It will be convenient to consider separately the foreign policy which was gradually evolved after the transformation of Japan that followed the Mikado’s resumption of actual power. Scarcely had the Shiogoon been overthrown than the desire of conquest and expansion was reawakened. Representatives of the advanced school of Japanese ideas presently maintained that the national jurisdiction should include not only Yezo, Saghalien and the Bonin islands, but also Corea and the eastern part of Formosa, the last claim being based upon settlements made by the Japanese. The Bonin islands, first occupied by Ogasawara, a Daimio, in 1593, and visited by a party of explorers from Nagasaki in 1675, had been neglected by the Japanese for centuries, though long a noted resort of whalers. In 1878, the islands were formally reoccupied in the name of the Mikado, and a local government established by Japanese officers. Saghalien and the Kurile islands had been a debatable ground between the Japanese and the Russians since 1790, and had been the scene of a good deal of bloodshed. In 1875, Admiral Enomoto concluded at St. Petersburg a convention by which Russia received the whole of Saghalien, while Japan obtained all the Kurile islands. The large island of Yezo was administered by a special department until the year 1882, when it was divided into three ken, or prefectures, which are governed like the rest of the empire. Let us glance, next, at Japan’s assumption of sovereignty over the little island kingdom of Riu Kiu, or Loo Choo, an assumption which subjected the relations between China and Japan to severe tension. These islands are strung like a long thread between Japan and Formosa. For many centuries, these islanders sent tribute to both China and Japan. Toward the close of the sixteenth century, Hideyoshi demanded that they should pay tribute to Japan alone; but he never enforced his demands. In 1609, Iyehisa, the Daimio of Satsuma, conquered the islands, and made their chiefs swear allegiance to his house and to the Shiogoon. Between 1611 and 1850, no fewer than fifteen embassies from Riu Kiu visited Yedo to obtain investiture for the island king, or to congratulate a Shiogoon upon his accession to power. The same policy, however, was pursued toward China also. After the revolution of 1868 the Loo Choo islands were made a dependency of the Japanese empire, and the king acknowledged the Mikado for his suzerain. Some five years later, the Japanese reduced the king to the status of a retired Daimio, and transformed Riu Kiu into a ken, or prefecture. To this the islanders objected, and continued to send a tribute-junk to Ningpo, and implored China’s interposition. The Pekin government, on its part, considered that Japan, by its annexation of the Loo Choo islands, had wrongfully cut off a fringe of the robe of the Middle Kingdom.
Let us now glance at Japan’s connection with Formosa, before examining, somewhat in detail, her much more important relations to Corea. It was toward the end of 1873 that a Loo Choo junk was wrecked on the eastern shore of Formosa; the crew were killed by the savage inhabitants of that region, and, as it was reported, eaten. The Loo Choo islanders appealed to their hereditary suzerain at Satsuma, who referred the matter to Tokio. As it happened, China laid no claim to the eastern part of Formosa, and no trace of it appeared on the maps of the Middle Kingdom. In the spring of 1874, the Mikado dispatched Soyejima as Embassador to Pekin, and his representative there obtained an audience with the Chinese Emperor. The Tsungli Yamen disclaimed responsibility for eastern Formosa, and conceded the right of Japan to chastise the savages there. While Soyejima was absent in China, a Japanese junk was wrecked in Formosa, and its crew were stripped and plundered. On the return of the Embassy, 1,300 Japanese soldiers, under the command of Saigo Yorimichi, were ordered to avenge the outrage, and, after a few skirmishes with savages, they proceeded to occupy the eastern part of Formosa. There they built roads, organized camps, and directed fortifications in accordance with the principles of modern engineering and military art. Incited, it is said, by foreign influence, the Chinese government now began to urge its claims upon the whole of Formosa, and to denounce the Japanese as intruders. For a time war seemed inevitable, but the result of the negotiations, intrusted to Okubo, who was sent to Pekin, was that the Chinese paid an indemnity of $700,000, and the Japanese evacuated the island. The abortive expedition had cost Japan $5,000,000 and seven hundred lives.
