But their leader had not donned armour, nor did he travel in the bows with his fellows; he preferred to sit in the comfort of the stern, his arms folded into the sleeves of his kimono, which was made from extraordinarily rich silk, with a flowered design. A peasant’s hat shaded his face from the sun, and his strong features were relaxed and peaceful. Although, like any samurai, his two swords were thrust through his sash. Nicholas reckoned the Japanese were the most interesting people he had ever encountered, and they inhabited an interesting and utterly beautiful country. He looked from the calmness of the sea up to the mountains which dotted the inland horizon, some of them lost in cloud, and thought about the beautiful Japanese people as well. Some of them. He could not get the face of Masaru Sumiko out of his mind, the pleasure with which she had realised that he was not, after all, about to die. But mingled with that memory was the earlier one of her standing with utter composure next to the tub while he had knelt, naked, being masturbated by a naked young woman. This memory was indeed a mixture of nightmare and delight. For on the one hand, there was the unthinkable thought that naked humanity and all that might follow, and should follow, was of no account to her. On the other there was the equally unacceptable suggestion that if naked manhood meant so little to her, it was necessarily because she had seen so much of it. Starting from such a premise, and carrying it to its logical conclusion, where then would she begin to be interested in the appearance of sexual desire?
But how to reconcile Sumiko with the suggestion of savagery that lay around him, the decision to cut a poor adulteress into pieces, the fact that he himself would be dead but for Saigo-no-Takamori’s interference, and the understanding that he was not yet certain of his survival. He was disturbed by a faint snore from Tom Ebury; the midshipman had undoubtedly been as shocked as himself by the executions, but not speaking Dutch he had been unaware of how close they had themselves come to losing their heads – they had not had a chance to speak together before being hurried away by Saigo; also he lacked Nicholas’s stamina, and was still exhausted from the ordeal of the shipwreck.
‘Your companion sleeps soundly,’ Saigo-no-Takamori remarked.
‘He is very young,’ Nicholas said.
‘You are very young yourself, to have command of such a ship,’ Saigo suggested.
‘I only assumed command after my captain and first lieutenant were lost,’ Nicholas explained. ‘But it is a responsibility, for which I will have to answer.’
‘You will lose your head?’
‘Well, no. We do not execute people so easily in England. But I will have to face a court-martial, and explain my actions. That is why I have brought my log book, you see, Mr Saigo. It will be regarded as direct evidence of what happened. And if, as I believe they will, my lords of the Admiralty agree that I did what I had to do, then I will be acquitted, and returned to service.’
‘And if they do not agree?’
‘Then I will probably be cashiered, dismissed the service.’
‘You will become a ronin?’ Saigo suggested. ‘A man without a lord to follow?’
‘Why, yes, I suppose I shall. So the sooner it is done the better. When will I be allowed to continue to Edo?’
‘That will depend upon my lord Shimadzu,’ Saigo said. ‘He rules this land, and all in it.’
‘Mr Tadatune said something of this,’ Nicholas agreed. ‘But you are talking of Bungo, not all Japan?’
‘Sadly, yes,’ Saigo agreed. ‘Here in the south, the people are happy, and the country is in good order, because of the rule of the Shimadzu. Happiness depends on the strength and generosity of one’s lord, and we have a great and noble lord to rule over us. It is not so in the north. And if the Tokugawa have their way it will soon not be so anywhere in Japan.’
‘You will have to explain to me something of Japanese politics, Mr Saigo,’ Nicholas said. ‘Mr Tadatune also indicated that he was unhappy with the Tokugawa shōgunate.’
Saigo considered for a few minutes, then he said, ‘Well, Lieutenant Barrett, as I am sure Tadatune san told you, the Tokugawas have been shōguns now for over two centuries, and once they were great and strong; one of the most famous men in Japanese history was Tokugawa Iyeyasu, who founded the family fortunes. But now they are timid and weak. They have surrendered to the fleet of the American Perry, virtually without a shot being fired, and now would command the entire country to open its ports and accept foreign traders, and foreign goods, and even foreign missionaries. The first of the Tokugawa expelled all foreign missionaries. Those of them they did not execute.’
