Emperor of Japan: Meiji and His World, 1852’1912 (16 page)

Behind this surprising development was the great intensification of pressure from supporters of
sonn
ō
j
ō
i
as their numbers swelled with malcontents and their actions became more reckless. Anyone who opposed them was likely to be threatened if not killed. Just a month earlier, Shimada Sakon, a retainer of Chancellor Kuj
ō
Hisatada, was attacked and killed. His head was exposed at Shij
ō
-kawara, and his severed limbs were thrown into the Takase River. This initiated a wave of terror, which the extremists called
tench
ū
, or “divine punishment.” When the shogunate showed itself powerless to suppress the disorder, the terrorists gained the upper hand. They singled out for special attack “four villains and two ladies,”
²⁴
members of the court whom they charged with responsibility for Kazunomiya’s marriage to the shogun. They found support among the nobles, and the
j
ō
i
faction now controlled some of the major domains. Despite his repeated statements of support for the shogunate, K
ō
mei declared at this critical moment that he had not in any way deviated from his sworn mission of
j
ō
i
,
²⁵
an avowal that probably encouraged the perpetrators of “divine punishment.”

It is hard to imagine what effect these developments may have had on Mutsuhito’s development. Was he still too young to understand what was happening in the world outside the Gosho? Or was he deliberately sheltered from the raging controversy and news of the murders? Or did even this prince, living deep within the Gosho, become aware, when people he had often seen at the court ceased to appear, that major changes had occurred? Did K
ō
mei explain to his son why he was always so agitated and fatigued? In any case, the harsh realities of the times were gradually intruding into a world that had been guided for centuries by traditional conceptions of order and decorum. Now change would be the rule.

Chapter 8

The changed relationship between the emperor and the shogun is vividly illustrated by an incident that occurred on January 17, 1863. The imperial envoy Sanj
ō
Sanetomi (1837–1891) and the vice envoy Anegak
ō
ji Kintomo (1839–1863) arrived at Edo Castle on this day with a message from Emperor K
ō
mei to be delivered to the shogun. The brief text reiterated his unswerving desire for every last foreigner to be expelled from the country. He urged the shogunate to decide on a concrete plan for putting
j
ō
i
into effect and to convey this plan without delay to the lords of the various domains. Once the plan had been carefully considered and approved by a majority, the ugly barbarians could be eradicated.
¹
What was unusual was not the content of the message, a restatement of views that K
ō
mei had often expressed, but the manner in which the letter was presented by the imperial envoy to the shogun.

It had been the custom when an imperial envoy had an audience with the shogun for the shogun to receive him while seated on the upper level
²
of the hall of audiences. The imperial envoy would prostrate himself on the lower level, following which a herald would announce his rank and name. Then the envoy, in response to a nod from the shogun, would move up to the upper level on his knees and, bowing low, transmit the message from the emperor. When he had finished, he would withdraw, still on his knees. Sanj
ō
Sanetomi, finding this practice repugnant and denigrating to imperial prestige, communicated to the Ky
ō
to deputy (
shugo
), Matsudaira Katamori, his wish that the shogunate show greater deference toward an envoy from the emperor.
³

Sanj
ō
’s protest was taken to heart, though presumably only after much debate in the shogunate. On this occasion, the envoy went directly to the upper level, and it was the shogun, at first seated on the middle level, who had to wait for a sign from the envoy before moving to the upper level in order to receive the imperial letter. It is hard to imagine a more striking example of the change in the relations between the shogunate and the court, but this was by no means the only instance of the shogunate’s new attitude of reverence toward the emperor.

The shogunate was faced with a dilemma. It clearly wished for better relations with the court, which necessitated obeying K
ō
mei’s injunction to expel the barbarians, but the most intelligent men in the shogunate—for example, Tokugawa Yoshinobu (1837–1913) and Matsudaira Yoshinaga (1828–1890)—were aware that opening the country was inevitable. The shogun probably had no alternative in the end but to reply to K
ō
mei in terms of assurances that he fully intended to carry out the principle of
j
ō
i
.

The change in the relative importance of the emperor and the shogun was quickly noticed by the leaders of the different domains, and many daimyos found it necessary to visit Ky
ō
to. The shogunate had strictly prohibited them from entering the capital, and the normal route taken by daimyos on their way to Edo from the west of Japan skirted the city of Ky
ō
to; but at this juncture the prohibition had lost force, and daimyos now called regularly in Ky
ō
to. Indeed, the center of politics had moved from Edo to Ky
ō
to. Profiting by the sudden increase in its importance, the court used the influence of the visiting daimyos to persuade the shogunate to change features in the system that it found objectionable. This was the first time in at least 500 years that the emperor possessed such political importance. The main thrust of court politics was not, however, aimed at securing greater power for the emperor but at achieving the goal of
j
ō
i
.

The change affected the nobles as well. Until this time they had nothing to do with national politics; instead, their political concerns were restricted to the palace and its ceremonies. Now, however, nobles began to take an active part in the government, a step toward the restoration of imperial authority.

