by Donald Keene
The Takao maru returned to Kōbe on February 12. It was met by Yamagata Aritomo and Itō Hirobumi, who had gone there when word of the incident in Kagoshima reached Kyōto. That night at an inn in Kōbe, preparations for sending troops to Kagoshima were discussed. There seemed to be no doubt that the outbreak of war was imminent.
Chapter 28
February 1877 was one of the memorable months of modern Japanese history. The Satsuma Rebellion, the last civil war to be fought in Japan, broke out this month, pitting heroes of the Restoration against one another. The war represented a great threat not merely to the evolution toward democracy desired by principal members of the government but to the very survival of the regime. At the start it was by no means certain that the Satsuma Rebellion would fail, and if it succeeded, the entire political configuration of Japan would undoubtedly have changed.
Emperor Meiji was kept abreast of developments from the first stirrings of the rebellion, and he was not indifferent to what he heard; but his life in Kyōto at this time seems to have been completely unruffled by the dramatic events taking place in Kagoshima. He visited schools, listened to pupils recite, and rewarded the bright ones with money for textbooks. At first he rode virtually every day. Once in a while he left Kyōto. On February 5, for example, he visited all the stations on the newly opened railway line between Kyōto and Kōbe. Kido Takayoshi’s diary evokes the stuffily formal nature of the ceremonies:
At 9 the emperor boarded the train to go to Ōsaka station. On his arrival there the Army Band formed ranks and played some music, while several government officials welcomed the emperor. A throne had been prepared in the railway station. The ministers of foreign nations were lined up to the left of the throne; and, as the prime minister was ill, I headed the line of Japanese officials to the right of the throne. The Grand Master of Ceremonies introduced the Governor of Ōsaka, who headed the delegation of governors, secretaries, head district chiefs, and other officials; and the Governor stepped forward in front of the throne to offer a congratulatory address. The emperor honored him with a message in reply.1
Two days later, on February 7, Meiji set out for Yamato Province in order to fulfill a long-standing wish to worship at the tomb of Emperor Jimmu, his distant ancestor. On the way he stopped on the bridge over the Uji River and watched fishermen cast their nets from dozens of little fishing boats. He spent that night at Uji where, admiring the moon, he composed this tanka:
mononofu no Morning Sun Mountain—
yaso Uji kawa ni Visible in the light
sumu tsuki no Of the moon that dwells
hikari ni miyuru In the Uji River known
asahiyama kana To soldiers of many clans.2
On the following day the emperor visited the Phoenix Hall and inspected the buildings and treasures of this famous temple. Afterward he and his escorts traveled to Nara where he stayed at the Tōdai-ji from where he enjoyed the splendid view of nearby mountains.
On February 9 Meiji went to worship at the Kasuga Shrine. Shintō rites were performed, and he listened to kagura. In the afternoon he visited an exhibition of treasures from the Tōdai-ji and Hōryū-ji and saw a performance of the nō play Shakkyō performed by actors of the Komparu school.3
Later that day Emperor Meiji was shown the imperial collection of treasures in the Shōsō-in. Although the building was normally sealed shut, it was opened for this occasion. Inside the Shōsō-in the emperor expressed interest in the celebrated ranjatai, an ancient log of incense wood. Ashikaga Yoshimasa in the fifteenth century and Oda Nobunaga in the sixteenth century had received slivers of the ranjatai, perhaps as a tribute to their place in history. After he had returned to his quarters that night, Meiji asked for a piece of the ranjatai. The director of the museum cut off a sliver two inches long and offered it to the emperor, who broke it into two pieces and burned one. “A fragrant smoke filled the temporary palace.”4 The emperor took back to Tōkyō the remaining piece of ranjatai.
On February 11, corresponding to the date in the lunar calendar of Jimmu’s coronation,5 Meiji worshiped before his tomb. In 1863 a spot had been designated as Jimmu’s tomb, and repairs had been made during Kōmei’s reign. Since then it had been neglected, but from now on it would be shown proper respect. On the day he visited the tomb, the emperor watched folk dances that had been preserved since ancient times at Kuzu in Yoshino as well as bugaku dances. Afterward he inspected the machines used to make the famous Miwa vermicelli.
