GREAT FIRE AT YOKOHAMA
IN pursuance of instructions from the chief, I proceeded to Yedo the day
after my return to find out if possible what had been the popular
feeling about our doings at Hiôgo, but did not succeed in discovering
anything of importance. A general curiosity prevailed, and the result of
the negotiations was yet unknown. A meeting of the _daimiôs_' agents had
been held on the receipt of the news that two of the council had been
dismissed, and it was rumoured that the Tycoon had asked to be allowed
to retire, but that his petition had been rejected. I stopped at the
monastery of Dai-chiû-ji, which had been temporarily lent to Sir Harry
for a residence. It was in a convenient position, nearer to the centre
of the city than our former location at Tô-zen-ji, but the rooms were
dark and scarcely numerous enough for the accommodation of the staff in
addition to the minister and his family. A new building had therefore
been already commenced in front of Sen-gaku-ji, about half-way between
the two, and, instead of being called the British Legation, was to be
named the _setsu-gu-jo_ or "place for meeting (sc. foreigners)," in
order to avoid the risk of its being burnt down by the anti-foreign
party. Report said that the Prince of Sendai, offended at not having
been consulted on this matter, had retired to his castle in great
dudgeon. Sen-gaku-ji is a well-known monastery containing the tombs and
effigies of the celebrated "Forty-seven faithful retainers." After a
couple of days' stay at the capital, I returned to my duties at the
consulate in Yokohama, where I now held the post of interpreter.
I was beginning to become known among the Japanese as a foreigner who
could speak their language correctly, and my circle of acquaintance
rapidly extended. Men used to come down from Yedo on purpose to talk to
me, moved as much by mere curiosity as by a desire to find out what
foreign policy towards their country was likely to be. Owing to my name
being a common Japanese surname, it was easily passed on from one to
another, and I was talked about by people whom I had never met. The
two-sworded men were always happy to get a glass of wine or liqueur and
a foreign cigar, and they were fond of discussion. They would sit for
hours if the subject interested them. Politics afforded the principal
material of our debates, which sometimes became rather warm. I used to
attack the abuses of the existing régime, and then explain that I liked
them very much, but hated despotic institutions. Many of the men who
visited me were retainers of _daimiôs_, from whom I gained every day a
firmer conviction that the Tycoon ought not to be regarded by foreigners
as the sovereign of the country, and that sooner or later we must enter
into direct relations with the Mikado. And the state papers, of which
copies came into my hands through these men, proved that the Tycoon
regarded himself as nothing more than the Mikado's principal vassal. At
the same time the Tycoon's ministers still persevered in their endeavour
to keep the conduct of foreign affairs in their own hands, and had
succeeded in persuading Mr. Winchester that this was an ancient and
indefeasible prerogative of the Tokugawa family. Sir Harry Parkes,
however, from the first, with clearer insight, held that this was
untenable, and resolved to press matters to a definite solution, which
should bring the sovereign face to face with foreign Powers.
Sir Harry had gone over to Shanghai to meet Lady Parkes and his
children, and immediately after his return set to work at the revision
of the tariff on the basis agreed to at Hiôgo. The negotiations, which
began about January 1866, took much less time than is usual in these
days, and the new convention was signed in June. I had little to do with
it beyond assisting in its translation into Japanese. In February he
began to make use of me as a translator, in addition to my work at the
consulate.