Japan’s relations with Corea were to have much more momentous consequences. During the Tokungawa period, the so-called Hermit Kingdom had sent regularly embassies conveying homage to Japan; but, not relishing the change which the latter country underwent in 1868, disgusted at the departure of the Mikado’s government from traditional ideals, and emboldened by the failure of the French and American expeditions against her own territory, Corea sent to Tokio insulting letters, in which she taunted Japan with slavish truckling to the foreign barbarians, and declared herself an enemy. This incident, which took place in 1872, rendered the project of a war with Corea extremely popular in the Japanese army and navy. Some years, however, were to elapse before an armed contest took place between the two countries. In 1875, Mr. Arinori Mori was dispatched to Pekin, and Kuroda Kiyotaka, at the head of some men-of-war, entered Corean waters. The twofold diplomatic and naval demonstration was crowned with success. A treaty of peace, friendship and commerce was concluded between Japan and Corea on February 27, 1876. In pursuance of this treaty, Japan, in 1876, secured the opening of the port of Fushan to her trade, as compensation for an outrage perpetrated on some of her sailors. In 1880, Chemulpo, the port of Seoul, the Corean capital, was also thrown open to Japanese commerce. The activity of the Japanese gave umbrage to the court of Pekin, and, in 1881, a draft commercial treaty was drawn up by the Chinese authorities, in conjunction with the representatives of the principal Western powers at the Chinese capital, and carried to Seoul for acceptance by the American naval officer, Commodore Schufeldt. The treaty, being recommended by China, was, naturally, accepted by Corea. When the Japanese, however, observed that the Chinese were putting forward a pretension to control exclusively the destinies of the Hermit Kingdom, they determined to assert their old claim to an equal voice with China in the Corean peninsula. They allied themselves with the so-called progressive party in Corea, and thus forced China to link her fortunes with the reactionists.
Except among the reformers, who constituted but a weak minority of the Corean population, the Japanese were far from popular in the Hermit Kingdom, and, in June, 1882, the reactionists attacked the Japanese Legation, murdered some of its inmates and compelled the survivors to flee. Thereupon, the Japanese sent a force to exact reparation, while the Chinese, on their part, sent a force to restore order. A temporary accommodation was effected, but, for two years, Chinese and Japanese soldiers remained close to one another under the walls of Seoul. In December, 1884, a second collision occurred between the Japanese and Coreans, the latter being aided this time by the Chinese. The first named were compelled to flee. The Tokio government obtained reparation for this fresh outrage, but, not satisfied therewith, it dispatched Count Ito to Pekin to bring about some permanent arrangement. There is no doubt that, at this time, the Chinese occupied a much stronger position in Corea than did the Mikado’s subjects, but the advantage was thrown away by an agreement which tied China’s hands and had far-reaching consequences.
Li Hung Chang was appointed Plenipotentiary to negotiate with Count Ito, and a convention was signed by them at Tientsin, on April 18, 1885. It provided, first, that both countries should recall their troops from Corea; secondly, that no more officers should be sent by either country to drill Corean soldiers; and, thirdly, that if, at any future time, either of the parties to the convention should decide to send a force to Corea, it must straightway inform the other. By this compact, China acknowledged that Japan’s right to control Corea was on a level with her own, and it was henceforth unreasonable for the Pekin authorities to speak of Corea as a vassal State. For nine years after the conclusion of the Tientsin Convention, peace prevailed in the Hermit Kingdom. In the spring of 1894, however, the Tong Haks, a body of religious reformers, broke into open rebellion, and, toward the end of May, obtained a considerable success over the troops of the Corean Government. China was at once requested to dispatch a force to save the capital, and, by the 10th of June, 2,000 Chinese soldiers were encamped at Asan, a port some distance to the south of Seoul. A few Chinese men-of-war were also ordered to cruise off the Corean coasts. In pursuance of the terms of the Tientsin Convention, notification of the dispatch of these forces to Corea was given to the Tokio government, which, having had equal rights conceded to it, was resolved to exercise them with promptitude and vigor. Within forty-eight hours after the arrival of the Chinese at Asan, the Japanese had placed a far superior number of soldiers at Seoul, and of ships at Chemulpo. They thus secured complete possession of the capital and of the court, although both had been in thorough sympathy with China. To avert an insurrection in Seoul, it was thought needful to secure the person of the King of Corea, and his palace was, accordingly, captured by the Japanese, and the ruler of the peninsula converted into their tool or ally. He was, forthwith, required to put his seal to a document ordering the Chinese troops, who had come at his invitation, to leave the country. This seizure of the King’s person took place on July 23, 1894. Two days later, the Japanese squadron attacked the transport “Kowshing” and some armed vessels which were convoying it. In the ensuing engagement, one Chinese man-of-war was sunk, one was disabled, and 1,200 soldiers went down with the “Kowshing.” On the same day, the Japanese General Oshima left Seoul with a small force to attack the Chinese camp, which had been transferred from Asan to Song-hwan, a strongly fortified position. The place was carried on July 29 by a night surprise with a loss to the Chinese of 500 killed and wounded; the remainder of the force then retreated to Pingyang, a town north of Seoul, on the main road to China. These encounters were followed by a reciprocal declaration of war between China and Japan on August 1, 1894. There ensued a lull in hostilities, during which Japan poured her troops into Corea, while the Chinese fleet remained inactive in the harbors of Wei-hai-Wei and Port Arthur. About the beginning of September, a Japanese force of 13,000 men under General Nodzu was ordered to attack the strong position occupied by the Chinese at Pingyang. The assault was delivered on May 15, and the Chinese were compelled to retreat with a loss of 2,000 killed, in addition to the wounded and prisoners. The sturdiness of the defense at certain points was attested by the fact that the victors themselves lost 633 killed, wounded and missing. The capture of Pingyang resulted in the Chinese evacuation of Corea.