On February 12 Meiji visited sites associated with Sugawara no Michizane, who had passed through this region on his way into exile. That morning there were snow flurries, and a holy purity seemed to fill heaven and earth. The emperor could not bear the thought of leaving a place sacred to his first ancestor and so intimately associated with the history of the country. He said he would like to stay for another day, but the imperial household minister replied that it would cause hardship for people if he prolonged his stay. Besides, the news from Kagoshima was so disquieting that the emperor should return to Tōkyō as soon as possible. The emperor at once agreed.
The emperor’s seeming imperturbability in face of threatening news from Kagoshima is little short of astonishing. Of course, his travels in the countryside of Yamato were not merely pleasure excursions. Apart from the importance he attached to paying homage before the tombs of Jimmu and other emperors, his travels (like earlier journeys to Kyūshū and to Hokkaidō) served the vital function of bringing him closer to the people. When he decided to keep to his original plan of visiting Nara, despite the threat of war, he may have been following the advice of Kido Takayoshi, who wrote in his diary on February 10, after describing the alarming situation in Kagoshima, “I maintain that a sudden change of the schedule on account of this civil disturbance is improper; and that if a rebellion breaks out before the end of the tour, the emperor should stay where he is.”6
In any case, while the emperor was pursuing his leisurely journey around Yamato, visiting schools, spinning mills, and imperial tombs, troops of the Household Guards Division and the Tōkyō and Ōsaka garrisons were being dispatched to Kyūshū. On February 12 in response to intelligence received from the Kumamoto garrison, Army Minister Yamagata Aritomo sent a message to Prime Minister Sanjō Sanetomi concerning strategy. He warned that the situation in Kagoshima was extremely tense. It would be difficult to predict what would occur if war broke out or what changes might result afterward, but they would not be insignificant. Moreover, once Kagoshima moved into action, other provinces in different parts of Japan were likely to join.
Yamagata admitted that he did not know what strategy Kagoshima might adopt in the event of a full-scale rebellion, but he listed three possibilities: Saigō’s forces might stage a sudden raid, using steamships, on Tōkyō and Ōsaka; his troops might attack Nagasaki and the Kumamoto garrison to gain control of Kyūshū; or they might ensconce themselves in Kagoshima and, keeping an eye on signs of shifting loyalties throughout the country, wait for the right moment to strike. Yamagata correctly inferred that Saigō would choose the second course—an attack on the Kumamoto garrison—and he believed that the best way to counter such a strategy would be a joint army–navy onslaught on Kagoshima Castle, the nerve center of Saigō’s forces. He was sure that once this castle was taken, it would not be difficult to destroy rebellious domains elsewhere.7
On February 13 at 8 P.M., Sanjō left Kyōto for the emperor’s residence in Nara, arriving at midnight. He had gone to ask the emperor’s permission to send warships to Kagoshima. Permission was granted, and Sanjō (at 2 A.M.) withdrew from the imperial presence. He sent authorization to Rear Admiral Itō Sukemaro in Kōbe, who immediately raised the Kasuga’s anchor and set sail for Nagasaki. The Ryūjō was already there.
Earlier, as signs of impending conflict were multiplying, Iwakura Tomomi had suggested to Ōkubo Toshimichi that if there was a disturbance in Kagoshima, an imperial envoy should be sent to admonish Saigō Takamori and Shimazu Hisamitsu. When word was received of the seizure of ar
ms by “students” of Saigō’s private schools, Iwakura proposed himself as the envoy and offered to leave at once for Kagoshima. Ōkubo did not agree, contending that at a time when the emperor was in the western part of the country, Iwakura’s responsibilities were too heavy to permit him to leave the capital. But as more and more reports on the situation in Kagoshima reached Tōkyō, it became clear that something had to be done to end the “students’ violence.” Ōkubo decided to leave for Kyōto to be with the emperor. It was as yet unclear what course of action Saigō and Shimazu would take, and Iwakura decided not to reveal publicly that a punitive force would be sent to Kyūshū.
