or adviser to the So-sai, like his friends Kido and Komatsu, and in this
position was able to exert considerable influence, as the So-sai, to whom
the three ardent reformers acted in the capacity of private counsellors,
possessed the confidence of the sovereign, and procured or refused the
imperial assent to the proposals of the other heads of departments in the
Ministry as then constituted. Subsequently, when the administration was
remodelled on a foreign plan, and Prince Sanjo became Prime Minister,
Goto still occupied his position of responsibility, more especially
connected with the Foreign branch, and he was so engaged when, in March
1868, the various representatives of foreign powers went by appointment
to Kioto to pay their respects to the present Emperor, who had a few
weeks previously taken in hand the reins of government on the resignation
of the Shogun. The British and Dutch ministers left Kobé, then a newly
opened port for foreign trade, on the 18th March, accompanied by Ito
Shunsuke (now Marquis), who was the Governor of Kobé, and Sir Harry
Parkes was to have been received with the other envoys on the 23rd of
the month, but for a dastardly attack made upon him and his escort when
passing along the streets of the then Japanese capital. The British
Minister had been lodged during his short stay in Kioto at a temple in
a northern suburb, and he left it at the appointed hour to go to the
Dairi (palace) where the interview with the Emperor was to take place.
Sir Harry’s mounted escort was leading the way, the inspector riding in
front with Mr Nakai Kozo, likewise a Government official, and a Satsuma
samurai, when suddenly, at a street corner, a band of Japanese swordsmen
sprang out from their hiding-place and began slashing right and left. Sir
Harry was riding immediately in rear of his mounted guards, with Goto
Shojiro at his side. The attack was so sudden that the escort had no time
to use their lances, and the thoroughfare, moreover, was very narrow. The
present British Minister in China, Sir Ernest Satow, rode on Sir Harry
Parkes’ right, and behind marched a detachment of the Ninth Regiment from
the British camp at Yokohama. The desperate character of the attack will
be understood by the fact that the British representative was by no means
inadequately protected, to judge from previous experience, and though
murderous assaults on foreigners were unhappily not infrequent at this
period,—the result of political ferment rather than of personal animosity
to the strangers,—there was no particular reason to expect any attack on
this occasion.
Nakai Kozo at once leaped from his horse and engaged one of the
assailants, but having the bad luck to stumble when parrying a stroke of
his antagonist he received a severe cut on the head. After their first
onslaught some of the swordsmen took to their heels, but two of the
number remained cutting at the escort all down the line, and so quick had
been their movements that Sir Harry and Goto only heard the scuffle as
their horses turned the corner. Goto, instantly dismounting, rushed to
the front, and was able to rescue Nakai, but his assailant straightway
made for Sir Harry Parkes, whose Japanese groom received the blow, and
at the same time Mr Satow’s horse was badly cut. The would-be assassin
fell momentarily forward by the impetuosity of his own attack, and Goto
at that instant delivered a stroke which severed the ruffian’s head from
his shoulders before he could recover his equilibrium. The other man ran
off to a back yard where he was captured, after receiving many wounds.
The activity displayed by the assailants is best to be realised from the
mischief they wrought in a few minutes. Out of eleven men forming Sir
Harry’s own escort nine were severely wounded, as was also one man of the
Ninth Regiment, and a groom and four horses were more or less badly cut
with the terrible two-handed swords that the assailants wielded with such
deadly precision.
Goto afterwards said that the Japanese were proud of having had a man
like Sir Harry Parkes to defend, for he was quite calm throughout and
betrayed not the slightest fear despite the suddenness of the attack.
As soon as the affair was over, and it was of very brief duration, the
Minister gave the order to return to the temple which he was lodging
in, only a quarter of a mile away, and the visit to the Dairi was of
necessity postponed. By good fortune Dr Willis of the Legation and two
naval surgeons from the British fleet had followed on foot with the
intention of going as far as the palace gates, and they were able to
stanch the open wounds of the men of the escort.