‘And you would revert to such barbarity?’ Nicholas was aghast.
‘No,’ Saigo said. ‘There can be no doubt that in closing our ports and forbidding our people to travel and observe the ways of the world, we also allowed Japan to fall dangerously behind other nations in such things as weapons and industry. It is certain that only through contact with the barbarians can Japan again become great. But by refusing to oppose the white men, by meekly surrendering to all their demands, Tokugawa Iemochi has disgraced all samurai.’
‘But . . . does this mean you in the south will resist the foreign traders when they come? Because I must tell you frankly, Mr Saigo, that I doubt you can fight a war against my people, much less all the barbarians grouped together, with any hope of success. The Chinese have attempted that on two occasions, and been roundly thrashed each time.’
Saigo smiled. ‘You are entirely right. We cannot oppose the barbarians, until we have secured the necessary strength. But that does not absolve the Tokugawa from the charge of having failed in their duty, and having brought disgrace upon the honour of Japan.’
Nicholas scratched his head. ‘You don’t suppose the Shōgun also knows that he cannot oppose barbarian sea power?’
‘I am sure he does,’ Saigo agreed. ‘But you must understand, Lieutenant Barrett, that it is the duty of a leader not to survive his surrender, however inevitable that surrender may have been.’
‘Are you trying to tell me, Mr Saigo, that if the Shōgun does not abdicate, the daimyo may depose him?’
‘I am not speaking of abdication,’ Saigo said. ‘It is the law of bushido, which governs our principles, that a defeated samurai, if he cannot withdraw in good order to fight another day, but rather is forced to surrender, must atone for his defeat by committing what we call seppuku, or ceremonial suicide, by slitting open his belly. If he does not do this, he is forever disgraced. His family, his home, his goods and chattels, become the property of the man to whom he has surrendered, to be used as he pleases, and he himself is lower than the low. This applies to a shōgun no less than an ordinary samurai. But Tokugawa Iemochi has chosen to ignore the law.’
‘Perhaps he does not feel that he has been forced to surrender.’
‘There are many, especially here in the south, who would disagree with him.’
‘That sounds like a recipe for civil war,’ Nicholas observed.
Saigo gave a grim smile. ‘There have been civil wars in Japan before, Lieutenant Barrett, where it has been considered to be to the country’s benefit. Now let us speak of happier things. I am sorry you had to jettison your guns. I understand that it was necessary, but I would have liked to see them. Now, these other weapons we have brought with us . . .’ he gestured at the rifles which were piled forward. ‘They are unlike any muskets I have ever seen before. And the bullets are differently shaped.’
‘That is because they are rifled,’ Nicholas explained. ‘The barrel has grooves cut in it, as do the bullets, and this enables them to go further, and more accurately, than a musket ball.’
‘Ah, so,’ Saigo commented. ‘But how are they loaded?’
‘The same as a musket; the bullet is rammed down the muzzle. With a rifle, this takes considerably longer than for a smoothbore, but it is worth it, because of the greater range and accuracy. And in fact there are experiments going on at this moment in Europe to develop a breech-loading rifle, which will completely revolutionise warfare.
There are also rifled cannon.’
Saigo looked dumbfounded. ‘Your cannon were, as you say, rifled?’
‘No, unfortunately. Ours were smooth-bore. But within another few years I imagine all warships will be armed with rifled guns.’
Saigo considered, and then indicated Nicholas’s holster. ‘And is that also a weapon?’
Nicholas drew the revolver and presented it to him. Saigo examined it very carefully, peering down the muzzle, to Nicholas’s alarm, but keeping his finger well away from the trigger. ‘This is also rifled. But it is much smaller than the rifles. Can it shoot as well?’
‘It is for use over shorter distances,’ Nicholas explained.
‘I would have a demonstration of this,’ Saigo decided. He gave an order in Japanese, and the oarsmen took in their paddles. The galley lost way and came to a complete stop, rolling gently on the calm sea; there was almost no wind. ‘Do you think one of your bullets would pierce a suit of our armour?’ Saigo asked.
