The outrages which now succeeded each other with terrible frequency were
not confined to the native members of the opposing parties. Foreigners,
who were so essentially the cause of the political disturbances in Japan,
were particularly exposed to attacks. On the 14th of January, 1861, Mr.
Heusken, the secretary and interpreter of the American legation, when
riding home at night from the Prussian legation in Yedo, was attacked by
armed assassins and mortally wounded. The object of this murder is
supposed to have been the desire of one of the ministers of foreign
affairs to take revenge on Mr. Heusken,(281) for his activity in promoting
foreign intercourse.
The weakness and the fears of the government were shown by the warning,
which they sent to the foreign ministers to avoid attending the funeral of
Mr. Heusken, lest further outrages might be committed. They did attend,
however, and no disturbances occurred. It only remains to mention that Mr.
Harris subsequently made an arrangement with the government for the
payment of an indemnity(282) of $10,000 to the mother of Mr. Heusken, who
was then living at Amsterdam in Holland.
The next circumstance which awakened universal attention was an attack
made on the British legation, on the night of the 5th of July, 1861. At
this time the British minister occupied as a legation the buildings of the
temple Tozenji, situated at Takanawa in the city of Yedo. It was guarded
by a company of Japanese troops, to whom the government had entrusted its
protection. Mr. Alcock had just returned by an overland journey from
Nagasaki, and with a number of other Englishmen was domiciled in the
legation. The attacking party consisted of fourteen _ronins_ belonging to
the Mito clan, who had banded themselves together to take vengeance on the
“accursed foreigners.” Several of the guards were killed, and Mr.
Oliphant,(283) the secretary of legation, and Mr. Morrison, H. B. M’s
consul at Nagasaki, were severely wounded. On one of the party who was
captured was found a paper,(284) which set forth the object of the attack
and the names of the fourteen _ronins_ who had conspired for its
accomplishment.
That the government regarded such outrages with alarm is certain. They
took the earliest opportunity to express their distress that the legation
under their protection had thus been invaded. They assured Mr. Alcock with
the most pitiable sincerity that “they had no power of preventing such
attacks upon the legation, nor of providing against a renewal of the same
with a greater certainty of success.” “They could not,” they said,
“guarantee any of the representatives against these attempts at
assassination, to which all foreigners in Japan were liable, whether in
their houses or in the public thoroughfares.”(285) They pretended to
punish, and yet were afraid openly to punish the persons engaged in this
attack.(286) They promised to do what they could for the protection of the
foreign representatives; but their measures necessarily consisted in
making the legations a kind of prison where the occupants were confined
and protected.
And yet, with all these assurances of danger, the foreign representatives
seem to have been singularly ignorant of the real difficulties with which
the government had to deal. This was due, no doubt, to the want of candor
on the part of the Japanese officials in not explaining frankly and fully
to them the political complications which existed between the governments
of Yedo and Kyōto. They represented a widespread discontent to have grown
up since the negotiation of the treaties, owing to the increased price of
provisions, the derangement of the currency, and the danger of famine. In
view of these pressing difficulties they asked for the postponement of the
time fixed by the treaties for opening a port on the western coast and
Hyōgo on the Inland sea, and for the establishment of definite concessions
in the cities of Yedo and Ōsaka. These modifications of the treaties were
finally accepted, and it was arranged that the opening of the ports named
above should be postponed for a period of five years from the first of
January, 1863.
This postponement of the opening of the ports was the chief reason for
sending to foreign countries their first embassy. This set out from
Yokohama in January, 1862, and visited the United States, then England,
and the other treaty powers. They were everywhere received with the utmost
kindness and distinction. The immediate object of their mission was, as we
have seen, accomplished. The opening of additional ports was deferred on
condition that in those already opened the obstacles which had been put in
the way of trade should be removed.
