The Perilous Brink of Freedom
Ryoma : Life of a Renaissance Samurai
by Hillsborough, Romulus
PROLOGUE
"...any life which merits living lies in the effort to realize some dream, and the higher that dream is the harder it is to realize."
Eugene O'Neill
Prologue
The year was 1867 and Ryoma was beside himself with anxiety. The outlaw-samurai was waiting at his Kyoto hideout for an answer to the single most important question in Japan: Would the Shogun restore the Emperor to power, peacefully relinquishing his family s rule of two and a half centuries? Or would the great samurai clans of the southwest, Imperial edict in hand, declare war on the Shogun's military government at Edo, causing chaos throughout the nation, and possible attack from the foreign powers of the West?
Waiting with Ryoma were fellow ronin-outlaw-samurai who had abandoned their clans to fight for the Loyalist cause of overthrowing the Shogunate, restoring Imperial rule and fortifying the Japanese nation in the face of foreign subjugation. The atmosphere at Ryoma s hideout was tense. Should word arrive that the Shogun refused to relinquish power, Ryoma and his men were prepared to attack Nijo Castle, assassinate the Shogun, then cut open their bellies in defiance.
But why would the leader of a band of outlaws be among the first to hear of the Shogun's momentous decision? How could Sakamoto Ryoma, a petty samurai, command the respect of feudal lords throughout Japan?
Theirs was a bloody time of the arrival of "Black Ships" from the West, political intrigue, turbulence and assassination, in which Sakamoto Ryoma-outlaw-samurai, pistol-bearing swordsman, freedom-fighter, pioneering naval commander, entrepreneur and statesman, a youth ahead of his time with an imagination as boundless as the Pacific Ocean-was a leader in the revolution to overthrow the shogunate and form a unified democracy in Japan.
Part I
Forging the Dragon
Black Ships
The polished dark wooden floor of the Hineno Fencing Dojo reflected the late morning sunlight which filtered into the room through four small windows. The muscular youth wore a pair of wide trousers of dark blue cotton, a robe of the same material and color, and a quilted vest lined with pliant strips of bamboo. Protective gloves covered the backs of his hands, a shield protected his face. His long hair was disheveled after a hard practice session, his body covered with sweat.
At five feet, ten inches tall, the youth towered over the middle-aged sword master. Armed with a bamboo practice sword, he walked steadily to the center of the floor. The clean smell of sweat calmed him, and prepared him for a battle which he knew must end in death.
Master and pupil bowed to one another. The pupil slowly raised his sword to face-level, his dark brown eyes focused on his master's, his bare feet planted firmly on the wooden floor, his face devoid of expression. He broke the silence with a piercing guttural wail, as the master intercepted the attack a fraction of an inch above his right temple. Master Hineno countered with lightning speed, slashing downward across Ryoma s abdomen, then up the side of his chest to the base of his jaw. "That's all," the sword master firmly commanded, and the match was over.
Had Ryoma not been born into a samurai household, he might never have touched a sword, and certainly would not have been molded into an expert swordsman by age seventeen. Ryoma's family, in fact, derived from a prosperous sake brewer. In 1770 the sake brewer purchased the rank of merchant-samurai, which, although among the bottom rungs of the two-sworded class, was nevertheless included among the warrior caste. This distinction placed the Sakamoto family among the topmost of the four levels of feudal society: samurai, peasant, craftsman and merchant, in this respective order. The samurai Sakamoto Ryoma was born in the castletown of Kochi, capital of the great domain of Tosa, on the Japanese island of Shikoku, on the fifteenth day of the eleventh month of the sixth year of the Era of Heaven's Protection, or by Western reckoning, November 15, 1835.
According to one legend Ryoma's pregnant mother dreamt of a fire-breathing beast-half dragon, half horse-which came "flying into her womb." Another fantastic story tells that Ryoma was sired by his mother's pet torn cat, since the woman was accustomed to sleeping with the furry creature cuddled between her belly and thighs. A third story has it that Ryoma's father thus named the infant because he was born with a face full of moles, and hair covering his back. But as these accounts are mere legend, their validity remains an eternal mystery, while the name Ryoma, "Dragon-Steed," remains an eternal symbol of freedom.
Ryoma's closest companion during childhood was his elder sister, Otome. Though just three years older, Otome had raised Ryoma from his eleventh year, after the death of their mother. Otome was as large as her sizable younger brother, and skilled in the martial arts of fencing, wrestling, riding and swimming. She never despaired of Ryoma, who until the age of fourteen had the reputation among his peers as a "runny-nosed, bed-wetting crybaby." Ryoma's father and elder brother were embarrassed by his disposition, which was unbecoming of a samurai. When the family was informed by the local schoolmaster that Ryoma was not only constantly bullied by his classmates for his propensity to wet his pants and cry, but that he did not have the mental capacity for scholarship, both father and brother worried that Ryoma was mentally retarded.
Otome, however, decided that if Ryoma was not suited for scholarship, then he would take up the study of swordsmanship. She soon enrolled him at the Hineno Dojo, a local fencing academy. At first, Ryoma seemed no more inclined for kenjutsu than he had been for intellectual pursuit. He was constantly getting hit with a practice sword on the backs of his hands and the side of his head, and thrown to the hard wooden floor, at which time he would inevitably cry. After a few months of training, however, a big change began to appear in Ryoma. He thrived on the rigorous practice. No matter how hard he was hit, he would not let loose his grip on his sword; no matter how hard he was thrown, he would not cry. Eventually Ryoma began developing muscles on parts of his body which had previously been covered with baby fat. By his third year of kenjutsu training, Ryoma had become one of the toughest and most skilled swordsmen at the dojo.
The Japanese island of Shikoku, meaning "Four Provinces," consisted of just that, with Tosa being the largest of the four. Tosa was a fan-shaped mountainous province of temperate climate, which comprised the entire southern portion of the smallest of the four main Japanese islands. Kochi Castletown was situated in the vicinity of Kochi Castle, along the southern border of the domain, just inland from the Pacific.
Tosa was one of some 260 feudal domains, or han, into which Japan was divided. Each han was overseen by samurai, and ruled by a feudal lord, or daimyo. The Shogun, head of the Tokugawa family, was the mightiest daimyo of all. He dominated the Japanese nation from his military government at Edo, which was known throughout the land as the Tokugawa Bakufu.
In the spring of 1853, Ryoma left his native Kochi for Edo. The Shogun's distant capital was the home of the top fencing academies in Japan, and it was at Edo that the young samurai would further his study in the way of the sword. Beside his long and short swords which he wore thrust through his sash at his left hip, Ryoma carried with him his father's written words of admonition: "Do not forget for an instant that loyalty and filial piety are the most important elements of your training. Do not become attached to material things and squander gold and silver for them. Do not give yourself up to sensuality, forget the importance of your country, or allow your heart to become corrupted."
Two weeks after leaving home, Ryoma reached the last stage of the Tokaido Road. The Tokaido was the main thoroughfare which stretched some 300 leagues along the east coast of the main Japanese island of Honshu, between the Imperial capital of Kyoto and the Shogun's capital of Edo. From here he got his first sight of the sprawling city, and the towering white keeps of Edo Castle, the stronghold of the Tokugawa Bakufu.
Ryoma was overwhelmed by the sheer energy of the city: the crowds, the two-storied merchants' shops of black tile roofs lining the streets, the outdoor tea shops, numerous food stalls, restaurants and taverns. Here a daimyo was being carried through the streets in a luxurious palanquin of lacquered wood and split bamboo; there a young woman emerged from a shop, elegantly dressed in brightly colored silk; a Buddhist priest, in a black clerical robe and conical basket hat, stood nearby begging for alms; a dignified samurai, perhaps a government official, walked down the street, his swords thrust through his sash, his topknot neatly tied and folded over his cleanly shaven pate. Here was a well-to-do merchant, swordless of course; but dressed in a fine silken kimono. A peddler pulled a two-wheeled cart loaded with myriad household items. Wicker brooms, straw baskets, wooden ladles, and small bamboo pails stuck out from the top and all sides of the cart, which passed by a musical quartet of three gaily costumed men and one woman. One of them, an old man wearing a long pointed cap, sang passionately to the music of a flutist, a shamisen player and a pounder of wooden blocks.
Protocol compelled Ryoma to report directly to the official Tosa headquarters, located at the center of the city near Edo Castle. Each of the 266 feudal lords maintained official headquarters in Edo to house official representatives at the Shogun's capital. The size, scale and number of these headquarters differed according to the wealth and rank of the individual daimyo. The larger han, including Tosa, maintained more than one official headquarters, each large enough to house hundreds, and in some cases thousands, of samurai. The maintenance of han headquarters was required by the Law of Alternate Attendance, whereby all feudal lords were obligated to reside in the capital in alternate years. During their absence from Edo, the lords were required to leave their wives and heirs at their Edo residences as virtual hostages, a protective measure used by the central government against possible insurrection in the provinces.
Due to Ryoma's low social standing in the Tosa hierarchy, he was little concerned with official matters. Accordingly, after reporting his arrival at Tosa headquarters, he went directly to the academy of the celebrated sword master Chiba Sadakichi, one of the top fencing schools in Edo.
Ryoma practiced fencing daily during his first several weeks in Edo. He soon earned a reputation as a promising young swordsman, and developed a close friendship with the sword master's son, Chiba Jutaro. Then an event occurred one sweltering afternoon in the sixth month of the sixth year of the Era of Long Happiness which was to change not only the life of Sakamoto Ryoma, but the fate of the entire Japanese nation.
On June 3, 1853, Commodore Matthew Perry of the United States Navy led a flotilla of four "Black Ships" into Sagami Bay, to the Port of Uraga, just south of Edo, sparking the greatest uproar in the two and a half centuries of Tokugawa rule. Perry carried a letter addressed to the Shogun from President Millard Fillmore, demanding a treaty between the United States and Japan. When a Bakufu official informed the Americans aboard ship that Japanese law required all foreign affairs to be handled at the port city of Nagasaki in Kyushu, he was told in no uncertain terms that the President of the United States had ordered Perry to deliver his message directly to the Shogun in Edo. Perry had nothing more to say, but rather anchored his four heavily armed warships just off the coast, as if to prepare for an attack on the Japanese capital.
The Bakufu was perplexed. There had been several incidents in the past of foreign ships appearing off the Japanese coast, but this was the first time that a fleet of warships had threatened Edo. The Japanese capital, in fact, had never seen such magnificent ships. Two were steamers, which could move about freely, independent of sails or the winds. All four ships were mounted with great guns along both sides, totaling eighty in all-enough firepower to devastate the wooden city.
Until now, the Bakufu had been more concerned with preserving its rule than competing technologically with the rest of the world. As long as the government could keep the foreigners out, the rest of the nation would have to abide by the laws it dictated. To prevent would-be insurgents from secretly traveling overseas, the Bakufu had for centuries banned the building of large ships. As a result, Japan had become so technologically backward that it was now unable to defend itself from the Western powers that threatened to dominate Asia.
Perry's demands for a treaty presented the Bakufu with the greatest dilemma in its history. Acquiescence, it reasoned, would lead to subjugation by the West; rejection, it worried, might lead to a war which it could not hope to win. But the central government also realized that samurai throughout Japan would demand a war against the "evil barbarians who dared to invade the sacred land." Reports of the Opium War in China during the previous decade, by which the British now dominated the great Middle Kingdom, served as an omen of dire consequence to the Japanese.
The Shogun's Senior Council, to be sure, was scared out of its wits. From now on, it would gradually adopt an official stance of Opening the Country, while samurai throughout Japan would scream for Expelling the Barbarians. Ryoma, for his part, displayed his own contempt for the foreign intruders in a letter to his father. "It looks like we 're going to have a war soon," he wrote. “If so, I'll be cutting off some foreign heads before returning to Tosa."
Before Ryoma could fulfill his vow, however, the Americans suddenly raised anchor and departed, just six days after their first appearance off the Edo coast, but not before Perry had received the Bakufu's promise to answer the demands for a treaty during the following year. A treaty between the United States and Japan was completed in March 1854, ending over two and a half centuries of Japanese isolation. Although the treaty made no provision for foreign trade, it entitled American ships to purchase food and other necessities from the Japanese, and assured them amicable treatment in case of shipwreck off the Japanese coast. Two Japanese ports were opened; one at Shimoda, just a short distance from Edo; the other at Hakodate, on the distant northern island of Ezo.
While marking a turning point in the history of Japan, the treaty also aroused in the heart of the eighteen-year-old Sakamoto Ryoma his first feeling of resentment toward the Bakufu, which had been humiliated by the Americans. Ryoma, like most samurai throughout Japan, resented the intrusion of the unwanted foreigners, and deplored the Shogun's government for having become too weak to keep the foreigners out. Until now, Ryoma's personal development had been focused solely on the forging of his draconic spirit through intense training in the way of the sword. Now, with the coming of the Black Ships, he was beginning to formulate his first political outlook on the world, albeit his was still one which needed a great deal of refinement.
* * *
Ryoma made great progress at the Chiba Dojo, receiving intermediate rank within a year. Rank in the Hokushin-Itto Style was divided into three levels:
basic, intermediate and senior. The attainment of senior rank was tantamount to mastering the art, thus qualifying a swordsman to establish a fencing dojo of his own. But Ryoma's official permission to remain in Edo expired
in the summer of 1854, when he returned home. At Kochi Castletown he could not keep his mind off the great American warships he had seen in the previous year. He fantasized that one day he might command his own Black
Ship. Then one day, in hope of finding a sympathetic ear, he paid a visit to Kawada Shoryo, an artist and scholar of Western studies who lived in the castletown.
Aside from his many drawings in Chinese ink-dragons were his specialty-Shoryo, whose name meant "Little Dragon," was a prolific writer. Among his works was An Account of an American Castaway, about a young Tosa fisherman, Nakahama Manjiro, who had been shipwrecked off an uninhabited Japanese island in 1841. The fourteen-year-old boy was rescued by an American whaling ship, befriended by the captain, and taken to the United States for an education. Upon Manjiro's return to Japan in 1852, he was ordered by the Lord of Tosa to report his American experiences to Shoryo, who wrote a fascinating account of Western technology, society and culture, which, since the coming of Perry in the previous year, had become an object of extreme interest not only to the local Tosa government, but to the Edo Bakufu as well.
When Ryoma first appeared at the front gate of Shoryo's house, the
sophisticated scholar showed no interest in the uneducated young swordsman. Ryoma was dressed sloppily in a pair of faded gray wide trousers, or hakama, and a wrinkled black jacket. Displayed in white on the front of the jacket was the Sakamoto family crest: a Chinese bellflower enclosed by overlapping squares which formed an eight-pointed star. Through his sash, at his left hip, hung his long and short swords. On his broad forehead, just above the left brow was an unsightly wart. His large tanned face was spotted with moles, and, as usual, his hair was unkempt. "My name is Sakamoto Ryoma. I've heard about your interest in Western culture," he said, in short, abrupt spurts, his right hand tucked into the breast of his kimono.
"What do you want?" Shoryo asked impatiently.
"I've just returned from Edo. I've seen the Black Ships with my own eyes."
"So what?"
"So..." Ryoma paused momentarily, before blurting, "I've come to ask what you think ought to be done about the barbarians."
"I'm just an artist. I have no opinion on the matter," Shoryo lied.
But Ryoma was persistent, and eventually convinced the scholar to invite him inside to discuss Western culture. Ryoma was a good listener, and Shoryo, once he began speaking, poured forth his knowledge of the West. He told of the leaps and bounds by which Western countries were progressing in the fields of science and industry, the practical use to which technology was being put, both militarily and industrially, and of the concept of the joint-stock company.
"As for all the recent talk of Expelling the Barbarians," Shoryo said, "we simply don't have the means by which to enforce it. You said you've seen the Black Ships. Well, those are only the beginning of what's to come in the near future. Narrow-minded men who nowadays are inclined to rant and rave about keeping the foreigners out are simply ignorant of the technological power of the West. But that doesn't mean that we should run blindly into a policy of Opening the Country either. Before opening the country-and that's what we must do if we expect to protect ourselves from foreign subjugation-we must first prepare ourselves militarily. To do so, we must import the advanced military methods and technologies of the West.
"Being an island nation, Japan is first going to have to develop a navy. But before we can do that, we must increase our knowledge of navigation. To do so, we will need to purchase foreign ships. The little junks we have now are like children's toys compared to the great warships of Europe and America. The Americans have built roads made of iron rails that span a distance much greater than the entire length of Japan. On these rails they run steam-powered locomotives to transport men and cargo."
'Locomotives?" Ryoma interrupted. "What's a locomotive?" "A locomotive is a self-propelled vehicle made of iron, which runs on steel rails and pulls other cars behind it. But what we need more than locomotives are steamships, with which we could transport passengers and cargo along the coast of Japan. In the process we could raise funds to buy more steamships, until we had developed a small navy. All the while we could be improving our navigation skills. But unless we get started very soon, it's going to be too late." Shoryo paused to take a deep breath. "This is the only way to save our nation from foreign subjugation," he grimly concluded. "We don't have the luxury of time to argue among ourselves whether we must open Japan or keep the foreigners out."
Ryoma left Shoryo's house fascinated by what he had heard, but in his heart still felt that Expelling the Barbarians was the only policy that a man of integrity could support. Yielding to the foreign demands would be cowardly, he thought, unbecoming of a samurai. But Ryoma realized that Shoryo was right: Japan simply did not have the military means by which to defend itself from foreign invasion.
* * *
It was pouring rain when Takechi Hanpeita returned to Tosa Han headquarters in Edo. His hakama was drenched, but a wide conical basket hat kept his face and upper body dry. At six feet tall, Hanpeita carried his tightly knit frame with the dignity of a highly polished swordsman, as he proceeded calmly through the iron-studded oaken double outer gate of Tosa headquarters.
"Takechi-sensei," called a voice from the guardhouse at the gate. Inside were several young men who had been waiting for Hanpeita to return. These lower-samurai of Tosa idolized the charismatic swordsman at whose fencing dojo in Kochi most of them had trained before coming to Edo.
"What's the matter?" Hanpeita asked, sensing something wrong.
"A samurai named Sakamoto Ryoma has just arrived today," one of the men said. "He's been assigned to your room, Sensei."
Hanpeita entered the guardhouse to get out of the pouring rain. "So, Ryoma has finally arrived," Hanpeita said, removing his basket hat. "I've been expecting him. His older brother wrote me that he'd be coming."
"But Sensei, Sakamoto has referred to you in the most insulting way. He's been calling you..." the man paused.
"Well, say it."
'"Fish chin.'" The man grimaced.
"We can't forgive the outrage," insisted another man angrily.
"Never mind," said Hanpeita, shrugging.
Takechi Hanpeita was a model of samurai temperance. He was known throughout Tosa as a skilled swordsman and accomplished Confucian scholar. He had been initiated in the Itto Style of fencing three years ago at the age of twenty-four, when he had established his own academy in Kochi Castletown. It wasn't long before this petty samurai had attracted some eighty followers from among his social peers, all of whom referred to him: with the honorable title of "sensei."
Since coming to Edo in the previous summer, Hanpeita had been practicing at one of the three greatest fencing academies in the capital. This was the dojo of the renowned sword master Momonoi Shunzo. Likewise, Ryoma, who had returned to Edo in the fall of 1855, continued his practice at the Chiba Dojo throughout the first half of 1857. One afternoon in late summer of that year Ryoma returned to his barrack room to find Hanpeita waiting for him. Despite the great contrast in their natures, the two had developed a close friendship over the past year. Hanpeita wore a light cotton robe; his hair was combed neatly, and tied into a topknot which was folded over his shaven pate. He was sitting on the floor in the formal position, back straight, powdering the blade of his sword. "A samurai must always be ready for battle," he told Ryoma. His pale face was expressionless, save his powerful dark eyes.
"Don't you ever relax?" Ryoma said, leaning back against the wall.
"Powder your sword," Hanpeita demanded, handing Ryoma a small box of powder.
"Later," Ryoma muttered. "I'm too tired now."
"Ryoma, we must prepare for war. Haven't you heard that the barbarians in Shimoda are pressuring the Bakufu to sign another treaty?"
During the previous summer, the American envoy, Townsend Harris, had set up the first United States Consulate in Japan in the port village of Shimoda to negotiate a commercial treaty. However, before the Bakufu could sign such a treaty, protocol demanded that it obtain sanction from the Imperial Court in Kyoto. The Imperial Court, however, had been excluded from the business of government for two and a half centuries. The founders of the Bakufu had designed measures to prevent contacts, both politically and socially, between the feudal lords and the court. Through the years, however, Bakufu supervision of the Imperial Court had waned. Meanwhile, the principal "outside lords" (descendants of those daimyo who became retainers of the first Tokugawa Shogun only after he had defeated his enemies some two and a half centuries before)-namely Tosa, Choshu and Satsuma-had formed matrimonial alliances with families at court. These alliances would prove important during the revolutionary years of the 1860s, when the Bakufu would begin to crumble.
With internal trouble weighing heavily upon the nation, the fencing academies in Edo developed into centers of anti-foreign, and consequently anti-Bakufu, sentiment. The men training at these schools resented the Bakufu its weakness in dealing with the foreigners. As the commercial treaty with Harris began to materialize, samurai throughout Japan assumed an increasingly hostile attitude toward the Bakufu, their moral support now focused on the Imperial Court at Kyoto.
Emperor Komei himself harbored blind hatred for things foreign. When the Bakufu petitioned for Imperial sanction for a commercial treaty with the Americans, they were flatly refused. Although the Emperor held no political power, his prestige of ancient times had not diminished. The first Tokugawa Shogun, in fact, had only obtained his rank after being conferred by the Emperor with the official title of "Commander in Chief of the Expeditionary Forces Against the Barbarians."
"Alright, Fish Chin," Ryoma said, making fun of Hanpeita's protruding chin, "I'll powder my sword." Ryoma drew his sword from its black lacquered sheath, and began applying the lubricating powder.
"This is no laughing matter, Ryoma," Hanpeita admonished. "We must
prepare for war."
In the autumn of 1857 Ryoma was appointed head of the Chiba Dojo. In the following January, five years after entering the dojo, he received the coveted senior rank in the Hokushin-Itto Style. He was still only twenty-two.
This was the fifth year of the Era of Peaceful Rule-1858 by Western reckoning-one of great difficulty for the Tokugawa Bakufu. The military government faced two critical problems: dealing with increased foreign demand to open the country to commercial trade, and deciding on an heir to the present Shogun. After signing the first treaty with the United States in 1854, Japan had been pressured into similar treaties with Great Britain, France, the Netherlands and Russia. None of these five nations, however, were satisfied with the initial treaties, which did not provide for trade with
Japan.
Concerning the problem of shogunal succession, the Bakufu was in desperate need of a new leader in these extremely critical times. The present Shogun, Tokugawa Iesada, was mentally retarded. One of the favorite pastimes of the Commander in Chief of the Expeditionary Forces Against the Barbarians was stewing potatoes with women in the inner-palace of Edo Castle. And since Shogun Iesada had no interest in the opposite sex, he was childless at the age of thirty-five, presenting the Bakufu with the difficult problem of deciding on an heir to his rule.
Within the Bakufu arose two opposing positions concerning succession. On one side were the 145 hereditary lords, direct retainers of the Shogun, whose ancestors had supported the first Tokugawa Shogun during the great wars at the turn of the seventeenth century. These lords, who occupied all the important governmental posts, were most concerned with maintaining the existing order of things to protect themselves. They argued that shogunal succession must be decided according to tradition, and thus be given to the child-Lord of Kii, a close relative of the Shogun. Opposing the hereditary lords was a small group of practical daimyo who argued that succession be given to the more able Lord Yoshinobu, the son of the Lord of Mito.
The clans of Mito, Kii and Owari-the elite Three Tokugawa Branch Houses-descended from the three youngest sons of the first Tokugawa Shogun. In the event that a Shogun failed to produce an heir, succession came from one of these elite houses. Mito, however, had been traditionally excluded from succession. The Lord of Mito, Tokugawa Nariaki, was nevertheless determined that his son should succeed the Shogun.
The Mito faction argued that although the Lord of Kii was indeed a close j relative of the Shogun, at age twelve he was simply too young to rule. After the death of the present Shogun, these lords hoped to modify the Bakufu i through the selection of an able heir. They would unify the nation through the formation of a political coalition within the Bakufu, which would consist of the lords of the greatest domains in Japan. The conservative hereditary lords, who advocated maintaining the two-and-a-half-century-old Tokugawa hegemony, bitterly opposed them.
The Lord of Mito was a staunch exclusionist, who supported the policy of Expelling the Barbarians. Opposing him was a powerful man by the name of li Naosuke, Lord of Hikone, the largest of the hereditary han. Lord Ii advocated a period of trade with the West in order to allow Japan to strengthen itself financially and technologically. He argued that this was the only way that the nation would be able to perfect its defenses and avoid subjugation.
Amid this turmoil, Edo's fencing schools continued to attract samurai from all over Japan. The pending problems of shogunal succession and the Western threat were the topics of the day, with anti-foreign seclusionism being passionately embraced by these young swordsmen. At the center stage of political discourse were three of Edo's top fencing schools: the Chiba Dojo (Sakamoto Ryoma, head), the Momonoi Dojo (Takechi Hanpeita, head) and the Saito Dojo (Katsura Kogoro, head). Ryoma took little interest in the complicated affairs of state, but rather continued to dedicate himself to kenjutsu. Having recently been officially initiated in the Hokushin-Itto Style, Ryoma now enjoyed a reputation as one of the leading young swordsmen in the capital.
One evening in late April 1858 Hanpeita was reading a book titled A History of Japan, and waiting for Ryoma to return to their barrack room. Upon Ryoma's return, Hanpeita closed the book, and placed it on his desk. Hanpeita's face was typically void of expression. "Ryoma," he said, "have you heard what's happened today?"
"No."
"You haven't heard about the biggest disaster of our time?"
"No."
"The Lord of Hikone, Ii Naosuke, has been named Bakufu regent."
"So?"
"Is that all you can say?" Hanpeita was annoyed at Ryoma's lack of concern for political affairs. "Ryoma, you'd better start educating yourself. As head of the Chiba Dojo, you have a special duty to be aware of what's going on in our nation. The Bakufu is too weak to oppose foreign demands. Lord Nariaki of Mito is one of the few men in Edo with the nerve to stand up to the Bakufu. He calls for absolute refusal of the foreign demands to open our nation."
'Hanpeita," Ryoma interrupted, "I've been thinking about all this talk of Expelling the Barbarians. How does anyone expect to be able to do that with just a bunch of talk? I've seen the Black Ships. Those guns could do a lot of damage. We'll need a lot more than just philosophy to stop them."
'That's true. But with the Bakufu giving in to the demands of the filthy barbarians, Lord Nariaki has decided to seek support from the Imperial Court at Kyoto, which has been completely cut off from governing for centuries." "The Imperial Court?" Ryoma repeated with a puzzled look.
"Yes, because the Imperial Court shares Lord Nariaki's views."
The Lord of Mito had become a natural leader of the samurai who were perfecting their skills in the traditional martial arts. Unfortunately, however, most of the proponents of exclusionism, though educated in Japanese history, literature and traditional Confucian philosophy, remained ignorant of the West, and consequently had no idea what they would be up against in case of war. The same was true of the court nobles, and even Emperor Komei himself.
"But the Bakufu has also requested Imperial support," Hanpeita continued.
"Why?"
Hanpeita explained that the Bakufu had recently panicked upon hearing i reports of continued Western advances into China. Edo was consequently persuaded by the United States to agree to a commercial treaty before Japan would meet a similar fate. "But," Hanpeita continued, "since it is required by law that the Bakufu secure Imperial sanction for foreign treaties, Edo has turned to Kyoto for support."
"Why does the Bakufu need Imperial sanction?" Ryoma asked.
"Because of the law requiring Imperial sanction. Without such sanction the Bakufu would have trouble getting support for treaties from the daimyo throughout Japan. "But," Hanpeita's eyes lit up, "this means that Kyoto is in the process of replacing Edo as the center of national politics."
The Mito faction now claimed that the Shogun was merely an Imperial agent, who at the beginning of the seventeenth century had been commissioned by the Emperor to protect Japan from foreign invasion. The Imperialists insisted that true political authority still belonged to the Emperor in Kyoto. They argued that since the Shogun was no longer able to keep the foreigners out, the Emperor and his court must be restored to power to save the nation. As a result, the national government was gradually developing into a twofold structure: while the Bakufu continued to rule at Edo, the ancient Imperial Court was undergoing a political renaissance at Kyoto. With this came the political education of young court nobles in Kyoto, who throughout the entire reign of the Tokugawa had been completely excluded from national affairs. Even the Emperor himself was a political novice. He harbored no anti-Bakufu designs, and his chronic xenophobia was due to a fear of things Western brought on by ignorance of the outside world. A look of disdain flashed in Hanpeita's eyes. "Word has it that His Imperial Majesty has been deeply grieved over the course of recent events."
Since its establishment, the Tokugawa Bakufu had justified its rule by claiming to ease and protect the Emperor, handling all governmental affairs for him. However, things had suddenly taken a drastic turn: the Imperialists now held the Shogun responsible for dishonoring and upsetting His Sacred Majesty, through failure to deal firmly with the foreigners.
"This is a crime that cannot be forgiven," Hanpeita said. He paused, took a long, thin wooden-stemmed pipe from his desk, filled its small brass bowl, with tobacco. Reaching into the nearby brazier with a pair of wooden sticks, he picked up a burning coal, lit the pipe and resumed speaking. "At first, some of the senior officials at court were persuaded by conniving Bakufu officials to issue Imperial sanction to open the country to foreign trade. But then, some of the younger nobles organized a protest meeting, and the sanction was recalled. The court instructed the Bakufu to continue being faithful to the existing Tokugawa institutions. It argued that violation of the sound laws handed down by the first Shogun would disturb the people and make it impossible to preserve lasting tranquillity." Hanpeita paused again to smoke his pipe. "Being forced into further treaties with the barbarians would be a disgrace to our national honor," Hanpeita continued bookishly. "And thanks to the wisdom of His Sacred Majesty, Edo's devious request for Imperial sanction has been refused. But," Hanpeita pounded his fist on the desk, "just today Lord Ii was appointed regent, the most powerful post in the Bakufu."
Hanpeita tapped the ashes out of his pipe into a short wooden ashtray. "And so," he said, his dark, penetrating eyes seething, "although the Bakufu would like to open the country, the Imperial Court has courageously called for absolute refusal to the demands of the barbarians."
Ryoma reached over the desk, and grabbed Hanpeita's wrist. "Men like you and I must stick together," he said, the sudden passion in his voice surprising his friend. "We must seize some of the barbarian warships, and drive them out by force."
"Be serious!" Hanpeita shouted, apparently irritated by Ryoma's simplicity. "You must start educating yourself."
Ryoma spent the following months training at the Chiba Dojo, where he was living most of the time. He hadn't returned to his room at Tosa headquarters for nearly a month, partly in order to avoid Hanpeita. While he admired his friend, Hanpeita had lately become a nuisance by taking it upon himself to educate Ryoma. Then, one evening in the middle of July Ryoma returned to his barrack room, exhausted after a particularly strenuous practice.
"Ryoma," Hanpeita said, "I want you to come with me to meet a couple of men from Choshu. It will be an opportunity to exchange ideas."
"If this is another one of your schemes to educate me, Hanpeita, forget it. I've heard about Regent Ii, the treaty and the shogunal succession."
"So, you've heard about Ii's blasphemy," Hanpeita said, surprised at Ryoma's apparent knowledge of current events.
"Blasphemy?" Ryoma repeated with a puzzled look. "Why do you call it blasphemy?"
Unlike the studious Hanpeita, Ryoma was not interested in politics. Having been told since childhood that he was intellectually inept, he had avoided study. After all, the "runny-nosed, bed-wetting crybaby" had been obliged to leave school when the headmaster informed his father that he was not suited for scholarship. It had been then that he discovered kenjutsu practice. This was an area in which he naturally excelled. It was through kenjutsu that he acquired unwavering self-confidence. The way of the sword, he determined, was the road he would continue to follow.
"Ryoma, you must be more aware of what is going on in the nation," Hanpeita urged. Then in a low voice he added, "The Bakufu is no longer to be trusted."
Regent Ii had recently authorized a commercial treaty with the Americans without obtaining Imperial sanction. His action was considered nothing short of lese majesty by the proponents of Imperial Reverence and Expelling the Barbarians, a new battle cry among radical samurai. Ii was compelled to act quickly when American Consul Townsend Harris threatened that if the Bakufu did not have the authority to sign a treaty without Imperial con sent, the United States would have no alternative but to stop negotiations with Edo, and deal with the ruler which could indeed authorize a treaty. In short, Harris seemed prepared to go to Kyoto to negotiate directly with the Imperial Court. The Bakufu panicked at the sudden ultimatum. If the United States went through with its threat, Edo would lose its authority, and every foreign country which sought a treaty with Japan would naturally follow the American example of dealing directly with the inept Imperial Court. This, reasoned the regent, would spell disaster for the entire nation.
"Then, less than one week after signing the commercial treaty which has laid our sacred nation bare to the wicked barbarians," Hanpeita continued in a seething tone, "and as if to add insult to injury, the Bakufu proclaimed the f child-Lord of Kii heir to the Shogun. The treacherous regent has not only double-crossed His Imperial Majesty, but he has destroyed Lord Yoshinobu's chances for succession."
Shortly after the twelve-year-old Lord of Kii was selected to succeed his cousin as commander in chief of the Tokugawa regime, the imbecilic Shogun Iesada conveniently died, and was enshrined among his ancestors. The young daimyo, meanwhile, became the fourteenth Shogun, Tokugawa Iemochi.
"Ryoma, I'm asking you to come with me this evening as a personal favor. The Choshu men are expecting to see Sakamoto Ryoma, the head of the Chiba Dojo. One of them is Katsura Kogoro, head of the Saito Dojo."
"Katsura Kogoro will be there?" Ryoma, who had heard of Katsura's great skill with a sword, was suddenly more interested. "Alright, Hanpeita. I'll go."
Two samurai walked through the low wooden front gate of a restaurant near Tosa headquarters. Takechi Hanpeita was immaculately dressed in a black kimono, hakama of royal blue cotton, and a gray jacket displaying the Takechi family crest. His hair was oiled and combed, and his topknot folded neatly over his shaven pate. In contrast, Ryoma was sloppily clad in a faded black kimono, and a jacket so worn that his family crest was barely visible, and as usual, his long hair was uncombed. Both men wore their long and short swords thrust through the sash at their left hip.
The proprietress of the restaurant escorted the two men to a private room on the second story, where two other samurai sat on the floor, drinking at a low wooden table. "Takechi-sensei, thank you for coming," one of them said. This was Katsura Kogoro, suave of speech and gentle of manner. He was dressed formally in a dark blue jacket and black hakama; his hair was tied neatly into a topknot. His intelligent face was pale, his features almost effeminate; but his grand demeanor and dark, piercing eyes betrayed a great strength of character. The adopted son of an upper-samurai, Katsura, age twenty-five, had come to Edo five years before to practice kenjutsu at the famed Saito Dojo. He was soon appointed head of the dojo, and with the coming of Perry began studying Western shipbuilding, artillery and infantry to prepare for war against the foreigners. His recent promotion to an official post in the Choshu government was due to his superior ability as both scholar and swordsman. "And this must be Sakamoto-san, whom I've heard so much about," Katsura said. Sitting next to Katsura was a sullen youth of just nineteen, his face badly pocked from the smallpox which had nearly killed him in his childhood. This was Takasugi Shinsaku, the future revolutionary commander of the Choshu Army. "Takechi-sensei, Sakamoto-sensei," Takasugi bowed to the two well-know Tosa swordsmen, "it's an honor to meet you." Takasugi's courtesy was pure protocol. Mere proficiency in the way of the sword was not sufficient to earn the true respect of such men as Katsura and Takasugi. Both were disciples of the celebrated revolutionary teacher Yoshida Shoin, from the great southwestern domain of Choshu, which, like Mito, held some extremely radical ideas concerning the Bakufu, the Imperial Court and the foreigners.
Ryoma and Hanpeita returned the formalities, then sat down at the table, placing their long swords at their right sides. The Choshu men had already been drinking before the Tosa men arrived, and they were anxious to discuss the issues which had come to possess their very souls. Katsura poured a round of drinks. "Sakamoto-san, what are your ideas concerning Imperial Reverence and Expelling the Barbarians?" he asked, feeling out the Tosa swordsman. By now the slogan had captured the heart and soul of samurai throughout Japan. Its mere utterance could heat the blood of almost every spirited man in the land. There were few men considered to be of any worth who were not willing to lay down their lives for the cause of Imperial Reverence and Expelling the Barbarians.
Takechi Hanpeita was gradually becoming the leader of the Tosa radicals; Katsura Kogoro and Takasugi Shinsaku were dedicated disciples of Yoshida Shoin, the leader of the Choshu radicals. These champions of things Japanese shared with the Confucian scholars of Mito a deep reverence for the Emperor of Japan. Ryoma, however, was different. His strange way of thinking had recently become an enigma to his comrades who trained in the way of the sword. Holding the rim of his sake cup against his mouth, Ryoma stared hard into Katsura's eyes.
"Revering His Imperial Majesty and expelling the wicked barbarians from the sacred soil of Japan is the only way to save our nation," Hanpeita answered for his friend, as Ryoma silently drained his cup.
"Takechi-sensei," Katsura said, "I'm sure we share the same ideas and reelings in our mutual dedication to the cause." Then refilling Ryoma's cup, Katsura repeated his question.
"Well," Ryoma said nonchalantly, replacing his cup on the table, "Imperial Reverence and Expelling the Barbarians is a good cause. But what are you going to do with it?"
"You don't seem to understand," said Takasugi. "The Son of Heaven is the only rightful ruler of Japan. His ancestors ruled from the dawn of the Japanese nation, until the House of Fujiwara gained control of the political power one thousand years ago," Takasugi explained bookishly. "The Fujiwara ruled on the Emperor's behalf for the next five hundred years, until the formation of the first Bakufu. After that the Emperor remained politically powerless in Kyoto, while the military regimes of four successive families ruled the empire. To assure that the Emperor would remain powerless, the first Tokugawa Shogun, the founder of the present Bakufu, drastically decreased the allowance granted to the Emperor by his predecessors, and made laws prohibiting the Emperor from leaving Kyoto, forbidding the feudal lords from visiting the Imperial capital for personal reasons, and declaring that the Emperor dedicate himself to scholarship and poetry. In order to see that his laws were obeyed, the Shogun sent one of his ministers to Kyoto as his official representative to oversee the Imperial Court."
With the newfound peace under Tokugawa rule, came an unprecedented flourishing of scholarship among the samurai, including the study of national politics. To ensure that the samurai would learn how to serve their feudal lords and govern the commoners, the Bakufu and the individual lords encouraged the study of Confucianism. A school of thought eventually developed which professed that the true ruler whom all Japanese must serve was the Son of Heaven, in the Imperial capital at Kyoto. And ironically, the group most responsible for establishing this school of thought-the very foundation fox Imperial Reverence and Expelling the Barbarians-was Mito, one of the elite Three Tokugawa Branch Houses.
Ryoma, who rarely read books, had trouble grasping what Takasugi had told him, but nevertheless declared in perfect calm, "Until we can devise a way to combat the cannon that are mounted on the foreign warships, I'm afraid that we aren't going to be able to keep the barbarians out."
"How do you propose fighting them?" Takasugi asked.
"By developing a fleet of warships of our own."
"I agree entirely," Katsura said. "But first things first. Before we can fight the barbarians, we are going to have to get rid of the poisonous elements in Japan." Lowering his voice, the Choshu radical added, "Ii and his lackeys must be dealt with." Katsura shared the outrage of samurai all over Japan toward the regent's recent completion of a commercial treaty without Imperial sanction. "If things are allowed to remain as they are in the Bakufu, the barbarians will subjugate Japan, as they have China."
"Let's make a pledge here tonight," Ryoma pounded his fist on the table, "that we never allow that to happen."
"Let's drink to that!" Katsura raised his cup.
"Down with the barbarians," Takasugi roared.
"To His Sacred Majesty," Hanpeita said, and the four men drank deeply.
An Awakening
The August heat was sweltering, and nearly two years had passed since the Dragon's return to Edo. Samurai throughout the capital and indeed Japan were enraged over the drastic measures that Regent Ii Naosuke had enforced during his first four months in power. The animosity mounting between the supporters of opening the country to free trade, and those who vowed to expel the barbarians had reached a point of no return.
In the fall of 1858 Ryoma's official permission to study in Edo had once again expired, and he was recalled to his native Kochi. Traveling on foot from Edo along the Tokaido Road, he reached Kyoto one week later. Under a crisp, blue October sky, Ryoma crossed the Sanjo Bridge, one of several arched wooden bridges spanning the Kamogawa which flowed southward through the eastern portion of the ancient city from the mountains to the north. Parallel to the Kamogawa, just a stone's throw to the west, was the Takasegawa, a canal and important trade route between Kyoto and the neighboring town of Fushimi to the south. The Takasegawa was lined with houses of local merchants and stately residences of feudal lords. Among these was the Kyoto headquarters of Tosa Han, Ryoma's immediate destination. Due to the political uproar in Kyoto caused by xenophobic samurai and court nobles who opposed Regent Ii's decision to open Japan to foreign trade, the Bakufu had recently made it mandatory for all samurai traveling through the city to report to the headquarters of their respective han.
The turbulence was sparked by the regent's punishment of the three great feudal lords who had opposed the sealing of the commercial treaty with the Americans without Imperial sanction. In June, five days after the treaty had been signed, the Lords of Mito and Owari, two of the Three Tokugawa Branch Houses, entered Edo Castle uninvited to rebuke the Bakufu's decision to sign the treaty, and to express their disapproval of the choice of the child-Lord of Kii as heir to the Shogun. They argued that the Imperial Court supported the candidacy of Lord Yoshinobu, the seventh son of the Lord of Mito. They maintained that although the commercial treaty had indeed been sealed without Imperial sanction, the court might be appeased if Yoshinobu were appointed shogunal heir.
Ignoring these pleas, the Bakufu officially announced on the following day that the Lord of Kii would succeed Shogun Iesada. In order to strengthen his absolute rule over the military government, the regent ordered the punishment of the Lords of Mito and Owari, as well as that of the Lord of Fukui, another high-ranking daimyo who had also expressed his displeasure with Bakufu policy. These three daimyo were forced to retire, and placed under house confinement, while Lord Yoshinobu was banned from entering Edo Castle. As Mito, Owari and Fukui were among the Tokugawa Bakufu's most important retainers, the regent's punitive measures not only shocked the entire nation, they also aroused the outrage of the samurai of these three han.
In August, the regent ordered the wholesale arrest of anti-foreign Imperialist samurai who had come to Kyoto to urge the court to issue an edict for the regent's abdication, the revocation of the punishments handed out to Mito, Owari and Fukui, and reconsideration of shogunal succession. As a result of this insurgency, an Imperial proclamation was secretly delivered to Mito rebuking the commercial treaty and the punishment of the three lords, and ordering the Lord of Mito to hold counsel with other feudal lords to find the most suitable way to assure national peace and avoid derision from foreign countries.
Outraged over what he considered treason by Mito, the regent took drastic measures. The "Great Purge of Ii Naosuke" began with the arrest of over one hundred supporters of Imperial Reverence and Expelling the Barbarians, including court nobles, Bakufu officials, feudal lords and samurai. Unprecedented in scope and severity, the punishment was harshest on those the regent mistakenly assumed had initiated the secret Imperial proclamation: the Lord of Mito and his retainers. The retired Mito daimyo was placed under house arrest; his son, who had recently succeeded him, was confined to his residence and prohibited from performing his official duties; another son, Lord Yoshinobu, was forced to retire from political life and placed under house confinement; four of the eight men arrested during the purge who would eventually die in prison were Mito samurai.
* * *
As the sun set over the ancient Imperial capital, Ryoma could see the towering five-storied pagoda of Toji Temple-black against a brilliant orange sky-two leagues southwest from where he stood on the western bank of the Kamogawa. He intended to visit a childhood friend, Hirai Kao, but had been warned that the Sanjo house, where she was staying, was under the surveillance of Bakufu spies. Kao was the younger sister of Hirai Shujiro, a mutual friend of Ryoma's and Hanpeita's from Kochi Castletown. Unlike most upper-samurai, Shujiro and Kao were devout proponents of Imperial Reverence and Expelling the Barbarians, and had many friends among the lower-samurai in Kochi. A younger sister of the Lord of Tosa had recently married a prince of the Sanjo, one of the most powerful families at court and avid supporters of Imperial Reverence and Expelling the Barbarians. Kao, the daughter of a well-connected upper-samurai of Tosa, had been appointed maid-in-waiting to the Tosa princess.
Ryoma walked slowly northward along the river until night came. He was anxious to hear from Kao of the drastic measures the regent had taken with the radicals at court, but perplexed as to how he could get into the house of a court noble without being noticed.
As Ryoma silently approached the Sanjo house, just east of the Imperial Palace, he cursed the revealing light of the full moon, and hid himself in the bushes. From here he could see the house, and the second-story window which he had been told belonged to the room in which Kao slept. Suddenly there was the sound of someone moving nearby, and Ryoma released the latch to the sheath of his sword. As the noise came gradually closer, he drew the blade. Whoever it was now seemed to be less than three paces away, but still Ryoma could not make out the figure. Sweat ran down his forehead and both sides of his face, but he remained perfectly still. Then moonlight glistened from two sparkling eyes, and Ryoma had to repress his laughter.
"A cat," he muttered to himself, then stood up quietly and scaled a long white earthen fence which surrounded the Sanjo house. Just below the window of Kao's room were black-tiled eaves, which Ryoma reached by climbing a big willow tree beside the house. He stepped onto the eaves, slid open the window, and entered the house. "Kao," he whispered. "It's me, Sakamoto Ryoma."
"Ryoma?" Kao recognized his face in the moonlight shining through her chamber window.
"I need to talk to you."
"How did you get in here?"
"I snuck in."
"You must leave before someone sees you," the girl protested. "Go to Chifuku Temple tonight. It's at the top of Yoshida Hill." Kao wrote a short note of introduction to the priest of this Zen temple, handed it to Ryoma. "I'll meet you there tomorrow morning. I'm so glad to see you, Ryoma. I have many things to tell you. But one thing I must warn you of first: under no circumstances are you to tell anyone of our meeting."
Ryoma left the house, and silently stole through the surrounding neighborhood. After reaching the Sanjo Bridge, he walked eastward into the thickly wooded hills above the city. He spent the night at the Zen temple, in a simple one-room cottage, located in a wooded area just behind the main hall. When he awoke early next morning he was escorted by a monk to a small house on the temple grounds. The house stood in front of a pond surrounded by an immaculately kept garden. Lush bamboo grass grew beneath and around small pines. Plum, cherry and peach trees stood gray and bare with the coming of winter. Leafy camphor trees shaded the pond; camellia trees blossomed red, white and pink. Rocks of various shapes and sizes were neatly arranged along the water's edge, and a weathered wooden boat lay at the mossy shore.
