A Diplomat in Japan / The inner history of the critical years in the evolution of Japan when the ports were opened and the monarchy restored, recorded by a diplomatist who took an active part in the events of the time, with an account of his personal experiences during that period

CHAPTER XXII

TOSA AND NAGASAKI

Early on the morning of September 3 we anchored outside the little harbour of Susaki in Tosa. Inside were lying the Tycoon's war steamer "Eagle" (Kaiten Maru) and a smaller one belonging to the Prince of Tosa. We had fully expected a hostile reception, and preparations had been made for action. Shortly afterwards TakabatakÉ GorÔ and KomÉda KeijirÔ came on board to say that Hirayama, the chief commissioner, was up at KÔchi. GotÔ ShÔjirÔ, the leading Tosa minister, also paid us a visit, but we told him to go away till we could get the ship inside the bay. Then arrived the other two commissioners (Togawa and an ÔmetsukÉ) to tell us that no evidence implicating any of the Tosa men had been discovered. The little schooner "Nankai," in which the assassins were supposed to have escaped from Nagasaki, was lying higher up the bay at Urado. Later on GotÔ came on board with two other local officers. They promised to do all they could to discover the murderers, even if they should not be Tosa men. Sir Harry, who had quite made up his mind that the Tosa men were guilty, tried to browbeat them, adding oddly enough that with Tosa he could have none but friendly relations; the official discussions must take place with the Tycoon's government. After they left, Hirayama made his appearance; a long and stormy interview took place, in the course of which he heard a good deal of strong language, and was told that he was of no more use than a common messenger. He recounted to us in a plaintive manner the hardships he had undergone on the way down and since his arrival, for the Tosa people were extremely angry at the suspicions cast on them.

Later on Sir Harry sent me ashore to see GotÔ, and detail to him all the circumstances which seemed to us to be evidence against his fellow clansmen. He renewed the assurances he had given in the morning, and said he felt certain my writer Ono and Noguchi were neither more nor less than government spies. The next morning I saw GotÔ again, who renewed his protestations, and complained of Sir Harry's rough language and demeanour, which he felt sure would some day cause a terrible row. I was myself rather sick of being made the intermediary of the overbearing language to which the chief habitually resorted, and told GotÔ to remonstrate with him, if he really thought this; as for myself, I did not dare to hint anything of the kind to my chief. I also saw Hirayama, and arranged with him that I should be present at the examination of the officers of the "Nankai," who were to be sent down from Urado. At three o'clock two small steamers arrived, yet it was seven before the Tycoon's officials reached the "Basilisk" to say that everything was in readiness. As dinner was now announced, the inquiry was put off till the next day.

On the 5th September the examination was accordingly held in my presence. On the Japanese side the evidence went to show that the "Nankai" did not leave till ten p.m. on the 6th August, while Sir Harry's version was that she sailed at half-past four that morning, only an hour and a half after the schooner; and it was on this alleged fact that the whole of the suspicion against the Tosa men was founded. (It was proved at the end of 1868 that the murderers belonged to the Chikuzen clan, which was rather an unfortunate conclusion for him.) I reported this to Sir Harry, who was of course greatly dissatisfied. GotÔ afterwards came on board to see Sir Harry and there was the usual talk about cultivating friendly relations between the English and Tosa. Sir Harry said he wished to send me as his envoy to call formally on the retired daimiÔ of Tosa, to which GotÔ replied that Sir Harry could himself see the ex-daimiÔ, if we were on friendly terms. Otherwise, it was useless to hold any communications even by messenger. I knew perfectly well that I could easily manage to visit KÔchi, if left to myself, without the chief taking a roundabout way to get me there under the pretext of a mission to the old prince.

