinct success in the direction

which he had marked out for himself, the preservation of Japan for the

Japanese. In Yoshida’s case, as in all others with which I am acquainted,

the innate patriotism that he had inherited had been aroused and

stimulated by the experiences that the neighbouring Chinese Empire had

undergone. In common with other people in the Far East, he had heard

of the occupation of Canton, and of Chusan, of the expedition up the

Yang-tsu-kiang, and of the forcible opening to foreign commerce of the

ports of Ningpo, Amoy, and Shanghai. Such doings were of dire portent for

the dwellers in Dai Niphon, for if the Chinese, who for so many centuries

had in the arts and sciences led Japan, found themselves reduced to

the necessity of conforming to the will of the Western invaders, by

reason of a laxity in preparation for national defence, how much more

incumbent must it be upon the Japanese, with only their islands to call

their own, and no hinterland to retire into, strenuously to make ready

for eventualities. Yoshida’s request for a passage to the United States

was refused,—Commodore Perry mentions him as Isagi Kooda,—and he was

imprisoned for having attempted to quit Japan at a time when emigration

was forbidden.

In the following year Yoshida was confined to his own house at

Matsushima, in the province of Cho-shiu, but a year later, in the third

of the An-sei era, the discipline was so far relaxed as to admit of his

taking pupils for the study of military books. It was probably at this

period that he wrote to a Court noble, by name Ohara Shigetami, who held

very similar views on the subject of the foreigners’ invasion, begging

him to visit Cho-shiu for the purpose of starting an agitation there

in favour of the “expulsion of barbarians and the restoration of the

Ten-shi to supreme control,” that twofold object on which a majority of

the patriots of the age laid stress in the belief that its attainment

was wholly indispensable to the welfare of the nation. In truth

Yoshida’s teaching of military subjects was little more than a cover for

the inoculation of his pupils with the principles of a most resolute

antagonism to the Bakufu—_i.e._ the system of government by the Tokugawa

line of Sho-guns, a plan of vicarious rule in which he could discern

nothing for his country but disaster. A school was at this time opened

in the village of Matsushima by two uncles of Yoshida Sho-in, named Kubo

and Tamaki, and after a while Yoshida succeeded them in the management

thereof; it deserves more than a passing reference, for it was destined

to be the cradle, as it were, of the revolution of 1868, by which the

present Emperor was led to abandon the life of utter seclusion that it

had for centuries been customary for the occupants of the Japanese throne

to lead, and to take upon himself the actual rule of his dominions. Among

those who attended this school were not a few to whom fell the lot of

fighting, a short time afterwards, at Fushimi, in the tremendous contest

for supremacy which took place between the adherents of the Sho-gun and

those who sided with Choshiu and Satsuma.

Yoshida conducted the village school for two years and a half, from

July 1856 to December 1858, but in the latter month he was arrested,

and thrown into gaol for having, it was alleged, incited his pupils to

plot against the Tokugawa dynasty, and planned the assassination, his

enemies asserted, of the Minister Manabe Norikatsu, a member of the

Government. It is certain, whatever degree of guilt may have attached to

him in other respects, that he consistently challenged the wisdom of the

Tokugawa’s foreign policy, and advocated most zealously the abolition of

that form of administration, becoming in consequence the object of a most

determined persecution by the Yedo Government.

After an incarceration lasting five months in his native province he was

transferred to the Temmacho Prison in Yedo, and its doors closed over

him in July 1859. On the 27th of October following he was decapitated

in obedience to the orders of the Bakufu, and thus at the early age of

twenty-nine ended the career of one of Japan’s most earnest patriots.

While his aim was the retention of Japan for the Japanese, and his

determined antagonism to the Shogunate arose from its willingness to

enter into treaties for the opening of the Empire to foreign trade,

the object sought by his followers was the destruction of the Tokugawa

dynasty itself, and their opposition to foreign intercourse proceeded not

from antipathy to the Occidentals so much as from a paramount desire to

put an end to the dual form of administration. The cry of “Expulsion of

the Alien” was raised by Yoshida’s disciples in the expectation that acts

inimical to the strangers would embroil the Bakufu with those Western

Powers, the subjects of which were by degrees attaining a foothold in

the country, and that government by the Shogunate would then become an

impossibility.