My salary as interpreter at the Yokohama consulate, which I had joined
in April 1865, was only £400 a year, and after the Hiôgo business, where
I had demonstrated my knowledge of the Japanese language, I began to
think my services worth quite as much as those of the Dutch
interpreters, who received £500. At an interview with the Japanese
ministers they used to translate into Dutch what the minister said, and
the native Dutch interpreters translated this again into Japanese. The
reply had in the same way to go through two men. But when Siebold or I
interpreted, the work was performed much more quickly and accurately,
because we translated direct into Japanese. It was the same with the
official correspondence, for I was able, with the assistance of a native
writer, and sometimes without, to put an official note directly into
Japanese. Then I was able to read and translate into English all sorts
of confidential political papers, which the Dutch interpreters could
make nothing of. We took a bold resolution, and in August 1866, Sir
Harry having given me a quantity of political documents to translate, we
addressed letters to him asking that he would recommend us to the
Foreign Office for an additional £100 a year. This brought down his
wrath upon our heads, and I became convinced that my application would
be refused. Under these circumstances I wrote to my father that the
service was not worth remaining in. At that time the telegraph reached
only to Ceylon, but in as short a time as possible I received a telegram
from him telling me to come home at once, and that I should have an
allowance sufficient to enable me to go to the university and afterwards
to the bar. Armed with this, I approached Sir Harry again, and asked him
to accept my resignation. I had received a telegram from home which
necessitated my immediate return to England. After a little humming and
hawing, he finally produced from a drawer a despatch from Lord
Clarendon, which had been lying there for several days, granting the
applications of both Siebold and myself, and I consequently abandoned my
intention of quitting the service.
About March 6, 1866, a review and sham fight were held of the English
garrison in combination with the Japanese drilled troops commanded by
Kubota Sentarô on the dry rice fields between Jiû-ni-ten and Hommoku.
The enemy was entirely imaginary, his place being taken by a crowd of
spectators. The marching of the Japanese was very good, and received all
the greater praise because they had received no practical instruction.
Their officers had got it up from books, the difficult passages being
explained to them by ours. The English soldiers looked magnificent by
the side of the rather dwarfish Japanese. The bluejackets from the fleet
were very amusing; one or two got drunk and danced a hornpipe in the
face of the supposed enemy, to the great wrath and disgust of their
commander, a young lieutenant. There was the usual amount of firing with
blank cartridge, which, when it comes from one side only, renders every
one so plucky and desirous of charging the foe. It was a wonder that no
ramrods were fired away, nor was any one hit by a wad. The day was
universally voted a great success.
The 2/xx regiment was despatched to Hongkong about March 20, and
replaced by the 2/ix.
The danger to foreigners had so much abated since the execution of the
murderers of Bird and Baldwin, and the ratification of the treaties by
the Mikado that we began freely to make excursions into the surrounding
country.
On one occasion I went away for a few days with Charles Rickerby of the
"Japan Times," and having thus become intimate with him, was permitted
to try my inexperienced pen in the columns of his paper. My first
attempt was an article upon travelling in Japan, but before long an
incident occurred which tempted me to write on politics. It was
doubtless very irregular, very wrong, and altogether contrary to the
rules of the service, but I thought little of that. A Satsuma trading
steamer had come into the bay, and was ordered by the authorities to
anchor far away on the Kanagawa side, so that there might be no
communication between the foreign community and the people on board.
Taking this for my text, I descanted on the insufficiency of the
treaties concluded with the Tycoon, which confined us to commercial
intercourse with the inhabitants of his dominions, and thus cut us off
from relations with a good half of the country. I called therefore for a
revision of the treaties, and for a remodelling of the constitution of
the Japanese government. My proposal was that the Tycoon should descend
to his proper position as a great territorial noble, and that a
confederation of daimiôs under the headship of the Mikado should take
his place as the ruling power. And then I proceeded to make various
suggestions for the improvement and modification of the existing
treaties. With the aid of my teacher, Numata Torasaburô, a retainer of
the Prince of Awa, who knew some English, I put them into Japanese in
the form of a pamphlet for the perusal of his prince, but copies got
into circulation, and in the following year I found myself to be
favourably known through this means to all the _daimiôs_ retainers whom
I met in the course of my journeys. In the end the translation was
printed and sold in all the bookshops at Ozaka and Kiôto under the title
of "Ei-koku Saku-ron," English policy, by the Englishman Satow, and was
assumed by both parties to represent the views of the British Legation.
With this of course I had nothing to do. As far as I know it never came
to the ears of my chief, but it may fairly be supposed to have been not
without its influence upon the relations between the English Legation
and the new government afterwards established in the beginning of 1868.
At the same time, it doubtless rendered us more or less "suspect" to the
Tycoon's government while the latter lasted.