By this time my relations with the Japanese were such that I could have gone anywhere with perfect safety. A visit from Hirayama and his colleagues came next. The evidence taken was discussed, and Sir Harry said the inquiry must now be removed to Nagasaki, and that Hirayama ought to proceed thither to conduct it. Hirayama objected strongly, offering to send his two fellow commissioners, but it would not do, and he was finally forced to consent. The poor old fellow was almost at his wit's end. He became actually impertinent, and remarked that after all this murder case concerned Englishmen alone, while he had business to transact at Yedo which concerned all nations. I was much astonished to find that Sir Harry did not get into a passion on being talked to in this somewhat unceremonious way by a Japanese, but simply replied to it in a quiet argumentative tone. But a more curious thing followed.

After dinner GotÔ came on board to have a talk on politics. He spoke of his idea of establishing a parliament, and a constitution on the English model, and said that SaigÔ entertained similar notions. That we had learnt at Ozaka. Then followed a good deal of abuse of the Tycoon's government, especially with reference to the proposed formation of a guild to control the foreign commerce of Ozaka and HiÔgo. We showed him the proclamation we had extorted from the government, intended to annul the previous one constituting these guilds. He replied that it was a mere blind, and I confess that I agreed with him. Sir Harry took a great fancy to him, as being one of the most intelligent Japanese we had as yet met with, and to my own mind SaigÔ alone was his superior by force of character. They swore eternal friendship, and GotÔ promised to write once a month to report anything that might come to light in connection with the "Icarus" murder. Last of all he remonstrated with Sir Harry, at some length and in very explicit terms, about his rough demeanour on previous occasions, and hinted that perhaps others would not have submitted so quietly to such treatment. It was by no means a pleasant task for me to put his words into English, especially as Hewett's presence rendered the rebuke all the more galling, and Sir Harry at first seemed inclined to resent being thus lectured by a Japanese. However he managed to keep his temper, so no bones were broken.

Poor old Hirayama was made quite ill by the struggle he had had with the chief, but he did not venture to break his promise to proceed to Nagasaki and pursue the inquiry in person. I now received detailed written instructions from Sir Harry to follow the old fox, as we called him, to Nagasaki, to watch the proceedings and stimulate both the Tycoon's officials and the Tosa people to leave no stone unturned in their search for the murderers. Sir Harry himself was obliged to return to Yedo in the "Basilisk," and it was arranged that I should take a passage down to Nagasaki in a Tosa steamer, together with the incriminated officers of the "Nankai" and the officials named to conduct the inquiry. I was to be clothed with authority equal to that of the consul, but was not to interfere in any measures he might think fit to take. Sir Harry left on the 6th September, and I transferred myself to the Tosa steamer along with my writer and the faithful Noguchi.

There I spent the next day, after having seen the Tycoon's war steamer "Eagle" depart with Hirayama on board. In the middle of the night I was woken up by a messenger from GotÔ, bringing an invitation for me to go up to KÔchi and make the acquaintance of the ex-daimiÔ. They had sent down a tugboat for me, so I went on board at once at four, after a hasty meal of rice and tea, and falling asleep on a locker, woke up at daylight to find myself already some way from Susaki. We did not anchor at Urado till half-past nine. The view outside of distant hills and a belt of pine trees fringing the shore reminded me strongly of the Bay of Point de Galle in Ceylon, where the eastern mail steamers used to call before the construction of the harbour at Colombo.

KÔchi Bay is in reality an estuary, with a very narrow outlet, much obstructed by rocks. We seemed to be running straight on to the sandy beach, when a sudden turn to the left put our head into the river, and we came to an anchor in fifteen feet of water inside a little cove. The river widens considerably above this point, but is so shallow that only boats drawing less than a foot of water can go up. I was transferred to a houseboat, which made very slow progress. At last, after traversing two or three broad lake-like reaches, we came in sight of the castle of KÔchi, rendered conspicuous from a distance by its lofty donjon four storeys high. Soon afterwards we turned up an embanked canal to the left, and touched the shore under a large new building on the outskirts of the town. Here I was met by GotÔ, who told me that the ex-daimiÔ would shortly arrive. While waiting for his appearance I changed my dress, and was introduced to a host of GotÔ's colleagues. At last the ex-daimiÔ YÔdÔ was announced, and I was conducted upstairs into his presence. He met me at the threshold, and saluted me by touching the tips of his toes with the tips of his fingers. I replied by a bow of exactly equal profundity. We then took our seats, he on a handsome Japanese armchair with his back to the alcove, and I on a common cane-bottomed wooden chair opposite, a little lower down to his right. GotÔ and some of his fellow councillors squatted on the sill dividing the room from that next to it.

