RETURN TO YEDO AND PRESENTATION OF THE MINISTER'S NEW CREDENTIALS AT OZAKA

On March 31 I arrived back at Yokohama with the chief, and went up to Yedo on April 1 to find out what was the state of things there. I took Noguchi and my six Japanese escort men with me. The latter were lodged in a building by the gate of my house. My chief source of information was Katsu Awa no Kami who had been the head of the Tokugawa navy. To avoid exciting attention I used to visit him after dark. The van of the imperialist army had already arrived in the neighbourhood of Yedo, the advanced posts being at Shinagawa, Shinjiku and Itabashi. Slight skirmishes with detached bodies of disbanded Yedo troops had taken place on the KÔshiÛ and KisÔ roads, which had delayed the arrival of the imperial forces for a day or two. Small parties of Satsuma and ChÔshiÛ men wandered about the streets of the city unmolested, and a smaller Satsuma yashiki, near our legation, was re-occupied on March 7 by a few soldiers of that clan. Arisugawa no Miya, the commander-in-chief, was reported to be still at Numadzu, half a day's journey west of the top of the HakonÉ pass. Keiki was residing in retirement at the Tokugawa mausoleum of UyÉno, straining every effort to keep his retainers in a submissive temper towards the Mikado, by means of notifications to the people and a body of armed police. Already as early as March 4 a proclamation had been issued declaring that the ex-ShÔgun was determined to submit to any orders which might be given to him by the Mikado, and that no opposition was to be offered to the imperial troops. Aidzu and his clansmen had retired to their home at Wakamatsu in OshiÛ, after dismantling all the clan establishments in Yedo. Nearly all the other daimiÔs who had been residing in Yedo until recently had either returned to their territories or gone to KiÔto to give in their allegiance to the Mikado. The hatamoto, or retainers of Tokugawa below the rank of daimiÔ were daily following their example. The people of the city, ignorant of the demands about to be made on Keiki, and mindful of the misfortunes some of them had experienced when the Satsuma yashiki were attacked in the previous December, were apprehensive of a general conflagration. Some had removed their household property, but the shops were still open, and the panic was by no means general. The forts in the bay of Yedo were handed over to the imperialists on April 4, after the guns bearing on the city had been dismounted. This was the news on the 8th. On the 12th I went up again for a three days' stay, and found the city much quieter, owing to a feeling that the terms offered to Keiki would be such as he could accept. Katsu, who was now commander-in-chief of the Tokugawa forces, told me that he and Okubo IchiÔ had charge of the negotiations. On the other side SaigÔ represented Arisugawa no Miya, the imperialist commander-in-chief who was still at Sumpu. The demands made on Keiki were that he should surrender all arms and munitions of war, all vessels of war and other steamers, evacuate the castle of Yedo, and execute those of his officers who had been foremost in prompting and conducting the attack on Fushimi; when these demands were complied with the Mikado would show clemency towards the ex-ShÔgun. The nature of the further conditions covered by the word "clemency" was the subject of negotiations between Katsu and SaigÔ, which took place at a house in Shinagawa. Katsu was willing to agree to any arrangement that would save the life of his chief and secure sufficient revenue to support his large body of retainers. He had hinted to SaigÔ that less favourable terms would be met by armed resistance. Keiki also desired to retain possession of his steamers and munitions of war, and had addressed a petition to the Mikado on this subject. SaigÔ, carrying this petition and Katsu's verbal proposals, had returned to Sumpu to lay them before Arisugawa. From there he had journeyed to KiÔto, but was expected back on the 18th. Katsu said he was ready to fight in defence of Keiki's life, and expressed his confidence in SaigÔ's ability to prevent a demand being made which might not only be a disgrace to the Mikado, but prolong the civil war. He begged that Sir Harry Parkes would use his influence with the Mikado's government to obviate such a disaster. This the chief did repeatedly, and in particular when SaigÔ called on him at Yokohama on April 28, he urged on him that severity towards Keiki or his supporters, especially in the way of personal punishment, would injure the reputation of the new government in the opinion of European Powers. SaigÔ said the life of the ex-ShÔgun would not be demanded, and he hoped that similar leniency would be extended to those who had instigated him to march against KiÔto. Keiki was still at the monastery at UyÉno, but some of his late advisers, whom he had ordered into strict seclusion (kin-shin) had secretly fled. Amongst these Katsu mentioned Ogasawara, late chief minister for Foreign Affairs, Hirayama, whom we used to call "the old fox," Tsukahara, an official whom we greatly liked, and Oguri KÔdzukÉ no SukÉ, a finance minister. The most remarkable statement Katsu made to me was that at a conference between the ex-ShÔgun's ministers and M. Roches in February the latter strongly urged resistance, and that the officers of the French Military Mission were persistent in advising the fortification of the HakonÉ pass and other measures of a warlike nature. On the whole Katsu was of opinion that he and Okubo IchiÔ would be able to arrange satisfactory terms, if they could manage to escape the hot-heads of their own party who were threatening their lives.

