my service. Ever since the Reform you have exerted yourself
day and night to secure the happiness and tranquillity of the
empire, and the present state of prosperity has principally
depended on you.”
When Prince Iwakura was chosen to lead a mission to the Western Powers it
is to be inferred from this commendatory utterance of the sovereign how
great was the importance that was attached to its successful fulfilment,
and there can be no doubt that much was anticipated from it in the shape
of compliance by the Governments to which it was accredited with a desire
that the Japanese Government had very much at heart, and that was the
revision of the treaties entered into twelve to fifteen years before with
foreign powers,—a revision which it took many years to bring about but
was at last amicably effected in 1894.
The Embassy left Yokohama by a Pacific Mail Company’s steamer in December
1871, and it was absent altogether a year and nine months. Everywhere it
was well received, but the results were not quite satisfactory, for when
it returned the vexed question of extra territoriality was no nearer a
settlement in accordance with Japan’s views than when it set out.
On his return Iwakura found a strong party in the Government in favour
of inflicting punishment on Korea for wrongs and insults that it was
declared the nation had sustained at the hands of the people of the
neighbouring peninsula. As Korea was tributary to China, this meant
going to war with the Chinese, and Iwakura was profoundly opposed to an
adventure of this character in the then state of the Empire’s naval and
military forces. A split in the Government followed, and the members
of the war party, which included Goto Shojiro, Itagaki Taisuke, Saigo
Takamori, Soyeshima, and Yeto Shimpei, all resigned, their places in the
administration being taken by Ito Hirobumi, Katsu Awa-no-kami, Okubo, and
Terashima.
The ill feeling in the country engendered by this conflict of opinion
led to a determined attempt on Prince Iwakura’s life by men belonging to
the Tosa clan, who were caught and executed for their abominable crime.
The prince was returning from the imperial palace at eight o’clock in
the evening of the 15th of January 1874, in a small open carriage, the
hood of which, fortunately, as the night was cold, had been drawn up.
Nevertheless, though the hood was a partial protection, he received
several wounds from the swords and spears with which the intending
assassins had armed themselves. The attack took place on the causeway at
Ku-ichi-gai, close to the castle moat, and the driver of the carriage and
the _betto_ or groom, were likewise both badly wounded. In endeavouring
to escape from his assailants the prince fell headlong into the moat,
which happily was not deep at that point, and the assassins, as they
deemed themselves to be, took to flight, on the guard at the palace gate
approaching with a lantern. Their victim had strength left to shout, and
was hauled out of the moat, more dead than alive from his injuries and
immersion in the ice-cold water on that winter night. He was a long time
confined to his bed, but he eventually recovered to be able to resume his
part in the official life of the capital.
He died in 1881 deeply mourned by the whole of the Japanese people,
who recognised in him perhaps more than in any other statesman of his
generation the guide and counsellor of the monarch at critical periods of
the nation’s history, and he undoubtedly was honoured by his sovereign
with a close personal friendship such as rarely falls to the lot of a
subject under any conditions, in Japan or elsewhere.
