Makers of Japan

by J. Morris

To fully appreciate the risk that Sakuma ran in putting forward proposals so entirely subversive of the existing order of things, it must be brought to mind for an instant that early in the seventeenth century of the Christian era, at a time when the over-sea trade of Japan had attained to some importance, the Tokugawa Government sternly suppressed all trade with foreign nations on account of the attempts of the Jesuit missionaries, it was said, to obtain for their order that political influence in Japan that they had succeeded in securing at the time in China. The construction of large vessels was prohibited under very severe penalties, and a maritime trade that bade fair to prove eminently advantageous to Japan was strangled at the outset. As far as can be gleaned from the records of that period, Japan had in 1620 about 200 ocean-going ships, fit to brave the storms that were usually to be encountered in the course of a voyage to India, Mexico, or the islands of the South Seas, where the Japanese flag was in those days by no means rarely to be seen. The order that thenceforward Japanese ships were to have but one mast struck at the root of naval expansion, and Japan was still suffering the consequences of this drastic regulation when Sakuma penned his remarkable essay on needed measures of defence.

When his feudal chief, at a later date, returned to his own province Sakuma went back also, being no longer in the employ of the Shogun, though of course the clan administration was still conducted in full accord with the prevailing system, under which the Shogun, as the Emperor’s deputy, managed the nation’s secular affairs and controlled its foreign policy. It was not long, however, before Sakuma was again in Yedo, this time occupying himself in teaching Dutch, of which he had acquired a competent knowledge, to a group of pupils whose ideas tended to coincide with his own. It was at this period that he wished to publish a Dutch-Japanese dictionary, but the Shogun’s officials, so strict were still the laws on this point, could not grant the desired permission. And in the fifth year of the Ka-yei era, corresponding to 1852, the year before Commodore Perry made his appearance off the shores of Idzu province, Sakuma sought to issue a handbook on gunnery, but this right was likewise denied him. The work was entirely from his own pen, and it is to be regretted that it has not, so far as is known, been translated.

The next year eight American warships arrived at the little bay of Uraga, close to the entrance of the gulf of Yedo, and it was freely stated that they had brought a message to the effect that unless the Japanese were prepared to open their ports to trade with all nations these “black ships” would find their way to Yedo itself and bombard the castle of the Shogun. The prospect filled the minds of the people of the locality with horror. Japan had no naval or military strength to oppose to these invaders. It was mournfully recognised that the coast forts then in existence had no armaments that would enable them for an instant to cope with the powerful guns on board the American ships. Japan had in secluding herself failed to keep pace with the march of progress, and was wholly at the mercy of the powers of the Occident. China had had, as in Japan they well knew, to endure in 1841 the intrusion of foreign troops, and the forcible entry of Western vessels into the waters of the Yang-tse-kiang, and now Japan, though she had secluded herself for centuries from the unwelcome attentions of foreign nations, was destined to undergo, as it seemed, the forcible encroachment on her dominions of Western barbarians with whom she had no sort of sympathy, and whose acquaintance she had absolutely no desire whatever to make.

Sakuma was stirred to action. Mounting his horse, he set off alone to Uraga, riding at full speed, resolved to see for himself, as a first step, what manner of men these visitors were, and to gather, if he could, from their attitude to the local inhabitants, what were the real intentions of the intruders. He saw sufficient, as he judged, to form an opinion, and speedily returned to Yedo in order that he might make a report to his feudal chief, who was then staying in the capital. Soon afterwards Sakuma was appointed a member of the general staff, and given the command of the military forces. While enjoying the opportunities which his position afforded him, he frequently at this period advocated the adoption of a new and more complete system of training, as being requisite if Japan desired not merely to protect herself from the aggression of those foreign powers which had already worked their will upon China, but to be in a position some day to choose her own friends should a recourse to Occidental methods suggest itself as politically advantageous to his countrymen. But his aspirations met with no favourable response at headquarters. His ideas were pronounced to be crude and altogether needlessly alarmist in their tendency. He was compelled, therefore, to bury his hopes for the time being, trusting that in the chapter of accidents something might arise to add force to his own respectful but solemn warnings of the danger of delay.