But, besides the attainment of this end, the visit of the embassy to
foreign capitals and countries produced a salutary influence both on the
foreigners whom they met and on the influential personages of which it
consisted. The former learned to their surprise that they had a
cultivated, intelligent, and clever race to deal with, whose
diplomatists,(287) although inexperienced in European politics, were not
unqualified to enter the courts of western capitals. But the revelation to
the Japanese envoys was still greater and more surprising. For the first
time they saw the terrible armaments of western powers, and realized the
futility of attempting to make armed resistance to their measures. But
they encountered on every hand not hatred and aversion, but the warmest
interest and kindness,(288) and a desire to render them every courtesy.
Instead of barbarians, as they had been taught to regard all foreigners,
they found everywhere warm-hearted and intelligent friends who were
anxious to see their country treated with justice and consideration.
On the 26th of June, 1862, a year after the first, a second attack was
made upon the British legation. Lieutenant-Colonel Neale was at this time
_chargé d’affaires_, and had just removed from Yokohama and resumed the
occupancy of the temple of Tozenji. The government took the precaution to
establish guards, who daily and nightly made their rounds to protect the
buildings. Besides this there was a guard detailed from the British fleet
to render the legation more secure. The officials persisted in claiming
that only one person, Itō Gumpei, was engaged in the attack, and that it
was a matter of private revenge for an insult which one of the English
guards had put upon him. Two of these guards were killed in the attack,
and Itō Gumpei the assassin escaped to his own house, where he was
permitted to commit _hara-kiri_. There was probably no plot on the part of
those whose duty it was to protect the legation. But the uncertainty which
hung over the affair, and the repetition of the violence of the preceding
year led Colonel Neale to abandon his residence at Yedo and return to
Yokohama. An indemnity of £10,000 was demanded and finally paid for the
families of the two members of the guard who had been murdered.
In the meantime the relations between the courts at Kyōto and Yedo had
become more and more strained. The efforts at reconciliation, such as the
marriage between the young shōgun and the sister of the emperor in 1861,
produced no permanent effect. The disease was too deep-seated and serious
to be affected by such palliations. Shimazu Saburō, the uncle(289) and
guardian of the young daimyō of Satsuma, came in 1862 to Kyōto with the
avowed purpose of advising the emperor in this emergency. He was
accompanied by a formidable body of Satsuma troops, and on these he relied
to have his advice followed.
On his way thither he had been joined by a body of _ronins_ who were
contemplating the accomplishment of some enterprise which should be
notable in the expulsion of foreigners. They imagined that the powerful
head of the Satsuma clan would be a suitable leader for such an
enterprise. They approached him therefore and humbly petitioned to be
received under his standard. Not quite satisfied to have such a band of
reckless ruffians under his command, he, however, scarcely dared to refuse
their petition. He therefore permitted them to join his escort and march
with him to Kyōto.
The emperor’s court, although bitterly hostile to the liberal policy which
prevailed at Yedo, were alarmed by the desperate allies which Shimazu was
bringing with him. He presented their memorial to the emperor, and favored
their wishes to use all the force of the country to dislodge the hated
foreigner from its soil. Other powerful daimyōs were collected at the same
time at the imperial capital, and its peaceful suburbs resounded with the
clank of warlike preparations. The most notable of these was the daimyō of
Chōshū, who at this time was joined with the Satsuma chief in the measures
against the shōgun’s government.
Shimazu continued his journey to Yedo in the summer of 1862, where he
endeavored to impress on the _bakufu_ the necessity of taking measures to
pacify the country. It is safe to say that his suggestions were coldly
received, and he was made to feel that he was in an enemy’s camp. It is
said that the shōgun refused to receive him personally, but referred him,
for any business which he had to present, to the council. It is certain,
therefore, when he left Yedo in September, 1862, with his train and
escort, he was in no amiable frame of mind. And it was in this condition
of irritation that he became the chief actor in an event which was the
saddest of all the collisions between the Japanese and the foreigners.
The Satsuma train left Yedo on the morning of the 14th of September by way
of the _Tōkaidō_, which runs through Kawasaki and skirts the village of
Kanagawa. It consisted of a semi-military procession of guards on foot and
on horseback, of _norimonos_, in which the prince and his high military
and civil attendants were carried, of led-horses for them to ride when
they desired, and of a long straggling continuation of pack-horses and men
carrying the luggage of the train. It was said to contain not less than
eight hundred _samurai_ in attendance on their master.