He began by saying that he had heard my name. I replied by thanking him for according me the honour of this interview. He then renewed the assurances already given through GotÔ that if the murderers were Tosa men, they should be arrested and punished, and that even if it should appear that the guilty persons belonged to another clan, he would not relax his efforts to trace them out. He had received a letter from the Tycoon stating that he had heard there was strong evidence against Tosa, and advising him to punish the offenders. This of course he would be ready to do, supposing that the murderers were men of his clan, but he did not understand what the Tycoon meant by "evidence." I replied that we supposed the government to be in possession of proofs which they had not disclosed, as it was not likely that they were convinced simply by what Sir Harry had said to them. Perhaps, I added, they threw the suspicion on Tosa in order to get rid of an unpleasant discussion. This remark called forth from GotÔ somewhat unmeasured expressions of indignation, and he announced his intention of giving the government a piece of his mind on the subject. Old YÔdÔ said that he had received a letter from a friend advising him to try and compromise the matter, as the English were greatly incensed at the murder of their men, but he would do nothing of the kind. If his people were guilty he would punish them; he could do no more; but if they were innocent he would declare their innocence through thick and thin.

MatsunÉ Dzusho (the chief man of Uwajima) had told Iyo no Kami that Sir Harry had said the Tycoon's government had assured him of Tosa's guilt. I replied again that from the language of the Tycoon's ministers we could not help inferring that they had independent grounds for their suspicions. YÔdÔ remarked that the only thing Hirayama had alleged was the supposed transfer of men from the schooner "YokobuyÉ" to the steamer "Nankai," which had never been proved. I answered that this was all we had to go upon, but I should consider that we had good reason to blush if after all we had said the men should turn out to belong to another clan; at present I saw no ground for supposing that we were mistaken.

An argument then ensued between GotÔ and myself as to the nature of suspiciousness in general, and what might be held to be sufficient justification for that attitude of mind; in the end he admitted that we were entitled, by our past experience, to mistrust all Japanese À priori, though he maintained that in the present case the rule did not apply. After this YÔdÔ and GotÔ plied me with questions about the Luxemburg affair, the constitution and powers of parliament and the electoral system; it was evident that the idea of a constitution resembling that of Great Britain had already taken deep root in their minds. Later on a proposition was actually made to either Mitford or myself, I forget which, to enter the service of the Mikado and assist in organizing their parliament for them.

Huge dishes of fish were now placed on the table, and waiting women, coiffÉes in the exaggerated style of the daimiÔs' courts, poured out the sakÉ. While we drank and conversed, a pair of anatomical models of the male and female human being, life size, were exhibited and taken to pieces for my especial edification! Rice was afterwards served in the next room, YÔdÔ excusing himself on the ground of indisposition. The fact was, he preferred to remain alone with the sakÉ bottle, of which he was notoriously fond. I had once in my possession a scroll of Chinese verses from his brush, signed "Drunken old man" (sui-Ô).

Before taking my departure, I saw him once more for a few minutes, when he presented me with seven rolls of white crape. Under the circumstances I should have preferred to decline them, but GotÔ argued that they were a part of the entertainment, and I could not refuse without being ungracious, almost discourteous. I therefore accepted, subject to the chief's approval, and we parted, with the same exchange of formal bows as before.