The immediate result of this outrage by partisans of the _Jo-I_ or
“Expulsion of the Foreigners” faction was a proclamation by the Emperor
to the effect that attacks of the kind were infamous and detestable, and
that a samurai guilty of a like offence in future would be first degraded
and then decapitated as a malefactor by the common executioner, the head
of the criminal to be exposed to public gaze for a prescribed period.
And this proclamation had a wonderful effect, for it not only placed
upon record the plain fact that deeds of such a character were abhorrent
to the young ruler of the empire, but the punishment entailed by the
indulgence in a crime of this kind was to the samurai of so terrible a
nature, in respect of the degradation,—not the forfeiture of his own
life—that there were subsequent to the issue of the imperial edict hardly
any cases of assault on foreigners, and the antipathy to the _Kai-koku_
policy, which favoured the entry of the strangers, gradually diminished
with the lapse of time.
On the third day of the third moon,—at that time the old-fashioned mode
of reckoning derived from China centuries before was in vogue,—the
British minister again set out for the Dairi, and this time the journey
was accomplished without mishap, his reception by the Emperor being of
the most cordial kind. His Majesty expressed personally his horror of
the proceedings which had debarred him from previously receiving the
representative of Queen Victoria, and Sir Harry had every reason to
be gratified by the evident concern manifested by the sovereign. The
day was according to the old calendar a most auspicious one, being the
Girls’ Festival or Sekku and the 26th of April by Western reckoning. The
Gregorian calendar was adopted in Japan in 1872.
Queen Victoria sent richly mounted swords to Goto and Nakai, bearing the
inscription in each case—“From Victoria, Queen of England, in remembrance
of the 23rd of March 1868.” As no more appropriate gift to a samurai of
Japan than a fine sword could have been imagined, the recipients of these
tokens of their prowess were individually delighted, and Count Goto of
to-day, who is the son of Goto Shojiro, prizes the weapon in recollection
of the skilful swordsmanship which enabled his father to save the British
Minister’s life. That the combat was of the most determined character,
in which assailants and defenders put forth all their strength and skill
may be judged from the account given afterwards of the affair by Mr Nakai
Kozo, who was for many years on the staff of the Foreign Office and a
most witty and charming companion. “I was only able to see out of one
eye, owing to the blood flowing from my wound in the head, but I kept on
hacking away at the fellow in front of me, and at last saw that I had cut
his head off, which I showed to Sir Harry to let him know that at least
one of his assailants was duly accounted for.”
Like Kido, Inouye, and Itagaki, and other “Makers of Japan,” Count Goto
was active in the field during the war of the Restoration, which lasted
throughout 1868, with more or less intensity, and into the spring of
1869, and made his mark in numberless hotly-contested engagements. Saigo
Takamori, as Chief of General Staff to the Prince Arisugawa Taruhito,
reached the suburbs of Tokio in April of the year 1868, and the battle of
Uyeno was practically the last of the war, but fighting went on in the
north for many months after.
Count Goto Shojiro did vast service to the country in the Ministry headed
by Prince Sanjo, and it was in 1874, while occupying a high post in the
administration that he associated himself with Count Itagaki and Count
Soyeshima (who died last autumn) in memorialising the Government to
make arrangements at the earliest possible moment for the summoning of
a National Assembly, in order that the promise made by his Majesty at
the beginning of his reign to the effect that he would eventually rule
the empire in conformity with the popular wishes might be realised. But
the time was hardly ripe for experiments in Constitutional Government,
and the memorial was shelved. Goto and his fellow-memorialists resigned
office, but though they were less prominent than some of their
compatriots thenceforward in the actual occupation of seats in the
Cabinet they were by no means lost to sight in respect of contemporary
politics. Count Goto, moreover, was identified with industrial
undertakings to a noteworthy extent, and figured conspicuously in a large
number of philanthropical enterprises in connection with which he was
ever ready to lend a helping hand.