The etiquette of the road for such trains was well settled in feudal
Japan. The right of way was always accorded to the daimyō, and all
unmilitary persons or parties were required to stand at the side of the
road while the train was passing, to dismount if on horseback, and to bow
to the daimyō’s _norimono_ as it was carried past. It may be supposed that
the _samurai_ in attendance upon the incensed Shimazu were in no humor to
have these rules trifled with, and especially would not deal very tenderly
with any foreigners who might fall in their way.
On the afternoon of the day on which the Satsuma train left Yedo, a small
riding party left Yokohama for the village of Kawasaki, on a visit to the
temple at that place. It consisted of one lady and three gentlemen, one of
whom was Mr. Charles L. Richardson, who had for many years been a merchant
at Shanghai, but who was visiting Japan previous to his return to England.
A few miles north of the village of Kanagawa they encountered the head of
the train, and for some distance passed successive parts of it. They were
either ignorant of the etiquette which required them to withdraw during
the passage of such a cavalcade, or underrated the danger of disregarding
it.
Presently they came upon the troop which had special charge of the
_norimono_ in which the prince was carried. It was surrounded by a
formidable body of retainers, armed with swords and spears. The reckless
riders paid little heed to their scowling looks, and rode carelessly on,
sometimes even threading their way through the interstices of the
straggling train. When they were nearly opposite to the prince’s
_norimono_, which they were about to pass without dismounting or saluting,
they were so alarmed by the evidences of danger that one of the gentlemen
called out to Mr. Richardson who was riding ahead, “Don’t go on, we can
turn into a side road.” The other also exclaimed, “For God’s sake let us
have no row.” Richardson, who was foolhardy and ignorant of those with
whom he had to deal, answered, “Let me alone, I have lived fourteen years
in China and know how to manage these people.” Suddenly a soldier from the
centre of the procession rushed upon them with a heavy two-handed sword
and struck Richardson a fatal blow on his side under the left arm. Both
the other gentlemen were also severely wounded, and the lady had her
bonnet knocked off by a blow aimed at her, but escaped unhurt. They all
started at full speed towards home, riding over the Japanese guards who
undertook to interfere. All except Richardson reached Kanagawa without
further hurt; he after riding a few rods fell from his horse and died from
the effect of his terrible wound.(290)
The excitement in the town was intense. There was a proposition to
organize immediately a force and pursue after the train, in order to
capture the murderer and the Satsuma chief. It was with no small effort
and with the almost unanimous sentiment of the foreign community against
him, that Colonel Neale, the British _chargé d’affaires_, restrained them
from an act which would have brought quick vengeance upon the town and
involved Great Britain in a war with Japan. A demand was made upon the
government for the capture and punishment of the assassin of Mr.
Richardson, and for the payment of an indemnity of £100,000, by the
shōgun’s government and an additional sum by the daimyō of Satsuma.
Neither the surrender of the assassin nor the payment of this indemnity
was willingly undertaken by Satsuma. It ended therefore in Admiral Kuper
being despatched with a squadron of seven vessels to Kagoshima in order to
enforce on the recalcitrant daimyō the terms agreed upon with the
government at Yedo. He arrived on the 11th of August, 1863, and was
received with frowning batteries and a terrible typhoon of wind and rain.
Negotiation failed to effect a settlement and the naval force was called
upon to play its part. Three valuable new steamers, which the daimyō had
recently purchased, were captured and burned. The batteries which lined
the shore were dismantled by the guns of the ships. The city of Kagoshima,
said to have had at this time a population of 180,000 and to have been one
of the most prosperous towns in Japan, was almost completely destroyed by
fire. After this drastic lesson the money demanded was paid, but the
murderer of Richardson was not and probably could not be surrendered, and
never has been publicly known.
The most important result which followed this severe experience was its
moral effect on the Satsuma leaders. They had become convinced that
western skill and western equipments of war were not to be encountered by
the antiquated methods of Japan. To contend with the foreigner on anything
like equal terms it would be necessary to acquire his culture and
dexterity, and avail themselves of his ships and armaments. It was not
long after this therefore, that the first company of Japanese
students(291) were sent to London under the late Count Terashima by the
daimyō of Satsuma, and the purchase of cannon and ships of war was
authorized.
In the meantime another collision still more serious had occurred with the
treaty powers. The daimyō of Chōshū had, as we have seen, taken sides with
the court of Kyōto against the more liberal policy of the shōgun’s
government. He had placed men-of-war as guards and had erected batteries
within his territory on the shores of the Shimonoseki straits through
which ships usually passed on their way to and from the western ports. It
is claimed, and is not improbable, that he was encouraged by the Kyōto
statesmen to attack foreign ships on their way through these narrow
straits, in order to embroil the Yedo government with the treaty powers.
Accordingly on the 25th of June, 1863 the _Pembroke_, a small American
merchant steamer on her way from Yokohama to Nagasaki was fired upon by
two men-of-war belonging to the daimyō of Chōshū. She was not hit or hurt
and escaped through the Bungo channel without injury. Shortly afterwards,
on the 8th of July, the French gunboat _Kienchang_ while at anchor in the
straits, was also fired upon and severely injured. And lastly the Dutch
ship-of-war _Medusa_, in spite of a warning from the _Kienchang_,
undertook to pass the straits and was fired upon by the ships and
batteries of the daimyō of Chōshū, to which she responded with decisive
effect.
News of these hostile acts was brought immediately to Yokohama. The U. S.
Steamship _Wyoming_ was lying there, and was at once despatched to avenge
the insult to the American flag. She arrived at Shimonoseki on July 16th,
and in a conflict with ships and batteries sunk a brig and exploded the
boiler of a steamer. On the 20th inst. the French frigate _Semiramis_ and
the gunboat _Tancrede_ under the command of Admiral Juares arrived to
exact vengeance for the attack on the _Kienchang_. One of the batteries
was silenced, and a force of two hundred and fifty men were landed who
destroyed what remained.
These acts of signal vengeance were followed by negotiations for damages.
The shōgun’s government disavowed the actions of their rebellious
subordinate; but this did not free them from responsibility for the
injuries which he had inflicted. The American minister secured the payment
of twelve thousand dollars for alleged losses by the _Pembroke_, although
as we have seen the vessel got off without any damage. Negotiations in
regard to freeing the Inland sea from obstructions dragged along for
almost a year. The _bakufu_ promised to take measures to reduce to a
peaceful attitude the daimyō of Chōshū whose territories bordered on the
narrow straits of Shimonoseki. But the growing political disturbances of
the nation and the impoverishment of the shōgun’s treasury made it
impossible to carry out its pacific designs.
Finally an expedition was organized by the treaty powers to visit
Shimonoseki, in order to destroy whatever might be in existence there. It
consisted of nine British(292) ships-of-war, four Dutch, three French, and
one steamer, chartered for the occasion to represent the United
States.(293) It sailed from Yokohama on the 28th and 29th of August, 1864.
The attack was made from the 5th to the 8th of September. The daimyō,
finding it useless to contend against such overwhelming odds, gave in his
absolute submission.
After the return of the expedition the representatives of the allied
powers held a conference with the Japanese ministers of foreign affairs
with reference to the final settlement of this unfortunate business. A
convention(294) was entered into between the interested parties, dated the
22d of October, 1864, by which an indemnity of three million dollars was
to be paid by Japan to the four powers for damages and for expenses
entailed by the operations against the daimyō of Chōshū. This sum was to
be paid in instalments of half a million dollars each. The four powers
agreed among themselves as to the division of this indemnity: That France,
the Netherlands, and the United States, in consideration of the actual
attacks made on their shipping, were to receive each one hundred and forty
thousand dollars, and that the remaining sum should be divided equally
between the four powers.
It has always been felt that the exaction of this large indemnity was a
harsh if not an unwarrantable proceeding. The government of Yedo had
disavowed and apologized for the conduct of the rebellious daimyō, and
promised, if time were allowed, to reduce him to subjection. Of the powers
which were allied in the expedition, Great Britain had suffered no damage,
and the United States had already received an indemnity for the injuries
and expenses of the vessel fired upon. To insist, therefore, upon the
government not only paying for the damage inflicted, but for the expense
of an unnecessarily large and costly expedition to suppress the rebellious
subordinate, which was sent contrary to the express protest of the
responsible government, seems too much like that overbearing diplomacy
with which western nations have conducted their intercourse in the
East.(295) The promised sum, however, was at last, after much financial
distress, all paid, and the painful episode was ended.
One undesigned benefit resulted from the Shimonoseki expedition. Just as
the bombardment of Kagoshima had taught the daimyō of Satsuma the folly of
resisting western armaments, so now the daimyō of Chōshū had learned by an
expensive experience the same bitter lesson. For the future these two
powerful clans might therefore be counted on, not only to oppose the
moribund government of Yedo, but to withstand the folly of trying to expel
the foreigners who by treaty with an unauthorized agent had been admitted
into the country. The Chōshū leaders had also taken advantage of their
experiences in this conflict with foreigners to put their troops on a
better basis as regards arms and organization. For the first time the
privilege of the _samurai_ to do all the fighting, was disregarded, and a
division(296) of troops was formed from the common people, which was armed
with foreign muskets and drilled in the western tactics. They went by the
name of “irregular troops” (_kiheitai_), and played no small part in
rendering nugatory the efforts of the shōgun to “chastise” the daimyō of
Chōshū in 1865 and 1866.
Another noteworthy military event deserves mention here. Colonel Neale had
applied to his government for a military guard to protect British
interests at Yokohama. Two companies of the 20th regiment were sent from
Hongkong, and with the consent of the Japanese government took up their
residence in 1864 at barracks in the foreign settlement. They were
afterwards joined by a French contingent, and for many years they were a
familiar sight, and gave a sense of security to the nervous residents.
While these serious collisions were taking place between Japan and the
foreign powers, there was an increasing and irreconcilable animosity
developed between the Kyōto and Yedo governments. The ostensible reason,
which was put forward on all occasions, was the difference of opinion upon
the question of the foreign treaties and foreign intercourse. The Yedo
government had by the force of circumstances become practically familiar
with the views of the representatives of foreign nations, and had been
convinced that the task of expelling foreigners and returning again to the
ancient policy of seclusion was far beyond the power of Japan. On the
contrary, the court of the emperor was a hot-bed of anti-foreign sentiment
in which all the ancient prejudices of the empire naturally flourished,
and where the feudal princes who were jealous of the shōgun found a ready
element in which to foment difficulties.
Two important games were in progress. Yedo was the field on which one of
these was to be decided, and the players were the representatives of the
treaty powers on the one side, and the shōgun’s government on the other.
Victory had already been virtually declared in favor of an open country
and foreign intercourse. The other game was being played at Kyōto between
the shōgun’s friends and his enemies. The stake was a momentous one,
namely, to determine whether the present dual government was to continue
and who was hereafter to wield the destinies of the empire.
The government of the shōgun had long been convinced that it was necessary
to make the best of the presence of foreigners in the country and that it
was vain to make further exertions for their expulsion. But a vast number
of the feudal retainers of the daimyōs were still bitterly hostile, and
took frequent occasion to commit outrages, for which the government was
held responsible. Besides the cases which have been already mentioned, a
new legation which the British government had built in Gotenyama, a site
which the Japanese government had set apart in Yedo for foreign legations,
was burned to the ground in 1863. In the same year the temple buildings in
Yedo which the United States had leased for a legation were burned. Twice
the shōgun’s castle in Yedo had been destroyed by fire. A murderous attack
was made upon British subjects in Nagasaki; Lieutenant de Cannes of the
French troops was assassinated in 1864; and in the same year Major Baldwin
and Lieutenant Bird, two British officers, were murdered at Kamakura.
These repeated outrages seriously disturbed the Yedo government, and led
to several attempts to curtail the privileges which by the treaties were
secured to foreigners. The last proposition of the kind which was made was
one conveyed to the French government by an embassy sent out in 1864. They
presented a request to have the port of Kanagawa closed up and trade to be
confined to Hakodate and Nagasaki. They received no encouragement,
however, and returned with their eyes “opened by the high state of
material and moral prosperity which surrounded them,” and reported the
complete failure of their attempts at persuasion. “The _bakufu_
reprimanded them for having disgraced their functions, and, reducing their
incomes, forced them to retire into private life.”(297)
It is necessary now to trace the course of events at Kyōto. According to
the theory of the government of Japan the emperor was the supreme and
unlimited ruler and the shōgun was his executive. The maintenance of the
emperor and his court was a function of the shōgun, and hence it was
almost always possible for him to compel the emperor to pursue any policy
which he might desire.
At the time now under review Kōmei, the father of the present emperor,
occupied the imperial throne. He had succeeded to this dignity in 1847 at
the age of eighteen, and he died in 1866 at the age of thirty-seven. The
shōgun was Iemochi, who in 1858 had been chosen from the family of Kii,
because of the failure of an heir in the regular line. At the time of his
election he was a boy of twelve years of age, and was placed under the
guardianship of the prime minister Ii Kamon-no-kami. After the
assassination of the prime minister in 1861, Hitotsubashi Gyōbukyō, a son
of the daimyō of Mito, was appointed guardian, and served in this capacity
until the shōgun’s death.
Around the court of the emperor were gathered many discordant elements.
The party of the shōgun was always represented, and the daimyō of Aizu,
its ardent friend and champion, had the honorable distinction of guarding
the imperial palace. By invitation many other daimyōs were at Kyōto with
retinues of officers and attendants, and with guards of troops. The
southern and western daimyōs were present in imposing numbers, and
although they did not always agree among themselves, they were in harmony
in the general purpose to discredit the government at Yedo and to promote
the imperial authority.
The expulsion of foreigners was the common subject of discussion and
agitation. Although again and again it had been assured that it was
impossible to dislodge the treaty powers from their position in the
country, the court still continued to direct its efforts to this object.
For the first time in two hundred and thirty years,(298) when Iemitsu went
up to the imperial court, the Shōgun Iemochi visited Kyōto in 1863 in
order to consult about the affairs of the country. In accordance with the
precedent set by Iemitsu, the shōgun distributed on this occasion rich
presents to the emperor and the officers of his court. He also scattered
among the townspeople his largesses, until “the whole populace, moistened
in the bath of his mercy and goodness, were greatly pleased and
gratified.”(299)
Conferences(300) were held between the daimyōs who were present in Kyōto
and the officials of the court, and in spite of the objections and
remonstrances of the Yedo official, an imperial edict was issued and
entrusted to the shōgun for execution, to expel from the country the hated
foreigners. This edict was notified to the representatives of the treaty
powers by the Yedo officials. They seemed, however, to regard their duty
fully done when this notice was given. No serious steps were ever taken to
carry out these expulsive measures, unless the obstruction of navigation
of the Shimonoseki straits by the daimyō of Chōshū be regarded of this
character.
In 1863 a plot was alleged to have been formed by the Chōshū men to seize
the emperor and carry him off to their own territory. The object aimed at
by this plot was of course to get the court out of the hands of the
shōgun’s friends, and surround it by influences favorable to the plans of
the southern daimyōs. The court, however, became alarmed by the reports in
circulation, and steps were taken to forbid the Chōshū troops, who guarded
Sakaimachi gate, access to the grounds of the imperial palace. Offended by
this action they retired to their own territory. Seven of the most
prominent court nobles (_kuges_)(301) who sympathized with Chōshū in his
aims and purposes accompanied them, and were thereupon deprived of their
rank and revenue.
The departure of the Chōshū clansmen and the triumph of the shōgun’s party
seemed to have put an end to the anti-foreign policy. The emperor and his
court had been forced to the conclusion that the effort to expel the
treaty powers was far beyond the powers of Japan, even if it were united
and its exertions directed from one centre. From this time may be
estimated to begin a new phase in the contest which was to end in the
restoration of the original form of government.