VI

MARQUIS ITO

A Statesman of transcendent ability, the Marquis Ito Hirobumi of

necessity has his detractors. By the vast majority of the nation,

however, his political views are deemed wholly acceptable, and in regard

to the value of his services to his country there are not in Japan two

opinions. He was born in September 1841, at Kumagé, in the province of

Cho-shiu, otherwise Nagato, in south-west Japan. By birth a samurai,

he spent his boyhood in studies suitable to his station in life, and

became proficient in the military exercises which were prescribed for the

retainers of the feudal barons, but from the time of Commodore Perry’s

arrival in 1853 his aspirations became directed into a new channel, and

his reading especially took a turn in the direction of the adaptation

of foreign methods to the needs of Japan. In this he was associated

with many of his fellow-clansmen whose names have become in later years

household words in the country of their birth, and are almost equally

well known to the people of other lands. Yamagata, Kido, Takasugi,

Yamao, Inouye Kaoru, with many others who have since risen to fame, were

fellow-students of the political and military systems of the Occidental

nations, striving desperately to acquire information that should guide

them in their project of raising their country to the level of the

leading powers of the world.

[Illustration: MARQUIS ITO]

The little knot of reformers was headed by Takasugi, a man of samurai

rank who was considerably the senior of his colleagues in age, and one

of the earliest acts of the party, on ascertaining the attitude of the

lord of the province towards the Bakufu, was to put itself in a posture

of something like rebellion against his authority. The reformers sought

to organise a substantial resistance in Cho-shiu to the policy of the

Shogun, who had, it was urged, betrayed the best interests of his country

by entering into treaties with foreigners. Ostensibly, if not actually,

the leaders of this anti-Bakufu league were hostile to innovations from

the Occident, but they were willing to avail themselves of Western arts

and sciences to the end that their own position might be strengthened

to oppose the Shogun’s administration, and accordingly we find the new

military system gaining ground notwithstanding the avowed antagonism of

the reformers to the invasion of their country by the originators of that

system.

At Hagi, a town beautifully situated on the west coast of Nagato, and

the castle town of the lord of that province, the reformers gradually

matured their plans and drilled a small army of their fellow-samurai in

the martial exercises of the West as set forth in books of which they had

become possessed at Nagasaki and elsewhere, mainly in the Dutch tongue.

It is recorded of Ito Shunsuke that he earnestly strove to make himself

acquainted with Occidental progress, and became by degrees a competent

English scholar, thus equipping himself for the course of Western travel

which he was able to undertake in the year 1863, when he left his country

for the first time on the long voyage to Europe in a sailing vessel

belonging to Jardine Matheson & Company of Shanghai, for whom Glover &

Company, British merchants of Nagasaki,—a port which had been opened to

foreign trade four years previously,—were agents.

Ito Shunsuke, as he was then named, was one of many young men of Samurai

rank who, with the view of acquiring information which they felt might

the better enable them to do good service to their country, were willing

to undergo all kinds of privations and run all risks in order that they

might add to their store of knowledge. Glover & Company, as agents

for the owners, Jardine Matheson & Company, facilitated the escape

of the young men, who were concealed in a garden at Yokohama, their

queues having previously been cut off and their hair trimmed in foreign

fashion, until the sailing ship was prepared to weigh anchor, when they

were stealthily put on board by their English friends. It is due to

the Marquis Ito to say that he has never failed to acknowledge in most

graceful terms his indebtedness at the outset of his career to the aid he

thus received from those who were not of his own land.