YÔdÔ was a tall man, slightly pock-marked, with bad teeth, and a hurried manner of getting out his words. He certainly looked very ill, and over-indulgence in sakÉ would quite account for that. From some of the remarks he made, I gathered that he was free from prejudice, and not by any means conservative in his political notions. Still, it may be doubted whether he was prepared to go the same lengths as Satsuma and ChÔshiÛ in the direction of change.

It was not considered advisable or safe for me to promenade through the town, and I made no attempt to insist on doing the sights. As I returned back to Urado in the gondola, multitudes of people followed in small boats, anxious to get a sight of the first European that had visited their part of the country since the wreck of the Spanish galleon in 1596, and even grappling with us in order better to satisfy their curiosity. No order was kept, and I was easily convinced that a walk in KÔchi itself might have given rise to a tumult.

Next day they took me to Susaki, and put me on board the "Shooeyleen," the steamer in which we were to proceed to Nagasaki. For the past two days I had been suffering from a whitlow on one of the fingers of the right hand, and felt utterly indifferent to all that passed around me. Bad food, a dirty cabin, excessive heat, sullen fellow-voyagers were all accepted with the calmness of exhausted misery. The "Shooeyleen's" boilers were old, and we steamed along at the rate of two knots an hour. Luckily the weather was calm, otherwise there was every reason to think we must have gone to the bottom. Passing through ShimonosÉki, I went on shore to ask after old friends, and found InouyÉ Bunda, who was a perfect sink of taciturnity. There was no appearance here of guns or men-of-war, nothing to indicate that ChÔshiÛ was still at war with the Tycoon; but all around were signs of peace and prosperity. The Tosa officers also landed, one and all, on some pretext or other, and the whole day was spent at anchor. Towards evening we set forth again in the same leisurely fashion, and reached Nagasaki on the 12th September late in the afternoon. Here I put up with Marcus Flowers, the consul. At dinner that evening I met for the first time the well-known Kido JunichirÔ, otherwise Katsura KogorÔ, who came to the consulate together with ItÔ ShunsukÉ, whom I had known since 1864. Katsura was remarkable for his gentle suave manner, though under this there lay a character of the greatest courage and determination, both military and political. We had some talk after dinner about politics, but I think they mistrusted me. At any rate they thought it necessary to assert that their prince was a much wronged, innocent and harmless individual, who had never entertained any schemes for overturning the Tycoon's government. But we had long been in possession of indisputable evidence that the abolition of the ShÔgunate was the cardinal point in the policy pursued by the western daimiÔs acting in concert.

On the following day Flowers and I went to meet Hirayama at the custom-house. The two governors were also present. Though they had been severely blamed by Sir Harry, they did not appear to be particularly disturbed by his censures. The Tosa steamer "Nankai" had left, in fact she steamed out of the harbour just after Sir Harry went off in the "Basilisk." On the 19th of August, as she was about to leave for Kagoshima, she was stopped, and an examination was held, which lasted through the night until the afternoon of the 20th, but without any evidence of complicity in the murders being elicited. The officers and crew were then entrusted to the charge of Iwasaki YatarÔ, Tosa's agent (kiki-yaku), who undertook to produce them whenever they should be wanted. But she sailed the same evening, in defiance of Iwasaki's orders, at least so the Tosa people alleged. Nothing had been discovered with respect to the real criminals, and, as far as we could see, the governors had not exerted themselves to find out the guilty persons.

The 14th I spent with ItÔ and Katsura at a tea-house called Tamagawa, away at the back of the town close to the stream which flows down through it. We had a long discussion on Japanese politics, domestic and foreign, ending with the conclusion that Europeans and Japanese would never mix, at least not in our time. On my way back I called on HikozÔ (the well-known Joseph Heco), who told me of a document, said to be signed by Satsuma, Tosa, GeishiÛ, Bizen and Awa, which had been presented to the ShÔgun Keiki, requiring him to resign his office and allow the government to be reconstituted.

