by Donald Keene
The Japanese and British repeatedly protested. At first the Japanese protests were muted because Itō Hirobumi and Foreign Minister Nishi Tokujirō (who had studied at the University of St. Petersburg) believed in the importance of an understanding with Russia. They continued to hope that if Russia’s ambitions in Manchuria were satisfied, it would recognize Japanese preeminence in Korea.
Itō visited Russia in November 1901 and was received cordially by the Russians. He was presented with the Gold Cordon of St. Alexander Nevsky, and the czar urged him to return to Japan by the Trans-Siberian Railway. Count Sergei Witte assured Itō that Russia sought nothing in Korea and was glad to permit Japan to operate freely there. In fact, the Russians were willing to make only nominal concessions in Korea and wanted in return a free hand in Manchuria. Itō was much disappointed. He still hoped to obtain concessions from Russia, but the Japanese government decided instead to proceed with the Anglo-Japanese Alliance and no longer sought an alliance with Russia.12 All the same, both Japan and Russia still wanted to preserve the peace.
During 1902 the Japanese continued to strengthen their position in Korea, building up a nucleus of pro-Japanese Korean politicians. A large number of Japanese decided to settle in southeastern Korea, and Japan gradually took control of mines, the post, and telegraph. At this time Japan acquired a new ally, the United States, which had traditionally refused to become entangled in foreign affairs. Early in 1902, Theodore Roosevelt, who had become president a few months earlier, sent a message to Emperor Meiji expressing his friendship. He joined with Japan and Britain in warning China that special rights granted to Russia would be in contravention of the Open Door policy.13 The chief reason for American participation was the fear that the Russification of not only Manchuria but also North China would seriously hamper American trade with China.
In January 1901 the Kokuryūkai (Amur River Society)14was founded with the professed aims of pan-Asianism and the removal of the Russians from Manchuria to the Amur River, the frontier between Manchuria and Siberia. In September the Kokumin dōmeikai (Peoples’ Alliance), formed by Prince Konoe Atsumaro, recommended measures to prevent the Russians from occupying Manchuria permanently and advocated Japanese construction of railways in Korea and Manchuria.15 These and similar groups founded at this time were fully aware that if their policies were adopted, this might lead to war with Russia.
The construction of railways was important to the Japanese for trade and eventual control of Korea, but to the Russians, the Trans-Siberian Railway represented an almost mystical conception. A guide to the railway published in 1900 stated,
The civilizing policy of Russia in the East, which may be regarded as an exception to that of other countries, was guided by other principles and was directed to the mutual welfare of nations by the maintenance of peace throughout the immense extent of her dominions. The honour of having planted the flag of Christianity and civilisation in Asia is due to Russia.16
Among the sponsors of the railway none was more active than Count Witte, the minister of finance. He pushed forward the project relentlessly, without regard to cost, and the railway was rapidly extended. It was almost unbelievable that a country that had always lagged behind the advanced nations of Europe should have embarked on such an immense project, but it was sustained by an “imperialist drive.” A railway battle between Russia and Japan seemed inevitable.
