by Donald Keene
On October 23, the day before the battle in Kumamoto, the Shinpūren sent a messenger to the former Akizuki domain in Fukuoka prefecture to inform disgruntled samurai of the planned uprising and to ask them to join the revolt. The Akizuki samurai, angered by the government’s refusal to take Shimazu Hisamitsu’s advice and halt the increasing Westernization of the country, had been in secret communication with both the Shinpūren and dissidents in Hagi. The political thought of the Kanjōtai9 (as the Akizuki samurai styled themselves) was marked by one unusual feature, an advocacy of overseas expansion, and the government’s refusal to attack Korea had infuriated them.
In response to the Shinpūren’s request, the Akizuki samurai, led by Miyazaki Kurumanosuke, agreed to send troops to Kumamoto. On October 26 the Akizuki samurai, who numbered fewer than 200 men, prepared to leave for the scene of the fighting.10 Not all the former Akizuki samurai agreed with this decision. Some urged Miyazaki to disband the troops, but passions had been aroused, and nothing less than military action would satisfy hot-tempered samurai. The Akizuki samurai set off behind a white banner inscribed in big characters hōkoku.11 Before long, government troops caught up with the rebels and inflicted heavy losses. On November 1 most of the leaders of the Kanjōtai, weary and despairing of success, committed suicide.
The third of the revolts occurred in Hagi. Maebara Issei, a brilliant student of Yoshida Shōin at his celebrated school in Hagi, and later at the Chōshū school for Western learning, had seen active service with both Chōshū and Meiji armies. He had distinguished himself especially in the campaign at Aizu Wakamatsu. After rising to be minister of defense, he resigned in 1870, ostensibly because of illness but actually because he was angered by Kido Takayoshi’s recommendations to the Court Council on the treatment of former daimyos. He was dissatisfied also with the political views of senior members of the government, especially their advocacy of modernization. Maebara began to think of starting a revolt and joining forces with other dissidents, especially the Shinpūren.12
When Maebara learned that the Shinpūren had staged an uprising, he summoned a group of intimates on October 26 and declared to them that the time had come to revive the national polity. He proposed a lightning attack on Yamaguchi. The others agreed, and he issued a manifesto appealing to men of like views. On October 28 Maebara’s supporters assembled, ready for combat. They numbered only about 100 men, but they decided to attack that night. The governor of Yamaguchi Prefecture, getting word that trouble was brewing in Hagi, sent an official to inform Maebara that the Kumamoto rebellion had been quelled and ordered him to disband his men at once.
Maebara realized that his revolt was doomed: a surprise attack had offered the only possibility of success, but now that the governor had learned his plans and was expecting support from government troops, there was no point in trying to attack Yamaguchi. Maebara thereupon changed his plans: he would win over the samurai of the provinces along the coast of the Sea of Japan and advance with them to Tōkyō where, at the feet of the emperor, they would commit suicides of remonstrance.
With this in mind, Maebara and his men made their way to Susa on the northern coast of Yamaguchi Prefecture, looting as they went. In Susa he mustered additional men and formed them into the Junkoku Army.13 He planned to go by sea from Susa to Hamada in Iwami Province, but strong winds assaulted his flotilla of fishing boats and forced him to return to Hagi. When Maebara discovered that his secret supplies of ammunition in Hagi had been dumped into the sea, he knew he had no chance of success. He decided to go to Tōkyō and offer his reasons for having staged a rebellion. He and a handful of his men slipped out of Hagi but were captured on November 5. The rest of the Junkoku Army was crushed by land and sea forces of the government.
Samurai with similar views in other places who had been sympathetic to the rebels abandoned their plans to revolt, realizing it would be futile. On December 3 leaders of the failed rebellions in Kumamoto, Akizuki and Hagi, were tried and executed. The samurai rebellions were over for the time being, but peasant revolts in Ibaraki and Mie made it clear how much dissatisfaction still lingered in the country.
On December 31 Kido Takayoshi, the most outspoken member of the administration, sent a memorandum to Prime Minister Sanjō Sanetomi and Minister of the Right Iwakura Tomomi in which he blamed inept administration of the laws for recent revolts by samurai and peasants. However, he said, the ultimate blame lay elsewhere: ever since the crisis of 1873, most of the troubles plaguing the country had originated in Satsuma. As examples of this pernicious influence, he mentioned Satsuma’s advocacy of the conquest of Korea and of Taiwan. The government was always in the position of having to follow Satsuma’s lead. Kido’s harsh interpretation of the actions of the Satsuma samurai may be explained in terms of his Chōshū background, but surely that was not all; he sympathized with peasants who, faced with poverty and hunger because of unsettled conditions, had no other way to express their frustration than by arming themselves with bamboo spears.
Kido proposed a six-point program intended to promote the welfare of the peasant class. One point urged an end to using government money for unnecessary construction, thereby freeing funds to help people in economic distress. Another point declared that the people should not be bound, without first consulting them, by rules and regulations that had been promulgated. Kido concluded by expressing impatience with those who favored delay in opening a parliament on the grounds that the people were not ready for it. They said they favored gradual rather than precipitous change, but they themselves did not hesitate to impose decrees without considering whether or not these decrees were enlightened or appropriate; if that was not precipitous, what was it?14
The day after Kido sent his memorandum, the New Year ceremonies for 1877 were performed at the palace in exact conformity to tradition. The emperor was now in his twenty-sixth year. On January 4 he announced that land taxes would be reduced from 3 to 2.5 percent in the hopes of bringing relief to the people. Kido Takayoshi commented in his diary, “I have long requested this action, so I am grateful. My only hope now is that the Imperial purpose will be fully realized, and that it will lead to the well-being of the people.”15 This reduction in state revenues would result in a curtailment of some state services, and the emperor urged officials to practice strict economy.
Behind the emperor’s decision, we can detect the presence of Ōkubo Toshimichi, who on December 27, 1876, had sent a memorandum to Sanjō Sanetomi in which he declared that it was absolutely essential to relieve the plight of the peasants. Not only had the new government done nothing to help the peasants, but it had not even spared the time to consider their problems. The peasant revolts that had lately broken out in various parts of the country were evidence of their unhappiness. It was the duty of the government, which had always insisted that agriculture was the foundation of the state, to enable the peasants to make a decent living.16 Ōkubo proposed lowering the tax to 2 percent, predicting that the relief afforded to the farmers would bring about general prosperity. The 2.5 percent announced by the emperor was presumably a compromise.
On January 4 the emperor rode horseback. This normally would need no comment, but from this day on, riding became a mania with him. He rode almost every day from two in the afternoon until sundown. He continued his intense riding practice not only in Tōkyō but after he went to Kyōto later that month.
The emperor left Tōkyō for Kyōto on January 24. The announced reason for the journey was the emperor’s desire to worship at the tomb of Emperor Jimmu at Mount Unebi and of Emperor Kōmei at the Sennyū-ji in Kyōto on the tenth anniversary of Kōmei’s death. He was also planning to visit tombs of other emperors in the region of Kyōto and Nara,17 traveling to and from Kōbe by sea. The emperor, no doubt remembering the rough voyage on his return from Hokkaidō, was unenthusiastic about making two sea voyages and attempted to persuade his advisers to allow him at least to return by land. But they informed him that he would be urgently needed back in Tōkyō and begged him t
o return by sea because it was quicker than land travel.18 The emperor eventually yielded, but (as we can tell from the poems composed at this time) he was still apprehensive about the rough seas. The first tanka was composed on January 21, the day before the scheduled sailing, although stormy winds in fact caused a postponement:
hageshiku mo I can hear the roar
fukikuru kaze no Of the wind blowing this way
oto su nari With violent force;
ao unabara ni How the waves will be rising
nami ya tatsuran In the blue expanse of sea.
The second tanka seems to have been composed aboard ship:
kinō kyō In the fierceness of
umi fuku kaze no The wind blowing over the sea
hageshisa ni Yesterday and today
kogiiden fune mo Ships that were being rowed away
shibashi todemetsu Have had to be stopped a while.19
On the morning of January 24, the emperor and his suite traveled by train to Yokohama, where he boarded the Takao maru. The ship, escorted by two warships (the Kasuga and the Seiki), sailed the same morning. That day he composed the following tanka:
nami kaze no Not dismayed even
tatsu mo itowazu By the rising wind and waves,
unabara ni How the ship races
keburi wo tatete Over the plains of the sea
hashiru fune kana Raising a column of smoke.20
The poem confirms the emperor’s confidence in the ship, regardless of the weather, but the sea was rougher than he had expected. The waves rose, whipped by a fierce northeasterly wind and by rain, and the ship rocked so badly it was decided to anchor at Toba until the storm abated. The emperor described his feeling in these words:
fuku kaze ni Having been battered
arasoitateru By the rough waves mustered up
aranami ni By the blowing winds.
kokoro narazu mo We have had to row the ship back
kogikaeshikeri Quite against our own wishes.21
The storm continued for several days. Not until January 27 were the ships able to resume the voyage, reaching Kōbe the next day. The emperor landed and, after a brief rest at the post office, went by horseback through the city to the railway station, acclaimed by crowds that lined the streets. He traveled by train from Kōbe to Kyōto, where he was again greeted by crowds as he proceeded from Higashi Hongan-ji (where he briefly rested) to the Gosho. He was no doubt moved to return to the scenes of his childhood, but the only surviving expression of his pleasure is found in this tanka:
suminareshi How delightful to think
hana no miyako no That this year I shall see
hatsuyuki wo The first fall of snow
kotoshi wa min to In the flowery capital
omou tanoshisa Where I lived so many years.22
Arriving at the palace, he was welcomed by the empress and the empress dowager. Later that day he granted an audience to members of the imperial family. On January 29 the emperor received members of the nobility in his study. He distributed gifts to various princes and princesses as well as to high-ranking nobles. It may have seemed as if Kyōto’s old glory had at least temporarily been restored, although the buildings of the Gosho had suffered from neglect during the emperor’s absence in Tōkyō.23
That night, quite unknown to those who attended these ceremonies at the court, a group of young men (described as “private school students”) raided the army ammunition dump at Sōmuda in Kagoshima, the first clash of the Satsuma Rebellion.
The immediate cause of this action by “students”—samurai who had attended the private schools24 founded by Saigō Takamori—was the report that the national army, disturbed by reports of unrest, had sent a steamship to transfer ammunition stored in Kagoshima to the Ōsaka Artillery Arsenal. Attacks on army ammunition dumps and on the arsenal attached to the naval shipyard continued during the following week. The vice commandant of the shipyard repeatedly asked the governor of Kagoshima for police protection, but he was ignored. On February 3 the vice commandant closed the shipyard, suspecting that the governor’s failure to act was occasioned by his sympathy for the attackers. Two days later the “students” occupied the shipyard and began to manufacture weapons and ammunition.
Behind these actions were the frustration and anger felt by Saigō Takamori and other Kagoshima samurai when his request to be sent to Korea as an ambassador was finally rejected. After returning to Kagoshima they decided that the samurai needed special training to make them effective defenders of the prefecture, which—in their view—was an all but independent country. In June 1874 Saigō founded a school outside the city of Kagoshima at the foot of Shiroyama in buildings that had been the stables of the Satsuma clan. A branch school, smaller in size, was founded within the city itself, and other branches were soon established elsewhere in the prefecture. The guiding spirit of these “private schools” was Saigō Takamori. A set of maxims, penned by Saigō himself, was displayed at each school, including one declaring that reverence for the monarch and compassion for the people were the foundation of learning. If thoroughly investigated, this principle would enable the samurai to perform their Heaven-appointed duties in a righteous manner.25
The instruction given at these schools emphasized the reading of the Chinese classics, especially those relating to the art of war, and the study of the traditions of the samurai class.26 No guidance was provided in Japanese learning (such as Shintō or poetry composition) or in Western technology. The purpose of the schools was to make members of the samurai class aware that although they were neglected by the government in Tōkyō, they were the repositories of Japanese tradition. Even though they emphasized the importance of study, the private schools closely resembled political parties; the students were committed to a program of action; and their interest in learning was in no sense academic.
