CHAPTER XVI

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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 settlement. They also conveyed to me the news of the Mikado's death, which had only just been made public. Rumour attributed his decease to smallpox, but several years afterwards I was assured by a Japanese well acquainted with what went on behind the scenes that he had been poisoned. He was by conviction utterly opposed to any concessions to foreigners, and had therefore been removed out of the way by those who foresaw that the coming downfall of the Baku-fu would force the court into direct relations with Western Powers. But with a reactionary Mikado nothing but difficulties, resulting probably in war, was to be expected. It is common enough in eastern countries to attribute the deaths of important personages to poison, and in the case of the last preceding ShÔgun rumours had been pretty rife that he had been made away with by Shitotsubashi. In connexion with the Mikado I certainly never heard any such suggestion at the time. But it is impossible to deny that his disappearance from the political scene, leaving as his successor a boy of fifteen or sixteen years of age, was most opportune.

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.

Soon after passing Ama-ga-saki we came in sight of the castle of Ozaka, a conspicuous object in the landscape by its shining white walls and many-storied towers, visible for many a league. At last we reached the city. Although our guides missed the route at first, and here and there a break occurred in the troops which lined the narrow streets, the crowd quietly made way for us, and stood in front of the houses without uttering a sound. At every corner there was an immense concourse, and the side-streets were filled with eager, gazing faces as far as the eye could reach. We crossed the great wooden bridge over the river which runs through the city, turned to the left along the embankment, and bending again to the right proceeded down a long, apparently interminable street until we finally reached our lodgings at the Hon-gaku-In monastery. Here we found some officials of the foreign department, and received calls from a few of the local functionaries. Everything had been done to make us comfortable, and the locality was the best that could have been selected. It was impossible to avoid contrasting this generous hospitality with the reluctant, almost hostile, reception accorded to us on the occasion of our visit in 1865. The times had evidently changed since the accession of the new ShÔgun, and the recent death of the Mikado did not appear to have made any difference in his plans and intentions for the carrying-out of a conciliatory policy.

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.

On the following morning we were visited by Suzuki, an official of the Uwajima clan, who came with a message from the resident KarÔ to beg that we would not visit them at their yashiki, but at the same time he managed to convey the contrary impression. I sent Noguchi to the Satsuma yashiki to invite Komatsu to call on us, and to that of Uwajima to convey my thanks for the kindness exhibited to my two servants. In the afternoon we went out for a walk in the Shinsai-bashi Suji, which is the principal street of the city, preceded by a small band of one-sworded men, who emitted a cry like a crow—kau, kau—to warn the people out of the way. Dense crowds hovered on our footsteps, eager to catch a glimpse of the strangers, for no Europeans had been in Ozaka since the last Dutch mission from Nagasaki had passed through a few years before. We were no less inquisitive, and made a great round, past all the booksellers' and mercers' shops, till dark.

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 I suggested that we might have some more private talk. It was a mistake on my part, however. Matsuki afterwards changed his name to Terashima TÔzÔ, or perhaps merely reassumed it, and held office pretty constantly since the revolution of 1868, chiefly in connexion with foreign affairs. So Komatsu, Yoshii, Mitford and I retired together into an inner room. They told us that the Mikado's death had taken place on the 30th January, though the date officially announced was the 3rd February. He had been succeeded by his son, a youth of fifteen, who, it was thought, had in him the makings of a clever man if properly educated in foreign and domestic politics. But unfortunately the Baku-fu would not allow him to be approached by any teachers who could improve his mind. During the new Mikado's youth, the conduct of public affairs would be carried on in his name by the Kwambaku (best rendered vizier). This officer is chosen from one of five noble court families, nominally of course by the Mikado, but in reality by the Tycoon and principal daimiÔs. The present Kwambaku was a wise and good man, but too much disposed to listen to the counsels of the Baku-fu. They thought the new ShÔgun's idea in inviting the foreign representatives to Ozaka was merely a counter move to the invitations which Sir Harry Parkes had accepted from the daimiÔs of Satsuma and Uwajima. The ShÔgun would probably talk a great deal about drawing closer the bonds of friendship, etc., but would avoid treating about the opening of HiÔgo. The Baku-fu in fact did not wish that event to take place, because it would let a flood of light into the minds of the Mikado and the court nobles. Komatsu said he had remonstrated with the Baku-fu for delaying to hand over the land at HiÔgo and postponing the notification of the tariff convention of last June, their answer being that they had not yet made up their minds on those subjects. Satsuma, he said, had purchased some land near KÔbÉ as a site for a Kura-yashiki, of which they would be willing to let us have the greater portion for a foreign settlement. Satsuma wished to see the place opened to foreign trade, but wanted it to be done in a proper manner. Many of the court nobles were also in favour of the measure; these were men of liberal tendencies, but not in favour with the Baku-fu, who had imprisoned some of them; they were not allowed to have access to the Mikado.

