by Donald Keene
The new year, 1874, opened with an innovation: for the first time, the empress joined the emperor in worship. On January 4 the emperor attended the shōin and listened to various reports and proposals. Even when most given to drink, the emperor never neglected what he conceived to be his duties, such as attending these sessions. During 1874 he attended the shōin on more than forty occasions. He also continued to hear lectures delivered by his various tutors. The empress attended the lectures with him. It was planned to have Meiji continue his German lessons, but he disliked them so much that they were discontinued. If he had persisted and actually learned German, it (rather than English) might have become the second language of the Japanese court.
On January 13, 1874, when Iwakura Tomomi was returning in his carriage from the palace where he had dined with the emperor, he was attacked and wounded at Akasaka by some eight or nine assailants. He escaped from the carriage only to fall into the moat from which he crawled up to some bushes on the bank where he hid. In the meantime, the sounds of approaching people frightened away the assailants.15
The emperor and empress, shocked to learn of the attack, went to the Imperial Household Ministry where Iwakura was being treated for his wounds. The emperor commanded that he be moved to the palace. When he was informed on January 17 that the culprits had not yet been apprehended, the emperor sent for Sanjō Sanetomi, Ōkubo Toshimichi, and Ōki Takatō and, stressing the gravity of the incident, demanded to know why the assailants were still at large.
That night five of the assailants were arrested, followed by the remaining four. They all were samurai from Kōchi Prefecture, followers of Itagaki Taisuke who were enraged with Iwakura for having prevented Itagaki and Saigō Takamori from carrying out their plan of conquering Korea. They had decided to get rid of Iwakura in the hopes of changing court policy. On July 9 sentence was passed on the would-be assassins: they were to be deprived of their status as samurai and beheaded.16
The Korean crisis in the narrow sense had ended by October 1873, but the issue continued to agitate many members of the samurai class. Most samurai had yet to find employment under the new regime, and their economic difficulties compounded the anger they felt over the failure to avenge the supposed insult of a foreign country. A war with Korea might have solved their financial problems and even have ended the mutual enmity that divided the major domains, but deprived of this solution, many samurai became rebellious.
As early as February 1874 there were signs of rebellion among the samurai of Saga Prefecture. Some formed a political party that opposed the government’s efforts at modernization and advocated a return to the feudal system, including the policy of jōi. It insisted on the importance of strengthening the military. The conquest of Korea, they said, should be delayed until this was achieved; but once internal divisions were ended and the country was strong again, Japan should attack not only Korea but also China, Russia, and Germany.17 Most of those affiliated with this party were men in their forties or fifties who nostalgically recalled the old days of the shogunate.
The other important party in Saga,18 the Seikan-tō, was composed mainly of men in their twenties and thirties who in general favored the changes effected by the new regime but resented its failure to send an envoy to Korea, as the majority of the councillors had voted. As a first step, the Seikan-tō advocated implementing this decision, but its ultimate aim was the conquest of Korea. The two parties, though diametrically opposed in many points of view, were alike in that their prime concern was the predicament of the samurai class at a time when there seemed to be no alternative solution to their unhappy idleness. Both groups actively recruited new members and, from the beginning of 1874, began stocking weapons and provisions in preparation for war. The Seikan-tō, whose strength in Saga was only some 2,000 men, revealed that it had allies among the samurai of Kagoshima, Kōchi, and elsewhere.
Although he had resigned his post as sangi, Etō Shimpei remained in Tōkyō, under orders to continue serving the government. Despite his defeat on the issue of Korea, he continued to work on behalf of programs he had initiated as minister of justice. He had lost none of the energy that had enabled him to rise from the humblest ranks of the samurai class to the eminence of a sangi. Etō, who consistently advocated the creation of a parliament and insisted on the need to respect basic human rights, was one of the signers of a petition submitted to the Sa’in on January 17 calling for the popular election of a legislative body.19 But on January 13, four days before the petition was submitted, he suddenly left Tōkyō for Saga, in defiance of governmental orders. He was responding to the request of members of the Seikan-tō that he become their leader. The decision to accept, made despite the warnings of friends in Tōkyō,20 led irrevocably to his tragic end. It is difficult to understand why a man of his intelligence and enlightened views associated himself with an ill-conceived movement that could only end in disaster.21
Etō told Itagaki Taisuke and Gotō Shōjirō that he was returning to Saga in order to calm the hotheads of the Seikan-tō; but some sources say that he privately informed an acquaintance that he believed the time had come for a second “restoration.”22 Probably he did not envision at first an out-and-out revolt against the government, but the belligerence of the partisans of war with Korea reached feverish intensity with the arrival of Etō, and this may have affected him.
