eulogy of my country, I regret that I do not feel entitled
to the praise that has been showered upon me. The progress of
Japan in the past is entirely due to the powerful guidance
of her sovereign and the loyal patriotism of her people. All
that I have done for my country does not exceed the limits
of having served as one of the links in the harmonious
co-operation of advancing civilisation. I am unworthy of the
high opinion which his lordship has been good enough to express
of me. I think it may not be out of place to give expression
to my profound satisfaction at the cordial relations which
have existed for nearly a century between England and Japan.
It was the English people who were the first to come to our
shores as the harbingers of civilisation. Who could compute
now the number of Japanese who speak the English language or
the closeness of the relations which now exist? I was one of
the first Japanese to come to this country thirty-eight years
ago—a country equally hospitable then as now. Since then
how many of our countrymen have been studying in England in
commerce, education, industries, the navy, and in the venerable
institutions of education and learning? And how many of your
institutions—social and political—have served as models in our
task of assimilating Western civilisation? I need not remind
you that we have never failed in our profound admiration of
England and English ideas, and its excellent self-governing
institutions. And how many of your countrymen have lent us a
helping hand in the education and regeneration of our land, as
tutors, professors, and as employees in the different branches
of our public life, and, above all, in commerce, as constantly
intermingling with the ever-increasing network of peaceful
relations between the two countries? I believe that the focus
of international competition is moving steadily towards the
Pacific Ocean, and pledged as we are, not only by our historic
relations with the west, but also the east, we are destined
to play an ever-increasing part in the development of that
portion of the globe. It is only natural for me to believe and
sincerely hope that the continuance of those friendly feelings
and sympathies which have existed in the past shall be daily
more strongly cemented. With these hopes and convictions I
trust I may be excused if I construe this hospitality as one of
the many tokens of the continuation of our past friendship.”
At the dinner given the evening prior to his departure for Paris, on his
way home, the Marquis was the recipient from Lord Lansdowne on behalf of
the King, of the order of Honorary Knight Grand Cross of the Bath.
On his way to London the Marquis had passed through Russia, where he
was received in special audience by the Tsar, and Count Lamsdorff gave
a Ministerial Banquet in his honour. From St Petersburg he travelled
to Germany, Italy, and Belgium, receiving at Potsdam a decoration from
the Kaiser, at a banquet specially arranged, the tour through Europe
being one of unalloyed satisfaction to the veteran statesman, and of
exceptional value to his country, in that he obtained information
at first hand regarding the status of political parties, and added
to his store of knowledge on subjects connected with the science of
constitutional government, which is one of the many matters on which he
is privileged to be the trusted adviser of his sovereign, in virtue of
his position as President of the Council.
In this necessarily imperfect sketch of the strenuous life of Marquis
Ito I have touched mainly on his public career, leaving to the last any
reference to the simplicity and usefulness of his private life in town
and country, the one permeated with the anxieties and perplexities of
a statesman’s daily round of duty, the other a restful freedom from
political worry always to be secured in his seaside villa at Oiso. In
a measure the Marquis may be said to have made Oiso, for it was not
until he had a house built there, within sound of the waves of the
Pacific, that the wayside village and posting station of ancient times
became known as a health resort and acquired a certain notoriety as a
convenient seaside bathing-place. Oiso will never be a Brighton or an
Eastbourne, perhaps, but it has a pretty collection of villa residences
close to the shore, and it has for a background the peerless Fujiyama,
while the Pacific billows rattle the shingle on its extensive beach. Here
it is that the veteran statesman is visited by his life-long friends,
those “elder statesmen” of the new regime who recognise in him their
experienced chief and are by the nation regarded, in the main, as its
safest guides and counsellors in all that appertains to the welfare of
the country.
