Emperor of Japan: Meiji and His World, 1852’1912 (72 page)

Perhaps Grant’s most important contribution to the arts came as the result of watching a program of n
ō
plays at the residence of Iwakura Tomomi. Just at a time when Iwakura had decided to support the revival of n
ō
, Grant arrived in Japan and indicated to Iwakura that he would like to see Japan’s classical arts. This was hardly typical of Grant. In Europe he had been invited to the opera frequently and thought of it as “a constant threat.” When invited to the opera in Madrid by the United States minister, the poet John Russell Lowell, “After five minutes he claimed that the only noise he could distinguish from any other was the bugle call and asked Mrs. Lowell, ‘Haven’t we had enough of this?’”
⁴⁷

Grant’s reactions to n
ō
were quite different. He is reported to have been profoundly moved by the program consisting of H
ō
sh
ō
Kur
ō
in
Mochizuki
, Kong
ō
Taiichir
ō
in
Tsuchigumo
, and Miyake Sh
ō
ichi in the
ky
ō
gen Tsurigitsune
. Afterward he said to Iwakura, “It is easy for a noble and elegant art like this one, being influenced by the times, to lose its dignity and fall into a decline. You should treasure it and preserve it.”
⁴⁸

These words, coming from a foreign dignitary, were not ignored. Iwakura realized more than ever the necessity of saving n
ō
and, enlisting the support of former daimyos and members of the nobility, took active steps to ensure its survival. On August 14 a special performance at his residence was attended by the emperor, the prime minister, four councillors, and other dignitaries. The revival of n
ō
was definitely under way.

General Grant took leave of the emperor at a ceremony held in the palace on August 30. Grant expressed his gratitude for the kind and joyful reception he had received everywhere. He had noticed that in Japan there were neither extremely rich nor extremely poor people, a praiseworthy situation that he had not observed elsewhere during his journey. The country was blessed with fertile soil; large areas of undeveloped land; many mines that had yet to be exploited; good harbors where huge, almost limitless catches of fish were unloaded; and, above all, an industrious, contented, and thrifty people. Nothing was wanting in Japan’s plan to achieve wealth and strength. He urged the Japanese not to let foreigners interfere in their internal government, so as to enable the country to amass wealth and not be forced to depend on other countries. He concluded by saying that his wishes for the complete independence and prosperity of Japan were not his alone but were shared by the entire American people. He ardently hoped that the emperor and the people would enjoy the blessings of Heaven.
⁴⁹

The emperor thanked Grant in a brief speech. According to Young, he read it in a clear, pleasant voice, quite a contrast from the inaudible whispers of his first encounters with foreigners. Here is how Young described his last impressions of the emperor: “The emperor is not what you would call a graceful man, and his manners are those of an anxious person not precisely at his ease—wishing to please and make no mistake. But in this farewell audience he seemed more easy and natural than when we had seen him before.”
⁵⁰

Grant’s visit had been an immense success in all respects save one: it did not enable him to get reelected as president. But he would not forget Japan, and the Japanese, from the emperor down, would remember this unaffected man who behaved so little like a hero.

Chapter 32

On August 31, 1879, Meiji’s third son was born to the
gon no tenji
Yanagihara Naruko. The emperor and empress at once sent infant clothes and a “protective sword” to the Aoyama Lying-in Chamber, and that night the imperial birth was celebrated at a congratulatory dinner. Nakayama Tadayasu, Meiji’s grandfather, was appointed as the prince’s guardian, but because of his advanced age,
Ō
gimachi Sanenori was chosen to assist him. On September 6 the emperor bestowed on the prince the name Yoshihito; he would also be known as Harunomiya.
¹

The birth of the prince, duly reported to the gods, was celebrated with traditional rituals and a banquet attended by members of the imperial family, cabinet ministers, councillors, palace dignitaries, and the parents of Yanagihara Naruko. No doubt the atmosphere was festive, but surely many of those present were aware that the birth had been exceedingly difficult, and everyone knew that Meiji’s first two sons had died in infancy. Perhaps that is why, breaking with precedent, the ministers did not offer congratulations.

From the day the prince was born, he suffered from a rash that covered his body. The scabs dissolved by September 23, and he was given a hip-bath, but it had an adverse effect. On the following day, spasms, starting in his abdomen, gradually spread to his chest. A mucous cough aggravated the pain. The spasms at last diminished by three in the morning, but the infant had still not recovered entirely, and there were frequent, though milder, recurrences that caused the emperor and empress great anxiety. The palace doctors tried every remedy, including acupuncture, and the aged Tadayasu spent days and nights watching over his great-grandchild. Not until December did the prince’s illness subside, and even then the attacks recurred every nine days. The baby’s mother, Yanagihara Naruko, did not recover her health after the birth, and because the quarters in the Lying-in Chamber were crowded, she was sent back to her apartment in the palace.
²

The emperor did not get his first glimpse of Yoshihito until December 4. That afternoon, after exercising his horse on the riding ground, he went, still on horseback, to the Aoyama Lying-in Chamber. Nakayama Yoshiko (the emperor’s mother) carried the prince in her arms to the emperor, who expressed delight with his son. On the following day the empress paid a visit to her nominal son. It had been decided as far back as September 30 that the prince, who would be considered as the empress’s son, would be brought up initially (like his father) at the house of Nakayama Tadayasu; but he suffered a fresh outbreak of illness that day, and his departure was delayed. The move did not take place until December 7. On December 28 the prince, having reached his 120th day of life, had his “first chopsticks” ceremony at the Nakayama house, but the prince’s health continued to worry the emperor, and for fear of provoking spasms, he treated the prince with greater indulgence than he ever showed his other children.