In the meanwhile the emperor continued his visits to places of interest in the Kansai region. On February 14, attired in court robes, he worshiped at the Sumiyoshi Shrine. Later in the morning he changed to informal clothes and visited the tea house where Toyotomi Hideyoshi had once amused himself. The emperor and his party went next to Ōsaka, where soldiers of the garrison, lined up along the way, presented arms. The houses were decorated with flags, lanterns, and brightly colored pennants in honor of the visit. At the garrison he was greeted with an artillery salute and gave an audience to Yamagata Aritomo and Kido Takayoshi. After lunch he went to the Ōsaka English Language School, where he heard the pupils recite in English and observed a science experiment. From the English school Meiji went to the Ōsaka Teachers Training School where there was a repetition of classroom visits, and he gave prizes to the outstanding students. Finally the emperor proceeded to the Ōsaka Mint where he received various dignitaries and ate a Western meal.
Granted that Meiji was still a young man, the day must nevertheless have been exhausting, and the remainder of the journey was equally taxing. On the fifteenth, among other activities, he quizzed gifted children from city elementary schools about Japanese history, asking about the achievements of six emperors—Keikō, Nintoku, Goshirakawa, Gouda, Ōgimachi, and Goyōzei. After resting briefly he asked a similar group of schoolchildren from the countryside about Japanese geography. On the sixteenth, before leaving Ōsaka, the emperor visited an indigo-dyeing factory and watched stages of the process. He returned to Kyōto that day.
This is one of the moments in the life of Meiji when the biographer would give anything for a glimpse into his reactions. How did he feel when he learned that Kagoshima, a highly important province, was on the brink of secession and likely to be joined in rebellion by other provinces? And how did he react to the possibility that his government’s troops might soon be fighting against those commanded by Saigō Takamori, who was not only the hero of the Restoration but a man for whom he had special affection? Perhaps the energy with which Meiji threw himself into routine visits may have been his way of putting such thoughts from his mind. The apathy he displayed during the rest of his stay in Kyōto may have stemmed from the same cause.
On February 16 Ōkubo arrived in Kōbe from Tōkyō and met with Itō Hirobumi and Kawamura Sumiyoshi. The three men had a prolonged discussion, after which Ōkubo and Itō left for Kyōto to meet with Sanjō Sanetomi. On the following day they (and Kido) went to the Gosho where they conferred for several hours in the presence of the emperor. Yamagata, who arrived late, also joined the discussion, and they agreed to send an imperial envoy to Kagoshima. The emperor summoned Prince Taruhito and commanded him to serve as his envoy. Taruhito planned to leave on February 18 aboard the steamship Meiji maru. The ship was about to sail when a message arrived from the Kumamoto garrison reporting that a spearhead of Kagoshima rebels had entered Kumamoto Prefecture, and it seemed likely fighting would break out at any moment. Taruhito’s departure was delayed.
The entrance into Kumamoto of Kagoshima troops commanded by Saigō began on the fourteenth. All accounts agree that Saigō was reluctant to initiate hostilities, but reports of his intended assassination had incensed his men. On the twelfth he, together with his lieutenants Kirino Toshiaki and Shinohara Kunimoto, had sent a letter to Ōyama Tsunayoshi, the governor of Kagoshima, announcing their intention of traveling with their soldiers to Tōkyō, where they intended to ask questions of the government.8 On the following day Ōyama in turn sent messages to Sanjō Sanetomi and several governors, informing them that Saigō and his escort would be passing through their prefectures on their way to Tōkyō. He also hinted at Saigō’s grievance, the alleged plot on his life.9 The same message was sent to the garrison.
Before an answer could be received, the Kagoshima army had moved into Kumamoto. Saigō’s army consisted of seven battalions of infantry plus artillery and support troops, a total of about 15,000 men,10 most of them provided with modern weapons. Even after word had been received that Saigō’s troops had crossed the border into Kumamoto, the emperor’s life in Kyōto at first remained undisturbed. On February 18, for example, he went to Tenryū-ji Village, where he visited the villa of the patriot and poet Yamanaka Ken (1822–1885). After lunch he watched fishermen catch carp in the Ōi River and inspected a paper mill.
That night Prime Minister Sanjō Sanetomi, having decided that there could be no mistaking the rebellious intent of the students of the Kagoshima private schools, conferred with Kido, Yamagata, Ōkubo, and Itō. The next morning he informed the emperor of the crisis, and the emperor issued the command to punish the rebels. Prince Taruhito was named general of the punitive expedition. Army Minister Yamagata Aritomo and Navy Minister Kawamura Sumiyoshi would assist him. The emperor announced his intention of remaining in Kyōto until the rebellion had been suppressed.
