LAST DAYS IN TOKIO AND DEPARTURE FOR HOME A week before this Iwakura had sent me a present of a beautiful lacquered cabinet by way of thanks for the trouble he said I had taken in interpreting for him on various occasions, and on January 28th when I returned to Yedo I found a letter from SamÉshima SeizÔ with presents from the Prince of Satsuma, Okubo, Yoshii and himself. The letter said: "Prince Satsuma wishes me to give you his thanks for your kindness and the trouble you have hitherto taken for his sake. He presents you the two boxes, and the rest, though a little, Okubo, Ioxy and myself present you merely to thank you for your kindness. We hope you will always keep them as our memorial." The prince's present consisted of a silver boat in the form of a peacock (called Takara-bunÉ, or Ship of Treasures) and the lacquered stand, besides two rolls of white silk; Yoshii sent two pieces of Kiyo-midzu porcelain, and each of the others two pieces of white satin brocade. The spelling Ioxy, which is in accordance with ancient Portuguese orthography of Japanese names, shows that this letter came in English. My translation of the sentences of the northern daimiÔs was published in the "Japan Herald" of January 30. This state paper completed the discomfiture of the som-bak-ka diplomats, the term invented by the Japanese for application to the foreign ministers who supported the cause of the ShÔgunate as far as was possible for them. February 11 was the Japanese New Year's Day, which I passed at Yedo. Rice-cakes (mochi) had been prepared and decorated in proper fashion with a Seville orange and fern, and dried fronds had also been hung up in the alcove (toko no ma) of my study. Silk cushions had been provided for a guest and myself to sit on as we ate our zÔni. This is a soup in which pieces of fried mochi are soaked; on the first day of the year one is eaten, on the second two, on the third three. A New Year's drink called toso was also provided; this is a Alexander Siebold, who had been in France with Mimbu Taiyu, had at last arrived back in Japan, releasing me from the duties that had kept me two years longer than provided by the existing rules about leave of absence. On February 14 he and I went to call on Katsu, who had been such a valuable source of political information ever since the downfall of the ShÔgunate. Katsu thought the Tokugawa rebels at HakodatÉ would give in their submission. At parting he gave me his wakizashi (short sword), and we separated with many mutual expressions of regret. He was quartered in an outhouse at the Ki-shiÛ yashiki, where old TakÉnouchi, a Ki-shiÛ retainer who had been our purveyor of news and papers current among the daimiÔ yashikis, was also living; we had to go into his rooms and drink a cup of tea; there I found the secretary of DatÉ GorÔ, a distinguished Ki-shiÛ official, to whom I sent my farewell compliments. We got back to my house just in time to rush off again, to a dinner at the hotel, given by Higashi-KuzÉ in honour of my departure. Besides Mitford, Siebold and myself, the other guests were the Prince of Bizen, the Court Noble Ohara JijiÛ, Kido, Machida, Mori (afterwards known as Mori Arinori), Kanda KÔhei Next day I left Yedo for good. As I passed the entrance to the barracks of the Legation mounted escort of London policemen, Inspector Peacock and the men came out to wish me a pleasant journey. Noguchi, Mitford's teacher Nagazawa and four of my Japanese guard came down the road as far as MmÉ-yashiki, where we had a parting cup. Higashi-KuzÉ sent me a complimentary letter, regretting my departure, and presenting me with a big lacquered cabinet as a mark of the Mikado's appreciation of all I had done to smooth diplomatic On the 24th February I sailed from Yokohama in the P. and O. steamer "Ottawa," 814 tons, master Edmond. Lady Parkes also was on board on her way to England, and the English community paid her the compliment of sending out a band, which played "Home, sweet home" as the anchor was weighed. I felt the tears come into my eyes. It would be hard to say whether they were caused by the emotion that a much-loved piece of music always produces, or by regret at leaving a country where I had lived so happily for six years and a half. With me I had my faithful Aidzu samurai, Noguchi TomizÔ. |