In the year 1882, in company with Count Itagaki, who had just recovered
from injuries received in an attempt on his life by a political partisan
of the reactionaries, Count Goto visited Europe and America, and they
were warmly welcomed both here and on the Continent. In part the object
that Count Goto had then before him was the acquisition of information
concerning social institutions, as established in the West, though he
took the opportunity to study at the same time matters of practical
politics with the intention of rendering aid to his fellow-provincial
Count Itagaki in support of the _Jiyuto_, or Liberal Party, with which
that prominent statesman was then closely identified.
He was entrusted with the portfolio of Minister of Communications in the
First Cabinet formed after the establishment of Constitutional Government
in 1890, with Marquis Yamagata as Minister-President. The appointment may
be said to have been a recognition of the part taken by him sixteen years
before when he joined in the memorial urging the speedy formation of a
National Diet. This was his last office, for two years later he died, at
the age of sixty, not “full of years,” but “full of honour” won in the
service of his country, and respected for his nobleness of character by
his fellow-countrymen and by those foreign residents, and they were many,
who had under most varied conditions experienced his unfailing courtesy
and genuine good will.
XII
MARSHAL SAIGO TAKAMORI
In the sense that Japanese history begins with the landing of Jimmu Tenno
in Kiushiu, and that many of the greatest events narrated in the annals
of the Empire took place in that island of, as its name implies, nine
provinces, there should be much to interest the student in connection
with this portion of the Ten-shi’s dominions. The nine baronies of the
feudal regime were ranged around the coast, their rearmost boundaries
meeting on mountain ridges in the interior. The passes in these ridges
were in many cases the scenes of desperate battles during the Satsuma
War of 1877, as will presently be shown, there having originally been
one long dividing line extending almost north and south from Shimonoseki
straits to Kagoshima bay, with branch lines like the veins of a leaf
splitting one half of the island into five and the other into four
portions. Satsuma and Osumi were the two most southerly provinces,
with Hiuga adjoining Osumi, and it is in connection with this region
in particular that some of the more stirring passages of ancient and
modern Japanese history have to be recorded. Marshal Saigo Takamori,
who had perhaps more than anyone else to do with the formation of the
nucleus of Japan’s great army, was born and died in Satsuma, and he
spent most of his life in the immediate neighbourhood of the castle town
of Kagoshima. From the extremity of Kiushiu the isles of Loo-Choo (now
termed Riu-kiu-to or Okinawa prefecture), stretch in a south-westward
direction, linking up Formosa, and to the north-west the islands of
Iki and Tsushima form stepping-stones, as it were, to Korea. Excepting
in Miyasaki prefecture, where the coast is less broken, facing the
Pacific, the shores of Kiushiu are deeply indented with inlets and bays,
lofty mountains forming the background, and there is an abundance
of good harbours, rendering its populous towns and numerous villages
comparatively easy of access. The chain of islets to the south sheltered
vessels and aided migration from Malaysia, while Tsushima and Iki,—places
made famous by the decisive battle of the Sea of Japan in 1905 which was
fought in their vicinity,—doubtless prompted the exploration of the Hizen
and Chikuzen coasts by adventurous voyagers from the mainland of Asia.
The Nine Provinces are rich in traditions of the imperial ancestors, the
reputed landing-place of Jimmu Tenno being Shibushi bay, a few miles
south-east of Kagoshima. There is a very ancient Shinto shrine in a cave
close by, and on Takachiho-miné, otherwise Higashi Kiri-shima-yama, the
easternmost of twin peaks in the ridge which forms the boundary line of
Osumi and Hiuga provinces, thirteen miles from the Satsuma stronghold,
stood the palace which the founder of the imperial dynasty is believed to
have inhabited prior to setting out for the Inland Sea.