Six or seven inches of snow fell on the day Saigō’s army left Kagoshima, the heaviest snowfall in fifty years in that normally warm region. Although Saigō’s troops had been well trained and maintained discipline, the army must have presented a curious appearance. Saigō, Kirino, Shinohara, and the other top-ranking officers who had not resigned their commissions in the government forces wore the same uniforms as did the men they would fight. Others of Saigō’s officers wore naval uniforms, police uniforms, or the dress of civil servants. Officers wore a white armband indicating the unit to which they were attached, and a crepe silk or white cotton sash over their coats. A sword dangled from their left hip, and they carried bright red flags in their right hand. The costumes worn by ordinary soldiers were even stranger. Strangest of all was Murata Shimpachi, recently returned from abroad, who rode into battle attired in a swallow-tail coat and a derby.11
The objective of the Kagoshima soldiers was the capture of Kumamoto Castle, the center of government military strength in the southern half of Kyūshū. It was defended by conscripted soldiers, like those who had been slaughtered by the Shinpūren in the previous year. Morale was low, mainly because the men were intimidated by what they heard of the great Saigō, whose fame extended throughout the country.
The garrison could not hope for support from the Kumamoto samurai, some of whom were secretly in communication with the Kagoshima forces. The defenders’ only hope was to entrench themselves inside the castle and wait for relief from government troops. Then a fire broke out in the castle’s storehouse, reducing almost all the reserves of food to ashes. The garrison had no choice but to requisition food from nearby villages in preparation for what was anticipated would be a siege of some weeks in duration. On February 19 messengers sent by the governor of Kagoshima arrived and attempted to show the commandant, Major General Tani Tateki, three documents—Saigō’s original letter asking permission to go to Tōkyō, the governor’s response, and a transcript of Nakahara Hisao’s confession relating to the planned assassination. The documents were rejected, and the messengers were informed that if Saigō’s soldiers attempted to go by the castle, the defenders would have no choice but to stop them. The vanguard of Saigō’s army was now a bare five miles away.
The first shots of the war were exchanged on February 19. Units of the Kagoshima army attempted to force their way into Kumamoto Castle but were repulsed by cannon fire from the defenders. General Tani sent a telegram to army headquarters (now in Ōsaka) reporting the opening of
hostilities, and Yamagata forwarded the message to Sanjō Sanetomi in Kyōto. A message was sent from Kyōto to Tani urging him to hold firm and to destroy the rebels with one bold attack. The arrival of the first and second brigades was promised by February 25.
The main body of the rebel forces began their attack on the castle from two sides on the twenty-second. They stepped up the attack on the twenty-third but were unable to advance. This made them realize that the peasant-soldiers inside the castle were not as ineffectual as they had supposed, and they resigned themselves to a long siege.
On the night of February 22, in moonlight bright as day, the Kokura Fourteenth Regiment, commanded by Acting Major Nogi Maresuke (1849–1912), and rebel troops clashed. The rebels, raising war cries, fought at close quarters with drawn swords. The government troops fell back, unable to withstand the attack. Later that night in the midst of fierce fighting, the standard bearer of the regiment was killed and the regimental flag was lost. Nogi was horrified and tried, disregarding personal danger, to recapture the flag, but he was held back. The commander in chief of the expeditionary force never asked Nogi what had happened to the flag, preferring to overlook the incident, but Nogi did not forget it, and twenty-five years later he committed suicide to atone for the loss.
In the meantime, Kumamoto samurai began to desert in numbers to Saigō’s army, citing the government’s addiction to Western practices and the neglect of Japanese traditions which, they believed, had prevented Japan from regaining its ancient glory. Desertions by samurai of this persuasion soon swelled the ranks of Saigō’s army to some 20,000 men. The prevalence of sonnō jōi thought was not surprising in these samurai; they not only resented the changes that Westernization had brought to their lives but had been stirred by the heroic deaths of members of the Shinpūren. Saigō himself was not anti-Western (George Washington was one of his heroes), but the private school students displayed a strong element of jōi, as we can infer from the song they sang, which begins: