Chapter XIV. Revolutionary Preludes.
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 [pg 336] 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 [pg 337] 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 [pg 338] 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 [pg 339] 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 [pg 340] 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 [pg 341] 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 [pg 342] 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 [pg 343] 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 [pg 344] 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 [pg 345] 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] [pg 346] 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 [pg 347] 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 [pg 348] 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 [pg 349] 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, [pg 350] 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 [pg 351] 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 [pg 352] 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 [pg 353] 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 [pg 354] 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 [pg 355] 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 [pg 356] 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 [pg 357] 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 [pg 358] 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.
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 [pg 359] 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.
Udaijin Iwakura Tomomi.
The troubles in Chōshū were finally brought to a close. The efforts of the shōgun, although conducted [pg 360] 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 [pg 361] 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 [pg 362] 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 [pg 363] 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.
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]
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 [pg 365] 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 [pg 366] 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.