[Illustration: MARSHAL SAIGO TAKAMORI]
Rein tells us that in 1875 he saw on a blunt cone of piled-up stones
on the summit of the volcanic peak of Kiri-shima-yama, 5500 feet above
sea-level, the famous sword which tradition says Ninigi-no-mikoto,
grandson of the Sun-goddess, used. It is clumsy, and obviously of great
antiquity. The material is bronze containing a large proportion of
copper, the blade is not quite flat, the shaft cylindrical, with several
blunt projections, and it originally was sharpened on one side towards
the top. The length of this remarkable weapon was fifty inches over
all, the blade measuring forty inches from point to hilt. The width of
the blade was nearly three inches, and the handle extremely thick. It
is evident that the weight of such a sword must have been considerable,
and without entering into the question of its origin it may at least be
said that the fact of its being preserved so carefully at that spot from
what can hardly have been other than a very remote period of Japanese
history alone would suffice to account for the store set upon this truly
extraordinary relic. Jimmu Tenno is supposed to have spent some years in
subjugating the tribes which he found in possession of Southern Japan,
but he eventually reached Naniwa (Osaka) and established his capital in
Yamato. Naniwa and Takachiho are names which have for the Japanese people
historical significance sufficient to have induced the naval authorities
to bestow them on two warships built for Japan on the Tyne.
Saigo Kichinosuke, as he was named until he was of full age, was born
in Satsuma province in the year 1822. His father was a Samurai, of
foot-soldier rank. It is clear, however, that the father possessed an
accurate idea of the value of education and training, if only from the
prominence which both his sons achieved in the service of their country.
Kichinosuke was the elder of the two, his younger brother achieving the
rank of Marquis, and figuring in the national annals with a lustre but
little inferior to that of the popular hero himself. While yet young
Kichinosuke was given the post of gardener to the prince of Satsuma.
In days of old this was often a position of trust, for the individual
occupying it necessarily came into close contact with his lord when it
happened, as it did in nine cases out of ten, that the chieftain of a
clan had a taste for horticulture. Trustworthy Samurai of rank were
sometimes given the office of gardener for the sake of the opportunities
thus afforded for direct communication, between the baron and his
faithful retainers, free from the risk of surveillance by emissaries
of the Shogun’s Government who under the old regime were to be found
in every mansion. That Saigo held this post is a proof of his lord’s
confidence in him. When twenty years old Kichinosuke went to Mito and
there became a pupil of Fujita Toko—whose history is elsewhere in this
volume briefly recorded—and under that profound scholar’s guidance
studied Chinese literature so assiduously that Fujita always spoke of
Saigo with pride as one of his best pupils. It was from Fujita that
Saigo imbibed his rooted hostility to the Shogunate, Fujita being the
confidential friend of the old prince of Mito, whose opposition to the
Bakufu is always believed to have culminated in the assassination by
his followers of the Regent, Ii Kamon-no-kami, at the Sakurada Gate of
Yedo Castle, in March 1860. On separating after the lapse of some years
from Fujita Toko, Saigo went to Kioto and there became the intimate
friend of Gessho, the high priest of the famous Buddhist temple of
Kiyomidzu, and during the eventful five years from 1854 to 1859 Saigo was
resident either in Kioto or Osaka. It was when the Regent or “Gotairo”
Ii-kamon-no-kami came into power in 1859 at Yedo, during the minority
of the Shogun Iyemochi, that Saigo, dissatisfied with the course things
were taking, and possessing definite views of his own, formed a party
opposed to the Bakufu. In the same year, 1859, when he was about to
return to Satsuma, his friend Gessho was selected by the Imperial Court
to be the bearer of a despatch to the prince of Mito. Gessho, however,
pleaded that the honour of being the imperial messenger should be
bestowed on Saigo, as being far better qualified for the office, and
his prayer was granted. Saigo could not succeed, however, in delivering
the secret despatch, owing to the rigorous watch kept by the Mito
prince’s retainers over his person,—it is easy to picture the position,
knowing as we now do, how exceedingly strict was it needful to be in
those stormy days of frequent assassination and widespread feuds,—and
in the end the imperial courier had to return to Kioto with his task
unfulfilled. Saigo and others opposed to the Bakufu became marked men,
but the dread of Satsuma’s vengeance protected them from actual arrest.
