At three o'clock in the afternoon I therefore set out alone. It took me a long time to get through the city to the Gojô bridge, as I completed my sight-seeing as I went, and I did not reach Fushimi till dark. There I found Oyama's elder brother, who was Satsuma agent (rusui), and from words dropped by Notsu, the captain of my escort, I learnt that the orders to march on Yedo were expected to be issued in a day or two. At nine o'clock we embarked for Ozaka in a fifty koku flat-bottomed boat, long and narrow, with a roofing of coarse straw mats supported by rafters resting on a pole laid from one end of the boat to the other, horribly uncomfortable, and especially so when crowded. We got to our destination at 6.30 next morning, and I crossed to Hiôgo in the gunboat. Notsu said that in the recent fighting the heads of all the wounded who could not escape had been taken off, a proceeding hardly reconcilable with what we had been told about the resolution to spare the lives of prisoners; unless, indeed, it was done to put them out of their pain.
The next entry in my journal is of February 29th, when Daté came over from Ozaka. On arriving he went to the consulate by invitation from the chief to have lunch, and began to talk about the Foreign Representatives being presented to the Mikado, who was to be brought down to Ozaka, perhaps by March 13. We had to stop this interesting communication in order that he might go to call on the other ministers. In the evening I went to see him, when he told me M. Roches had asked to see Saigô, Okubo, Komatsu and Gotô, as he understood they were the leaders of the Kiôto movement; this had greatly annoyed the dear old man, who resented being ignored in that fashion, and said he hated Roches and his interpreter. Roches had sent to say he would call next morning, and it was with difficulty that I persuaded him to receive the visit, instead of going on board H.M.S. "Ocean" on Sir Harry's invitation. Inouyé Bunda, whom I saw that day, told me the French consul at Nagasaki had refused to pay duties to the provisional government, and had threatened war, especially against Satsuma and Chôshiû. We had a good laugh over this exhibition of impotent wrath.
CHAPTER XXVIII
Harakiri—NEGOTIATIONS FOR AUDIENCE OF THE MIKADO AT KIOTO
Next day Daté introduced to the Foreign Representatives Sawa Mondô no Kami, one of the five fugitive court nobles of 1864, who was proceeding to Nagasaki as governor, together with the daimiô of Omura, who was to furnish his guard. Sawa wore rather a forbidding expression of countenance, not to say slightly villainous, but for all that had the look of a good companion, and a year or two later, when he was minister for Foreign Affairs, we liked him greatly. Omura Tango no Kami, to give him his full title, was a weak, sickly looking man, who did not utter a word during the interview, and seemed even afraid of speaking to a foreigner. Sawa's son, a dissipated-looking young man, with the white complexion of a woman, was also present. After the compliments were over, these three were turned out of the room, and we learnt that the Bizen affair would be wound up by the decapitation of the responsible officer. Early that morning the chief had been asking my opinion about the advisability of granting a reprieve, or rather a mitigation of the penalty. Mitford learnt from von Brandt that the colleagues knew him to have leanings that way, and that he was believed to have put forward Polsbroek, the Dutch Political Agent, to advocate clemency. Mitford and I had however agreed previously that lenience would be a mistake, and that was the view I maintained in reply to Sir Harry. Daté and Sawa came to dinner that evening with the chief, an arrangement which he fancied he had kept secret from his colleagues, but they knew of it as soon as the invitation was accepted. Afterwards there was a long conversation which lasted until midnight, a principal topic being the proposed visit of the Mikado to Ozaka. Daté said the object of the excursion was to open the mind of the young sovereign by showing him something of the outer world, and also a big English man-of-war. Of course, he added, if the foreign diplomats were there at the time, they might be presented. Parkes said the Mikado might receive the Diplomatic Body as a whole, but not each minister separately, his object being to secure priority of presentation for himself, as he had already written home for new credentials. Daté suggested that the capital might possibly be moved from its present position to Ozaka, as it was situated at a spot hemmed in by mountains, to which all supplies had to be transported by water. My own belief was that Satsuma and Chôshiû wanted to get the person of the Mikado into their own hands in order to make him march with the army, and secondly to have him on the sea-coast in order to be able to cut and run whenever it might become necessary. This was confirmed by the fact that the Mikado had issued an order announcing that he was taking the field in person. In reply to a question as to the fate of the ex-Tycoon, Daté said it would depend on circumstances, which no one could foretell. The people of Ozaka, aware of the anti-foreign policy of the late Mikado and the former political opinions of Chôshiû, supposed that since the Court and Chôshiû had come into power, foreigners would be generally obnoxious, not any longer having the Tokugawa power to defend them; that was the reason of the populace having wrecked the various legations. Perhaps the Bizen people had been actuated by the same notions. This last suggestion furnished an additional ground for our refusing to reduce the capital sentence.
By this time M. Roches had come back to Kôbé, to the great annoyance of his colleagues, who considered that he had played a trick on them in leaving his secretary here as Chargé d' Affaires, in order that he might not be unrepresented, and at the same time playing the part of French Minister in Yedo.