Other matters than his son’s health occupied the emperor’s attention at this time. By this time he was recognized as a “cousin” by the royal houses of Europe, and he accordingly received regular and prolonged visits from foreign royalty. Prince Heinrich of Germany brought Meiji a decoration from his government, the first time any Asian monarch had been so honored. This was also the first foreign decoration that Meiji wore. He received from the duke of Genoa, a somewhat later visitor, the Annunciade, Italy’s highest military decoration, and responded by bestowing the Grand Order of the Chrysanthemum on the duke and showing him how to wear it. The emperor also received a bust of himself and portraits of himself and the empress made by the Milanese artist Giuseppe Ugolini.
³

Apart from visits by foreign royalty, the emperor was regularly informed of events in the lives of other monarchs. He responded correctly to his “cousins,” sending messages of congratulation to Alfonso XII of Spain on his remarriage and to the czar of Russia on his narrow escape from assassins.
⁴

Matters closer to home also demanded the emperor’s attention. In October 1879 some members of the government made a concerted attempt to get rid of Soejima Taneomi by sending him abroad on an unspecified mission. Kuroda Kiyotaka, the leader of the anti-Soejima faction, claimed that foreign newspapers had accused Soejima of having expressed in lectures delivered before the emperor opinions contrary to government policy and of having, while he was foreign minister, colluded with a foreigner—the American general Charles LeGendre—when dealing with the Taiwan incident. Kuroda’s charges were supported by other high-ranking officials, including Councillor Saig
ō
Tsugumichi, but
Ō
kuma Shigenobu declared that if Soejima were dismissed, he would resign. It
ō
Hirobumi praised Soejima’s scholarship but said that Soejima was not trusted by most people because of his extreme conservatism. He favored sending Soejima abroad to examine political conditions so that he might improve his already superior understanding of the West. It
ō
suggested that Soejima might be permitted at some future date to rejoin the cabinet.

When asked to render a decision, the emperor conferred with his Confucian adviser Motoda Nagazane, who strongly defended Soejima. He said that he had heard the lectures Soejima had delivered in the presence of the emperor and considered that they embodied profound respect for the majesty of the imperial house and contributed to the exaltation of the imperial virtue. He believed that it was entirely beneficial for the emperor to use Soejima and that he, Motoda, had not detected anything harmful in his words. Kuroda had never heard any of Soejima’s lectures and therefore lacked firm evidence for his accusations. To believe unfounded reports, and on this basis to seek to get rid of Soejima, was to question the wisdom of His Majesty. If one were to believe everything that appeared in the newspapers, how many of the cabinet would escape being removed? If Kuroda’s self-serving proposal to get rid of Soejima were adopted, this action would surely be widely criticized; but if Kuroda, annoyed that his proposal was rejected, asked to be relieved of his post and permission were granted, would anyone question this decision by the emperor?
⁵

The emperor, not rushing into a decision, conferred several times with Motoda, whose opinions he highly valued. Motoda answered with increasing bluntness. He attributed to personal rancor Kuroda’s urging that Soejima be removed from his position. There was no fault to find with Soejima; even if 10 million people hated him, the emperor should continue to employ him. Soejima had been employed as the emperor’s tutor for only seven months and had not even completed his lectures on the
Great Learning
. How could anyone propose that he be sent abroad at this stage? Even if Kuroda resigned as councillor, there would still be nine other councillors, but if Soejima left, not only would it deprive the emperor of one of the rare people who could contribute to his learning, but it would encourage dissident elements to attack the government, resulting in incalculable harm. In the end Motoda’s eloquence carried the day: the emperor decided not to allow Soejima to be sent abroad. Kuroda, who had threatened to resign if his advice was not heeded, remained in office.
⁶

At this distance from the events, it seems clear that some personal (or domain-based) enmity was behind the insistence of Kuroda and other Satsuma men that Soejima be removed from his post. But the incident is noteworthy for another reason. One sometimes gets the impression that all the Meiji government’s decisions were made by consensus, but this is an instance when the emperor, relying on Motoda, a man above political factionalism, made a decision that differed from the opinions of the majority of his ministers.

About the same time the emperor abolished the office of
jiho
, or adviser, which had been created a little more than two years earlier.
⁷
Although the
jiho
included extremely distinguished men—Tokudaiji Sanetsune, Sasaki Takayuki, and Motoda Nagazane—from the first they were prevented from carrying out their assigned duty of counseling the emperor, by members of the government who accused them of craving power. It
ō
compared their would-be meddling in the government with the evils of the eunuchs in China and predicted that this would confuse the functions of the palace and the government. In the end the frustrated
jiho
, angered over being compared with the notoriously corrupt eunuchs and equally angered over Kuroda’s attempts to get rid of the
jiho
Soejima, requested that their office be abolished, providing that the ministers and councillors would carry out the functions of
jiho
in addition to their prescribed duties. The cabinet eventually decided to abolish the
jiho
and assigned ministers and councillors to palace duties similar to theirs.

The emperor seems not to have welcomed this decision. On October 20, a week after the office of
jiho
was abolished, he summoned Tokudaiji, Sasaki, Motoda, and the others and informed them that even though the
jiho
had been abolished, if ever they had something to tell him, they should do so without reserve. He personally presented them with bolts of silk and invited them to lunch with the prime minister and the minister of the right. This was not the only instance of a decision by the politicians that displeased Meiji, although they always insisted that their actions were intended to carry out the imperial will.