On Sunday the 15th I lunched with Hirayama. He said that Sasaki SanshirÔ, the Tosa metsukÉ (equivalent to attorney-general, but not trained in law), was overruled by the Tosa society called the Kai-yen-tai, a sort of local navy league, who would not allow him to carry out the official orders received from his prince to have search made for the criminals. This was natural enough, as it was afterwards proved that the Tosa men were altogether innocent of the affair.

Katsu Awa no Kami Commissioner of the Navy

Niiro GiÔbu, Satsuma KarÔ

The 16th was spent at the custom house in the examination of the men of the "YokobuyÉ," a Tosa sailing-vessel. It appeared certain that the "Nankai" did not leave Nagasaki till the evening of the 6th August. Two of the Kai-yen-tai, one of whom was the captain of the "YokobuyÉ," were shown to have been at a house of entertainment opposite to the spot where the British sailors were murdered up to midnight. This looked suspicious, but I told the Japanese officials that if they did not disbelieve the statements that had been made, neither did I. The Tosa people did not want to make the "YokobuyÉ" return, neither did the government officials seem to insist on her recall. As my plan was to throw on the government officials the responsibility of discovering the murderers, I did not urge it, but left it to Flowers, who was associated with me in the inquiry, to do so if he judged it necessary.

In the evening of the 18th I went to see Hirayama, and communicated to him my suspicions regarding a young fellow of forbidding countenance, who was with the captain of the "YokobuyÉ" on the night of the murder at the house of entertainment referred to. I suggested that his companion should be sent for, and also the four men stated to have gone to Karatsu (in the north of Hizen, near the boundary of Chikuzen) in the "Nankai," and to have landed there. I advised that the keeper of the house of entertainment should be examined, and asked for copies of all depositions received, especially of the two Tosa men. What had fixed suspicion upon men of that province in particular was their general evil reputation as being predisposed towards assassination. The depositions were sent to us by the governors in the afternoon of the 19th, and on discrepancies being pointed out in those of the two Tosa men, they promised to send for one of them whose further examination appeared to be especially desirable. The translation of the depositions occupied me for the whole of the succeeding day. Then on the 21st I went to see Niiro GiÔbu, a Satsuma karÔ, and asked him to make an inquiry about the murder among his own people. He said this had already been done, and offered to give me a copy of the record. As he said that nothing suspicious had been discovered, I declined his offer with thanks. But I hinted to him the possibility of the exclusion of all two-sworded men from the foreign settlement after dark, unless the murderers were discovered and delivered up by the combined clans, a measure which had been recommended to Flowers and myself by Sir Harry, for if the discovery were made by the government, it would be taken to be a proof of the complicity of his clan at least. He did not at all like this suggestion. Then I went to Sasaki SanshirÔ, with whom I had travelled from Tosa. He said that the governors had lent a steamer to fetch the captain of the "YokobuyÉ" and another man, and complained of Hirayama's supposition that he was lukewarm, seeing that he had given money to all the detectives in the place, and had offered a reward of 4000 pieces of silver (worth £450) for the discovery of the murderer or murderers.

Next to Hirayama, to whom I proposed that he should order the Nagasaki representatives of all the clans to examine their men as strictly as the Tosa agents were doing, for as we had been ten days at work without being able to fix the responsibility on them, it was not unreasonable to admit the possibility of men of some other clan being guilty. I proposed that every two-sworded man should be called upon to give an account of his doings on the night of the murder, and that all the houses of entertainment should show their lists of guests on that date. There was, I said, no real difficulty in discovering the perpetrators. In consequence of all this one of the governors called the next afternoon. We proposed to him that the two-sworded men should be excluded from the settlement after dark, to which he added an amendment that if they had urgent business there in the evening, they should be escorted to and fro. The examination of all the clansmen and of persons who were in a house of entertainment close to the site of the murder was again urged by us. The governor also promised to have guard-houses erected at three points in the foreign settlement.