‘I would say so, yes.’
‘We shall see.’ Saigo gave more orders in Japanese, and a spare breastplate was produced, and taken into the bow, where it was hung from the foremast, on which the sail was furled, swaying gently to and fro as the ship moved. Now Saigo himself called for a bow, which was brought to him by one of his samurai. This was the first opportunity Nicholas had had of examining a Japanese bow, and he recognised immediately that it was a formidable weapon, made from several pieces of wood carefully jointed together to create immense strength. To this bow Saigo, standing up, now fixed an arrow, took careful aim, waiting for the right roll of the ship, and released the shaft, which struck the exact centre of the breastplate. However, it did not penetrate the lacquer for more than a dent, and then fell into the bottom of the boat. ‘That shaft would have knocked that man over,’ Saigo said. ‘Would your bullet do as much?’
Nicholas took his revolver and also stood up, while the samurai muttered to each other as they gazed at the small piece of oddly-shaped steel. Nicholas also took careful aim, and then squeezed the trigger. The samurai uttered cries of dismay and amazement as the flying lead ripped the entire breastplate open, and then tore through the backplate beyond to disappear into the sea. ‘That is why, General Saigo,’ he explained, ‘our soldiers do not wear armour or fight with swords. Only concealment is effective against a modern firearm, and a rifle will do twice that much damage at several times the range.’
‘A marvellous weapon,’ Saigo agreed, thoughtfully. ‘As you say, such guns will change the entire concept of warfare.’ He pointed. ‘Our destination.’
*
Under way again, the galley had turned away from the open sea and into the mouth of a huge inlet, some five miles wide and perhaps twenty deep. Now, as its speed increased in the smoother water, Nicholas could see at the very end of the bay, a city, and realised a very well-guarded one too; forts looked down from the heights on to the water, and were they adequately armed and defended, any approach by an enemy squadron would be out of the question. Beyond was a metropolis of narrow streets, crowded houses, and towering pagodas, rising away from the waterfront. But it too was built around a huge castle; the walls rose sheer from the sea, and were composed of mammoth blocks of stone; he could not make out any facing or even mortar which might have been used to cement the blocks together, and yet there could be no doubt of their solidity.
Rising above the battlements was what appeared to be a palace rather than a barracks or a keep, a huge, brightly painted wooden building, dominated by its eight pagoda roofs mounting eight stories to a small watchtower which must have a horizon, Nicholas estimated, of some fifty miles on a clear day: certainly it would look out beyond the entrance to the bay, and give ample warning of the approach of a hostile fleet. From this tower, as well as the uppermost of the pagoda roofs, a mass of multi-coloured flags floated in the breeze. ‘Good heavens!’ Tom had been awoken by the report of the revolver. ‘Where are we?’
Saigo had already observed Nicholas’s interest with pleasure. ‘That is Kagoshima, the citadel of Lord Shimadzu,’ he said. ‘And hopefully will be your home from now on, Lieutenant Barrett.’ Nicholas was too fascinated by the city and the fort to take proper heed of that remark. The galley was coming into a low dock, and they disembarked. The samurai escort went first, moving in a most peculiar fashion. They did not draw their swords, but still paraded, taking great strides, to left and right as well as immediately to the front, so that they constantly moved from side to side of the street, glaring at everyone they encountered, and at the same time making loud hissing noises through their nostrils. They actually presented a ludicrous sight, to Nicholas’s English eyes, but there could be no doubt about the terrifying effect they were having on the Japanese.
Saigo was obviously well-known, and the fact that he had returned with two foreigners attracted attention. People hurried from the houses and shops to line the street, making an attractive picture with their many-coloured kimonos and equally bright parasols which the women used to repel the afternoon sun – but no one ventured too close, afraid to risk an encounter with the marching warriors. ‘Would your people actually harm someone who crowded you?’ Nicholas asked.
‘They would cut him down, or her, without hesitation,’ Saigo said.
‘But these are your own people.’