It is here that he seeks repose when jaded with the cares of office,
for although he no longer heads a Ministry, and is therefore exempt,
it might be imagined, from the storm and stress of party politics, his
advice is as much sought and valued as it ever was, and his presence in
the capital is often indispensable to the adjustment of matters of the
highest national importance. According to Western ideas the Marquis is
not a wealthy man,—as Premier his salary was less than a thousand pounds
a year,—but on the other hand his tastes are not expensive, and like the
vast majority of his countrymen he lives a frugal, almost abstemious,
life in which neither the pleasures of the table nor the dissipations
of society have any share. He is essentially a man of active habits,
and betrays in no marked degree the weight of years or the strain of
his long-continued and invaluable services to his nation. He feels a
justifiable pride in the achievements of the Japanese army and navy, for
he was among the first to perceive that if Japan would take her stand
among the powers of the world she must provide herself with, first of
all, the means to add weight to her arguments in the council. In some
respects the most critical period of Japan’s development was from 1892
to 1896, which covered the war of 1894-5 with China, and throughout this
term the hand of the Marquis was on the helm, steering the ship of State
through the exceedingly troubled waters produced firstly by the war
itself and secondly by the oppressive action of three European powers
which deprived the victor in the struggle of the fruits, in no small
degree, of the victories achieved. Japan had then to stomach an affront
which she could never forgive, and Ito has lived to see the day when by
the might of her sons Japan has been avenged. Not completely, perhaps, in
the opinion of some, but sufficiently so to justify the adoption of the
policy which he advocated, for,—come what may,—his country has obtained a
place in the front rank of naval and military powers of which the future,
be it favourable or unfavourable, can by no means wholly deprive her.
His patient courage and determination in the hour of trial have extorted
admiration on all sides. His sober judgment and wise discretion in the
conduct of affairs of State have won for him the entire confidence and
regard of his countrymen wherever they are to be found. His adaptability
has ever been one of his distinguishing characteristics. In his choice
of a model he has confined himself to no one country or system but
has framed his progressive measures, whether of naval or military
organisation, of public works, or of administrative improvement, with an
absolute freedom from bias that has enabled him to secure for his nation
in all cases that which is most suited to its needs, and which in actual
practice has proved the most beneficial throughout.
In his grand conception of a reformed and reinvigorated Japan under
a written constitution and codified laws based upon the best that
could be gleaned of Occidental modes of procedure, the Marquis Ito was
instrumental in conferring upon his country a series of benefits such
as by no ordinary combination of fortuitous circumstances could it have
obtained in the lifetime of an individual, however exalted. His early
visit to the Occident afforded him an insight into methods of government
which had borne the test of time, and by his accurate judgment and
skilful interpretation of the demands of a people who were yearning for
enlightenment and freedom he gauged to perfection the possibilities of
a wholesale adaptation of Western arts and sciences to the requirements
of his own land. Among the lessons learned in the course of an extended
tour through Europe and America by the Iwakura Embassy in 1872 had been
the imperative need of adopting measures of defence against the even
then palpably inimical designs of Russia in regard to Japan’s position.
If the travellers had been deeply impressed with the power and wealth of
the Occidental nations they were not less convinced by what they saw of
the need of an efficient system of national protection by sea and land.
In his representations to his sovereign the future Premier dwelt then,
there is reason to believe, on the advantages of a policy of preparation
for eventualities such as in recent times has borne good fruit in a
hundred ways. It is to the Marquis Ito Hirobumi more than to any other
individual statesman that the honour belongs of having brought his
country, subject to the guidance of a wise and revered monarch, through
a period of unexampled peril in respect of its domestic condition, and
of frequent crises in its foreign relations. Troubles have lately arisen
owing to the action of one of the Great Powers, and for which Japan is in
no sense to be held responsible, by which the efficiency of her naval and
military organisations was for a year and a half subjected to the most
severe tests, but the final results were of a character to still further
elevate the status of the country among the nations of the earth and to
confirm its claim to consideration as the most potent, enlightened, and
progressive of any in the Orient.
Korea, by the terms of the Peace Settlement of 1905, has come under
the protection of Japan, and Marquis Ito has assumed the duties of
Resident-General; the speedy development of the peninsula under Japanese
auspices may therefore be looked for. Already there is a large Japanese
population, and both Korean and Japanese children attend the Japanese
schools at Seoul, where special attention is given to physical drill. The
photograph shows the girls exercising with the _naginata_, a weapon which
the daughters of samurai were taught in the olden time to wield most
effectively.