The following year, being the first of An-Sei era,—at this time it was the custom in Japan to change the name of the era to commemorate some auspicious or notable event, irrespective of the sovereign’s reign, but now the eras are co-extensive with the monarch’s tenure of the throne—the American cruisers reappeared at Uraga, having as arranged on their previous visit, returned to receive an answer to President Fillmore’s despatch, in which he had saluted the ruler of Japan with obvious good will and had expressed with a heartiness that could not be misinterpreted America’s wish to be on cordial terms with the subjects of the Ten-shi. On this occasion the squadron of Commodore Perry permitted itself the freedom of entering the Bay of Yedo, an act that came perilously near wrecking the negotiations altogether. As it was, the Tokugawa Government directed two prominent dai-mios, the feudal barons of Kokura and Matsushiro respectively, to prepare for the defence of the approaches to the Sho-gun’s chief city. Kokura is a castle town in the straits of Shimonoseki, afterwards so famous for a fierce fight between the combined foreign squadrons and the forts of the dai-mio of Choshiu province, facing the Buzen province to which Kokura belongs, and Matsushiro is in the Shinano province, and was the place of Sakuma’s birth, and the seat of that feudal chief to whom he owed allegiance. It is situated west-north-west of the Japanese metropolis, towards the west coast, close to that mighty river the Shinano, which there pours its waters into the Sea of Japan. By his chieftain Sakuma was immediately directed to attend and advise the military council, and from that time forth he so ardently devoted himself to the elaboration of a scheme of defence as to allow himself no proper time, it is said, for rest, night or day, until he had completed his task. A week after the advent for a second time of the American warships in Uraga Bay Sakuma took up his position in the vicinity of what is now Yokohama in command of his small force, all being resolved to prevent, as far as their limited powers would permit them to do, the landing of what were then regarded as hostile visitors.

The Tokugawa government had it in mind at that time to open the port of Shimoda to foreign trade in response to the American proposal, the situation of this place, near the extremity of the peninsula of Idzu, and bathed by the waves of the Pacific, being such as to afford reasonable security from too close intimacy with the strangers. But Sakuma was averse to this, on the ground that Shimoda was strategically far too valuable to be relinquished for the purposes of trade, and the free entry and egress of aliens and their ships, and he suggested instead the opening of a trading centre at some spot within the bay of Yedo, not wholly, it may be surmised, without an eye to the practicability of closing the entrance to the bay, should such a course become necessary, by fortifications at Kannon-saki. Ultimately Kanagawa was selected as the port to be opened, the actual site for the foreign settlement being laid out at the village of Yokohama, the “beach over the way,” as its name implies, from the town of Kanagawa. Parenthetically it may be mentioned that as long as the Treaties with foreign powers remained in force Kanagawa was the official designation of the port commonly known as Yokohama. The result of Sakuma’s remonstrances was that the opening of Shimoda was postponed sine die, and Kanagawa was finally chosen to be the first of the ports at which foreign trade and intercourse should be allowed.

In 1851, three years before the treaty of peace and amity with the United States of America was concluded, Sakuma had received into his entire friendship one who was like himself to occupy a niche in the annals of his country. This was Yoshida Torajiro, better known now by his literary name of Sho-in. Yoshida, as Sakuma’s pupil, had become imbued with his mentor’s ideas on the subject of national defence, and acting on Sakuma’s suggestion, which was that every man ought to examine for himself how other countries provided for their own security from attack, Yoshida endeavoured to procure a passage in an American warship, though it was at that time against the law for a Japanese to quit his native land, and in this endeavour he was supported by the conviction that Sakuma approved of his plan, but unfortunately the attempt was foredoomed to failure, as Commodore Perry would not countenance a breach of Japanese law. Sakuma perceived that Yoshida contemplated running the risk of detection, with the object of seeing for himself the condition of people under an enlightened government, and gaining experience which should fit him to continue the good work which the elder man had begun, and the pupil received at the hands of his master a treasured letter stimulating him to yet greater efforts in his search for knowledge, and designed to comfort him amid the inevitable trials and difficulties of the career that he had mapped out for himself. That composition was to be historic, for it decided the fate of Sakuma too, but it shows the clearsightedness of its writer, and it was subsequently an incentive to many to prove constant amid the storm and stress of a period of transition and revolution. An attempt is here made to translate Sakuma’s stirring exhortation into English, but the result is by no means satisfactory, for it is very difficult, if not impossible, to reproduce faithfully the force of the original.

Rendered into English it might perhaps be read as:—

“He has journeyed a thousand leagues, and though he has not yet disclosed to me the trend of his thoughts, I perceive that he is meditating some exploit out of the ordinary. As I watch him move away from my cottage gate I see in fancy a solitary stork outstretched on the wing in the autumn sky. The ocean lies beneath, and the five continents seem to be the bird’s close neighbours. So in a tour of the globe one takes in the situation at a glance, and the benefit exceeds that of a hundred lectures. An intelligent person would not fail to profit hugely by the opportunities presented of acquiring expansive views of men and things. Unless a man achieves something wonderful in life he cannot hope to bear a high reputation after his death.”