‘Yet they are not samurai. In Japan, Lieutenant Barrett, it is necessary to know one’s place at all times.’ As Tadatune had warned him, Nicholas remembered. They approached the entrance to the castle, a massive wooden gateway set into the stone walls and reached by a wooden drawbridge across a wide moat of salt water, connected with the sea and therefore tidal, and used, Nicholas decided, as a sewer as well as a defence. But inside the castle the air was clean, surprisingly in view of the size of the garrison, for he estimated not less than five hundred samurai were assembled to greet them, wearing the same quaint armour as their fellows, and armed only with bows and arrows, spears and swords, but obviously highly confident troops. Beyond this outer courtyard they crossed another bridge into the inner keep, where the palace itself was situated. Here Saigo was gravely greeted by several older samurai, who cast interested glances at Nicholas and Tom; while they peered at the strange English naval uniforms, they clearly had no idea of the importance of the holsters which hung from their belts.
Now Saigo turned to them. ‘Lord Shimadzu has learned of my return. He will see you immediately. Remember, Lieutenant Barrett, to follow my example in all things, and above all, to speak only the truth. Your life, and that of your friend, depends upon this.’
Chapter Three – The Bride
Feeling almost sick with apprehension, Nicholas climbed the steps, Saigo beside him, Tom immediately behind him, and four of the senior samurai behind the midshipman. On the next level they entered the palace itself, finding themselves in a lofty hallway panelled with dark-stained wood, where there were several more samurai waiting. Another flight of stairs led up into a smaller antechamber. ‘Remember what I said,’ Saigo told Nicholas, and nodded to the two samurai who stood in front of the doorway. This was immediately thrown open, and Saigo led the way into a similar dark chamber, empty of all furniture, as usual, at least as far as Nicholas could make out from a very quick glance. He was given no opportunity for a closer inspection as Saigo, once within the door, dropped to his knees and then placed his hands on the floor in front of him, slowly inclining his body forward until his forehead touched the mat. ‘Do it,’ he whispered urgently in English, as Nicholas and Tom hesitated.
Nicholas had of course heard of the kowtow. It had for more than fifty years been a matter of contention between English ministers and Manchu rulers; he had never expected to have to perform it himself. But he followed Saigo’s example, gesturing Tom to do the same, while attempting to determine just who he was bowing to, for the room in front of him appeared to be absolutely empty. Behind him, to be sure, there were several elderly men seated cross-legged on the tatami mats, neither moving nor speaki
ng. But the Lord of Satsuma would hardly be amongst those.
A quiet voice issued an instruction, in Japanese. Saigo immediately drew both his swords and placed them on the floor beside him, at the same time indicating that Nicholas should do the same. Nicholas unbuckled his sword belt and laid the weapon down, with it the revolver holster, and gestured Tom to follow his example.
Now Saigo advanced across the mats, crawling on his hands and knees. Once again Nicholas’ pride rebelled against such an absurd performance, especially when watched by the men seated behind him. But it made no sense not to do as required, having come so far. So he crawled behind Saigo, and discovered that the room was actually a vast L in shape, and that Lord Shimadzu was seated around the corner, where he could hear what was going on in the rest of the room, but could not be seen except by those he had called forward. Now once again Saigo performed the kowtow, and again Nicholas copied him: Tom had remained behind the screen. Nicholas could see, despite the gloom, that the tatami mats ended a few feet away and that the centre of this floor was bare, dark-stained wood surrounding a dais reached by two steps. On this dais, sitting cross-legged on a cushion, was a man. He wore a richly embroidered kimono and carried both swords in his girdle, and of course wore also the shaven scalp and top-knot of the samurai class to which he belonged, just visible beneath a small round hat, secured with a strap beneath his chin. This then was the Shidmadzu of Satsuma, lord of this castle and all who lived in it as well as the city and surrounding countryside. Nicholas was aware of disappointment. He was not sure what he had expected, or if he had consciously expected anything at all, but he had supposed he would be aware of being in the presence of majesty, of an aura of command and omnipotence, and of a man who would reveal these assets in his features.
Bloody Sunrise Page 6