Two days later the same governor called again, and promised that the precautionary measures we had proposed to him should be taken. Nothing further was done until the 28th, when I attended at the custom house to hear the examination of two Tosa men who had been brought from KÔchi in the government steamer. It led to this result, that the governors declared that they found nothing to incriminate any of the men who had left Nagasaki in the "YokobuyÉ" and "Nankai," and considered the Tosa people to be cleared of all suspicion as far as these two vessels were concerned. We rejoined that on the contrary we entertained very strong suspicions, not founded on any ocular testimony, but on circumstantial evidence, namely, that the murder was almost certainly committed by men in white foreign dress a little after midnight. That one of the two men with a companion were close to the spot where the murder was committed at the very moment, and that they were dressed in that fashion, and that no one else had been shown to have been in the brothel quarter in similar costume. We afterwards addressed a letter to the governors demanding the arrest of these two men on the above grounds, but we were not sanguine of obtaining their consent, as it was evident that the government officials were unable to exercise any control over the Tosa people.

Very little progress was made after this, as was natural enough, seeing that the Tosa people were entirely innocent of any share in the murders, as was afterwards proved. On October 6 I had an opportunity of conversing amicably with the vice-governor. I said that the Tosa people tried to throw obstacles in the way of discovering the criminals, instead of courting inquiry in accordance with Prince YÔdÔ's expressed wishes. That the government had lost much ground with foreigners in this affair. Firstly, the possibility of the murder being committed in such a manner showed the incapacity of the government to maintain order, and, secondly, it was not fitting that a body calling itself a government should allow daimiÔs to enjoy such rights of extraterritoriality to the extent that was shown by the recent examinations at the custom-house. The vice-governor replied that he had nothing to do with these matters, to which I rejoined that this was precisely the reason why I had spoken to him about them. We received a refusal to our demand for the arrest of the two Tosa men. A few days later a drunken Englishman was cut about the head and an American wounded slightly in the arm by a Tosa man, who straightway gave himself up to his own authorities, and they reported the affair. Having failed entirely in our attempts to bring the crime home to the Tosa people, Flowers and I agreed that it was useless for me to remain any longer, and accordingly I returned to Yedo, leaving about midnight of the 12th October on board H.M.S. "Coquette," which had been lent by the Admiral to bring me back to Yokohama.

During my stay at Nagasaki we heard a good deal about the discovery and arrest of native Roman Catholic Christians of Urakami, a village near the town. Niiro GiÔbu of Satsuma, who came to see me on the 12th October, said that besides the Urakami people, some of the inhabitants of a village close by, belonging to the daimiÔ of Omura, had been converted, and were now in prison at Nagasaki. According to Japanese law this was a capital offence. The Omura officials had hitherto conformed to the practice of the Nagasaki government with respect to the punishment of criminals, and desired to act accordingly in the present case. It was, however, reported that the governors intended to pardon all those who were willing to abjure, because the number of offenders was so large. This offended the Omura officials, who held that believing in Christianity was a very grave crime; further, that the proposal to let such criminals off on the pretext that they were too numerous to punish was revolutionary and subversive of good government, and they were endeavouring to induce all the daimiÔs of KiÛshiÛ to join in a representation in that sense to the government at Yedo. This proposal was of course intended as a general manifesto against the ShÔgun's government. I replied that he must quite well know that Christianity was not harmful to any country by whose people it was professed, and that even a Protestant government such as that of England would not be pleased to hear of Roman Catholics being persecuted on the ground of their religious belief, but if the only object of the remonstrance was to annoy the ShÔgun's government, we should not disapprove of that by itself. On the general subject of Japanese internal politics, he said he did not believe that civil war would break out, or at least he pretended not to, though at the same time he acknowledged its possibility. Hirayama, to whom I said good-bye on the same day, told me that all the Christians of Urakami had been forgiven on their promising "not to do so again," and that they would be permitted to believe what they liked, doubtless on condition of their not professing their religion openly. He thought the Omura officials would also forgive their Christians. This opinion of his was, however, in contradiction to what I had heard from Niiro.