VIII
PRINCE SANJO SANETOMI
On the 6th of November 1868, when the British Minister, the late Sir
Harry Parkes, was reviewing the British garrison at Yokohama, a Japanese
equestrian, wearing the native robes of white silk which befitted
his rank as a _kuge_ or Court noble,—his horse led by two grooms or
“bettos,” and attended by forty soldiers in blue serge uniforms, with
black cloth caps,—a man of slight physique, and particularly juvenile
in appearance,—sat placidly in his saddle watching with an interested
air the movements of the foreign troops as they executed a series of
evolutions and marched past the representative of Queen Victoria. The
visitor, who had come from Tokio to attend the review, was Prince Sanjo,
the first Prime Minister of Japan, and leader of the newly formed
Government of the Restored Imperial Rule. A few minutes later Sir Harry,
with a well-turned compliment on the skill of Japanese swordsmen, and
a graceful acknowledgment of his indebtedness personally to the valour
of one of their number, handed to the Japanese statesman the sword sent
by the British Queen for presentation to Mr Nakai Kozo, in memory of
the day when Nakai and Goto Shojiro, as is elsewhere related at length,
saved the life of the British Minister when he was attacked by outlaws
in the streets of Kioto in March of the same year. Prince Sanjo passed
on the gift to Mr Nakai with his own congratulations to the recipient on
the performance of a brilliant feat of arms, and thus closed an incident
that served to remind those present of an exceptionally stormy period
in the history of the nation, and which happily was then giving place
to comparatively settled conditions. Prince Sanjo had come from Kioto
to Yedo, thenceforward to be the capital of the Empire under the title
of Tokio, in the month of June, in attendance on the Emperor, who then
removed to the former headquarters of the Shogunate and gave to the place
its new name. Sanjo was at that time _Fuku-Sosai_, ranking next to the
Emperor’s uncle, Prince Arisugawa Taruhito, who occupied in the first
administration formed under the Restored Imperial regime the position of
_Sosai_—_i.e._ Supreme Director of the Government. The decisions of the
So-sai were unchallengeable, and it was an office which only a prince of
the blood might hold. Sanjo had always, even during the lifetime of the
present Emperor’s father, sided with those who recognised the need of
reforms, and when, in the autumn of 1868, the Department of the So-sai
was abolished and the Dai-jo-kwan, or Supreme Governing Council, was
constituted, thus resuscitating an ancient advisory body that had had
a prior existence in the eighth century, he succeeded to the post of
president, or _Dai-Jo-Dai-Jin_, thereof, and occupied it from that time
forth until the dissolution of the Council on the reconstitution of the
Government in the year 1886.
[Illustration: PRINCE SANJO SANETOMI]
The Ministry of the Restored Rule was soon after its institution
reorganised so as to give equal representation to the four leading clans
that had been directly concerned in the revival of direct imperial
control—viz. Satsuma, Choshiu, Tosa, and Hizen. Up to the year 1886
the Dai-jo-kwan was a separate body, distinct from the Council of
Ministers or heads of departments. But in that year the two Councils
were fused into one, and became the Cabinet as it exists at the present
day. In Japan, it will be remembered, the Cabinet is appointed directly
by the sovereign, and is entirely independent of any political party
that may be predominant in the Diet. The Ministry at the outset of the
Meiji era included those energetic reformers, Ito Shunsuke (afterwards
Hirobumi) and Inouye Bunda (afterwards Kaoru) both Choshiu Samurai,
and in Prince Sanjo they found an able and ardent supporter of their
views. His influence was apparent in the tolerant attitude of the Court
party towards the policy of the new government, and as the motto of the
administration was then, and still is, “a strong Japan, for defence,
and if need be, for aggression,” it is not easy to see in what respect
the Imperialistic conservatism of the Kioto nobles was stultified by the
doctrine enunciated in the Council Chamber at the capital. The retention
of Japan for the Japanese was the object sought by both sides, but while
one would have attempted to realise it by the expulsion of the subjects
of the Occidental Powers, the other party in the State was willing to
believe that Japan’s safety and territorial integrity were best to
be preserved by the assimilation of those arts and sciences that had
given to the Western peoples their capabilities of waging successful
warfare, and of thereby imposing their will upon others. The policy which
commended itself to Japan at that epoch was certainly not inspired by a
mere love of change, nor by any pronounced preference for foreign ways,
nor was it ascribable to a passion for learning, in the abstract, but it
was directly prompted by a well-grounded political incentive to action
that has never lost its hold on the minds of Government or people, and is
indubitably as strong to-day as when its principles were first assented
to by the nation at large, close upon forty years ago.
