On the 5th January we left Kagoshima and anchored in Uwajima Bay at eleven o'clock on the following day.
The beautiful bay is completely landlocked, and surrounded by hills of varying height up to 2000 feet. Close behind the town, on its east side, rises a high peak known as Oni-ga-jô, the "demon's castle." The prince's fortress was a conspicuous object to the right of the town; it stood on a low, wooded hill, close to the seashore, and consisted of a three-storied keep, surrounded by a double wall of stonework surmounted by white plastered walls, almost hidden by the trees. South of this lay the official quarter, the citizens' quarter being to the east and north, stretching for some distance along the shore, as the hills behind leave the town no room to expand. Close in shore the water is very shallow, and advantage had been taken of this to construct salterns and reclaim rice fields by building a dyke. There was a small battery on each side of the bay, more for show than for defensive use.
About an hour and a half after we anchored, a boat was noticed hovering about the stern, with a person in the stern-sheets busily engaged in examining the ship through an opera glass. Finding out that it was the prince, Commander Round sent a gig at once to invite him on board. He explained his curious behaviour by saying that he had wished to remain incognito. The Admiral's letter wishing him a happy new year was produced, and after I had translated its contents, he took possession of it. He was aged 32, of about middle height, and had an aristocratic cast of countenance, with a slightly aquiline nose, on the whole a handsome man. As a matter of course he was shown over the ship. In the meantime I had some conversation with a gentleman-like young man of about twenty years of age named Matsuné Kura, son of the principal karô. He said that Satsuma and Uwajima were on very friendly terms, which was natural, as the ex-daimiô and Shimadzu Saburô had been amongst the little band of princes who were disgraced for their opposition to the elevation of the lately deceased Tycoon. Shitotsubashi had not been appointed Shôgun, and perhaps never would be.
When the prince returned on shore I accompanied him in the gig, and found a number of his women waiting for him on the bank with his children, the eldest of whom was a little boy of seven years of age. The others were mostly babies in arms, and each was attended by an undernurse bearing a small sword wrapped in gold brocade. The Japanese samurai was accustomed to the companionship of his weapon from his very infancy. The prince was extremely affable, and promised to repeat his visit on the following day, and to bring the in-kio or ex-daimiô with him. I said good-bye, and went into the town, where I met three officers from the ship engaged in "curio" hunting. An immense crowd followed us everywhere, examining our clothes and asking all manner of questions, but behaving with the utmost civility. I felt my heart warm more and more to the Japanese.
On the 7th January it rained violently and blew hard all day, but the weather did not prevent the daimiô and the in-kio from coming on board. The latter was a tall man with strongly marked features and a big nose, and reputed to be one of the most intelligent of his class, imperious in manner, and 49 years of age. He was not a born Daté (that was the surname of the Uwajima daimiôs), but had been adopted from a hatamoto family in Yedo. After his adoption the present daimiô was born, and the relationship between them was that of brothers by adoption. But still the adopted son could not be set aside, and he eventually succeeded to the title and fief, but by way of compensation to the younger brother who had lost his birthright, he adopted him as his son. Consequently, when the prince was disgraced in 1858 the real heir succeeded. In-kio (living retired) is a common term for the head of a family, whether noble or commoner, who has given up the active headship and the management of the estate to his son, a not unusual thing in "Old Japan" for a father who had reached the sixties. Here the in-kio was manifestly the ruling spirit, and it was touching to observe the immense respect paid to him by the titular prince, who always addressed him as father, while he on his part used the depreciatory term sengaré (my youngster) in speaking of the daimiô. They stopped for a couple of hours talking and drinking some Moselle with which I had provided myself at Nagasaki.
The in-kio began to talk eagerly to me about the very suspicious intimacy that existed between the Tycoon's government (baku-fu) and the French Legation, but as soon as old Matsuné, the principal councillor, perceived that his master was becoming indiscreet, he hurried him away on the pretext that it would be too late to fire the salute. So away they went, amid the thunder of seventeen guns, which was returned from one of the batteries. After he left the wives and families of the two princes flocked on board. They were not in the least afraid of us, and conversed with as much ease and readiness as European ladies. There was a Japanese officer on board, afterwards Admiral Hayashi Kenzô.
Noguchi, who had been ashore to have a hot bath and get shaved, had brought me an invitation to dine with Iriyé, the captain of the battery. So I took a boat and went off in spite of the wind and rain. My host had not yet returned from his duties, but his wife asked me to come in, and in about a quarter of an hour he made his appearance. Soon afterwards another artillery officer named Mori came in, and then two more juniors. Dinner was at once ordered. It consisted of innumerable courses of fish and soup, and lasted from six o'clock till eleven. We talked, drank hot saké, and sang by turns, and I had to answer a multitude of questions on all possible subjects. This gave me numerous opportunities of uttering appropriate wise saws and proverbial sayings, which gave my hearers unbounded delight, and inspired them with no small amount of respect for the philosophy of the western peoples. At half-past eleven the last guest retired, and after we had eaten a little rice, we went to bed in Japanese fashion. I was surprised to find that one could sleep comfortably without sheets.
On the following morning, after a good breakfast à la Japonaise, I rejoined the ship, and started in company with Round, and Wright and Dunn of the ixth regiment, who as I have hitherto neglected to mention, had come on board at Nagasaki, for the rifle range, in accordance with an engagement made on the previous day. A guard of honour of 25 men received us at the landing-place, and we were escorted by an officer of the Uwajima navy. Half-way we found another guard, which fell in and led us up a pretty stiff hill to the ranges. Some of our small-arms men were landed to exhibit their skill. We had to walk a short distance and climb the hills. There is not sufficient flat ground in Uwajima for a proper rifle range, so the butts were placed on the side of another hill separated from us by a valley about 700 yards wide. Here we found tents set us, and the in-kio, his own son, and the prince awaiting our arrival. Our men, who were not accustomed to shooting across a chasm of unknown depth and width, showed themselves less skilful than the Uwajima marksmen, who had the advantage of knowing their ground.
We got the shooting over by half-past one, and the whole party then proceeded to the goten or palace, which was outside the castle. It was an old building, dating from about 500 years back, but without pretensions to architectural style. We were not received at the great entrance, but at some temporary steps erected for the occasion which led up at once from the garden into the verandah. Here old Matsuné met us and conducted us into a long room, which was shut off on all sides by handsome folding screens covered with gold leaf. At one end of the room was a particularly large screen, which the prince said was a present to his ancestor from the great Taikô-sama. A table was placed down the middle of the room, with armchairs on the right side for the in-kio, the prince, and Matsuné, while on the left were seated Round and his officers. I sat at the head of the table to facilitate conversation.
The dinner was beautifully got up, every separate dish prettily arranged and decorated, but the most tasteful of all was a wild duck with all its plumage perfect, and the roasted meat cut up small and laid on the back between the wings, elevated in such a way as to convey the idea that the bird was swimming and flying at the same time. Other dishes consisted of huge crayfish, and there was a large baked tai, as required by etiquette, for each person. Each of us had a large porcelain cup to drink from, and the warm liquor was handed round in pewter vessels with long spouts, like flat teapots. The ex-prince exchanged cups with Round, myself, and the two redcoats in turn, and the same ceremony was aftwards gone through with the prince and his minister, old Matsuné.