Some Kagoshima samurai, particularly those who came from places outside the city, were reluctant to attend the schools, but social pressure eventually obliged them to show solidarity with others of their class. The schools enjoyed the covert support of the governor, who appointed “students” to local political offices.
In December 1876 the government sent a police officer named Nakahara Hisao and various other men27 to Kagoshima to investigate reports of subversive activities by the private schools. Soon after arriving they were captured by students of these schools and accused of being spies. Later they were accused of an even graver crime: their mission, it was charged, was to assassinate Saigō. Nakahara was tortured and forced to sign a confession admitting his guilt.28 He later repudiated the confession, but it was widely believed in Kagoshima—even by Saigō—that the government wished to kill Saigō.29 This revelation became for those associated with the private schools a pretext for starting a rebellion in order to protect him.
Although the emperor was kept informed of developments in Kagoshima, he showed no signs of wanting to return to Tōkyō or to take command of efforts to put down a rebellion against his authority. Instead he spent his days in Kyōto inspecting schools, a brewery, various factories, and even a stock-farming ranch. He paid his respects at various Shintō shrines and, in the company of the empress, the empress dowager, and his aunt Princess Sumiko, attended a program of nō at the Katsuranomiya Palace.30 He continued these peaceful activities (and visits to the tombs of his ancestors) even as conditions in Kagoshima rapidly worsened.
On February 6 reports reached Tōkyō on the tense situation in Kagoshima, causing great surprise and consternation because their content diametrically contradicted the appraisal prepared by Hayashi Tomoyuki (1823–1907), an officer of the Interior Ministry. After he had inspected conditions in Kagoshima and returned to Tōkyō, he discounted the seriousness of the reported unrest.31 Hayashi now asked to be sent back to Kagoshima so that he might get a better grasp of the changed situation. Sanjō Sanetomi, Kido Takayoshi, and Itō Hirobumi acceded to Hayashi’s request, and he was ordered to return to Kagoshima along with Admiral Kawamura Sumiyoshi (1836�
�1904). They expressed particular concern over the possibility that unrest might spread to other parts of Japan that were close to Kagoshima either geographically or spiritually.32 In view of the gravity of the situation, they suggested that Hayashi, Kawamura, and the others in the party proceed to Kagoshima by the steamship Takao maru, the fastest way to get there.
The Takao maru sailed from Kōbe on February 7 and arrived in Kagoshima two days later. A messenger was sent to the prefectural office to report the mission’s arrival. Soon afterward the governor, Ōyama Tsunayoshi, came aboard. He informed Hayashi and Kawamura that the students of the private schools were upset because of the report that assassins had been sent to kill Saigō. In fact the whole prefecture was seething with indignation. He relayed Saigō’s request that Kawamura (Saigō’s cousin) go ashore so that they might discuss the matter. Hayashi replied that it was unlikely that any assassins had been sent to Kagoshima. He urged Ōyama to join with Saigō in calming the agitation.33
Hardly had Ōyama left the Takao maru than seven or eight small boats approached, each bearing a dozen or more armed men. They attempted by force to board the Takao maru, but the captain, cutting the moorings, ordered the ship to proceed toward Sakurajima. Ōyama returned later that day with a message repeating Saigō’s eagerness to meet with Kawamura. Hayashi replied that he could not permit Kawamura to go ashore until the turbulence had been calmed. He labeled the attack on a ship belonging to the government an act of lèse-majesté and informed Ōyama before dismissing him that in view of prevailing conditions, the ship would be leaving at once.34