While the fighting was taking place on land at Pingyang, the Chinese fleet, under the command of Admiral Ting, was conveying troops to the mouth of the Yalu River, the northwestern boundary of Corea, where the Chinese were collecting a second army. Returning from the fulfillment of this task, the fleet was encountered off the island of Hai Yang on September 17, by a Japanese squadron under Admiral Ito. The naval combatants were nearly equal in strength, each numbering ten war vessels; two of the Chinese ships, however, were superior in armament. The result of the action was that five of the Chinese torpedo-boats were destroyed, and the total loss of the Chinese in killed and wounded was 1,000, while that of the Japanese was but 265.
The Japanese, having been re-enforced by a considerable body of soldiers under Marshal Yamagata, began their forward movement from Pingyang early in October, 1894, and on the 10th of the month reached the Yalu, where they found a considerable Chinese army posted on the northern bank of the river. After a merely nominal resistance, however, the Chinese officers and soldiers abandoned their fortifications on October 25 and 26, thus allowing the Japanese to capture an enormous quantity of war materials, including seventy-four cannon, over 4,000 rifles and more than 4,000,000 rounds of ammunition. While Marshal Yamagata was forcing the passage of the Yalu, another Japanese army under Marshal Oyama had landed on the Liau-tung, or Regent’s Sword peninsula, with the view of assailing the great naval station of Port Arthur. The natural and artificial strength of this place was great; over 300 guns were in position, and the garrison numbered at least 10,000 men, while the assailants did not exceed 13,000, although, of course, they were materially aided by their fleet. Having landed at the mouth of the Hua-yuan River, about 100 miles north of Port Arthur, the Japanese pushed southward and captured the well-fortified city of Chinchow without losing a man. On the next day, they had a similar experience at Talien-wan, where they found over 120 cannon, 2,500,000 rounds of artillery ammunition, and nearly 34,000,000 rifle cartridges. On November 22, 1894, the Japanese army and fleet made a concerted attack upon Port Arthur, and, with the loss of eighteen men killed and 250 wounded, gained possession of a naval stronghold on which $20,000,000 had been spent. During the following month of December, the force under Marshal Yamagata advanced into Manchuria, but here they were confronted by a fresh Chinese army, which had been assembled to defend Mukden, the old Manchu capital, and which evinced a good deal of courage. In one fight at Kangwasai, the Japanese experienced a loss of 400 men, and the subsequent capture of Kaiping cost them 300 killed and wounded. About the middle of January, 1895, the energies of the Japanese were turned against the naval fortress of Wei-hai-Wei, which is situated on the northern coast of Shantung, opposite Port Arthur, and constitutes, with the last-named place, the keys of the Gulf of Pechili. After landing, on January 20, at Yungchang, a little west of the place to be attacked, the Japanese, six days later, appeared at the gates of Wei-hai-Wei. The place was defended not only by a semicircular line of forts and batteries and two fortified islands in the bay, but also by the Chinese fleet under Admiral Ting, which comprised nine large vessels, besides six small gunboats and seven large and four small torpedo-boats. The attack began on January 29, and continued for three weeks; nor would Admiral Ting, even then, have consented to surrender, had he not received a telegraphed message from Li Hung Chang to the effect that no help need be looked for. After the terms of surrender were agreed upon, the Chinese admiral committed suicide. After the fall of Wei-hai-Wei, the Japanese in Manchuria continued their advance, and captured the twin city of Newchang, thus placing themselves between Mukden and the Chinese capital. When spring was about to open, they possessed an army of 100,000 men, ready to move upon Pekin, and there is no doubt that they could have taken the city speedily and easily. Two months previously, the Chinese had sent to Tokio a pretended peace mission with inadequate powers, but now the Pekin government, recognizing the impossibility of resistance, appointed Li Hung Chang plenipotentiary, and dispatched him to Shimonoseki, which he reached on March 20, 1895. Luckily for the success of his mission, he was shot in the cheek by a fanatic four days after his arrival, while he was returning from a conference with Count Ito, the representative of Japan. This outrage aroused great sympathy for Li Hung Chang, and, to prove the sincerity of his regret, the Mikado consented to an armistice, and sensibly modified the terms of peace upon which he had originally insisted. On April 17, 1895, the Treaty of Shimonoseki was signed, and, on May 8, the ratifications were exchanged at Chefoo. The provisions of the treaty may be briefly summed up as follows: The Chinese were to surrender the islands of Formosa and the Pescadores, and