Ryoma plucked a blade of bamboo grass near the entrance of the house, put it in his mouth, removed his sandals and entered. Inside the house Kao sat in the formal position on an immaculate tatami floor, greeting Ryoma with a bow, hands extended in front of her. She wore a kimono of pea-green silk, a small lacquered comb in her hair, and around her midriff a cream-colored sash.
Ryoma removed both swords from his hip and sat down cross-legged facing Kao, the blade of bamboo grass protruding from his mouth. Three of the walls were of a dark yellow earthen clay. Finely polished cedar logs were built into the threshold of the sliding screen doors. The ceiling was of woven cedar bark; a single log was built into an alcove to the right of the girl.
A white camellia had been placed in a flower vase of light green ceramic, which was arranged at the center of the otherwise bare alcove. On the plain yellow wall behind the vase hung a scroll of calligraphy in black Chinese ink. The sliding door behind Kao was open wide, and Ryoma had a wonderful view of the garden and the dark green pond in the background.
Between Kao and Ryoma was a hearth, built into the floor. On the hearth was a steaming iron kettle, and next to this, on the bare tatami, a teacup of black porcelain. Within reach were other utensils of the tea ceremony: a small black lacquered container of powdered green tea, a slender bamboo spoon for the powder, and a bamboo whisk to stir the bitter, frothy tea. A small tray of sweet bean cakes had been placed in front of Ryoma. He removed the chewed blade of grass from his mouth, placed it on the tray, and took one of the cakes in his hand. As Kao poured hot water into the cup and made tea, Ryoma inserted the entire cake into his mouth, wiped his hand on the front of his jacket, then smiled. "Very good," he said, and, without ceremony, slurped some tea.
"You're the same as ever, Ryoma." Kao seemed more amused than disturbed by Ryoma's lack of manners. "You're lucky you weren't arrested last night. Bakufu spies have been watching the Sanjo house for weeks. We can't have any visitors. Regent Ii is convinced that anyone who has anything to do with the Sanjo is in cahoots with us against the Bakufu."
"What are you doing there?" Ryoma asked.
"I'm serving Lady Tomo, who recently married the son of the former Lord Keeper of the Imperial Seal."
As Kao explained, although she was officially in Kyoto as maid-in-waiting to the sister of the Lord of Tosa, she was secretly serving the radical Sanjo family of court nobles. She was aiding "Imperial Loyalists," as the Imperialist samurai now called themselves, who had come to Kyoto to urge the court to act against Ii's sealing of the commercial treaty without Imperial sanction.
"How long will you stay in Kyoto?" Ryoma asked.
"As long as I can be of use to the Imperial cause. I am dedicated to my Lady, the Sanjo family and the overthrow of the Bakufu for the sake of the Japanese nation," Kao whispered.
"The overthrow of the Bakufu?" Ryoma exclaimed.
Ryoma had reason to be startled. The dominance of the Bakufu over the entire nation was beyond question. Even the radicals of Mito did not harbor the slightest ambitions of toppling the Bakufu. Rather, they despised the Bakufu's regent, whom the Lord of Mito and his followers labeled "a traitor disgracing the divine Emperor and the sacred nation." But the stage of history had already been set. The coup de theatre which would transform the conglomerate of 260 feudal clans into a single, unified nation was under way; and although Sakamoto Ryoma was yet unaware, his was to be a leading role in the great drama ahead, which would be the revolution to overthrow the Tokugawa Bakufu.
Shortly after his return to Kochi, Ryoma received a letter from a Mito samurai by the name of Sumiya Toranosuke, whom he had never met. Sumiya was traveling through western Japan on a campaign to organize opposition against the "dictator" Ii Naosuke. He had heard of the well-known Tosa swordsman, Sakamoto Ryoma, from men at the Chiba Dojo in Edo. In his letter, Sumiya wrote that he would like to meet Ryoma, and that he would be waiting for him at the Tachikawa Border Station, which separated Tosa from the neighboring province of Iyo. Pleased by his recent notoriety, Ryoma immediately set out on the long trek through the mountains to Tachikawa, arriving on the following morning.
Sumiya was dressed all in black. His full head of hair was tied in a topknot, and his sideburns extended down to his earlobes. He was unshaven, but his refined features, clear eyes and manner of speech made it apparent that he was a man of culture.
"Sakamoto-san, I appreciate your coming," the radical Loyalist from Mito greeted the Tosa swordsman, then without hesitation got straight to the point. "What do you think about the blasphemy in the national government?"
"I'm not exactly sure what you mean," Ryoma said.
An educated man would surely have realized that Sumiya was referring to Ii's recent purge of his political enemies who had opposed the sealing of the commercial treaty without Imperial sanction. Ignoring Ryoma's remark, Sumiya continued in a bookish manner. "Men of High Purpose are now concentrating their collective energies to organize enough support to restructure the present regime in Edo, and in so doing avenge not only the unjust punishments inflicted upon our virtuous Lords Nariaki and Yoshinobu, but also the immoral irreverence Ii has displayed toward court nobles in Kyoto, and even toward the Son of Heaven Himself."
"I see," Ryoma said, scratching the back of his neck. Although he was genuinely concerned with Mito's plight, the content of Sumiya's words was beyond his present grasp. "To tell you the truth, I'm really not very familiar with what is happening in the Edo government or in the Imperial Court," he admitted.
As the swordsman's ignorance was apparent, Sumiya abandoned his discourse to get to more immediate concerns. "I'd like to ask for your help in gaining entrance into Tosa for a few days so that I can talk with some of your people about Ii's atrocities."
Notwithstanding Ryoma's sympathy for this champion of Imperial Reverence and Expelling the Barbarians, the former head of the Chiba Dojo was a mere lower-samurai; despite his efforts, he was unable to arrange permission for Sumiya to enter Tosa.
The Mito man was grieved. Not only had he wasted precious time waiting at the border station for Ryoma's response, but he was also disappointed at the ignorance of the reputable swordsman for whom he had harbored such high expectations.
The meeting, however, was by no means a wasted endeavor. In fact, Sakamoto Ryoma's short encounter with the Mito Loyalist at the Tachikawa Border Station that chilly afternoon in November 1858 would one day have a great effect on the history of Japan. Bothered and embarrassed at his lack of knowledge concerning national affairs, Ryoma decided to educate himself.
On the next day Ryoma visited the home of Takechi Hanpeita, the master of the Zuizan Dojo, recently returned from Edo. In addition to fencing, Zuizan (Hanpeita had recently taken this pseudonym) taught Japanese and Chinese history and philosophy, with an emphasis on Confucianism. This ancient Chinese doctrine, which taught a code of morals based on filial piety and submission to authority, was, in strictly ethical terms, the most prolific source of the code of the samurai.
"Hanpeita, I need your advice," Ryoma said, accepting a cupful of sake from Hanpeita's wife, Tomiko.
"About what?"
"Will you recommend some books that will give me a general understanding of the political situation in Japan?" "Start by reading history," Hanpeita said.
"History? To understand current problems?"
"Yes. History teaches knowledge through example," declared the Confucian scholar. "History is the foundation of scholarship." Hanpeita stood up and walked over to a desk on the other side of the room. "Here," he said, "read these." He handed two handwritten volumes to Ryoma. One was titled A History of Japan, a celebrated Imperialist work popular among the supporters of Imperial Reverence and Expelling the Barbarians. The other was a Chinese history book.
Ryoma's scholastic endeavors during this period were by no means limited to these two studies of Oriental history. Shortly after reading them he visited 1 Kawada Shoryo, to borrow a copy of An Account of an American Castaway. . The book fascinated Ryoma. It told of a democratic system of government, whereby people elected their leaders. "The people of the nation vote to elect a president every four years." Ryoma repeated this sentence several times to understand the meaning. "There is an official document called the 'Bill of: Rights' which guarantees fundamental rights and privileges to the people. The Bill of Rights is a part of the Constitution, upon which all of the laws are based." The concept which confused Ryoma most was that of a congress, elected by the people, and which made the laws. "This is apolitical system1 which has been created to protect the 'civil rights' of the people." Ryoma read this sentence over and over again, because he could not understand the concept of "civil rights."
On the next day Ryoma visited Shoryo again. "Your book is fascinating," he said. "The Americans have some incredible ideas. To think that the people'; choose their Shogun."
"Not a Shogun," Shoryo laughed. "A president."
"What's a president?"
"The president of the United States is the leader of the people, who is chosen by the people every four years to represent them."
"Do you mean that even the peasants can choose their leader?" Ryoma was amazed.
"Ryoma," Shoryo spoke deliberately, "there are no peasants in the United States. But a farmer can become the president. Anyone can, regardless of lineage."
"That's fantastic!" Ryoma blurted, slapping his thigh. "But what are civil rights?"
"Civil rights are the personal liberties guaranteed to each individual citizen by the Constitution of the United States of America" "What's the Constitution!" Ryoma asked.
"The Constitution is the document which states the principles and laws of the United States that determine the powers and duties of the government, and which guarantees civil rights to the people."
During the following months Ryoma often visited Kawada Shoryo to learn the details of American government and democracy. The Western scholar also told Ryoma of everything he himself had learned about the joint-stock company and the booming industrialism of Europe and America, while they discussed a mutual dream of one day acquiring a Western-style steamer to operate their own shipping company.
In the Wake of the Storm
By spring of the sixth year of the Era of Peaceful Rule, 1859, Takechi Hanpeita had become the undisputed leader of the self-styled Men of High Purpose who lived in and around Kochi Castletown. Most of these men were of lower-samurai stock, some were peasants, others the sons of village headmen from the surrounding countryside. They talked among themselves of the dire necessity of fortifying the nation to protect it from the Western onslaught. They cursed Regent Ii Naosuke for sullying the sacred nation with foreign treaties. They pledged their alliance to Imperial Reverence and Expelling the Barbarians, vowing to die before they would allow the foreigners free rein in Japan.
Master Zuizan, age twenty-nine, was the champion in Tosa of the xenophobic Imperial cause, and Sakamoto Ryoma, twenty-three, was his right-hand man. The two, however, were an unlikely team. The reserved sword master was a rigid moralist who shunned everything Western, while the Dragon harbored preposterous dreams of one day commanding a Western-style warship.
The bright sun illuminated the crystal-blue sky above the castletown on the fifth day of March. It was the morning after the heads of upper-samurai households had been invited by the Lord of Tosa to drink sake at his castle, an honor from which Ryoma, Hanpeita and the other lower-samurai were excluded.
"Ryoma," Nakaoka Shintaro hollered as he stormed into the Sakamoto house amid a gathering of several young samurai. Shintaro was the first son of a powerful village headman from the mountainous district of Aki, whose family had long ago been awarded the privilege of having a surname and bearing the two swords of the samurai. One of Hanpeita's leading disciples, Shintaro began his formal education in his early childhood under a Buddhist priest, and afterwards studied under a doctor of Chinese medicine, at whose academy he became a teacher at just fourteen. Later Shintaro moved to the castletown, where he entered Hanpeita's fencing dojo, and now, at the age of twenty, studied literature, philosophy and fencing under Master Zuizan. "Zuizan-sensei has sent me here," Shintaro said, his fists clenched in anger, his eyes flashing. "Ikeda Toranoshin's younger brother, Chujiro, was murdered last night by an upper-samurai. Zuizan-sensei wants you to come to Toranoshin's house immediately."
Ikeda Toranoshin, also a lower-samurai, was Ryoma's junior at the Hineno Dojo in Kochi. "Where's Tora?" Ryoma asked, as he stood up and grabbed his two swords.
"He's held up in his house with Zuizan-sensei and about twenty others," Shintaro said, then relayed the events of the previous night as he had heard them.
The spring air was sullen in the neighborhood around Kochi Castle. It was the final night of the annual Peach Blossom Festival, when the heads of the upper-samurai households were invited by the Lord of Tosa to drink sake at his castle. The hour was growing late, and Yamada Koei, an upper-samurai with a reputation as a bad drunk, had just left the castle with his tea instructor. As they were about to pass the main gate of Eifuku Temple, just west of the castle, Yamada collided with a man who had been walking in the opposite direction. This was Chujiro, the younger brother of Ikeda Toranoshin. "Impertinence!" roared Yamada, grabbing Chujiro's sleeve. Although Chujiro tried to avoid trouble, the drunken man was adamant. "A lower-samurai," he thundered, identifying Chujiro's social rank by the clothes he wore. "Apologize immediately, or die!" he raged, ignoring the urging of his tea instructor to let the matter alone.
As Yamada continued his drunken tirade, a young boy who was an acquaintance of Chujiro happened by. Shrouded under the cover of the quarter-moon darkness, the frightened boy hid in the nearby bushes, where he witnessed the ensuing horror.
Chujiro refused to apologize, and Yamada became enraged at what he considered an insult to his social superiority. "Your name," he demanded, but Chujiro, overcome by resentment and fear, remained silent. Yamada drew his sword in a flash of deadly blue, and a split second later blood sprayed like a fountain from Chujiro's chest.
The young witness to the murder ran to the nearby house of Chujiro's older brother, who upon hearing what had happened, raced with the boy to the scene of the murder. Here Toranoshin found his brother's body lying in a pool of blood, and at a distance of about fifty paces from the temple gate, spotted Yamada washing his bloodied hands in a stream. Confirming with the boy that this was indeed his brother's murderer, Toranoshin drew his long sword, quietly crept through the bushes, and was upon his unsuspecting victim in a matter of seconds.
"I avenge my brother's murder," Toranoshin screamed, as his sword flashed into a crimson spray, and Yamada's head dropped to the ground. Not yet satisfied with his revenge, Toranoshin now went after the petrified tea instructor. "I revenge my brother's murder," he repeated, before thrusting his sword, still wet with Yamada's blood, into the heart of the genteel artist.
The living room of Toranoshin's house was filled with lower-samurai when Ryoma and the others arrived. Some wore kenjutsu training uniforms, others armor. While some of them were busy lubricating the blades of their swords, others polished spears, and all were heatedly discussing the impending battle with the upper-samurai who demanded that Toranoshin be handed over to the authorities.
"I say we attack right away," one man said. "If they think we're going to turn over Toranoshin, they're crazy," hollered another. "They'll have to kill all of us first."
'Calm down!" demanded a stern voice at the center of the room. "Ryoma, I'm glad you've come." This was Master Zuizan, recently appointed by the Tosa government as inspector of all swordsmen in the domain.
"Where's Tora?" Ryoma asked.
"He's back there." Hanpeita gestured with his head toward the rear of house. "Turning him over to the authorities would be a crime which I could not easily condone," Hanpeita said calmly, stroking his long chin. "Seppuku would be much more honorable."
"What?" Ryoma shouted. "That's crazy! You want him to commit seppuku for avenging the cold-blooded murder of his brother! He's a hero, not a criminal."
"Toranoshin acted with complete honor," said a younger man who was sitting away from the others. This was Ike Kurata, who had grown up in the same neighborhood as Ryoma. "Ryoma," Kurata seethed, "first they kill Chujiro, then they have the gall to demand that Toranoshin die. I say, down with the upper-samurai and this rotten han."
For the past two and a half centuries the lower-samurai of Tosa Han had been suppressed by the upper-samurai. The lower-samurai had originally been the retainers of the House of Chosokabe, the former ruler of Tosa. When the first Tokugawa Shogun defeated his enemies at the decisive Battle of Sekigahara at the turn of the seventeenth century, he confiscated the lands of the Chosokabe, who had sided against him, and awarded them to a minor feudal lord, the head of the House of Yamanouchi, who, although not a direct Tokugawa retainer, had not fought against the Shogun. When Yamanouchi occupied Tosa, he brought with him his own vassals, who became the upper-samurai of Tosa Han, direct Yamanouchi retainers. The vassals of the banished Chosokabe either fled to other domains where they became peasants, or remained in their native land as second-class samurai. Dress codes were established so that the two classes could be easily distinguished. The lower-samurai were forbidden to wear wooden clogs, a privilege which was reserved for direct Yamanouchi retainers. Nor were the lower-samurai allowed on certain occasions to wear silk, and no matter how hot the weather, it was against the law for any but upper-samurai to carry a parasol to screen the sunlight when in close vicinity to the castle.
"This is war," insisted another lower-samurai. "Let's attack now."
"We'll divide Tosa in half, and avenge the dishonor done our ancient lord," bellowed another.
"Quiet!" Ryoma demanded. "Let's get some order into this mess. Now first of all, everyone calm down."
Hanpeita broke the short silence that followed. "Toranoshin is a brave and honorable man. And in order to avoid war.." Hanpeita was suddenly interrupted by a scream from the rear of the house. Drawing his sword, Ryoma, followed by Kurata and Shintaro, raced through the long wooden corridor and into a small room. At the center of the tatami floor kneeled Toranoshin, sprawled forward. In his right hand he clenched a short sword drenched in blood, which he had plunged into his belly up to the hilt. His left arm was extended in front of him, his fingers contorted in agony.
"Tora!" Ryoma screamed, then kneeled down and took his friend in his arms.
"Kill me!" Toranoshin begged deliriously, blood trickling from his mouth. As the dying man entered a state of shock, his hands began twitching furiously, but his bulging eyes focused on Ryoma.
Hanpeita and the others rushed to the room. "Toranoshin, you don't deserve this," one of them screamed. Indeed, had this been any of the other 260 Japanese fiefdoms, Toranoshin may well have been rewarded for his valor and fraternal loyalty, and certainly he would not have been branded a criminal. But things in Tosa were cut and dry: it was a crime, under any circumstances, for a lower-samurai to strike a direct retainer of the House of Yamanouchi.
"Tosa Han is rotten," Ryoma muttered, still holding Toranoshin in his arms. Kurata, now kneeling on the floor next to Ryoma, looked up at the others and screamed, "Call for a doctor! We need a doctor to save his life!"
"Silence!" Hanpeita ordered. "Toranoshin, you will not have died in vain. You are a brave warrior," he solemnly declared. "Kurata, he's suffered enough. Perform the duties of a second."
Tears of rage filled Kurata's eyes. "Toranoshin, I swear that your brave death will be avenged. We'll tear this rotten han apart."
"Kura, show the compassion of a warrior!" Ryoma screamed, holding Toranoshin in an upright position. "He's suffered enough. Perform the duties of a second right away."
"Ikeda Toranoshin!" cried Kurata, beside himself with anger and grief, "you are the bravest of samurai." He drew his long sword, raised it high above the neck of his comrade.
"Thanks, Kurata," gasped Toranoshin.
"We'll meet in heaven," Kurata screamed, and an instant later Toranoshin's head lay in front of the corpse, blood pumping from the neck in gruesome, audible spurts. Kurata wiped the blood from his sword with his sleeve, resheathed the blade, and screamed, "Vengeance! We must get vengeance!"
"What are we waiting for?" yelled another man. "Let's go. We must avenge the death of the Ikeda brothers."
"Wait!" Hanpeita roared, commanding the attention of the some twenty men present. "Shintaro, take care of the body," he said. "Ryoma, you take everyone to my house and make sure that nobody does anything rash. I'm going to report this to the authorities."
"But Sensei," Kurata objected, tears of rage flowing down his face, "we can't forgive this. We must avenge Toranoshin's brave death."
"Down with the upper-samurai!" Shintaro shouted. "Down with Tosa Han!"
"Down with the Yamanouchi!" several others shouted.
'Calm down!" Hanpeita ordered, silencing the entire group. Glaring through steely eyes the sword master said, "Everyone go with Ryoma. We must act coolly, deliberately and most of all accurately. We will strike when the time is right," declared the undisputed leader of all young samurai of the lower classes in Tosa Han.
* * *
Around this time, a quite separate event of even greater consequences incited contempt throughout the population of upper-samurai in Kochi Castletown. The Lord of Tosa, Yamanouchi Yodo, had been forced into retirement by Ii Naosuke, and subsequently placed under house arrest at his villa in Edo.
Yamanouchi Yodo, who as an outside lord had no authority in the Edo government, was nevertheless considered one of the "Four Brilliant Lords" of his time. With the coming of Perry in 1853, the then twenty-seven-year-old Tosa daimyo, an accomplished poet and swordsman, took it upon himself to write a letter to the Bakufu, advising absolute refusal of the American demands to open the country. "Since refusal will undoubtedly mean war with the barbarians," he wrote, "it is of utter importance for Japan to prepare itself for war if we are to avoid becoming another China." With only direct retainers of the Shogun invited to express opinions in national affairs, such a bold display by an outside lord was unprecedented.
Yodo's brazen personality even vexed his own government ministers, most of whom were far older than the self-styled "poet warrior" when he ascended to Tosa rule at age nineteen. During a ceremonial party in the Grand Hall of Kochi Castle, too much sake had led some of the more loquacious ministers to express disapproval for their young lord's display of bravado on the previous day, upon his return from his first official visit to Edo. When Yodo's entourage of some four hundred samurai reached the vicinity of Kochi Castle after weeks of travel, the daimyo was advised to remain seated in his palanquin, and allow himself to be carried along the road leading to the castle gates. This, after all, was considered the only proper manner for a daimyo to return to his realm. Not so for Yamanouchi Yodo, who preferred to portray the image of a powerful warlord of three centuries passed, during the age when respect from one's vassals could only be earned through sheer strength. Paying little regard to customs which had, in his mind, become effeminate through the comforts of two and a half centuries of peace, Lord Yodo called for his own horse, climbed out of his palanquin, mounted the steed and rode majestically past the throngs of samurai and townspeople who waited in kneeled reverence until the procession had passed safely through the castle gates.
Yodo, who had been drinking alone on the following night in a room in the inner-palace, overheard the disapproving talk among his ministers in the Grand Hall. He proceeded to storm through the door, startling all present, and immediately grabbing one of them by the sleeve. "So, you've been ridiculing me behind my back," Yodo hollered. Releasing the man, Yodo removed his silken kimono. Naked but for his loincloth, the muscular young lord challenged the befuddled minister to a wrestling match right there in the Grand Hall. The previously festive mood was now as solemn as the main hall of a Buddhist temple, as Yodo ordered his retainer to accept. "If you don't fight your hardest," he roared, "I'll order you to cut your belly open." Infuriated at the younger man's audacity, the minister charged him, but was immediately knocked off his feet by a powerful blow to the jaw. "Next!" the daimyo ordered another minister to attack, also knocking him down, before proceeding to beat up all twelve ministers in similar fashion.
Having quite literally subjugated his vassals, the Lord of Tosa stood at the center of the Grand Hall, arms folded at his bare chest. "I guess there's nobody here who can beat me," he snickered, then calmly put on his kimono before leaving his twelve befuddled ministers to themselves.
The "poet warrior" was also in the habit of lambasting other daimyo, most of whom he openly considered his mental inferiors. As his reputation spread, many of the feudal lords who were in attendance in Edo refused invitations to drink with him, fearing that an evening with the "Drunken Lord of the Sea of Whales"-Lord Yodo's nom deplume was indicative of both his love of sake and the whales which abounded off the Tosa coast-might lead to political discussion concerning the difficult times, and an inevitable tongue-lashing by the eloquent daimyo.
Yodo's wrath even extended to the lords of the Three Tokugawa Branch Houses. In the event that any of the other some 260 daimyo should encounter one of these three elite lords while traveling through the streets of Edo, he was required to alight his palanquin and pay the proper respects. To avoid such humiliation, most lords were in the custom of ordering their palanquin bearers to steer clear of any palanquin displaying the crests of Owari, Kii or Mito. Not so Lord Yodo. One rainy day the Tosa daimyo, upon spotting the crest of Owari, ordered his own vehicle be stopped right along side of the esteemed Tokugawa retainer. Ignoring the downpour, Yodo alighted his palanquin, calmly walked over to that of the Lord of Owari, and paid the proper respects. Upon such an occasion, however, protocol also demanded that the Owari daimyo lean out of his own palanquin in acknowledgment of the respects paid. Accordingly, the Lord of Owari was, like Yodo, thoroughly drenched. Yodo's strategy worked: from this time on whenever a lord of the Three Tokugawa Branch Houses spotted the palanquin displaying the Tosa crest, he would inevitably order his bearers to steer clear of "that crazy daimyo of Tosa."
Yodo's boldness seemed to know no limits. During his first meeting with the head of the Shogun's Senior Council, Yodo muttered something about the heavy responsibilities of the elite councilor's high position.
"Not at all," the councilor graciously dismissed the flattery.
Here, however, the conversation took a sarcastic turn. "What I actually think," said Yodo, "is that you must have a very easy time and enjoy yourself in dealing with so many stupid daimyo. But I guarantee things won't be quite so easy with me."
Yodo had cause for indignation. Among the feudal lords in Japan, whose rule was hereditary, were literal morons who could neither read nor write. Others, having been pampered since birth, hadn't the faintest idea of the great problems facing the nation. In contrast, Lord Yodo was a gifted poet, accomplished scholar, eloquent speaker, and polished swordsman. As Lord of Tosa, he ranked nineteenth in revenue among all the feudal lords, and held a Fourth Imperial Court ranking, entitling him to sit among his peers before the Shogun, in the Great Hall of Edo Castle. It was natural for a man of his caliber to resent the archaic system which prohibited him from taking part in national affairs simply because he was an outside lord, while other "stupid daimyo" were invited to voice their opinions merely because of birthright.
Moreover, Yodo's brazen personality clashed with that of Regent Ii Naosuke. Just as the self-respecting "poet warrior" had spoken his mind to the head of the Shogun's Senior Council, he had recently made known to the Edo government his views concerning the defense of Osaka from possible foreign invasion. Drinking alone one night, as was his custom, Yodo composed a letter to the Bakufu from his official residence in Edo, advising that the best way to protect Japan's mercantile center would be to first burn the entire city to the ground. Quite a bold suggestion, considering that Osaka was a domain of the Shogun himself. Despite the Japanese saying "There is but a fine line between insanity and genius," the Drunken Lord of the Sea of Whales had substantial reason for his radical views. "The city is inhabited entirely by merchants," Yodo wrote. "And most of these merchants know how to do little else but make money. In fact, if an Osaka merchant should happen to cross paths with a lone samurai, he would inevitably start quivering like a scared rabbit at the sight of the two swords. What would happen if a fleet of Black Ships were to open fire from Osaka Bay, before actually landing to invade the city? Surely you can't suppose that such cowardly merchants would take up arms and fight. As I know that you will agree, the useless inhabitants of Osaka would surely choose to run with their money in the opposite direction, leaving the entire city in the hands of the barbarians." Yodo suggested that if Osaka were leveled to the ground so that one could see for leagues in all directions, the samurai assigned to protect the city would stand a far greater chance of repelling an invasion.
Upon reading Yodo's letter, Regent Ii, who was by now the absolute ruler of the Tokugawa regime, flinched, then muttered a single phrase under his breath, telltale of the Tosa lord's imminent confinement: "That son of a bitch!"
Fortunately, Yodo had recently recalled his favorite vassal, Yoshida Toyo, from temporary retirement, and appointed him as regent of Tosa Han, the most powerful post in the domain. Although Toyo was of the lower echelons of Tosa's upper-samurai classes, he was one of the most educated men in the han, who had first come to Yodo's notice in 1853, the year that Perry's fleet appeared off the coast of Edo. The pressing times had compelled the Tosa daimyo to recruit a group of able officials to organize a list of major reforms within his fiefdom. As leader of this group, Toyo became the target of animosity by the ousted members of the old guard, the highest stratum of Tosa society, who, in their preoccupation with maintaining the status quo, had lost sight of the necessity for economic reform in the face of modernization.
One hot summer night in 1854, while Toyo was in attendance upon his lord in Edo, an incident occurred which would result in four years of temporary retirement for Yodo's able but perhaps overly self-esteeming, if not notoriously obstinate, retainer. Yodo was holding a small party at his official residence for a distant relative who was stationed in Edo in Bakufu service. When Yodo's special guest became drunk he verbally ridiculed Toyo, and even tapped him on the head with his fan.
"Watch your manners!" Toyo burst out angrily, punching the Bakufu functionary square in the face. Then jumping on top of him and pinning him down on the floor, Toyo said furiously: "Not only have I dedicated my life to Lord Yodo, but I am also a minister of his great domain. Was it your intention to slight my lord by laying a hand on his loyal vassal?" Despite the man's frantic apologies, Toyo punched him again, and could only be stopped when Yodo himself physically intervened. Insulted, the guest suggested to Yodo that seppuku would be a just and proper punishment for his errant vassal.
Feigning indignation, Yodo ordered Toyo into another room until riled spirits could be calmed. In order to avoid further trouble with the Bakufu official, Yodo returned his favorite retainer to Kochi, where he was forced to resign his post and live quietly in a small village on the outskirts of the castletown.
Yodo was bewildered over the temporary loss of such an able man, whom he had every intention of reinstating when the time was right. The chance finally came four years later, shortly before Ii Naosuke's sudden rise to power. Then, when Yodo was forced into retirement and confined to his villa in Edo, Toyo quite naturally became first minister to the new Lord of Tosa. But since Yodo's heir was only thirteen years old at the time, Yoshida Toyo, at forty-three, assumed control of the Tosa government in the spring of 1859. Although there was great concern in Kochi that Ii Naosuke may go to such extremes as to abolish the Yamanouchi lineage and confiscate the entire Tosa domain, it was largely due to Toyo's scrutiny and wise negotiation with Bakufu officials that Yodo's punishment was kept to the minimal forced retirement and house confinement in Edo.
* * *
"Ryoma!" Takechi Hanpeita called at the front door of the Sakamoto house late one morning in the second week of March. "Have you heard the news?" he said, entering.
"What is it?" Ryoma, lying on the living room floor, replied drowsily.
"Ii Naosuke has been assassinated."
"What?" Ryoma started in surprise. Ii Naosuke was not only the most powerful man in Japan, but as Lord of Hikone, was always accompanied by an entourage of armed bodyguards. Getting through such an escort to take the head of the regent was a nearly impossible task, even for eighteen expert swordsmen who were resigned to die on the spot.
The impossible was achieved on the snowy morning of March 3, 1860, when a band of samurai, dedicated to the perpetuation of things Japanese, cut down Ii Naosuke at one of the main gates of Edo Castle, putting an abrupt end to the regent's reign of terror, and unleashing a wave of assassination which would not cease until after the downfall of the Tokugawa Bakufu seven years later.
"Seventeen men from Satsuma and one from Mito did the job," Hanpeita told Ryoma. "First they cut the devil while he was still in his palanquin. Then, after pulling him out onto the freshly fallen snow, they cut him up. Finally, the Mito man took the devil's head and ran with it to the front gate of the house of a member of Ii's Senior Council, where he committed seppuku."
Ryoma sat up straight, gave Hanpeita a hard look. "If the regent of the Tokugawa Bakufu can be cut down in cold blood at the very gates of Edo Castle," he said, "then there's no telling who might be next. People in Edo are going to go crazy, cutting down Bakufu officials left and right."
"Yes," Hanpeita agreed through steely eyes. "We Tosa men can't let Mito and Satsuma outdo us. We too have to prove our single dedication to the Imperial cause."
During the following months, Ryoma's house served as a gathering place for the disciples of Master Zuizan, and for other so-called Men of High Purpose who came to the castletown from throughout the seven districts of Tosa. With the death of the Ikeda brothers having ignited two and a half centuries of smoldering resentment into raging flames of anger toward the privileged upper classes, these young men had adopted a defiant attitude toward the establishment in Tosa. Then, with the assassination of Regent Ii Naosuke, the collective scorn of Tosa's lower-samurai was now also aimed at the Tokugawa Bakufu in Edo.
Nor was the radical effect of Ii's assassination limited to the lower-samurai of Tosa. Samurai from Choshu and Satsuma, the two most powerful "outside han," were now burning with a mutual resentment for the Edo regime which had subjugated them for the past two and a half centuries. In short, the fear by which the Bakufu had controlled the island nation began evaporating into thin air at the very instant the regent's warm blood dyed the freshly fallen snow a deep shade of crimson at the gates of the Shogun's castle.
The Lord of Tosa, however, was not inclined to oppose the Bakufu. Unlike the Mori of Choshu and the Shimazu of Satsuma, whose ancestors had been subjugated for having fought against the first Shogun, the Yamanouchi of Tosa owed its rule to the goodwill of the founder of the Tokugawa regime. Accordingly, the upper-samurai of Tosa neither shared the contempt for the Bakufu that prevailed among the lower classes of their fief, nor would they ever collectively stand against the Tokugawa. Although Lord Yodo would continue his call for change within the shogunal system, he would support his ancestral benefactor in Edo to the bitter end.
* * *
In addition to the foreign treaties, another issue which the Imperial Loyalists adamantly opposed was the call for an alliance between the Imperial Court at Kyoto and the military regime at Edo. By means of a "Union of Court and Camp," as the proposed alliance was called, the Bakufu hoped to subdue the Loyalists. Those who claimed loyalty to the Emperor would certainly not wage war against Edo, for doing so would be tantamount to taking sides against the Imperial Court. The Tokugawa also reasoned that by uniting with the court, it would be able to maintain its absolute political authority which had been under question since the coming of Perry in 1853, and more recently with the assassination of the regent. But the plan had one great flaw: although the court would indeed recognize Edo's absolute political authority, by seeking to borrow Imperial prestige, Edo was acknowledging the power which Kyoto had recently come to wield.
Nevertheless, to secure a union with the court, the Bakufu proposed that a marriage be arranged between Shogun Iemochi, only fourteen years old, and Princess Kazu, the thirteen-year-old sister of Emperor Komei. Once the Princess was married to the Shogun and living within the confines of Edo Castle, a Loyalist attack on the Bakufu would be nothing short of an assault on the Imperial Family. In short, the Bakufu reasoned that once this political marriage had actually been achieved, the radicals would no longer be able to use their claim of "loyal dedication to the Son of Heaven" as a war banner by which to act against the Shogun, who would be directly related to the Emperor.
In order to persuade Emperor Komei to sanction the marriage proposal, the Bakufu claimed that such a bond would serve to unite the hearts of the Japanese people, thus consolidate national strength so that Japan would be in a better position to expel the "barbarian devils." Then, in July 1860, the Bakufu pledged the impossible: to expel the foreigners from Japan if the Princess would marry the Shogun, an offer which the chronically xenophobic Emperor could not refuse.
The Tosa Loyalist Party
Despite Sakamoto Ryoma s position of leadership among Men of High Purpose in Tosa, he had recently come to embrace secret ambitions that he could not yet disclose to his more traditional-minded comrades. Although he sympathized with their xenophobic sentiment, he was captivated by the idea of one day commanding a Western-style warship. Kawada Shoryo had taught him the futility of trying to expel the technologically advanced foreigners without first importing warships, guns and the expertise to use them. To achieve this, Japan would have to open itself to foreign trade. In this sense, Ryoma s views did not much differ from those of Tosa Regent Yoshida Toyo, nor certain farsighted Bakufu officials, including Ii Naosuke himself. But unlike the Tosa regent, and, needless to say, men of the Tokugawa, Ryoma reasoned that those who really meant to save Japan from foreign subjugation must put Western technology to use to overthrow the decrepit Bakufu and replace it with a new government centered around the Imperial Court. However, as even the slightest mention of support for Opening the Country would be considered traitorous among his comrades, Ryoma was compelled' to maintain a strict code of silence until the time was right. Frustrated, the Dragon waited.
Takechi Hanpeita had been on a year-long subversive journey to gain support' for the Loyalist cause in some of the more powerful clans in Japan. Soon after his return to Kochi in the fall of 1861, the leader of the Tosa Loyalists paid a visit to the home of his right-hand man.
"Ryoma," Hanpeita said, "I have some important matters to discuss with you." The two men sat on the living room floor at Ryoma's home, next to a short, dark wooden table, on which were placed a large ceramic flask of sake, and two small cups. "I have some things to show you before I get into; the details of what I've accomplished over the past year." Hanpeita accepted a cup of sake from Ryoma, but replaced it on the table without drinking. "I got this in Edo," Hanpeita said, reaching for his sword which he had previously placed on the floor at his left side. The hilt was made of sharkskin and wrapped with fine silk, the guard of polished gold, and the gilt deep blue scabbard lined with silver on its bottom edge. Hanpeita slowly drew the razor-sharp blade from the scabbard. "Beautiful, isn't it," he said. "It was made by one of the finest sword smiths in Edo." Holding the blade above the table, he proclaimed in a low, deliberate voice: "With this we will cut down the enemies of the Emperor." Hanpeita slammed the blade back into the scabbard with a loud clang.
"I'll drink to that," Ryoma said, and drained his cup. Hanpeita did not drink. Rather, the stoic swordsman, who had recently acquired a reputation among Men of High Purpose for his dedication to the Emperor, produced, a document from the breast of his kimono. "This," he said proudly, "is the Manifesto of the Tosa Loyalist Party."
"The Tosa Loyalist Party?"
"Yes. And this is our manifesto," Hanpeita said, staring hard at Ryoma, "to be signed by any Tosa man who will fight to unite Tosa in the struggle to overthrow the Bakufu, expel the barbarians, and return the political power to His Imperial Majesty in Kyoto."
"Unite Tosa?" Ryoma said in disbelief.
"Precisely!" said the leader of the Tosa Loyalist Party, thoughtfully stroking his long chin.
"You can't think that the upper-samurai will ever agree to unite themselves with the lower-samurai," Ryoma snickered.
"Leave that to me, Ryoma. I've promised the Loyalists of Choshu and Satsuma that I would unite Tosa under the banner of Imperial Loyalism. We've pledged to form an alliance between our three great han as soon as we can demonstrate our collective strength and dedication to the Emperor. That is why we must unite Tosa behind Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism," Hanpeita uttered the new Loyalist slogan which was rapidly replacing Imperial Reverence and Expelling the Barbarians as the battle cry of Men of High Purpose.
"You can't be serious," Ryoma groaned. "How can you really believe that the daimyo and his ministers would ever listen to you? You're just a lower-samurai. They'd only laugh in your face, if they didn't have you arrested first. You know that it's prohibited to form political parties. But even if it wasn't, the idea that the Yamanouchi would ever vow to overthrow the Bakufu," Ryoma sneered at the blind loyalty of the Lord of Tosa for his ancestral benefactors in Edo, "is just not realistic."
"I'm absolutely serious," Hanpeita calmly objected to Ryoma's lack of enthusiasm for his meticulously devised plans. "With the strength in these arms," he vowed, again drawing his blade and holding it before his face, "I'll see to it that Tosa stands for Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism."
As Hanpeita continued to explain, he intended to convince the Tosa authorities of the necessity of expelling the foreigners from Japan, but of the futility of trying to do so under the leadership of the decrepit shogunal system. He hoped that Lord Yodo, whom he reasoned would be able to see the virtue of his plan, would agree to lead an army of Tosa Loyalists into Kyoto, guard the Imperial Palace and restore the political power to the "Divine Emperor." In short, the Loyalists were plotting to overthrow the Bakufu for having yielded to foreign demands without Imperial sanction, and in so doing restore Japan's damaged pride.
While I intend to persuade the Tosa authorities to support us," Hanpeita said, "I am fully aware that this plan can only be realized through the support of all the lower-samurai in the seven districts of Tosa. Only through such massive support can our noble goal be realized." Hanpeita handed the manifesto to Ryoma. "We already have eight signatures from men who were in Edo at the time we drew up the manifesto. Now, I ask that you, Sakamoto Ryoma, be the first to sign your name to it in Tosa. I'm counting on your support. I need your leadership to recruit more men." Hanpeita had recently taken the nom de guerre "Shield of the Emperor" for his dedication to imperial Loyalism. His party's manifesto began as follows:
ls a source of deepest grief to our Emperor that our magnificent and
divine country has been humiliated by the barbarians and that the Spirit of, Japan, which has been transmitted from antiquity, is on the brink of being extinguished."
The manifesto continued to state that too many samurai, grown lazy and weak from the long years of Tokugawa peace, had lost the Spirit of Japan. Those who were most lazy and weak were the Tokugawa retainers who had yielded to foreign demands. It disdained the unjust chastisement of such a "noble heart" as Lord Yodo, who had been "accused and punished for the wise advice he had given those in power." It proclaimed that every member of the party must be willing to "go through fire and water to ease the Emperor's mind, to carry out the will of our former daimyo (Yodo), and to purge this evil from our people." Should any signatory put personal considerations before the cause, it admonished, "he shall incur the punishment of the angered gods." Any such man, it explicitly warned, "shall be summoned before his comrades to commit seppuku."
Ryoma finished reading the manifesto, placed it on the table. "The Language is so pompous," he said, "so rigid. Just like you, Hanpeita. But if it means that much to you, I'll sign it. I'll dedicate myself to overthrowing the Bakufu, and saving our nation. But I don't see any possibility of the Tosa daimyo supporting us. And I know you know that the upper-samurai will never cooperate with the lower-samurai. They think we're no better than animals. But in the United States of America," Ryoma suddenly changed his tone, "the president has to consider the good of all of the people. The Tokugawa Shogun, on the other hand, has for the past two and a half centuries been concerned solely with the welfare of the Tokugawa Bakufu, with the feudal lords caring only for their own fiefdoms. This alone is enough to warrant the overthrow of the rotten Bakufu and the entire feudal system." Ryoma stopped speaking, his face red with anger. "Yes, Hanpeita, I'll sign." Ryoma picked up a writing brush, dabbed it on a block of black Chinese ink, signed his name in four large, bold characters to the list of sworn followers of the Tosa Loyalist Party. "Let me borrow your sword," he said," thinking it more appropriate to use Hanpeita's symbolic blade than his own. Unsheathing the blade, Ryoma pressed the tip of his left small finger on the edge, and sealed his name in blood. "Hanpeita," he said, grabbing his friend's hand, "even if we should succeed in uniting Tosa behind Toppling: the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism, I want you to realize that my signing this manifesto is not a pledge that I will remain in this rotten han and fight side by side with the upper-samurai."
"What do you mean?" Hanpeita gave Ryoma a hard look.
"What I mean is that I can't promise to be limited."
"Limited to what? To Imperial Loyalism?"
"No. I can't promise to be limited to toppling the Bakufu within the confines of Tosa."
"I don't follow you. What do you mean?"
"I mean exactly what I said. I don't know when I might be leaving this rotten han. But I will make one thing clear, Hanpeita. As long as Sakamoto ' Ryoma is alive, as long as there is blood flowing through these veins, breath in these lungs, strength in these arms, I pledge to topple the Tokugawa Bakufu."
Ryoma tightened his grip on Hanpeita's hand, and laughed to hold back the tears that were welling up inside his head. "But," he quickly added, staring straight into Hanpeita's eyes, "I have to do it my own way."
"What way is that, Ryoma?" Hanpeita said grimly.
"I haven't discovered it yet." Ryoma released his grip on Hanpeita's hand.
"Then, until you do, will you help me recruit men for the party?"
"Yes." Ryoma took his own sword. "I swear on my sword," he uttered the ancient pledge of the warrior. Releasing the latch, he drew the blade slightly from its sheath, then immediately slammed it back into place, clanging the silver guard against the metallic rim.
"On our swords!" Hanpeita repeated the pledge, clanging the guard of his own weapon. "This body, this mind, this very spirit within me is the shield of our cause," he solemnly pledged, his eyes too filling with tears. "And you, Sakamoto Ryoma, are the sword, and the very pillar of our noble struggle. Together we will overthrow the Bakufu," he proclaimed, as a single teardrop escaped the corner of his eye.
As Hanpeita continued to explain, his recently devised plan had come into being as a result of his meeting with revolutionary samurai from other han of Loyalist sentiment, namely Choshu, Mito and Satsuma.
"We've agreed that the proper measures must be taken soon against the Bakufu, as it has been plotting to convince the Imperial Court to sanction a marriage proposal between the Shogun and the Emperor's sister," Hanpeita said disdainfully. "Once the Princess is living within Edo Castle, she'll be a veritable hostage, and the Imperial Court will thus be forced to bend to the Bakufu's will. If that happens, we'll have even greater difficulty overthrowing the Bakufu and protecting Japan from the barbarians." The self-styled Shield of the Emperor paused, cleared his throat, then continued. "I particularly spent a lot of time this summer with men from Choshu," he said.
Choshu had ample reason for harboring a special hatred for the Bakufu. After his victory in the Battle of Sekigahara, the first Tokugawa Shogun confiscated eighty percent of the land of the former Choshu domain, which until then had been the largest in all of Japan, to ensure that his vanquished enemy could never pose a threat to Tokugawa rule. Soon after, however, Choshu began to industrialize its economy. At a time when the economy of the Bakufu, and indeed the economies of most of the fiefdoms throughout Japan, were dependent primarily on the production of rice, Choshu was engaged in such light industrial projects as the manufacture of paper and wax, and was meanwhile developing arable land to increase its annual rice yield. By 1853, the beginning of the end of Tokugawa rule, while other fiefs were struggling to subsist on their decrepit agricultural economies, Choshu had an annual income of nearly three times that of its predecessors at the outset of Tokugawa rule.
Latent anti-Bakufu sentiments in Choshu, simmering for the past two and a half centuries, eventually manifested themselves as Imperial Reverence and Expelling the Barbarians, and more recently as Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism. The man who had reignited the flame of these anti-Bakufu sentiments was the martyred Loyalist teacher Yoshida Shoin, a victim of Regent Ii's purge. Among Yoshida's top disciples were three Choshu samurai who would not hesitate to use the great wealth of their han to purchase modern warships and weapons to challenge the Tokugawa. Their names were Takasugi Shinsaku, Kusaka Genzui and Katsura Kogoro.
One hot afternoon in the previous August, Hanpeita had met with Takasugi and Kusaka at an Edo teahouse to discuss the formation of Loyalist Parties in Choshu and Tosa, and the necessity for war to "cleanse the nation of the Western stain."
"Zuizan-sensei, please have a drink," Takasugi said, raising a porcelain flask to pour sake for Hanpeita. The eldest son of an elite Choshu samurai family, Takasugi had the uncanny ability to vacillate his subtle personality between that of wolf and poet. Going through the formality of holding up his cup to accept some sake from Takasugi, Hanpeita returned it to the table without drinking. "It will be necessary to consolidate our power," he said, looking hard at both men, who returned his powerful stare with equal intensity. "That's why I strongly propose an alliance between Satsuma, Choshu and Tosa. I doubt the ability of any one of our han alone to challenge the Bakufu forces in all-out war.' But I also doubt that even the Bakufu could stand up against a Choshu-Tosa- Satsuma alliance."
"Zuizan-sensei," Kusaka began speaking in an excited but low voice. "Princess Kazu is due to leave Kyoto for Edo in October. We can't allow. her to enter Edo Castle, because once she does she'll be a hostage. We are therefore planning to intercept the entire Imperial procession and personally return the Princess to the Imperial Palace."
"Then, after she is safely back in Kyoto...." Takasugi intervened, his voice1
trembling with passion.
"We are going to cut down the Tokugawa councilor Ando Nobumasa, the villain behind the scheme to marry the Shogun to the Princess," interjected Kusaka.
"Your intentions are just," Hanpeita said calmly, his voice void of emotion. "But it would be unwise to act too rashly at the present. I can see nothing of permanent value being gained by sending the Princess back to Kyoto, or even by cutting down Ando. Such deeds would only be ruinously costly to our cause, a waste of valuable Loyalist life. And even if you were successful l in returning the Princess to the Imperial Palace, she would most likely be, sent out again under a much stronger guard. Although assassinating Ando' might temporarily ease our indignation, it would be a warning to the Bakufu to take even greater precaution. Besides, Ando can always be replaced."
"Zuizan-sensei," Kusaka said, his eyes wide open, "we must act now*; before it's too late. The only way to deal with these matters is through violence. We have to destroy our enemies if we are to save the Empire. We must wash away the foul stench of the barbarians with the blood of the Tokugawa and its henchmen."
"Yes," Takasugi said, "the only way to drive out the barbarians is through force."
"There is no denying that," Hanpeita agreed. "All samurai must be prepared to die when the time is right, when the necessity arises. But right now I strongly propose that we return to our domains to organize support. Assassinating Ando would prove nothing. But if both of our han stood strongly against the Tokugawa, I am sure that the other han would follow suit. Besides, as you well know, our allies in Satsuma have vowed to unite with us in a triple alliance. Once this happens, the Bakufu will have no choice but to change its cowardly foreign policy."
Hanpeita poured another drink for Ryoma. "If Katsura hadn't suddenly shown up at that particular time," he said, "I might not have been able to convince those two to abandon their radical plans and work more methodically to organize consensus in Choshu."
"Choshu is Choshu," Ryoma suddenly exploded, "but this is Tosa. The Mori of Choshu have no special relationship with the Tokugawa. Their ancestors were merely defeated and subjugated by the Tokugawa two and a half centuries ago. But the Yamanouchi..." Ryoma paused. "You know more about it than I do, Hanpeita."
"Ryoma, I know how you feel about Tosa. I know how you feel about the upper-samurai. But we can't do anything without organization. We are powerless when split into factions. But consolidated, we would definitely be ¦a force to be reckoned with. Choshu and Satsuma men have promised to persuade their respective governments to unite behind Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism, and I must convince Yoshida Toyo of the same thing."
"You don't actually believe that Yoshida will listen to you," Ryoma scoffed. "The Tosa regent is dedicated to the House of Yamanouchi, which is loyal to the Tokugawa. Yoshida supports a Union of Court and Camp, which the Bakufu has been struggling to achieve."
"I am confident I can persuade Yoshida,' Hanpeita said. "But before I approach Yoshida, I have to organize support among our own men," he said, carefully refolding the blood-sealed manifesto of the Tosa Loyalist Party. Then, taking firm hold of the hilt of his sword, Hanpeita added coldly, "But if the regent should refuse, I'll have to find other means to deal with him."
"When you meet the regent," Ryoma said, looking hard at Hanpeita, "you should try to find a way to kill him."
"I just might have to," Hanpeita acknowledged through steely eyes.
Yes," Ryoma laughed, "because a man who is easy to kill is useless."
"What do you mean?" Hanpeita gave Ryoma a puzzled look.
'I mean that you should not even deal with a man who is easy to kill. You should just leave him alone. But a man who would be hard to kill, is a man of wisdom."
"And?"
"Ryoma laughed again. "That's the kind of man you should be quick to fool into becoming your ally."
* * *
By the beginning of October, 192 Tosa men had signed the manifesto, and a good many more had pledged their allegiance to the Tosa Loyalist Party without actually affixing their names to the document, thus giving Hanpeita ample confidence to visit the home of the powerful Tosa regent.
"Zuizan-sensei," Toyo addressed in mock respect the rebel leader who I sat facing him in the regent's drawing room. "You are aware that the Yamanouchi of Tosa have a much different relationship with the Bakufu than do either the Shimazu of Satsuma or the Mori of Choshu?" The regent spoke in a condescending tone, his large, intelligent face betraying ill humor at what he considered the "impudence of a lower-samurai."
"I'm aware of that," Hanpeita nodded slowly. "However..."
"If so," Toyo sharply interrupted, grasping a porcelain tea cup, "you should also be aware that it is neither wise nor profitable to be dealing with criminal, anti-Bakufu elements in either Satsuma or Choshu." Toyo's threatening expression did nothing to offset Hanpeita's icy glare.
"Yoshida-sensei," Hanpeita cunningly referred to the regent with the honorable suffix rather than his official title, "unless our han also takes the appropriate measures, it will lose out to Choshu and Satsuma, as they are
sure to unite to embrace the Emperor with thousands of troops at the Imperial Palace in Kyoto, and topple the Tokugawa Bakufu. Such a display of military strength and Imperial Loyalism will certainly attract support among other han, first in Western Japan and then throughout the entire Empire. We must not permit Tosa to be branded a traitor to the Emperor for not having officially endorsed Imperial Loyalism."
"Zuizan-sensei," Toyo laughed derisively, finishing his tea and putting down the empty cup, "you speak rot. The Shimazu are related through marriage to the Yamanouchi. If the Lord of Satsuma was actually planning to lead an army into Kyoto, don't you think he would first inform Lord Yodo's regent before taking such a drastic measure? You shouldn't take to heart everything you hear. You don't seem to have read enough Japanese history. Throughout the ages each time the Emperor and the court nobles have voiced their opinions, trouble has always followed. Whenever the court has tried to seize political power, there has always been a war. And now they are starting to make noise again in Kyoto. Certainly you know that it was the founders of the three military governments throughout Japanese history who were successful in bringing peace to our nation. Use your head! Give up your sophomoric ideas. A man of your intelligence and influence should be of service to Tosa, not a negative force working against us."
Yoshida Toyo supported Edo's drive for a Union of Court and Camp. He reasoned that bumbling court nobles, who refused to cooperate with the necessary moves to meet the changing times, needed to be controlled, and such a ' union offered a satisfactory means by which to dominate what he considered to be "the renegade Loyalists in Kyoto," whom Hanpeita was representing.
Hanpeita suppressed his rage, collected his thoughts and began to speak in a cool, deliberate manner. "Yoshida-sensei, it is my every intention to be of service to Tosa. I therefore implore you to heed our manifesto." He thrust the document at his nemesis as if it were a weapon by which he might topple the conservative Tosa regime.
Toyo ran his eyes over the blood-sealed manifesto, and sardonically laughed aloud. "You don't really believe that we could expel the barbarians without first opening up the country," he said, his previously sarcastic tone replaced by one of gravity. "First we must conduct trade with the barbarians in order to enrich ourselves to a degree that we can deal with them on our own terms. Zuizan-sensei, how would you expect to defeat the barbarians when we don't even have one decent warship of our own?" Toyo paused, then began reading aloud from the manifesto, a derisive grin on his face. '" We now join our forces in brotherhood to reactivate the Spirit of Japan..."'' He stopped reading. "In other words," Toyo scoffed, "what you are actually saying here is that a band of lower-samurai have taken it upon themselves to join forces with the upper-samurai to reform Tosa policy. How could you," he roared violently, "have the impudence to assume that I would even consider such a preposterous idea? It seems you are asking me to grant the lower-samurai the right to participate in the administration of Tosa."
"That's precisely what I'm asking. I implore you, Yoshida-sensei, for the good of Tosa and for the Empire..."
"Over my dead body," Toyo roared.
Hanpeita's eyes flashed as a dark thought crossed his mind, and a momentary silence resounded throughout the regent's drawing room.
"It would seem to me, Hanpeita," Toyo now condescendingly referred to the sword master by his given name, "that you have disregarded Tosa policy altogether." He continued reading aloud from the manifesto, handling the document by the tips of his fingers as if it were something filthy with which he did not want to dirty his hands: "'We swear by our deities that if the Imperial Banner is once raised we will go through fire and water to ease the Emperor s mind, to carry out the will of our former daimyo, and to purge this evil from our people.''"
Toyo stopped reading, then threw the document on the floor. "In other words, Hanpeita, you totally disregard the Shogun to whom the Yamanouchi owe their very existence as ruler of our great domain. And in the same breath you have the audacity to pledge to carry out the will of Lord Yodo. That's not only a lie and a blatant contradiction, but it's also a complete insult to our daimyo. If I showed this to him, he'd have you cut open your belly." Toyo paused, drew his forefinger slowly across his neck, and added with sardonic laughter, "If he didn't have your head first."
* * *
He's our only obstacle," Hanpeita uncharacteristically sighed, after relaying to Ryoma and his favorite disciple, Nakaoka Shintaro, the contents of his conversation with Yoshida Toyo. The recollection of having been made a fool of by the arrogant regent left the proud sword master with a bitter taste in his mouth and an ache in his gut that longed for revenge. Equally troubling him was the prospect of losing face among his Choshu and Satsuma allies for his failure to fulfill his pledge to unite Tosa under the banner of Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism.
"Hanpeita, I've received official permission to leave Tosa for a month,' Ryoma said. Although ostensibly Ryoma's impending tour was for the purpose of observing fencing academies around western Japan, his actual intent was to gather information for Hanpeita on the political atmosphere in Choshu, particularly the development of Loyalist activities there. "When do you leave?" Hanpeita asked.
"Tomorrow."
"I want you to deliver this message to Kusaka Genzui when you get to Hagi Castletown." Hanpeita reached into his desk for a letter he had written to the leader of the Choshu rebels. The short message explained the futility of attempting to convince the Tosa administration to stand up against Edo for Imperial Loyalism. Hanpeita had finally come to the realization that trying to convince the stubborn Tosa regent would be impossible. Force, reasoned the rebel leader, was the only alternative.
Hanpeita continued speaking to Ryoma and Shintaro in an icy tone: "I have decided to deal with Toyo the only way I can."
"How's that?" Ryoma asked, glancing at Shintaro.
"With this," Hanpeita replied firmly, drawing his long blade from its scabbard.
"Zuizan-sensei," Shintaro blurted, "Let me cut him."
"No," Hanpeita said, then turning to Ryoma asked, "What do you think about my decision?"
Ryoma shrugged, then said, "If killing Yoshida Toyo would mean that Tosa would unite against the Bakufu, I'd do it for you. But I don't believe that he is the only one in this rotten han who is against us. Even with Toyo eliminated, you would still have one more player to contend with," Ryoma scoffed. "Are you also prepared to cut down Lord Yodo himself? Because uniting Tosa against the Tokugawa, would be nothing short of a coup d'etat, and that's exactly what you'd have to do."
"Ryoma, are you with me or against me?" Hanpeita asked, evading the question which was out of the question.
"You know I'm with you. I just can't condone killing Toyo, or anybody else for that matter, without proper reason."
"Ryoma," Hanpeita roared, "you don't seem to understand. With Lord Yodo under house arrest in Edo, Toyo is the only person standing in our way. He must be eliminated."
"Hanpeita, I think we should get out of this rotten han. But if you insist upon working within its bounds, do me one favor."
"What's that?"
"Wait until I get back from Choshu. Wait and hear what the Choshu men have to say before you do anything drastic."
Choshu Han
While Ryoma would travel to Choshu as an envoy of the Tosa Loyalist Party, his mind had already taken a turn toward a less defined but exceedingly more stimulating course of action. He had grown despondent of Tosa, and longed to be rid of the bonds of feudalism-so much so, in fact, that he had recently made up his mind to flee his han. Although he had not yet informed even his closest friends, the "Dragon-Steed" had chosen to bolt, to abandon his han, and in so doing, forfeit home, family and security. He would become a ronin, a lordless samurai, an outlaw. "A samurai receiving a stipend from his lord, " Ryoma was apt to say, "is like a bird being kept in a cage. If I don't feel in my heart that something is right, I get rid of it like I would an old cage. " The old cage, to Ryoma, was his native Tosa.
Ryoma's ideals notwithstanding, the crime of fleeing one's han was among the most serious a samurai could commit, as becoming a ronin was tantamount to forsaking one's feudal lord. But it was an integral part of the unwritten code of the samurai that once a man had decided upon a goal, he must be ready to sacrifice his life in order to fulfill that goal. For Ryoma the goal was clear: building a modern navy and overthrowing the Tokugawa Bakufu. Only the means remained an enigma.
On January 15, 1862, just one day after Ryoma had reached Hagi Castletown in Choshu, Tokugawa Councilor Ando Nobumasa was attacked as he was about to pass through Sakashita Gate, one of the main entryways into Edo Castle. Not only was Ando the mastermind behind the plan to marry the Emperor's sister to the Shogun, but it was rumored that he was also behind a scheme to dethrone the xenophobic Emperor Komei and replace him with a Tokugawa puppet. Such sacrilege was too much for the Loyalists to endure; and although Ando survived the attack, his wounds were sufficient to force him to retire from his post soon after.
On the afternoon of the same day that the Sakashita Gate Incident had sent shock waves throughout the Shogun's capital, a lone ronin called at Choshu headquarters in Edo, looking for Katsura Kogoro.
While there had been no Choshu men directly involved in the assassination attempt, the unexpected visitor, a Mito man by the name of Kawabe, was fully aware that Katsura had known in advance of the secret plot. Although Kawabe had been included in the assassination squad, he had arrived late on the scene, only to discover from a distance that the attempt had failed and his six comrades had been cut down on the spot. "I've come with an urgent message for Katsura-san," the nerve-shattered ronin told a group of Choshu samurai at the outer gate of the headquarters.
Although the cunning Katsura had instructed the guards to send away the unwelcome visitor, Kawabe was adamant in his insistence on speaking with the influential Choshu official. Katsura's reluctance to meet with the ronin from Mito was only natural: he wanted at all costs to avoid dangerous suspicion that he, or any other Choshu man, was in any way involved in the assassination attempt earlier in the day. "Why doesn't he just go away and send me his message if it's so damned important?" Katsura thought irritably to himself.
But Kawabe, who had introduced himself with an alias, refused to leave until he could speak with Katsura. Convinced that the desperate man would not leave without being granted a meeting, Katsura had him brought to an empty hall located in the headquarters compound. Katsura was seated cross-legged on the polished dark wooden floor of the high-ceilinged hall when Kawabe appeared at the doorway There were no furniture or fixtures in this room, which was as cold as the icy air outside.
"You must be Katsura-san," Kawabe said nervously. Although this was' the first time the two had met, Kawabe had heard of Katsura's great fencing skills, and more recently the influence he wielded among the Choshu, Loyalists. "I've come here today with a request of the utmost importance."
"Please keep your voice down." Katsura spoke calmly, without bothering to stand up. "Come, sit down, Kawabe-san," he whispered. Although the Mito ronin had not yet given his real name, Katsura had seen the list of names of the six men who had been cut down. And having been well informed of the assassination plot, he also knew that there was one man, by the name he had just uttered, whose body had not been among the dead. Kawabe entered the hall and sat down on the cold wooden floor, facing Katsura. "What is it?" the Choshu man asked in a soft, calm voice, only his
eyes betraying his contempt for the unwelcome visitor.
"Please allow me to cut open my belly right here in this hall," Kawabe said, his voice trembling.
More than being amazed at the awesome request, Katsura was angered at Kawabe's lack of concern for the welfare of Choshu Han. If it was to become known to the Tokugawa authorities that Katsura Kogoro had anything at all to do with the abortive assassination plot, not only would his own life be is danger, but Choshu itself could very well be subject to severe punishment. In short, for a man who was known to be directly involved in the assassination1 plot to visit, in broad daylight, one of the leading disciples of Choshu's martyred revolutionary teacher, Yoshida Shoin, at Choshu's official headquarters in Edo, was nothing short of insanity. Furthermore, Kawabe's concern for the welfare of his own hart was limitless. His reason for fleeing Mito and becoming an outlaw was, unlike Ryoma's decision, out of loyalty to his han; by defecting, Kawabe and other Mito extremists could be certain that the Lord of Mito and his family would not be subject to punishment in connection with the Ando attack and their other subversive activities.
"Doesn't this idiot realize that if he kills himself here after so blatantly insisting on seeing me, that Choshu heads could very well roll?" Katsura thought to himself, as he stared hard at the very troubled man before him.
"I arrived too late to Sakashita Gate this morning," Kawabe continued in the same trembling voice. Then, reaching into his kimono, he produced a folded document. "This is the written vindication of the assassination.' Kawabe handed the document to Katsura.
Titled The Vindication of Men of High Purpose, it began by stating that the traitorous plotting of Ando was even more blasphemous than that of Ii Naosuke, who had already paid for his crimes with his life. It likened the proposed marriage between the Emperor's sister and the Shogun to kidnapping the Princess from the Imperial Household. It denounced the "Bakufu s secret scheming to dethrone Emperor Komei in case his Sacred Presence should not concede to shogunal demands." But as the Lord of Mito was directly related to the Shogun, the Mito men clearly stated that they harbored no anti-Bakufu sentiment, but rather that the blame for the recent crimes rested entirely on the shoulders of the "evil Councilor Ando Nobumasa."
It was with this last point that Katsura completely disagreed. Like their counterparts in Tosa, the Choshu Loyalists clearly opposed the Bakufu. As a preliminary step for strengthening Japan in order to expel the foreigners, the Choshu and Tosa extremists insisted that it would be necessary to topple the "treacherous and decrepit Bakufu."
"Each of the six men involved in the attack," Kawabe said, "was expected to be carrying a copy of the vindication. But the Bakufu police apparently confiscated the copies from the bodies of the six. This is why I've come here. For the sake of Japan, I implore you to get this last remaining copy into the public eye."
Katsura, knowing well that he could not refuse the request, simply nodded.
"Thank you," Kawabe said, obviously relieved. "Now that I've accomplished my purpose, I will be able to follow my brave comrades into death with peace of mind." The Mito man's voice was calm now. "Would you do me the honor of serving as my second?" he asked, untying his sash and exposing his belly.
"Wait!" Katsura hissed. If Kawabe should commit seppuku right in front of him, he reasoned, there was no telling what the consequences might be. "There's no reason to be in a hurry to die. There is still an endless amount of work that needs to be done, and we need all the support we can get, especially from such dedicated men as yourself."
But no matter how hard Katsura tried to stop him, Kawabe remained determined to cut open his belly right there on the spot.
"How about some sake?" Katsura suggested. "As a farewell salute to this world."
"Sake?" Kawabe's eyes lit up. "A farewell salute," he repeated in a crazed tone. "Yes, that would be fine."
Relieved, Katsura stood up immediately, and left Kawabe alone just long enough to order sake to be brought into the hall before the deranged man could do anything drastic. As Katsura hurried through the dark wooden corridor which surrounded the building, a voice called from behind. "Katsura-san, is something wrong?" This was Ito Shunsuke, who, despite his humble lineage as the son of a samurai's attendant, had risen to official rank due to his reputation as a leading disciple of the late Yoshida Shoin. During the years hat Ito, Katsura, Kusaka and Takasugi had studied at Shoin's private academy in Hagi Castletown, the great revolutionary teacher had praised Ito's keen ability of persuasion, and expressed his expectations for Ito's future as a politician. Shoin's predictions would prove correct a quarter of a century later when Ito would become the first prime minister of Japan. Now, at age twenty-one, Ito had recently been appointed Katsura's assistant at Choshu's official headquarters in Edo.
"Ito!" Katsura said. "Am I glad to see you!" After explaining the problem awaiting him in the hall, but being careful not to incriminate his assistant by making him privy of his previous knowledge of the assassination plot, Katsura asked Ito to try to persuade the Mito ronin to abandon his resolve to die. "I can't seem to convince him not to do it here, but maybe you can," he said. This was Katsura's sole worry. Whether or not Kawabe disemboweled himself was not a matter of great concern to the crafty Loyalist leader, who thus far had been able to avoid any suspicion for his role in the assassination plot.
Without further delay Ito brought a flask of sake and two drinking cups into the hall, where he found Kawabe waiting silently. The future orator began speaking in the same convincing manner that would one day win him the top post in the Japanese government, but he could not persuade Kawabe to abandon his resolve to commit seppuku. Finally, Ito excused himself to report back to Katsura, who was anxiously waiting in a room at the other end of the corridor. "I'm not sure what he'll do," Ito said, "but he seems to be content drinking for the time..." As Ito was speaking, a loud scream of crazed ecstasy came from the other end of the building. "Wonderful! Wonderful!" the
voice cried out.
"He must be drunk," Katsura said. "Let's go take a look."
Katsura and Ito hurried to the hall, where they found the Mito man keeled over on the cold wooden floor, writhing in a pool of blood. The two Choshu men stood at the entranceway momentarily dumbfounded, as Kawabe released
a final gasp and ceased to be.
The ronin from Mito had taken his life in perfect samurai manner. Even after slicing open his belly below the navel horizontally with his short sword he had the self-control to readjust his grip on the hilt and pierce the right side of his throat, slashing all the way across to the left side of his neck. And then in true samurai spirit, he let his body fall forward as his life gushed forth in red spurts. The dead man's right hand still tightly gripped the bloody hilt while his left hand, extended in front of him, was clenched in a fist of agony. Such was the position of the body when Katsura and Ito found it.
"I'll have to report this to the magistrate's office," Katsura groaned.
"Couldn't we just bury the body without reporting it?" Ito asked lamely.
"If Kawabe hadn't come here in broad daylight, that might be possible. But since he was undoubtedly seen coming here, we must report it."
"But, Katsura-san, if we report this to the magistrate there will be a lot of questioning, and there's no telling where that might lead. The magistrate might even suspect that you were involved in the attack on Ando." Although Ito was unaware of Katsura's involvement in the plot, he had ample reason to worry for his safety: their martyred teacher had been executed by the Bakufu for treason two years previously.
"I think it would be best to report it right away," Katsura said. "If we do that, they'll be less apt to suspect that Choshu men were involved in any way."
That afternoon, Katsura and Ito reported the suicide to the magistrate in Edo, explaining that they neither knew Kawabe, nor why he had killed himself at Choshu headquarters. "I was out when it happened," Katsura lied. "I returned just after the incident." As Ito was ignorant of Katsura's involvement in the assassination plot, it was easy for him to support his superior's alibi. And as it was true that Katsura had never met Kawabe before, the magistrate had no evidence whatsoever against the Choshu men.
But further problems awaited Katsura upon his return to the Choshu estate that evening. A high-ranking Choshu official, Nagai Uta, opposed the ideas of Katsura and the rest of the radical Choshu Loyalists. Nagai had recently persuaded the Lord of Choshu to endorse what he termed a Farsighted Plan for Navigation, which was no more than the advocation of a Union of Court and Camp. Nagai's plan was to strengthen the Choshu position among both the court and the Bakufu by acting as arbiter to realize a union. Nagai was the archenemy of the disciples of Yoshida Shoin, who, in accordance with their secret agreement with Takechi Hanpeita, had been struggling to unite their han behind Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism. During the previous summer, while Kusaka Genzui was planning the assassination of Ando by his own hand, Takasugi Shinsaku had been raring to cut down Nagai. Although Nagai did not know, it had been Katsura who saved his life by convincing both of these extremists that the time had not yet come for such drastic measures.
"So, Katsura," Nagai said to his nemesis, "are you sure you didn't have anything to do with the nasty business of today?"
Katsura's eyes flashed. "I don't know what you're talking about," he said coldly. "It's already been determined by the office of the magistrate that I had nothing to do with the incident."
"Is that so?" Nagai scoffed, as if he were able to read Katsura's mind. "It's common knowledge that you were one of Yoshida Shoin's favorite students. But I'll tell you what, Katsura. Just to make sure that there are no bothersome follow-up procedures, why don't I just put in a word or two with..." he paused to let Katsura wriggle on these last words. Although Nagai was shrewd, Katsura, who was even shrewder, remained calm. "I could always put a word in with, you know," Nagai continued, a complacent smile challenging Katsura's uncanny ability to remain cool, "the magistrate himself." As Nagai was the Choshu representative in charge of arbitrating to unite the court with the Bakufu, he was confident of his ability to call off any subsequent investigation of the Kawabe incident.
Katsura quickly saw through Nagai's strategy. He understood the goals of his political enemy. Nagai, of course, knew that Katsura was one of the leaders of the Choshu radicals. With Katsura in his present dangerous position, Nagai reasoned that he could certainly be persuaded to alter his political stance. Surely, Nagai assumed, Katsura would be willing to compromise his ideals to save his own neck.
But Katsura was crafty. "Nagai-san," he said, "anything you can do to fix things would be appreciated."
"Then if I pay the magistrate a visit, I can expect some cooperation on your part?" Nagai confirmed.
"Cooperation?" Katsura smiled sardonically. "Of course! You're a minister to Lord Mori, and I'm prepared to do anything for our daimyo and for Choshu Han."
The magistrate's investigation ended with light reprimands concerning Kawabe's suicide being handed down to Katsura and Ito. This was, of course, due to the close attention that Nagai had given the proceedings, fully expecting Katsura to cooperate in the promotion of his farsighted Plan for Navigation.
Nagai, however, had badly misjudged Katsura's true intentions. Once he was entirely free of the worry of Bakufu harassment, Katsura, with Ito's help, produced numerous copies of the assassins' letter of vindication, and dispersed them among xenophobic sympathizers in Edo. Katsura's plan worked, and it wasn't long before the attack on Ando stirred the spirits of townspeople and samurai alike. The would-be assassins' claim that the Bakufu had planned the dethronement of Emperor Komei was particularly effective in arousing anti-Bakufu sentiment. In fact, when word of this eventually reached the Emperor, it did much to shatter any hopes among the Edo regime of achieving a union with the court in Kyoto.
* * *
Ryoma walked nearly a day and a half along a winding road that followed a swollen river flowing to the Inland Sea through the green mountains of Choshu. He finally reached a valley covered with rice fields, brown in the dead of winter, and dotted with the thatched houses of peasants who tended the fields to feed the samurai who populated the nearby castletown. From here, Ryoma continued his steady pace toward Hagi, despite his tired feet and the cold wind which burnt his parched face. Finally, he caught sight of' the main keep of Hagi Castle towering in the distance, five black-tiled tiers sweeping out from white earthen walls. Ryoma squinted to get a clearer view of the imposing edifice, built atop a perfectly symmetrical stone foundation, and surrounded on three sides by a deep moat. To the immediate north of the castle was a great wooded rock, which was more of a hill than a mountain," but served as ideal protection from possible attack from the Sea of Japan just below.
Ryoma walked anxiously through the town, just south of the castle, the streets lined with samurai houses fronted by high white earthen walls topped-with black tiles. He stopped at one such house, the home of Kusaka Genzui, and without hesitation passed through the high wooden front gate. The sides of the two-storied house were of dark wood and white clay, the roof of black tiles. A young woman, Kusaka's wife, greeted Ryoma at the doorway. "So, this is the sister of the famous Yoshida Shoin," Ryoma thought to himself, impressed with her intelligent face. As Kusaka was not home, but expected back shortly, the woman invited Ryoma inside to wait. Soon Kusaka returned to find Ryoma sitting in his living room, near a glowing brazier, sipping hot sake.
"Welcome," the Choshu man said with a bow. "I've heard a lot about you from Zuizan-sensei."
Ryoma did not bother to stand up. "Cold outside, isn't it," he said. Ryoma's nonchalance confused Kusaka. Was not this the former head of the Chiba Dojo, the man who had once defeated Katsura Kogoro in a fencing match, and the right-hand man of Master Zuizan? Ryoma grinned, and produced a folded document from the breast of his kimono. "I've brought a letter to you from Takechi Hanpeita," he said.
Kusaka sat down and read the letter, in which Hanpeita had explained his loss of hope of convincing the Tosa regent to unite Tosa behind Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism. Kusaka threw the letter down in disgust. "We are having similar difficulties in Choshu," he began feverishly. "There is a filthy traitor among us by the name of Nagai Uta, who has wriggled his way into power and tricked our daimyo into supporting the drive for a Union of Court and Camp." Unlike his colleague Katsura Kogoro, Kusaka was unaware of the Ando assassination planned for the following day in Edo. Had he known of the plot, he may have been more hopeful about achieving the goals he and the other Choshu Loyalists had been striving for since the previous summer. "If Choshu continues on its present course," Kusaka said bitterly, a fiery look in his eyes, "before we know it, our han will become another Tokugawa lackey. The Satsuma men are also having problems convincing their daimyo to support us. Lord Hisamitsu, who is the father of the Satsuma daimyo, has taken control of the Satsuma government. He has apparently been successful at suppressing the Satsuma Loyalists. Our original plan for a triple alliance between Tosa, Satsuma and Choshu no longer seems feasible." Kusaka's eyes flashed into Ryoma's, as he added: "Please tell Zuizan-sensei that I don't think his plan has a chance."
The plan to which Kusaka referred was Hanpeita's scheme to unite the three powerful southwestern fiefdoms of Tosa, Satsuma and Choshu, march with their combined armies into Kyoto, where they would embrace the Emperor. The Loyalist forces would then topple the Edo regime and set up a new Imperial government in the ancient capital.
"The scoundrel Nagai is ruining Choshu," Kusaka said. "He has steered Choshu policy toward supporting the Bakufu."
"There is a similar situation in Tosa, with Regent Yoshida Toyo," Ryoma said. "But I don't care anymore."
"You don't care?" Kusaka repeated in disbelief. "What do you mean?" I've given up on Tosa. Men of High Purpose throughout Japan are going 0 have to join forces if we are to overthrow the Bakufu and save the nation from foreign invasion," Ryoma said, pounding his fist on the floor. "We can't rely on the court nobles or the feudal lords. We have nothing but our own brains, blood and guts."
Kusaka's eyes opened wide as he leaned forward. "You speak my thoughts," he said, clapping his hands loudly. Then, in a whisper, "I should cut Nagai."
It was Nagai's intention to save the ailing Bakufu by keeping Japan open to foreign trade, and in so doing import Western technology and culture. In this way he hoped to build modern ships by which to strengthen the nation militarily and expand Japan's economy. Nagai reasoned that this was the only way to avoid the catastrophe of foreign subjugation which had brought China and India to their knees.
Nagai's ideas did not greatly differ from those secretly harbored by Sakamoto Ryoma, as he sat drinking sake with the xenophobic Choshu extremist. In fact, Ryoma differed with Nagai on only one basic point: Ryoma was staunchly anti-Tokugawa. He felt that the Bakufu itself represented the greatest obstacle to the democratization of Japan. He desired nothing less than to topple the 250-year-old hegemony, create a modern navy to reach out beyond the shores of the island nation to the rest of the world, and in so doing, steer Japan into the modern age of which Kawada Shoryo had
often spoken.
"We must rid our sacred land of the foreign stench," Kusaka said, "and to do so, we must destroy the Bakufu." Like Takechi Hanpeita, Kusaka was chronic in his hatred of things Western, which personified evil in the minds of the Imperial Loyalists. But unlike Hanpeita, whose Imperial fanaticism was religious, Kusaka's ideas were based on logic: unless Japan could expel the foreigners, it would surely suffer a fate similar to China and India.
Ryoma, however, knew in his heart of hearts that exclusionism was no longer possible. This is not to say that he had abandoned his anti-foreign sentiments, but rather, he had taken a giant leap forward, beyond his comrades. Ryoma's vision did not stop at simply overthrowing the Bakufu; he desired more than anything the abolishment of the entire feudal system which maintained the existence of hundreds of individual han. He was aware of the necessity of uniting Japan into one nation, with a centralized government in Kyoto which would represent all of the han. His views of the Emperor possessed nothing of the religious fervor of Hanpeita and other xenophobic Loyalists. To Ryoma, the Imperial Court was no more than a means to an end to be utilized for the good of the nation, for the benefit of the Japanese
people. For the time being, however, he wisely chose to keep these views to himself.
Ryoma spent the night at an inn in the castletown. Early the next morning a young samurai came to escort the celebrated Tosa swordsman to the official martial arts training hall of Choshu. "Sakamoto-sensei, we've all been waiting to see a demonstration of your excellent swordsmanship," Kusaka's messenger said. Ryoma's reputation was still that of the distinguished former head of the Chiba Dojo. There was not a swordsman in all of Hagi Castletown who was not aware that Ryoma had defeated the esteemed Katsura Kogoro in a fencing match several years before.
When Ryoma arrived at the training hall, Kusaka was waiting for him with a group of some forty anxious young men, all sitting on the polished wooden floor. Rather than being flattered by the respect that the Choshu men showed for his swordsmanship, Ryoma was inwardly annoyed. He had not come to Choshu as a mere swordsman, but as the messenger of the leader of the Tosa Loyalist Party. Moreover, he had already made up his mind to abandon Tosa, and was dedicated to nothing less than saving the entire Japanese nation. "Kusaka-san, I'm afraid you expect too much," he said, scratching the back of his neck with his left hand, his right hand tucked into his kimono. Several bundles of straw, each about three feet high, had been lined up along one side of the training hall. Much to Ryoma's chagrin, he was invited to display his technique by cutting through a bundle of straw.
"I'll go first," shouted one of the younger Choshu men, who jumped up and walked over to one of the bundles. The younger man drew his sword and proceeded to hack through the bundle of straw, butchering it in the process. Another young man jumped up, drew his sword and sliced another bundle in half, though his blade left a gash on the wooden floor. A third man cut through another bundle, but in his lack of control sliced open his own foot.
While Ryoma had indeed become a Man of High Purpose in his own right, he was nevertheless an expert swordsman. Unable to stand by and watch these younger men perform their low-level techniques, he calmly walked up to one of the straw bundles and called the attention of all present. "This is how you cut an inanimate object," he announced. The next instant Ryoma drew his sword with his right hand, and with a silver-blue flash, returned the blade to its scabbard before the severed bundle of straw fell to the floor.
The entire hall was silent. "Sakamoto-sensei," Kusaka broke the quiet, "would you please do us the honor of sparring with a few of our men?"
Unable to refuse, and much to his own dismay, Ryoma again found himself yielding to the wishes of his host. Ryoma's first opponent was a boy of no more than sixteen, who charged the celebrated swordsman, and to his own surprise, not to mention the astonishment of all present, scored an easy "kill." With the two following matches ending much the same way, Ryoma's final opponent took it upon himself to complain. "Sakamoto-sensei, please don't make fun of us. You must fight seriously."
Ryoma laughed, tossed his bamboo sword across the room, and raised his hands above his head. "I lost because I'm weak," he declared indifferently. It was at this moment that Kusaka recognized Ryoma as not just another expert swordsman, but a Man of High Purpose of a truly unique character.
On the night before Ryoma was to leave Hagi Castletown, Kusaka delivered a letter to him. "This is for Zuizan-sensei," he said. "But I'd like you to read it."
"Ultimately" Kusaka's letter began, "it isn't enough for us to rely on our lords, and it isn't enough for us to rely on the court nobles. It is our opinion that we have no alternative but to assemble our rank and file and rise up in a righteous revolt. Forgive me for saying this, but even if your han and our han should be destroyed, it would not matter so long as our cause is just.'" Profane words! Throughout the past two and a half centuries the idea of a samurai allowing his han to perish was blasphemy, but Sakamoto Ryoma cherished the thought.
"Kusaka-san," Ryoma said, grabbing the Choshu man firmly by the wrist, "we must abandon our han and fight for Japan. The Japanese nation is the only thing worth fighting for." A single teardrop trickled down the twisted face of the Dragon, who was now more determined than ever to achieve his goal.
* * *
From Hagi Ryoma traveled east to Osaka, where he came across a particularly interesting piece of information which would not only have a profound effect on his own life, but also on the history of Japan. Word had it that Shimazu Hisamitsu, the father of the Satsuma daimyo and de facto lord of the second largest fiefdom in Japan, was planning to lead an army of over 1,000 troops into Kyoto to embrace the Emperor in an unprecedented display of military strength in order to "correct the Bakufu's renegade policies" concerning foreign demands. As Choshu and Satsuma had long been bitter rivals, however, the Choshu Loyalists were suspicious of Lord Hisamitsu's I true intentions. Never before in two-and-a-half centuries of Tokugawa rule had a daimyo escorted an army into the Imperial capital. Satsuma, Choshu suspected, planned to embrace the Emperor at the exclusion of the rest of the feudal domains, and set up an Imperial government by which the Lord of Satsuma would become the Shogun of a new "Satsuma Bakufu" in Kyoto.
Upon returning to Kochi in late February, Ryoma reported directly to the home of Takechi Hanpeita.
"Ryoma!' Hanpeita exclaimed, standing up from his desk to greet him.
"I've brought you a letter from Kusaka Genzui. You should forget about your plans for an alliance. As Kusaka has written, the Choshu Loyalists have given up hope in their han. The conservative Bakufu sympathizers in Hagi have gotten a firm hold on the government, and the Loyalists can't do a thing in Choshu. Kusaka himself has told me that he is going to flee Choshu, and bring the fight for the national cause to Kyoto. Forget about this rotten han, Hanpeita. If we hope to ever accomplish anything, we must leave Tosa and join forces with other Men of High Purpose throughout Japan." Ryoma slammed his fist on Hanpeita's desk, as a cold draft penetrated the thin walls of the house. Ryoma collected his thoughts, then relayed to the Shield of the Emperor the report of the impending coup d'etat in Kyoto.
Hanpeita read Kusaka's letter, went to the opposite side of the room, and picked up his long sword from a wooden rack in the alcove. Drawing the blade, he solemnly proclaimed, "I am left with no choice but to cut him down."
"Cut who down?" Ryoma started.
"The regent. Time is running out, as Kusaka has indicated in his letter. We must eliminate Yoshida Toyo soon if we are to unite Tosa behind Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism. Once that is accomplished, the Men of High Purpose in Choshu will realize that if we can succeed, so can they. But timing is of the essence. We must remain levelheaded and plan things carefully before we act."
"Hanpeita," Ryoma shouted, again slamming his fist on the desk. "You use the term Men of High Purpose too lightly. Don't you realize that we Men of High Purpose must band together on our own if we are to save the nation? Forget about Tosa, and give up your stubborn ideas about this rotten han. They're futile. Like I've told you before, even if you kill the regent, you're not going to be able to do a thing unless you're willing to cut down Lord Yodo as well. Because you know as well as I do that Yamanouchi Yodo will never take up arms against the Tokugawa."
"Ryoma, it's an outrage to talk of Lord Yodo disrespectfully," Hanpeita reprimanded, slamming his sword blade back into the scabbard.
"There are some things that we just can't agree on," Ryoma groaned. "Don't tell me that you actually care about the daimyo, because I don't think there is a lower-samurai in all of Tosa who considers him with any more reverence than they do a freshly laid fart."
"Ryoma," Hanpeita roared, "that's enough disrespect. Now, are you with me or against me?"
"If you're willing to cut down the daimyo first, I'll kill Toyo myself. Otherwise, forget it. I just can't condone killing a man for no reason at all. And if you cut down the regent without killing Lord Yodo, it will be meaningless bloodshed."
"Ryoma," Hanpeita roared again, "I'm not asking you to cut anyone. I already have my pawns carefully chosen," he said through steely eyes. "Now, I must know: are you with me or against me?"
"Hanpeita, I can't believe what you're saying. Not only are you planning to kill a man, but you're going to use your own men as pawns in the bloody business. I'm with you, Hanpeita, but I won't have anything to do with killing Toyo."
"Then you're against me," Hanpeita concluded bitterly.
"No, I'm not against you, Hanpeita. But I've decided to leave Tosa," Ryoma suddenly disclosed his long-kept secret.
"Leave? But you just returned."
"I mean I've decided to flee Tosa. I won't return until things have changed," Ryoma declared, then after a short pause, "if I ever return at all. Things are starting to take shape, Hanpeita. They say that Satsuma is beginning to move. If we don't start now, it will be too late. How can you insist on wasting your time in Tosa? There is absolutely nothing you can do here. The action is in Kyoto and Edo, and that's where we belong."
'Then that's all the more reason for us to get organized," Hanpeita insisted, stroking his long chin. "We can't let the Satsuma men get the edge on us. We Tosa men must work quickly if we are to play a leading role in the drama that is unfolding before us."
"Forget about Tosa," Ryoma hollered indignantly. "The Yamanouchi are different from the Mori and the Shimazu. The Yamanouchi will never agree to oppose the Tokugawa."
"What will you do after you leave Tosa?" Hanpeita asked. "Even if you go to Kyoto, what will you do there? When will you realize that working together as one great han is the only way to produce positive results? What are you going to do as a ronin, an outlaw, a fugitive? Even if you are able to organize an army of five hundred ronin, what could you do? But if we had a whole han dedicated to overthrowing the Bakufu, then things would start to materialize. Think about it. We must not act rashly. We must plan everything out, step by step. That's the only way." Unlike the fiery Kusaka, Hanpeita's idea of revolution was based on calm, deliberate action, free of dangerous risk which might result in sudden downfall.
"Like Kusaka says," Ryoma hollered in exasperation, "we have to get' started before the battle starts. We have to get ready, and Tosa is just not the place to do it. The lower-samurai can't do a thing in this rotten han. We have to go to Kyoto if we are to be of any use at all."
"That's where you're wrong, Ryoma. I've been talking to a few of the most powerful men in Tosa, men who are bitterly opposed to the regent. I've gotten their support. Once Toyo is eliminated, we'll have a direct hand in the government, if not officially then actually"
Shortly after resuming power as regent, Yoshida Toyo forced into retirement the conservatives who had thus far been in charge of Tosa affairs replacing them with his own progressive band of young disciples. Needles to say, the fallen old guard despised the ruthless regent; in order to eliminate him they were even willing to cooperate with Hanpeita's illegal Loyalist Party, made up almost entirely of lower-samurai.
"Hanpeita," Ryoma said angrily, "how could you even consider joining forces with the upper-samurai?"
"It's just a means to an end," Hanpeita said coolly, then asked, "When will you leave?"
"Soon."
"Then you won't at least stay long enough to help us cut Toyo?"
"Hanpeita," Ryoma groaned, "there's just no getting through to you. You're just as rigid as ever, and I guess you'll never change."
"One way or another," Hanpeita said, "I swear to you I will succeed in uniting Tosa under the banner of Imperial Loyalism. But to do so, I nr eliminate Yoshida Toyo."
Part II
Flight of the Dragon
The Clean Emptiness of Freedom
After seeing with his own eyes the situation in Choshu, after hearing with his own ears the report of an impending coup d'etat in Kyoto, after feeling with his own heart repugnance for Hanpeita's cold-blooded plans, and after the long years of waiting to act, the Dragon finally decided the only choice left him was to flee the confines of Tosa for the wide open arena of Japan, and join other Men of High Purpose in the struggle to overthrow the Bakufu. More than loyalty to family and friends, more than dedication to kenjutsu practice, and more than his blood oath to the Tosa Loyalist Party, the destruction of the Bakufu had taken absolute precedence in the mind of the twenty-six-year-old samurai. Though his friends and family may consider his actions drastic, Ryoma reasoned abandoning Tosa was the only course he could take in his struggle to save the nation.
A few weeks later Ryoma received a message from a fellow Tosa Loyalist by the name of Sawamura Sonojo. Nine year's Ryoma's junior, Sonojo had already fled Tosa, but had returned undercover to report to Hanpeita of the " impending coup d'etat in Kyoto. In his short note, Sonojo informed Ryoma that the plans were set for hundreds of Loyalists who had recently fled their respective han to await the Satsuma daimyo at Osaka, and join his army on its march into Kyoto. Here they would embrace the Emperor, and, by so doing, gain the support of han throughout Japan to topple the Edo regime. Sonojo concluded his message by indicating that he would wait for Ryoma on the following night under the cover of darkness at Asakura Village, outside the castletown. From here the two could flee Tosa together, to join their comrades in the impending coup in Kyoto.
"I'm going to flee Tosa," Ryoma suddenly informed his elder brother, Gombei, who was sitting in his study. Gombei had become head of the Sakamoto household upon the death of their father, several years before.
"Are you crazy, Ryoma?" Gombei hollered, lunging forward.
"I didn't expect you to be happy about it, but it's the only thing I can do. I have to flee Tosa for the sake of nation."
"The nation!" Gombei screamed. "What about your own family? Are you willing to sacrifice us with your irresponsible behavior?"
"No, but..."
"But what, damn it?" Gombei indignantly scolded. "If you flee Tosa, not only will your immediate family suffer, but the rest of your relatives may very well have a hard time of it as well. You know that our sister Otome's, husband is stationed in Edo as the private physician to the retired daimyo. If you become a ronin, he'll lose his position sooner than you can piss. And worse than that, he'll most likely be put under house arrest. What would Otome do then? Have you even thought about that?"
"No, " Ryoma despondently admitted, as he looked down at his own large feet and shook his head silently.
"Damn it, Ryoma! I won't let you do it," Gombei screamed, before storming out of the room. He raced up the ladder staircase which led to Ryoma's room, where he confiscated both of Ryoma's swords, and left the house with them. Gombei knew that Ryoma would not leave Tosa without his swords.
But Ryoma was determined, and left immediately for Otome's house, in the mountains west of the castletown. "I've come to talk to you," he exclaimed, as he rushed into his sister's house.
"What's happened?" asked Otome, startled.
"I've tried to talk to our brother, but it's useless." After divulging his plans to Otome, Ryoma groaned, "I can't get it through our brother's head that the nation is more important than the Sakamoto household. But I thought that you, of all people, would understand."
Ryoma's respect for Otome was boundless. This sister who had raised him like a mother could, in her childhood, out-ride, out-swim and out-wrestle most of the boys in the neighborhood. Her skill with a sword was known throughout the castletown, and in later years she would become proficient with a pistol.
"So, you're really determined," Otome said, nodding in both admiration and envy, as she filled two cups with hot tea.
"I'm determined, or at least I was determined until I heard from our older brother that your husband would probably lose his position and possibly be put under house arrest."
"Ryoma," Otome struggled to hold back tears, taking firm hold of her brother's hands, "let me worry about that. You've decided to do this great thing for the nation, and I envy you for it. I only wish that I could go with you to join in the fight. But since I was born a woman, I can't. But you're a man. If you truly believe that fleeing Tosa is the right thing to do, then you must do it. I support you entirely."
"But it wouldn't be fair to your husband. My own immediate family is one thing, but I just couldn't let someone else take the blame for me."
"Trust me," Otome implored, squeezing Ryoma's hand to hold back tears. "If you don't do this thing, who will? It's a great and noble cause you are fighting for." She paused momentarily to collect her thoughts. "What does Takechi-san have to say about it?"
"Hanpeita is determined to work within the confines of Tosa, and stake everything on the Loyalist Party."
"And you have to get out of the cramped confines of Tosa, right?"
"You know me better than anyone," Ryoma said, laughing to hide his tears.
I only ask that you write me once in a while. I'll want to know how you're doing, and what is happening in your life." "But, I don't think I can do it," Ryoma said glumly. "You can't do what?"
I can't let your husband be punished for me."
Ryoma," Otome looked straight into her brother's eyes, "you don't have to worry about that, because by the time word gets out that you've gone, I won't be living in this house anymore. I'm leaving my husband soon, and returning to our home in the castletown. Once I'm gone, my husband will have nothing to do with it. If this is the least I can do for our nation, then as a samurai woman this is what I must do."
"You can't leave your husband," Ryoma insisted.
As a samurai woman Otome's pride was insurmountable. As a samurai woman she had always resented being married to a man who took no interest in the martial arts. Nor did it help matters that at five feet and nine inches tall, Otome towered over her husband.
"Ryoma," Otome said gently, releasing her grip on her brother's hands, "I've been planning to leave him anyway. And you've given me a reason to do it right away."
"Why?"
"You know me better than anyone, right."
Ryoma nodded silently, staring hard into his sister's eyes.
"Well, then, you know that there is no way I can bear living with a man who can't keep his hands off of other women."
Rid of his guilt concerning his brother-in-law, Ryoma said good-bye to Otome and returned home before nightfall. Although he had made up his mind to meet Sawamura Sonojo on the following night, not only was Ryoma , without money, but the expert swordsman was swordless. As an outlaw, Ryoma could not travel without funds, much less a sword, which he may very well need for protection.
Ryoma supposed that he might be able to get a sword from his relatives, the proprietors of the Saitani enterprise. Established as a sake brewer in Kochi Castletown in the mid-seventeenth century, the Saitani also dealt in pawnbroking and money exchange. They had amassed a fortune by the time the seventh generational family head purchased samurai status in 1770, left the family business to a younger brother, assumed the surname Sakamoto and moved to the house next door where Ryoma would be born three generations later. As Ryoma had grown up with the Saitani, he knew that there were a number of swords stored in the warehouse of their pawnbroking business. But when he visited his relatives on the next morning he was disappointed to find that Gombei had already been there the night before. Gombei had brought Ryoma's swords to his relatives' home, and asked that they keep them under lock and key.
"Under no circumstances are you to let Ryoma into the warehouse, give him a sword or lend him money," Gombei had instructed the head of the merchant household who had always treated Ryoma like a son. "He's just told me that he plans to flee Tosa. But without a sword or money, Ryoma isn't going anywhere," Gombei said, trying to ease his mind with forced laughter.
Distressed, distraught and bordering on anger, Ryoma discovered that his relatives next door were not about to become accomplices to his crime. The afternoon had turned into evening, and Ryoma was still without sword or money as he lay in his room, half asleep, watching the sunset through the window and wondering how he would be able to meet Sonojo that same night, when he suddenly heard the sound of light footsteps.
"Ryoma, it's me, Ei," his sister whispered, gently sliding open the door.
In his sullen mood, Ryoma could not help wondering why this sister with whom he rarely spoke would choose this particular moment to visit him. Ei, older than Otome and younger than their eldest sister Chizu, had recently returned to the Sakamoto household after divorcing her husband. Although she had never been close with Ryoma, she had sensed that something was amiss between her two brothers. Inquiring with her relatives next door, she heard about Ryoma's dangerous, but, in her mind, noble intentions. As her relatives informed her of every detail of Ryoma's plan, she was aware that he was without a sword.
"Ah, hello," Ryoma feigned pleasant surprise. "I was just taking a nap," he said with one eye open.
"I've heard about your plan to flee Tosa," Ei whispered, gently closing the sliding screen door behind her.
"You have?" Ryoma said despondently.
"Yes, and I'm proud of you. But, Ryoma," Ei knelt on the floor next to her brother, "are you sure this is what you want to do? Do you know that you can never come home once you flee?"
Sitting upright, Ryoma answered with a dispirited nod.
"And you're prepared to possibly die alone, without family or friends, or even a proper burial?"
Yes," Ryoma said, looking into his sister's eyes. "A man must be willing to sacrifice himself for his beliefs."
"In that case," Ei gently took her brother's hand, "I have a gift for you," she said, then left Ryoma alone and wondering.
Soon Ei returned to Ryoma's room, which was now dim in the evening dusk. "This is for you, my brother. I hope it serves you well, and may you in turn serve yourself and the nation well by it." She knelt next to Ryoma, holding a sword in her hands.
Ryoma accepted the gift, firmly grasped the hilt and slowly drew the polished steel blade from the sheath. The heavy blade glistened blue in the dim light, its edge sharp as a razor's. Two feet and two inches long, it was slightly short for a man of Ryoma's size, who could easily have handled a blade two or three inches longer.
"What a sword," Ryoma exclaimed under his breath, "the length is good," he added, slashing the air in front of him. Ryoma felt more comfortable with a shorter blade for reasons of facility.
"The blade was forged by the master sword smith Yoshiyuki," Ei said with
an undertone of subtle, but nevertheless absolutely real, heartrending sadness.
'How did you get a hold of an authentic Yoshiyuki?" Ryoma asked. My ex-husband gave it to me as a memento of our marriage," Ei said with downcast eyes.
"Are you sure you want me to have it? It must be very important to you."
"It's much more valuable to you. If this sword can be of use to you and the nation, then I feel that there will be meaning to my life."
"I'm honored to have it," Ryoma said, firmly grabbing his sister by the shoulders. A cold draft blew through the second-story window, and a telltale chill pierced Ryoma's body, as if an omen of lurking tragedy in the heart of one distressed soul.
Wasting no time, Ryoma bid farewell to his sister, quietly descended the ladder staircase, and with his prize sword thrust securely through his sash, he calmly walked out of the front door of his brother's house, prepared never to return. He ran to the home of a relative on the outskirts of the Castletown, where he borrowed ten gold coins, then hurried through the darkness to Asakura Village to meet his comrade Sawamura Sonojo.
Had Ryoma been aware of the impending tragedy at his brother's house, he would undoubtedly have denied himself the ecstasy of flight. It wasn't until the following morning that Gombei found Ei dead in her room. She had taken her own life to atone for her crime of aiding Ryoma in his flight. In so doing the unhappy woman had correctly reasoned that the rest of her family would be pardoned for the felony, while at the same time she took bitter pleasure in the knowledge of her small contribution in the struggle to save the nation.
Of Murder and Fratricide
The Dragon had fled, and the intense ecstasy he derived from the clean emptiness of freedom was worth the dread and the danger. Although he had not yet formulated a concrete plan of action, abandoning Tosa was Ryoma s giant leap across the border which had separated him from freedom. The young samurai had chosen to throw himself into a cauldron of political and social chaos, heated by the myriad raging hostility lurking in the dark to slay the Dragon on his wonderful quest for freedom. Freedom was what Ryoma had longed for, and it was for freedom that he had sacrificed both country and home. The freedom to act, the freedom to think, the freedom to be: these were the ideals that drove him on the thorny road toward salvation, the salvation of Japan.
Okada Izo stormed into Takechi Hanpeita's house one afternoon in late March. At age twenty-four, Izo was one of the most skilled swordsmen at the Zuizan Dojo. He had studied with Hanpeita at the Momonoi Dojo in Edo, where, like his master, he had also achieved senior ranking. Despite his lack of education, Izo's fencing skills were such that Hanpeita had included him on his recent fencing tour through southwestern Japan. Izo, a lower-samurai from the northern outskirts of the castletown, wore a thick black beard which intensified his wild nature.
Hanpeita was now actively plotting the assassination of Yoshida Toyo. "Timing is of the essence," had become his motto, and Heaven's Revenge, his battle cry. When Izo arrived, Hanpeita was talking with Nasu Shingo, a student at the Zuizan Dojo and dedicated Tosa Loyalist whom he had chosen to lead a three-man assassination squad. Shingo was the model warrior. At age thirty, he had a muscular, solid build, fierce black eyes, lean face and heavy jawbone. He had a swarthy complexion, and wore his long hair tied in a topknot.
"Sensei," Izo shouted excitedly, "have you heard?"
"Calm down, Izo!" Hanpeita scolded.
"But Ryoma's fled," Izo said. "He's actually done it."
"I know," Hanpeita lied, feigning calmness. "Tosa is no longer big enough for Ryoma." Although Hanpeita was not surprised by the news, he could not help but feel betrayed. "I have faith in Ryoma," Hanpeita said. "He will
never commit an act which will shame the name of the Dragon."
Izo and Shingo looked blankly at Hanpeita, whose rhetoric confused them.
"Shingo, we must act soon," Hanpeita said.
"I'm ready to cut Toyo tonight," Shingo said, his eyes open wide.
"If you're going to kill him, I want a hand in it," said Izo.
"Izo, have you ever cut a man before?" Hanpeita asked scathingly. "No."
"Then how do you know you'd be able to cut Toyo?" 'Trust me, Sensei," Izo declared with an eeriness that was matched by the coldness in Hanpeita's dark eyes.
"Your time will come," Hanpeita assured. "Be patient, and I'll have you inflicting Heaven s Revenge on all of our enemies."
"Heaven's Revenge?" Izo repeated the phrase. "What do you mean?"
"Heaven's Revenge" Hanpeita said, "on all those who stand in the way of our divine cause to restore the rule of the Sacred Empire to the Emperor."
"Heaven's Revenge," Izo muttered. "I like the sound."
Hanpeita continued: "Not yet, Izo. Shingo is going to cut Toyo. I don't want you to participate just yet. But your time will come very soon. If all goes as planned, you'll have your chance to inflict Heaven's Revenge in the very near future."
* * *
A heavy rain fell on the night of April 8, as Nasu Shingo and two others hid in the bushes along the road leading to Kochi Castle. Yoshida Toyo, who had been at the castle giving a lecture on Japanese history to the young daimyo, exited through the main gate of the fortress and crossed the drawbridge of the surrounding moat. A lantern-bearer walked before him, a young samurai attendant followed close behind. The hour was late, and Toyo had been drinking. He held a cream-colored umbrella to shield himself from the pouring rain, which had just extinguished the lantern in front of him, when he suddenly found himself surrounded by three sword-wielding samurai and an eternal darkness.
"Heaven's Revenge" Shingo screamed. "This, Toyo, is for your crimes against Tosa." Hanpeita's hit man emitted a bloodcurdling wail, and brought his blade slashing down.
Toyo, himself an accomplished swordsman, deflected the attack with the bamboo shaft of his umbrella, and being only slightly grazed on the left arm, immediately drew his sword. As Shingo and Toyo fought furiously, the other two assailants, who had made short work of the two attendants, returned to help Shingo deliver the deathblow to the regent.
"Scoundrels!" roared Toyo, as one of his assassins attacked from the rear, slicing open his upper body. Toyo fell, and the pelting rain mixed with the regent's warm blood, producing a watery red which covered the ground around him. By Toyo's side lay a crippled umbrella, the creamy-white paper now streaked with mud and covered with a spray of crimson. As Toyo lay dying in the red, wet darkness, Shingo lifted his sword high in the air, brought it crashing down toward the regent's head. At that instant, Toyo gasped and instinctively jerked his head in a spasmodic gesture to avoid the inevitable. Shingo missed his target, and instead struck Toyo on the jaw. Blood sprayed from the dying man's face before Shingo delivered the deathblow, completely severing the head from the mangled body.
With Yoshida Toyo eliminated, Takechi Hanpeita seemed to have finally achieved success in his long-planned coup in Tosa. Shortly after the assassination, all of Toyo's disciples were dismissed from their administrative posts, and replaced with the conservative old guard who had resented the progressive regent's having forced them from office. None of these upper-samurai were unhappy about the murder of their rival, and most were secretly elated. Among them were two powerful Loyalist sympathizers, over whom Hanpeita had come to wield great influence. When these two men were appointed Great Inspectors of Tosa Han, positions which put them in charge of the police force, Master Zuizan's will, though masked it remained, found its way deep into the nerve center of the Tosa government.
Hanpeita delighted in his success at gaining control of the reins of power. Despite his low social status, by manipulating the two Great Inspectors the Loyalist leader believed himself to be in a position to steer Tosa policy on a rapid course toward Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism, without interference from Toyo's ousted faction. But as the shrewd Loyalist leader congratulated himself on a job well done, the retired daimyo was raging in his Edo villa, where he had been under house confinement for the past three years. Yamanouchi Yodo, likened to a tiger by even the most powerful of feudal lords, was not about to sit back passively while a band of lower-samurai renegades assumed control of his own domain.
* * *
Loyalists throughout western Japan, stirred by the report that the father of the Satsuma daimyo would declare war on the Bakufu, had gathered in and around the Imperial capital. Here they awaited the Satsuma Army, with whom they would join forces to overthrow the Bakufu and restore the Emperor to power. Ryoma, however, no longer thought it feasible that a group of ronin would be able to challenge the Bakufu. Nor did he believe that the Satsuma leadership would play into the hands of emotionally-driven radicals, seething for their first opportunity to strike out at the Tokugawa.
Indeed, Satsuma's ultimate goals were similar to those of the Choshu and Tosa conservatives. Rather than plotting to overthrow the Bakufu, the crafty Lord Hisamitsu, who as father of the young daimyo was the most powerful man in the second largest feudal domain in Japan, intended simply to enhance his own political standing in national affairs with a display of military power "to correct the renegade policies of the Edo regime," thus assuming the role of great mediator between court and camp.
Meanwhile, the hordes of rebel ronin who had been waiting for the arrival of the Satsuma host had no intention of "correcting the Bakufu." These xenophobic extremists, led by prominent Satsuma and Choshu Loyalists, were out for nothing short of Tokugawa blood. They were burning inside with the desire to topple the "traitorous Bakufu which had shamelessly yielded to the barbarians' demands."
Ryoma, however, had an uncanny sense of timing which enabled him to view things from a much wider perspective than most of his comrades. He reasoned that the time for full-fledged revolution had not yet come. The Bakufu had ruled the land for two and a half centuries, and as of yet not one of the 266 daimyo dared to even dream of toppling the powerful military government. In fact, about ninety percent of the feudal lords, concerned solely with the welfare of their own clans, were not even aware that revolutionary activities were taking place. Not even the Lords of Choshu, Satsuma and Tosa, from which three han the champions of Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism had emerged, harbored intentions of overthrowing the Tokugawa. Ryoma, however, did. As a means of revolution, he would develop a modern navy, by which he would topple the Tokugawa and fortify Japan against the Western threat. It was for this goal, and this goal alone, that he had fled his native Tosa.
Shortly after fleeing Ryoma began to doubt the wisdom of his original plan to participate in the Loyalists' uprising in Kyoto. His insight was proven correct by a tragedy which was meanwhile unfolding just outside the Imperial capital.
The radical Loyalists in Kyoto abandoned hope in Satsuma when they realized that Lord Hisamitsu's actual intentions amounted to nothing more than a renewed version of the detested policy of a Union of Court and Camp. Among them were twenty Loyalists from Satsuma itself, who were now determined to achieve their goal with or without their lord's support. On April 23, they quit their barracks at Satsuma headquarters in Osaka, packed four small riverboats with guns and ammunition, and traveled up the river northeast to their meeting place just south of Kyoto, the Teradaya inn in
Fushimi. Waiting for the Satsuma men to arrive were ten renegade samurai of other clans, who had come to the Teradaya to make the final arrangements for their plans to march into Kyoto, invade the Imperial Palace and assassinate Bakufu supporters who had "infested the court."
Upon reaching his official residence in Kyoto, the de facto leader of Satsuma heard that a group of his own samurai planned to take part in the uprising. "Go get them!" Lord Hisamitsu ordered one of his most trusted vassals on the eve of the planned attack. "I don't care about the damned ronin who are with them, but I want you to tell all Satsuma men to report here immediately."
"What if they refuse?" asked the samurai.
"Then cut them down on the spot," Lord Hisamitsu roared indignantly. Not to be deceived by his own vassals, he sent nine expert swordsmen who were not only intimate with the rebels, but were themselves devout Loyalists. This was the only possible way, he reasoned, to convince them to abandon their plan, and return to Satsuma headquarters immediately. Hisamitsu, however, was also well aware that the rebels were steadfast in their decision to carry out what they considered "the highest of all duties for the Imperial cause." In short, the Lord of Satsuma knew that since the rebels would not abandon or put off their plans, his vigilantes would be left with no choice but to draw their swords on their comrades. And to make things worse, the commander; of the vigilantes, a man by the name of Narahara, was on particularly intimate terms with the leader of the Satsuma rebels, whose name was Arima.
Narahara's vigilantes reached the Teradaya at around midnight. As they approached the inn, Arima's rebels were busy in a second-story room preparing their guns and ammunition for the impending pre-dawn attack. Both rebels and vigilantes shared the same Loyalist ideals, and all of them were prepared to die to achieve them. Nor was this all that Narahara's men were ready to die for, as they prepared for their own deaths before five of them entered the Teradaya, the remaining four waiting anxiously outside.
"I believe there is a Satsuma samurai named Arima upstairs," Narahara said to the innkeeper at the entranceway. "Tell them Narahara is..."
Before he could finish speaking, his friend and foe, Arima, followed by three other Satsuma samurai, came running down the dark wooden staircase from the second floor. "Narahara! What are you doing here? Leave us alone!"
Narahara dropped to his knees at the base of the stairway, and pleaded with his comrade to surrender. "Arima, you must listen to me," he cried. "It's an order from Lord Hisamitsu. Come with us to Satsuma headquarters in Kyoto. Please, Arima, I beg you."
"Narahara," Arima roared defiance, "we've come this far. As I am a samurai I cannot go back on my vow, regardless of our lord's orders. You know that as well as anyone."
"Even if we have orders to kill you if you don't come with us?" Narahara asked pleadingly.
"It makes no difference."
It was at this instant that Narahara knew that he must cut down his friend, or else die. Although there was not a trace of animosity in his heart for this brave warrior, as a Satsuma samurai, and so as a man, Narahara had to obey the orders of his lord. This is not to say that Narahara was not every bit as dedicated to Imperial Loyalism as was Arima. In fact, he had even taken his dedication one step further: he was prepared to die at the Teradaya rather than kill his comrades.
But the young samurai standing to his immediate right had grown impatient with deliberation. Daimyo orders were daimyo orders, he reasoned, and he unlatched the sheath of his sword. "Arima," he hollered, his eyes flashing, "do you absolutely refuse to listen?" "Impudence!" roared one of Arima's men.
As Narahara and Arima stared coldly at one another, the younger man drew his sword. "Daimyo orders," he screamed, as lantern light glistened blue off polished steel, and blood sprayed from the neck of the first victim of the "Fratricide at the Teradaya."
Next, another rebel by the name of Shibayama took predictably unpredictable countermeasures. Unwilling to abandon his resolution to go through with the planned coup at dawn, but equally unable to disobey daimyo orders, Shibayama made up his mind to become the next victim of the massacre, "lacing his sword directly in front of him, he sat down in the formal position on the polished wooden floor. "Kill me," he hollered, his head slightly bowed forward, both hands placed firmly on the floor.
"Shibayama, prepare yourself for Heaven," screamed one of the vigilantes, drawing his sword. The screech of cold steel slicing through human bone filled the room, but Arima still made no effort to call upstairs for help. Shibayama's right shoulder had been sliced open down to the chest, but he stubbornly remained in the formal sitting position, as his assailant, in a gesture filled with mercy and wrath, raised his sword high, and with one clean stroke, severed the head from the body.
Thirty seconds after the fighting had begun, Arima drew his sword, and brought the blade crashing down toward the head of one of his assailants. The vigilante, holding his weapon with both hands, blocked Arima's attack just above the left temple, as sparks flashed off the clashing blades. "Arima, prepare to die," he wailed, following with a vertical counterattack. Arima blocked the attack just above his head, but in the process his sword was severed at the hilt. Perceiving inevitable death, the Loyalist leader threw his broken weapon to the floor, and like a raging bull charged his comrade, pinning him against the wall with the brute force of his own body.
Narahara stared in horror as Arima held the Satsuma samurai flush against the wall, and three more rebels came racing downstairs. "Hashiguchi!" Arima called the name of one of them. Hashiguchi stood frozen at the base of the stairs, unable to draw his sword on a samurai from his own han. "Drive your sword through us," Arima ordered. "Hurry, Hashiguchi. Drive your sword through us."
"Forgive me!" Hashiguchi cried, drawing his sword. Then, filled with bitter resolution, he thrust his weapon through Arima's back, impaling both his leader and the other man against the wall.
Narahara and the three other vigilantes cut their way through the three: rebels at the base of the stairway, slaying these comrades and regretting they had ever been born. Narahara, beside himself now with sorrow, threw down both of his swords, and ran upstairs. "This is Narahara here," he screamed, through hot tears. "Most of us are Satsuma samurai, and all of us are Men of High Purpose. Now listen to what I say," he pleaded. "Lord Hisamitsu; understands how all of you feel. But please, you must listen to me. The daimyo has ordered all of you to Kyoto headquarters."
Although each man on the second floor had drawn his sword, so intense was Narahara's plea, so sincere his eyes, not one of them attacked.
Narahara threw himself down on both knees before the rebels. "Please," he screamed, his head bowed to the floor, "you must obey Lord Hisamitsu's orders. Otherwise, kill me right here and now." As Narahara finished speaking, silence permeated the room, followed by the sound of the resheathing of swords.
This first attempt at a military uprising aimed directly against the Tokugawa Bakufu was crushed before it had begun, but the flame of Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism burning in the hearts of the rebels at the Teradaya inn, and indeed in the very spirits of men throughout Japan, was f not to be extinguished.
* * *
"A complete waste of human life!" Ryoma roared upon hearing the news of the bloodbath at the Teradaya. He was with Sonojo in the town of Shimonoseki, a seaport in western Choshu, from where he had originally intended to travel by sea to Osaka, to join his comrades in Kyoto. "The uprising has been crushed. I'm going to Satsuma."
"Satsuma?" Sonojo gasped. "Are you crazy? The Satsuma men kill men like us."
"I want to see the warships in Kagoshima," Ryoma said. Years ago Kawada Shoryo had told Ryoma of his visit to Kagoshima, the castletown of Satsuma Han. The Tosa scholar had been part of a study expedition to inspect the great reverberatory furnaces used in the manufacture of cannon and other heavy artillery in Kagoshima. Ryoma had recently heard that Satsuma was now constructing Western-style schooners as well. "Will you come with me?" Ryoma asked his friend.
"No, Ryoma. I'm going to Kyoto to see what I can find out at Choshu headquarters there," Sonojo said with downcast eyes.
Ryoma left Shimonoseki on the following day. But when he was refused entry into Satsuma, which was traditionally suspicious of samurai of other clans, he journeyed to Osaka in search of Sonojo, arriving in the city in early June. Three months had passed since he had fled Tosa, and he was nearly destitute. His only possession of value was the sword his sister had given him; so desperate was he for funds that he went to a pawnshop at the center of the city. "How much for this?" he asked, drawing the blade, and startling the timid pawnbroker.
"Ah, well..." the pawnbroker struggled for words.
"It's an authentic Yoshiyuki," Ryoma said.
"Yes, I see," the pawnbroker replied. "I could give you fifty ryo for it."
"Fifty ryo for this?" Ryoma repeated in disbelief, pointing to the silver pommel at the base of the hilt.
"For the whole sword," the pawnbroker laughed nervously.
"The sword's not for sale. Just the pommel. It's pure silver."
"I see. I could give you ten ryo for the pommel alone. It certainly is beautiful," the merchant added as if to appease the samurai.
"How about ten ryo and a piece of cloth?" Ryoma said.
"A piece of cloth?" the pawnbroker gave Ryoma a puzzled look.
"You heard me. A piece of cloth. Do you have one?"
"Why, yes. Right here."
"Then give it to me," Ryoma said, and removed the silver knob which secured the hilt to the blade. In its place he wrapped the piece of cloth around the base, collected his money and left the shop.
That evening Ryoma took a riverboat to Kyoto, and, upon his arrival the next morning, went directly to Choshu headquarters there.
'Sakamoto-san, I'm glad to see you're safe," Kusaka Genzui greeted him.
"We've been worried about you. There are Tosa agents patrolling the streets of Kyoto and Osaka, and, in case you haven't heard, you're on their list of most wanted men."
"I knew that I would be before I fled," Ryoma said with a shrug.
"For the murder of Yoshida Toyo," Kusaka informed. As the assassination closely coincided with Ryoma's having fled the han, the Tosa authorities naturally suspected Hanpeita's right-hand man of the murder.
"Murder? Of Yoshida Toyo? I'm wanted for Yoshida's murder? Of all the stupid things," Ryoma shouted, not trying to conceal his anger. "So," he said, "they've finally done it."
"Yes."
"What's the situation like in Kyoto now?" Ryoma asked.
"Since the fiasco at the Teradaya, we've been paralyzed for fear of arrest. • Everyone's waiting for the right time to move again."
"I see."
"Sakamoto-san, I really think it would be wise for you to stay here for a while until things calm down."
"Do you know anything about a Tosa samurai named Sawamura Sonojo?": Ryoma asked.
"Yes, he's here with us right now."
Ryoma spent the following month in hiding at Choshu's Kyoto headquarters, until he began to feel like an animal in a cage.
"Sonojo," Ryoma said to his friend early one morning, after a long, hot sleepless night. "I've had enough. I have to get out of here."
"Huh?" Sonojo started from his sleep. "You can't leave. There are stills hordes of Tosa agents looking for us all over the city."
"I'm just not made to stay in one place like this, Sonojo." Ryoma got up and thrust his sword through his sash.
"Would you rather be captured and put in jail?"
"No, I couldn't stand that either."
"Then stay here, at least for the time being," Sonojo pleaded. "You have no other choice."
"You always have a choice, Sonojo. It's just a matter of acting on your commitments."
"I see," Sonojo said, taken aback by the weightiness of Ryoma's words.
"The purpose of life," Ryoma continued, "is to act, and through action, achieve great results."
"Where will you go?"
"I'm not sure. Maybe to Edo. Or maybe I'll sail to America on a Black Ship."
"You're crazy, Ryoma!"
"Perhaps so, but I can't stay here any longer."
"If you really insist on leaving," Sonojo said, "at least wait until the cover of night. Discuss the matter with Kusaka. Maybe he'll have some advice for you."
"Perhaps you're right," Ryoma halfheartedly agreed.
"Why Edo?" Kusaka asked Ryoma later that morning. "Edo is the Tokugawa stronghold. All of the most traitorous, anti-Imperial elements are gathered in..." Kusaka paused. "Wait a minute! If you insist on going to Edo, I have an idea." "What's that?"
"You could put your sword to use, Sakamoto-san. What better purpose could an expert swordsman like yourself serve than to cut down the enemies of the Emperor?"
"Like who?"
"Within the Bakufu are two scoundrels who have taken Ii's place as the top proponents of yielding to the barbarians."
"Who are they?" Ryoma asked.
"One is a direct Tokugawa retainer by the name of Katsu Kaishu. He's the commissioner of the Shogun's navy. The other is a scholar from Kumamoto by the name of Yokoi Shonan. He's the chief political advisor to the Lord of Fukui. The Lord of Fukui has recently been appointed political director of the Bakufu."
"What about them?" Ryoma asked without much interest.
"You could do Japan a great service by cutting the scoundrels down. Both Katsu and Yokoi are two of the biggest obstacles to our cause, and..."
"In what way are they obstacles to our cause?" Ryoma interrupted.
"Katsu and Yokoi advocate the complete opening of our country and free trade with the barbarians."
"Free trade?" Ryoma grinned, swatting a mosquito on the back of his sweaty neck.
"Yes," Kusaka confirmed, giving Ryoma a puzzled look. "Katsu is one of the most outward proponents of opening Japan. And with Yokoi's appointment as chief political advisor to the most powerful Bakufu minister, in essence he has also become the most influential advisor for our national policy. And so, as an initial step toward toppling the Tokugawa, it would be very useful to eliminate these two traitors."
"Katsu Kaishu and Yokoi Shonan?" Ryoma confirmed the names. "Never heard of either of them, but I'll see what I can do." Ryoma stood up and thrust his sword through the sash of a new hakama which the Choshu men had given him, along with a new kimono, several pieces of gold and a pommel for his sword.
That evening at dusk Ryoma passed through the guarded gate of Choshu headquarters and out into the dangerous streets of the Imperial capital. From here the outlaw-samurai walked eastward on a two-week trek along the Tokaido Road to Edo, and, though unbeknown to him, the beginning of a new life.
* * *
Takechi Hanpeita, having included himself among the five hundred samurai accompanying the sixteen-year-old Tosa daimyo on his mandatory trip to Edo, reached Kyoto in late August, only four months after masterminding the assassination of Regent Yoshida Toyo. Having succeeded over the summer in uniting Tosa behind Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism, Master Zuizan had unofficially usurped the reins of power in Kochi, as the Golden Age of the Tosa Loyalist Party got under way.
Hanpeita and his men used their influence in the Imperial Court, mainly with a radical young noble by the name of Sanjo Sanetomi, to effect an Imperial decree for the Lord of Tosa to stop in Kyoto en route to Edo. As Satsuma and Choshu had already stationed troops in Kyoto, the leader of the now powerful Tosa Loyalist Party deemed that Tosa should not allow itself to be left behind these two han who were working to achieve a close relationship with the Imperial Court. To further strengthen his grip on Tosa policy, as soon as the Tosa retinue arrived in Kyoto, Hanpeita arranged for a second Imperial decree ordering the daimyo to remain there. The decree was issued under the pretense of defending the court from possible foreign attack, but was actually for the purpose of defying the Tokugawa Law or Alternate Attendance in Edo. And so, the leader of the Tosa rebels had successfully manipulated the young daimyo into supporting Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism, thus entering Tosa as a leading player in national politics.
The Kyoto scene on which the Tosa Loyalists appeared in the late summer of the second year of the Era of Bunkyu, 1862, was one of great political turbulence. Among the great "outside fiefs," the most prominent being Choshu, Satsuma and Tosa, existed sharp debate as to which of the three leading policies would best serve their individual interests. The first policy, Support for the Bakufu, connoted traditional restraint in national affairs among the
Outside Lords, leaving such matters to direct Tokugawa retainers. The second, a Union of Court and Camp, would allow the most powerful of the Outside Lords a say in national affairs. The third policy, Toppling the Bakufu
and Imperial Loyalism, spoke for itself.
In Tosa, Support for the Bakufu was the policy of the upper-samurai, particularly the conservative old guard who had been ousted by Yoshida Toyothen reinstated, if only nominally, by the recent coup. Yoshida's staunch support of a Union of Court and Camp had led to his assassination by Hanpeita's Loyalists, who were determined to overthrow the Edo regime and restore the rule to the divine Emperor in Kyoto.
Further complicating things was a long-standing rivalry between the two most powerful Outside Lords on the Kyoto scene: Shimazu Hisamitsu of Satsuma and Mori Takachika of Choshu. In order to usurp undisputed leadership from Choshu as chief mediator between court and camp, Lord Hisamitsd had led an army into Kyoto in June, the intentions of which had so tragically been misinterpreted by, among others, his own samurai whom he ordered slaughtered at the Teradaya. Having succeeded in winning Kyoto's approval of his own proposal for a Union of Court and Camp, and being appointed by the court to establish order in Kyoto, the calculating Lord Hisamitsu, not to be misled by his own insurgent vassals, was assigned to escort an Imperial messenger to Edo, to order the Shogun to Kyoto for consultations with the Emperor. In face of the none-too-subtle threat of Lord Hisamitsu's armed guard of 1,000 strong, the Shogun agreed to the Imperial demand, which actually consisted of Satsuma's proposal.
Nor was the Lord of Choshu idle while his arch-rival from Satsuma was in Edo. By the workings of Katsura Kogoro in Edo, and much to the pleasure of Kusaka Genzui's band of radicals at Choshu's Kyoto headquarters, this han abandoned its former support of a Union of Court and Camp, and replaced it with an official policy of Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism. Choshu's ploy-skillfully timed during Lord Hisamitsu's absence from Kyoto, and following the detested slaughter of Loyalists by Satsuma men at the Teradaya-proved for the time being to position Choshu ahead of Satsuma at the forefront of anti-Tokugawa Loyalists gathered in the Imperial capital. While Hisamitsu had been commissioned as Imperial escort, his purpose was merely to "correct the Edo regime," whereas Choshu was now prepared to act under Imperial decree to topple the Tokugawa. And although Takechi Hanpeita and his Tosa Loyalists were no less radical than their Choshu allies, the mere fact that Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism had become the official policy of Choshu gave that han the political edge in Kyoto.
* * *
In August of the same year, just before Ryoma reached Edo and Hanpeita arrived in Kyoto, an event occurred near the foreign settlement of Yokohama, in the small village of Namamugi, which added fuel to the common fire raging in the hearts of xenophobes throughout Japan.
Upon successfully completing his mission in Edo, Lord Hisamitsu set out early one morning in late August to return to Kyoto. The Satsuma entourage-mounted guards, foot soldiers, luggage handlers and palanquins bearing the daimyo and other high officials-numbered seven hundred strong and extended over a mile. At the rear of the entourage, as if to flaunt his newfound power, Hisamitsu had placed an intimidating cannon, mounted onto a horse-drawn cart for all the world to see. One year, or even several months earlier, the Satsuma daimyo would never have dared to so blatantly challenge the heretofore undisputed authority of the Tokugawa regime.
Not a cloud blemished the clear blue sky as the military procession moved west along the Tokaido Road on the outskirts of Edo. Crowds waited patiently along the roadside for a glimpse at the parade. When it would finally reach their own village, the awed spectators would humbly drop to their knees, and thus remain until it had completely passed. Such was the common respect which Japanese custom, and even law, demanded for the entourage of a daimyo.
It just so happened that it was a Sunday. Although the days of the week were of no significance to the Satsuma samurai, whose reputation for valor had been unmatched throughout Japan for centuries, the foreigners living in nearby Yokohama were apt to make a holiday of the Christian day of rest.
As Hisamitsu's palanquin approached the small fishing village of Namamugi, just fourteen leagues west of Edo, a group of four Britons-three men and a woman-traveled leisurely on horseback along the same road in the opposite direction. The scene could not have been better arranged if it had been the mischief of some ancient Japanese demon intent on deepening the social mire of the times with which the land was already covered.
In order to prevent dangerous confrontations, the Edo government had made it a point to inform the foreigners in advance of approaching daimyo entourages. Thus informed, the foreigners were expected to stay away. Whether these particular Britons had not been informed of the Satsuma schedule or whether they had unwisely chosen to ignore the warning remains a mystery, but when the ill-fated four approached the heavily guarded palanquin of the Lord of Satsuma, they were immediately ordered, in no uncertain terms, to dismount, lead their horses to the side of road and let the array pass by. Not understanding Japanese, all four Britons remained in their saddles, infuriating the Satsuma samurai who took this as a blatant display of disrespect for their lord. Had the Britons been familiar with Japanese custom, tragedy may have been avoided. But one of the four, a merchant by the name of C. L. Richardson, had just recently arrived in Japan from a long stay in Shanghai. Having become accustomed to getting his way with the Chinese by brute intimidation, Richardson very foolishly assumed that "all Orientals, certainly being of the same timid nature, could easily be controlled."
This was poor Richardson's last misconception, as his group attempted to cut off the procession directly in front of the approaching black lacquered palanquin of the Satsuma daimyo, emblazoned in gold with the Shimazu family crest of an encircled cross, the ominous significance of which the foreigners had no idea. As such an act was considered to be the ultimate in rudeness, samurai were permitted by law to cut down the offenders.
"Dismount! Dismount immediately!" a samurai repeated in vain, as the party of four tried to pass by the procession.
"What's all the commotion?" Lord Hisamitsu muttered from inside his palanquin.
"A group of barbarians are in our way, My Lord," answered one of Hisamitsu's bodyguards.
"Then kill the impudent bastards!" Hisamitsu is said to have ordered.
Whether or not Hisamitsu actually instructed his men to commit murder, a white light flashed inside the brain of one expert swordsman who had been assigned the honorable position of personal guard to his lord's palanquin. This was Narahara Kizaemon, the older brother of the man who had led the vigilante group in the Teradaya fratricide. Drawing his sword, Narahara charged the nearest foreigner, let loose an ear-piercing guttural wail, as blood sprayed from underneath Richardson's clean white cotton shirt. His torso sliced open from left shoulder to right hip, the unfortunate man went into a state of shock before dropping like a dead weight from the back of his bewildered horse. As if Richardson had not had enough, another Satsuma warrior, crying "mercy of the samurai," put the poor man out of his misery with a final deathblow to the throat. Meanwhile, the other two Englishmen, too startled at first to even move, received lesser wounds to the body, before grabbing their bloodied reins and racing back to Yokohama. Although the Satsuma men were quite willing to cut the "male barbarians," they did no more harm to the woman than to cut off her long hair before allowing her to flee.
* *
When the Satsuma host finally reached the Imperial capital, Lord Hisamitsu found that things were not as he had left them just a few months before. The radicals whom he thought he had so skillfully thwarted with the Teradaya slaughter were again raging through Kyoto like wildfire. He was furious to discover that his arch-rival, the Lord of Choshu, had gained the Imperial grace which had belonged to Satsuma before he had left Kyoto. And backed by the Choshu extremists, the Imperial Court was no longer to be appeased by Satsuma's middle-of-the-road policy of a Union of Court and Camp. Rather, the battle cry of Reverence to the Emperor and Down with the Bakufu reflected the sentiments raging among the Choshu zealots who had gathered in the Imperial capital when the Shield of the Emperor, basking in the glory of his recent coup in Kochi, led his Tosa Loyalists into Kyoto in August 1862, less than one month after Sakamoto Ryoma had left for he knew not what in the Shogun's capital at Edo.
The Dragon Soars
As the young fugitive warrior journeyed from defeat the clouds above suddenly began to seethe, the ocean grew dark and the spray from the waves danced in the air as if magnetized by the heavens. Just as the battle-weary samurai thought that the torrential winds would finally subside, a downpour burst forth, encompassing him in a bamboo forest of silver rain, followed immediately by the deafening roar of thunder.
As the distraught young warrior neared the brink of disaster, and feared that the deluge would never relent, a great white dragon suddenly appeared, soaring through the clouds above, then riding the crest of a wave below, radiating light through its heavenly course. With the head of a horse, antlers of a stag, demon eyes and serpentine neck, the entire body of the great white dragon was covered with the gleaming scales of a fish. With claws as sharp as those of a hawk and powerful tiger-like paws, the mythical demigod was adorned with the ears of a bull.
Though legend has it that the dragon is a natural sage, in truth the beast-god knew well of worldly desire. It is for this very reason that in ancient f times, by means of some mysterious technique long forgotten, man had been able to tame the dragon, and even partake of its divine flesh.
But this particular dragon which had suddenly appeared for the brave young warrior was of a unique breed. Indeed this great white dragon could see 250 leagues into the distance and, unlike others of its kind, was the1 embodiment of freedom.
The fugitive warrior gazed up at the divine entity which seemed to have inherited the clouds, the very source of its limitless energy. Then, just as suddenly as it had appeared, the dragon disappeared into the heavens from whence it came, the sea once again grew calm, the clouds gave way to a limitless and nearly transparent blue, the mountains in the distance shone in effervescent green off the blessed sunlight that warmed the bones of the weary young warrior, bringing a picture-perfect climax to the impetuous entry and exit of the great white dragon.
Ryoma opened his eyes to find himself in Edo, at the house of his sword master's son and heir, Chiba Jutaro. His bedding was strewn about, and an uncanny sweat covered his body, despite the chill in the air on this late morning in early October. "What a dream," he muttered to himself, rubbed his eyes, then sat up to massage the sides of his aching head.
"Jutaro!" Ryoma called through the closed paper screen door of the young sword master's room, adjacent his own. Jutaro, who had been writing at his desk, lay his brush down. "Come in," he said.
Ryoma sat down on the matted floor next to Jutaro. "My head aches," he said. The two had drank long into the previous night, rehashing old memories from nine years past when Ryoma had first appeared at the Chiba Dojo in the spring of 1853, just before the arrival of Perry's flotilla and the beginning of the end of two-and-a-half centuries of Tokugawa peace.
"Oyasu," Jutaro called his wife, "bring tea."
"What are you writing?" Ryoma asked.
"A letter."
"To whom?"
"To the most important political mind in Japan."
"Who's that?"
"Yokoi Shonan, the chief political advisor to Lord Matsudaira Shungaku, the retired daimyo of Fukui Han, who is now the political director of the Bakufu."
'"Expelling the filthy barbarians from the sacred soil of Japan,'" Ryoma began reading aloud from Jutaro's letter, '"is the most important task that faces all samurai of true courage.'"
"I'm absolutely dedicated to Imperial Reverence and Expelling the Barbarians," Jutaro said.
"How do you know Yokoi Shonan?" Ryoma asked.
"I don't actually know him. I'm just writing him a letter. Lord Ikeda has promised me to get it delivered." Lord Ikeda was a minor daimyo, to whose son Jutaro had recently become private fencing instructor.
"More than just expelling the barbarians," Ryoma said, "we must concentrate our efforts on overthrowing the Tokugawa."
"Excuse me," Oyasu said, opening the door. She held a dark brown lacquered tray, on which were two porcelain tea cups and a tea pot.
"Jutaro," Ryoma said after Oyasu served the tea, "how would you like to come with me today?"
"Where? To cut down the Shogun?" Jutaro snickered, albeit in an unintentional whisper.
"No. But maybe one of his chief retainers," Ryoma answered nonchalantly.
"What?" Jutaro started.
"I'm going to visit the commissioner of the Bakufu Navy. A man by the name of Katsu Kaishu." Although Ryoma would have Jutaro believe that he was considering killing this elite Bakufu official, he actually harbored quite different intentions. Having heard that Kaishu had commanded a ship to the United States, manned entirely by Japanese, Ryoma had become fascinated with the man. Although Kaishu was detested as a traitor among the Loyalists, m his deepest heart, Ryoma, who had an innate passion for things maritime, had already formulated his own thoughts about the navy commissioner.
Ryoma's admiration was not unfounded. He reasoned that any man who had the courage to brave such a dangerous voyage must have some redeeming qualities. And recently, since returning to Edo, Ryoma had heard another interesting story concerning the pluck of this so-called traitor. When American Consul Townsend Harris was informed of the Bakufu's plan to send an all-Japanese crew across the Pacific on a ship designed to sail in only coastal waters, he dismissed it as a crazy idea. Instead, Harris advised the Japanese to use a larger ship and man it with experienced American and British sailors. While the Bakufu was ready to heed Harris' advice, Kaishu refused to listen, and eventually set sail on his pioneering journey without foreign assistance.
Ryoma's admiration for Kaishu and his fascination for Western ships notwithstanding, he was by no means willing to sell out to the foreigners. And although he no longer shared the blind xenophobia of his comrades, he resented as much as anyone the insult of ultimatum that the foreigners had presented to Japan concerning the opening of its ports. He particularly detested the shameless way that the Bakufu had yielded to foreign demands. But Ryoma, like Kawada Shoryo and Katsu Kaishu, was wise enough to realize the futility of trying to resist the inevitability of the times.
"You're crazy, Ryoma," Jutaro exclaimed. "How do you plan to get close enough to Katsu to cut him?" Then after a brief pause, he added, "Although I can't say I blame you. I'd like to kill the traitor myself."
"With this," Ryoma said, drawing his sword. "Are you coming with me. I'm going straight to Katsu's house. If at first he refuses to see me, I'll cut my way inside, and if I have to, I'll cut..."
"Hold it," Jutaro interrupted. "Here, have some more tea," he said, refilling both cups. "You still haven't told me how you plan to get into Katsu's ' house."
"Well," Ryoma began speaking slowly, "I was actually hoping to ask for your help."
"My help?"
"Yes. Through the Chiba name, I thought that you might be able to get a letter of introduction to Katsu from somebody high up."
"Ryoma," Jutaro exclaimed, his eyes brightening, "you just might have a point there. I think I might be able to get the Lord of Tottori to arrange a meeting for us with the Lord of Fukui."
"Huh?" Ryoma pressed his tea cup against his lips. "I don't follow you."
"The Lord of Fukui is apparently close with Kaishu. So, if we were to ask him to..."
Ryoma gulped down the tea, and slammed the empty cup on the matted, floor. "Fantastic idea!" he exploded. "Let's go!" Ryoma grabbed his sword, and stood up to leave.
"Wait," Jutaro said. "First, I'll have to pay a visit to the Lord of Tottori. Hopefully he'll arrange for us to meet the Lord of Fukui, and if all goes well, we'll have our chance to meet Katsu Kaishu this very evening. Then we either straighten out Katsu's traitorous ideas about opening Japan to the barbarians," Jutaro said bitterly, "or we cut him down."
Ryoma, however, had different intentions in mind. Like the great white dragon in his vision, he was searching for his own chance to inherit the clouds, to soar through the heavens on the boundless energy of vapor. An outlaw-samurai, a meager ronin, visiting an elite government official? Unheard of? Farfetched? Preposterous? Such words of restraint were not included in the vocabulary of Sakamoto Ryoma.
* * *
Katsu Kaishu was born in Edo in 1823, the only son of a petty Tokugawa retainer. At age six he was invited by a distant relative employed in the Shogun's inner-palace to view the wonderful gardens in the compound of Edo Castle. Having caught the eye, and apparently the fancy, of Shogun Tokugawa Ienari, from this day the young boy became the official playmate of the Shogun's grandson, spending most of his time in the confines of the castle, where he would continue this role for the next five years.
One day, on his way to the castle, Kaishu was attacked by a stray dog, and bitten in that most vulnerable of places of the male anatomy. Although the actual wound was sewn up and healed soon after, the tender aftermath prohibited him from beginning kenjutsu training until his fifteenth year, when he took up residence at the dojo of Shimada Toranosuke, one of the most reputable sword masters in Edo. Here, Kaishu's training was of much greater severity, both mentally and physically, than most men of the time had been apt to endure. It was to this training, which he continued daily for the next four years, that later in life Kaishu attributed his great success as innovative shogunal official, and even his ability to survive several attacks on his life. At age twenty, Kaishu was initiated at Shimada's dojo, qualifying him to become a kenjutsu instructor in his own right. Two years later, however, he discontinued his training with the sword and took up the study of the Dutch language.
Throughout the period of Tokugawa rule, most knowledge of the West was transmitted by the Dutch to native scholars of Western learning. Although most so-called "Dutch scholars" studied medicine (Perry's flotilla was not to appear off the Edo coast for several years), Kaishu's keen sense of the times led him to pursue Western military science. He continued his studies for five years until 1850, when, at age twenty-seven, the Western scholar opened up his own private academy in his shoddy home in Edo's Akasaka district. From this time, Kaishu's reputation as an expert in things Western began to spread.
Within two years, in 1852, Kaishu had received requests from various han around Japan for the manufacture of Western-style cannon, which, with the aid of a blacksmith, he constructed according to the instructions in his Dutch textbooks. Kaishu first attracted significant attention among the Bakufu elite at age thirty with a brilliant letter of advice he had submitted to a national survey conducted by Edo in response to Perry's demands. His letter, which displayed a greater awareness of the times than any of the hundreds which the government had received, proposed that the Bakufu break an age-old tradition, and go beyond social class to recruit men of ability for these very pressing times. It also advised that the Bakufu begin international trade, using the profits thereby to build a modern navy.
Although the ranks of the Bakufu were filled with men of mediocre ability who had attained their posts due to nothing more than birthright, such was not the case for the entire Edo elite. And fortunately for Kaishu-and indeed the future of Japan-the talents of the young scholar caught the attention of Okubo Ichio, one of the most progressive and enlightened Tokugawa officials in these very troubled times.
Over the following six years, Kaishu dedicated himself to government service, during which time he was sent to study under Dutch naval experts in the port city of Nagasaki. It was here that Kaishu obtained the knowledge and skills to enable him to command the Kanrin Maru, the first Japanese-manned ship ever to sail to the Western world. Kaishu returned to Japan in May 1860, two months after the assassination of Ii Naosuke. With national policy at a temporary standstill pending the emergence of new Bakufu leadership, a discouraged Kaishu, now thirty-seven, retired into temporary obscurity. In the following year, with the restoration to power of his political ally and close friend, the Lord of Fukui, Kaishu's return to the national scene was secured. The maritime expert was appointed commissioner of the Shogun's navy in August 1862, only two months before Ryoma and Jutaro appeared at the front gate of his home carrying a letter of introduction from the Lord of Fukui.
* * *
Two swordsmen, one shoddy, the other immaculately dressed, increased their pace as they walked up the sloped road leading to the home of the navy commissioner, just after sundown on a chilly, cloudless October night. Earlier in that day, Jutaro had arranged for an audience for Ryoma and himself with I Lord Matsudaira Shungaku, the retired Fukui daimyo and most powerful official in the Edo regime, to request a letter of introduction to Katsu Kaishu." In the light of the full moon the two swordsmen appeared hostile, even dangerous, as they rapidly approached the house of the celebrated proponent of Opening the Country. "Jutaro!" Ryoma broke the moonlit silence, then suddenly stopped in his tracks near a high moss-covered stone wall at the side of the road, beyond which stood an ancient Shinto shrine. "Before we jump to any conclusions about Katsu," he said in a low voice, his back against the stone wall, "I think we ought to hear what he has to say."
"What do you expect to gain out of listening to a traitor like Katsu Kaishu?"
"I'm not sure he is a traitor. But if he is," Ryoma wrapped his right hand around the hilt of his sword, "he'll get what he has coming to him. But if he isn't," Ryoma grinned slightly, "I think Katsu might be able to teach us how to operate a Western-style warship."
"What?" Jutaro gasped in disbelief.
"Give me two or three of those ships the Bakufu has docked in Edo Bay, and I'll topple the Tokugawa myself," Ryoma boasted.
"You're crazy, Ryoma," Jutaro scoffed. "We're about to cut down a cowardly traitor, and you're talking nonsense. Let's go," he said, and the two men resumed their rapid gait up the slope toward Kaishu's house.
Jutaro could hardly be blamed for his indignation. For all intents and purposes, Ryoma's talk of learning how to operate a warship was nonsense.
Although the Bakufu had set up a naval training center in Edo, for the past two-and-a-half centuries only vassals of the Shogun (or upon special request, samurai from certain elite han) were permitted to participate in any kind of Bakufu-sponsored military training. And since Ryoma was a lower-samurai from Tosa, he had as little chance of receiving recommendation by the Lord of Tosa as did the sons of farmers and merchants of that strictly segregated domain. And even if lower-samurai had been eligible, Ryoma was now an outlaw.
As the two approached the front gate, Ryoma again stopped and turned to face Jutaro. "Before we go in there," he said, gesturing with his chin toward the house, "I want you to know one thing. I'm not sure that I want to kill Katsu. I only insinuated that I was to convince you to come with me." "You did what?" Jutaro gasped indignantly.
"Relax! I wanted you to come for your own good. I have the feeling that there's a lot more to Katsu than what most of us realize. Anyway, before we kill the man, we owe it ourselves to hear him out. Maybe he has something worthwhile to say."
"Ryoma! I can't believe I'm actually hearing these things from you, of all people. Katsu's a traitor. He's leading the way for the Westernization of Japan."
"If he's a traitor, then I'll be the first to cut him," Ryoma said, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword. "But the Westernization of Japan?" he scoffed. "We have to defend ourselves some way. You don't really believe that Japan has a chance against the barbarians without Western-style warships and technology. We certainly aren't going to drive the barbarians out with our swords alone."
The two samurai passed through the front gate, its dark brown wood badly weathered. A mossy stone walkway led to the front door of the two-storied house, which in the moonlight appeared to be in as much need of repair as the front gate.
"Is anyone home?" Jutaro called from the front entranceway, which was lit by a single lantern.
Presently an attractive, middle-aged woman carrying a white paper lantern appeared. "Yes, what might you want at this hour?" she asked. Her teeth were blackened and her eyebrows shaved, indicating that this was the lady of the household.
"We've come to see Katsu-sensei," the sloppily dressed samurai said. As was his habit, Ryoma held his right hand tucked into his kimono. "We have a letter of introduction from Lord Matsudaira Shungaku," he said, producing the document.
Katsu's wife took the letter, told the two visitors to wait, then disappeared into the dark house. She returned a few minutes later to escort them down a dark corridor leading to a drawing room which was adjacent to a study. Sliding open the screen door of the drawing room, the woman told them to wait inside.
Enter Katsu Kaishu. Although Ryoma and Jutaro could see only his silhouette through the thin paper screen which separated the drawing room from the study, they perceived a small man, just under five feet tall, with a wiry build, who, if standing next to either of them, would barely reach their shoulders.
"Don't take off your swords," Kaishu suddenly called out. Although neither man had intended to leave his swords in the drawing room, Kaishu seemed amused to go through the formality of permitting them to retain their weapons. "It just wouldn't be fitting of samurai in these troubled times to be so careless," he gibed. "You may enter as you are."
Not knowing what to expect next, the two men entered the study. Books-in Dutch, English, Chinese and the native script-were piled in heaps along one wall. In one corner was a globe of the world. In the alcove was a model of a triple-masted steamer, and next to this were two swords set in a rack made of deer antlers. In the middle of the room, with arms folded at his chest, stood the commissioner of the Shogun's navy. At age thirty-nine, Katsu Kaishu was of a light complexion, and his piercing dark eyes displayed an inner strength which immediately impressed both swordsmen. His slightly aquiline nose, thin lips and small jaw produced an aristocratic air. With a full head of hair tied in a topknot, he was plainly dressed in a light blue kimono, gray hakama and a black jacket on which was displayed the Katsu family crest of a four-petaled flower in a circle. But the navy commissioner's aristocratic air was instantly shattered when he began speaking in his slick downtown Edo accent.
"Don't just stand there," he said with an amused grin which annoyed Jutaro. "Sit down!"
"So, this is the man that people say is selling out to the barbarians," Ryoma; thought to himself. "And the same man who commanded the ship across the Pacific." His mind raced as he eyed the model ship in the alcove. Ryoma; now realized that the man standing before him was not a typical member of; the Bakufu elite. He had been in Edo long enough to know that those pusillanimous products of Edo's easy living were no different than the pampered sons of upper-samurai from Tosa, whom he had learned to despise. "I'm Sakamoto Ryoma from Tosa," he said brusquely.
Kaishu sat down on the tatami floor next to a wooden brazier, on which rested a small steaming kettle. "Well, Sakamoto Ryoma-san," he said, "sit down!" Placing their swords on the floor at their right sides, the younger men sat opposite Kaishu in the formal position.
"So, you've come to cut me down," Kaishu stunned both swordsmen with the nonchalance in which he spoke. "Why are you so surprised?" he continued in a calm, gibing tone, as he warmed his hands over the brazier. "You both have revenge written all over your faces, so you can forget about trying to hide it."
Ryoma and Jutaro remained silent, quite outdone by the smaller man's display of pluck. Although neither knew it, Kaishu had previously been warned of their visit in a message from Lord Shungaku. "You can expect a sudden visit at any time now from two young swordsmen" the note began, before giving their names. "As I estimate Sakamoto to be a youth of great character and potential, I have taken it upon myself to introduce him to you. But please be careful with him, as he is still young and a bit naive, and seems to harbor some wild ideas in favor of expelling the barbarians."
"You aren't the first ones who have been here with the same purpose in mind," Kaishu continued speaking in the same vibrant downtown accent. "People who call themselves Men of High Purpose come here every day to cut me down. Can you believe it? Who'd have ever thought that I'd be this sought after? I'm flattered, I tell you, simply flattered. But," Kaishu said with an amused grin, "I don't hold a grudge against any of them. They're only doing what they think is best for Japan, even if many of them are lacking a bit up here," he chuckled, tapping his temple with his index finger. "So, what I usually do, is invite them in for a long talk. And up to now, not even one of them has killed me," he said, bursting out in laughter.
So as not to be made a fool of, Jutaro felt inclined to speak, but before he could get a word in his loquacious host beat him to the verbal draw. "You must be the young sword master of the Chiba Dojo." The smooth-talking expert of things maritime cast a hard gaze into the fiery eyes of Chiba Jutaro.
With this unexpected and abrupt turn of things, Jutaro had now lost whatever intentions he may have had of killing Katsu Kaishu.
"Well, it certainly is something, isn't it," Kaishu responded to Jutaro's reluctance to speak, "to have such a reputed sword master in my home." Although Jutaro could not resist taking the compliment at face value, something about the way the little man spoke rang of irony.
Since having introduced himself a few moments ago, Ryoma had also remained silent, in the formal sitting position, back straight, head upright, and hands resting on his thighs. "Katsu-sensei," he began speaking reverently.
"You needn't call me 'Sensei,'" Kaishu interrupted, waving his hand in a gesture to show the two younger men that he was willing to talk to them on an equal level. "Relax," he said, motioning for them to sit cross-legged like himself. "Let's forget the formalities and start talking about things that really matter," he said, then clapped his hands twice loudly, a signal for his wife to serve hot tea. "Then, if you don't like what I have to say," Kaishu continued to amaze, "you can kill me and be on your way." With a pair of iron sticks, he picked up a glowing cinder from the brazier and lit a short bamboo pipe of tobacco. Slowly exhaling the smoke through his nostrils, he added, "Although I've practiced kenjutsu myself, I wouldn't stand a chance against two expert swordsmen like yourselves. Besides, I keep the hilt of my sword so tightly fastened to the scabbard that I'd have trouble just drawing the damn blade."
No, Ryoma thought again, this is not a typical Bakufu official. "You're right, Katsu-san," he said. "The reason we came tonight was to kill you."
"Now that it's out in the open, why don't you tell me why you'd want to do a thing like that?" Kaishu asked, reaching for a large, metal ashtray.
Gently tapping the ashes from his pipe into the ashtray, the navy commissioner said, "Actually, I already know why. I represent a government which has disgraced itself by being forced to sign a treaty with the barbarians permitting free trade with foreign nations against the will of his Sacred Majesty in Kyoto. And so," Kaishu continued speaking the younger men's thoughts, "I'm a traitor who advocates the cowardly policy of Opening the Country." "Yes," Ryoma spoke up, "the Bakufu has deceived the people, and is only concerned with its own welfare. The Bakufu no longer has the power to govern Japan. If we allow things to continue as they are, Japan is going to face the same humiliation as China."
"So, what else do you have to say, Sakamoto-san?" Kaishu snickered. "Don't you see? That's exactly why we must open our country to free trade. The only way we can beat the barbarians is by first opening up to them. But I wouldn't want you to think that I intend to sit back and watch them come into Japan to do whatever they please." Kaishu suddenly stopped speaking, as his wife appeared at the doorway to serve tea. "I'd love to cut the bastards to pieces," the navy commissioner continued. "But do you really believe that it's possible to keep the barbarians away?" Kaishu paused, sipped his tea. "What do you suppose would happen, Sakamoto-san, if Tosa Han, for instance, were attacked by the barbarians?"
"Tosa wouldn't stand a chance against their warships and cannon," Ryoma snickered. "The fight would be over as soon as it started."
"So, you understand," Kaishu said consolingly. "For us to fight the barbarians at this point would be like beating our heads against an iron wall."
He chuckled at the unfortunate metaphor. "And with the way things are in Japan nowadays, I don't think it's such a good idea for Japanese to be killing Japanese. We must combine our resources and work together."
Ryoma recalled in dismay the massacre at the Teradaya, and even the assassination of Yoshida Toyo.
"Internal fighting will only leave us the more vulnerable to foreign attack," Kaishu said, took a deep breath, then continued lecturing. "Instead, we must' concentrate on positive ways to avoid foreign subjugation. But exclusionism, is not one of them," he said firmly, pounding his fist on the floor. "It's simply,' not realistic."
"But opening the country to the barbarians is?" Jutaro asked bitterly. "My reasons for wanting to open Japan are a little different than what you probably think," said Kaishu, slowly raising his teacup to his mouth.
"How's that?" Ryoma asked.
"How old are you, Sakamoto-san?" Kaishu asked.
"Twenty-seven."
"Ha, ha! You're still green," Kaishu taunted. "But you seem to have potential. Anyway back to your question. You wanted to know how I justify my support of Opening the Country, right, Chiba-san?"
Jutaro only nodded.
"Take a look at that," Kaishu said, reaching over to the large globe next-to the pile of books. "See this tiny nation surrounded by nothing but ocean. It's no bigger than Japan. But what it has that Japan doesn't have is the most powerful navy in the history of the world. England has literally thousands of steamships which can travel anywhere on the globe. How else do you suppose it has become the wealthiest nation on the face of the earth? Certainly not from its own natural resources. Look at China," he pointed to the massive Middle Kingdom. "One of the largest countries in the world, but as you know, England has just about conquered it. But, again, England has something that neither China nor Japan has." "A powerful navy," Ryoma interrupted.
"Exactly! Both military and merchant. England has become the wealthiest nation in the history of the world because of one thing: free trade and plenty of it. And by trading all over the world, it has amassed such wealth that no one can challenge it." Then after a slight pause, Kaishu added, "Not yet, anyway. But if things continue as they are now, we are never going to be able to stand up against England or America, not to mention France, Holland, Russia and others. No matter how much we rant and rave about the virtues of keeping the barbarians out, we just don't have the means to do so."
"That's just an excuse for opening the country!" Jutaro angrily spewed, grabbing his sword.
"Relax, Jutaro!" Ryoma said, immediately grabbing his friend by the
wrist.
"And so," Kaishu calmly resumed, "we are going to have to develop our navy, which compared to those of the Western powers is still in its infancy. The few ships we have are like children's toys compared to the great warships of England and America. And when I say 'we are going to have to develop our navy,' I mean all of us together. Not just the sons of elite samurai. Most of them are useless anyway."
"All of us?" Ryoma asked.
"Yes. That means the both of you, myself and any other man with the will, guts and brains to do so."
"Katsu-sensei," Ryoma suddenly blurted out, "I've been wanting to do just that for the past eight years."
"Well, then, rather than wasting our time and energy screaming to expel the barbarians like a bunch of idiots, we must start training talented men in the naval sciences. I've submitted my plan to the Bakufu, but most of the ministers on the Senior Council are too stupid to understand it." Kaishu stunned the two younger men with this comment. "All they can tell me is that we don't have the money."
Ryoma glanced over his shoulder at Jutaro, drawing a snicker from the navy commissioner. "I know what you're thinking now," Kaishu said. You're wondering how a Bakufu official like myself can actually say such a thing. You think I'm two-faced. But never mind."
"That's why we must topple the Tokugawa," Ryoma said bitterly. "It's the Bakufu itself which is holding Japan down."
'So, Sakamoto-san," Kaishu again snickered, "you think it would be quite amusing to get a retainer of the Shogun to agree with you."
"I suppose you're right," Ryoma shrugged.
"And I don't blame you. You think that the Tokugawa is more concerned about its own welfare than that of the rest of the nation. And you're absolutely right."
Ryoma and Jutaro were now beside themselves with awe for this unique Bakufu official.
"In this way," Kaishu continued, "the Bakufu is no different than the hundreds of han throughout Japan. But from now on, we must combine our strength and resources, and regardless of han or birthright or rank, we must rely on men of talent to bring our nation up to the technological level of the Western powers, or we must perish," Kaishu concluded firmly.
"And use the profits we gain from trading with the West to modernize so we can purchase our own warships and guns to develop our navy," Ryoma said.
"Exactly! But rather than merely purchasing the technology, we must import the expertise so that we can produce our own ships. To get the money to build iron mills and the necessary machinery and factories to produce warships and guns, we must trade with the rest of the world. And, Chiba-san," Kaishu directed his attention at the young sword master, "this means opening up to the barbarians. Only then will Japan be able to raise its head proudly to the rest of the world."
Ryoma was mesmerized. Kaishu's talk of forming a navy and going beyond class to recruit men of ability was identical to the ideas of Kawada Shoryo. But these were no longer merely ideas. This was the commissioner of the Bakufu Navy, speaking on equal terms to him, a ronin, a wanted man and self-styled enemy of the very regime which Kaishu represented. This little man who sat before him seemed to radiate the aura of a giant. In fact, Ryoma felt that he had just met the greatest man in all of Japan.
Ryoma sat in the formal position, placed his hands directly in front of him, then, much to the astonishment of both Jutaro and Kaishu, bowed his head to the floor. "Katsu-sensei," he said, resuming an upright posture, "it was my intention tonight to perhaps kill you, but now I am ashamed of my narrow-minded prejudice. I beg you to accept me as your disciple."
"Ryoma!" Jutaro protested.
Not only was the young sword master shocked at the seemingly sudden conversion of his trusted friend, but even Katsu Kaishu himself was taken aback. Indeed this ronin from Tosa seemed to understand his ideas better than any of the self-styled Men of High Purpose whom the navy commissioner had thus far encountered.
"In that case," Kaishu said, "you can sit back and relax. I'll be glad to have you working with me. As a matter of fact, this calls for a drink to celebrate the occasion."
"No, Katsu-sensei. Not tonight." Ryoma was firm.
"No need for reservation with me, Ryoma," Kaishu said, referring to his new disciple familiarly, by his given name.
"If I drink, I won't be of any use tonight," Ryoma said. "Like you've told us, there are men all over Edo who would like to cut you down."
"And?" Kaishu was amused.
"I've just assigned myself as your personal bodyguard." Ryoma grabbed his sword. "If anybody wants to harm Katsu Kaishu," he said, "they are going to have to kill Sakamoto Ryoma first."
Although Kaishu had perhaps exaggerated in his talk of so many would-be assassins showing up at his home, Ryoma was dead serious. He had heard about the recent bloodbath in Kyoto, where the murder of Bakufu supporters had become an everyday occurrence. He had even heard rumors that Takechi Hanpeita was the mastermind behind the bloodshed, and that Okada Izo was his leading hit man. And although Edo was not yet as dangerous as Kyoto, since the assassination of Regent li Naosuke two years before, proponents of Opening the Country were not safe even in the Shogun's capital.
"Jutaro," Ryoma said, turning to his friend, "are you with me?"
Jutaro was confused, as anyone would have been who had accompanied Ryoma on this historical night. "Don't you think you ought to consider this a little more before making such a big decision?" he said, looking Ryoma straight in the eye.
"There's nothing more to consider. You heard what Katsu-sensei said. What could possibly be more important than helping him to build a navy?"
Chiba Jutaro was overcome, and much for his own good, by the clear foresight of Sakamoto Ryoma. "Alright," he shrugged. "You win. Katsu-sensei," Jutaro looked hard at the man whom he had considered killing earlier that very night, "sleep well. Sakamoto Ryoma and Chiba Jutaro will be standing guard until morning."
Bloodlust
Although the flame of patriotism for a united Japan which burned in Ryoma s heart had initially been sparked several years before by Takechi Hanpeita, and later fueled by the fiery rhetoric of Kusaka Genzui, it was the cool wisdom of Katsu Kaishu which steered him on a more definite course toward more definite goals. The navy commissioner would change the life of the outlaw-samurai, who until now had been groping in the dark for what he had just found. Kaishu was to Ryoma an endless source of energy-as the clouds were to the great white dragon of his fantastic vision. The Dragon had begun to soar.
Ryoma s thinking had developed into an eclectic realism, based on his love of freedom, and laced with a combination of anti-Bakufu and xenophi-lous elements which, to most of his emotion-driven comrades, seemed not only contradictory, but even traitorous. His friends could not help but feel that he had overnight taken a complete turnabout by substituting his anti-foreign convictions for a call to open the nation. And as if to add fuel to the fiery spirits of his comrades, Ryoma had even gone so far as to enter into the service of a leading Bakufu official whom other Men of High Purpose had branded an enemy to their cause and traitor to Japan. Some of Ryoma's comrades, upon hearing the news of his conversion, even concluded that he had abandoned Imperial Loyalism in support of the Bakufu, an assumption which was totally mistaken. Most of these zealots not only failed to realize that Ryoma's newly formed synthesis of ideals coincided logically with the merchant blood that flowed in his veins, but what's more, they refused to acknowledge the bitter reality that dealing with the rest of the world was the only way to modernize Japan, and save the nation from foreign subjugation.
While Takechi Hanpeita was officially a lower-samurai, he was now the de facto leader of Tosa Han. His following was numerous, and the influence he had suddenly come to wield was, for the time being, not to be challenged by even the retired daimyo himself, fuming in anger at his Edo villa.
"Izo!" Hanpeita called from his room at an inn in Osaka. Although Okada Izo had not been invited to become an official member of the Tosa Loyalist Party, he was absolutely loyal to the party leader. Master Zuizan was kneeling on the tatami floor, brush in hand, hunched over a bamboo landscape done in Chinese ink, on fine ivory-colored Tosa paper in various shades of black and gray, lodged deeply in his psyche from the annals of ancient Chinese literature.
Dressed only in a black cotton kimono, open at his chest on this scorching afternoon of the last day of July, Izo jumped up from the wooden floor where he had been dozing, just outside the entrance of his master's room. "Yes, Sensei. What is it?" Izo now held his long sword in his right hand, the short one stuck through his sash at his left hip, as he waited anxiously for Hanpeita to invite him inside.
"I have an assignment for you of utmost importance, Izo." Hanpeita spoke calmly, his face an expressionless void, his eyes never once leaving the Chinese landscape before him. The Loyalist leader had been sure to arrange for Okada Izo and several other expert swordsmen to accompany him to nearby Kyoto for reasons he had not yet disclosed.
Izo bowed deeply from the threshold. "Yes, Sensei," he said obediently, still not entering the room. His complete awe for his fencing master had intensified over the years by Hanpeita's penchant for assuming majestic airs, a technique which was effective with many of the Tosa men, but never with Sakamoto Ryoma. Since the assassination of Yoshida Toyo, Hanpeita had been using his rhetorical skill, laced with the solemn silver of samurai ethics and Imperial Loyalism, to dupe his less intellectual followers into obeying his every command. Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism was the maxim, Heaven's Revenge the battle cry of the self-styled "Shield of the Emperor."
"Sit, Izo," Hanpeita gently ordered, as he put down his ink brush, replacing it with a small white fan. "You're like a fierce animal with a sword in your hand." Hanpeita calmly fanned his face, staring hard into the eyes of his overwhelmed disciple. "You're the perfect weapon of the Emperor," he continued to flatter. "Having trained you myself, I know that better than anyone else," he said calmly, still fanning his face. "The daimyo will leave Osaka for Kyoto in a few days."
"Yes, Sensei." Izo was like a vicious dog that could be controlled only by its master.
"There is a certain person who must not be there when our lord arrives."
"Yes, Sensei." Izo's eyes lit up at this chance for his first "assignment."
"That certain person is Inoue Saichiro, of the Tosa police force," Hanpeita whispered, a sinister grin on his otherwise expressionless face. "He's staying with the entourage of our daimyo at Tosa headquarters in Osaka. We can't have him prying." Hanpeita feared that prying by the Tosa police might arouse suspicion, linking his Loyalist Party to the murder of the regent, and even possibly diminishing his de facto rule over Tosa policy. "This is your first opportunity to inflict Heaven's Revenge."
"Heaven's Revenge" Izo repeated the now familiar phrase with religious fervor. "Heaven s Revenge. Yes, Sensei, I understand." After bowing his head to the floor, he stood up, drew his sword, and with an animal-like expression slammed the blade, over two and a half feet long, back into its dark blue lacquered sheath. "I'll get started right away."
Four Tosa samurai sat at a table in a crowded Osaka sake house late in the afternoon on the second day of August. On the table were several ceramic flasks, all empty but one, from which Izo was pouring himself the last drink. 'You both know Inoue quite well," Izo said to two of his comrades-in arms.
"We'll invite him for a drink tonight, and get him so drunk he won't be able to defend himself," whispered one of the men.
"Then we'll take over from there," Izo snickered, putting his arm around f the shoulders of the fourth man.
All four of these men resented their fellow lower-samurai, Inoue Saichiro, for having sided with the Yoshida Toyo faction, while Hanpeita's arch- ' enemy was still very much alive and completely in control of Tosa. Inoue had sold his soul, they reasoned, to the upper-samurai in turn for a chance of improving his own personal lot. And even worse, he was now working with the Tosa police, tracking down Yoshida's assassins.
That evening two of Izo's comrades went to Tosa headquarters in Osaka to invite the unsuspecting police agent on a drinking binge. After getting him sufficiently drunk, they led him over a bridge, above the river which flowed through the city, where Izo and another man were waiting. "Murata," Izo called one of their names, feigning surprise. The streets were empty this late at night, and aside from Izo's gruff voice, the only sound was the clean murmur of the river below. Izo and the other man quickly approached the' three. "Hello, Inoue," Izo said nonchalantly.
"Izo? When did you get here?" the Tosa police agent suspiciously slurred.
"Never mind," Izo said, putting his arm around Inoue's shoulders. "Come, f let's get some women and drink."
Before Inoue could reply, Izo slipped his arm around his neck in a vise-like headlock. "Heaven's Revenge," he wailed, and one of his three accomplices' responded with a kick to Inoue's groin. As Inoue keeled over in pain, Izo produced a piece of rope he had brought for the purpose, wrapped it around the drunken man's neck, and proceeded to strangle the life out of him.
"Here, take this too, traitor," another man snarled, drew his sword and
drove it through Inoue's neck, before the others threw the body into the river
below.
Having felt the blood-lust from his first victim, Okada Izo had transformed; into a murderer whose notorious nom de guerre, "The Butcher," was soon: to be equated with Heaven's Revenge throughout Osaka and Kyoto. Izo experienced for the first time a rush of pleasure at the pit of his gut from the feeling of power which accompanied the act of murder. He had never felt so important, as if he too was now playing an essential role in realizing the lofty political goals of which Hanpeita had often spoken, but he himself so little understood.
Hanpeita and Izo sat in the sword master's private quarters at the Toranotel Inn, located near Tosa headquarters in Kyoto. Private lodgings away from official Tosa headquarters, reasoned the Tosa Loyalist Party leader, would} be necessary as a command post from which to devise his bloody plans fd| Heaven s Revenge against Tokugawa supporters, former henchmen of Iff Naosuke, and other undesirable elements whom Master Zuizan deemed best; eliminated. "You did a good job on Inoue." Hanpeita praised his hit man as he would a dog, handing him a small pouch of gold coins as a reward. Izo's eyes lit up. "Thank you, Sensei," he said, bowing his head to the floor. This was more gold than he had ever seen at once in all the twenty-five years of his heretofore impoverished life.
"And you can use this in your next assignment," Hanpeita said, handing Izo his own sword. Master Zuizan, the planner of murders, spoke these words with a sinister tinge of pleasure derived from the very power he felt in dictating the fate of his enemies.
"Who this time?" Izo asked eagerly.
"Honma Seiichiro," Hanpeita whispered.
"Honma!" Izo exclaimed in disbelief. "But I thought he was on our side."
"It is not for you to question my orders, Izo," Hanpeita calmly scolded, subduing his "wild dog" with an icy stare.
Izo could not understand why Hanpeita would want to murder this champion of Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism. Honma, one of the pioneers of Imperial Loyalism, had visited the Tosa Loyalists in Kochi during the previous spring to urge their support in the planned uprising, which was later crushed by the slaughter at the Teradaya. After the fiasco, Honma negotiated the aid of radical court nobles, the success of which earned him the jealousy of the Tosa Loyalist Party leader, who now wanted this rival eliminated from the Kyoto scene.
It was a rainy night in Kyoto in late August when Honma, escorting a pretty young courtesan clad in a bright flowery kimono, stepped out from the gay realm of a bacchanalian pleasure palace and into a bloody hell of razor-sharp steel and eternal blackness. The courtesan screamed under a white paper lantern flickering in the dark rainy night, as nine swordsmen rushed out from nowhere to surround Honma.
"Heaven's Revenge" wailed Izo, holding his drawn sword high above his head.
"Izo!" screamed Honma. "Is this another murder for Takechi Hanpeita?" "Heaven's Revengel" Izo screamed again. Honma drew his sword, but he was no challenge to Izo's overwhelming skill, as "The Butcher" emitted an ear-piercing guttural wail, diagonally slicing Honma from his left shoulder down to his right hip. Blood spurted like a fountain, spraying the white lantern above, and covering the shock-stricken courtesan who continued to scream bloody murder. "Heaven's Revengel" wailed another swordsman, drawing his blade and impaling the chest of the frenzied woman, who slowly choked on her own blood. The assassins took Honma's head and ran with it to the grassy banks of the Kamogawa, where they mounted it on a bamboo spike stuck firmly in the soft mud.
Three days later Izo led another attack on vassals of a pro-Bakufu family of court nobles, who had been instrumental in both Ii Naosuke's purge and the marriage between the Emperor's sister and the Shogun. "Heaven's Revengel" screamed Izo, delivering the deathblow to his fourth victim, the head of whom was also publicly displayed in the now bloody city of the Emperor. One week later Izo was accredited with the gruesome murder of
another former supporter of Ii. Before strangling this victim, "The Butcher" and his band of hit men first drove bamboo spikes through his penis and up his anus, as he screamed in agony. Not long after this, the heads of three more Bakufu agents who had also been involved in Ii's purge were found on public display on the riverbank near Hanpeita's command post.
Having thus far succeeded in his plan to eliminate his enemies, the Shield of the Emperor, high on the glory of his sudden rise to power, continued to whisper his terrible command of Heaven's Revenge" into the ear of his obedient hit man for the remainder of 1862 and into the following year. Before Hanpeita's reign of terror would end, the victims of the notorious "Butcher" would number twenty, earning Okada lzo the most feared reputation of all the radicals who had gathered in the ancient capital during the bloodbath oft the 1860s.
* *
A few weeks after Ryoma had entered the service of Katsu Kaishu, Takechi; Hanpeita's elaborate palanquin appeared in front of the house of the navy commissioner, on a moonless night in October. The Shield of the Emperor, recently promoted to Imperial samurai status, had been serving as personal; bodyguard to two Imperial messengers dispatched by the court to Edo to; demand that the Bakufu renounce its foreign treaties and resume its policy of seclusionism to, in Hanpeita's own words, "expel the filthy barbarians from the sacred soil of Japan."
Hanpeita, accompanied by two attendants, was dressed in silk, his topknot neatly tied and looped over his cleanly shaven pate. Instead of the long blade; for which the sword master was known, he now wore the dainty ornamental; sword of a court noble. Ordering his two attendants to remain with the palanquin, Hanpeita alighted, and approached the house. "Ryoma!" he called, staring hard at his friend in the dim light of a single lantern. Ryoma was sitting, alone under the eaves of the front gate, his sword on his lap.
"Hanpeita," Ryoma returned the greeting. He had heard of the recent assassinations in Kyoto, and did not doubt rumors that Hanpeita was behind them. Nor did Ryoma doubt the hearsay that Hanpeita's key hit man was his old friend Okada lzo. Almost as much as the actual killing, Ryoma despise Hanpeita's uncanny ability to use people around him as pawns to realize his own personal glory. But despite these ugly thoughts that raced through his mind at his first sight of Hanpeita in over six months, Ryoma was glad to see him.
Hanpeita, for his part, felt a fast feeling of disgust. Not only had Ryomif abandoned Tosa and the Loyalist Party, but it now seemed that his friend§ whom he had always greatly respected, had become a traitor to the verjf cause for which brave men from all over Japan had pledged, and indee' even laid down their lives. "Ryoma, what are you doing here?" Hanpeita sai indignantly. "I couldn't believe that you'd actually be here, but now I see it’s true."
Ryoma jumped to his feet. "You don't understand, Hanpeita. I know exactly what you're thinking, but you're completely mistaken. I'm working for the greatest man in Japan. And to answer you're question, I'm guarding him from crazy maniacs like you." Ryoma shook his head slowly. "What's become of you? What do you expect to gain by slaughtering people?"
"Why are you guarding a traitorous Bakufu official?"
"You just don't understand," Ryoma said.
"Then, you've turned against us?"
"No, I haven't turned against you."
"Then tell me," Hanpeita whispered, "do you still support Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalisml Are you still ready to give your life to protect Japan from the wicked barbarians, overthrow the Tokugawa and restore the power to the sacred Emperor? Or have you really sold out to those who want to open the country to foreign subjugation?"
"What do you think?" Ryoma retorted harshly, looking directly into Hanpeita's eyes, then lowering his voice to a whisper. "I'm still determined to topple the Bakufu. I'm still determined to restore the Emperor to power, and drive the barbarians out of Japan. But I have my own way of accomplishing these things."
Since meeting Katsu Kaishu, Ryoma had completely risen above the simplistic view that expelling the foreigners was inseparable from Imperial Loyalism, and that the open-door doctrine was tantamount to supporting the Bakufu. Unlike Hanpeita, and indeed almost every Loyalist in Japan, Ryoma realized that under the present circumstances Japan could not win a war against the Western powers. Unfortunately, the misinformed Imperial Court, and indeed the chronically xenophobic Emperor himself, were under the dangerous impression that Japan could never be subjugated. And capitalizing on Imperial ignorance, the Choshu and Tosa rebels, led by Kusaka Genzui on the one hand and Takechi Hanpeita on the other, had convinced the court in Kyoto to demand that the Edo regime renounce the foreign treaties.
Thus, the Bakufu found itself faced with a difficult dilemma. Neither bold enough to refuse the Imperial demands, which were supported by the Satsuma, Choshu and Tosa rebels, nor able to violate the foreign treaties for fear of triggering a war which it could not hope to win, the Bakufu had no choice but to appease the court with the vague promise to "eventually close the country to all barbarians." Encouraged by the Choshu and Tosa Loyalists, the court, in turn, insisted on a deadline for expelling the foreigners. If the Bakufu could not meet that deadline, it was insinuated that Imperial forces would attack Edo.
And so, despite Ryoma's realization that Japan was not yet militarily prepared to defend itself from foreign invasion, Hanpeita and his allies remained adamant in equating Opening the Country with a pro-Bakufu policy. Ryoma could not convince his comrades it was only by means of Kaishu's policy of openness that Japan could ever hope to stand up to the foreign demands.
"Then, tell me this," Hanpeita said, "are you still a Loyalist?"
"I'm Japanese," Ryoma answered bluntly.
Hanpeita gave Ryoma a hard look. The concept of simply "being Japanese" was contrary to the mind-set of the people who populated the conglomerate of feudal domains in this particular time in Japanese history. A samurai's country was his han. Accordingly, a Choshu samurai was of Choshu, while ' a Satsuma samurai was a man entirely of that han. Takechi Hanpeita was of Tosa, as were his followers in the Tosa Loyalist Party as well as his i adversaries from the faction of Yoshida Toyo. Similarly, men of the court' were Imperial nobles, while the Shogun's retainers, and samurai from the." Tokugawa-related han, Were men of the Bakufu. Things were cut-and-dry; one's social lot was predetermined by birth. Like Ryoma, however, Katsut Kaishu was an exception. Although as a shogunal retainer he had been born j into the Tokugawa camp, his modern and farsighted outlook enabled him to see beyond the narrow scope of han and Bakufu, and to consider himself as one organic part of the whole of Japanese society.
"Of course you're Japanese?" Hanpeita said. "As I am. But you're also; from Tosa."
"I'm Japanese," Ryoma repeated firmly. "I don't give a damn about Tosa or any of the other han. They're concerned only for themselves. If we are to; save Japan from foreign subjugation, and I believe that's what everyone is; ranting and raving about, then we must work together as one unified nation.' To hell with birthright, to hell with class, to hell with the han and to hell with; the daimyo," Ryoma hollered, as if he were oblivious to the fact that he wasj standing in front of the home of a high-ranking Bakufu official. Then, regaining his composure, Ryoma looked straight into Hanpeita's eyes. "I'm still determined to accomplish one thing," he whispered. "And that's to topple the Tokugawa Bakufu. But I have my own way of doing it."
"By working for a traitorous Bakufu official?" Hanpeita seethed. "I don't understand you at all."
"Like I told you before," Ryoma said, "the worst thing we can do is to be killing each other."
"I can call off my dogs," Hanpeita said, "the men from Tosa, but I can't guarantee that there won't be men from other han after you."
Although Ryoma shared the goal of Hanpeita and the Choshu and Satsumaj radicals, he differed greatly with them not only in his reasons for wanting to;" topple the Bakufu, but also in the means by which he would bring about ths| revolution. The Loyalists were striving to unite the most powerful domains in western Japan (Tosa, Choshu and Satsuma) into one Imperial faction: which would rally around the Emperor and topple the Bakufu with its combined military and political might. Unlike Ryoma, they refused to throw off their chains of feudalism in their actions and ideals. Just as Hanpeita had insisted on working within the feudal structure of Tosa Han, so too weref the Choshu and Satsuma men absolutely dedicated to their own respective clans. As Ryoma well knew, however, even if the Loyalists were successful in overthrowing the Bakufu, they would again break up into individual han to compete with one another for the political authority which had been held by the Tokugawa for the past two-and-a-half centuries. Ryoma, on the other hand, viewed things from a scope that exceeded the individual han. He now realized that the only way to save Japan from foreign subjugation would be to get rid of the feudal system entirely, which meant abolishing the clans altogether. Rather than a conglomerate of individual han, each most concerned with its own self-interest, Ryoma realized the absolute need to combine the resources of all the clans, and form a unified nation to compete with the rest of the world. But in his insight, he also realized that proposing such a concept would only further alienate his comrades. "Timing is of the essence," he told himself, as he patiently awaited his chance to act under the wing of Katsu Kaishu, and so prove to his comrades the wisdom behind his newfound ideas. Not only did Ryoma understand the need for national unity, but his recent exposure to Kaishu's ideas had convinced him that the only realistic way to topple the Bakufu would be by first fortifying the nation against foreign subjugation, thus his perfect dedication to his mentor's school of thought which called for "knowing the enemy through importation of Western military and industrial technology."
"Hanpeita," Ryoma said as the two stood in front of Kaishu's house on this moonless night, "if you think I'm afraid for myself..."
"No. I know you too well for that," Hanpeita said. "But what are you doing?" he repeated, this time in a tone of genuine anguish, as if speaking to a younger brother.
"I just told you. I'm working for the greatest man in Japan. We're getting ready to build a navy. And with our navy, and this," Ryoma held up his sword, "and this," he tapped his temple, "I'll topple the Bakufu."
"By working with a Bakufu official?"
"This isn't the place to discuss the matter," Ryoma hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the house. "By the way, when did you start traveling around in a palanquin? I didn't know you were so important," he snickered. "And what happened to your sword?" he gibed, pointing at the dainty weapon in Hanpeita's sash.
"I'm here on an Imperial mission," Hanpeita said.
"And I'm here recruiting men for our navy," Ryoma retorted. "Do you know anyone who would like to join?"
Hanpeita's pride in his recent elevation in social status lacked the cockiness that compelled Ryoma to brag about his newfound occupation of recruiting trainees for a naval academy which Kaishu was planning to establish. Lately, in fact, when Ryoma wasn't guarding Kaishu's house, the outlaw had been recruiting men to join him in his grand escapades.
"Ryoma, I could really use you with me, especially now," Hanpeita pleaded. Then in a whisper he added, "Tosa, Satsuma and Choshu have united in Kyoto, and we have the backing of the Imperial Court."
Much to the chagrin of the Lord of Satsuma, he had recently been bamboozled into lending his own name to the radical elements behind the Imperial messengers whom Hanpeita was escorting in Edo to demand that the Bakufu expel the foreigners. The conservative Lord of Satsuma, however, who had himself just returned from Edo after persuading the Bakufu of the importance of uniting with the court, was by no means an anti-Bakufu fanatic. But because during his absence from Kyoto the radicals at court had joined hands with the Choshu and Tosa Loyalists, he had no alternative, for the time being, but to endorse the alliance.
"It's only a matter of time," Hanpeita said with conviction, "before we topple the Bakufu."
"Damn it, Hanpeita," Ryoma turned his head to spit. "What are you thinking? Do you want to destroy our nation?"
"What do you mean?"
"If you don't know by now, I guess you never will," Ryoma said in disgust. "You'll never change, Hanpeita. You're just as rigid as ever. You can't rush things. The time just hasn't come. Like you've always said yourself: 'Timing is of the essence!' It's the same in kenjutsu, and you should know that as well as anyone."
"You don't understand, Ryoma. Here you are guarding the enemy, when you should be working with us in Kyoto. We're ready to move, and nothing is going to stop us."
"What do you propose to do after the Bakufu is toppled? Who's going to rule then?"
"The Imperial Court, of course," Hanpeita answered without hesitation.
"The Imperial Court?" Ryoma said derisively. "That's fine, but who's going to keep the barbarians from attacking? That's where this man comes in," Ryoma said, pointing over his shoulder at Kaishu's house. "He's the most important man in Japan." Ryoma paused, folded his arms at his chest, and continued. "You might even say he's our last hope," he added with complete conviction. Then, placing his hand on the hilt of his sword, he said, "Just as the great sword masters have taught through the ages, and just as you yourself have always said, the surest way to defeat an enemy is to first: understand him entirely." Ryoma paused again to take a deep breath. "And; that's exactly what Katsu Kaishu is doing. The man has not only dedicated his life to understanding the West, but he's doing it for different reasons than you seem to understand.
"Which are?"
"Certainly not for his own glory, nor for the sake of any one individual* han."
"Yes, but for the sake of the Tokugawa Bakufu," Hanpeita retorted.
"No, Hanpeita. You're wrong. Both Katsu-sensei and I are working for one thing."
"Which is?"
"I just told you," Ryoma said bluntly. "Japan. And I'll tell you this, too," he suddenly raised his voice, his face stone-serious. "If anything should happen to Katsu Kaishu, I'll personally see to it that those involved pay with their lives."
"Ryoma, let's talk again soon, at a more appropriate place."
"I don't know what more there is to say," Ryoma said sadly, realizing once and for all that the distance between himself and this close friend of his past had grown too great for the two to ever see eye-to-eye again.
"I'll be in Edo for a while longer," Hanpeita said.
"And I suppose you expect me to come to Tosa headquarters so I can be arrested," Ryoma snickered.
"No. I'm staying at the Imperial lodgings in the Ryunokuchi district. You can find me there," said the Shield of the Emperor, then turned around and, without looking back, returned to his palanquin.
Persuasion
A lone ronin strode through the false tranquillity of the darkness guided by the light of a full December moon. Snowflakes floated through the biting cold air, and clung to the eyebrows and tangled hair of the sword-bearing ; outlaw who kept a steady pace up the narrow road winding toward Chifuku , Temple, in the maple-studded hills overlooking the Imperial capital from the northeast. Silence permeated the night. The only sounds were the wind blowing through the trees, the man's steady breathing, a soft and constant pounding inside his head and his firm footsteps on the freshly fallen snow. Suddenly, as he was about to pass through the main gate of the Zen temple, he heard the thrashing of someone approaching at a dead run.
"Heaven's Revenge!" shrieked the assailant. The ronin drew his sword: with lightning speed, intercepting flashing steel just above his left shoulder, as sparks flew in the air.
"Izo!" Ryoma roared, staring straight into his friend's eyes. Izo's eyes had changed since the last time the two had met. The change was overwhelming, and Ryoma felt an awful coldness in them, as the snow continued to fall softly. Ryoma could see in Izo's eyes that he had acquired the knowledge of murder, a knowledge which made him thrive on bloodshed.
"Ryoma?" Izo gasped, his eyes flashing in the moonlight. "What are you doing here?"
Although Ryoma was not inclined to explain, he had recently sailed with Kaishu from Edo to Osaka aboard a Tokugawa warship. The navy commissioner had been assigned the job of escorting a member of the Bakufu's Senior Council to Osaka to investigate how Japan might best deal with a foreign invasion of that city. Inner-turmoil had compelled the government to prepare for such an attack, when and if it carried out its promise to the court of expelling the foreigners. Kaishu reasoned that this would be a good opportunity for Ryoma to get his first experience on a steam-powered warship.
"Izo," Ryoma said, obviously annoyed, "I didn't expect to see any of you until tomorrow." Since Ryoma could not himself go to Tosa headquarters in Kyoto for fear of arrest, he had sent a message earlier in the day to three Tosa Loyalists who were stationed there, asking that they meet him at a nearby inn on the next day. Ryoma intended to recruit these three men for Kaishu's naval academy. "And I didn't expect to see you at all," Ryoma said, his heart filled with both anger and pity for his friend whom Hanpeita had transformed J into a murderer.
"I thought you were someone else," Izo said. "Takechi-sensei is in Edo now, but word had it that a traitor would be here trying to recruit Loyalists to fight on the side of the Bakufu."
"Who told you that?" Ryoma snickered.
"A stranger from Mito came looking for me, you see," Izo said hesitantly, scratching his thick black beard, "while I was, ah....while I was..."
"While you were what?" Ryoma growled impatiently.
As Izo explained, he had been at a brothel earlier in the day-a luxury he had only recently been able to afford-when a stranger came looking for him. "I was with a girl, when this samurai from Mito came barging in asking if I was," Izo paused under Ryoma's hard stare, "asking if I was 'The Butcher.'"
"And what did you tell him, Izo?"
"I said that I was," Izo muttered uncomfortably. "But I sure jumped up quick when I heard him at the door. The first thing I did was grab my sword. I thought he was a Bakufu agent. I was banging away pretty hard, and I sure wouldn't want to get attacked in that position." Izo again paused, then quickly added, "I only do it for Imperial Loyalism, you know," he blankly echoed the words he had recently so often heard from Master Zuizan.
From the crazed look in Izo's eyes, Ryoma now realized that his friend actually believed that by simply murdering people he was serving the Imperialist cause.
"Anyway, this samurai from Mito told me that there was a ronin staying at Chifuku Temple, who was working for Katsu Kaishu, the Tokugawa Navy Commissioner."
"That's me, you stupid idiot!"
"That's you?" Izo gaped blankly. "So you're the one I was supposed to..." he stopped himself short. "But, Ryoma, Takechi-sensei has told us Katsu is..."
"What has Hanpeita been saying about Katsu Kaishu?" Ryoma roared indignantly.
"He says that Katsu is trying to sell out to the barbarians."
"Damn it, Izo. Hanpeita has brainwashed you. Does anyone know that you're here?"
"No. I took it upon myself to come and cut you," Izo paused uneasily. "I mean cut the traitor..."
"I want you to come with me to Edo. Wash your hands of the blood you've shed and start being of some use to Japan."
"What do you mean?" Izo gave Ryoma a blank stare.
"I've never seen you like this. How many people have you killed?"
"Heaven's Revenge? Izo said inanely. "Each one of them got what they deserved."
"Let's talk about that tomorrow with the others," Ryoma said sourly.
"What others?" Izo asked, overcome by a deep-rooted paranoia which Ryoma could read on his contorted face. Izo's paranoia had intensified in degrees with each murder he had committed over the past several months, until now the once fearless swordsman shuddered at the thought of his own blood-lust. He had sold his soul to Takechi Hanpeita for the little bit of gold and glory he received each time he eliminated a potential enemy.
I'm going to meet three Tosa men tomorrow evening," Ryoma said.
"Who?" Izo's eyes opened wide.
"Don't worry, Izo. You know all three of them. They're all members of the Tosa Loyalist Party."
"Why are you going to meet them?"
"I have plans. Big plans." Ryoma spoke softly to Izo, as if to calm his friend's agitated soul. "Meet us at the Sakura Inn tomorrow at noon. We'll talk then," Ryoma said, before leaving Izo alone in the snowy darkness at the temple gate.
Ryoma arrived at the Sakura Inn at noon the next day. He was escorted to a private room on the second floor, where three young Tosa men, whom he had not seen since before he had fled, were waiting for him. One was Takamatsu Taro, the twenty-year-old son of Ryoma's eldest sister and devoted Loyalist. The other two men were both old friends of Ryoma's. Chiya Toranosuke was the son of a village headman in Tosa's Aki district, who had succeeded his father while still in his late teens. Since Toranosuke was endowed with a temperament as mild as the coastal region from which he hailed, his parents never expected him to suddenly abandon his duties as village headman to run with Takechi Hanpeita's band of zealots. But Toranosuke was by no means sheltered from the turbulence of the times. Several uncles and cousins were active in the Loyalist movement, and before long he was under their influence. In 1861, at age nineteen, Toranosuke, along with several cousins, joined the Tosa Loyalist Party. He nevertheless continued his duties as headman of his native village, even after his close friends Sawamura Sonojo and Sakamoto Ryoma had given up hope in Tosa and fled. But when Yoshida Toyo was assassinated in the spring of 1861, Toranosuke begged his father's forgiveness and abandoned his home and family to join Hanpeita's renegades. He arrived in Kyoto in the previous fall, around the time Ryoma had met Katsu Kaishu. In October Toranosuke joined Okada Izo in the grisly murders of two Kyoto merchants suspected of supporting the Bakufu. At the beginning of November he took part in the murder of a Tosa police agent who was looking for the assassins of Yoshida Toyo; and in the middle of the same month he assisted in the murder of the mistress of Ii Naosuke's right-hand man, when the assassins tied to the poor woman to a bamboo post by the riverbank and left her naked to die of exposure. On the next day, Toranosuke's group cut down the woman's son, and displayed his head near the same spot where his mother had been left to die.
The third man whom Ryoma had summoned, Mochizuki Kameyata, was as dedicated to the Imperial cause as the other two. It was Ryoma's intention to convince these three to join a naval academy that he and Kaishu had been planning to establish in Kobe, a small fishing village near Osaka.
Ryoma removed his long sword and sat down with the others. "Where's Izo?" he asked, laying his sword at his right side.
"Izo?" Toranosuke said.
"Yes, the stupid idiot tried to cut me last night. It seems that I have more to worry about from my own friends, than I do from the Tosa police," Ryoma snickered. "I told him to meet us here today, but I guess he's not ready yet."
"What do you mean, 'not ready yet'?" Toranosuke asked.
"Forget it." Ryoma avoided the question, choosing to state his purpose for calling this meeting in a more direct manner.
"You must get out of Kyoto," Taro said. "There are Tosa agents all over this city, and who knows when they might..."
"I'm not worried," Ryoma interrupted his nephew. "But," he paused to look directly into the eyes of each of the three men, "that's why I've called you here today. Tora, Kame," he addressed with diminutives his two close friends who trusted him like an older brother, "I want you to join our navy?" "Your navy?" Tora asked, a puzzled look on his face. "Katsu Kaishu's navy," Ryoma said. The room was suddenly silent, as all three of the younger men stared blankly at Ryoma, who began speaking very deliberately. "I've called you here to ask for your help in bringing down the Bakufu," he paused to stress the significance of his words, "and saving Japan from foreign subjugation."
"Katsu Kaishu is a traitor," Kame shouted indignantly. "He's sold out to the barbarians. And now you too have changed sides. You say you want to bring down the Bakufu to save Japan from the barbarians, but you're working for a Tokugawa lackey."
Ryoma gave all three men a hard look. "Before we go any further, let's get some things straight. I haven't changed sides, and I'm not working for a Tokugawa lackey. I'm working for the greatest man in Japan, who I myself considered killing just a few months ago. Katsu Kaishu has sent me to recruit good men who are willing to learn how to operate a warship. We're starting a naval academy and I want the three of you to join."
"If you're working for Katsu, then I guess we can assume that you support Opening the Country" Tora said. "That's right," Ryoma said bluntly.
"But how can you support Opening the Country and at the same time claim that you want to save Japan from the barbarians?" "Do you trust me?" Ryoma asked.
"Of course we trust you. Do you think we'd be sitting here if we didn't? But what you're saying just doesn't make any sense."
"Let me ask all of you this next question," Ryoma said. "How do you suggest protecting Japan from foreign invasion?" None of the three could answer.
"Just as I thought," Ryoma snickered. "There are too many people ranting and raving about expelling the barbarians," Ryoma echoed Kaishu's words, "but nobody seems to have any concrete ideas of how to do it. And that's where Katsu Kaishu comes in. He says that we must open the country for as long as it takes us to acquire the proper military and industrial technology to defend ourselves. Which means that we Japanese have to stop fighting among ourselves, and cooperate to build a powerful and wealthy nation. We need ships, and a lot of them, and men like us with the guts to man them. We need a powerful navy so that we can have the freedom to control our own destiny as a united nation."
"But Katsu is a Tokugawa official," Kame said indignantly. "His only concern is for the House of Tokugawa. He doesn't give a damn about the rest of the nation."
"Kame!" Tora burst out, "don't you understand what Ryoma is saying?" ;
"Kame," Ryoma said, lowering his voice, "have you ever asked Katsu about that? Have you ever met with him to confront him with your opinionated ideas?"
"Of course not. But you can't really believe that a direct retainer of the
Tokugawa is going to accept a crew of anti-Bakufu Loyalists. Katsu is an
elite Bakufu official, and in his eyes we're a bunch of lowly..." '
"Have you ever heard of Abraham Lincoln?" Ryoma uttered the name he had heard Kaishu often speak of.
"Who?"
"The president of the United States of America."
"No."
"Lincoln claims that all men are equal, regardless of class, race or color.'
"Color?"
"Some Americans are black, others white, some have golden hair, others brown, some red."
All three men remained silent, listening intently to Ryoma.
"For years white men in America have used black men as slaves, much like the samurai in Japan use the peasants. But Lincoln, who himself is white, is fighting a civil war to free the black men because the Declaration of Independence of the United States dictates that all men are created equal regardless of race or color." Despite his efforts, Ryoma was unable to make his three friends comprehend these very foreign ideas which had so captivated his mind over the past few months.
"What is the president of the United States of America?" Kame asked.
"Forget it," Ryoma groaned. "But just believe me when I say that Katsu is not concerned with birthright. We must rid ourselves of such outdated decrepit ideas."
"It doesn't make sense," Kame argued. "Katsu's not going to be willing to teach military techniques to men who are intent on bringing down the ve; regime which he represents."
"Leave that to me," Ryoma said with confidence. "Katsu has entrusted me with the job of recruiting good men for his navy. And I'm asking you three to join me." Ryoma pleaded, pounding his fist on the floor. "If instead': of joining me, you go and get yourselves killed, like you're liable to do i you're not very careful, I'll be the one who's angry," he hollered. "We are just as important to Japan as anyone else, and probably even more so than most people. It's men like us, who have ambition and ideals, that Katsu needs to help him."
* * *
After recruiting three more Tosa men-Sonojo, who was now in Kyoto serving as a samurai of the court; Umanosuke, the peasant's son; and Chojiro, the bean jam bun maker's son, the latter two having been students of Kawada Shoryo and therefore easy for Ryoma to convince-Ryoma brought all six men to join Kaishu at the Port of Hyogo, just west of Osaka, to sail to Edo aboard a Western-built Tokugawa warship, the Jundo Maru.
The Jundo Maru set sail with all aboard, flying the Tokugawa crest of three hollyhock leaves in a circle, on the cold overcast morning of January 13 1863. From Hyogo the ship sailed south across Osaka Bay, down through the Kii Strait, then out to the Pacific, where she made an eastward arc around the province of Kii. From here they sailed for two days, until rough waters forced them to land in the Port of Shimoda, on the Izu Peninsula, less than a day's journey to Edo.
"Ryoma!" Kaishu called his right-hand man up to the deck. "See that," he said, pointing at a schooner anchored in port.
"A ship," Ryoma said in a noncommittal tone.
"Well, I'm glad to see that you are so observant," the navy commissioner laughed. "She's flying the three oak leaves of the Yamanouchi crest."
"Yes," Ryoma remarked bluntly, squinting uncomfortably at the schooner. "I didn't know Tosa had a real ship," he sneered. Then, in the same breath, as if to change the unpleasant subject, "Look, you can see Ohshima," he said, pointing eastward at the largest of seven islands off the Izu coast.
"She's not a Tosa ship," Kaishu informed.
"Oh?"
"She belongs to Fukuoka Han, but she's carrying Lord Yodo."
Ryoma remained silent, staring out at the island, his right hand tucked into his kimono, his long hair blowing in the wind.
"I know how you feel about Tosa," Kaishu said consolingly. "I know that you don't give a damn about Tosa Han, and I don't blame you. But I think I'll pay Lord Yodo a visit anyway."
Yamanouchi Yodo had set sail from Edo on the previous day aboard a wooden schooner he had chartered from Fukuoka Han, through the good offices of the Tokugawa Navy. This was the first time the retired Tosa daimyo had left the capital since being placed under house arrest by Ii Naosuke four and a half years ago. He was planning to stop in Kyoto on his return to Kochi, which was to be his first time home in six years, but was detained in Shimoda by rough seas. Yodo's chief motive for returning to Kochi at this particular time was to suppress the Tosa Loyalist Party. Not only was Yodo convinced that he knew more about the times, had a better knowledge of history and a superior political sense than any other daimyo in Japan (with the admitted exception of his friends Matsudaira Shungaku and Hitotsubashi Yoshinobu), but he was also determined to make Takechi Hanpeita and the other murderers of his favorite retainer pay for his great loss. Nor was Yodo about to let a lower-samurai continue his de facto rule over Tosa policy. But perhaps the most significant reason for Yodo's determination to suppress the Tosa Loyalists was his inability to side against the Bakufu for the favor his ancestor fifteen generations past had received from the first Tokugawa Shogun.
Yodo and Kaishu were old acquaintances, and indeed the navy commissioner was one of the few men in the Edo government whom the Outside Lord of Tosa truly respected. Not only did both men possess grandiose egos, but they shared some basic ideas. They agreed on the importance of strengthening the nation through foreign trade, military buildup and recruiting men of ability Unlike Kaishu, however, the elitist Lord of Tosa was absolutely unwilling to fill important government posts from the ranks of the lower-samurai, and certainly not the commoners.
Kaishu appeared at Yodo's lodgings at Hofukuji temple at the Hour of the Horse, just after noon in Western reckoning. He stepped up from a stone platform, onto the wooden verandah which surrounded the spacious apartment,
overlooking a meticulously cared for garden. The navy commissioner wore a black jacket displaying the four-petaled Katsu family crest, a kimono of the same color, dark brown hakama, and a black soldier's helmet, flat on top
with a rim that curved slightly upward. The inner side of the rim was painted gold, a style reserved solely for direct retainers of the Shogun. At Kaishu's left hip hung two swords in wax-colored sheaths, their hilts so tightly tied to
the scabbards that they could not readily be drawn.
"Well, what a surprise," Yodo exclaimed at the sight of his old friend. The self-styled Drunken Lord of the Sea of Whales was sitting alone on the floor in front of the alcove of a spacious tatami room, a small black lacquered table set before him. He was drinking sake, as was his custom every afternoon. Yodo's slightly pock-marked, heavyset face was blushed from drinM| and tiny blood vessels were visible around his nose, but his features, and the way he held his mouth, betrayed his noble lineage. He wore a kimono of gray silk, a black jacket displaying the Yamanouchi crest, and hakama of reddish brown satin. His pate was cleanly shaven, his topknot folded neatly forward.
The piercing dark eyes of the thirty-six-year-old Lord of Tosa showed sf
sharp intellect and strong spirit. "I'm glad you've come, Katsu-sensei," he began speaking in a slightly hurried manner, displaying bad teeth. "I've been wanting to speak with someone intelligent. There are just too many stupid
people in this world nowadays."
"Good to see you again." Kaishu bowed slightly, then removed his helmet and swords. "And good to see that you haven't lost your sense of humor," he said drolly.
"Please come in, Katsu-sensei." Yodo, already quite drunk on this cold winter afternoon, was genuinely glad to see the navy commissioner. "WhJ
the sudden visit?" he asked. "Ah, but never mind that for now. Sit down and let's have some sake together," he insisted, although he knew that Kaishu rarely drank.
A maid set another small table for the guest, and Yodo handed Kaishu m red crystal glass, the scene of a reindeer in a snowy forest engraved in white around the sides. "This is my favorite sake cup," Yodo said. "I only offer it to my most respected friends, and only on special occasions." The Drunken Lord of the Sea of Whales poured Kaishu a drink from a gourd flask.
"What's the special occasion?" Kaishu asked with an amused grin.
"If my memory hasn't failed me, I believe this is the first time that you and I have ever drank together."
"It's beautiful," Kaishu remarked, holding the glass up to the sunlight.
"It's French," Yodo said. "A gift from a merchant in Nagasaki."
Kaishu breathed deeply. "Ah, yes. The French make a lot of nice things." Then in a more solemn tone he added, "Like warships and guns." Kaishu grinned again. "But I prefer the British and Dutch warships to those of the French, don't you Lord Yodo?"
"Yes, warships," Yodo said, looking hard into Kaishu's eyes. "We must have some serious discussion on that subject very soon."
And very soon the two men were discussing the many crises which faced the nation. Although Yodo agreed openly with Kaishu's support for foreign trade in order to build the economy and strengthen the military, the self-styled "poet warrior" could just as readily, when the occasion demanded, argue for "expelling the filthy barbarians for the sake of the sacred Emperor." "Katsu-sensei," he said, "it's unfortunate that there are so many fools in Edo, who until recently were not able to see things your way. But here, have another drink," he insisted, refilling the red crystal glass. "Good sake is the best condiment for discussion. And, likewise, good discussion is the best condiment for good sake. Besides, of course, a pretty wench," the Tosa daimyo added with a roar of laughter.
"Well, Lord Yodo," Kaishu said, pausing to accept another glassful, "you know I'm not such a good drinker. But the taste of sake is always enhanced by good company," he said, then drained the glass. "And this is the best sake I've had in a long time," Kaishu continued flattering the Drunken Lord of the Sea of Whales. "Here, allow me," he said, pouring a drink for his host.
"Ah, but you've become quite a good drinker," Yodo said.
"By the way, Lord Yodo," Kaishu said, "I've come to see you today for a specific purpose."
"Well, I'm certainly glad to hear that!" Yodo said, then reached over and slapped Kaishu on the back. "There are too many men these days walking around with no purpose at all. Like I've heard you say before," Yodo burst out laughing again, "there are just too many stupid daimyo and Bakufu officials these days whose heads are like potatoes on which they so meticulously tie their topknots."
"I've always appreciated your scathing humor," Kaishu said approvingly. 'Oh, I nearly forgot," he added nonchalantly. "I have a small favor to ask of you."
"Sure, anything! Anything at all!" Yodo roared amicably. "What is it?" "I've recently recruited several good men to work under me. The best of them is from your great han." Kaishu was careful not to tell Yodo at this Particular time that indeed all of his newfound disciples were from Tosa. "Is that so?" Yodo exclaimed with obvious interest. "What's his name?"
"Sakamoto Ryoma."
"Sakamoto Ryoma?" Yodo repeated. "Never heard of him."
"I doubted you had, Lord Yodo. He's just a lower-samurai," Kaishu said with a forced smile.
"Well then, you might as well keep him," Yodo scoffed. "He's all yours."
"Ah, yes," Kaishu cleared his throat, "I appreciate your generosity. But Ryoma has left Tosa without permission, and...you know, it makes it very inconvenient to work with a man who is in constant danger of being arrested."
"And what do you propose I do?" Yodo asked sourly.
"I'd appreciate it if you could pardon him, along with another Tosa man by the name of Sawamura Sonojo. They're both good men, dedicated to helping me develop a navy."
"Are you quite sure you know what you're doing?" Yodo asked.
"I'm certain," Kaishu said with complete confidence.
"Well then," Yodo groaned, "as long as you do, and you promise to watch over them to be sure that they don't cause any more trouble, I suppose I could do this favor for you. Consider both of them pardoned," he said with a backhanded gesture.
"Thank you very much," Kaishu said with a slight bow of the head. "But, in all due respect, since we have been drinking, I hope you wouldn't mindf my asking for something I could take away with me today, as a memento of''' your promise."
"Very well," Yodo said, then held his hands above his head, and clapped three times. Momentarily a young samurai appeared. "Yes, My Lord?" the samurai said, bowing deeply.
"Bring my writing brush and inkstone," Yodo said.
"Yes, My Lord." The samurai bowed again, and left the room, returning shortly with the writing utensils.
Yodo took a white paper fan from his sash, opened it wide, and in long, graceful strokes drew a simple likeness in black ink of the gourd flask on the table in front of him. Inside the drawing of the flask he wrote several Chinese characters, and placed the open fan on the floor before Kaishu. "How's that?'" he asked, apparently pleased with himself.
Kaishu picked up the fan, the black ink still wet. The message inside the flask read: "Drunk, three hundred-sixty days a year" and was signed, "Drunken Lord of the Sea of Whales."
"This is fine," Kaishu said with an amused grin. Then after the ink had dried, he gently refolded the fan and put it safely in his pocket.
* * *
Besides Katsu Kaishu, Ryoma had another, even higher ranking admirer within the Tokugawa hierarchy. This was Matsudaira Shungaku, the retired Lord of Fukui, whose new post as political director of the Bakufu made himj the most powerful man in the Edo government. Like Yodo and several other' influential lords, Shungaku had suffered under Ii Naosuke's Great Purge, but was restored to shogunal grace after the death of the regent. Unlike Yodo, however, who as an outside lord was neither a direct vassal nor relative of the Shogun, the Lord of Fukui-whose Matsudaira family crest displayed the three hollyhock leaves of the Tokugawa-was a direct descendant of the second son of the first Tokugawa Shogun. The Fukui daimyo ranked seventh among all feudal lords in Japan, exceeded only by the heads of the six Tokugawa Branch Houses. But unlike most of his colleagues, Lord Shungaku was highly regarded by the Loyalists, both at court and among the han.
Although Shungaku did not possess Yodo's unyielding disposition, the two men were close friends. Indeed they shared some very redeeming features, not the least of which were their reputations as two of the four most able feudal lords of their time. Despite his position of power and sharp intellect, Shungaku, unlike Yodo, was not wont to pompous display or elitism. Rather, the Lord of Fukui resembled another close colleague, Katsu Kaishu, in his readiness to accept men of ability, regardless of lineage. It had been the political director himself who had written a letter of introduction to Kaishu for a mere ronin, because, as he had pointed out, he estimated "Sakamoto to be a youth of great character and potential" albeit Chiba Jutaro's name value certainly was a contributing factor.
Ryoma and Kondo Chojiro, the bean jam bun maker's son whom Ryoma had recently recruited, visited Lord Shungaku at his Edo headquarters shortly after the Jundo Maru anchored in Edo Bay. Although Chojiro had been born a commoner, his scholastic achievements, not to mention service under Kaishu, convinced the Tosa authorities to promote him to samurai rank, entitling him to wear the two swords, take a family name and receive a monthly stipend.
The two Tosa men identified themselves to the guards at the iron-studded oaken outer gate, and were presently escorted to the reception chamber of the retired Fukui daimyo. At age thirty-six, Lord Shungaku had a light complexion, wide forehead, small eyes, and slender face, which was well complemented by his small jaw. His features were such that, when the occasion demanded, he had been able to pass himself off as a woman. During the days that he and Yodo had been campaigning for Yoshinobu to succeed the Shogun, Shungaku had more than once been obliged to secretly meet Yodo at his Edo villa, disguised as a woman and traveling in a woman's palanquin. Upon one such occasion, when Yodo remarked with a perfectly straight face that Shungaku was so beautiful he "would like to strip him naked," the Lord of Fukui was unable to appreciate his friend's caustic sense of humor.
Ryoma and Chojiro sat in the formal position in Shungaku's reception chamber, waiting for the great man to grant them an audience. Shungaku, who had just returned from a meeting with the Shogun in Edo Castle, entered the room unattended. He was dressed elegantly in a dark blue kimono, gray hakama, and a vest of hempen cloth which covered his shoulders like wings, in the ceremonial style of a feudal lord. In several places on the vest appeared the crest of three hollyhock leaves, the symbol of the mighty Tokugawa and Matsudaira families. Ryoma and Chojiro bowed from where they sat, and' Shungaku sat down facing them.
"Lord Shungaku, this is Kondo Chojiro, Tosa samurai and student of Katsu Kaishu," Ryoma introduced his friend.
Chojiro bowed deeply, extending his hands outward and touching his forehead to the floor.
Shungaku casually greeted the two men. "Relax," he said, gesturing for them to sit comfortably. Such was the magnanimous character of the most powerful man in the Tokugawa government. "I hear from Katsu that you've just come from Kyoto."
"Yes, we've been recruiting men to work under Katsu-sensei," Ryoma replied.
"Katsu has also told me that he spoke to Lord Yodo about you."
"Yes," Ryoma acknowledged with a slight bow of the head.
"Lord Yodo and I are old friends," Shungaku said. "I will be leaving for Osaka soon, and that's why I've called you here today. How would you like me to talk to him? I'm sure I can convince him to pardon you for fleeing Tosa."
"Why not?" Ryoma said nonchalantly.
The remark must have struck Shungaku as very funny, because the instant-Ryoma finished speaking, he burst out laughing. "Why not?" Shungaku said. "In that case, I think I will."
Impressed with Ryoma's straightforwardness, Shungaku met Yodo shortly after at Tosa headquarters in Kyoto, where he discussed Ryoma's case. Having made the same promise to Shungaku as he had to Kaishu, Yodo soon arranged for Ryoma's pardon. Near the end of February a notice was issued from the Tosa administrative office in Kochi, pardoning Sakamoto Ryoma for his crime, exactly eleven months and one day after he had fled.
Early next morning, Ryoma and Chojiro boarded the Jundo Maru with Kaishu to sail for Osaka. Ryoma was anxious to recruit more men foff Kaishu's naval academy, and was particularly concerned about Okada Izo, whom he had not seen since his friend had mistakenly attacked him in Kyoto during the previous month.
Ryoma had recently heard of another series of murders accredited to Izo, the most piteous of which was that of a celebrated Confucian scholar named Ikeuchi Daigaku. A longtime champion of Imperial Loyalism, Ikeuchi had during Ii Naosuke's purge renounced his radical convictions to escape execution, thus damning himself in the eyes of his fellow Loyalists.
One evening in January, Lord Yodo, who was on his way to Kyoto after having met Kaishu in Shimoda, invited Ikeuchi to his Osaka residence to drink sake, discuss politics, and view some paintings and pieces of calligraphy. After several hours of drinking with Yodo, the Confucian scholar left Tosa headquarters shortly past midnight. The moonless winter night was pitch-black as his palanquin reached Nanbabashi bridge, and Ikeuchi and the four bearers were startled by a thrashing sound from behind.
''Heaven's Revenge" Izo roared, threw open the sedan door, and thrust his sword through Ikeuchi's throat. The four palanquin bearers dropped their load and fled, as the former champion of anti-foreign Loyalism choked on his own blood. Izo immediately pulled his victim from the sedan. "This is for your betrayal," screamed "The Butcher," then with a single stroke beheaded him. The next morning the head was found mounted on Nanbabashi bridge, with a note stating that Ikeuchi had been executed for selling out to corrupt officials. When the ears were sent, wrapped in oiled paper, to the homes of two Bakufu sympathizers at court, the terrified Imperial officials promptly resigned their posts.
On the eighth day of the following month, Takechi's top hit man committed a similar murder of a peasant who was accused of having relations with a traitor to the Loyalist cause. The severed head was disposed of at Tosa headquarters in Kyoto, where Yodo had been staying since his recent return to the Imperial capital. With the head was a note which urged the Tosa daimyo to support Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism. But, needless to say, Yodo reacted much differently than did the two terrified court nobles who had received Ikeuchi's severed ears the month before. "After cutting down a man who had been a guest at my home," Yodo fumed, "a band of lower-samurai from my own domain have dared to threaten me with the useless murder of a peasant." The wrath of the "poet warrior" was about to be unleashed.
Ryoma's uncanny sense of timing was again at work when he dispatched Chojiro to Hanpeita's headquarters in Kyoto with a message for Izo, asking his friend to meet him at the Teradaya inn in nearby Fushimi. Just before Chojiro arrived with Ryoma's message, Izo had had a falling out with Hanpeita. Recently, Izo had been unable to sleep, haunted by images in his mind of the faces of the myriad people he had cut down over the past six months. He had been living on sake and women, and had become so dependent on the whims of Master Zuizan that for the past three or four sleepless nights he had experienced waken nightmares of being betrayed by his unfathomable master. Since the previous summer when Hanpeita had given him his first chance to perform Heaven's Revenge, and thus "contribute to the Loyalists' cause," Izo had doubted the true intentions of his master, even suspecting that Hanpeita would have "no need for me after I've performed my purpose." The uneducated swordsman had always felt uncomfortably awed in the company of the sophisticated sword master. Although Izo's skill with an unsheathed sword was unequaled by even Hanpeita himself, he could not begin to fathom the depths of the Loyalist Party leader. Nor was Izo able to comprehend Hanpeita's lust for power; and over the past few months Izo had become entangled in Hanpeita's web of murder. In the beginning, killing had given Izo a tremendous feeling of power, a result of a deep-rooted inferiority complex. He had never been invited to officially join the Loyalist Party, and until he had found Heaven's Revenge there was only one thing in life that Izo could really be proud of: his swordsmanship. Heaven s Revenge gave him a way to put his sword to use. Each time he carried out Hanpeita's cold-blooded will he was rewarded with a bit of gold and the good graces of his master. But recently, the rush of power Izo had originally experienced when killing had all but vanished, leaving him with an empty feeling instead. Murder to Izo was like a drug: having overindulged he had grown immune to its effect. With this came insomnia, and Izo had grown extremely irritable. Trivial things-like the high-pitched voice of the harlot he had been with this evening-grated on his nerves. And when he returned to Hanpeita's headquarters, Master Zuizan was waiting with a look of vexation on his pale face.
"Izo!" Hanpeita roared, "I thought I told you to report here earlier this evening. I have another important-assignment for you, and you've kept me waiting for hours."
"I'm sorry," Izo muttered, avoiding Hanpeita steely gaze. "I guess it kind of slipped my mind."
"Slipped your mind?" Hanpeita gave Izo a sinister look. "When I give you an order, Izo, you're to follow it like a dog."
Something inside Izo's head flashed like the silver-blue light from a drawn sword. A creature of emotion, Izo had never considered his actions from a moral viewpoint. Wild by nature, Izo had no philosophy; matters of thought he had left to others. But Hanpeita's web of murder was starting to get the best of him. Even a wild animal will not kill without reason, and Izo was no different. His ultimate reason for bloodshed had been to carry out the will of his master, who was now calling him a dog.
"Then I'm through, damn you," Izo spewed in a fit of anger. "Nobody calls Okada Izo a dog," he roared at the top of his voice, and before Izo realized the true effect of his words, Hanpeita had already decided his fate.
"That's right, Izo," Master Zuizan calmly acquiesced. "You're through."
Tongue-tied, Izo only stared at Hanpeita in wide-eyed horror.
"Now, get out of here, Izo," Hanpeita snarled. Then, with a sinister smile, he added, "And don't come back until you are willing to accept that you are indeed my dog."
Unable to draw his sword on his master, Izo turned around, ran out of the house in a frenzy, when at the front gate he encountered Chojiro carrying a message from Ryoma. With nowhere else to turn, this creature of emotion said he would be more than happy to accept Ryoma's offer to join him under Katsu Kaishu. After all, Izo's actions had never been a matter of morality.
* * *
"I must see Sakamoto Ryoma," a samurai demanded at the front entrance of the Teradaya inn, on the day after Ryoma had sent his message to Izo. As the samurai spoke with a Tosa accent, the proprietress, Otose, assumed that he was a Tosa agent come to arrest Ryoma. Recently Ryoma had been staying at the Teradaya whenever he was in Kyoto, and had developed a close relationship with Otose, a woman in her early thirties who treated Ryoma like a younger brother.
"I'm sorry, but there's nobody here by that name," Otose lied.
"Kame!" Ryoma hollered from the second floor, atop a dark wooden staircase.
"Ryoma," Otose said in a flustered voice, "you must..."
"Don't worry," Ryoma interrupted, "he's a friend of mine."
"Ryoma, you've been pardoned," Mochizuki Kameyata said excitedly. "You don't have to worry about being arrested anymore. I've just come from Tosa headquarters in Kyoto with orders to bring you back."
"Orders to bring me back!" Ryoma shouted, racing down the stairway to the same dark wooden floor which had been the scene of the bloodbath among Satsuma men only ten months before. "I'm not going to Tosa headquarters to be locked up," he snarled. "Do you think I'm an idiot?" Ryoma stopped short, recalling that Kaishu had spoken to the Tosa daimyo on his behalf, and that Lord Shungaku had promised to do so. "I've been pardoned?" he said calmly.
"Yes. Do you think I'd be telling you this if you hadn't? All you have to do is stay at Tosa headquarters for seven days, and you'll be officially cleared."
"Seven days!" Ryoma growled.
"Yes. And one more thing," Kame said. "Izo is at the barracks at Tosa headquarters, waiting for you to arrive. Chojiro's with him."
"Alright, Kame," Ryoma said, shaking his head in disgust. "I'll go."
Much to his chagrin, Ryoma served his sentence of seven days under confinement at Tosa headquarters, during which time he complained daily to Kame. He detested the idea of being forced to stay in one place, especially now that Kaishu's plans for a private naval academy were starting to materialize.
When Ryoma was released from custody a week later, he was no longer an outlaw, but a Tosa samurai with official permission to study navigation under the Tokugawa Navy Commissioner. Upon his release, he went directly to Izo's barrack room. "Izo," he said, sitting cross-legged on the floor, "how many people have you killed for Hanpeita?"
"I never counted," Izo muttered. "But I did it for the cause," he said blankly.
"There's no cause in killing for the sake of killing," Ryoma sneered. "Let's go. I'm going to introduce you to the greatest man in Japan. He's in Kyoto right now."
"You're talking about Katsu, right?"
"Right! And it's going to be your responsibility to see that nothing happens to him," Ryoma demanded.
"My responsibility?"
"Yes. I think you'll find it a lot more rewarding to put your sword to some positive use for a change."
"But Katsu's a traitor."
Ryoma gave Izo a hard look. "Do you trust me, Izo?"
"Of course!"
"Then guard Katsu Kaishu with your life. It's as simple as that." Ryoma was aware of the futility of trying to explain things too deeply to Izo.
Shortly after, Ryoma and Izo arrived at the Kyoto headquarters of Kii Han, where Kaishu was lodging. "Sakamoto Ryoma of Tosa," Ryoma growled at several samurai watching guard at the iron-studded oaken outer gate. Kii was one of the elite Three Tokugawa Branch Houses, and although Ryoma was dedicated to the commissioner of the Tokugawa Navy and had even earned the trust of the Lord of Fukui, who was a close relative of the Shogun, he could not overcome his enmity for Kii Han. "I've come to see Katsu Kaishu," he snarled.
As Kaishu had left word at the guardhouse that he was expecting Ryoma, the two Tosa men were immediately escorted to Kaishu's quarters.
Kaishu sat at a desk, studying a book on Western military science written in Dutch. "Come in, Ryoma. I've been expecting you," he said, closing the book.
"Katsu-sensei," Ryoma said, glancing at Izo, "this is Okada Izo, your new bodyguard."
"Okada..." Kaishu, despite his usually cool disposition, swallowed his words. "You don't mean the same..." he again stopped himself short. Kaishu had heard of the notorious "Butcher," and of the many Bakufu supporters he had allegedly cut down.
"Yes, Sensei. Izo's an old friend of mine from Kochi. You won't have to worry about your safety with Izo guarding you," Ryoma assured. "There aren't too many men who can beat Izo with a sword."
Kaishu was at first dumbfounded, but so great was his trust for Ryoma, the navy commissioner accepted the notorious assassin. "I need your help, Ryoma," Kaishu said.
Izo stared at Kaishu, as if mesmerized. He couldn't believe that the Tokugawa Navy Commissioner was actually asking Ryoma for help.
"What is it?" Ryoma asked.
"I'm extremely concerned about the British warships on high alert at Yokohama. I've just come from Edo, and believe me, Japan is in grave danger."
In compensation for the murder of the English merchant Richardson by Satsuma men during the previous year at Namamugi, the British government presented the Bakufu with the following four demands: (1) a public apology for the incident; (2) an indemnity for the amount of 100,000 pounds to be paid by Edo to London; (3) indemnities of 25,000 pounds from Satsuma to Richardson's family and to the three Britons injured in the attack; (4) the arrest and execution of the assassin(s) in the presence of British officers. These demands were, in effect, an ultimatum to war with the British, who had recently increased their fleet of warships at Yokohama to the awesome number of twelve.
"The British have enough firepower there to destroy the whole coastline," Kaishu said with worried eyes. "And they are only a few hours away from Edo. If they decide to attack the capital, you know as well as I do that all hell will break loose. There's no saying how many tens of thousands of people will be killed." "Will the Bakufu pay?" Ryoma asked.
"They have no choice, although I doubt Satsuma will cooperate. But that's exactly why I've summoned you here."
"You want me to use my influence with Takechi Hanpeita and Kusaka Genzui to persuade the Loyalists not to interfere in the matter?" It was common knowledge that the xenophobic radicals preferred war to the disgrace of yielding to the British demands. "No," Kaishu said. "Not at this point, anyway." "Then, what is it?"
"Now that there is no worry of you being arrested," Kaishu said, "I want you to concentrate all your energy on recruiting as many men as possible for a navy. The more the better." "Of course, Sensei. That's what I've been doing." "I know, and I appreciate your effort. But we must work fast, Ryoma. Time is of the essence. The fate of Japan is on our shoulders." Kaishu paused, then unrolled a scroll that lay on the desk. "Here, take a look at this," he said, handing it to Ryoma. "My plans for a Japanese Navy that will protect the entire country, if I can only convince those stupid potato-heads in Edo. We have to start concentrating on a mobile navy of warships, rather than merely constructing batteries along the coast like we've been doing for so long."
Ryoma unrolled the scroll and began reading aloud. "'The maritime defense of Japan should be covered by six naval bases to be established in the following natural harbors: Edo, for the defense of the east coast of the main island of Honshu; Hakodate, on the far-northern island ofEzo, to defend northeastern Japan; Niigata, to defend the northwestern coastline; Shimonoseki, at the southwestern tip of Honshu, to assure control of that strategic strait; Osaka, to protect western Japan; and Nagasaki, to defend the far-western regions.'" Ryoma paused, took a deep breath and continued reading. "'Each one of these bases should be fortified with its own squadron, while those in Edo and Osaka should have additional reserve fleets on hand. Each squadron should consist of three frigates, nine corvettes, and a certain number of smaller steam vessels. The Japanese fleet protecting the entire archipelago should thus consist of a total of 370 vessels,"'' Ryoma's voice cracked as he read the enormous figure. "Three hundred seventy," he repeated incredulously. "There aren't anywhere near that number of Western-style ships in all of Japan!"
"That's right," the navy commissioner said, giving Ryoma an unusually stern look. "But the only way we can survive is by building a navy of our own which is as strong as those of the great Western powers."
"I'll do my best," Ryoma said. "But for now, please keep Izo with you at all times."
One evening in late March, just two weeks after Ryoma had assigned I to protect Kaishu, the navy commissioner was attending a meeting at Nijo Castle, the Shogun's fortress in Kyoto. The meeting lasted until after dark and when Kaishu finally appeared at the main outer gate of the castle, Izo was waiting for him as usual.
"Let's go, Izo," Kaishu said in a low voice.
"It's late, Sensei," Izo muttered, as the two men walked from the castle into the Kyoto night. "Please be sure to stay right by me," Izo implored. The half moon was barely visible in the cloudy sky. Izo, carrying a lantern, stayed close behind Kaishu, as they turned left down Horikawa Road, with the castle moat on their immediate left, and Fukui headquarters directly across the road on their right. A few minutes later, as the two men were about to right onto Marutamachi Road, which ran just south of the Imperial Palace, light rain began to fall.
"Izo," Kaishu began speaking, "how many men have you killed?"
"Ah..."
Before Izo could speak, there was a thrashing sound of someone runnings straight at them, and both men stopped short in their tracks.
"Heaven's Revengel" a voice screamed in the darkness.
Throwing the lantern into the gutter on the side of the road, Izo immediately drew his sword. "This is Okada Izo of Tosa!" he roared. Blue light, flashed off his blade, and a fraction of a second later the screech of steel cutting through bone pierced Kaishu's ears. "This is Okada Izo of Tosa," he repeated, "but you might know me better as 'The Butcher.'" Izo's warning must have worked, because after he had cut down his second opponent, as third man could be heard running in the opposite direction, the only other sound the steady falling of the rain.
Izo had killed two Loyalist extremists without feeling a bit of remorse, although he himself had been one of them only two weeks before. The thought never crossed his mind. With a sword in his hand, Izo was like a wild -animal. Cerebral reflection was not a part of his action. He left all matters of thought to those in charge. Until recently Takechi Hanpeita had done Izo's' thinking; now Izo was simply following the orders of Sakamoto Ryoma. Morality for Izo depended on the outcome of the fight-clean and simple.
Izo wiped the blood from his sword on a piece of soft paper he carried for this purpose, threw it into the gutter, and slid the blade back into his sheath. Without a word, the two men continued walking through the dark streets of," Kyoto, the only sounds their footsteps in the mud, and the steady falling of the rain. Kaishu's hakama was stained with blood. This was the first time he had ever seen a man cut down, or been attacked himself. Despite a surge of nausea, Kaishu, determined to maintain his composure, walked silently beside Izo for the next ten minutes. "Izo," he finally said, unable to contain himself any longer, "you seem to get a thrill out of killing."
Izo offered no reply.
"You'd better change your ways, Izo," Kaishu admonished. "Depending
0n the circumstances, a truly great man might let himself be cut before cutting someone else."
Izo still did not answer.
"Izo, don't you have anything so say?" Kaishu asked, obviously annoyed.
"I don't understand," Izo said indignantly.
"What don't you understand? That killing's not good?"
"But, Katsu-sensei, in all due respect, if I hadn't killed those two, your head would no longer be on your shoulders."
Not even the smooth rhetorician Katsu Kaishu had an answer for this remark. But when Kaishu would recall the event years later, he would praise Izo, saying: "I escaped from the mouth of a tiger, but it was only because of Okada's quick reactions."
* * *
Takechi Hanpeita's Tosa Loyalists, in league with the radicals from Choshu and Satsuma, had controlled and terrorized Kyoto for the past year. The Loyalists enjoyed the support of Sanjo Sanetomi and Anenokoji Kintomo, two young but lately influential court nobles, who in turn owed their rise to power to the Loyalists' reign of terror. Both were ardent xenophobes, and Sanjo, related by marriage to the Lord of Tosa, naturally attracted the Tosa radicals.
As Loyalist dominance over the Imperial capital increased, Bakufu prestige and power in Kyoto waned. While Ryoma helped Kaishu organize a naval academy, Hanpeita used his influence among the Loyalists to rise to the forefront of the Kyoto infrastructure. Not only did he control a death squad in Kyoto, but through the auspices of Sanjo and Anenokoji, he had even gained influence over the Imperial Court itself. After returning with the two court nobles from their recent trip to Edo, Hanpeita was promoted to the distinguished post of director of Tosa headquarters in Kyoto, and consequently to the rank of upper-samurai. This was indeed the golden age of Master Zuizan, until the beginning of the third year of the Era of Bunkyu, 1863, when Lord Yodo reemerged in the Imperial capital after nearly five years of political paralysis at his villa in Edo.
Around this time Ryoma paid a visit to Takechi Hanpeita. The two had not met for nearly six months, and Ryoma was anxious to warn Hanpeita of the imminent danger facing the Tosa radicals.
"Ryoma, come in," Hanpeita said, genuinely glad at the unexpected reunion. The Shield of the Emperor was sitting in his room with another Tosa Loyalist named Kamioka Tanji. At age thirty-nine, this self-styled "Child of the Storm" was one of the oldest among Hanpeita's followers. His clothes, swarthy complexion and thick black beard well suited his nom de guerre, and the nihilism in his dark eyes reflected his lack of concern for worldly gain. He wore only a thin kimono of coarse brown cotton, and his long shaggy hair hung down to his shoulders. Tanji was typical in his unyielding determination to destroy the existing mode of things, but was unconcerned with the form of government or society which would result from revolution. When Ryoma joined them, Hanpeita and Tanji were discussing tactics. Now that the opportunity for advancement in Kyoto politics had presented itself, Hanpeita was looking for alternative ways to finance his subversive activi-ties, which had been stifled lately with his appointment as director of Tosa headquarters. Lord Yodo, who was determined to suppress the Loyalists, had assigned Hanpeita to the important post only to prevent intrigue between the; Loyalist leader, whom he strongly suspected was responsible for the murder of Yoshida Toyo, and other radicals in Kyoto. Hanpeita's lust for power, f however, had grown so intense that he refused to realize this plain fact, insisting rather that Yodo was an. Imperial Loyalist at heart.
Having greeted Ryoma, Hanpeita and Tanji returned to their business at hand. "I've given the matter a great deal of thought," Tanji said. "I think we should approach the wealthy Osaka merchants."
"Yes, the wealthy merchants!" Hanpeita nodded sinisterly.
"Once it's pointed out to them that Osaka would surely be destroyed in case of war with the barbarians, I expect they will be willing to come up with some gold."
"Some gold!" Hanpeita said. "How much do you estimate?"
"About two hundred thousand ryo."
"Two hundred thousand ryo" Ryoma blurted.
"Should any one of the merchants resist," Tanji continued, ignoring the outburst, "whoever had asked him should cut open his own belly on the spot to demonstrate our absolute sincerity."
"What?" Ryoma shouted.
"Let him finish speaking, Ryoma," Hanpeita said.
"Most of the merchants are cowards who are only interested in gold. I am certain that there is no merchant who could stomach the sight of two or maybe three such suicides. Of course, I insist that I have the honor of being the first one to die."
Hanpeita grinned diabolically. The notion seemed to please him.
"Can't you think of anything more constructive than killing yourselves and others?" Ryoma shouted.
"What's wrong, Sakamoto?" Tanji glared at Ryoma. "Have you lost your nerve?"
"Tanji, your idea is very good," Hanpeita said.
Ryoma pounded his fist on the floor. "If it's funding you need," he said, "We should acquire some foreign warships. With these we could engage in trade to raise money, while defending ourselves at the same time. That's what we'll be doing at our naval academy. And that's what I've come here to discuss with you."
Hanpeita looked hard at Ryoma. "Things are ready," he said. "With our support, the Imperial Court has the Bakufu at bay. We've already forced the Shogun himself to set a deadline for the expulsion of the barbarians."
"Hanpeita," Ryoma interrupted, "what makes you think you're ready?"
"I've already submitted our plan to the court," Hanpeita said.
"What plan?"
"First of all," Hanpeita lowered his voice, "the entire area around Osaka and Kyoto will be brought under Imperial rule."
"And what about the feudal lords who rule over the area now?" Ryoma asked.
"They will be forced to relinquish their domains, and the area will be garrisoned by troops under the direct control of the court."
"And how do you plan to finance all this?" Ryoma asked.
"As Tanji just suggested, we could order the wealthy merchants in Osaka to pay."
A shadow fell over Ryoma's face, and he gave Hanpeita a vexed look.
"In this way," Hanpeita continued, "the court will be able to assume responsibility for all political decisions, and the Bakufu will become powerless."
"But we're not ready yet, Hanpeita. We need to unite first."
"We will unite. Once the court has assumed political authority, the feudal lords will gather in Kyoto rather than Edo. The Divine Emperor will surely demand respect from enough feudal lords to ensure His sovereignty over the nation. We are raising an Imperial Army, and Lord Yodo, among others, supports us. The alliance to topple the Bakufu is about to be forged between Tosa, Choshu and Satsuma. After that the other powerful han will join the Imperial Alliance, and nothing will stop us."
"That's just what I've come to talk to you about," Ryoma shouted. "I'm asking you," he paused, "no, I'm begging you to listen to reason. You must call off your men. The barbarians are not going to leave Japan just because we order them to. The British have twelve warships at Yokohama ready to attack unless the Bakufu yields to their demands. But we're not ready to drive them out by force, they're just too powerful. Things have come to a head, Hanpeita, and I don't think you realize how dangerous the situation is, both in Edo and Kyoto." Ryoma lowered his voice. "Lord Yodo is not behind you. He'll never agree to turn against the Bakufu. You should know that as well as I do. You're being deceived."
"What are you talking about, Sakamoto?" Tanji said angrily.
"You can't actually believe that Lord Yodo is going to support a bunch of lower-samurai who are trying to gain control over his own domain," Ryoma scoffed.
"Lord Yodo is a man of his word," Hanpeita said. "He is on our side." "Hanpeita," Ryoma pleaded, "if you and your men would stop relying on
Tosa and work with me under Katsu Kaishu, we would surely win in the
end."
Ryoma had heard from Kaishu of the true intentions of the Tosa daimyo. Lord Yodo had come to Kyoto this month for two purposes: one, to promote a compromise between the court and the Bakufu; the other, which was a means to this end, to crush the Tosa Loyalists. Despite his relation by marriage to the Sanjo family at court, and his outward appearance as a Loyalist sympathizer, Yodo was determined to arrest every Tosa Loyalist in the Imperial capital.
"We will win, Ryoma," Hanpeita insisted. "That I guarantee."
"You don't understand, Hanpeita. We can't win without developing a navy. Japan is an island country and the only way to defend it from foreign attack j is by sea. And that's exactly what we're going to do under Katsu Kaishu, the i leading naval expert in Japan."
"Ryoma," Hanpeita said, "you've enlisted several of my best men. But I f wish you well. I know we're fighting for the same cause, and sometime in the future maybe we can join forces."
It was only now that Ryoma realized that there was no hope to save his friends, as he struggled to hold back tears. Indeed, Sakamoto Ryoma would never see Takechi Hanpeita again.
* * *
Takechi Hanpeita and most of the other Tosa Loyalists who were not working for Katsu Kaishu were ordered back to Kochi at the beginning of April by Lord Yodo, who also returned to his domain to crush the outlawed party and to punish the murderers of Yoshida Toyo.
On the national scene, opposition to the foreign treaties had so intensified that in March the Shogun himself was obliged to pay a visit to Kyoto to promise the Emperor that he would expel the foreigners by the tenth of the following May. This first visit to Kyoto by a Shogun in over two centuries displayed Edo's diminishing ability to dominate Japan, while the impossible promise to expel the foreigners so angered Lord Shungaku that he resigned his post as political director of the Edo regime, and returned to his castle in Fukui at the end of March.
Meanwhile, Ryoma remained busy through the spring recruiting men for the naval academy of Katsu Kaishu, with whom he met daily to discuss plans. His life had changed drastically in the past several months, during which time his relationship with Kaishu had developed from one of teacher and student into a partnership. While Kaishu used his close relationship with the seventeen-year-old Shogun Iemochi to gain permission to establish an official Bakufu Naval Academy in Kobe, Ryoma used his influence among the Loyalists in Kyoto to recruit nearly one hundred of them for Kaishu's private school. The Bakufu institution and the private academy would share the costly facilities supplied by the Edo government. Under Kaishu, Ryoma, at age twenty-eight, was on the verge of realizing his dream of establishing a navy. He drolly expressed his excitement in a letter to his sister Otome, dated -March 20, 1863: "Well, well! In the first place, life sure is strange. There are; some men who are so unlucky that they die by breaking their balls just trying to climb out of a bathtub. Compared to that I'm extremely lucky: here I was on the verge of death but I didn 't die. Even if I tried to die I couldn 't, because there are too many things which compel me to live. I have now become the disciple of Katsu Kaishu, the greatest man in Japan, and I am spending every day on things I have always dreamed about. Even if I should live to be forty, I wouldn 't leave this to return home.''
During the spring of this year Ryoma accompanied Kaishu on several trips between Osaka and Edo, gaining navigational experience aboard the Tokugawa warship Jundo Maru. In Edo, Kaishu introduced Ryoma to his close friend and mentor Okubo Ichio, who had recruited Kaishu into the government eight years before.
At age forty-six, Okubo was concurrently working at the important post of commissioner of foreign affairs and as member of the Bakufu's council in charge of supervising Tokugawa officials and retainers. His experience in foreign affairs, and at a prior post in the Institute for the Study of Barbarian Books, had given him access to a wide range of knowledge of the West. Okubo, who was also friendly with Lord Shungaku and his political advisor, Yokoi Shonan, had been expelled from office during the Great Purge of Ii Naosuke, but recalled in 1861.
One spring afternoon Ryoma and Sonojo walked through the iron-studded oaken gate of the Okubo residence, located near Edo Castle. The two had just returned to Edo with Kaishu for the particular purpose of meeting the commissioner of foreign affairs, although it was almost unheard of for two men of no official status whatsoever to be granted a private audience with one of Okubo's distinction. But as Kaishu had arranged the meeting, the two were greeted by a woman servant at the front door of the two-storied house, and escorted down a long, dark wooden corridor.
Okubo was waiting in his study. He was thinner than Ryoma had expected, and frail in appearance, but his serious, powerful eyes impressed both of the younger men.
Ryoma and Sonojo bowed at the threshold of the study. "Come in and sit down," Okubo said. The two Tosa samurai removed their long swords and placed them to their right, the hilts pointed forward-a common courtesy indicating that the blade could not be readily drawn with the right hand-as they sat down in the formal position.
Okubo began speaking. "You must be Sakamoto Ryoma. Katsu has told me a lot about you. He tells me you're an avid Loyalist, and that you came to kill him in his own house last fall," he said, snickering.
"Yes," Ryoma replied uncomfortably. "Katsu-sensei has told us that you have some very interesting ideas concerning how to protect the nation from foreign subjugation. We've come to hear them."
"But you're thinking that an old man who is working for the decrepit Tokugawa government can't have anything worthwhile to say. Isn't that right?"
The remark stunned Sonojo, but Ryoma, who had on several occasions heard similar comments from Kaishu, was not surprised. "Yes, that's right," he said.
"Let me begin by asking you a question," Okubo said, apparently impressed by Ryoma boldness. How would your Loyalists react if the Shogun were to restore the political rule of Japan to the Emperor?"
This remark surprised even Ryoma. For a man of Okubo's position to suggest that the Shogun abdicate was preposterous, even dangerous.
"That's exactly what we are fighting for," Ryoma said. "But the Shogun would never do that. It would be suicide."
"No, I don't think so,' Okubo said. "The Shogun's abdicating would not necessarily relinquish his rule over his domains in several provinces. These; alone would ensure him sufficient wealth and power."
"And who would rule in the Shogun's place?"
"Two councils would be created. One would consist of the most powerful, feudal lords, and would meet in Kyoto every four or five years. The otherJ would be made up of lesser lords, and meet in Edo."
"And where does the Emperor fit into this scheme?" Sonojo asked.
"The Emperor would wield sovereign power from the Chrysanthemum! Throne in Kyoto," Okubo stated flatly.
"And how about the Tokugawa?" Ryoma asked.
"The Tokugawa Shogun would certainly be included among the councilf of great feudal lords. Everyone would be satisfied, and Japan would thus become united as one nation."
"That's fantastic!" Ryoma exclaimed.
"Hasn't Katsu mentioned this plan to you?" Okubo asked.
"No."
"Then I don't supposed that he's told you about his recent suggestion at the Grand Hall in Edo Castle."
"No!"
"Katsu himself suggested to the Shogun that he abdicate."
Ryoma was utterly astonished by this last remark. For Kaishu and Okubo to talk like this among themselves, or even to himself or Sonojo, was one thing. But to suggest such a thing to the Shogun in Edo Castle could be lethal.
"That worries me," Ryoma said, unconsciously placing his right hand on his sword.
"No need to worry," Okubo laughed. "Katsu will be alright. The man is indestructible. He's quite a character. Yes, quite a character indeed."
* * *
One afternoon in the following May Ryoma sat with Kaishu in the navy commissioner's lodgings in Kyoto discussing the establishment of the naval academy.
"One hundred men are plenty to begin with," Kaishu said, "but we're short of money. The Bakufu coffers are nearly empty, so all we can get from Edo" is three thousand ryo, hardly enough to finance a naval academy. We need to acquire land, construct buildings and purchase ships."
"Then let's raise the money," Ryoma said.
"How?"
"From the feudal lords who have the insight to realize the importance of our mission."
"Ryoma," Kaishu exclaimed, slapping his knee, "you're uncanny. That's just what I intended to discuss with you today. I want you to go to Fukui Han to see if you can convince our friend Lord Shungaku to grant us a loan. A man of his caliber will surely understand the importance of our project."
"I don't mind trying, but it seems that Lord Shungaku would be more apt to lend us money if you personally were to ask him."
"Don't underestimate yourself," Kaishu said, then immediately retracted the statement before sardonically adding, "No, I'm sure that's one thing you would never do, Ryoma. You're much too much like me to underestimate yourself." "But, Sensei..."
"No, I want you to go. Besides, you've already proven your ability to persuade over the past six months. To tell you the truth, I never expected you to find one hundred men to work for me from among the Loyalists in Kyoto. Not until the day you walked into my room with Izo, that is," Kaishu paused momentarily, then burst out laughing. "You should have seen some of those stupid potato-heads from Edo when they saw me walk through the gates of Nijo Castle with him. I thought they might piss all over themselves."
Ryoma howled with amusement, then asked, "How much money do we need?" "About five thousand." "Ryo?" Ryoma swallowed deeply.
"Five thousand ryo is what I estimate," Kaishu said. "As the annual rice yield of some of the smaller fiefdoms is only twice that amount, your ability to persuade is about to be put to a real test. But I don't expect Lord Shungaku will lend us all of it. At any rate, I think it would be helpful for you to meet another close friend of mine before you talk with Shungaku." "Who?"
"Yokoi Shonan, Shungaku's most trusted advisor." Yokoi Shonan, one of the great thinkers of his time, was a samurai of Kumamoto Han, but recently serving the Lord of Fukui as chief political advisor. Although Yokoi was once a chronic xenophobe, a glimpse at the military technology of the West changed his mind in much the same way it had Ryoma's, so that at age fifty-two he was now a confirmed believer in the absolute necessity of opening the country. It was for this very reason that Kusaka Genzui had urged Ryoma to assassinate Yokoi during the previous year.
Although Yokoi supported Opening the Country, he espoused renouncing the foreign treaties, even at the expense of war. He argued that since the Tokugawa had signed the treaties with only its own welfare in mind, and with no concern for the rest of Japan, the Bakufu must abandon its selfish policies, for the sake of the entire nation. But unlike the Loyalists, Yokoi did not prefer war as a means to an end, but insisted that Japan must be resolved
to fight to preserve its sovereignty. The country, he argued, must be opened on an equal basis, not through one-sided treaties forced on Japan by foreigners. However, as Yokoi was a man of thought rather than action, he left the job of actualizing his ideas to others. Kaishu and Ryoma would establish a navy to do so.
Ryoma stood up, thrust his sword through his sash. "I'll go at once," he said, then bowed before leaving.
Ryoma set out on foot at sunrise the next morning, northeast from Kyoto fori the domain of Fukui. Although he felt confident that the Fukui daimyo would; lend him a certain amount of gold, Ryoma doubted that he could convince; him to invest the enormous sum of 5,000 ryo. Nevertheless his basic philosophy dictated that once he had decided on a goal he must see it through. Ryoma's goal was to form a navy, both military and merchant. The military might of his navy would be necessary to topple the Bakufu and protect Japan from foreign aggression. With the commercial end he planned to conduct free trade, domestically and internationally. He was convinced that free trade was the only way to enrich the nation to ensure lasting safety. Kaishu, like Kawada Shoryo before him, had taught Ryoma these basic principles ofi capitalism. Both men had told him of the joint-stock company in the United J States, whereby people with capital invested money, while people withj an idea put that money to practical use. The capitalist concept, which was totally foreign to feudal Japan, fit Ryoma's current circumstances perfectly. In short, he would not merely ask Lord Shungaku for a loan, but rather to make a capital investment, repayable with a portion of the profits from the commercial end of the navy.
Ryoma arrived at Fukui Castletown, just inland from the Sea of Japan and northeast of Kyoto, one warm afternoon in mid-May, After procuring lodgings at the Tobacco Inn, he sent a message to Yokoi Shonan, requesting a meeting. Yokoi had heard about Ryoma from Kaishu and Shungaku, and more recently in letters from Okubo, who had written to Shungaku on the night after his first meeting with Ryoma and Sonojo. "The courage of the ronin who are prepared to die for their cause," Okubo had declared, "puts men of the Bakufu to shame." In the same letter Okubo had described Ryoma as "a man of truly strong character." It was no wonder, then, that Lord Shungaku's trusted advisor, upon receiving Ryoma's message, immediately set out to meet him.
The Tobacco Inn was a simple two-storied wooden house with a black tile roof. In front of the house was a small garden of dwarfed pines, and the hydrangeas were in full bloom, coloring the garden with pale shades of blue, pink and purple. Near the center of the garden was a pond, in which several large carp, some black some orange, swam furiously in circles. It was feeding time, and the innkeeper, dressed in a kimono of dark blue cotton, was tossing small clumps of steamed barley into the pond. Several golden dragonflies hovered above the mossy green water, which shimmered coolly in the late afternoon sunlight.
"I'm looking for Tosa samurai Sakamoto Ryoma," Yokoi said, approaching the house. He was immaculately dressed in black, and his two swords hung at his left hip. By the encircled triangular crest on his jacket, the innkeeper immediately recognized Yokoi.
The commoner bowed deeply. "Please, come right this way, Your Excellency. I'll show you to his room."
Yokoi followed the innkeeper into the earthen-floored entranceway to the house. Here he removed his wooden clogs, before stepping up into an anteroom paneled with dark wood. The two men ascended a ladder staircase leading to a dark corridor.
"You have a visitor," the innkeeper called from behind a closed door. But there was no answer, just the sound of someone snoring loudly inside. "Well, open up!" Yokoi demanded. "I don't have all day."
The innkeeper slid open the door. Inside Ryoma was sleeping in his dirty kimono, spread-eagle, without bedding, and both swords on the floor next to him.
"Sakamoto-san," Yokoi called in a loud voice.
Ryoma stirred, opened his eyes, focused on the small man-less than five-feet tall-then finally realizing where he was, jumped to his feet. "I must have fallen asleep," he said. "You must be Yokoi-sensei."
Yokoi nodded, and cleared his throat. Despite his rustic features-large face, dark complexion, thick black eyebrows that curved upward and met at the bridge of a wide nose, high cheekbones and large mouth-his eyes betrayed the razor-sharp wit for which he was famous.
"Please come in and sit down," Ryoma said, and after the innkeeper left them alone, heatedly explained to Yokoi his reason for coming to Fukui.
"Katsu has told me about your plans for a navy," Yokoi said after Ryoma finished speaking. "I fully support them."
"I hope Lord Shungaku feels the same," Ryoma said.
"He certainly does!" assured Shungaku's chief political advisor.
"What I mean is that I hope he'll be willing to invest in our navy."
"How Lord Shungaku feels and what he can afford may be two different matters. Five thousand ryo is a large sum."
"Not so large when you consider that the money will be used for developing a navy to protect the nation," Ryoma said. "Fukui is one of the greatest domains in Japan. The Matsudaira family is directly related to the Tokugawa."
"Yes," Yokoi said. "I'll arrange for you to meet Lord Shungaku tomorrow."
On the following morning, Ryoma met Lord Shungaku in the confines of Fukui Castle. "Welcome, Ryoma," the daimyo said when the Tosa samurai appeared at the entrance to his reception room. Lord Shungaku admired Ryoma for his unaffected manner, uncanny sense of the times, sincere character and frankness.
Ryoma entered the room, kneeled down and bowed so deeply that he touched his face to the tatami floor. "Thank you for your recent kindness," he said, referring to Shungaku's having spoken on his behalf to the Tosa
daimyo.
"Get up, Ryoma. That position doesn't suit you. I've heard about your bi plans from Yokoi."
Ryoma sat up straight. "Not so big, Lord Shungaku," he said. "Just plans for a navy."
"Ryoma, you amaze me," Shungaku said with a heavy sigh. "And I doub that you have ever put that mouth of yours to so much use in such a short period of time as you did yesterday. Yokoi supports your plans completely.' This was Lord Shungaku's way of telling Ryoma that he would indeed invest 5,000 ryo in the naval academy.
The Sweltering Summer of Frenzy
During the summer of 1863, while Ryoma was making the final arrangements for Kaishu 's private naval academy in Kobe, his Loyalist comrades were active in their own respective arenas. With the radicals increasing their power in Kyoto, the three feudal lords who had been working to achieve a compromise between court and camp-those ofFukui, Tosa and Satsuma- had been compelled to quit the Kyoto stage and perform behind the scene from their individual castles. The Imperial capital was now in the hands of the Choshu extremists, while the leading players in the drive to topple the Bakufu-the extremist factions of Choshu, Satsuma and Tosa-acted and reacted with one another in a bloody coup de theatre which sent the entire nation reeling.
With Shogun lemochi having set May 10 as the date by which the foreigners would be expelled from Japan, the Choshu extremists made their plans accordingly. Aware that Edo had no intention of using military force to carry out its promise, the Choshu-sponsored rebels, led by Kusaka Genzui, had a dual-purpose in mind when they gathered at Shimonoseki Strait at the southwestern point of Choshu: increasing their status among the xenophobic court nobles and further diminishing Bakufu prestige, by attacking foreign ships passing through the strait.
Shimonoseki Strait, which separated Kyushu from Honshu, served as an important route for foreign ships traveling between the open Ports of Yokohama and Nagasaki. On the morning of May 11, the day after the deadline to expel the foreigners, an American merchant ship bound for Nagasaki was suddenly chased and fired upon by two Choshu warships as it passed through the strait. On the twenty-third of the same month a French dispatch-boat crossing these waters was similarly attacked. Three days later a Dutch corvette sailing from Nagasaki to Yokohama became the third target of Choshu guns at Shimonoseki.
Although all three of the unsuspecting ships escaped intact, Choshu's boldness elevated its already high status among the radicals at court, at the expense of Satsuma and even Tokugawa prestige. Exuberant over his temporary victory, the Lord of Choshu immediately relayed the events to the Imperial Court, which in turn sent a letter of praise to Hagi Castle, setting even higher the spirits of the Loyalist fighters in Choshu.
* * *
Upon his return from Fukui in late May, Ryoma went to Kobe to meet Katsu Kaishu. Although Kobe was still an obscure fishing village on the outskirts of the large outpost town of Hyogo, it was at this spot on Osaka Bay that Kaishu had chosen to establish his naval academy. As Hyogo, like nearby Osaka, was a domain of the Tokugawa, it was a suitable location for an official Bakufu training center; and the natural harbor at Kobe promised to serve; as an ideal location for naval headquarters.
When Ryoma reported to Kaishu of his success in procuring the 5,000 ry from Lord Shungaku, the naval commissioner was nevertheless reluctan to demonstrate too much excitement. After all, they were still without the basics: ships for training, coal for their engines, and a building for headquarters. When Kaishu had received permission from Edo to establish the naval academy, he was also guaranteed that the necessary ships and equipment would be supplied by the Bakufu Naval Training Center in Nagasaki, but none had yet arrived.
"The money will be delivered here from Fukui within a few days," Ryoma, informed, before Kaishu relayed the details of the events in Choshu as they had occurred over the past two weeks.
"There's no sense in your getting so bothered," Kaishu said consolingly. He had never seen Ryoma so upset, and felt ill at ease, despite himself. "What's done is done."
"I just can't understand those maniacs," Ryoma said angrily. "We must act fast, Sensei. We must build our navy to help Choshu, if the barbarians don't retaliate first by blowing Shimonoseki off the map."
"The difference between you and your friends in Choshu," Kaishu said, "is your sense of timing."
"Timing," Ryoma bitterly agreed, "is one thing the Choshu men don't seem to understand."
Kaishu and Ryoma stood on an expansive beach near Kobe Village one morning in the first week of June. The coast was dotted with thatched houses of fishermen, pines lined the road above, and behind the road were green rice fields which flowed with the breeze into the hills beyond. The two men were admiring a new building, much different in style than the thatched houses. It was longer and narrower, and had only one story. The paneled walls were freshly lacquered, and the black tile roof gleamed in the morning sunlight. The beach this morning was empty, and the shrill of cicadas in the pines seemed to rise up all of a sudden through the warm salt air.
"What do you think?" Kaishu asked of the headquarters of his private naval academy.
"Just like home," Ryoma said, when a voice called his name from the road above. This was Sonojo, who ran down the hill to meet the two men. "Ryoma," he said excitedly, "I've just come from Tosa headquarters in Kyoto with some horrible news."
"What is it," Ryoma asked.
"Tosa Loyalists Hirai Shujiro, Masaki Tetsuma and Hirose Kenta are dead."
Kaishu had recently appointed Ryoma head of his private naval academy.
Ryoma's following of nearly one hundred men, mostly ronin, included seven of his comrades from Tosa, all former members or sympathizers of Hanpeita's recently crushed Tosa Loyalist Party. Ryoma's nephew, Takamatsu Taro, was second to enroll after Kondo Chojiro, the bean jam bun maker's son who had recently received samurai status. Sawamura Sonojo had also shown up at Kobe headquarters lately, accompanied by Umanosuke, the son of a Tosa peasant. Even the staunch Loyalists Mochizuki Kameyata and Chiya Toranosuke, like Ryoma, now considered Kaishu "the greatest man in Japan." The latest recruit from Tosa was Yasuoka Kanema, Toranosuke's younger cousin.
Lord Yodo's recent crackdown on the Tosa Loyalists helped convince these Tosa men to stay in Kobe with Ryoma. As Sonojo had just reported, three of Hanpeita's lieutenants-Hirai Shujiro, Masaki Tetsuma and Hirose Kenta-had been ordered by Yodo to commit seppuku. Suspecting that the same might be in store for Hanpeita and the others, Ryoma hurried to Kyoto, and went straight to Tosa headquarters there. But when he arrived, he found the barracks nearly empty.
"Won't someone tell me what's happening around here?" he hollered, storming through the barracks, looking in each room.
"Sakamoto-san," called a voice from inside one of the rooms. Standing at the center of the room was a man dressed in typical samurai garb, but with a black hood covering his entire head and wrapped around his face, so that only his eyes, nose and mouth were visible. His sword, which hung from his left hip, was too long for him.
"Who are you?" Ryoma asked.
"I'm Tosa samurai Mutsu Yonosuke."
"You're not from Tosa," Ryoma scoffed. "It's obvious from your accent that you're from Kii."
"Yes," Yonosuke said, annoyed, "but I've been telling people I'm from Tosa."
"Have it your way. You can have Tosa and do what you like with it," Ryoma sneered. "But just tell me what's going on there now."
"Don't you know?"
"If I knew, do you think I'd be asking?"
Yonosuke explained, in a monotone, that three of Hanpeita's top men were recently ordered to commit seppuku for "insolence in not carrying out their lord's orders." Yodo had been furious with them, accusing them of meddling in Tosa affairs after the assassination of Yoshida Toyo.
As Yonosuke relayed in great detail, all three men performed their suicides courageously. Since Masaki did not have a calligraphy brush in jail, he formed Chinese characters out of strips of paper to compose his death poem in his cell. The poem stressed the condemned man's great pleasure that the court had regained political power, his only lament being that the Tosa banner could not fly in the Imperial capital with those of Choshu and Satsuma. In his last words, he tearfully denounced Lord Yodo for his indecisiveness in the face of the Bakufu.
Hirose had studied the proper way to commit seppuku, claiming that a man's value was determined by how well he was able to cut open his belly. He discovered that if one plunged his short sword into the left side of the belly, sliced straight across to the right side, then cut with the tip of the blade diagonally upward, and immediately sliced across this vital area to the right nipple, death would be instantaneous. When his chance came, Hirose, dressed in ceremonial white, calmly sat down and asked his second not to behead him until he had finished. In fact, Hirose had cut himself so skillfully that he was dead before his second could offer any assistance.
Hirai Shujiro, Kao's older brother, carved his death poem with his fingernails on the walls of his jail cell. When he sat down to perform seppuku he noticed that his second, a close friend, was pale and extremely tense.
"Relax," Hirai said calmly, rubbing his hand over the portion of his belly he would cut. "Let's get on with it," he said, then tightly gripping his short sword, plunged it into his belly. The second panicked, and instead of severing the head at the neck, his blade struck his friend on the back of the skull, cutting him badly. "I told you to relax," Hirai screamed, his face contorted in agony. An instant later the second struck again, and Hirai's head fell from his body.
"A waste!" Ryoma cried out as Yonosuke finished speaking. "I told them from the beginning not to trust Yodo. I pleaded with them to leave Tosa, and join me." Ryoma's eyes filled with tears. "Any word about Hanpeita?"
"As far as I know, he has not been arrested."
"Maybe not yet," Ryoma sneered, "but with the way things are now, none of the Loyalists in Tosa are safe."
"And since all of them have been ordered to return, there's not one Tosaj Loyalist left in Kyoto, Sakamoto-san."
"How do you know my name?" Ryoma asked suspiciously.
"I was working with the Tosa Loyalists. And since there's not a man among them who doesn't speak of you, I've heard a lot about you."
"Do you always wear that?" Ryoma asked.
"Wear what?"
"That hood."
"I was about to get out of here when you came along. I feel safer if, people don't recognize me." The man removed the hood, revealing a light complexion, long face and well defined nose. His thick eyebrows were dark over sunken eyes, his build frail, and though at five-feet, three-inches he was above average height, Ryoma was much taller.
"Why don't you join my naval academy in Kobe," Ryoma said.
"I was just on my way to Kobe to do that, Sakamoto-san."
"Then put that hood back on, and let's get out of here."
Unlike Ryoma and the other men at Kaishu's naval academy, Mutsu Yonosuke was of an elite lineage. His grandfather had been a high ranking government minister of the fiefdom of Kii, the wealthiest of the elite Three Tokugawa Branch Houses and the home of the present Shogun. Yonosuke's father, Munehiro, was a famous scholar of Japanese history, who, in spite of his Loyalist views, enjoyed both wealth and political power in the Kii government. Munehiro's political rival was a minister by the name of Mizuno, who criticized the scholar's Loyalist ideas as treason. The two became bitter enemies, and in 1852 Mizuno drove Munehiro from power, had him imprisoned and his family banished from the castletown to live in poverty. Yonosuke at this time was only nine years old.
The boy was determined to avenge the outrageous treatment of his father, by cutting down a Kii official. The plan was thwarted when a relative caught Yonosuke sneaking out of his house with a sword. Yonosuke screamed and hollered, bit and scratched, then screamed and hollered some more. When he found that tantrums would not work, he tried argument to get his way. He protested violently his relative's interference, and insisted that he be allowed to avenge the injustice done his father. He argued that the daimyo himself was corrupt for allowing such injustice within his domain. And all this came from the mouth of a nine-year-old boy. Such were the makings of Japan's greatest foreign minister.
Yonosuke would never forgive Kii Han. At age fifteen he fled, and went to Edo where he studied at the academies of two famous scholars. This was in 1858, when Ii Naosuke had just come to power, signed the treaty with the Americans and begun his terrible purge. When Ryoma fled Tosa four years later, Yonosuke, at eighteen, was mingling with other Loyalists dedicated to the overthrow of the Bakufu. Near the end of 1862 Yonosuke went to Kyoto, where he was reunited with his father, who had also fled Kii and become friendly with the radical court nobles. During this time Yonosuke began frequenting Tosa's Kyoto headquarters, where he developed close relations with Hirai Shujiro. Although Hirai was a member of the Tosa Loyalist Party, his upper-samurai status gave him access to the daimyo. Recognizing the young man's intellectual capacities and his enthusiasm for Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism, Hirai arranged for Yonosuke to have an audience with Lord Yodo: thus Yonosuke's self-styled status as a Tosa samurai.
Shortly after the Choshu radicals had fired on foreign ships in Shimonoseki, Ryoma's fear of foreign subjugation was exacerbated with the news that Shimonoseki had been bombarded by American and French warships.
The United States was in the middle of the Civil War when the Union sloop of war Wyoming was patrolling the Japanese coast in search of a certain Confederate cruiser. The captain of the Wyoming had heard of the recent attack on an American merchant ship, and decided to punish Choshu. At dawn of June 1, the Wyoming entered Shimonoseki Strait prepared for battle. As soon as the Choshu forces spotted the foreign ship, they fired their outdated bronze cannon from three separate batteries along the coast. But unlike the three ships recently fired upon in these waters, the Wyoming crew was aware of the inferior firing range of the Choshu guns, and so stayed a safe distance away. The Americans fired relentlessly, and within minutes had
sunk two Choshu warships and badly damaged a third. Just an hour after the
first shot had been fired, the Wyoming left the startled Choshu domain for the
Port of Yokohama.
The French retaliated on the morning of June 5 by pounding the Shimonoseki coast with two heavily armed warships. After destroying the Choshu battery, 300 French troops landed on Shimonoseki, burning to the ground a surrounding village and, to the horror of the xenophobic Choshu samurai, temporarily occupying the remaining batteries. At dusk of the same day, however, the French gathered up their dead and injured, reboarded their ships and departed the humiliated Choshu domain for Yokohama.
Choshu's short-lived mood, of triumph had now completely vanished. In just five days, not only had it lost dozens of men, a large number of cannons and two of its three warships, but the occupation by the French, though temporary, sent shock waves throughout the domain. The Japanese had always been confident that if it came to combat on land the foreigners would be no match for the fighting spirit of the samurai. The French proved them wrong and the leadership of Choshu had once and for all realized that repelling the barbarians by force was impossible.
It was late at night, and Ryoma was outraged. The only sound was the steady pounding of the surf, the only light that of a paper lantern, as he sat alone in his private room at Kobe headquarters. The building was full of men fast asleep; but having heard of the attack on Choshu and of the Bakufu's subsequent treachery, Ryoma was too disturbed to sleep. He picked up his writing brush from his low desk, and began scribbling his truest thoughts to his sister Otome.
"This letter concerns the most important of matters, so don't show it to a soul, and be sure not to chatter about it to anyone.
"Things for me are coming along fine now. I have become very close with one of the big han, (a powerful daimyo), and if trouble should start now I would have two or three hundred men to use as I thought best"
Gloating with self-pride over his recent success in obtaining the loan from Fukui and his relationship with Lord Shungaku, Ryoma wanted to share this with his sister. And even if he exaggerated the number of men at the academy, surely this was due to his enthusiasm.
"As for money, I can always come up with at least ten or twenty ryo. This eases my mind a lot.
"But it is really too bad that Choshu started a war last month by shelling foreign ships; this does not benefit Japan at all. But what really disgusts me is that the ships they shot up in Choshu are being repaired at Edo, and when they 're fixed will head right back to Choshu to fight again. This is all because the corrupt officials in Edo are in league with the barbarians."
Ryoma stopped writing, and with his sleeve wiped the sweat from the side of his face. Although he could understand the attack from the foreigners' point of view, he was furious with the Bakufu for secretly welcoming foreign assistance to punish Choshu.
"Although those corrupt Bakufu officials have a great deal of power now, I'm going to get the help of two or three daimyo and enlist like-minded men so we can start thinking more about the good of Japan, and not only the Imperial Court. Then, I'll get together with my friends in Edo (you know, Tokugawa retainers, daimyo and so on) to go after those wicked officials and cut them down"
Ryoma replaced the brush on the desk, then pounded his right fist into his left palm. "Damn it," he muttered to himself, and took up the brush again. "I vow to clean up Japan once and for all," he scrawled in large, flowing Japanese script, confiding in Otome his firm conviction to topple the Bakufu. "The big han I mentioned fully agrees with me, and its representatives are letting me in on all its secrets. Still, I haven't really been appointed to anything. It's really a shame that there aren't more men like me around the country."
Again Ryoma stopped writing, wiped the brush on the same sleeve he had just used to wipe his face, laid the brush on the desk, and reached for a gourd flask of sake. He pulled out the wooden stopper with his teeth, spit it out, took a long swig, then sighed heavily as he thought about a letter he had received from his sister recently. Otome had left her husband. This, however, was not news to Ryoma; she had told him of her intentions the last time they had met. What troubled him was his sister's apparent depression. She had written in a tone of uncharacteristic self-pity that she was considering renouncing the world for religion. But no sooner had Ryoma taken another long swig of sake, than he began laughing at the thought of Otome, of all people, becoming a Buddhist nun. Alone in his dimly lit room, Ryoma picked up his brush.
"You say in the letter I got from you the other day that you want to become a religious person and retire into the remote mountains somewhere. (Well, well! Ahem!) An amusing idea, but you 've had it before. Things are pretty hectic around here, but if you 're going to go through with it, put on some old faded priest's robes and start wandering around like a pilgrim. It probably won't be too much trouble. You can travel across Japan without spending a single silver coin. Still, if you 're going to do that, first you have to read the Shingon sutras, Kanon sutras, Ikko sutras andAmida sutras. They're rhythmic and quite difficult."
Here, Ryoma started laughing aloud, even uncontrollably, at the idea of Otome reading the Buddhist sutras. He took another drink of sake. Then a cold, blue flash filled his mind for an instant as he realized that he hadn't seen his sister for over a year, and didn't know when, or if, he would see her again.
"In the end" he continued, "this world isn't worth a damn. So put all you have into it, with such intensity that you fart doing so. If you should die, what'11 be left in the fields will look like white stones (dear, dear!).
"But becoming a pilgrim is not something you can do alone, without checking with people (for instance, poor old Ryoma is likely to die and haunt you any time). If you're thinking about it, you have to think of others and respect their wishes and thoughts. I think that you are a little too young, you know. When you look for a husband you don 't just want some pretty boy who looks good on the outside; you have to be a vigorous, tough woman with some spunk. If for instance, you go out with one or two friends for an evening and should encounter some robbers, go after them and don't let them go until you have smashed them in the balls."
Ryoma again put down his brush. He chuckled briefly and took another drink from the flask. He was beginning to feel drunk, and the night was getting on toward dawn. A strong ocean wind was howling through the pines behind the building, and Ryoma's humorous thoughts suddenly turned morbid.
'’I don't expect that I'll be around too long. But I'm not about to die like any average person either. I'm only prepared to die when big changes finally come, when even if I continue to live I will no longer be of any use to the country. But since I'm fairly shifty, I'm not likely to die so easily. But seriously, although I was born a mere potato digger in Tosa, a nobody, I'm destined to bring about great changes in the nation. But I'm definitely not going to get puffed up about it. Quite the contrary! I'm going to keep my nose to the ground, like a clam in the mud. So don't worry about me!"
Ryoma signed the letter, and again wiped the brush on his sleeve, threw it on the desk and drank the remaining sake. "Don't worry about me, Otome," he said aloud. "I'm not about to die so easily."
The dawn had crept into the night sky, and a pale light filtered into the room through the open window, as Ryoma suddenly felt extremely tired, lay back and was soon fast asleep.
"Sakamoto-san," Mutsu Yonosuke called at Ryoma's room late that morning.
Ryoma opened his eyes. "What?"
"Something urgent."
"Well, come in."
Yonosuke entered the room, and without sitting down or speaking, gave Ryoma a long, troubled look.
"Well, what is it?" Ryoma said impatiently.
"While I was in Edo," Yonosuke began in an annoying monotone, "I heard about a man by the name of Kabuto Sosuke, a real fanatic. He's an expert swordsman, and word has it that he's cut down a lot of people in Kyoto."
"Heaven s Revenge," Ryoma groaned.
"Yes. He has about six or seven men in his gang, which has recently come from Kyoto to Osaka with one particular purpose in mind."
"And?" Ryoma yawned. He was not inclined to get excited over a gang of fanatic Loyalist killers; after all, he had tamed Okada Izo, the most notorious of them all.
"And what do you suppose that purpose is?" Yonosuke asked.
"I have no idea." Ryoma again yawned.
"To assassinate Tokugawa Navy Commissioner Katsu Kaishu."
"What?" Ryoma roared, springing to his feet. If Ryoma had not been disturbed by the content of Yonosuke's words, he might have been inclined to knock some feeling into the younger man who spoke with, what he considered, uncalled for composure. "Katsu-sensei left for Osaka this morning," Ryoma shouted. "Has he been warned?"
"Yes. I told him before he left. He said he'd be careful, but didn't seem to mind."
"That sounds like him." Ryoma shook his head slowly. "Why didn't you tell me earlier?" he hollered. Ryoma, who seldom angered, was furious; such was his concern for the safety of his mentor.
"That's not all," Yonosuke continued calmly.
"What else?" Ryoma snapped.
"I heard about all of this from a man named Inui Juro. He's friendly with Kabuto's gang, and has even hidden some of them in his own home."
"What else can you tell me about Inui?"
"He's quite rash, if you know what I mean." Yonosuke uncharacteristically grinned. "In other words, Inui has deceived his friends by informing me, and apparently some others, of their scheme. But he felt obligated to do so because of all that I've told him about Katsu-sensei. Then, when Kabuto and the others found that Inui leaked their plan, they decided to kill him."
"And you want me to protect him," Ryoma said, shaking his head.
"If you could," Yonosuke said, bowing his head.
"How can I refuse?" Not only did Ryoma detest hearing of Japanese killing each other, but he was anxious to meet the man who could lead him to Kaishu's would-be assassins.
"Thank you, Sakamoto-san," Yonosuke said, again bowing his head.
"Where is Inui?"
"At his home in Osaka, I suppose."
"Well, let's go."
Arriving in Osaka late that afternoon, Ryoma and Yonosuke went directly to Inui's house. The sliding doors on the side of the house were open, and Inui's wife was sitting alone on the verandah. She started in fright at the sight of two men with swords approaching, but immediately relaxed when she recognized Yonosuke. "They've taken my husband," she cried, nervously eyeing Ryoma.
"Who's taken him?" Ryoma asked gruffly. He was not pleased with the way that the woman was staring at him, as if he were one of Kabuto's gang.
"Who is this man?" she asked Yonosuke, ignoring Ryoma's question.
"This is Tosa samurai Sakamoto Ryoma, my close friend."
Ryoma removed his long sword from his hip and sat down on a large rock
at the side of the house. He placed his sword on his lap, and plucked a reed
of grass from the moist ground.
"Kabuto and his men," the woman answered Ryoma's question, althou she was still obviously frightened of him.
"How many were there?" Ryoma asked, putting the reed in his mouth.
"About five or six."
"When did they take him?"
"Less than an hour ago."
"Which way did they go?" Ryoma spat out the reed of grass, and grippe the hilt of his sword. He was in a bad humor. After all, he was risking his Hi to save a man he did not even know, and the man's wife was treating him if he was one of the men who had abducted him.
"One of them hollered something about the mouth of the river."
"Which river?" Yonosuke asked.
"I don't know," the woman said, looking down.
"Must be the Ajikawa," Ryoma said. The main ship-landing in Osaka wa located just north of the estuary of the Ajikawa, which flowed into Osa Bay. Ryoma had landed at this spot several times while sailing with Kaishii "It's pretty desolate around that area," he said. "No houses. And not man-people pass by the mouth of the river, especially after dark. A perfect plac for a..."
The woman flinched. "For a killing," she murmured, as if resigned to the fact that she would never see her husband again.
"Yes, a killing," Ryoma said, stood up and thrust his sword through hi" sash. "Let's go, Yonosuke," he growled. "It's not far from here, but we' better hurry."
By the time Ryoma and Yonosuke reached the vicinity of the river mouthj the sun had disappeared from the evening sky. They walked quickly towards the coast, down a narrow path which led through a pine grove. Suddenly, they heard a loud scream, and Ryoma unlatched the sheath of his sword.
"This way," he said, then dashed through the pines toward the riverbank, with Yonosuke right behind.
Inui's hands and feet were tied to two bamboo stakes which had beenf driven into the soft mud along the riverbank. Six men stood in the dusk; huddled around him like a pack of wolves. One of them held the blunt edge of a sword across the bound man's throat.
"Go ahead, Kabuto, you coward," Inui gasped in pain. "Go ahead, kill me."
Kabuto was tall. His lean build evoked the image of a hungry wolf, and his; broad shoulders and long arms were telltale of his great physical strength. He wore a black kimono and hakama of coarse dark brown cloth. His thick black hair was tangled, and he had a long scar across one side of his face. "Shut up!" Kabuto roared, stuffing a wad of cloth into Inui's mouth. "This is what, happens to traitors," Kabuto snarled, kicking Inui in the groin.
"Sakamoto-san," Yonosuke whispered, "can you handle all six?"
"I'll take them without a fight," Ryoma said, and from this moment on Mutsu Yonosuke was devoted to Sakamoto Ryoma.
"Let him go!" a firm voice called out from the pine grove. All six men started, and turned around to see two samurai approaching in the dusk less than twenty paces away. The taller of the two, who held a drawn sword, squinted coldly at them.
"Who are you?" Kabuto growled.
"Sakamoto Ryoma of Tosa." Ryoma grinned menacingly. "Let him go!" he demanded, staring straight into Kabuto's eyes.
Yonosuke swallowed deeply, but remained steady by Ryoma's side.
"Sakamoto Ryoma?" Kabuto's face dropped, and he turned slightly, signaling to the others not to move. There was a mystique about Ryoma that affected all of them. Not only had Ryoma long been known in fencing circles around Edo as an expert swordsman and former head of the Chiba Dojo, but his name now evoked an enigmatic kudos. Although he was known as a leader of the Tosa Loyalists, and close friend of Takechi Hanpeita, he was also known as the right-hand man of the Tokugawa Navy Commissioner. And the very fact that Kabuto's gang had planned to assassinate Kaishu intensified the surprise of Ryoma's sudden appearance.
Kabuto started, as if to charge the imposing swordsman. "Stop!" Ryoma roared. "If you don't, I'll kill you."
Kabuto froze. Ryoma remained still, controlling his opponent with his eyes. It was now dark, and the silver light from the full moon glistened on the surface of the mouth of the river. Suddenly, one of the gang of six lurched toward the two intruders, and Ryoma raised his blade. "You move, you die," he said in a low voice.
"Put it away!" Kabuto ordered his man to resheathe his sword.
"Now, untie him," Ryoma said, never for an instant removing his eyes from Kabuto's.
"We'll untie him, Sakamoto. But things are not over between me and you. We have a score to settle."
"You can find me in Kobe. We can talk there. But now release this man."
"Talking is not what I have in mind, Sakamoto." Kabuto turned to his men. "Cut him free," he roared.
One of the men drew his short sword and cut Inui's arms and legs free from the bamboo stakes. The exhausted man, his face contorted in pain, fell like a dead weight to the muddy ground, and Yonosuke started toward him.
"Wait, Yonosuke," Ryoma said. "There's one more thing I have to tell you, Kabuto. If anything should happen to Katsu Kaishu, I'll kill you," he said, before slamming his sword back into its scabbard.
* * *
Kaishu had recently arranged for several instructors, trained at the Bakufu's Nagasaki Naval Institute, to teach at his Kobe academy, but Ryoma was too busy traveling between Osaka, Kyoto and Fukui to spend much time in formal navigational training. At the end of June, Kaishu sent Ryoma and Chojiro to Fukui's Kyoto headquarters to deliver a rifle as a token of appreciation for the loan received. Ryoma, however, had a more pressing reason for the visit. Outraged at the Bakufu for repairing the foreign warships which had attacked Choshu, he hoped to convince Fukui to realize changes witrr the Edo hierarchy in order to, as he had vowed in a recent letter to Otome|
"clean up Japan once and for all." He wanted to discuss the matter with
Murata Misaburo, a high ranking Fukui official in Kyoto. Although he had
never met Murata, Ryoma had heard that he was on friendly terms with both
Kaishu and Okubo, and of course, with Lord Shungaku.
A light summer rain seemed to hang in the thick, hot air when Ryoma and
Chojiro reached the great iron-studded oaken outer gate of Fukui headquar
ters. Having identified themselves as envoys of Katsu Kaishu, the two Tosa
samurai were led to the office of Murata, who, at age forty-two, was one of
Lord Shungaku's most trusted vassals.
"I am sure Lord Shungaku will appreciate the gift," Murata said, as he invited the two Tosa men to sit down. "I've never learned to shoot," he added, aiming the rifle. "Guns are so ignoble, hardly the proper weapon for a samurai."
"I understand your feelings," Ryoma said, "but you shouldn't forget that..."
"I know. Guns are essential to defend ourselves against the barbarians."
"And to overthrow the Bakufu," Ryoma thought to himself, but did not utter these words within the compounds of Fukui headquarters. Instead he; said, "Kaishu-sensei sends his deepest appreciation for Lord Shungaku's; generosity. But I've come here today to discuss more pressing matters."
"Oh?"
"It is of the utmost importance that we deal properly with the foreigners for bombarding Choshu. If we allow things to stand as they are now, with the barbarians having the upper hand, it will be very difficult for us to ever deal with them on equal terms. And so, this is not a time for any of us to stand by and watch as the barbarians do as they will to Choshu," Ryoma concluded.
"What do you suggest?" Murata asked.
"We must begin negotiations with the foreigners, and get them to leave Japan," Chojiro answered for Ryoma.
"After they have withdrawn," Ryoma interrupted, "then we can get on with the all-important task of putting the nation in order." Ryoma paused to choose his words carefully.
"Please continue," Murata said.
"To begin with, we must get rid of the corrupt officials who are in charge in Edo."
Murata winced slightly. "I appreciate your speaking your mind, but under the circumstances I think it would be wise for you to keep your voice down."
"I see," Ryoma said, but continued speaking in the same manner. "In order to get rid of the corrupt officials in Edo, we will need the help of Katsu Kaishu and Okubo Ichio, the only two men in the whole Edo government who are of any worth."
"Please," Murata interrupted, "You must remember that our han is directly related to the Tokugawa. What you are suggesting is treason."
"Call it what you will," Ryoma lowered his voice. "But I am only considering the welfare of Japan." Ryoma was not about to back down, despite the troubled look in Murata's eyes. "Besides Katsu and Okubo, we will need to ask Lord Shungaku and the Tosa daimyo," Ryoma said, despite his bitter feelings for Lord Yodo, "and two or three other leading daimyo, to come to Kyoto to discuss these plans."
"Have you mentioned your ideas to Katsu-sensei?"
"No. I thought it would be more effective if he heard them directly from you. All I am is a..."
"I have a fairly good idea what you are." Murata looked at both Tosa men with amused scorn. "I've heard quite a lot about you and your men from Katsu and Lord Shungaku both. But, you seem to be forgetting one very important point."
"Which is?" Chojiro asked.
"Choshu was careless for attacking the foreign ships in the first place."
Ryoma nodded in agreement.
"And so," Murata continued, "even if we should succeed in convincing the barbarians to leave of their own free will, we must pay indemnities to them for the damages caused by Choshu. Otherwise, Japan will be branded a rogue nation by the rest of the world." Murata paused to take a deep breath. "And that would certainly be no way to ensure peace. However, with the Imperial Court praising Choshu's conduct, it is going to be very difficult to pay these indemnities."
"What you say makes sense," Ryoma said, "but..." he paused, pounded his right fist into his left palm, "the Choshu men are willing to die for Japan. This is something that the corrupt officials in Edo have completely ignored. They're only concerned about themselves, and the House of Tokugawa." Ryoma stopped speaking. A surge of outrage filled him, but he was careful not to be controlled by his emotions. "The Bakufu has ignored Choshu's courage, instead of praising it as it should. Can't you see? The Bakufu is rotten to the core."
"Calm down!" shouted the minister of the former political director of the Bakufu, obviously disturbed.
"When the Bakufu should be aiding Choshu," Ryoma said angrily, unable to calm down, "it looks the other way, and even helps the foreigners get the upper hand. With things as they are now, there's no telling when Choshu, unable to control its rage, will attack Edo, burn the capital, and destroy the foreign settlement at Yokohama. If that happens, we will certainly have a war on our hands. At any rate, the present Bakufu officials must be gotten rid of immediately, and negotiations conducted with the foreigners to convince them to leave Japan."
"What if the foreigners should refuse?"
Ryoma stared hard at Murata. "If they should refuse to leave even after we have explained why it is of the utmost importance for them to back off for now, then our whole nation must unite to drive them out," Ryoma said.
"That would mean that the whole nation would have to face annihilation just because Choshu has acted rashly. But we must do what our sovereign deems to be right. You must not be partial to Choshu in this matter."
"I agree that Choshu was wrong for attacking the foreign ships in the fi place. But," Ryoma slapped his knee, "that's not the most important issue. What we have to do now is clean up the mess in Edo by getting rid of the co rupt Bakufu officials. In other words, I ask that you immediately send lette to Katsu, Okubo and Lord Shungaku to urge their support in this matter."
Ryoma was unable to convince Lord Shungaku's vassal of the necessity "cleaning up Japan." Frustrated, he sent Chojiro back to Kobe headquarte and went alone to Choshu's Kyoto headquarters, only a short walk from Fukui residence. The sun was about to set in the overcast sky and the rain h stopped as he walked eastward along Oike Road, then, increasing his pace turned left at Kawaramachi Road which ran parallel to the Takasegawa. i
"Sakamoto-san," a samurai called as Ryoma approached the outer gate o Choshu headquarters, near the canal. This was Ito Shunsuke.