During Sir Harry's absence in July on a visit to the _daimiôs_ of
Satsuma and Uwajima after the signature of the tariff convention, some
of us at the legation made up a party with three or four officers of the
ix regiment, and went for a trip to Hachiôji and Atsugi. In those days
all the high roads were intersected at certain points by strictly
guarded barriers, where all travellers had to show their passports.
Beyond Hachiôji a few miles to the west was one of these, just at the
foot of a hill known as Takao-zan, about 1600 feet high, with a good
road to the top. Up this we rode on our sure-footed ponies, and after
lunching under the shade of the lofty cryptomerias, descended to the
high road again, but unintentionally reached it beyond the barrier. The
guards, who were inclined to interpret their duties rather too strictly
than otherwise, shut the gates and refused to let us pass. It was in
vain that we explained our mistake; they had orders not to let
foreigners through. One would have thought that as we were on the side
where we had no business to be, and were desirous of getting back to the
right side, the officers in command would have facilitated our wishes to
repair our error. But nothing would move them. At last Willis, who stood
6 feet 8 inches in his stockings and weighed then about 20 stone, made
as if he would charge the gate on his pony, and seriously alarmed lest
he should batter the whole thing down in a rush, they prudently flung it
open, and we rode through triumphantly.
A similar incident occurred on another occasion when I was out with
Francis Myburgh, Captain W. G. Jones, R.N., of the flagship, and Charles
Wirgman. The limit of excursions from Yokohama in the direction of the
capital was formed by the Tama-gawa, which in the treaties is called the
Logo river (a corruption of Rokugô). We had slept at Mizoguchi, and
ascended the right bank on horseback to Sekido, where without difficulty
we induced the ferryman to put us across, and rode into the town of
Fuchiû to visit a well-known Shintô temple. We were bound for a
monastery on the other side of the river, where we had planned to spend
the night, and to do this it was necessary to recross further up to the
Buddhist monastery of Ren-kô-ji. But on arriving there, and shouting to
the ferryman, we got a blank refusal, accompanied by the information
that we had no business to be where we were. "We know that we are, and
want to get back where we ought to be." _Ferryman_: "Can't help that.
Our orders are not to ferry any foreigner over." It was impossible to
convince him that though he would be right in refusing to facilitate a
breach of the law, he was bound to assist the repentant and contrite
offenders in repairing such a breach, and we saw ourselves menaced with
separation from our baggage and perhaps a cold night on the stones. Just
above the ferry was a shallower spot, too deep to cross on ponies
without getting rather wet. Charles Wirgman and I therefore took off our
trousers, and tucking our shirts up as high as possible waded to the
other bank, walked down to the ferry house, jumped into the boat before
the ferrymen had time to recover from their surprise at our audacity,
poled it across to our friends amid cries of _Koré wa rambô-rôzeki_
(about equivalent to "Robbery and murder") from the guardians of the
posts, and so got the whole party across.
On the 26th of November occurred one of the most destructive fires with
which Yokohama has ever been visited. One fourth of the foreign
settlement and one-third of the native town were laid in ashes. The
fire-bell began to ring about nine o'clock in the morning. Willis and I
ascended to the look-out on the roof of our house and saw the flames
mounting to the sky exactly to windward of us, maybe half a mile away. I
rushed into a pair of boots (unluckily my oldest), and putting on my
hat, hastened forth to find out the location of the fire. My servants
said it was only a few doors off, but when I got that distance it proved
to be further away, and I pursued my course for a quarter of an hour
before arriving on the scene. From the lower end of a narrow street,
usually well crowded but now absolutely crammed with people, there
surged along an agitated multitude carrying such of their goods as they
had been able to snatch from the devouring element that closely pursued
them. I approached as near as I could to the burning houses, but finding
that the conflagration was rapidly advancing, beat a hasty retreat and
made my way to the open space at the back of the settlement, where a
terrible spectacle of confusion presented itself to my eyes. The portion
of the native town where the fire was raging most violently was on a
small island surrounded by a muddy swamp and connected with the rest of
Yokohama by a wooden bridge, already crowded with fugitives; to wade or
swim across to the firm ground was impossible. There were one or two
boats available, but they were already overcrowded, and their occupants
were so paralysed by fear that they never thought of landing and sending
back the boats to take off others. Most of the inhabitants of the
quarter were women. I saw a few poor wretches plunge into the water in
order to escape, but they failed to reach the nearer bank. It was a
fearful sight to see the flames darting among the roofs of the houses on
the causeway, and sending forth jets here and there where the fire had
not yet attained full mastery, when suddenly one half of the street
nearest blazed up with a tremendous flash, and a volume of black smoke
arose which obscured the sky. This was an oil merchant's shop that had
caught fire. I turned and fled homewards, for there was no time to lose.