Alarmed by reports of the situation in Saga, coming on the heels of the attempted assassination of Iwakura, Ōkubo decided to replace the governor of Saga with a henchman, Iwamura Takatoshi (1840–1915), commanding him to restore order. Iwamura, an overbearing, incompetent man who knew nothing about the situation in Saga, was the worst possible choice, and he exacerbated the situation by accidentally making a dangerous enemy. By chance he had as his fellow passenger on the ship taking him to Saga, Shima Yoshitake (1822–1874), a Saga samurai who had served as a chamberlain and later as governor of Akita Prefecture. Shima was traveling to Saga at the request of Sanjō Sanetomi, who had urged him to help calm the situation there. In the course of shipboard conversations with Iwamura, however, Shima became so annoyed by Iwamura’s nasty comments about Saga men and his prediction that it would take him only one sweep of his net to catch all the rebels, that he decided to join Etō to protect Saga from the new governor.23
Ōkubo received repeated warnings of imminent conflict in Saga. He felt that it was incumbent on him to suppress the disturbance as quickly as possible and decided to go to Kyūshū to see to it personally that effective measures were taken. On February 10, four days before his departure, Ōkubo was invited to dinner by the emperor, and three days later the emperor received him in an audience at which he expressed his concern.
That same day, after conferring with members of the Seikan-tō, Etō issued a statement saying that if Japan did not punish Korea for its reckless behavior and disrespect, it risked losing its national authority. Tolerating such insults would also make Japan the object of other countries’ contempt. For the sake of the emperor and countless millions of Japanese, he and his party had sworn to wipe out the disgrace even at the cost of their lives. They had learned that the government was sending troops against them and therefore had no choice but to open hostilities, looking for inspiration to the example of Chōshū, which had successfully fought a war against the shogunate.24
On the following day, February 14, Etō finally made up his mind to attack the government forces in Saga Castle and form a new government. He seems to have believed that he would be joined by disaffected samurai from Satsuma and Tosa,25 but the only help the Seikan-tō would receive came from Shima and his party.
The attack began at dawn on February 16. The rebels’ first objective was the prefectural office inside the grounds of the old Saga Castle. The government forces inside, few in numbers and badly equipped, held out until February 18, when they managed to break through the cordon surrounding the castle and escape to Chikugo, leaving many casualties behind.
This was the Saga forces’ only victory during t
he rebellion. Etō soon realized that he had gravely miscalculated in expecting that men from Satsuma and Tosa would join him once the fighting started.26 On February 17 Sanjō Sanetomi issued a bulletin to commanding officers in which he asserted that despite the Saga rebels’ attempts to win adherents in other prefectures for their policy of attacking Korea, they had been completely unsuccessful. Even Kagoshima had remained calm, and although rumors of an uprising in Tosa (another hotbed of antigovernment sentiment) had circulated, they were without foundation.
On February 19 Ōkubo arrived in Hakata, where he made his headquarters, and issued a proclamation calling for the destruction of the Saga rebels. On the twentieth, government forces advanced into Saga Prefecture and, after a battle on the twenty-second near the border between Fukuoka and Saga, broke through the defense lines of the rebel army. On the twenty-third, deciding that further resistance would only increase the number of victims, Etō told his supporters that he had disbanded the army of the Seikan-tō.27 He said that he was going to Kagoshima to get help. If he failed in Kagoshima, he would go to Tosa, and if he failed there, he had another plan (which he did not reveal). That night he escaped with seven of his supporters in a fishing boat, heading for Kagoshima in order to ask Saigō Takamori’s help in staging another revolt.
The morale of the Saga rebels was greatly weakened by Etō’s flight, but they continued their resistance. The most violent fighting of the war took place on February 27, when the government forces were again victorious. The following night Shima, who had declared that he intended to die in Saga Castle, fled with some of his staff to Kagoshima. He had refused to make the declaration of surrender demanded by the government army. The government forces entered Saga Castle on March 1 without bloodshed. Although exchanges of gunfire continued sporadically, by the time Prince Higashifushimi, appointed by the emperor as the commander in chief of the expeditionary forces, arrived on the scene, the rebel resistance had ended. On March 3 Ōkubo, who had arrived in Saga two days earlier, sent a telegram to the Shōin announcing the pacification of the rebels.28
On March 1 a search warrant for the arrest of Etō and Shima was issued, giving details of their physical appearance.29 It was ironic that Etō, who had organized the police, was now being hunted by them. Sympathy was expressed for the fugitives even in the highest circles. Sanjō wrote to Ōkubo on behalf of Shima, admitting that he had taken part in a rebellion but calling attention to his achievements as a devoted loyalist and insisting that he was not an evil schemer. On April 5 after Etō had been captured, Kido proposed to Sanjō that as a convinced believer in action against Korea, Etō should be sent to the front in Taiwan.30
Etō’s party of fugitives landed in Kagoshima on February 27. They called on Saigō the next day but learned that he was at Unagi Hot Springs. Etō went there on March 1. The two men spoke privately for three hours. About nine that evening, Etō left but returned the next day. This time the conversation between the two men continued for about four hours, sometimes rising to such intensity that their voices could be heard outside. The content of the discussion was not disclosed, but it seems likely that Saigō refused to commit himself to supporting Etō either at this time (when the defeat of the Saga rebels was evident) or at any foreseeable time in the future. He may have stated that because he was no longer in the government, Etō should seek help not from himself but from Shimazu Hisamitsu, an adviser to the cabinet. Shimazu, however, had received on February 2 a command from the emperor directing him to make sure that Saigō did not support the Saga rebels.31
On March 3 Etō left Kagoshima, once again by fishing boat. The sea was rough, and he and his small party could get only as far as Sakurajima that night. The next day they visited Ogura Shohei (1846–1877) at Obi. Ogura, only recently returned from study abroad, was an advocate of war with Korea and welcomed the fugitives, hiding them nearby. (He was later to serve a sentence of seventy days for this kindness.)32
On March 10 the nine men left for Tosa aboard a fishing boat that Ogura had hired for them, eluding the police on their trail. The journey that followed on sea and land was marked by danger and physical strain. When Etō at last reached Kōchi and met Hayashi Yūdzō (1813–1899), whose support he had counted on, he was treated coldly, no doubt because Hayashi knew how close the pursuers were. Etō left Kōchi that night, reluctant to involve Hayashi in his guilt, and wandered in the mountains for three nights in the cold and rain. Etō himself said that never since he issued from his mother’s womb had he suffered such hardship.33
Etō seems to have hoped somehow to make his way to Tōkyō, where he would disclose the true story of the Saga rebellion to his former associates. If they found him guilty, he planned to turn his sword on himself.34 On March 28 he emerged from the mountains near the border between Tosa and Awa at Kōnoura, a village by the sea. He hoped to find a boat that would take him to Tōkyō, but he was detected by an alert guard, who asked to see his papers. Etō at first pretended to be a merchant from ōsaka but soon changed his story and claimed to be a secret agent sent from Tōkyō to find the men responsible for the attack on Iwakura Tomomi. He asked his captor to deliver a sealed letter he had written to Iwakura. The letter, dated March 27, stated that he had been prevented by the strictness of security measures in Tosa from going to Tōkyō and asked Iwakura to give orders that would permit him to proceed to Tōkyō.35
A police officer opened the letter and discovered inside Etō’s real name. He knew for certain now the man he had captured was wanted by the police but did not know what procedures to follow in arresting someone who until lately had been a councillor. Finally he invited Etō to play a game of go with him at another house, leaving Etō’s two companions behind. Etō took the white stones; the officer, the black. After each put down one stone on the board, the officer, putting down a second black stone, suddenly shouted, “Etō-dono, Etō-dono,” the signal for armed men in the next room to burst in with the cry, “Sir Etō, we have the honor to arrest you.”36 The language they used when making the arrest was comically polite, but all the same, they bound Etō with ropes, like a common criminal. He did not resist.