VII
PRINCE IWAKURA TOMOMI
There may be some who yet remember Tenniel’s cartoon in _Punch_ of
1872 depicting a Japanese nobleman attired in orthodox _haori_ and
_hakama_ and wearing two swords in his girdle, watching a faction fight
in Ireland, and remarking to the Archbishop of Canterbury,—“These,
your grace, I suppose, are Heathens?” To which the answer was: “On
the contrary, your Excellency, they are among our most enthusiastic
Religionists!” The figure in the ancient costume of Japan was intended
to represent Prince Iwakura, the head of an Embassy which included Ito,
Kido, Okubo, and others whose names are familiar enough to the people
of the Occident to-day but were then as strange to their ears as can
well be imagined. The visitors had come to England from the Far East by
way of America, and were here to learn all that it was likely would be
useful to the people of their own land to know. When he quitted Japan
on the mission to Europe and America Prince Iwakura was U-dai-jin, or
Vice-Chancellor of the Right, and had always occupied a high position
at the Court of Kioto, being a _Kuge_—_i.e._ a member of the old
nobility—by birth. He had, like Prince Sanjo, been a prominent leader,
intellectually, in the great transitional period of 1867-71, and was
thoroughly imbued with the tenets of the kai-koku section of the Japanese
body-politic, though he can scarcely be said to have been a whole-souled
advocate of unrestricted intercourse with foreign nations,—not at any
rate until after his visit to the capitals of the West in 1872.
[Illustration: PRINCE IWAKURA TOMOMI]
The prince began his life at the palace as one of the _Jiju_, or junior
chamberlains in the imperial service at Kioto. This was in the year 1848,
when he was about sixteen years of age. In the month of February 1858,
at the time when the American Minister Townsend Harris was pressing the
Government of Yedo for the completion of a new treaty with the United
States, it happened that Hotto, the feudal lord of Bichiu, was sent to
Kioto by the Shogun to explain the critical state of affairs, and with
the request that the Emperor Komei, who was then on the throne, would
give his sanction to the conclusion of the treaty referred to. But
several of the _Kuge_ protested, Iwakura being one of them, and presented
a memorial to the Emperor, urging him not to consent to the Shogun’s
proposition. As far as Iwakura was concerned, it was not through any
disposition towards factious opposition to the Bakufu that he protested,
as was to be well comprehended from the fact that when the Bakufu was
being urged by the Court party to expel foreigners from Japan altogether,
and the Tokugawa officials realising the impossibility of carrying out
the imperial commands, and that it was mainly due to the circumstance
that the _kuge_ had the ear of the ruler at Kioto, yet pretended to
acquiesce, and suggested that the _Kuge_ should unite with the samurai
in the effort to turn out the Westerners, the intention being that the
_kuge_ should thus come to see the folly of attempting to shut up the
treaty ports, Iwakura at once said publicly that the Bakufu’s suggestion
was just and right. The idea of his taking this view of the matter was,
however, so displeasing to the Emperor Komei that Iwakura was ordered
to shave his head and go into retirement until further orders. Thus it
was by his impartial attitude that he made enemies among those who were
opponents of the Shogun, and they dubbed him _Sabakuka_, or helper of the
Bakufu, ostracising him so completely that no one went near him. As a
matter of fact he was no friend to the Bakufu, but he was a fair-minded
man, not afraid to give utterance to his convictions, and did not approve
of the principle of wantonly opposing every step that the Shogun might
find it advisable to take.
While Iwakura was dwelling in this enforced seclusion means were found
of opening up communication between him and Saigo Takamori, Okubo, Kido,
Goto Shojiro, and others of the imperialist party, and so when the
change of government was brought about in 1868 he was at once released
from his retirement and appointed at first a Sanyo, then a Gijo, and
finally, when the new administration was completely arranged for, in the
autumn of that year, he became a Fuku-Sosai or Vice-Chancellor of the
Government, a title that subsequently was merged in that of U-dai-jin.