It did not cause us, that is Mitford and myself, much surprise when in the afternoon of the next day Godai and Itô came to ask for the life of Taki Zenzaburô, the retainer of Hiki Tatéwaki, who had been condemned to perform harakiri as the penalty for ordering his soldiers to fire on foreigners. A long discussion took place between the foreign ministers which lasted for nearly three hours, in which Sir Harry voted for clemency, but the majority were for the sentence being carried out. It was half-past eight o'clock in the evening when Godai and Itô were called back into the room and told in a few words that there was no way but to let the law take its course. So we started at nine o'clock, Mitford and myself, with a single representative of each of the other legations. We were guided to the Buddhist temple of Sei-fuku-ji at Hiôgo, arriving there at a quarter to ten. Strong guards were posted in the courtyard and in the ante-chambers. We were shown into a room, where we had to squat on the matted floor for about three-quarters of an hour; during this interval we were asked whether we had any questions to put to the condemned man, and also for a list of our names. At half-past ten we were conducted into the principal hall of the temple, and asked to sit down on the right hand side of the dais in front of the altar. Then the seven Japanese witnesses, Itô, Nakashima Sakutarô, two Satsuma captains of infantry, two Chôshiû captains, and a Bizen o-metsuké took their places. After we had sat quietly thus for about ten minutes footsteps were heard approaching along the verandah. The condemned man, a tall Japanese of gentleman-like bearing and aspect, entered on the left side, accompanied by his kai-shaku or best men, and followed by two others, apparently holding the same office. Taki was dressed in blue kami-shimo of hempen cloth; the kai-shaku wore war surcoats (jimbaori). Coming before the Japanese witnesses they prostrated themselves, the bow being returned, and then the same ceremony was exchanged with us. Then the condemned man was led to a red sheet of felt-cloth laid on the dais before the altar; on this he squatted, after performing two bows, one at a distance, the other close to the altar. With the calmest deliberation he took his seat on the red felt, choosing the position which would afford him the greatest convenience for falling forward. A man dressed in black with a light grey hempen mantle then brought in the dirk wrapped in paper on a small unpainted wooden stand, and with a bow placed it in front of him. He took it up in both hands, raised it to his forehead and laid it down again with a bow. This is the ordinary Japanese gesture of thankful reception of a gift. Then in a distinct voice, very much broken, not by fear or emotion, but as it seemed reluctance to acknowledge an act of which he was ashamed—declared that he alone was the person who on the fourth of February had outrageously at Kôbé ordered fire to be opened on foreigners as they were trying to escape, that for having committed this offence he was going to rip up his bowels, and requested all present to be witnesses. He next divested himself of his upper garments by withdrawing his arms from the sleeves, the long ends of which he tucked under his legs to prevent his body from falling backward. The body was thus quite naked to below the navel. He then took the dirk in his right hand, grasping it just close to the point, and after stroking down the front of his chest and belly inserted the point as far down as possible and drew it across to the right side, the position of his clothes still fastened by the girth preventing our seeing the wound. Having done this he with great deliberation bent his body forward, throwing the head back so as to render the neck a fair object for the sword. The one kai-shaku who had accompanied him round the two rows of witnesses to make his bows to them, had been crouching on his left hand a little behind him with drawn sword poised in the air from the moment the operation commenced. He now sprang up suddenly and delivered a blow the sound of which was like thunder. The head dropped down on to the matted floor, and the body lurching forward fell prostrate over it, the blood from the arteries pouring out and forming a pool. When the blood vessels had spent themselves all was over. The little wooden stand and the dirk were removed. Itô came forward with a bow, asking had we been witnesses; we replied that we had. He was followed by Nakashima, who also made a bow. A few minutes elapsed, and we were asked were we ready to leave. We rose and went out, passing in front of the corpse and through the Japanese witnesses. It was twelve o'clock when we got back to the consulate, where we found Sir Harry waiting up to receive our report.
The newspaper reports which reached England of this execution, and of the subsequent execution by harakiri of eleven Tosa men at Sakai gave a very distorted view of the facts. Charles Rickerby who was the owner and editor of "The Japan Times" of Yokohama was responsible for the attempts to mislead public opinion in both instances. He invented an account of the proceedings witnessed by Mitford and myself which was entirely false, and wound up by saying that it was disgraceful for Christians to have attended the execution, and that he hoped the Japanese, if they took revenge for this "judicial murder" would assassinate gentlemen of the foreign Legations rather than anyone else. As for being ashamed of having been present at a harakiri on the ground that it was a disgusting exhibition, I was proud to feel that I had not shrunk from witnessing a punishment which I did my best to bring about. It was no disgusting exhibition, but a most decent and decorous ceremony, and far more respectable than what our own countrymen were in the habit of producing for the entertainment of the public in the front of Newgate prison. The countrymen of this Bizen man told us that they considered the sentence a just and beneficial one. As regards the case of the Tosa men at Sakai, no punishment was ever more righteously inflicted. These Japanese massacred a boat's crew of inoffensive and unarmed men, who were never alleged to have given the slightest provocation. Twenty were condemned to death, and one could only regret that Captain du Petit Thouars judged it necessary to stop the execution when eleven had suffered, for the twenty were all equally guilty, and requiring a life for life of the eleven Frenchmen looked more like revenge than justice.