Prince Sanjo belonged to the eighth _Kuge_ family, and was therefore
a descendant of the Fujiwara house which has from very early days
provided consorts for the Emperors. The mothers and wives of the
sovereigns of Japan have all been Fujiwaras by descent, and the rule
still holds good that the princesses of the blood shall marry into
Fujiwara houses. The retention of Prince Sanjo in the office of Prime
Minister on the establishment of the Dai-jo-kwan was a wise step of
which the good effects were incalculable, inasmuch as it tended towards
the reconcilement of those antagonistic sections of the community which
were to be classed respectively as adherents of the old and of the new
systems. At the beginning he was himself an opponent of the _kai-koku_
policy which favoured the opening of the country to foreign trade and
intercourse, but in the end he vastly aided the accomplishment of those
plans to which he had finally accorded his unqualified approbation. As a
Fujiwara he could not be other than a devoted servant of the throne,—as
a convert to the doctrine of reform he was a pillar of strength to the
Government of the Restored Imperial Rule, and a strenuous advocate of
the adoption of methods calculated to place his country in the van of
Asiatic powers. The Fujiwaras in the ninth century assumed regal control,
in their tenure of the office of Kwambaku,—an ancient title borne by the
Prime Minister of the State,—and the holder of it in A.D. 888 had wielded
absolute sway, arranging all affairs with and on behalf of the then
reigning Mikado, who seems to have been content to efface himself and to
permit the Minister to exercise sovereign powers. Thus the prestige of
the Fujiwara house was a valuable prop to the edifice of State and the
influence exerted by the prince as Premier throughout his long occupancy
of the exalted office was ever thrown into the scale of solid advancement.
When the Shogun Tokugawa Keiki tendered his resignation in the spring of
1868, he made a strong appeal for the assembling at an early date of the
provincial lords in Kioto, in order that they might express individually
and collectively their views to the young monarch on the great questions
which were then agitating the land. This Council of Dai-Mios met while
the war of the Restoration was yet in progress, and the outcome of their
deliberations was the revival of the historical Dai-jo-kwan, with a
_Dai-jo-dai-jin_, or Chancellor,—to use the term then commonly employed
in translation,—a Sa-dai-jin, or Vice-chancellor of the Left, which ranks
highest in Japan,—and a Vice-chancellor of the Right, the U-dai-jin.
The holders of the Vice-chancellorships under Prince Sanjo were Prince
Iwakura and the feudal chief of Satsuma. The administrative departments
created—viz. Foreign Affairs, Finance, War, Education, Home Affairs,
Justice, Religion, and the Imperial Household—were each presided over by
a Minister, and among those who accepted portfolios at that time were
many whose names will remain conspicuous for all time in the chronicles
of the Empire. Few of them are now alive, but it may with strict justice
be said that their labours in laying the foundations of good government
for their country were not in vain.
Prince Sanjo was at the head of the government throughout the troublous
period when it became necessary, in order to vindicate Japan’s rights, to
send an expedition to Formosa, led by Marquis Saigo, and at the far more
anxious stage when rebellion arose in Satsuma and it was imperative to
prosecute the war against Saigo Takamori and his followers with vigour,
lest the spread of principles opposed to the Government policy should
ultimately render its position insecure. Throughout it was Prince Sanjo
who presided over the deliberations of the Cabinet, and who enjoyed the
complete confidence of his imperial master. A great demand arose for
the revision of the treaties into which Japan had entered with foreign
nations, at a time when she practically had no choice but to throw open
her ports to over-sea trade. Year after year this momentous problem, how
to procure for the country adequate recognition of its paramount rights,
while it chafed under the claims of foreigners to enjoy the immunities
afforded by extra-territorial jurisdiction, obtruded itself, but it was
not until the Dai-jo-kwan had given place to a Cabinet in 1886 that a
satisfactory stage leading to revision was entered upon, and then Prince
Sanjo had ceased to be Premier.
Five years previously the nation had passed through a crisis in its
financial affairs due to the difficulties arising from a superabundant
issue of paper currency, and trade had been temporarily affected in
a way to give the maximum of concern to the Ministry. Brave efforts
were made, and with an appreciable measure of success, to economise in
every department of State. With the revival of commercial prosperity
to some extent in the autumn there was promulgated the imperial decree
granting a Constitution, to take effect in 1889, and for the assembly
of a Parliament in 1890. These gracious fulfilments of the promise
vouchsafed to his people by the sovereign at his accession filled the
nation with joy, and it was resolved that steps should be taken to frame
a Constitution which should be acceptable to the monarch and at the
same time satisfy all the legitimate aspirations of his loyal subjects.