My stay at Nagasaki afforded me useful opportunities of making the acquaintance of samurai of various southern clans. I have already mentioned my introduction to Kido JunichirÔ.

The 14th I spent almost entirely in the company of Kido and ItÔ. A few days later Kido called to offer me the use of a steamer to Ozaka, if it suited me to return to Yedo by that route, but I deferred accepting, as my plans were not yet settled. Eventually arrangements were made for my being conveyed to Yokohama in one of H.M. ships, so that I was able to decline his obliging proposal. When ItÔ came to say good-bye on September 23, he was accompanied by a young fellow-clansman whom he wished me to take to Yedo, nominally as a pupil. This was Endo KinsukÉ, one of the party of five ChÔshiÛ men to which ItÔ had belonged, who went secretly to England in 1863, as already narrated. He bore the alias of Yamamoto JinsukÉ. ItÔ's pseudonym was Hayashi Uichi, and InouyÉ Bunda went by the name of Takada HarutarÔ. Amongst other interesting information given to me by ItÔ was that my friend Yamagata KeizÔ, who was one of the ChÔshiÛ men that had accompanied me to Yokohama in October 1864, had been adopted by Shishido Bizen. It was his father, Yamagata Taiga, who wrote the pamphlet of which the title translated is the equivalent of "The present daimiÔs are not vassals of the prince," i.e. of the ShÔgun, and not Nagai Uta, to whom it was usually attributed. ItÔ was a pupil of the well-known patriot Yoshida TorajirÔ, the author of several books controverting the views of Yamagata and Nagai. He said there were two schools of Chinese philosophy in Japan, namely, of Teishi (Ch'Êng-tzu) and OyÔmei (Wang Yang-ming), of which the first inculcates the duty of resisting tyrants, the second that of self-reformation. Yamagata belonged to the latter, hence his arguments against any attempt to disturb the existing political arrangements. (But the most widely diffused system in Japan was that of the philosopher Chu Hsi.)

Niiro GiÔbu I saw four times. I dined with him once at a Japanese restaurant, when he said that he knew nothing of the engagement of Frenchmen by Iwashita Sajiemon, a Satsuma man who had gone to Paris for the exposition of 1867, and there came under the influence of the Comte de Montblanc. Directly he heard of it he wrote to Iwashita that the engagements must be cancelled, but his letter did not reach Paris in time. I said that of course we could not object to Satsuma employing Frenchmen, but as French views of Japanese domestic politics differed so widely from ours, and it was well understood that ours coincided to a certain extent with those of Satsuma, it was natural to ask whether this engagement implied a change of policy on the part of the Satsuma clan. Niiro replied that such a supposition would be quite natural, but that in fact no such change had occurred. Since the time when Osumi no Kami (father of the Prince of Satsuma, and virtual ruler of the clan notwithstanding his formal retirement from public life) had decreed the adoption of English methods, the whole province had become enthusiastic in their favour, and objected very strongly to the proposed introduction of Frenchmen. He was afraid he should have to send them home again. A few days later Niiro dined with Russell Robertson (assistant at the consulate) and myself at Robertson's house, when we engaged a French cook to serve the dinner. On this occasion no political conversation took place, but he told us that SaigÔ was Osumi no Kami's confidential man, and Komatsu TatÉwaki one of the seven shussei (administrators) of the Satsuma clan. The prince, whose title was Shiuri no Taiyu, was 29 years of age, and his brother, Shimadzu Dzusho, 28. Altogether there were ten brothers and sisters, besides the three girls of the late prince, Satsuma no Kami. My last talk with Niiro was on October 12, when he gave me information about the native Christians, already recorded.