In August 1902 at the request of the czar, Count Witte traveled to the Far East where he visited Vladivostok, Port Arthur, and Dairen. He was dismayed by what he saw and on his return to Russia went to the Crimea to convey to the czar his impressions of the enormity of the problems Russia faced in colonizing Siberia. He later submitted a report in which he wrote that normality could return to East Asia only if the Russians withdrew their troops from Manchuria. He also emphasized the need for an agreement with Japan, predicting that without it, things would go very badly.17
In April 1902 Russia had signed an agreement with China to withdraw its troops gradually from Manchuria, providing that no disturbances arose. The Russians also agreed to restore to the owners a railway line that they had occupied since 1900. Japan and England greeted this announcement with enthusiasm as a triumph for the Open Door policy, but the proviso that there must be no disturbances left a large loophole for the Russians, as disturbances were frequent in that part of the world. Count Witte later admitted that there had never been any serious intention of carrying out the evacuation treaty.18
Apart from the tensions with Russia, 1902 was uneventful for Emperor Meiji. The health and progress of the crown prince continued to worry him, although the prince was surprisingly diligent in his studies this year. Dr. Erwin Baelz, finding the relationship between the emperor and his son disagreeably cold and distant, wrote in his diary,
When he [the crown prince] visits his father, it is always in an extremely ceremonial fashion, and numerous officials are present. Should he fall ill, the Emperor makes frequent enquiries after the health of his son, but does not visit him unless the illness is so severe as to endanger life.19
In May the crown prince set out on a tour of prefectures in central and northern Honshū. Before he left, the emperor gave orders that since the object of the junkō was for the prince to observe customs and geography, local officials should not be kept from their work by welcoming, seeing off, or waiting on him.20 The journey was in fact carried out with the simplicity the emperor had prescribed and could not have been very exciting to the crown prince. He visited schools, the Zenkō-ji in Nagano, local legislative bodies, factories, and other noteworthy places. The junkō was cut short when word came of an epidemic of measles in Fukushima.
A slight indisposition contracted during the journey gave the crown prince an excuse to recuperate for a month in his beloved Hayama. The birth of his second son was celebrated at the end of June by members of the imperial family and other dignitaries, but the crown prince (though informed) remained in Hayama. The emperor gave the newly born prince the name Yasuhito, with the title of Atsunomiya.21
In the meantime, a palace was being erected for the crown prince. The initial budget of 2.5 million yen had been approved by the emperor, but at the beginning of August the officer in charge of construction reported that costs had risen because of inflation. The new estimate for the palace, scheduled to be completed in 1907, was 5 million yen, a huge sum for the time. The emperor, who had insisted on simplicity and economy when his own palace was built in 1889, was appalled by the estimated cost of the prince’s palace and later that year directed the architects to avoid fancy decorations and to concentrate on sturdy construction. The emperor gave strict orders that no further requests might be submitted for additional funds.22
The willingness of the Japanese government to spend so much money on a palace for the crown prince indicates that it did not anticipate the outbreak of war. Relations between the Japanese and Russian courts continued to be friendly. On August 27, for example, the emperor sent the czar a telegram thanking him for the cordial reception given to Prince Akihito while he was in Russia. But some men predicted war and urged suitable preparation. In a memorial to the throne on national defense, Yamamoto Gonnohyōe (1852–1933), the navy minister, described how the emperor’s contribution of personal funds for building warships had brought about victory in the war with China. He declared,
It would seem that in the lands of the Orient, ominous clouds and baleful mists have now been happily cleared away, but I fear that in all probability the situation in China and Korea contains seeds of disaster imminently threatening the peace. At present the Imperial Navy may be said to reign supreme in the Orient, but military preparations of the powers are advancing rapidly. This is true especially of the neighboring power that has recently expanded its navy and plans before long to have a fleet in the Orient many times stronger than the empire’s. If an emergency should arise, will the sea-girded empire of Japan be able to sleep in peace?23
Yamamoto asked for a total of 115 million yen w
ith which to build and equip three first-class battleships, three first-class cruisers, and two second-class cruisers. Needless to say, the power against which Japan had to defend itself was Russia, whose eastward advance was deplored by the genrō when they approved this request for naval expansion.
