CHAPTER XV
VISIT TO KAGOSHIMA AND UWAJIMA
A few days after I had assumed my new duties, and had settled down, as I thought, for a period of uninterrupted study, Sir Harry informed me that he contemplated sending me down to Nagasaki in the "Princess Royal," which was about to proceed thither through the inland sea, to collect political information at Hiôgo and elsewhere. I was to return in the "Argus" by way of Kagoshima and Uwajima. The Tycoon had recently died, and had been succeeded by his cousin Shitotsubashi, whose position, however, was not very clearly defined. Before his elevation to the headship of the Tokugawa family he had been regarded as a partisan of the "return to the ancient régime," now so much in men's mouths, and it was desirable to learn as much as possible of his probable line of policy. In Yedo we were too far away from the political centre to learn much. I was greatly pleased at the prospect of visiting Nagasaki, but took care not to seem too desirous of being sent on the proposed mission, lest over-eagerness should defeat itself. Next day I got a note from Sir Harry, who resided chiefly at Yokohama, telling me that he had not yet seen the Admiral, but that he still thought I should have to go. So I packed up some clothes in a wicker basket such as the Japanese use when travelling, and went down to Yokohama in the gunboat which was our principal means of conveyance between the two places. In the evening I learnt that the matter had been arranged, and that the "Princess Royal" would sail the next day but one. I wrote to Willis for his teacher Hayashi, whom I intended to put ashore at Hiôgo to collect news, and for a tin box containing some stationery, and a little money, but neither arrived in time. In despair I borrowed a few hundred ichibus from Foster, bought a box of cheroots, wrapped a few sheets of foolscap in a newspaper, and got on board on the 12th December just in time.
We had fine weather for our start, but encountered a strong westerly wind outside, which prevented our passing between Vries Island and the mainland. For four days I lay in my cot, utterly unable to eat, but consoling myself with reference to previous experiences of the same kind. At last I was revived by a plateful of greasy beefsteak pudding that Admiral King sent me, and a glass of champagne. The gale had not abated, and the huge two decker rolled terribly. At one time the betting was strong on Hongkong as our first port of anchorage, and Hiôgo was given up as quite unattainable. Hakodaté, Yokohama and Nagasaki rose by turns to the position of favourite. We were blown right out of the chart of Japan, and at last, after many days of tossing to and fro, tacking and wearing, we sighted the Linschoten Islands, where we turned to the north, and steaming as fast as 400 horse power will carry a vessel of 3500 tons, got into Nagasaki on the evening of the 23rd.
The appearance of the town and foreign settlement, lighted up by innumerable lamps dotted all over the hillsides, reminded me of Gibraltar as I had seen it from the deck of the "Indus" a little more than five years previously.
At Nagasaki I made the acquaintance of some retainers of Uwajima, the most important of whom was Iséki Sayemon, afterwards prefect of Yokohama in the first years of the Mikado's rule. He came to call on me, and said that the proposed assemblage of a council of daimiôs at Kiôto had been put off for the present. But it was sure to take place eventually, and one of the first topics of discussion would be the position of Chôshiû. About half of Shi-koku was in favour of Hiôgo being opened to foreign trade, but the Kiûshiû people opposed it, on account of the anticipated decline of Nagasaki. He thought that the visit of the Admiral and Sir Harry Parkes in the "Princess Royal" to Uwajima had done immense good, by familiarizing the common people with the appearance of foreigners, and their ingenuity in the construction of ships and warlike appliances. The daimiô of Uwajima and his brother the ex-daimiô (who was the leading spirit of the clan) had excused themselves on the ground of sickness from attending the council at Kiôto. Shitotsubashi had not yet been invested with the office of Shôgun and its attendant court titles, and the probability was that they would be withheld until he had settled the Chôshiû difficulty, which would doubtless give him a good deal of trouble. When I met him again on the following day the conversation turned upon our relations with Chôshiû. I told him that the British Government had stationed a man-of-war at Shimonoséki to prevent merchant vessels frequenting the straits during the continuance of hostilities between Chôshiû and the Tycoon; we did not wish to interfere in any of the civil quarrels of the Japanese. We were at peace with Chôshiû, who had agreed to let foreign vessels pass without molestation, and had undertaken to let them purchase wood, water, and other necessaries, while promising to build no more batteries.
The Tycoon's government had undertaken to pay the indemnity imposed upon the Prince of Chôshiû. The powers, however, did not care for the money, and would be willing at any time to abandon the indemnity if their doing so would tend to the improvement of relations with Japan. The Tycoon's people had asked for delay in making payment of the remaining instalments, and in consenting to this, the foreign ministers had obtained in return the concession of permission for Japanese to travel in foreign countries. It was to be supposed, however, that the nation was desirous of having the ancient prohibition removed, and the government would have had, therefore, no excuse for maintaining it. Hiôgo would certainly be opened on the 1st of January 1868 in accordance with the undertaking entered into by the Tycoon; the intention of the Powers was to uphold the treaties in their entirety and get them carried out. We could not ask for the opening of Shimonoséki under the present treaties, as the Tycoon's authority did not extend so far. It would require a separate treaty with Chôshiû. As long as the present treaties remained unchanged, no ports could be opened in daimiôs' territories.
At Hiôgo we had discussed matters with the Tycoon's Council, who, we now learnt, had deceived us by concealing the Mikado's injunction to them to negotiate for the abandonment of Ozaka and Hiôgo as seats of foreign commerce. It was a pity we had not thrown them over, and negotiated direct with the Mikado's court, from which we heard that a noble had been deputed to visit the foreign representatives.
During my stay at Nagasaki I made the acquaintance of officers from Tosa and Higo. One of the latter said that there never would be another Shôgun, but that the Mikado would be restored to the throne. Here was a clear glimpse into the future. My instructions from Sir Harry were to proceed from Nagasaki to Kagoshima and Uwajima, and call in at Hiôgo on my way back. I embarked, therefore, on the 1st January 1867 in the "Argus," Commander Round, with my two servants, Noguchi Tomizô and Yasu. The former was a young samurai of Aidzu, who had left his home and attached himself to Vyse, our consul at Hakodaté, in order to study English. In the autumn of 1865 he came to live with me, to carry on his studies, and on the present occasion he had accompanied me to Nagasaki, whence he was to have gone to England as cabin-servant to Alexander Buller, the Commander of the flagship. But whether it was the tossing about on the way down, or the disagreeable servant's position, he now changed his mind, and begged me to take him back to Yedo. Buller expressed himself as somewhat annoyed, but I could not help it. Noguchi eventually went with me in 1869 to England, where I paid for his schooling during a couple of years. After my return to Japan he stayed on awhile in London at the expense of the Japanese government, and eventually came back to Tôkiô, where he obtained a minor appointment in a public office. In spite of his then comparatively elevated position, he never gave himself airs, or forgot that I had befriended him, and it was with great regret that I heard of his death about the beginning of 1885. He was honest and faithful to the end. Yasu was a young monkey belonging to the lower classes, and I don't remember that he had any virtues.
Round did not treat me very well, and made me sleep in the cockpit, a sort of common den in the bottom of the ship, where the midshipmen keep their chests and sling their hammocks. There was no privacy, and we were crowded together in a most uncomfortable manner. I got a cot to sleep in, but no mattress or pillow, and was forced to borrow a cushion off a bunk in the captain's cabin and roll up my greatcoat for a pillow.