I knew my own house was doomed, as it lay directly to leeward, and a
violent wind was blowing from the north-west. As I passed through the
little garden I shouted to Willis to bestir himself, and called my
servants to assist in packing up my movables. My first thought was for
my MS. dictionary; if that went I lost the results of two years' labour.
So I put it into a light chest of drawers, and huddled some clothes in
from the wardrobe. To get our things out we had to break down the high
wooden fence round the garden. At this moment up came some friends, who
plunged into the house and reappeared, some with books, others with half
a chest of drawers, and we worked with a will until the building was
cleared of everything but carpets, curtains, and the heavier furniture.
My harmonium, a massive article, was also got into the street, and some
men from the garrison carried it away to a place of safety.
By the time we had removed the salvage to what we thought was a
respectable distance, the fire had reached the house, which five minutes
later was a heap of glowing embers. It now became evident that the
houses in the rear of the settlement had caught fire, and as my property
was lying on the open space between the foreign and native towns, it had
to be transported further. Here occurred a serious loss. Most of my
books were in boxes which had been carried out bodily, but the rest,
hastily wrapped up in blankets, had to be left. There were plenty of
pilferers about, who, under the pretence of helping, carried off chests
full of clothing that I never saw again. I lost a good many European
volumes and a large number of Japanese books, besides some notes on
Manchu and Chinese which were irreplaceable.
After we had deposited our property where we thought it would be in
safety, it was threatened by the progress of the flames, and was
therefore removed to a godown belonging to our friends Wilkin and
Robison at No. 3 in the settlement. By this time the area of destruction
had extended to the main street of the native town, and the houses where
A. B. Mitford, A. von Siebold, Walsh and Vidal lived, as well as our
own, had already gone. A Japanese house lightly built of wood, with
paper instead of glass, takes little time to burn. Next the fire spread
to the nearest houses in the foreign settlement. Huge sparks and pieces
of red hot wood flew across the intervening space, set the American
consulate alight, ignited the roof of Jardine, Matheson & Co., and began
to spread along both streets of the settlement. The supposed "fireproof"
godown where most of our things were deposited caught fire, and nearly
everything we had saved was destroyed. It was a scene of the wildest
confusion. Bluejackets were landed from the ships, and soldiers came
down from the camp to work at the fire engines. There was no discipline
among the men, and no organization existed for dealing with the
disaster. After the final destruction of my own property I went about
helping others to save theirs or to fight the flames, handing buckets,
fetching water, pouring it on whatever seemed most inflammable. Some of
the redcoats behaved disgracefully. They had managed to get hold of
liquor, and stood by drinking and jeering, while we civilians did the
work they had been brought there to perform. At the close of the day
there remained to me only the clothes I had on my back, and I was
hatless. But the excitement had been so lively that I felt rather
pleased at the idea of beginning the world afresh. I had saved the
manuscript of the English-Japanese dictionary on which Ishibashi and I
were then engaged, as well as that of an annotated edition of Sir R.
Alcock's _Colloquial Japanese_, which was then in the press, though
destined never to see the light. My loss came to between £300 and £400,
a portion of which was afterwards made good to me by Her Majesty's
Government. The losses of the insurance offices amounted to $2,800,000,
or about £700,000. The value of what was not insured was not great.