Long prior to his journey to Western lands he had come in contact with
Western people to no inconsiderable extent, as a brief allusion to the
part he took in the reception of the Duke of Edinburgh in 1869 will
suffice to show. But first it should be explained that as a Court noble
he had in the preceding year accompanied his present Majesty from Kioto
to Yedo, thenceforward to be known as Tokio. The youthful sovereign
travelled by the famous To-kai-do, or road of the Eastern Sea, and as
it was the first and last occasion on which the sovereign journeyed
under conditions that have long since ceased to exist, it may be worth
while to recall some of the features of the imperial procession and the
methods of travel which down to that date were adopted in Japan. Matters
have in this respect been completely changed, for the railways have
revolutionised everything. The _honjins_ at which the daimios stayed
for the night when journeying by easy stages from their provinces to
the Shogun’s capital at stated periods and back to their domains have
mostly disappeared,—the post stations, where their servitors hired
baggage ponies and their palanquin bearers were changed, every few miles,
still exist on most roads, but the palanquins have been replaced by the
“man-power-car” (jin-riki-sha), a vehicle then uninvented. The stately
manners and elaborate courtesy of the old regime have been replaced by
a certain brusqueness that sometimes offends. The journey from Kioto to
Yedo formerly occupied four weeks. The average rate of progress was thus
about twelve miles per day, but it was not uniform, and much depended
on the character of the road, and of the weather. The Emperor rode in a
specially constructed “norimono” (_lit._: thing for riding in) and was
hidden from the gaze of the vulgar by silk-gauze curtains. The bearers
of the imperial vehicle had been trained to perfection in the art of
carrying it steadily,—to the degree, indeed, that they could run fast
with it when a bowl brimful of water had been placed inside and not
spill a drop, if we may credit the assertions of those who formerly made
their journeys in this fashion,—and were carefully matched for height
to prevent any oscillation. In the month of November, when the Emperor
removed to his new capital, the days were warm and sunny, and the nights
cool, so that the time chosen was the pleasantest for travelling of all
the year, and as the _honjin_ keepers had been warned of his Majesty’s
approach by advance couriers all had been made ready for his fitting
reception. By his express command no levy of any sort was made but, down
to the smallest article needed for use on the road, everything was paid
for. As the procession neared Kanagawa some of the Yokohama residents
were present at the roadside to witness its passage through the little
town, and it is supposed that his Majesty, then not quite seventeen years
of age, obtained his first view of the strangers in his realms through
the gauze-curtained windows of his norimono. The advance was slow and
dignified. There were 1000 soldiers marching in scattered parties of
from forty to two hundred, with a few flags, and several bands of music
playing a weird air that no one recognised. Beyond this there was not
a sound. The people bowed profoundly, but in perfect silence, as the
ruler of Japan passed by. Following the Emperor came Prince Iwakura, in
a norimono, and some twenty other nobles of the Court, as also three or
four territorial lords, each with his own retinue. Slowly the procession
wended its way along the “Eastern Sea Road” at a foot pace, until the
castle of Yedo which had for two and a half centuries sheltered the
deputy ruler, but thenceforward to be the headquarters of the real
sovereign, came in sight, from the suburb of Shinagawa. Soon the imperial
norimono had been borne across the inner moat and the Emperor had reached
his palace, not again to appear in public for a long time, and then not
in a norimono but in a wheeled vehicle of European pattern drawn by
well-groomed horses.
Next year there came to Japan Prince Alfred of England, and with his
reception as the first foreign prince to visit Japan under the new order
of things created by the Restoration Prince Iwakura had all to do. At the
time he gracefully said that the Government had given to the reception
of the English prince the most anxious consideration, inasmuch as it was
of all things wished that the utmost friendship should be shown towards
Foreign Powers, and the Government was ready to promote the formation of
intimate relations even though in doing so they might have to sacrifice
to some degree the ancient usages and ideas, so much so that the Emperor
would be compelled to observe an altogether new etiquette in receiving
Prince Alfred in a way that would be acceptable to Great Britain, but
that it afforded intense gratification to reflect that this compliment
would in the first instance be paid to an English prince, and would
form some slight acknowledgment of the abundant proofs which Japan had
received of the thorough good will of England and of the Government of
Queen Victoria.