In November 1902 Meiji set out for Kumamoto Prefecture to observe special grand maneuvers. An outbreak of cholera had occurred some months earlier, and the disease had been rampant. Whether or not to call off the imperial visit was debated, but fortunately, with the return of cool weather in October, the epidemic had subsided. On November 7 the emperor boarded a train at Shimbashi Station, seen off by the empress and the crown princess. The crown prince, still in Hayama, sent a chamberlain to Ōfuna Station to watch as the imperial train sped by.24
The emperor’s journey to Kumamoto was made in leisurely stages with stops along the way. He composed tanka at various places, the most memorable as the train passed Tabaruzaka, the site of the fierce battle in 1877 between the government armies and Saigō Takamori:
mononofu no At Tabaruzaka
semetatakaishi Where warriors once attacked
Tabaruzaka And fought in battle,
matsu mo oiki ni Now even the sapling pines
narinikeru kana Have turned into aged trees.25
He presented this poem to Lieutenant General Nogi Maresuke, a member of his escort, no doubt because Nogi had fought in the battle at Tabaruzaka. Nogi’s poem was more vivid:
no ni yama ni In fields and mountains
uchijini nashishi Where my friends fought and found
tomobito no Death in battle
chi no iro misuru The autumn leaves on the trees
kigi no momijiba Show the color of their blood.
The emperor’s renewed interest in poetic composition was probably the most positive aspect of the journey. He usually enjoyed going on maneuvers, but this time he was strangely uninterested, and he even had a fit of temper on November 14 when a banquet was held in the castle for members of the imperial family and many high-ranking persons, both Japanese and foreign. The banquet was to begin at 2:30 that afternoon, but when Chief Chamberlain Tokudaiji informed the emperor that it was time to leave for the banqueting hall, he refused to go. The guests in the banquet hall were worried when the emperor failed to appear, wondering what had happened. General Yamagata stopped an attendant and demanded why the emperor was so late when the guests were eagerly waiting for him. When he failed to get a satisfactory answer, Yamagata himself went to the emperor and urged him to attend the banquet. The emperor refused, saying that he had his reasons.
Yamagata, astonished by this response, told the emperor that officers and men had been deeply moved and encouraged to see how the emperor, following the traditions of Emperor Jimmu, had day after day exposed himself to the elements. He imagined how disappointed they would be if he failed to appear at the banquet and reminded the emperor that his every action served as a model for his worshipful subjects. If now, without reason, he refused to appear, this would dampen the ardor of the entire army and disappoint the officials and people of the region. The emperor might be indifferent to the possibility that people might doubt his wisdom, but he, Yamagata, could not endure this. His voice rose with excitement as he concluded, begging the emperor to change his mind and go to the banquet hall.
The emperor, interrupting him, said, “When the plan for me to go to the west first came up, the officials asked to cancel it because of a cholera epidemic, but the military were against this and said that as long as strict control was exerted over what I ate and drank, there was no danger of infection. They claimed it would make a tremendous difference to the morale of the troops whether or not I went and begged me to make the trip. I decided they were right and made the journey. Ever since I arrived, the officials have been all fear and trembling about my health and have taken every precaution with the kitchen. I have also been extremely careful, as you are well aware. Now the maneuvers have ended. A banquet like the one today has only one purpose—to reward people who took part. I am still being careful about what I eat and drink, and I don’t feel like attending. That’s why I am not going. But you come here and keep insisting that I go. You urged me to travel to the west on condition that I was careful in what I ate and drank, but now you are forcing me attend a party where there will be food and drink. Are you and the rest trying to have fun at my expense?”
The emperor’s expression was extremely severe. Although filled with fear and trepidation, Yamagata persisted, and finally the emperor yielded and sent for his carriage. It was now 3:20. As soon as the carriage reached the banquet hall, the emperor went to his seat and, after nodding to those present, left immediately, without touching the liquor or food.26
It is difficult to understand why the emperor was so determined not to attend the banquet. Perhaps it was simply that he had been tired by maneuvers and was not feeling well; but he may have resented being manipulated by men who, although they pretended to worship him, gave no consideration to his wishes. Nobody asked if he wished to travel to Kumamoto; Yamagata and the other leaders of the government decided he would go, even though there was danger of cholera infection. Now Yamagata was insisting that he attend the banquet, regardless of his wishes. The commands that the emperor do this or that were phrased in reverential language, but they were commands all the same, and the emperor was greatly annoyed.