The conflagration raged so fiercely among the foreign warehouses and
residences that before four o'clock in the afternoon it had made its way
half down the bund, leaving only the club-house standing, and at one
period it was thought that the whole settlement would be in a blaze
before night. If that had happened the European community would have had
to seek an asylum on board ship, but fortunately our fears were not
realized. The flames seemed invincible by the side of our puny efforts.
The expedient was resorted to of blowing up houses in the line of fire,
but not with great success, for some of those so destroyed were never
touched by it at all, while in other instances the _débris_ could not be
cleared away, and only helped it to spread to the buildings beyond. One
hundred and seven Europeans and Americans were rendered homeless, and
many of those who had trusted in their so-called fireproof godowns were
left without anything in the world but the clothes they stood in.
Merchants whose goods were uninsured were devoured by a terrible
anxiety, for the most solidly-constructed stone godowns seemed to offer
little more resistance than the wooden houses of the Japanese.
Although the wind had fallen, much apprehension was entertained for the
safety of what still remained unburnt, for owing to the damaged
condition of the hose, all the fire engines had become useless, and
nothing could be done to extinguish the smouldering embers. The fire was
therefore left to burn itself out, and four days elapsed before the
flames entirely died down. The price of clothing rose incredibly, as
also did house rent. Yokohama was not as well supplied with hatters,
tailors and bootmakers as it is in these days, and most men were in the
habit of supplying themselves from home. For the next two years,
consequently, I was reduced to a very moderate wardrobe. I had, for
example, to pay $4, or 18 shillings, for five pocket handkerchiefs.
After the fire I took up my abode with my friend Tom Foster, then the
manager of Gilman & Co.'s Yokohama branch, until the 9th or 10th of
December, when I migrated to the Legation at Yedo. The new buildings in
front of Sen-gaku-ji were now completed, and enclosed by a lofty black
wooden fence which imparted to the establishment somewhat of the aspect
of a jail. There were two long wooden buildings, one of which was the
minister's residence, the other being occupied by the members of the
chancery. Eusden had gone to Hakodaté as acting consul, and the staff
consisted of Mitford as second secretary, Willis as assistant accountant
and medical officer, Siebold and myself as interpreters, and Vidal as
student interpreter. The infantry guard was commanded by Lieutenant
Bradshaw. Sidney Locock, the first secretary, a married man with a
family, lived at Yokohama, as did also H. S. Wilkinson, still a student.
They were "ramshackle" buildings, all windows and doors, terribly cold
from want of proper fireplaces and bad construction, which admitted
draughts on every side. But I did not live there long.
After my transfer from the Yokohama consulate to the Legation in the
autumn of 1866, one of the first matters in which I was able to be of
use to our new chief was connected with the wording of the treaty. In
the English text the Tycoon was spoken of as "His Majesty," and thus
placed on a level with the Queen. In the Japanese version, however, this
epithet was rendered by the equivalent of "Highness," and it was thus to
be inferred that our sovereign was of lower rank than the Mikado.
Moreover, the word "queen" had been translated by a title which was
borne by great-grand-daughters of a Mikado. I recommended that a new
Japanese version should be made, in which "Majesty" should be rendered
by its proper Japanese equivalent, and "Queen" by the word _Kôtei_
(Hwang-ti), usually translated by "Emperor" in all the Chinese-English
dictionaries, but really meaning "supreme sovereign," and applicable to
both sexes. The preparation of the new version was entrusted to my
hands, and with the aid of my teacher I managed in about a month's time
to complete an accurate translation, which was adopted as official. It
was the keynote of a new policy which recognized the Mikado as the
sovereign of Japan and the Tycoon as his lieutenant. We gave up the use
of "Tycoon," which my reading had taught me was properly a synonym for
the Mikado, in our communications with the Japanese government, though
retaining it in correspondence with the Foreign Office, in order not to
create confusion, but the most important result was to set in a clearer
light than before the political theory that the Mikado was the
treaty-making power. As long as his consent had not been obtained to the
existing treaties we had no _locus standi_, while after he had been
induced to ratify them, the opposition of the _daimiôs_ ceased to have
any logical basis.