Affairs being in a critical condition, it was probable that the ShÔgun would stop a long time at KiÔto. Were he to return to Yedo, he would lose his hold over the Mikado, and ChÔshiÛ might make another dash at the palace. None of the daimiÔs had proceeded specially to KiÔto for the investiture of the ShÔgun, the absent ones being represented by their agents. Komatsu begged us to tell Sir Harry that it was not the desire of Satsuma and the other daimiÔs who acted with him to upset the Baku-fu, but simply to restrain them from misusing their powers. They hoped, however, to see the Mikado restored to his ancient position as de facto ruler of the country. All the plans and hopes of Satsuma tended to the benefit of the country, and not to a revolution against the ShÔgun. If Sir Harry on his arrival would propose to make a treaty with the Mikado, the daimiÔs would at once give in their adhesion, and flock to KiÔto in order to take part in carrying out the great scheme. All that was necessary was for him to help them to this extent, and they would do the rest.

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.

Noguchi, as I have said, belonged to the Aidzu clan, which furnished the best part of the Shogun's fighting force at KiÔto. I had sent him there to see his people, and he returned with the news that some were coming down to call on me. Accordingly, late in the evening of the 17th, four of them appeared, named Kajiwara Heima (a KarÔ), Kurazawa Uhei, Yamada TeisukÉ and Kawara Zenzayemon, bearing as presents rolls of light blue silk damask, and lists of swords and other articles to be hereafter given to Sir Harry, Mitford, and myself. In making official presents the custom was that a list written on thick, light cream-coloured paper called hÔsho-gami should accompany the articles, and often, if these were not ready, the list was handed over beforehand. We had nothing to give in return, but entertained them to the best of our ability. Kajiwara in particular distinguished himself by drinking champagne, whiskey, sherry, rum, gin and gin and water without blinking or shrinking. He was a particularly handsome young fellow, with a fair complexion, and had perfect manners. We gave them a letter of introduction to Captain Hewett of the "Basilisk," as they wanted to see a foreign man-of-war. This was the foundation of a close friendship between myself and the Aidzu clan, which survived the war of the revolution and the completest possible difference of opinion on Japanese internal politics. But they never resented the part we took, clearly seeing that all the English wanted was the good of the Japanese as a nation, and that they were not partisans of any faction. Our new friends came a couple of days later to tiffin, when they were regaled with champagne and preserved meats, greatly to the elevation of their spirits. It ought to be noted that in those days it was quite the proper thing to get drunk at a dinner party, and a host whose guests went away sober would have been mortified by a feeling that his hospitality had not been properly appreciated. One of them got very tight, and began to talk things unfit for the ears of boys or maidens, while another produced a packet of indecent pictures, which he generously distributed among the four of us. In return for this entertainment Kajiwara invited us to go and drink sakÉ with him in the evening. We at once accepted, but had some trouble with the foreign department officials from Yedo, to whom it appeared an improper violation of all precedent for members of a foreign legation to attend a feast given by a daimiÔ's man, even though the daimiÔ belonged to the ShÔgun's party. We could therefore trust them to make every effort behind our backs to prevent the entertainment coming off.

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 sakÉ was brought up, they descended from the upper storey, where they had been engaged in completing their toilette. Some of them were certainly pretty, others decidedly ugly, but we thought their looks ruined in any case by the blackened teeth and white-lead-powdered faces. In later times I became more accustomed to the shining black teeth which were then the distinctive mark of a married woman, as well as of every "artiste" old enough to have an admirer, so much so that when the empress set the fashion by discontinuing the practice, it was long before I, in common with most Japanese, could reconcile myself to the new style. I have always thought Japanese dancing, or rather posturing, extremely uninteresting. It is a sort of interpreting by more or less graceful (or, as one may look at it, affected) movements of body and limbs, of the words of a song chanted to the accompaniment of a kind of three-stringed lute. It is some help to know the words of the song beforehand; they are no more comprehensible when sung than the sounds given forth by the singers in Italian opera are to the majority of their audience. But no foreigner, unless he be an enthusiast, would ever take the trouble to educate himself to appreciate this form of art. He can enjoy the beautiful in other ways at much less cost of time and mental exertion. Then it takes a long apprenticeship to accustom the European ear to music constructed with a set of intervals that are different enough from ours to make nine-tenths of the notes seem out of tune. This form of entertainment is universal all over the east, in India, Burma, Siam, China and Japan, with local variations, and is, to my uncultivated taste, everywhere equally tedious. Our Yedo officials had found us out, and did not cease to urge our return, until at eleven o'clock we gave way to their importunity and said good-bye to our hosts, after only a short stay. I daresay they kept it up to a much later hour. This was the evening before we left Ozaka.


                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                                           

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