By this time the first division of the imperialist naval force had arrived to co-operate with the army which had advanced by land. There seemed to be little likelihood of fighting, but even a peaceable settlement would be disadvantageous to the prosperity of the city. Now that the daimiÔs whose wants had been supplied by the merchants and shopkeepers had left for their country homes, the population would naturally decrease. It was a sad thing that Yedo should decline, for it was one of the handsomest cities in the Far East. Though it contained no fine public buildings, its position on the seashore, fringed with the pleasure gardens of the daimiÔs, and the remarkable huge moats surrounding the castle, crowned with cyclopean walls and shaded by picturesque lines of pine-tree, the numerous rural spots in the city itself, all contributed to produce an impression of greatness. It covered a huge extent of ground, owing to the size of the castle, and the large number of official residences, intersected by fine broad well-gravelled streets. The commercial quarter was actually smaller than the city of Ozaka.

Newspapers, to a large extent in the nature of gazettes, had lately been started in KiÔto and Yedo, and contained a great number of interesting political documents, which I had to translate for the information of my chief. Previously we had been obliged to rely on such manuscript copies as we could obtain from our friends in daimiÔs' yashikis, and the supply was limited. Nor were the papers that came into our hands altogether trustworthy. There was as much forgery of memorials, manifestoes and correspondence as in any other part of the world in a time of political excitement. There were rumours about this time that the capital would be transferred from KiÔto to Ozaka, an arrangement we felt inclined to welcome, for it would have been very inconvenient to establish the foreign legations at KiÔto, so far inland and away from our sources of supply, subject to great cold in winter and excessive heat in summer. Even at Ozaka, close to the sea, the climate was almost unbearable in July and August. But as everyone knows, Yedo was after all constituted the centre of government, and its name changed to TÔkiÔ.

During this period my time was passed half at Yedo gathering information and half at Yokohama making translations and drawing up reports. Bread and beef were unprocurable at Yedo, and I could not afford to set up a cuisine in European fashion, so while there I used to have my food brought in from a well-reputed Japanese restaurant close by, and came to like it quite as well as what I had been accustomed to all my life.