To this end it was agreed that Marquis Ito should visit Europe, there to
complete his studies of Constitutional law and history, in order that he
should be in a position to offer the Emperor advice on every point in
connection with which information might be desired. By 1884 the internal
progress of the Empire was such as to give the utmost confidence to the
administration of which Prince Sanjo remained the head, and it had become
practicable to regard the unrestricted opening of the country to foreign
commerce and residence as being within the domain of practical politics,
and indeed within measurable distance.
By the time that it had become desirable, in 1886, to reconstitute
the Government on a model more suited to the requirements of a regime
based upon parliamentary procedure, the new army of Japan had attained
dimensions which warranted the Ministry in entertaining high hopes of its
future serviceability as the safeguard of the national interests, and
simultaneously the navy had risen to the condition of being a formidable
force. The army mustered at this stage over 100,000 of all ranks, and in
the fleet there were twenty-six vessels, five of them ironclads, in all
mounting some 225 guns. The railway system had grown to a total of nearly
300 miles, and there were 5000 miles of telegraph. In one way and another
the outgoing governing council was able to give a thoroughly satisfactory
account of its stewardship, for while in Korea there had been rioting
resulting in the deaths of a number of Japanese, and the War party at
Tokio had clamoured for retaliatory measures at Seoul, a treaty had been
negotiated on acceptable terms with the Peking Government and Japan had,
by the moderation of her demands for redress, averted the danger which
threatened of an open rupture with consequences for which Japan was
herself at that period but ill prepared.
On being relieved of his office of Dai-jo-dai-jin Prince Sanjo went
nominally into retirement, but his services as an adviser to the Crown
were not infrequently called for, until his health failed him in 1889.
His decease took place in February 1891, of influenza, and just before
his death the Emperor visited him and conferred on him, as an old and
faithful servant, the highest rank that it is possible for a Japanese
subject to attain, and which had not been bestowed by an Emperor of Japan
on anyone since the Eleventh Century.
IX
COUNT INOUYE KAORU
Like others who have been prominent in the making of modern Japan, Count
Inouye was a soldier before he became a statesman. To most of the foreign
residents in Japan at the period immediately following the Restoration of
Imperial rule he was best known as the Finance Minister, Inouye Bunda. To
his countrymen he was the dashing Choshiu leader who had commanded the
samurai troops of the southern clan in the fierce and prolonged strife
of pre-Restoration days between his lord and the Bakufu, or Government
of the Shogun. He and many of his colleagues in the first Imperial
Government had made names for themselves as deft wielders of the long
keen swords that they wore in their belts rather than for sage advice in
the council chamber, but they speedily gave proof of exceptional ability
in directions far removed from the ordinary path of the _bushi_, whose
province it was of old “to follow his chief to the field.” But prior
to his defeat of the Tokugawa forces the future financier had spent
more than a year in England and the capitals of the Continent, having
contrived to make his escape from his own land when foreign travel was
still interdicted. A batch of students left Japan in 1863 intending to
remain abroad for a five years’ course of study, but Inouye heard of
the troubles that were thickening in connection with his own province
consequent upon the attitude of its lord towards foreign intercourse,
and having had opportunities of judging of the military strength of the
Occidental nations in the course of his journey through Europe resolved
in company with his friend Ito Shunsuke to return forthwith and warn
the Choshiu baron of the risks that were being incurred by the clan.
They left their fellow-students behind them in Europe and hastened
to Yokohama, where they found the combined squadron on the point of
sailing for Shimonoseki, to punish the daimio of Choshiu for firing on
passing ships. Armed with letters from the Foreign Ministers to the baron
Mori, their lord, Ito and Inouye took passage in one of the warships,
and were at their own desire landed at a point on the coast, in the
Suwo Nada, as that part of the Inland Sea is termed, and made their
way by road to Hagi, where the daimio was then in residence. Hagi is
some forty miles across country from the Suwo Nada, and Inouye and his
companion ran considerable risk of being discovered and brought to book
for having quitted the province without leave. They assumed the disguise
of medical men, who were permitted in those days to wear one sword, and
were thus not wholly without means of defence had they been attacked in
the mountains, and they succeeded in reaching the castle town to which
they were bound without being delayed on the road. But they found the
baron Mori entirely averse to the proposition that he should withdraw
his standing order to the forts to fire on strangers, and on the other
hand, though their reception had not been unkindly, they were ordered to
return with a message of defiance to the squadron they had left in the
Inland Sea. Three days in all had elapsed when they rejoined the British
man-of-war _Barrosa_ and communicated the purport of their lord’s reply.