On his return to Japan twelve months later he found that his feudal

chief, the dai-mio of Cho-shiu, had become involved in a dispute with the

Bakufu, or Government of the Sho-gun, concerning right-of-way through

the Shimonoseki Straits, which separate the Cho-shiu territory from the

adjoining island of Kiu-shiu. The lord of the province was averse to

the free entry of foreign vessels into the Inland Sea from the west,

and had signified his disapproval by firing on ships that attempted the

passage of the straits, from batteries which he had placed on the hills

above. The Bakufu had failed to convince the Cho-shiu chieftain that the

channel ought to be open to all comers, and despairing of its own ability

to put a stop to the systematic interference with foreign shipping, had

authorised the admirals of the Western Powers to take such measures as

they thought fit. Ito Shunsuke, with his knowledge of the naval and

military strength of the Occident amplified by personal inspection at

the European capitals, saw that his lord was inviting disaster by his

arbitrary treatment of the strangers, and sought to dissuade him from

continuing the attacks on passing shipping, but the feudal baron was

resolved to persist in his endeavour to check the influx of foreign

ideas, and Ito had to return to the ship in which he had taken passage,

with this express object in view, from Yokohama, with his mission

unfulfilled. The foreign men-of-war had been at the time assembled in

Yedo Bay preparatory to setting out for the Inland Sea, on their way to

the Shimonoseki Straits to engage the Choshiu batteries, and the two

young men of that province, for in this matter Ito was associated with

his fellow-clansman Inouye, deemed it expedient to endeavour to convince

their lord that however skilful might be the Choshiu gunners, it would be

impossible for them to hold their own against the formidable armaments of

the Western warships. In this long and self-imposed, and, as it turned

out to be, useless journey to the capital of his native province from the

coast, Ito was accompanied by this friend and fellow-student Inouye, who

had likewise been to Europe with him,—no other than the present Count

Inouye Kaoru, who is elsewhere referred to in this book.

To appreciate the nature of the services thus early rendered to his

clan and to the nation at large, it must be remembered that the laws

under which emigration to countries abroad was prohibited, and which

had been framed in the days of Iyeyasu, were still in force. Special

permission was needed for any Japanese to quit his native shores, and

in case of surreptitious departure without the formality having been

observed it was somewhat risky to return. Ito and Inouye had contrived

to reach Europe without complying with the regulations, and were liable

to certain penalties in consequence, so that in undertaking to visit

Choshiu with the object of making representations to their chieftain Mori

they had to brave his anger for their disobedience to the regulations in

the first place, apart from the character of their mission, which was,

to say the least of it, one not calculated to appease the wrath of a

noble who held strong views on the subject of dealings with foreigners

in general. The journey from the little coast town in the Inland Sea

where the envoys, garbed as doctors of medicine, were put ashore by a

boat from the British warship _Barrosa_ in which they had come south

from Yokohama was not more than sixteen Japanese leagues (forty English

miles) in length, but the track lay across mountains, and the only means

of conveyance were _kago_ of the type used in the hills, mere baskets

slung from poles borne on the shoulders of two men, who walked at about

four miles an hour. The mission, as already said, was a complete failure,

for the lord of Cho-shiu refused to pay any attention to the letters

from Foreign Ambassadors, or to listen to the faintest suggestion that

his batteries were not a match for anything that the foreign ships

might carry, and he was resolved that the gates of Bakan,—otherwise

Akamagaseki, the Red Horse Barrier,—should not be thrown open without

a struggle. The _Barrosa_ returned to Yokohama, and shortly afterwards

the combined fleet, comprising British, French, Dutch, and American

vessels, accordingly steamed south to the Straits, and the memorable

battle of Shimonoseki, of 1864, was fought, with the result that the

Cho-shiu guns were speedily silenced. On a low hill at the back of the

town, overlooking the swift-flowing waters of the straits, is a tiny

graveyard where repose the Cho-shiu men who fell in that final effort to

close the door to Western trade. On the opposite shore are two or three

neglected graves which local tradition declares to be the burial places

of the French soldiers who were victims to the Cho-shiu artillerymen.

The gunners were aided by archers, one of the foreigners killed having

been transfixed by an arrow. Some day it may be feasible, perhaps, to

have the spot suitably marked where rest those who did their duty as

gallantly as did their foes whose memories are honoured with well-kept

tombs on the other side of the narrow channel in which the fierce combat

occurred. It was long believed that the foreigners who fell were buried

at sea, but still living witnesses of the battle aver that three bodies

were brought ashore on the Moji side and interred in the field which

abuts on the beach, and where mounds of earth are distinctly traceable,

or at all events were visible when the writer was engaged in work there

some years ago. In his task he had the assistance of several Cho-shiu

men who had taken part in the operations against us, and who bore the

scars of injuries received while serving their own guns. There was not

the slightest sign at any time manifested of resentment,—though the fight

had taken place too recently to be other than fresh in the memory. It was

felt that the best use had been made of the weapons that the province

then possessed, and that no disgrace attached to defeat under such

conditions,—moreover, had not the British bluejackets landed immediately

the firing ceased, and striven might and main to extinguish the flames

which had been ravaging the town as a consequence of the fight in its

immediate neighbourhood? The inhabitants of Shimonoseki will never forget

that the victors proved themselves to be generous foes, and nothing but

good will has been exhibited towards strangers in the now flourishing

port ever since.