Last year I had met at Robertson's house a doctor belonging to the KurumÉ clan, and he now came with his son to ask permission to bring some of his fellow clansmen to call on me. This they did on the 8th October. Their names were Imae Sakai, said to be connected with the government of the clan; Nagata ChiÛhei, who was visiting Nagasaki for the first time in his life; and Tanaka KonoyÉ. Originally a KiÔto clockmaker, he had developed into a skilled mechanical engineer, and had constructed engines and boilers for a couple of Japanese steamers. After drinking a bottle of champagne together, we sallied forth to a Japanese restaurant, where we had a little feast in the style of the country, and a great deal of political talk. They said their principal reason for objecting to HiÔgo being opened as a port for foreign trade was that the tea consumed at KurumÉ came from the provinces to the west of HiÔgo, and they feared it would be diverted to that place for exportation. With regard to internal affairs, I said I did not see how they could be settled without a war of some kind or other, as the daimiÔs could not agree among themselves. A civil war might last twenty or thirty years, and greatly impoverish the country, while it would afford an opportunity to foreign powers to appropriate bits of Japanese territory by aiding one party against the other. But a foreign war, in which KiÔto became the object of attack, would lead to the reconciliation of their internal differences, and when peace came to be made we could conclude treaties with the Mikado, in which the constitutional position of the Tycoon might be defined.

Nagata, who was already drunk, shouted out: "You must not attack KiÔto, but destroy the Baku-fu." This was the term, meaning "military power," by which the adversaries of the Tycoon were in the habit of speaking of his government. It appeared from this utterance that the men of KurumÉ shared what was evidently the general feeling in the west of the country. Afterwards we adjourned to another restaurant, where a grand feast was served. More of the KurumÉ clan came in, and the room was gradually filled with courtesans and musicians. Most of my friends got very drunk, so after about two hours of this festivity I left, and the party broke up. I also had a dinner with a Tosa man named Yui, who was captain of the "Yugawo."

Another acquaintance I made was that of Hosokawa RiÔnosukÉ, younger brother of the Prince of Higo, who came to call on Flowers. He had a fat round face, was about 25 years of age, and intelligent. He tried to pump me about the Tosa affair but failed, and when he proceeded to talk politics I held my tongue, for Higo was supposed not to belong to the Satsuma party. He then invited me to visit him on board his steamer and have a long conversation, but when I went at the appointed hour on the following day he was absent. However, next day two of his men called to apologize for his breaking the engagement, and he also appeared in person to tell me of the desire cherished by the Higo people to invite Sir Harry Keppel, the Admiral in command of the China squadron, to some point off their coast to display naval evolutions; for the clan having ordered an iron-clad man-of-war and two smaller war steamers to be built in England, wanted to learn how they should be manoeuvred. He was at great pains to prove that he was on the best of terms with Kido (alias Katsura), and that the Hosokawa brothers loved the English more than they did any other nation, for all their steamers, besides 16,000 rifles of different patterns, had been bought from us. I replied that their inviting the Admiral to a place off their coast and not to the castle at Kumamoto, was like sending for a troupe of tumblers to perform before one's house, into which one would not care to admit them. If a man were prevented from inviting a guest to his own house, it would be more courteous to go and call on him than to ask him to come half-way, and that RiÔnosukÉ at least ought to come to Nagasaki and visit the Admiral first of all. He said he intended going to ShimonosÉki with one of the Higo karÔ (councillor) to arrange an alliance between Higo and ChÔshiÛ.

Endo presented himself on the 12th, but instead of coming straight to me, he sent in his card by my Aidzu retainer Noguchi, who read it and at once discovered who he was. We embarked in the course of the evening, and steamed out of the harbour at eleven p.m. through the inland sea, and without calling anywhere, arrived at Yokohama at midnight on the 16th.

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