One course only remained open to the British and other commanders, and
the vessels steamed to a selected position in the straits, just out of
the strong current, and early the next morning prepared for the assault.
Not without warning, however, for due notice was given of the intention,
failing surrender. The Choshiu batteries were eight in number, beginning
at Chofu, three miles east of the town of Shimonoseki,—and now the first
railway station on the Sanyo line towards Kobé,—and extending thence to
the hill, opposite Moji Point, where the main street of Bakan—another
name for Shimonoseki, and in general use—begins. Seventy-four guns were
mounted in the eight batteries, and the instant that the guns of the
squadron opened fire, on the expiration of the allotted time, the most
vigorous response was made by the Japanese gunners. The most powerful of
Choshiu’s ordnance was mounted at Maita-mura, a village midway between
Bakan and Chofu. After some severe fighting, in the course of which the
town of Bakan took fire and burned fiercely, the batteries were silenced,
and the British ship _Barrosa_ landed a party of bluejackets and marines
to aid in extinguishing the conflagration. During the engagement one man
on board a foreign ship was killed by an arrow, the Choshiu men having
fallen back on archery to help them in the defence of their positions.
On the surrender of the forts a document was drawn up for the baron’s
signature, agreeing to certain conditions for the withdrawal of the
attacking squadron, and Ito and Inouye were once more despatched at the
request of the local government to represent the utter impossibility of
holding out against superior force. The envoys returned two days later
with the agreement sealed, and seventy-two guns, then supposed to be
the total number in use, were taken on board the allied vessels. Two
guns were unwittingly left in position on the hillside, commanding the
straits, for the writer found them there when surveying the locality ten
years afterwards, all but hidden in the dense undergrowth. The Choshiu
samurai were not a little proud of the resistance which they had been
able to offer to the foreign ships’ attack, and the townspeople never
forgot the magnanimous behaviour of the victors in going ashore to quench
the flames that the battle had originated.
[Illustration: COUNT INOUYE KAORU]
The men of Choshiu, some fifty or more in all, who fell in the memorable
fight were interred in a special cemetery situated on rising ground
in the rear of the town, and the graves are still tended with that
loving care which is invariably bestowed everywhere in Japan on the
burial-places of relatives and friends. The Frenchmen,—it is said there
were three,—who were killed aboard the French warships, were taken ashore
on the Moji side for interment, and at a later date the French admiral
visited the spot, and, according to report, discovered that the graves
had been wilfully desecrated, indeed,—as it was said,—wholly destroyed.
That some misapprehension must have existed on this point is certain,
since the writer was conducted by a farmer, who dwelt near Moji point, to
the spot where the three sailors had been buried, and to all appearances
the graves, though surrounded by dense vegetation, were intact. This
was in the year 1873, when a submarine cable was being laid across the
Straits to form part of the Japanese telegraph system. The farmer knew
that those who fell on the side of the allies lay in that secluded spot,
and expressed his regret that being a poor man he could do nothing to
show his respect for those who had perished at the post of duty. The
undergrowth was cleared away, and the soil had been purposely left
untouched by rake or hoe. This was more than thirty years ago, and it is
impossible for the writer to say whether or not some suitable memorial
to the French victims of the battle has since been set up at the place
indicated, but in any case there must still be people dwelling near it
who know where the interments took place, as the story of the combined
attack on the forts and the incidents of the struggle is told with zest
by father to son, and on the Shimonoseki side the festival of the dead is
regularly held at the tiny graveyard at the back of the main street.