As early as the end of November 1867 Sir Harry had applied to Lord Stanley for letters of credence to the Mikado. No time was wasted in their preparation and despatch, and they reached him at the end of March 1868, but it was not till the middle of May that things had quieted down at Yokohama sufficiently to allow of his leaving that part of the country. By that time Sidney Locock and his family had left for home, and his successor Francis Ottiwell Adams had arrived. We started from Yokohama in the Admiral's yacht "Salamis" on May 15, Sir Harry, Adams, J. J. Quin the senior student interpreter, and myself. Next afternoon we anchored in the harbour of Oshima, between the island of that name and the southernmost point of the province of Kii. On a neck of land there was a small village, very dirty, stinking and labyrinthine, surrounded by prettily wooded hills, where we started several pheasants in the course of a walk. At dusk we weighed anchor, and reached HiÔgo at nine o'clock the next morning, where we found H.M.S. "Ocean" and "Zebra" already in harbour. We had passed H.M.S. "Rodney," the flagship of Admiral Sir Harry Keppel, on the way up the Kii channel. These ships were assembled off Ozaka to give Éclat to the presentation of the first letter of an European sovereign to the rightful sovereign of Japan. We got to the Ozaka bar about noon, and afterwards Adams, Quin and I went ashore with the baggage. The chief did not land until the 18th, when a salute was fired from the fort in his honour. We then became busily occupied with the arrangements for the presentation of the minister's credentials, of his staff and a large number of naval officers. We took up our quarters at the vice-consulate for the sake of convenience in communicating with the squadron outside the bar. The 22nd was fixed on as the day for the ceremony. Then the credentials had to be translated into Japanese, and the number of officers to be presented had to be agreed upon. I had to be present, much to my annoyance, for I possessed no diplomatic uniform. The chief offered me the loan of a sort of staff jacket of blue serge fastened in front with frogs, and an old pair of trousers with gold lace down the sides, but I put them away in a cupboard and went to Court in plain evening dress. As soon as Sir Harry landed he was visited by GotÔ, one of the two samurai who had fought in our defence at KiÔto on the 23rd March, and by DatÉ. With the latter we had a discussion about the recently published edict against Christianity; it revived the ancient prohibition, but in less stringent terms. DatÉ admitted that the wording was objectionable, and said that he had caused it not to be exhibited on the public notice-boards at Ozaka and HiÔgo. He had tried to get the expression (translated "evil" or "pernicious" sect) altered, but said it would be impossible to suppress the proscription of Christianity altogether. Sir Harry responded that religious toleration was a mark of civilization, and to us he said privately that the presentation of the Queen's letter was a good opportunity which we ought to turn to account. Afterwards I had a long talk with Nakai on this subject, and suggested that instead of specifically mentioning Christianity the decree should merely forbid "pernicious sects" in general. It was clear that the Japanese Government would not be induced to revoke the law completely, for that would be to give a free hand to the Roman Catholic missionaries at Nagasaki, who had already made themselves obnoxious by the active manner in which they had carried on their proselytism. It was however agreed that Sir Harry should meet SanjÔ, DatÉ, GotÔ and Kido on the following day to dispose, if possible, of this question, but Nakai warned me that not even the heads of the government (sÔsai) could make a definite promise; they were not absolute, as he said. So on the 19th we had a palaver at the Nishi Hongwanji, at which Yamashina no Miya, the president of the Foreign Board, was present, besides those already mentioned, and several more. They defended what had been done on the ground that the hostility to Christianity was still intense, and that in popular opinion it was allied to magic or sorcery. This I knew myself to be a fact. I had once been asked by a Japanese to teach him "Kiristan," which he believed would enable him to discover what his wife was doing in his absence from the house. They admitted however that an error had been committed in describing Christianity as a pernicious sect, and said that this wording would be altered. To have published nothing would have been tantamount to toleration, "silent approval" as the Japanese expression goes, and upon this they could not venture. On the 24th Sir Harry recurred to the subject with the same set of ministers, with whom Iwakura was joined. Perhaps it was on this occasion that a young samurai of Hizen, Okuma HachitarÔ, whom we had not met before, assured us that he knew all about the subject, for he had read the Bible and the "Prairie-book." It appeared that he had been a pupil of Dr Verbeck, an American missionary at Nagasaki. Sir Harry gave them a copy and a Japanese version of a despatch on this subject, which had been received from Lord Stanley. The other foreign diplomats took the same line, but their united remonstrances produced little effect, and the measure of exiling to other parts of the country some four thousand Japanese of all ages and both sexes mostly from the village of Urakami near Nagasaki, was unflinchingly carried out.

The presentation of the minister's letters of credence took place on the 22nd. Admiral Keppel landed in the morning accompanied by his flag-Captain Heneage, and Captain Stanhope of the "Ocean"; Commander Pollard and Lieutenant Kerr in command of a gunboat; Pusey, commander of the "Salamis"; his secretary William Risk, and Garnier, flag-lieutenant, and joined us at the vice-consulate. The legation party included the chief, Adams, Mitford, who had just been gazetted second secretary, and myself. Our procession consisted of a hundred marines from H.M.S. "Rodney" and the same number from H.M.S. "Ocean," twelve palanquins in which such of us rode as had legs flexible enough, four of the legation escort on foot, and two bodies of Japanese troops who preceded and followed us. We arrived punctually at one o'clock at the Nishi Hongwanji, assigned for the performance of the ceremony. The theory of the Mikado's presence at Ozaka was that he was at the head of the army operating from KiÔto against the rebellious Tokugawa chief at Yedo, and he was therefore obliged to put up with such accommodation as he could find in the Buddhist monasteries, which were not very imperial in their appointments. We were ushered into an ante-chamber which was merely a part of the hall of audience divided off by screens. Down the middle ran a long table covered with cloth of gold, about the only piece of splendour in the place; on one side of this we took our seats, the Japanese ministers for Foreign Affairs on the other. Tea, and sweetmeats piled on wooden trays were brought in for our refection, and we had to wait about half-an-hour before the chief of the ministry entered the room and made the polite speeches necessary on such an occasion. In a few minutes more we were informed that everything was ready, whereupon the second and third ministers proceeded to usher us into the throne room. This was an apartment of considerable size down each side of which there ran a row of wooden pillars supporting the roof. On a dais at the extreme end sat the Mikado, under a canopy supported by black-lacquered poles, and with the blinds rolled up as high as was possible. We advanced up the middle of the room in double column, the one on the right headed by the Admiral and composed of naval officers, the other headed by the minister, and consisting of the legation staff. Everyone made three bows, first on advancing into the middle of the room, the second at the foot of the dais, the third on mounting the dais, which was large enough to afford place for us all. The Mikado rose and stood under the canopy from the moment that we began to bow. The principal minister for Foreign Affairs and one other great personage knelt, one on each side of the throne.