The territory of Chōshū had become the rendezvous for all the disaffected
elements of the empire. The daimyō was looked upon as the patriotic leader
of the country, and _ronins_ from all parts hastened to enroll themselves
under his banner. In the summer of 1864 the Chōshū forces, to the number
of several thousand, composed not only of the _samurai_ of the province,
but also of the disaffected _ronins_ who had gathered there, and of the
“irregular troops,” _kiheitai_, which had been organized, started to
re-enter Kyōto in order to regain the position they had previously
occupied. The contest which followed has been described with lurid
distinctness by native annalists. They were encountered by Hitotsubashi in
command of the troops of Aizu, Echizen, Hikoné, and other loyal clans.
After a battle which lasted several days, and which raged chiefly about
the imperial palace, the Chōshū troops were completely defeated and forced
to retire. It gives us an idea of the terrible earnestness of these
Japanese warriors to read how a little remnant of the Chōshū troops took
refuge on Tennōzan; and when they heard their pursuers approaching, how
seventeen of them committed _hara-kiri_(302); and lest their heads should
be recognized and their names disgraced, how they had thrown themselves
into the flames of a temple which they had set on fire. Three of the
company who had performed the friendly act of decapitation for their
comrades had escaped by mountain roads and made their way back to Chōshū.
[Illustration]
Kido Takeyoshi.
The usual concomitant of fighting in a town had followed, and a great part
of Kyōto had been destroyed by fire.(303) The Satsuma troops had taken an
important part in this repulse of Chōshū. They had intervened at a very
critical moment, and had captured a considerable number of Chōshū
prisoners. But they had treated them with great consideration, and
subsequently had even sent them home with presents, so that the Chōshū men
felt they really had friends instead of enemies in the warlike southern
clan. It is in this battle we catch the first glimpse of the Chōshū
leader, Kido Takeyoshi, then known as Katsura Kogorō.(304) He must have
been about thirty-four years of age, and already gave promise of the
talents which made him one of the most conspicuous and influential
statesmen of the restoration.
In 1865 Sir Harry Parkes arrived in Japan as the envoy plenipotentiary of
the British government. He had resided in China from boyhood, and had been
especially conspicuous in the war between China and Great Britain in 1860.
His career in Japan continued until 1883, when he was promoted to the
court of Peking. He had the good fortune to be the representative of his
country during the most momentous years of modern Japanese history, and in
many of the most important events he exerted an influence which was
decisive.
[Illustration]
Udaijin Iwakura Tomomi.
The troubles in Chōshū were finally brought to a close. The efforts of the
shōgun, although conducted at great expense, were unavailing. Satsuma,
when summoned to render aid in crushing the rebellious prince, declined to
join in the campaign. Through the efforts of Saigō Kichinoske,(305) a
treaty of amity was effected between the two clans. The kind treatment of
the Chōshū prisoners in the attack on Kyōto was remembered, and the help
and alliance of the powerful Kyūshū clan were eagerly accepted. Peace was
negotiated between the shōgun and the rebels. Thus the Chōshū episode was
ended, with no credit to the shōgun’s party, but with a distinct gain to
the cause of the imperial restoration.(306)
It had long been recognized that the treaties which had been made by the
foreign powers would possess a greatly increased influence on the Japanese
people if they could have the sanction of the emperor. The shōgun Iemochi
had been summoned to Kyōto by the emperor to consult upon the concerns of
the nation, and was occupying his castle at Ōsaka. The representatives of
the foreign powers thereupon concluded that it would be a timely movement
to proceed with their naval armaments to Hyōgo, and wait upon the shōgun
at Ōsaka, with the purpose of urging him to obtain the imperial approval
of the treaties. This was accordingly done, and an impressive display of
the allied fleets was made at the town, which has since been opened to
foreign trade.
The shōgun was both young and irresolute, and personally had neither
weight nor influence. But his guardian, Hitotsubashi, was a man of mature
years and judgment. He recognized the importance of obtaining the approval
of the emperor to the foreign treaties, and of thus ending the long and
ruinous agitation which prevailed in the country.
A memorial(307) was presented to the emperor in the name of the shōgun,
setting forth the embarrassment under which the administration of the
country had been conducted on account of the supposed opposition of the
emperor to the treaties, and begging him to relieve them by signifying his
sanction; and assuring him that if this is not given, the foreign
representatives who are at Hyōgo will proceed to the capital and demand it
at his hands.