It is ancient history now, but the _Galatea_ dropped anchor at Yokohama
on Sunday, the 25th of August 1869. The royal standard, however, was not
hoisted by her until the 31st, and then all the warships in harbour and
the fort of Kanagawa broke into a tremendous salute, which later the
_Galatea_ returned with the flag of Japan at the main. On the 1st of
September the Duke took up his residence in the palace of Hama-go-ten,
in Tokio, which had been made ready for him, and on the 4th he went to
the palace within the castle to meet the Ten-shi, who welcomed his guest
in the Audience Chamber, and then invited him to a less formal meeting
in the adjoining garden of Fuki-age. Refreshments were served in the
maple pavilion, and the Emperor awaited the Duke’s coming in the tiny
pavilion by the waterfall. As Prince Alfred entered the Ten-shi rose and
bowed courteously, and begged his guest to be seated. The suites remained
standing, while the Emperor said “It affords me great pleasure to receive
a prince who has come so far, and I hope you will remain long enough
to repay you for the fatigues of the journey.” The best wishes were
expressed on both sides for cordial relations between England and Japan
and the memorable interview was brought to a conclusion.
Interest will always attach to this first meeting of the Japanese
Emperor with a member of another ruling house, for it signalised a vast
alteration in the views of the Japanese aristocracy as well as the
beginning of cordial relations between the two powers which have with the
lapse of time grown closer and closer, and promise to be eternal. It is
due to the memory of Prince Iwakura to show, as it has here been sought
to do, that he most clearly appreciated the benefits which were certain
to accrue from the maintenance of a mutual understanding between his
country and ours, and did all that it was feasible in that epoch to do to
cement the ties which were thus early growing up between nations destined
to be one day absolutely allied.
In 1870 Prince Iwakura was despatched on an important mission to the lord
of Satsuma province, being the bearer of a request from the Emperor that
the daimio Shimadzu Saburo, then dwelling at Kagoshima, should come to
Tokio and give his assistance in affairs of State, by taking his seat at
the Grand Council. The Emperor wrote a special letter to Shimadzu,—who
was virtually all powerful in Satsuma, though nominally the uncle and
truly the father of the daimio of the clan,—to the effect that the
Dainagon Tomiyoshi (Iwakura) was charged to convey the expression of his
Majesty’s esteem and calling upon him (Shimadzu) to join in the great
work of reforming the national institutions. To Iwakura the Imperial
Commission was given in these terms:—
TO IWAKURA DAINAGON:
His Majesty desires to present a sword to the shrine of
_Shokoku Daimojin_ at Kagoshima in Satsuma, and to take an oath
to the god to exalt the destinies of the State.
You will therefore proceed thither and worship in obedience to
this desire of his Majesty.
SANJO SANETOMI:
TOKUDAIJI SANENORI:
The Satsuma lord found an excuse for non-compliance at the time with the
sovereign’s command, though he ultimately went up to Tokio with a retinue
of armed samurai, at a date when the wearing of two swords in the girdle
had become an anachronism, and then made but a brief sojourn there.
The next mission undertaken by Prince Iwakura was that alluded to at the
outset,—the visit to America and Europe.
With him, as Vice-ambassadors, were four of the heads of departments of
State, and a number of Secretaries and clerks belonging to the several
departments represented. The dominant idea seems to have been that the
chiefs should form a council of five among themselves, and be able to
adequately represent the views of their sovereign. The prince had some
months prior to the leadership of this mission being conferred upon him
been made Minister for Foreign Affairs, and what was a most exceptional
thing at that time, indeed an altogether unprecedented honour, the
Emperor paid him a visit at his own residence in Tokio, and thus
addressed him: