FIRST VISIT TO OZAKA On reaching Yokohama on the 15th January 1867, I duly made my report to the chief of all I had seen, heard, and said, and took up my quarters on the following day at Yedo. The first news I learnt was that the ShÔgun had invited all the foreign representatives to meet him at Ozaka, and that they would probably accept. His object, it was explained, was to break through all the traditions of the past eight years and to make the treaties of friendship which had been concluded by Japan with foreign countries more of a reality than they had hitherto been. But Sir Harry, who had now learnt enough of the internal political condition to convince him that the ShÔgun's power was fast decaying, still hesitated, and it was only when he found a majority of his colleagues determined to go, that he made up his mind to join them. But he persuaded them that it would be well to have inquiries made beforehand as to the kind of accommodation that would be provided, and consequently deputed Mitford and myself to proceed thither in the "Argus." We were joined by Captain Cardew of the 2/ix, and reached HiÔgo on the 9th of February, after a two days' run. A couple of subordinate officials of the ShÔgun's foreign department had accompanied us to make the necessary arrangements, and were landed at once to provide for our going to Ozaka without loss of time. We determined to go by land. The "Princess Royal," "Basilisk," "Serpent," and "Firm" were in port, having just arrived from visiting the Princes of Chikuzen at Fukuoka, and the Princes of ChÔshiÛ at Mitajiri. Lord Walter Kerr of the "Princess Royal" kindly gave me photographs of the four nobles and of two of the leading councillors of ChÔshiÛ, which are here reproduced. Among them will be recognized Katsura KogorÔ, already mentioned. On board the "Princess Royal" I met some native traders, who were greatly interested in the approaching opening of the port, and discussed various suitable sites for a foreign Noguchi and my boy Yasu turned up here, having been forwarded from Uwajima. They were full of excuses, which were readily admitted. We got away on the morning of the 11th, and Lieutenant Thalbitzer, a Danish officer from the "Argus," having joined us, we were a party of four. Ponies had been provided by the Japanese authorities, and we had an escort of nine men armed with swords from the corps which supplied the guards of the foreign legations at Yedo. Our steeds were small, ill-fed, and untrained, but each had a splendid running footman attached to it, who kept up the pace in magnificent style. Troops had been posted along the road for our protection, and the whole number thus detailed cannot have been less than 1500. This gave us a novel and somewhat embarrassing sense of importance. The road is perfectly flat the whole way, and fairly straight until it approaches Ozaka, when it begins to make zig-zags which lengthened it unnecessarily. This plan was formerly adopted nearly all over Japan in the vicinity of daimiÔs' towns for strategical purposes. As the roads nearly always run through the swampy rice fields, a hostile force is unable to march straight at its point of attack, but must follow the road, being thus constantly exposed to a flank fire from the defending force occupying the other arm of the angle ahead. Preparations had been made by the officials for our accommodation to the best of their ability. After washing off the dust of our long ride in a comfortable bathroom, we sat down to a dinner served in imitation of western fashion, with French wines, including an excellent bottle of Larose. Alas, it was the only one. The seats, however, were mere four-legged wooden stools, and I suffered a good deal from them during our stay. Afterwards we inspected the bedrooms. The bedsteads were mere makeshifts, but there was a plentiful supply of bedding, consisting of cotton quilts and stuffed silk coverlets. The toilet service was made up of two ludicrously small basins and, underneath the toilet table, a huge water pot; at the side were a cake of almond soap and a bottle of eau-de-cologne. But what seemed especially unusual was the deference of manner and language exhibited by all the officials with whom we came in contact. Hitherto I had experienced only familiarity approaching to rudeness at the hands of government officers. Our next visitor was Yoshii KÔsukÉ, whom I have already mentioned. He reminded me that we had met at HiÔgo in the autumn of 1865 on board the steamer, when I had also seen SaigÔ for the first time. Yoshii was a little man, very vivacious and talked with a perfect Satsuma brogue. Every day we spent the greater part of our time in sight-seeing, and the officials proved obliging in every way. We had only to express a wish and it was immediately gratified. In a day or two we got Komatsu and Yoshii to tiffin. The former was one of the most charming Japanese I have known, a KarÔ by birth, but unlike most of that class, distinguished for his political ability, excellent manners, and a genial companion. He had a fairer complexion than most, but his large mouth prevented his being good-looking. They partook heartily of pÂte de foie gras and pale ale, and at last became so merry that we feared they might make indiscreet revelations in the presence of the Tokugawa servants who crowded the house. On the next day Mitford and I returned their visit at the Satsuma Kura-yashiki, or produce agency, near the river bank. Yoshii received us at the door, and ushered us into a room where we found Komatsu, the agent and Matsuki KÔwan; the latter was one of the two prisoners taken by us in 1863, and I had some suspicion that he was not altogether to be trusted, as he was reported to have been in the Tycoon's service during the interval. So after the exchange of compliments Affairs being in a critical condition, it was probable that The conversation had now lasted so long that we thought it best to break off, for fear of exciting suspicion, and we returned to the other room, where a capital Japanese luncheon was spread out. To my great surprise we were joined by InouyÉ Bunda, whom I had not seen since the bombardment of ShimonosÉki. His face was now disfigured by a huge scar, the vestige of one of several wounds which he had received in the course of a party fight down in ChÔshiÛ. He said his people had now got the steam up and would like to give the ShÔgun another thrashing. He brought a message from the prince to Sir Harry inviting him to visit the province at the earliest opportunity. When Sir Harry last passed through ShimonosÉki, he said, the French Minister was there, and that accident had prevented an intended interview. The Satsuma people expressed the hope that Mitford and I would visit Kagoshima as soon as possible. We had a discussion with Shibata HiÛga no Kami, one of the Commissioners for Foreign Affairs, about Sir Harry's public entry into Ozaka, and settled all the details quietly and amicably. But when we came to the ceremony of presentation to the ShÔgun some difficulties cropped up. He wanted the British Minister to make his bow outside the room in which the ShÔgun would be, and we could not allow this. Our object was to insist on the forms being as like those of European courts as possible. Group Photographed during a Visit to Ozaka Yasu. Noguchi. Akum. Mitford. Linfu. Satow. Cardew. Thalbitzer. The afternoon was spent in visiting the boats in which it was proposed to bring the British Minister and his suite to the temporary Legation, and a long weary tramp of it we had, but at last we got to the place where they would leave the men-of-wars' boats. Embarking here, we made an experimental trip ourselves, and came to the conclusion that it would not do. To begin with, the distance was very great, and poling against the stream was a slow method of progression; next, instead of showing themselves to the populace, the minister and his staff would be almost hidden from view, and would be taken through a succession of narrow, obscure, and not very clean canals, to a very short distance from their lodgings, to which they would have to proceed on foot. We found a dense crowd had collected at the landing-place to see us, although it was quite dark. We had been more than a week in the city, and the curiosity of the inhabitants seemed not a whit abated, though we had traversed the city in all directions, and not a day passed without our taking a long walk. Noguchi, who had gone with the Aidzu men to find out where the symposium was to be held, was not yet back, so reconciling ourselves to the idea that the officials had succeeded in putting it off, we sat down to a dinner of terrapin soup and boiled terrapins. In the middle of it, however, Noguchi appeared to announce that all was ready. The guard that usually dogged our steps when we went out had all retired to rest for the night, so we got away unaccompanied except by one man carrying a lantern. The streets were by this time quite deserted, and we hugged ourselves with the consciousness of an adventure. No European had yet been abroad in the streets of a Japanese city at night as a free man. We had to walk a couple of miles, and then turn down by the river till we came to a house close to the great bridge. Here we found our friends awaiting our arrival. Blankets were spread for us on the floor at the upper end of the room, while the Aidzu men sat on cushions opposite to us, a row of tall candlesticks occupying the centre. Tea was served by some very ancient females, and we began again to fear a disappointment, for the invitation had been accompanied by a promise to show us some of the most celebrated singing and dancing girls of the city. However, when the |