Ito Shunsuke was much occupied for the ensuing two years in Kioto, where

his knowledge of Europe became of immense value to his party, and in

preparations for the struggle with the Bakufu which it was plain could

not be long delayed.

The main incidents of those two years are recorded elsewhere in

connection with the career of Prince Sanjo, and it will suffice to

mention here that immediately on the resignation of the last of the

Sho-guns, whose adherents continued the war, nevertheless, for some

months longer, Ito was busily occupied with plans for the institution

of government on a Western model, to the careful study of which he had

devoted himself while absent in the capitals of Europe. It was a period

of intense political excitement and unrest, and as the Marquis not long

since declared, little thought entered the minds of men other than the

all-absorbing idea of restoring the supreme power to the dynasty of the

true sovereigns of Japan, and abolishing for ever the influence of the

Tokugawa line of Sho-guns.

It is comparatively little known that the statesman who has been for

fifty years prominent in every great work connected with the advancement

of his country upon Western lines and has advocated the adoption of every

foreign institution that would be calculated to benefit his native land

was in his young days opposed to the influx of strangers, having been an

ardent follower of the Jo-I party which was adverse to the cultivation of

foreign relations. He was brought up in this school of thought, having

been a pupil for some time of Yoshida Shoin, who is elsewhere alluded to

in this volume, and when he at first favoured the introduction of Western

appliances and methods it was purely in order that the defence of the

empire should be secured against foreign aggression.

After the Restoration to the direct exercise of the prerogatives of

sovereignty of his present Majesty in 1867, and the final suppression

of the revolted northern clans, the opening of the port of Hiogo to

foreign trade became an accomplished fact, and Ito Shunsuke, as he

was still named, received the appointment of Governor. Though the port

was officially styled Hiogo, the residences of the foreign merchants,

indeed the whole “Settlement” in which they lived and transacted their

business, was situated in the adjoining town of Kobé, under which name

the port has become best known to Europeans, and latterly as Kobé-Hiogo.

It has had many famous men as its Governor in the years that have passed,

notably the present Minister to Great Britain, Viscount Hayashi, and

the office may be said to have been the stepping-stone to still greater

distinction in more than one instance, but Kobé will never forget that

he who is often almost affectionately referred to as the “grand old man”

of Japan was the first to occupy the chair as its chief magistrate. This

was in 1868, when he was yet a young man of twenty-seven, and he was

selected, it may be assumed, for this responsible post on account of his

exceptional acquaintance with Europe and its people, and with the habits

and requirements of foreign residents in general.

His subordinates at Hiogo, during the time he was Governor, were like

himself young and progressive men, entirely at one with the propaganda

of the new and progressive policy which aimed at the consolidation of

the Empire and the development of all its resources. Many proposals were

put forward by Governor Ito at this period with the view of remodelling

all branches of the imperial polity, in particular with respect to

the imposition of taxes, military education, and so on, covering a

wide field. Their advocacy of these measures procured for Ito and his

associates at the time the designation of holders of the “Hiogo view.”

It was really Ito who inspired Kido, the famous statesman whose history

is recorded in another chapter, with the resolve to take up the question

of the total abolition of the feudal system, and which rapidly gained

supporters in many quarters, to the extent that in a few years it came to

be an accomplished fact.

As Governor of Kobé-Hiogo, he won the highest esteem of all classes, but

he was not destined to remain long in that office, for he was called to

Tokio next year to undertake the duties of Finance Vice-Minister, and

the following spring he went to the United States to study the monetary

system of that country, a task to which he devoted himself for the

ensuing twelve months, returning to his own land in 1871.

While away he wrote the following memorandum on “Reasons for basing the

Japanese new coinage on the metric system.”

Makers of Japan · 第 11 / 29 段