The new importance of the emperor was underlined in 1863 when the shogun visited the capital, the first time there had been such a visit in more than 200 years. Iemochi wished to demonstrate both his reverence for the court and his profound desire to achieve
k
ō
bu gattai
. The shogun was preceded by his most important advisers, including Tokugawa Yoshinobu, who visited the palace on February 27 and was received by the emperor. Three days later, Yoshinobu called at the Gakush
ū
-in, the school for sons of the nobility founded by K
ō
mei’s father. On this occasion he proposed that the old practice of requiring junior members of the imperial family to enter Buddhist orders be discontinued; instead, they should be named
shinn
ō
(princes of the blood) and allowed to remain in the laity. He also proposed that after many years of confinement in the Gosho, the emperor should tour the country in the spring and autumn in the manner of the monarchs of olden times. Finally, he suggested that Prince Son’yu (who had been condemned to perpetual confinement during the Ansei purge) be allowed to return to the laity. All three proposals were calculated to ingratiate him (and the shogun) with the emperor.

The last proposal was quickly implemented: on March 18 an imperial command was issued to Prince Son’yu enjoining him to let his hair grow out.
⁴
Before long Prince Nakagawa, as he was now known,
⁵
became the confidant of the emperor, the member of the court he most trusted. He has attracted curiously little attention from modern scholars, but he was not only a power behind the throne
⁶
but a man of considerable influence whose career was marked by vicissitudes suggested by his frequent changes of name. His presence at the Sh
ō
ren-in, especially during the early 1860s, was a magnet drawing patriots from all over the country.

The enhanced political importance of Ky
ō
to at this time, confirmed by the shogun’s visit, did not mollify the extremists, who maintained their loathing of anyone suspected of collaborating with the shogunate. Another wave of terrorist activity swept over the capital. Some men were killed, and others were threatened with death. On the night of March 10, 1863, four assailants killed the Confucian physician Ikeuchi Daigaku (1811–1863). The murderers, following the tradition of such assassinations, left behind a note explaining why they had killed Ikeuchi:

This individual always enjoyed the favor of exalted personages. In the period around 1858 he allied himself with samurai of just principles and exercised himself on their behalf in various ways but in the end betrayed them, entering into communication with corrupt officials and causing the deaths of many loyal samurai from different domains, in this way himself escaping punishment. His crimes are such that heaven and earth cannot hold him. For this reason, divine punishment has been administered, and his head is exposed.
⁷

Ikeuchi had been one of four heroes of the
j
ō
i
faction, along with Umeda Umpin, Yanagawa Seigan, and Rai Mikisabur
ō
. At the time of the Ansei purge, the shogunate, considering Ikeuchi to be particularly dangerous, pursued him. In the end he gave himself up, but instead of being put to death, he was released after a relatively brief imprisonment, giving rise to the suspicion that he must have cooperated with the shogunate.

Not content with just killing Ikeuchi, his assailants cut off his ears, delivering one to Nakayama Tadayasu and the other to
Ō
gimachisanj
ō
Sanenaru, together with notes warning that unless they resigned their positions, they would be dealt with in the same manner. These nobles were accused of being two-faced—in public advocating righteous action but in private favoring compromise and halfhearted measures. The assassins asserted that moreover, the two men had taken bribes in return for services rendered to the cause of
k
ō
bu gattai
; this, they declared, had led to their hatred. Tadayasu was enraged by the false accusations made against him, but in the end both he and
Ō
gimachisanj
ō
, alarmed by the threat to their lives, resigned their posts, pleading ill health. Tadayasu was replaced by Sanj
ō
Sanetomi as the guardian of Prince Mutsuhito.

Incidents of violence and intimidation multiplied in 1863 as samurai and
r
ō
nin
, intoxicated with the principle of
j
ō
i
, went on a rampage, killing and maiming; and they kept up tension in the city by circulating false rumors. There were more than seventy incidents of murder, arson, and intimidation during the year, each explained by a statement left by the head of the victim or pasted on a wall. The shogunate authorities were powerless to control the disorders, and it was left to the court—in whose name the outrages were committed—to remonstrate with the unruly “patriots.” The emperor, never wavering in his support of the shogunate, gave orders for samurai belonging to the sixteen domains stationed in the capital to assemble at the Gakush
ū
-in, where they were instructed not to meddle in politics and especially not to throw unsigned missives into the houses of gentlemen. They were told that if they had complaints, they should send them under their signature to a responsible official. The emperor also summoned the daimyos of the sixteen domains and directed the chancellor to inform them of his views on carrying out
j
ō
i
. He urged them to feel free in the future to visit the Gakush
ū
-in and express their views, especially on matters pertaining to national defense.

Living people were not the only victims of the violence. On March 11 nine men broke into a hall at the T
ō
ji-in containing wooden statues of the Ashikaga shoguns, cut off the heads of the first three, and carried them to the Sanj
ō
Bridge, where they were displayed with signs explaining the crime of each.
⁸
The gesture was interpreted by persons of the time as a covert attack on the Tokugawa shoguns, and the representatives of the shogunate in Ky
ō
to were quick to respond. The perpetrators of the crime were arrested, and the appropriate punishment was much debated.
⁹