Etō was treated with kindness by his captors, who purposely allowed the journey to Kōchi, which normally took three days, to last five, perhaps foreseeing that his life had not much longer to run. From Kōchi, he and his two companions were taken by warship and then overland to Saga, arriving on April 4. They were thrown into a hastily built prison.
The trial of Etō, Shima,37 and others who had participated in the Saga rebellion began on April 8 and was over the next day. The incredible haste was dictated by Ōkubo’s impatience to have the proceedings terminated as soon as possible. It was obvious from the start that Etō and the others would be found guilty. The presiding judge, Kōno Togama (1844–1895), had been a protégé of Etō, who had appointed him to his office, but during the trial he addressed Etō with such brutality that at one point Etō cried out, “Togama—how dare you appear before me?”38 Kōno is said to have hung his head in reply, but the sentence he pronounced on April 13 was harsh, especially considering that there were no precedents in either the old penal code or the new one (devised by Etō) for punishing people who staged rebellions; the crime seems not to have been anticipated. Kōno turned to Chinese law when passing sentence. Etō and Shima would be deprived of their status as samurai and beheaded, and their heads exposed afterward. Other leaders were also to be decapitated, but they would be spared the humiliating public exposure of their heads.
When Etō heard the sentence, he attempted to address the judge, but he was dragged from the courtroom before he could finish. He was executed the same day. Decapitation was normally the work of outcasts, but Prince Higashifushimi, the commander in chief, considered that it was a breach of decorum to allow an outcast to execute men of Etō’s and Shima’s caliber, and they were beheaded instead by a samurai. Etō’s final poem, composed immediately before his death, was
masurao no A warrior even
nam
ida wo sode ni While wringing his tears
shiboritsutsu Into his sleeves
mayou kokoro wa Feels his heart waver
tada kimi ga tame Only with thoughts of his lord.
Etō’s head was exposed for three days. He was forty when he died. It had been exactly three months since he had left Tōkyō on his ill-fated journey to Saga.
In his diary entry for April 13 Ōkubo expressed his satisfaction with the outcome of the trial: “Today everything has concluded satisfactorily. I felt great relief.” There was no trace of pity for Etō. Ōkubo wrote, “Etō’s disgraceful behavior was shocking,” referring perhaps to Etō’s final outburst before being dragged from the court. Photographs taken of Etō’s severed head for a time were on sale in Tōkyō, but on May 27 the Tōkyō prefectural government ordered everyone who had purchased a photograph to return it to the seller. However, Ōkubo is said to have hung such a photograph in the reception room of the Interior Ministry.39
There is no evidence concerning the emperor’s reactions to the trial and death of Etō. Perhaps he was more concerned at this time with developments in Taiwan than in the crushed Saga rebellion. Ever since June 1873 when Soejima Taneomi had met with Chinese statesmen to discuss the appropriate punishment for the Taiwanese natives who had killed Okinawan subjects of the emperor, the issue had been hanging fire. In January 1874 Ōkubo and Ōkuma prepared a report on the situation. Their conclusion was that in view of the Chinese government’s declaration that the territory of the uncivilized natives did not belong to any country, it was incumbent on the Japanese government to retaliate for the outrage done to its subjects.
On February 6 the ministers and councillors accepted this conclusion, but Kido did not attend the meeting, an indication that he was still opposed to any form of foreign intervention.40 In March, Ōkuma Shigenobu, Councillor and Foreign Minister Terashima Munenori, Minister Plenipotentiary to China Ya-nagihara Sakimitsu, and Army Minister Saigō Tsugumichi (1843–1902) met at ōkuma’s house to discuss the proposed campaign against the Taiwan savages. Their report called for troops to leave Kumamoto on March 18 for Taiwan. The plan was not put into effect, but on April 3 Meiji summoned Ōkuma and asked for details. By this time the Saga rebellion had been completely suppressed and the government was in a position to take military action against Taiwan.