In front of the throne, on each side, stood a small wooden image of a lion; these are of great antiquity and are much revered by the Japanese people. Behind the throne a crowd of courtiers were ranged in a double row, wearing little black paper caps and gorgeous brocade robes of various hues. As the Mikado stood up, the upper part of his face, including the eyes, became hidden from view, but I saw the whole of it whenever he moved. His complexion was white, perhaps artificially so rendered, his mouth badly formed, what a doctor would call prognathous, but the general contour was good. His eyebrows were shaven off, and painted in an inch higher up. His costume consisted of a long black loose cape hanging backwards, a white upper garment or mantle and voluminous purple trousers. The proceedings were as follows: the minister stood in front of the Mikado's right, with the Legation behind him in order of seniority, the Admiral with his personal staff and the other naval officers on the imperial left. Sir Harry then recited his address, which he had got by heart; it seemed truly absurd when one at last stood face to face with the recipient. Then ItÔ, who discharged the functions of interpreter on the occasion, read the translation, and we all bowed. Sir Harry stepping forward put the Queen's letter into the hand of the Mikado, who evidently felt bashful or timid, and had to be assisted by Yamashina no Miya; his part was to receive it from the Mikado. Then His Majesty forgot his speech, but catching a word from the personage on his left managed to get out the first sentence, whereupon ItÔ read out the translation of the whole that had been prepared beforehand. Sir Harry then introduced each of us in turn, and next the Admiral, who presented his officers. The Mikado expressed the hope that all was well with the squadron under his command, and we retired backwards out of the presence into the ante-chamber, bowing as we went, and congratulating ourselves that everything had passed off without a hitch. In the evening we went to dine with DatÉ, who gave us a banquet cooked as nearly in European fashion as he could manage. Next day we celebrated the Queen's birthday in advance by firing salutes, and a large party of Japanese nobles went on board the "Rodney" to lunch with the Admiral. Yamashina no Miya proposed the Queen's health, which was responded to enthusiastically by everyone present. Many of the guests were intelligent and well behaved, but the Prince of ChÔshiÛ, who insisted on my sitting next to him, behaved like a great baby, and drank more champagne than was good for him. One felt however that Japanese princes could not be blamed if they were weak-minded, their education being planned so as to produce that result. The son of the Mikado's maternal uncle was possessed with a huge desire to see an European cat, while another great man wanted to get sight of a negro, and we had great difficulty in satisfying their wishes. The principal minister for Foreign Affairs, who had of course to be saluted, desired that as little powder as possible should be used, because the sound of a violent explosion hurt his ears. One of the great attractions was the "Rodney's" band, which played a great deal of noisy music for the benefit of the Admiral's guests, and the bandmaster of the "Ocean" gained great applause by composing a march and a Japanese national anthem, which he dedicated to the Mikado. The conference held at Ozaka on the following day (a Sunday), at which among other things the Christian question was discussed, lasted for six hours, and that meant six hours for me of interpreting from English into Japanese and from Japanese into English. So it was a certain amount of relief to me when on the 25th we reembarked on board the "Salamis" to return to Yokohama. The Mikado left Ozaka on the 28th and returned to KiÔto, the submission of the ex-Tycoon being held to justify this step.