also, on the Asiatic mainland, the southern part of the province of Shingking, including the Regent’s Sword peninsula, and, of course, the naval fortress of Port Arthur. By way of pecuniary indemnity, China was to pay 200,000,000 Kuping taels, or, say, $170,000,000, in eight installments, with interest at the rate of five per cent on those unpaid. The commercial concessions were to include the admission of ships under the Japanese flag to the different rivers and lakes of China and the appointment of consuls; and the Japanese were to retain Wei-hai-Wei until the whole indemnity had been paid and an acceptable commercial treaty had been concluded. These terms were by no means excessive, in view of the completeness of the Japanese triumph, but they gave great umbrage to Russia, which foresaw that the presence of the Japanese on the Regent’s Sword peninsula would prove an obstacle to its plans of southward extension through Manchuria, and to the attainment of an ice-free port. Moreover, had the Japanese been suffered to remain on the mainland of Asia, they, instead of the Russians, would have become preponderant at Pekin. Accordingly, the Czar’s advisers, having secured the co-operation not only of their French ally, but also of Germany, proceeded to make a diplomatic move, the aim of which was to despoil the Mikado of a part of the fruits of victory. Scarcely was the ink dry on the Treaty of Shimonoseki, when Japan received from the three European powers just named a polite request, which veiled, of course, a threat, that she should waive that part of the Shimonoseki Treaty which provided for the cession of Port Arthur and the Liau-tung peninsula. Japan would doubtless have repelled the demand, had she been assured of Great Britain’s support. But no assurance to that effect was forthcoming from Lord Rosebery, then British Prime Minister, and, accordingly, the Mikado consented to resign his claim to the Liau-tung peninsula for the additional indemnity of $30,000,000. The final installment of the indemnity was paid in May, 1898, whereupon Wei-hai-Wei was evacuated by the Japanese, and, soon afterward, was ceded by the Pekin government to Great Britain.
Since the compulsory revision of the Shimonoseki Treaty, the attitude of the Tokio Foreign Office has been marked by much reserve and dignity. Japan has employed the years that have since elapsed, and the money received from China, in prosecuting extensive military and naval reforms. Nor is the time distant when, with the warships built at home or purchased in foreign shipyards, she will have a navy only second to that possessed by Great Britain in the Far East, and will be able to place half a million thoroughly trained and equipped soldiers on the mainland of Asia. In Corea, she has obtained increased freedom of action, Russia having practically waived her claims to ascendency in that country; Japan has turned the opportunity to account by building a railway from Chemulpo to Seoul, which should materially help her to maintain control of the Hermit Kingdom. Whatever may be the Mikado’s ultimate intention, he has, as yet, given no conclusive proof of a wish to participate in the game of partition now being played in China. No protest came from him when, toward the close of 1897, Germany seized the harbor of Kiao Chou, or when, on March 27, 1898, a convention signed at Pekin gave the Russians the usufruct of Port Arthur and Talien-wan. In September, however, the Marquis (formerly Count) Ito was dispatched as a special embassador to the Chinese capital, for the purpose, as it is believed, but not positively known, of arranging an alliance between the Japanese and Chinese empires, which should put an effectual stop to further encroachments on the part of Russia. Then occurred the palace revolution at Pekin, whereby the young Emperor Kwangsu was virtually dethroned, and the supreme authority usurped by the Empress Dowager, Tsi An. There being, thenceforward, no hope of effecting the desired arrangement, the Marquis Ito returned to Japan, soon after which—namely, on October 31—the homogeneous Ministry which had taken office in June of this year—the first Ministry of the kind, by the way, since the establishment of the Constitution in 1889—was compelled to resign, and was succeeded by an eclectic cabinet even more thoroughly representative of the Japanese desire to play a great rôle in the Far East. On November 6, an envoy deputed by the Mikado to present certain gifts to the Chinese Emperor insisted upon obtaining an audience, and thus succeeded in discovering that the unfortunate Kwangsu was still living.
It remains to note that the Tokio Foreign Office has at last succeeded in inducing the principal Western powers to abolish the exterritoriality clauses in their respective treaties, whereby their subjects were exempted from the jurisdiction of the Japanese tribunals. With the disappearance of these clauses, which are still exacted not only in the case of China, Siam, Persia and Morocco, but also in the case of Turkey and Egypt, the Mikado’s empire may be said to have taken a recognized place among highly civilized nations.