It ended in the sanction of the treaties being signified October 23, 1865,
by the following laconic decree(308) addressed to the shōgun: “The
imperial consent is given to the treaties, and you will therefore
undertake the necessary arrangements therewith.”
During this critical time the Shōgun Iemochi died September 19, 1866, at
his castle in Ōsaka at the age of eighteen. He had been chosen in 1858, in
the absence of a regular heir, by the determined influence of Ii
Kamon-no-kami, who was then all-powerful at Yedo. He was too young to have
any predominating influence upon affairs. Until the assassination of the
prime minister Ii Kamon-no-kami in 1861 the boy shōgun had been under his
guardianship. Since then that duty had been devolved upon Hitotsubashi, a
son of the diamyō of Mito, who had been himself strongly pressed for the
office of shōgun, but who was alleged to be too mature and resolute a
character for the prime minister’s purposes. As guardian, Hitotsubashi had
taken an active part in the effort to obtain the sanction of the treaties,
and the final success of this important step must in a great measure be
attributed to him.
After the death of Iemochi without direct heirs, the office of shōgun was
offered to Hitotsubashi as a representative of Mito, one of the “honorable
families” from whom a shōgun was to be chosen in case of a failure of
direct heirs. It is said that he accepted the office with great
reluctance, knowing the troubles which would surely await him who assumed
it. He assented only on the command of the emperor and the assurance of
support from many of the diamyōs. He has thus the distinction of becoming
the last of the long line of Tokugawa shōguns, under the name of Tokugawa
Yoshinobu.(309)
A few months after the death of Iemochi, on the 3d of February, 1867,
Emperor Kōmei also died from an attack of small-pox. He is said to have
been strongly prejudiced against foreigners and foreign intercourse, and
it was claimed at the time of his death, that when he sanctioned the
foreign treaties the divine nature left him to fall a prey to the ravages
of ordinary disease. His son Mutsuhito, then in his fifteenth year,
succeeded him and is now the reigning emperor, the one hundred and
twenty-first of his line.
[Illustration]
The Reigning Emperor.
It was thought that the death of an emperor of strong prejudices and of a
mature age would naturally favor a more complete control by the new
shōgun. It was not to be anticipated that an emperor, still only a youth,
would pursue the same policy as his father, and undertake to assume a real
and active part in the government of his country. But the shōgun and his
friends underrated the influences which were gathered at Kyōto, and which
now went far beyond an anti-foreign sentiment and were chiefly concerned
with schemes for restoring the imperial power and unifying the form of
government.
The daimyō of Tosa, who was a man of liberal sentiments and of great
penetration, addressed a letter to the shōgun in October, 1867, in which
he frankly says: “The cause [of our trouble] lies in the fact that the
administration proceeds from two centres, causing the empire’s eyes and
ears to be turned in two different directions. The march of events has
brought about a revolution, and the old system can no longer be persevered
in. You should restore the governing power into the hands of the sovereign
and so lay a foundation on which Japan may take its stand as the equal of
other countries.”(310)
[Illustration]
Imperial Crests.
The shōgun being deeply impressed with the wisdom of this advice drew up a
document addressed to his vassals, asking their opinion of the
advisability of his resignation. Among other things he says: “It appears
to me that the laws cannot be maintained in face of the daily extension of
our foreign relations, unless the government be conducted by one head, and
I propose therefore to surrender the whole governing power into the hands
of the imperial court. This is the best I can do for the interests of the
empire.”(311) According to this announced resolution, on the 19th of
November, 1867, the shōgun resigned into the hands of the emperor his
authority. This surrender was accepted, and thus a dynasty which had
lasted from 1603 came to an end. That this surrender might be declined and
the power still continue to be held by the Tokugawa, was perhaps the hope
and wish of the last shōgun. But it was not to be. The powerful clans who
for years had labored for the destruction of the Tokugawa primacy were
ready to undertake the responsibility of a new government. And although
the change was not to be effected without a struggle, yet from this point
may be counted to begin the new period of the restoration.