The emperor did not enjoy the Kumamoto maneuvers, but on the return journey he directed his military attaché (jijū bukan) to compose a war song commemorating the occasion:
Meiji sanjū / yū go nen
koro wa shimotsuki / nakabagoro
daigensui no / mihata wo ba
Hi no Kumamoto ni / susumerare …
In the five and thirtieth year of Meiji
Along about the middle of November
Our commander in chief advanced his flag
To Kumamoto in the land of Hi …
The rest of the poem describes both the maneuvers and the return journey, referring also (by mentioning a captured Chinese warship) to the Japanese victory in the Sino-Japanese War:
ryūgan itomo / uruwashiku
Tsukushi no kisha ni / mesaretsutsu
kangyo no roji mo / Chōshū naru
oki ni wa Saien / teihaku shi …27
His dragon countenance extremely pleased
He boarded a train in Tsukushi
And on the way back, off the Chōshū coast,
The Chi-yüan was anchored …
At the end of December 1902, the House of Representatives was again dissolved, this time because of the failure of the government’s proposal to raise property taxes in order to pay for a bigger navy. The opposition parties, headed by Itō Hirobumi’s Seiyūkai, were against the plan. The impasse was not resolved by repeated suspensions of the Diet by the emperor, and on the twenty-eighth the House of Representatives voted in favor of dissolution and a new election on March 1, 1903.
The only novelty in the New Year rituals for 1903 was the choice of subject for the lecture on Western history delivered before the emperor on January 6. This year it was devoted to the section of William H. Prescott’s History of the Reign of Ferdinand and Isabella the Catholic describing Columbus’s appeal for funds for his exploration. As usual, there is no indication if Meiji was interested in this lecture, but now, when his country was about to acquire colonies and join the imperialistic powers, he may have wished that a Japanese endowed with the vision of Columbus would appear before him and promise an empire.
But whatever dreams Meiji may have had concerning the future expansion of Japan, with respect to matters closer at hand he remained conservative. On January 9 Sasaki Takayuki, who was charged with the education of Princesses Masako and Fusako, sent word to the chief chamberlain that he was thinking of moving the girls to a place on the coast where they could escape the cold of the Tōkyō winter. When the emperor was consulted, he refused to allow the princesses to leave the city. He reasoned that they
were approaching marriageable age and that when a woman married, she had to accommodate herself to the ways of the family she joined. The family into which a woman married might not be sufficiently rich to travel in order to avoid the cold and heat. If the princesses grew accustomed to spending every summer and winter outside the city, this would become a habit, and it might not be easy for them to discard it. It might even be bad for their health. It would be better for them to learn to endure cold and heat. The princesses would spend this winter in Tōkyō. If outdoor exercise was necessary for their health, they might from time to time visit one of the detached palaces or imperial properties.28
Although he himself never went anywhere to escape the heat or cold, the emperor did not insist that the crown prince remain in Tōkyō. Probably he feared that heat or cold might seriously affect the prince’s health. He may also have feared that forcing the prince to do what he disliked might bring on convulsions or some other nervous disorder, as it had in the past. The crown prince was the one member of the imperial family who lived as he pleased.
On February 2 the crown prince’s tutor, Prince Takehito, expressed to the emperor his belief that the office of tutor should be abolished. He said that the crown prince of late not only had made great progress in his studies but was even inclined to study on his own, and his illness had gradually subsided. He believed that the time had come for the prince to be more independent. Now that he was twenty-five years old, people thought it was strange that he should still need a tutor, and this reflected on the imperial household. The emperor responded that if having a tutor was considered inappropriate for the crown prince now that he was a grown man, the title should be changed. In other words, the emperor believed that the prince still needed a tutor, regardless of the title. When consulted by Takehito at the end of the previous month, Itō Hirobumi had also expressed the opinion that the prince still required a tutor, but he recognized that Takehito was exhausted by the physical and mental strain to which he had been subjected for some years, that it would be inhumane to ask him to continue. On February 6 Takehito’s title was changed to the crown prince’s adviser, but his duties remained the same.29