RECEPTION OF FOREIGN MINISTERS BY THE TYCOON

On our return to Yedo we were horrified to learn of the death by his own hand of poor Vidal, the junior student interpreter. No motive was assignable for the terrible act, except ill-health. Insane he certainly was not. A more lucid intellect it would be difficult to find. He had abilities of a very high order, but was a prey to a torpid liver, which seemed always to embitter his existence. His first nomination was to Siam, but before he had taken up his appointment he was transferred to Peking. After a year or two there, finding the climate did not suit him, he obtained a change to Japan. But even there he was not content with his lot, and preferred annihilation.

The next few days were spent in visiting Atami and HakonÉ in company with some friends from Yokohama. There is nothing worthy of record about this excursion, except that Atami, which then contained only a couple of hotels, now (1887) possesses at least a dozen, and has become a fashionable winter resort, much frequented by the higher classes living in TÔkiÔ (Yedo). The cost of transport then was much less than it would be now. We paid the coolies who carried our baggage over to HakonÉ, a distance of about ten miles, 1-3/4 ichibus, about 2 shillings and 4d per man. At that time there existed a barrier at the eastern end of the village, at which all travellers had to exhibit their passports to the men on guard. The notice-board at the guardhouse, among other provisions, stated that dead bodies, wounded persons, and individuals of suspicious aspect were not allowed to proceed without the production of a passport. A lady of our party accomplished the difficult feat of riding on a Japanese pony down the steep and badly paved road which descends from the top of the pass to Odawara. We established ourselves in the official inn, where we were received with due respect and cordiality by the innkeeper. It was a one-storied building spread over a considerable area, and containing ten or fifteen rooms of the regulation size, namely 12 feet square, besides a huge kitchen and an entrance hall. Here we passed the night, and on the following day Noguchi procured for us packhorses and coolies at the government rates, which were 1 horse load 464 cash, 1 coolie load 233 cash, for a distance of ten miles. Now 6600 cash were equal to one riÔ, that is four ichibus, or at par rates about 5s 4d, so that the official rate for the coolie was about two and a fifth pence for the whole distance or a little over the 1/5 of a penny per mile. The coolies were obliged to perform the labour as corvÉe, and if they were not in sufficient number, the population of the post towns had to hire men at ordinary rates to let them out at the government tariff. It was a heavy tax, and one of the first reforms of the new government established after the revolution was the abolition of this system. At Hodogaya I parted from the rest of the party, who returned to Yokohama, and went on to Kanagawa, where I slept at the hon-jin or official hotel, occupying the best rooms, which were reserved for daimiÔs and high officials of the government. I rode in a kago or palanquin from Hodogaya, just five miles, and was two hours accomplishing that short distance. It was, however, the ordinary rate of travelling in those days. One of the native legation guard went ahead, also in a kago, preceded by a big bamboo and paper lantern on a pole, then came my kago, followed by a coolie carrying my baggage in a couple of wicker boxes slung on a pole (riÔ-gakÉ), and a second guardsman. Noguchi probably walked. Next morning when I came to discharge the bill for my whole party, including rooms, sakÉ and sakana, supper and breakfast, I found it amounted to about 8s 6d, and I gave one ichibu (say 1s 4d) to the hotelkeeper as cha-dai or tea money, which was considered quite enough. In Japan the charge for a night's lodging, called hatago, used to include everything, rice, tea, sleeping accommodation, fuel, candles, and use of the hot bath. The only extras were sakÉ and sakana, which a liberal-minded traveller ordered "for the good of the house," but if he was of an economical turn, he contented himself with the regular two meals, which were quite enough to satisfy his appetite. Sakana (fish) is more played with than eaten, and is merely the excuse for sakÉ. The comparison with a European hotel bill, with its charges for candles, firing and bath, is striking. Moreover, in Japan, you give no tips, for none are expected, and the tea money takes the place of the charge for the room you occupy.

It was after my return from this journey that Mitford and I removed to a little house outside the legation, situated in a pretty garden on the rising ground which overhangs the side road leading from the TÔkaidÔ to Sen-gaku-ji. It was in reality a small monastery named MonriÔ-In, and we occupied the guest apartments, having each a bedroom and one sitting room. No palisade surrounded it, and our only protection was a hut at the gate which held three or four of the bettÉ-gumi. We thought ourselves very plucky in thus braving the risks of midnight assassination, when the legation grounds below us were patrolled all night, and sentries passed the word to each other as the hours struck. Here we spent several months together, living entirely on Japanese food, which was brought three times a day from a restaurant known as Mansei, much frequented by our friends the Satsuma men.

Mitford devoted himself with unflagging diligence to the study of the Japanese language, as he had before at Peking to that of the Chinese, and made rapid progress. I began to compile for his use a series of sentences and dialogues which some years afterwards were published under the title of Kwai-wa Hen. It was convenient to be outside the legation compound, because I could receive visits from the retainers of daimiÔs without obstruction. I used to go a good deal to the Satsuma yashiki in Mita to get political information from two men named Shibayama RiÔsukÉ and Nambu YahachirÔ; the former met his death towards the close of the year in a remarkable manner. The yashiki, having gained evil repute as the refuge of a number of rÔnin and other disorderly political characters, was surrounded and set on fire by the ShÔgun's police. There was a fight, many were killed, but Shibayama was made prisoner. When brought up for examination, he boldly avowed that he had been the ringleader, and then drawing a pistol from the bosom of his dress, shot himself through the head. He was a capital companion, and I had more than one agreeable adventure with him.

Towards the middle of April the foreign diplomatic representatives moved in a body down to Ozaka. The French Minister, M. Roches, had already been there in March in furtherance of the special line of policy he was pursuing, and seen the ShÔgun; doubtless promises of support had been given; at any rate, counsel had been offered. In fact, as it afterwards turned out, M. Roches so far committed himself with the Baku-fu that he found it impossible to remain one day longer in Japan after its final overthrow. On our side Sir Harry Parkes was resolved henceforth to treat the ShÔgun as of no more importance than a vice-gerent; henceforward he was styled by us His Highness, while for the Queen we used a Japanese title placing her on full equality with the Mikado.

Sir Harry took with him to Ozaka the mounted escort under Captain Applin, and a detachment of 50 men from the 2/ix, commanded by Captain Daunt and Lieutenant Bradshaw. Lady Parkes was also of the party. The staff consisted of the secretary of legation, Sidney Locock, Mitford, myself (I was acting Japanese secretary), Willis, Aston and Wilkinson. We had persuaded Sir Harry to let Charles Wirgman come with us. We numbered about seventy Europeans, besides some thirty Chinese and Japanese, writers, servants and grooms. The Tycoon's government furnished all the fresh supplies required. Great offence was caused by this exclusive privilege, and Rickerby in the "Japan Times" poured out his wrath upon the head of our friend the artist. It was perhaps not an unreasonable complaint from their point of view that no representatives of the mercantile community were invited to accompany the foreign ministers, but it is quite certain that they would have been very much in the way.

The British Legation occupied four spacious temples or monasteries at the further end of a street called Tera-machi, the other representatives being accommodated in perhaps somewhat inferior buildings nearer to its entrance. But the British Minister had taken the trouble to send down two of his staff beforehand to make all the arrangements, while the others were ready to be contented with what was provided for them by the Japanese Government. Mitford, Wirgman and I occupied one end of a temple (ChÔ-hÔ-ji) overlooking the city, while at the other end were Sir Harry's "office" and the temporary chancery. The whole mission messed together in the temple on the other side of the street, where Sir Harry and Lady Parkes had their abode. Next door was a temple given up to the officers of the guard and two student interpreters, and the fourth was set apart for guests. I had a charming set of rooms on three floors. The bottom was occupied by the Japanese writers and my retainers, the centre floor, consisting of two rooms, served as a bedroom and "office," and the top was a sort of parlour where I received guests, only twelve feet by nine, but large enough to accommodate a dozen persons, as it did not contain a single piece of furniture.

It was a busy time. I was employed from morning till night translating and interpreting, and remember that on one occasion I had to talk Japanese for eleven successive hours, as the chief had Japanese guests both at luncheon and dinner. For this reason I found no time to keep my journal, and what follows is a pure effort of memory, aided only as far as the dates are concerned by reference to printed sources.

A great part of our time was taken up with the regulations under which settlements were to be formed at HiÔgo and Ozaka, the conditions under which land was to be leased to foreigners, and the creation of a municipality at each place, and Sir Harry being the most practical man among the whole body of foreign representatives, the work fell in the main on his shoulders. The Japanese Government were evidently desirous of conciliating the representatives, and the negotiations proceeded with unaccustomed smoothness and celerity. No more angry discussions and heated arguments (in which the heat and anger of our chief were opposed to the stolid calm of the imperturbable Japanese Ministers) such as had characterized our official interviews at Yedo. At the word of the new ShÔgun an entirely new line had been adopted, and a serious endeavour was made to convert the treaty of friendship into a reality.

Then we had visits from Satsuma, Awa and Uwajima men, and tried to ascertain what was likely to be the out-turn of the political movement that had been in progress now for thirteen years. But on the whole everything seemed to point to the triumph of the ShÔgun over his opponents. And one of the principal objects with which he had invited the foreign ministers to Ozaka was that he might make their personal acquaintance, and thus manifest his desire to cultivate friendly relations with foreign countries. Who put this into his head I do not know, but it does not seem Á priori unlikely that a closer intimacy with the legations had been suggested to him by one of the representatives themselves. A good deal of time was consumed in discussing the etiquette to be observed at the audiences of the ShÔgun, but in the end it was arranged that it should be entirely according to European fashion. The first interview was a private one. Sir Harry proceeded to the castle on horseback, accompanied by all the members of the mission, preceded by the mounted escort, and with a detachment of the infantry guard before and behind. A cloud of the Japanese guard called bettÉ-gumi hovered on our flanks and kept back the crowd. A rather ludicrous incident was the presentation of arms by the soldiers who lined the open space in front of the castle to the officer in command of the escort, whose resplendent uniform had led them to mistake him for the minister. At the nearer end of the causeway crossing the moat there used to stand a wooden board inscribed with the Chinese characters for "alight from horseback," but as had been agreed upon beforehand, we took no notice of this and passed on through the gateway to the very door of the palace. If I recollect rightly, this was almost close to the gate. The palace unfortunately exists no longer, having been destroyed by fire during the retreat of the defeated Baku-fu forces early in February 1868. But it was reputed to be the most splendid example of domestic architecture then extant in Japan. It certainly was far superior to the Mikado's Palace at KiÔto. Wide and lofty matted corridors, partitioned off by painted screens, of choice cryptomeria wood, ran along the front of a succession of large rooms and away to the right by the side of the three large apartments constituting the Ôbiroma or hall of audience. The other apartments had each a specific name, and the daimiÔs were classified according to their right of waiting in one or the other for their turn of admission to the presence. Over these wooden screens were large panels of carved wood representing birds and animals surrounded by foliage, but somewhat too richly painted, very much in the style familiar to those who have visited the mausoleum of IyÉyasu at NikkÔ.

We were conducted along the matted corridor by the Commissioners for Foreign Affairs, who had some difficulty in walking, as the court rules prescribed their wearing long wide trousers that extended far beyond their feet, so as to give them the appearance of moving on their knees, until we reached the further room, where the ShÔgun was awaiting us. He shook hands with Sir Harry, and sat down at the head of a long table, with Sir Harry on his right and on his left Itakura Iga no Kami, who might be styled Prime Minister. The rest of the staff sat next to Sir Harry, and I had a stool between him and the ShÔgun. He was one of the most aristocratic-looking Japanese I have ever seen, of fair complexion, with a high forehead and well-cut nose—such a gentleman. I felt somewhat nervous, not knowing whether I had got hold of the forms of speech required by court etiquette, and remember making a ridiculous blunder over an observation of Sir Harry's that all that was disagreeable in the past relations of Great Britain and Japan was now forgotten. There was no business talk on this occasion, and after the conversation was over, the whole company adjourned to a smaller apartment where dinner was served in European style. The ShÔgun sat at the head of the table, and was very gracious. Round the walls hung paintings of the thirty-six poets, and Sir Harry having admired them, the ShÔgun made him a present of one. Whiskey and water were produced after the repast, and I had the honour of brewing toddy for the great man. It was dark when we left.

A few days later there was a formal audience, at which the captains of the men-of-war were presented. We had arranged beforehand the address of Sir Harry and the reply of the ShÔgun, who had been tutored also into saying a few words to each person presented to him. These somewhat resembled the Turkish Pasha's remarks as translated by the dragoman at the famous interview described in Eothen. To Captain Haswell, who had been on a polar expedition, for instance, he said what really amounted to "you had a long journey," but was interpreted in much more complimentary style.

I remember receiving a visit from SaigÔ and others of that party, who were not at all pleased at the rapprochement between us and the ShÔgun. I hinted to SaigÔ that the chance of a revolution was not to be lost. If HiÔgo were once opened, then good-bye to the chances of the daimiÔs.

The street in which the foreign representatives lodged was shut in at each end by solid wooden gates, at which a number of the bettÉ-gumi were stationed on guard day and night, and it was impossible to get out into the city without an escort, as the guard had instructions to follow us wherever we went. This was very irksome to Mitford and myself, until we found out a gap in the wall which surrounded one of the temples, and from that time we used to make nocturnal excursions to all parts of the town, accompanied by my retainer Noguchi. The sense of a certain peril to be encountered, combined with a sort of truant schoolboy feeling, rendered these explorations into the night life of Japan very enjoyable. On one occasion young MatsunÉ joined us on an expedition to the quarter occupied by singing and dancing girls; it was a moonlight night, and the chance of detection by the guard was so much the greater. After getting through our gap, we doubled back, and passing behind the legations, got into a lower street running parallel to that in which we lived, where we ran along for some distance keeping close in the shadow of the houses, then darted into another street at right angles, turned to the right again until we felt sure of having baffled any possible pursuers, after which we walked on quietly, and crossing one of the long bridges over the river, found ourselves at our destination. A room had been taken in MatsunÉ's name, and some of the bepowdered and berouged girls were awaiting the arrival of the Japanese party they had expected to meet, when to their surprise and horror three Europeans were ushered into their midst. We were at that time objects of more alarm than interest to the women of Ozaka. The fair damsels starting up with a scream fairly ran away, and no assurances from our friend would induce them to return. The keeper of the house besought us to leave, as a crowd might collect, and if there was any disturbance he would get into trouble, and so we had to submit to our disappointment. But even the slight glimpse we had of the native beauties seemed to compensate for the risk run, for here in Ozaka no foreigner had ever been admitted to the quarter. On another occasion, when we were accompanied by some of the guard we had better success, and enjoyed the society of some gei-shas for several hours, the government officials having given their consent and even interfered, I believe, on our behalf. MatsunÉ, being a daimiÔ's man, was looked on with much suspicion. It seemed a plucky thing on his part to spend so much time with us, and even to accompany us in broad daylight to the tea-gardens opposite to where the Mint now stands. Everything was new and delightful in Ozaka, politics and diplomacy afforded unceasing interest and excitement, the streets, shops, theatres and temples were full of life and character of a kind thoroughly distinct from what we were accustomed to in Yedo and Yokohama, and the difference of dialect and costume imparted additional piquancy to the women.

During the whole five weeks we spent there we had not a single dull day. There was always something to do in the intervals of our official work, visits to temples and theatres, tea-drinking according to the elaborate ceremonial of the cha-no-yu, an excursion to the large commercial town of Sakai, the existence of which in such close proximity to Ozaka seems hard to explain. Near our residence was a florist's establishment, famous for its collection of orchids, which in Japan are cultivated more for their foliage than for their flowers; this taste is conditioned by the fact that in Loochoo, China and Japan there are very few species bearing conspicuous or fine blossoms, and the amateur makes the best of what is procurable. More attractive to the European was the exhibition of tree-peonies, which was going on during our stay. These flowers are now fashionable in England, but at that time were not much known; the magnificent pink or white blossoms of various shades, often as much as nine inches in diameter, are quite unsurpassable, and fully justify the Chinese title of "king of flowers." In Chinese and Japanese decorative art it is always associated with the lion, and has often been mistaken for the rose by European writers. Curio shops and silk stores also took up a good deal of our time, but the fabrics of the loom had not then attained the high artistic development of later years. We went about the city in every direction, and though frequently encountering men of the two-sworded class, never met with any instance of rudeness, while the common people were uniformly friendly to us.

The negotiations between the foreign representatives and the delegates of the Japanese Government proceeded satisfactorily though somewhat slowly, and about the middle of May had reached a stage at which it was felt that nothing more could be done for the present. All the ministers, therefore, made their preparations for returning to Yedo. Before leaving that part of the country Sir Harry made a trip across to Tsuruga, which had been talked of as a possible substitute for the port of Niigata, reported to be practically closed to commerce for one half of the year by the combined inconveniences of a bar at the mouth of the river on which it stands, and the persistent north-west gales that raise a most dangerous sea. It had been agreed between us and the Japanese that as a supplementary refuge for ships the harbour of Ebisuminato in the island of Sado should be opened if necessary, but only as an anchorage. If after an inspection of these two places the combined arrangement should appear unworkable, then some other port was to be substituted, either Tsuruga or Nanao. Sir Harry was accompanied by Lady Parkes and some of the staff. He proceeded by way of Fushimi, along the western side of the Biwa Lake, and returning by the eastern shore. The anti-ShÔgun party made a great grievance of this journey, and fell foul of the government for having permitted the "barbarians" to approach so near to the sacred capital, Fushimi being practically a suburb of KiÔto, and the Satsuma people put in a written memorial on the subject, more to annoy the Tycoon's government than as a mark of real hostility to us. Of course we did not know of this until long after. I obtained leave to return to Yedo overland, and Wirgman became my travelling companion.

A proposal was made to Sir Harry by the Tycoon's government through Kawakatsu Omi no Kami to procure professors for English for a large public school to be established in Yedo on the basis of the existing Kaiseijo. Dr Temple was asked by Her Majesty's Government to furnish a sufficient staff at salaries which we in the legation thought quite adequate, but he took no trouble about the matter, and we thus lost the opportunity of giving an English turn to the higher class education of the country.