Gessho also was suspected, and for his safety Saigo resolved to take
the priest with him to the south. The priest rode in a palanquin, and
Saigo, assisted by a fellow-clansman named Umeda, acted as escort. They
were not attacked, though they fully apprehended that they would be, and
reached Kagoshima in safety. Saigo acquainted his clansmen with what
he had done, but the explanation was coldly received. At this time his
opposition to the Bakufu was not shared by the officers of the Satsuma
province. Gessho’s hiding-place was soon discovered, and he was in
danger, and Saigo went at midnight to the place where he had secreted
his friend to warn him. Together they resolved to drown themselves in
the bay of Kagoshima, for Saigo, perceiving that the priest’s death was
inevitable, deemed it a point of honour to die with him, in despair at
the absence of a true chivalric spirit in the clan. They actually threw
themselves into the sea, but the act had been observed, and some boatmen
recovered the bodies from the waves in time to resuscitate Saigo, though
Gessho had expired. The provincial officers were wrathful at the stigma
cast on the clan’s hospitality by Gessho’s death, and also at Saigo’s
uncompromising hostility to the Shogunate, and they banished him to the
island of Oshima, some distance from the Satsuma coast. Here he changed
his name to Oshima Sanyemon, the reference in the second word being to
the circumstance that this was his third visit to the islet, his previous
banishments having been the fruits of similar opposition to the Bakufu,
and the result moreover of his being appreciably in advance of the times.
It was not long before the entire clan was united with Saigo in his
unswerving hostility to the Yedo Government, but meanwhile he suffered
for his temerity. On Oshima he studied incessantly, when one not of his
indomitable spirit might have broken down under a sense of disappointment
and the conviction of wrongs sustained without hope of remedy. His
feudal chieftain pardoned him after the expiration of four years, and
Saigo returned to Satsuma and became one of the clan officials. When the
Shogunate entered into the treaties with foreign powers Saigo opposed
it with all the resolution of his unbending character, and during the
conflicts which ensued at Kioto he sheltered many who were pursued by
the Yedo Government’s officers and helped them to escape. He it was who
strongly favoured a reconciliation between his clan and Choshiu and
advocated their coalition in opposition to the Bakufu.
Owing to his banishment Saigo was not present in Satsuma during the
earlier part of the period of intense military activity which was
noticeable in his native province, but he may be said to have been with
his fellow-clansmen in spirit, and he was, in all probability, in close
touch with them by the agency of mutual friends, despite his enforced
absence. There were ways and means even in those days of maintaining
communication when necessary.
At this period the policy of the Satsuma clan as a whole was distinctly
reactionary, and ample indication of the bent of its chieftain’s
inclinations is to be traced in a memorial which he about this time
addressed to the Emperor, setting forth his reasons for believing that
the administration at the capital was conducting the national affairs
without due respect for the traditions of the Empire.
Shimadzu Saburo, author of this uncompromisingly anti-foreign proposal,
subsequently held office in the Government which was formed immediately
on the restoration of imperial rule in 1868. He had been a great student
in early life, and was the father of the real daimio of the Satsuma
province. He was also, by the system of adoption which prevailed, uncle
to the same person, who had been adopted by the previous daimio, Shimadzu
Saburo’s brother. Virtually, though not nominally head of the clan, the
uncle wielded immense influence in Kagoshima, and vehemently opposed the
Yedo Government, though he was not antagonistic to foreigners or their
inventions in the abstract, and had purchased steamers from them and set
up a cotton mill in Satsuma itself. His province had indeed benefited
hugely by its proximity to Nagasaki, which had for centuries been the
only port open to trade of any kind with the Occident, and he had
expressed his willingness to throw open the whole of the Satsuma province
to Western trade, but the Yedo government had set its face against the
proposal, some years before the Restoration of the Imperial power.