"Where can I find Kusaka?" Ryoma asked, drawing a grim look from th Choshu man.
"Please," Ito said, gesturing toward the building, "let's talk inside." Sin the attacks on foreign ships, the Bakufu had been going to all extreme to monitor the activities of the Choshu radicals, who now dominate!} the Imperial Court. Recently the Lord of Aizu, who was a close relative! of the Shogun and the Bakufu's Protector of Kyoto, had established the Shinsengumi, a crack police force made up entirely of expert swordsmen, which patrolled the streets of Kyoto to arrest or kill suspected dissidents.
"Kusaka is in Choshu," Ito told Ryoma once the two were safely inside Choshu headquarters.
"Where's Katsura?" Ryoma asked, wiping his sweaty brow with his sleeve. Ryoma hadn't seen Katsura Kogoro in several years, and was anxious to speak with him. Although Katsura was indeed intent on overthrowing the Bakufu, Ryoma suspected that he was not the extremist that Kusaka was, and rightly assumed that he had not supported the attacks on foreign ships.
"Katsura is here in Kyoto," Ito said, then explained that Katsura had been sent to the Imperial capital for secret negotiations with court nobles and representatives of various clans, particularly Tosa and Satsuma, in an aim to unite forces to topple the Bakufu.
"Where can I find him?" Ryoma asked.
Ito gave Ryoma a hard look. "That's secret, but I think I can trust you, Sakamoto-san."
"Well, I'm glad to hear that," Ryoma snickered.
Ito maintained a severe expression. "Katsura is in Sanbongi this evening. But please keep his whereabouts a secret."
Sanbongi, one of several pleasure quarters in Kyoto, was a common meeting place for both revolutionaries and men of the Bakufu. Its proximity to the Imperial Palace and the homes of court nobles made Sanbongi particularly suitable to the Loyalists, and it was in the brothels of this quarter that political intrigue on both sides was carried on nightly. Katsura's favorite house in Sanbongi was the Yoshidaya inn.
That evening Ryoma and Ito walked down a narrow cobblestone street lined on both sides with quaint, latticed wooden houses. In front of each house burned a red lantern, and just behind the row of houses on the east side was the Kamogawa. The Yoshidaya was among these houses.
Having passed through the thatched wooden gate of the Yoshidaya, the two samurai were greeted by an elderly woman, who, recognizing the Choshu man, led them down a dark paneled hallway, then up a narrow stairway to a spacious tatami room on the second floor, where Katsura was drinking sake in the company of a young girl. In the wooden alcove behind Katsura were his two swords, set in a wooden rack, next to which was a white ceramic flower vase with purple irises. On the wall behind the alcove hung a scroll of a mountain landscape drawn in black Chinese ink.
"Sakamoto-san," Katsura said, standing up as Ryoma entered the room. "This is a pleasant surprise." At thirty, Katsura had noticeably aged since Ryoma had last seen him. His face looked weary, but his eyes had not lost their intensity forged through years of training with the sword. "Please sit down," he said, then turning to the girl, "Ikumatsu, bring us
more sake."
Ikumatsu was the reason why Katsura's visit to the Yoshidaya was secret. She was twenty-one years old, and her face looked as though it had been carved from ivory. She was not beautiful, but the dark almond eyes, the small nose and the perfect flower-petal lips painted crimson formed a pretty and intelligent face. She wore a kimono of yellow silk, with flower patterns of brilliant red, pale blue, soft pink and dark green. Her thick raven hair was done up artistically in the fashion of the day, with a simple wooden comb arranged near the center, and a black lacquered ornamental hairpin in the back. Ikumatsu was a favorite among the men who came to be entertained at the Sanbongi pleasure quarter, but Katsura was her only lover.
Ikumatsu was by no means a harlot. Unlike the geisha of Edo, it was required that the geigi, or "artistic girls," of Kyoto be both refined in manners and accomplished at singing, dancing and playing the three-stringed shamisen.
Katsura had first met her in the summer of the previous year, soon after being sent to Kyoto as the Choshu emissary for secret negotiations with other Loyalists. Although the young girl's grace had charmed Katsura, it was her razor-sharp wit that had most attracted him. Finally, realizing that he must have Ikumatsu for his own, Katsura took the necessary measures to free the girl from the contract which bound her to her present occupation. Even after buying Ikumatsu's freedom, however, Katsura continued to have her entertain other men at Sanbongi. But she became a free agent, working at several different houses, and on occasion entertaining representatives of the Bakufu. It was for good reason, then, that Katsura was compelled to keep his affair with the popular "artistic girl" confidential: Ikumatsu was his personal spy. Although Katsura detested the idea of his lover entertaining other men, the information she was able to extract at these parties was invaluable the revolution. Over the past several months Katsura had tutored Ikumats on the current political situation so that she would best be able to perform her surveillant duties. Although the enemies of Choshu were not apt to on at the mouth about secrets of state, after enough sake had been poured there were more than a few occasions when secret information became the subject of drunken talk. And since the girls who entertained at the teahous and brothels were known to be generally politically uninformed, men who would normally be on their guard felt relaxed in the company of their pretty companions.
"Katsura-san," Ryoma said after Ikumatsu had left the room, "about the bombardment of Shimonoseki..."
"Ah, yes," Katsura said nervously. "Before we talk about that, please sit down, Sakamoto-san. You too, Shunsuke."
The three men sat in the formal position, and presently Ikumatsu returned to the room with sake.
"I've been trying to convince certain people I know to do something about the treachery in Edo," Ryoma said.
"What treachery?" Ito asked blankly.
"Repairing the foreign ships that have attacked Choshu. We must clean up Japan by getting rid of the corrupt officials in Edo who are only concerned for themselves."
"Attacking foreign ships was stupid." Katsura said. "Kusaka's a maniac. He has a one-track mind, and must be controlled. We had no business firing on the foreign ships in the first place. As much as I hate to admit it, we got what we deserved."
Ryoma winced slightly, but remained silent.
"But now that we've been defeated," Katsura continued, "I think that even J Kusaka himself is convinced that we are not ready to fight the foreigners. Not yet." Then pausing, he said, "But, Sakamoto-san, I've heard some interesting things about you recently."
"Not all bad, I hope."
"I've heard about your work at the naval academy of Katsu Kaishu." Katsura was impressed with the navy commissioner. The two had met in Edo earlier in the year, and spoken at great length about the necessity of developing Japan's navy, conducting free trade, and the idea of an alliance among Asian nations. "Katsu is one of the few Tokugawa officials of any worth," Katsura said. "I'm particularly interested in his ideas for an Asian alliance. There's not a single country in Asia that's offering any resistance to the Western powers. Instead, we're all imitating them. None of us are pursuing a farsighted policy of our own. Before it's too late, we must dispatch emissaries to impress strongly on the leaders of all Asian countries that their very survival depends on all of us banding together to avoid subjugation by the West."
"Yes," Ryoma said, "we should start with Korea, our nearest neighbor, then go to China."
"But our cannon are still no match for foreign artillery," Katsura continued. "Our warships can't compete with foreign warships. And so, we can't even defend our own shores. We must improve our technology."
"And how can we raise the money to finance this?" Ryoma asked.
"By conducting international trade?"
Ryoma now realized that Katsura's ideas had developed in much the same way as his own. Although the Choshu man had once adamantly opposed opening Japan, he too had changed.
"International commerce will be vital to our success," Katsura said. "We can no longer isolate ourselves from the rest of the world. Only by opening Japan can we eventually expel the barbarians." Then with a snicker he added, "Ironic, don't you think?"
"Yes," Ryoma said. "And what's more, we must go beyond the concept of individual clans. Unless we unite together, we don't stand a chance of toppling the Bakufu, much less defending ourselves against the foreigners. You mentioned an Asian alliance. But how can we expect to achieve one if we can't even unite among ourselves? I've tried to explain this to Hanpeita, but he'll never understand. The most important thing for all of us is to form a strong nation, a nation that can compete with the rest of the world."
"Sakamoto-san," Katsura interrupted, glancing at Ikumatsu, "I have received some very disturbing information this evening. I have reason to believe that Satsuma is plotting to join forces with Aizu to drive Choshu and the rest of the Loyalists out of Kyoto." Katsura returned his eyes to Ryoma. "And I suspect that Satsuma and Aizu support Edo's ploy to suppress the Emperor's campaign against the barbarians."
The anti-Bakufu Loyalists in Kyoto, led by Choshu, had never been as powerful as they were now in the summer of 1863. It seemed that they had gained the complete backing of the Imperial Court, while those in favor of a Union of Court and Camp were at their wits' ends trying to suppress them. And so, at the bidding of Edo, Satsuma was secretly planning to destroy Choshu.
Choshu's glory in Kyoto was a direct result of two recent events. The first was the attack on foreign ships at Shimonoseki, an act that immediately endeared Choshu to the xenophobes at court. The other was the assassination of the radical court noble Anenokoji Kintomo in May, three days before Choshu fired on the French ship. Anenokoji was cut down just outside Sakuhei Gate, one of the nine Forbidden Gates of the Imperial Palace. Although the identity of the assassin was never confirmed, the sword of a Satsuma samurai was found at the scene of the murder. When this man was questioned by the Aizu authorities in charge of policing Kyoto, he insisted that his sword had been recently stolen at a Kyoto brothel. When the sword was subsequently shown him, he asked to be allowed to have a closer look at the weapon. His request granted and the sword handed him, the expert swordsman drew the blade with lightning speed, and right before the eyes of the startled authorities, plunged it into his own belly. Although it could not be confirmed that the Satsuma man was indeed Anenokoji's assassin, the suicide was taken as admission of guilt, and Satsuma consequently fell from Imperial grace.
The shady circumstances of the assassination of this champion of anti-foreign Imperial Loyalism belied the Loyalists' convictions, and shrouded the already blood-soaked stage of Kyoto in an eerie shadow of intrigue. Some suspected that Choshu's ally Takechi Hanpeita, in an effort to destroy Satsuma's prestige at court, was the mastermind behind the murder. Others,' particularly the Satsuma men, suspected that Choshu agents had killed Anenokoji, and planted the Satsuma man's stolen sword at the scene of the; crime; while Choshu blamed Satsuma, saying that the Satsuma daimyo, who loathed the Loyalist rebels, wanted the radical noble eliminated.
Satsuma's suspicions were not unfounded. Until this time Satsuma had been in charge of guarding the Imperial Palace, but Choshu had now used the uncertain evidence of Satsuma guilt to secure the dismissal of its rival's troops from the coveted guard duty. Choshu furthered its cause by convincing the radicals at court to produce an Imperial edict authorizing a campaign against the foreigners, which would be tantamount to declaring Expelling the Barbarians a national policy. Choshu and the court radicals were planning to drive the foreigners out of the settlements at Yokohama, Hakodate andi Nagasaki as an initial step toward toppling the Bakufu.
All of this occurred during the "Sweltering Summer of Frenzy," despite the reluctance of Emperor Komei, who more than anything else desired harmony in the nation in order that Japan might be strong enough to defend itself; against foreign invasion. The Emperor secretly detested the extremists-both samurai of the various clans and nobles of the court-who claimed to f revere him, but who were actually wreaking havoc throughout his capital, Furthermore, the Emperor was deeply concerned for the safely of his sister who was now married to the Shogun, and living in Edo Castle. Worried that an attack on the Edo regime might mean death to the princess, the Emperor issued a secret edict to the Lord of Satsuma, ordering him to restore order in f Kyoto. Since the Choshu men were still unaware of this edict, the information that Ikumatsu was able to uncover left Katsura puzzled as to the real reason for Satsuma's alliance with Aizu.
"I can understand such behavior from Aizu because of its close relation-1 ship with the Bakufu," Ryoma said disgustedly, "But Satsuma? What could possibly compel Satsuma to act against the Emperor?"
"Satsuma will stop at nothing to destroy Choshu," Katsura said bitterly, J "as its first step toward establishing a Satsuma Bakufu."
Suddenly Ryoma burst out laughing.
"Why do you laugh?" Ito asked, obviously annoyed. "What we're talking about is of utmost importance. There's nothing funny about it."
"It's not what we're talking about that's funny," Ryoma said. "But the three of us sitting here like this has just struck me as absurd. We can sit around and talk forever, but unless we act, we'll never get anything accomplished."
"You're absolutely right," Katsura said. "But there's one thing I want you to realize: Satsuma cannot be trusted."
As Katsura now informed, on the previous night, Katsura's lover-spy had uncovered some very important information. Entertaining a gathering of Satsuma samurai, Ikumatsu discovered that this han was secretly aiming to enlist the cooperation of Aizu to crush Choshu, and thereby regain its position of Imperial grace. Both Aizu and Satsuma, albeit for different reasons, resented Choshu's rise to power, and both were anxious to suppress its subversive activities.
"We must be patient," Ryoma urged. "We mustn't draw our swords until the time is right. In the mean time, I m going to develop a navy."
"You're absolutely right," Katsura said, refilling Ryoma's cup.
Ryoma left the Yoshidaya early next morning, and walked southward along Kawaramachi Road, with the canal on his left. On the opposite side of the canal was a boat-landing from where he would catch a riverboat to Osaka, just a short way from Kobe. His head ached from too much drink, the heat was stifling and he was anxious to get back to the naval academy.
There was not a cloud in the crystal blue sky as Ryoma passed Choshu headquarters without incident, and a few minutes later turned left toward the canal to cross the Sanjo Bridge. As he approached the foot of the bridge he heard a voice calling from behind, and immediately turned around to face a dozen men walking toward him. Three of them wielded long spears, one carried a white banner emblazoned in red with the Chinese character for "sincerity," the mark of the Shinsengumi. All twelve men wore jackets of pale blue with broad stripes on the sleeves.
"Halt!" the voice called. A vicious-eyed man who stood at the front of the group placed his right hand on the hilt of his sword without drawing the blade.
Ryoma unlatched the sheath of his sword with his right hand, and stood motionless.
"I'm Hijikata Toshizo of the Shinsengumi, patrolling Kyoto under the authority of the Lord of Aizu, the Protector of Kyoto." The man spoke brusquely with a rising intonation, an accent of the province of Musashi, just southwest of Edo. "Identify yourself," he demanded, though from the workmanship of Ryoma's sword he had already identified him as a Tosa samurai.
The Shinsengumi had been established in the previous March under the command of the Lord of Aizu to put a stop to the rampant assassinations in and around Kyoto. It was a unique police force, whose sole purpose was to arrest or kill ronin and other suspected anti-Bakufu rebels. Rather than samurai from the elite classes of Tokugawa retainers which manned other Bakufu police units, the crack police force consisted of over one hundred ronin, the toughest that could be enlisted. The Bakufu felt that the best means to combat ronin would be with other ronin. "Fight fire with fire, and terror with terror," reasoned the Edo government, in an effort to control and suppress the radicals who had turned Kyoto into a bloodbath. And to this end, the Bakufu was successful. In less than a year, the Shinsengumi would become the most feared police force in Japanese history.
"Shinsengumi," Ryoma said, grinning diabolically. He had heard that this band had recently cut down several Loyalists without even trying to arrest them. "For the Lord of Aizu?" he scoffed. "So what? I'm Sakamoto Ryoma, retainer of Katsu Kaishu, the navy commissioner of the Tokugawa Bakufu. What do you want?"
"Sakamoto Ryoma?" The man repeated the name, slowly nodding his head. Despite Ryoma's special relationship with Kaishu, his name was also associated with the Tosa and Choshu radicals. "Nothing now," the man replied with an icy calm, but Ryoma could sense that these were dangerous men, impeccable swordsmen who would not hesitate, if given the chance, to cut him down.
* * *
Upon his return to Kobe that evening, Ryoma found that Kaishu was in Edo on official business. He burned with indignation at the Bakufu, and to ease his own mind until Kaishu's return, spent the following days with his men training under the maritime experts whom Kaishu had recruited for the academy. Then, on the day before Kaishu was to return, news reached Ryoma of an event in Satsuma which would hasten the course of history.
On July 2, about one month after the Americans and French had bombarded Choshu, a fierce battle was waged on Kagoshima Bay, between Satsuma forces and seven British warships.
Although Edo had little choice but to make the formal apology and agree to pay the indemnities as demanded by the British for the Namamugi Incident, it was unable to force Satsuma to either pay or hand over the murderer of the Englishman Richardson. In fact, this inability of Edo to control its vassals caused serious damage to its credibility among the foreign powers, as indicated in the memoirs of Sir Ernest Satow, serving at the time as interpreter to the British minister in Japan, "...we had serious doubts about the Bakufu. We saw that they are not supreme, or rather not omnipotent... Then the murder of Richardson and the impotence of the Bakufu to punish his murderers showed us that their authority did not extend as far as Satsuma"
After months of unsuccessful negotiation at Edo, the British decided to approach Satsuma directly, despite repeated warnings by the Bakufu to refrain from such dangerous action. On June 22, the British dispatched a squadron of seven warships from Yokohama to Kagoshima Castletown of Satsuma Han. Early in the morning of June 28, the British squadron sailed through Kagoshima Bay under the hot Kyushu sun which burnt as fiercely as the eyes of the hundreds of Satsuma warriors watching from the batteries along the coast and the lookout posts in the mountains above. Here the British anchored in full view of Kagoshima Castle to the west, the volcanic peak of Sakurajima to the east, and summoned Satsuma officials to board the flagship Euryalus to receive their demands. The Satsuma authorities thereupon insisted that they could not be held responsible for Richardson's death, since it had been caused by negligence on the part of Edo. Satsuma pointed out that the Bakufu had failed to indicate in its foreign treaties the Japanese law that a person showing disrespect for a daimyo procession was liable to be cut down on the spot. Satsuma did, however, insist that a thorough search for the murderer was being made, but the British were not to be duped.
Frustrated by Satsuma's adamancy, the British took coercive action at dawn of July 2, seizing three steamers Satsuma had recently purchased from Western traders in Nagasaki. The Satsuma officials interpreted this as an act of war, and all hell broke loose.
Confident that their defenses were adequate to stave off the British, at noon of the same day the Satsuma warriors opened fire on the squadron with eighty-three cannon from ten batteries along the coast. The first shot hit the deck of the flagship Euryalus, decapitating the captain. The British retaliated by looting and burning Satsuma steamers, and soon after, by opening fire with their superior Armstrong guns, setting the wooden buildings of the coastal town ablaze. "It was an awful and magnificent sight" wrote Satow, who witnessed the battle from shipboard, "the sky all filled with a cloud of smoke lit up from below by the pointed masses of pale fire."
The British left Kagoshima Bay the following day, but word soon reached Satsuma of plans for another attack. Although the Satsuma men had fought well, like Choshu, they had learned a valuable lesson: their inferior weaponry was no match for Western artillery and warships. Eventual negotiation in Edo between the adversaries led to a peace agreement, according to which Satsuma acquiesced to pay the indemnities. Concerning the demand that the murderer of Richardson be punished, Satsuma humored the British by agreeing, but actually had no such intention. Instead, the han merely waited for Britain to forget its demand, as it eventually did, and from this time on Satsuma and Britain were staunch allies.
* * *
On the evening after hearing of the British shelling of Kagoshima, Ryoma sat in his room at Kobe headquarters with his eight closest comrades. The nineteen-year-old samurai from Kii, Mutsu Yonosuke, was the only one among them not of Tosa. Yonosuke's impassivity notwithstanding, his razor-sharp wit had recently convinced Ryoma to appoint him to the post of secretary of the naval academy. Sawamura Sonojo, also nineteen, had by now abandoned his xenophobic sentiments, as his young mind expanded under the guidance of Katsu Kaishu. Kondo Chojiro, the bean jam bun maker's son whose eyes betrayed an insatiable hunger for knowledge, was twenty-five, three years younger than Ryoma. The peasant's son Umanosuke, twenty-seven, had been close to Ryoma since early adolescence when they practiced kenjutsu together at the Hineno Dojo in Kochi. After Ryoma, he was the oldest of the group, and the only commoner. Takamatsu Taro, at age twenty, was more like a younger brother to Ryoma than a nephew. Chiya Toranosuke, the village headman's son, had changed his outlook completely since joining Ryoma and Kaishu. Although less than a year before he had been involved in several murders of proponents of Opening the Country, Tora, at twenty-one was now a firm believer in the need to modernize Japan. Even Mochizuki, Kameyata, who at twenty-five had been the hardest of the eight for Ryoma to win over, now understood the necessity to open Japan, albeit he had not completely thrown off his xenophobic sentiments. Yasuoka Kanema's enthusiasm to learn navigation had recently earned the nineteen-year-old the special praise of the navy commissioner himself.
"It doesn't take great powers of deduction to figure out that the corrupt officials in Edo are glad for the free military support they've been getting from the foreigners," Ryoma said bitterly.
"It's a crime," Sonojo groaned.
"First Choshu, and now Satsuma," Tora seethed.
"The Bakufu's behavior is inexcusable," Ryoma concluded. Upon hearing of the attack on the previous night, Ryoma had made his feelings known to Kaishu. While the navy commissioner sympathized with Ryoma's contempt for the corruption in Edo, his position within the government made it impossible for him to voice his feelings. Of this Ryoma was well aware. "Best to have Katsu in a position of authority," Ryoma had told his men earlier, when asked about his mentor's stance concerning the outrage, "while we do the dirty work."
* * *
Choshu's deepest fears turned into a nightmare after Aizu and Satsuma reached a final agreement in mid-August, giving Satsuma and Tokugawa sympathizers at court influence over Imperial decree. The stage was now set for a coup d'etat in Kyoto, and a dramatic reversal of the Loyalists' fortunes. On August 18, under the cover of night, the Lord of Aizu entered the Imperial Palace, while heavily armed Satsuma and Aizu troops seized the nine Forbidden Gates. Soon after, five feudal lords, including the young Tosa daimyo, under Imperial decree, led their own troops to fortify the Imperial guard of Aizu and Satsuma, barring entrance to the palace by radical court nobles, Choshu samurai and all other Loyalists. In the still of the night the boom of a single cannon shot-a signal to the Emperor that the palace had been completely sealed off-awoke the startled champions of Imperial Loyalism at court, who now discovered that they no longer had access to the Emperor.
The Choshu troops responded by storming one of the Forbidden Gates, but to no avail. Like the eight other entrances to the palace, it too had been seized by their heavily armed Satsuma and Aizu foes. Betrayed, the Choshu men aimed their cannon at the gate, but when they received a written order from the Emperor to immediately retreat, this most dedicated of all Loyalist clans had to obey, or else be branded an "Imperial Enemy."
The defeated Choshu Loyalists, led by Kusaka Genzui and Katsura Kogoro, retreated to a temple in the hills just east of the city. Realizing that Choshu alone could not defeat the combined forces of Satsuma, Aizu, Tosa and Fukui, the Loyalists returned to Choshu to plan a countercoup. Into exile with them went the idol of anti-foreign Imperial Loyalism, Lord Sanjo Sanetomi, and six other radical court nobles. The political stage in Kyoto had taken a complete turnabout in a single night, as the pro-Bakufu faction at court regained power.
* * *
Having been in Edo since the beginning of August, Ryoma did not hear of the coup in Kyoto until several days after the event. The news of the Loyalists' defeat came as a great blow to Ryoma, and he directed his anger at all parties involved. He denounced the Union of Court and Camp as a fallacy which would only serve Tokugawa interest. He detested the rivalry among Satsuma and Choshu, who, he argued, should be cooperating with each other to topple the Bakufu. But he was most critical of the rashness of the Loyalists themselves, because, after all, their loss was his.
Ryoma had known that Hanpeita's reign of terror in Kyoto, Choshu's attack on foreign ships, and the Loyalists' plan for a Satsuma-Choshu-Tosa alliance under Imperial rule were doomed from the start. It seemed ludicrous to him that his comrades would aim to expel the foreigners and bring the Emperor to power without first establishing a concrete plan of government for when and after the Tokugawa had been overthrown. Hanpeita's idea of financing his plans through money extorted from wealthy merchants in Osaka had revolted him. He spurned the blind faith that led the extremists to believe that as long as they were willing to die to uphold their moral obligations, everything else would naturally fall into place, despite the very real threat of the Western powers.
Ryoma's indignation was not without good reason. Not only did he detest the waste of life, but he also worried more than ever that, unless the Japanese could somehow unite, the foreigners would take advantage of the inner turmoil and subjugate Japan like they had China. But for the time being, he was even more concerned with the immediate ramifications that the coup would have for Takechi Hanpeita and his other comrades in Tosa, and so decided to discuss the matter with Kaishu. He knew that if he himself returned to Tosa to try once more to convince his friends to join him in Kobe, he would also be subject to arrest as a charter member of Hanpeita's outlawed Loyalist Party.
Ryoma was staying at the Chiba house in Edo. One afternoon in late August, just as he was planning to ask for Kaishu's help, he received a message from his mentor summoning him to his home immediately. When Ryoma reached the sloped road below Kaishu's house, with the high stone wall built into the hill, and just beyond this the old Shinto shrine, he recalled that night less than one year before, when he and Jutaro had contemplated assassinating Kaishu. "A lot has happened since then," he thought, increased his pace and soon passed through the front gate of Kaishu's house. "Sensei!" he called from the doorway. The front door was slightly open, and Kaishu' appeared from the dark hallway, a worried look on his face.
"Come in, Ryoma," he said gravely. "I have something very serious to discuss with you."
Kaishu's wife served cool barley tea on this hot afternoon, then left the two men alone in the study. "What is it?" Ryoma asked anxiously, his face covered with sweat.
Kaishu began speaking much slower than usual. "Do you realize how the political change in Kyoto has affected Tosa?" he asked, taking a fan from his desk and waving it in front of his face. "I'm quite certain that Takechi Hanpeita and the rest of your friends in Tosa are in grave danger."
Ryoma was not surprised by such comments from this high-ranking Tokugawa official. He knew that Kaishu was more concerned for the welfare of Japan than for the regime he represented. He also understood Kaishu's concern for the safety of the very men who were intent on toppling the Bakufu. After all, hadn't Kaishu accepted him and his radical friends, most of whom were members of the Tosa Loyalist Party? Ryoma realized that his mentor loathed the waste of life that the Bakufu and now Lord Yodo were planning.
"I've been worried about the same thing," Ryoma said. "I'd like to ask you if there is some way you could intervene, to convince Lord Yodo not to do anything drastic." Ryoma wiped his sweaty forehead with his dirty sleeve. "He's already ordered three good men to commit seppuku" he said bitterly.
"With the Bakufu supporters restored to power in the Kyoto court, and the Loyalists banned, Lord Yodo is in a perfect position to arrest all of the Tosa Loyalists. If I know him, he's apt to either have them executed or order them to commit seppuku. All I can do is write to him, urging that he use discretion, and be lenient with those men." Kaishu paused, a grim look on his face. "But I know him quite well: he's extremely headstrong, and I doubt that he'll be willing to take my advice on matters concerning his own domain."
"If anything should happen to Hanpeita," Ryoma said excitedly, "there's no telling how the Tosa men at Kobe headquarters would react. Men like Tora, Sonojo, Kame and Taro are very hotheaded. In fact, I'd like to get back there as soon as possible. Without ships at our so-called naval academy, they have nothing to do but think about what's going on back in Tosa, and quarrel among themselves."
"That's another reason I summoned you here," Kaishu said. "It looks like we might be able to get a hold of two Western-style warships for training purposes. I've been negotiating with some of the people at Edo Castle, and the prospects look good."
"Sensei," Ryoma exploded, grabbing Kaishu's wrist, "while we're training aboard those ships, we can start a shipping business, transporting merchandise up and down the coast. We already have the crew, even if we aren't very well trained yet. We could get some of the daimyo to invest in us, pay for the lease of the ship, and if things go well, we'd have enough money to buy some ships of our own."
Kaishu raised his right hand, as if to calm his riled protege. "Don't jump to conclusions. I didn't say we have the ships yet." He paused for an instant. "But why don't you talk to Okubo about it. I'll arrange for a meeting between the two of you. The foreign minister has told me himself that he thinks quite highly of you. If anyone can convince him to help us get those ships, you can."
"I see," Ryoma said halfheartedly.
"Oh, I almost forgot," Kaishu said, grinning now. "I have something for you." He stood up and walked over to a stack of books in a corner of the study. "Once we do get our own ships, you're going to need this," he said, handing Ryoma a cloth-bound volume.
"The Practical Navigator;" Ryoma read the title aloud.
"Yes, a must for all sailors. Nakahama Manjiro translated it from the English. It's one of the seventeen or eighteen books he brought back with him from the United States. And I'll tell you a secret: without this little book, I'm not sure we ever would have made it across the Pacific," Kaishu said, referring to the expedition he commanded to the United States three years before. "But anyway, Ryoma, you can plan to see Okubo tomorrow. I have an appointment with him tonight, and I'll tell him to expect you. As for the letter to Yodo, I'll write it immediately."
"Thank you," Ryoma said, bowed, then left Kaishu alone in his study.
"With a fleet of warships we could topple the Tokugawa," Ryoma said aloud to himself as he walked through the front gate of Kaishu's house, then descended the narrow winding road which led to the city below.
The Fall of Master Zuizan
The long hot summer of the third year of the Era ofBunkyu had ended. The events which had occurred during these months not only spelled disasert for the Choshu radicals, but also led to the downfall of Takechi Hanpeita Loyalist Party, as the pro-Bakufu faction, backed by Aizu and Satsu regained power at the Imperial Court.
Meanwhile, Ryoma s band of men, most of them former Loyalists, enjoy safe haven at the naval academy of Katsu Kaishu, while Ryoma himself enjoyed close relations with four of the leading men in the regime he would overthrow. Ryoma's relationships with Lord Matsudaira Shungaku ofFukuil Shungaku s Chief Political Advisor Yokoi Shonan, the Bakufu 's Minister of Foreign Affairs Okubo Ichio, and of course Navy Commissioner Katsu Kaishu, promised to serve the future interests of the former outlaw. In the meantime, however, he had no choice but to live up to the vow he had made to his sister "to keep my nose to the ground, like a clam in the mud, " spending the end of the Sweltering Summer of Frenzy idle and anxious in Edo, while his Choshu allies had been expelled from Kyoto and Hanpeita's Loyalist Party was about to meet its end at the hands of Yamanouchi Yodo.
With Lord Yodo's departure from Edo at the beginning of 1863, the Tosa Loyalists slowly began losing their grip on Tosa policy, as the former faction' of Yoshida Toyo regained power. While Yodo advocated Imperial Reverence, he insisted on working within the structure of the Bakufu, thus his support of a Union of Court and Camp. And although he had been placed under house arrest by Ii Naosuke, with the restoration to power of his colleagues Lord Shungaku of Fukui and Lord Yoshinobu of Mito, the highly respected Lord of Tosa now wielded significant influence in the Edo government.
Upon his arrival to Kyoto in January, in order to suppress intrigue among the Loyalists, Yodo forbade all Tosa samurai from visiting other domains for any reason but official business, and even from associating with men of other han. While in Kyoto, he consulted with leaders of the Union of Court and Camp faction, including the Lord of Satsuma, to find a way to deter the Loyalists who dominated the Imperial Court. Then, at the end of March, the Lord of Tosa returned to his own domain after an eight-year absence.
Although he had ordered three leading Tosa Loyalists to commit sep-puku in June, Yodo was more cautious with Hanpeita. Harsh treatment of the Loyalist Party leader, Yodo feared, might spark a dangerous backlash from the Imperial Court, which was still controlled by the Choshu Loyalists, unless he could produce evidence of Hanpeita's involvement in a serious crime. It was at this time that Yodo set out to investigate the murder of Yoshida Toyo. Unable to come up with proper evidence, however, it was not until the Loyalists were banished from the Imperial capital in August that Yodo would feel safe in dealing with his errant vassal as he saw fit.
Takechi Hanpeita sat before Yamanouchi Yodo in a spacious drawing room at the retired lord's residence in Kochi Castle one hot summer evening. They had been talking all afternoon, and the sun had just set, as a dark orange light filtered through the open windows and fell gloomily over the faces of the two men. Yodo, as usual, had been drinking since early in the day.
Since returning to Kochi-even after three of his lieutenants had been ordered to commit seppuku-Hanpeita continued to prod Yodo concerning Tosa policy, to convince him to unite Tosa with Choshu behind the Imperial Court.
"My Lord," Hanpeita spoke slowly, "although you often speak of your obligation to the Tokugawa, certainly you can't compare a mere two hundred years of goodwill with two thousand years of Imperial favor."
Yodo laughed derisively. "Hanpeita, don't put words into my mouth," he said, avoiding a straight answer.
"Then let me ask you this, My Lord: what of my suggestion for filling important positions with men of ability rather than lineage?" Although Hanpeita knew that he was treading on dangerous ground in thus pressuring the elitist Lord Yodo, his own sense of grandeur-not to mention readiness to die-urged him on.
"I've considered your suggestion," Yodo said bluntly, then took a sip from his sake cup.
"Extraordinary times," Hanpeita boldly continued, staring straight into his lord's glassy, bloodshot eyes, "necessitate extraordinary ability."
Yodo not only considered himself the most extraordinary man in his own realm, but one of the most able feudal lords in the entire nation. He looked at his vassal with amused scorn. "Hanpeita," he snickered, "certainly you can't think that there is anyone in all of Tosa who knows that better than I do." Yodo refused to take Hanpeita seriously. Recently, Yodo had replaced those officials who had been in charge during the heyday of the Tosa Loyalist Party with the disciples of Yoshida Toyo, ordering the latter to investigate the regent's assassination. The shake-up, in fact, left Hanpeita politically powerless.
"Of course not, My Lord." Hanpeita, who was unused to bowing to anyone, bowed his head to the floor. But Hanpeita was certain, albeit mistakenly, that he had won the favor and trust of the retired daimyo, and so felt this a worthy sacrifice. "Nevertheless," he said, "the times compel only the best of us to lead," Hanpeita dared utter.
Yodo avoided a direct answer. "Here, here," he said, holding up the sake flask to pour Hanpeita a drink. "Go ahead, Hanpeita. It will do you good."
Hanpeita hesitated, but unable to refuse his lord's hospitality, held up the empty sake cup. "I humbly receive," he said.
"Ah, but if you really don't want to drink," Yodo taunted, "maybe you'd prefer some sweets." He laughed derisively, and pushed a tray of sweet bean jam cakes toward Hanpeita.
"Thank you very much, My Lord." Hanpeita bowed again, and accepted one of the cakes.
Yodo reached for his paper fan, began waving it slowly in front of his face. "Getting back to your suggestion," he said, "I myself have considered it. But with the times being what they are, we mustn't rush into things. And, as well know, since I'm retired, I'm in no position to make any decisions." This of course, was a lie by which Yodo was biding time, until he could see opportunity to destroy his impudent vassal.
"What are your ideas concerning the problem of expelling the barbarians. Hanpeita asked, erroneously taking for granted that Yodo shared his own xenophobic convictions.
"I certainly don't condone the way the Choshu men have been acting! They're too rash. In fact, in order to ease the Emperor's mind, the best thin we can do is keep our ports open." Realizing that this last remark was a total surprise to Hanpeita, Yodo quickly reiterated, "Of course, if the Imperial Court should issue a decree for Tosa to support Choshu, I would certainly obey," he lied again. Yodo was careful not to betray his true feelings to Hanpeita, lest word reach the radicals in Kyoto who were still in control over the court. When the time for negotiation with the court again presented itself, as Yodo reasoned it inevitably would, he wanted to be considered an Imperial Loyalist, rather than a Tokugawa sympathizer.
"I have never once doubted your true intentions, My Lord." Hanpeita again bowed his head to the floor. "But since I'm ill," Yodo continued to lie, "I would not be of much use." "Then what if our young lord in Kyoto were to handle the matter?" Hanpeita dared suggest.
"Toyonori is too green," Yodo said of his seventeen-year-old heir, the nominal Tosa daimyo. "He could never be as effective as I could." Yodo drained his cup. "The best thing would be for me to take control," he growled, and Hanpeita, despite himself, felt a chill at the pit of his stomach. "But the way things are in Japan at present, I'm going to have to wait. Choshu has me extremely worried," he said, slamming his cup down on the tray in front of him. "It will eventually be up to the leading daimyo, including myself, to straighten things out, but for now all we can do is wait until the time is right." Yodo refilled his cup. "If, however, the Shogun were to disobey an Imperial decree, I, the Drunken Lord of the Sea of Whales, would cut off his head myself."
This last piece of rhetoric, which of course was also a lie, worked; the Drunken Lord of the Sea of Whales completely took his dangerous vassal off guard. Hanpeita, who desperately wanted to believe in his lord, was now convinced that Yodo was indeed the Loyalist he had always claimed to be, despite his reputation as a Tokugawa sympathizer. After all, hadn't Yodo suffered during Ii Naosuke's purge? Hadn't all those who signed in blood the manifesto of the Tosa Loyalist Party sworn to "go through fire and water to...carry out the will of the former daimyo"? And by Yodo's last remark, Hanpeita was reassured that the sympathy of the former daimyo lay with the Imperial Court. As powerful a man as Yamanouchi Yodo, he tragically assumed, could have no reason to lie to his own vassal.
Nakaoka Shintaro visited his mentor's fencing dojo one morning at the end 0f August, around the time that Ryoma had asked Kaishu to urge Yodo to be lenient with the Tosa Loyalists. The air inside the training hall was hot and humid, and the smell of sweat permeated the wood-paneled room where Hanpeita had just finished leading a rigorous practice. He and his men had reason to practice particularly hard this morning; they had just heard the news that Choshu and the seven radical court nobles had been banished from Kyoto.
Nakaoka found Hanpeita alone in the hall. Hanpeita, soaked with sweat, wore his navy blue training robe and hakama, but instead of a wooden practice sword, he held a real blade.
Nakaoka bowed at the entranceway. "I've just heard the news." He had a scowl on his face, anger radiating from his eyes.
"Sit down, Shinta." Hanpeita eyed his prize disciple almost suspiciously, his voice as solemn as his face was grim. "We must talk," he said, and, with one smooth motion, resheathed his sword.
The two men sat on the wooden floor, which was still wet from perspiration, and Nakaoka began speaking heatedly. "We should have taken Kusaka's advice while we were still in Kyoto and fled to Choshu. Coming back here was suicidal. Let's gather all our men and get out of Tosa before it's too late."
Hanpeita raised his right hand in a sign for the excited man to calm down. "You're not losing your nerve, I hope," he said calmly.
""Don't you understand?" the younger man shouted. "We owe it to the Emperor and the nation to get out of Tosa. We surely won't be of any use rotting in jail."
"You must have faith, Shinta. As long as Lord Yodo is on our side, we have nothing to worry about. And he is on our side."
"But Sensei," Nakaoka appealed, only to be silenced by a gesture from his mentor.
"Lord Yodo has given me his word," Hanpeita said. He refused to believe that the retired daimyo would betray him; his inflated self-confidence, bordering on megalomania, would not permit it. Besides, as the leader of the Tosa Loyalist Party, Hanpeita would never abandon Tosa Han.
"I am going to Choshu to investigate the situation there," Nakaoka said. "I'll report back to you as soon as possible."
Hanpeita arose, as was his daily custom, at dawn on September 21. He washed his face in a basin of cool well water, put on his riding clothes- black hakama of durable hempen cloth, a black jacket and a short-rimmed military helmet-then told his wife Tomi that he was going for a ride. When he returned about an hour later, he found one of his men waiting in the front garden.
"Sensei," the man exclaimed, "Lord Yodo's men are after us!" He produced a scroll from the breast of his kimono, and handed it to Hanpeita.
"This is a subpoena for me to report to the administrative office immediately for questioning. It's all over. Our only chance is to get out of Tosa right away, this very morning, before they arrest every last one of us."
"Calm down," Hanpeita ordered, his face void of emotion. He looked hard at the front doorway to his house, pounding the dust from his hakama. "Keep your voice down," he said. "Does my wife know about this?"
"Yes. She told me that you'd be home soon. So I thought I should wait..."
"Enough!" Hanpeita said, showing for the first time the slightest bit of emotion. "Has anyone been arrested yet?" "Not to my knowledge."
Hanpeita's eyes took on a sinister glare. "Go immediately to the homes of our chief members." He paused, then in a whisper, "You know who I mean. Make sure that everyone is prepared to give the same testimony in case they are arrested" Hanpeita was referring to the assassination of Yoshida Toyo two years before. "Remember, no matter what happens, we must stick to the same story that we have already agreed upon. They will never be able to prove anything as long as our stories correspond."
The man left immediately, and Hanpeita went into his house. "Tomi, I'll have my breakfast," he said calmly. "What are you going to do?" his wife asked worriedly. "I'm going to have my breakfast. I'm hungry." Although it was now obvious that the coup in Kyoto had drastically influenced affairs in Tosa, Takechi Hanpeita still refused to believe that Yodo would betray him. He was convinced that Yodo's support for a compromise between camp and court was nothing but formality. True, he and his men had assassinated Toyo, but the murder was unavoidable if they were to unite Tosa behind the Emperor. And certainly. Hanpeita believed, Lord Yodo was a Loyalist at heart. "Tomi," be said sharply, giving her a stem look, "even if I should be arrested, there is nothing to worry about I will be released soon after." Such was the erroneous self-confidence of a megalomaniac.
While Hanpeita was still eating breakfast, several samurai appeared at his front door, one of them carrying a warrant for his arrest "I'm having my breakfast," be said calmly. "Wait until I've finished."
Hanpeita bid his wife good-bye as she stood misty-eyed at the front door. "No matter what happens, you are not to try to sec me until I return," he told bar. Tomi nodded stoically, as Hanpeita held her hand firmly, lovingly. Despite all of the time be had spent with his comrades in the pleasure quarters of Kyoto, he had never once touched another woman. Hanpeita released his wile's hand and walked ahead of his escorts with the perfect composure of a warrior, through the small garden to the road in front of the house. After be climbed into the sedan which was waiting to bring him to jail, he looked across the garden at Tomi, smiling from his heart Although his great ego still did not permit him to believe that he, Master Zuizan, would remain long in jail, he felt * pang deep inside, such as he had never felt before, as be had a premonition that be would never see his wife again.
In September, Kaishu secured two warships from the Tokugawa fleet, shortly after which he and Ryoma returned to the naval academy in Kobe. One balmy morning in mid-September the navy commissioner led his crew of over one hundred men aboard the Kanko Mont, a tripled-masted square-rigged sailing corvette equipped with steam-powered side paddle-wheels, which the Bakufu had received as a gift from the King of the Netherlands. just 216 feet long and 42 feet wide, the Kanko Marti was smaller than the Jundo Marti, aboard which Ryoma had already gotten a considerable amoi of training over the past ten months. The red rising sun flew atop the mainmast, over 100 feet above the planked deck of the black wooden ship, as Ryoma admired the six black cannon mounted along both gunwales.
As Ryoma was the leader of the academy, he was the captain of the ship. His crew sailed for days at a time in the waters around Osaka Bay, practicing navigational techniques they had been taught at the academy. Then, when the news of the arrest of the Tosa Loyalists reached Kobe headquarters at the end of September, Ryoma and his men became more determined than ever to master the art of navigation.
While his comrades wore gloomy faces for weeks after hearing of the arrests, Ryoma overcame his anxiety with hard work. His ability to dedicate himself so completely to his training seemed odd, even to his closest friends. One day on the deck of the Kanko Mam, after Ryoma and several others bad finished hoisting the sails, Yonosuke said, "Sakamoto-san, aren't you concerned about the others back in Tosa?"
Ryoma gave Yonosuke a hard look, leaned against the side railing, and spit into the dark blue sea. "Hanpeita wouldn't listen," he said with a scowl. He looked up at the sails which fluttered in a gusty wind, his eyes squinted, right hand tucked into his kimono, a worried look on his tanned face. "And the same goes for the Choshu men," be said. "They refused to wait for the right time." As Ryoma finished speaking, he slammed his list on the hard wooden railing, as if frustration had gotten the better of him on for one brief moment.
"What exactly do you mean?" Yonosuke asked.
"Let me put it this way. Say you have • boil on your neck. No matter how much you jab it with a needle, it won't burst until it's good and swollen."
"What you're saying, then, is that the Bakufu isn't swollen enough to burst yet"
Gnat's right Too much jabbing now will only aggravate things. That's what Hanpeita did in Tosa. That's what Choshu did in Kyoto. And took what s happened to them." Ryoma again spit into the sea. "It's such a waste. Hanpeita fating in a stinking jail cell. Of all the damn..," Ryoma stopped himself short, and regained control of his emotions. "But give those potato-heads in Edit a mtle more time." he laughed sardonically, "and the Bakufu will be so full of puss, even the slightest jab will cause it to burst wide open."
In late autumn Ryoma again sailed to Edo with Kaishu aboard the Jundo Mam. Then, one afternoon in the first week of December, a Tosa samurai appeared in front of the Chiba bouse.
"I've come on official business from Tosa headquarters," the man informed Jutaro. "I'm looking for Sakamoto Ryoma." Jutaro could tell by the man's dress and swords that he was of the upper echelons of Tosa society. His long nose and narrow face seemed to assert his aristocratic disposition. Indeed, unlike Ryoma. Hanpcita and the other Tosa samurai whom Jutaro knew, the man's demeanor betrayed a privileged upbringing. "What business?" Jutaro said coldly.
"I've come for Sakamoto Ryoma," the man said. "We have reason to believe he's staying here."
"What if I am?" Ryoma called out from the front entranceway of the house. "Are you Sakamoto Ryoma?" the man asked.
"You know I am. Who are you?" Ryoma growled, stepping outside into the garden, a hellish expression on his face. "Tosa samurai Inui Taisuke," the man identified himself. Ryoma had heard the name. Inui Taisuke was the eldest son of an elite family of upper-samurai, and former disciple of Yoshida Toyo. He, along with several other Yoshida disciples, had been chosen earlier in the year by Lord Yodo to suppress the Loyalists and find evidence to convict Hanpcita for plotting Yoshida'* murder. Inui gave Ryoma a hard look. "You and all other Tosa men are ordered to return to Kochi immediately," he said. "That includes the seven other outlaws from Tosa who are hiding in Kobe. Here's your notice." Inui held out a sealed scroll.
Without taking the document, Ryoma said through a diabolic grin, "If 1 were you, Inui, I'd watch what I was saying, unless you mean to imply that Katsu Kaishu is harboring outlaws." Ryoma knew that Kaishu's friendship with Lord Yodo was highly valued among the Tosa elite. Then, changing his grin to a look of contempt, "What's become of Takechi Hanpeita?" he demanded "Just what he deserves," Inui said bitterly. "What does he deserve?" Ryoma said sarcastically. "Punishment for the murder of Yoshida Toyo,"
"There's not a man alive who cares more about Tosa Han, or your lousy daimyo, than Takechi Hanpeita." "Hold your tongue!" Inui yetted, reaching for his sword. Ryoma checked Inui with his eyes, controlled him with his will. "What about the others?" Ryoma asked. "What others?"
"The Tosa Loyalists that your deceitful daimyo has locked up in his slinking jail." "Impudence!" Inui exploded, reaching for his sword with both hands "Stop!" Ryoma roared- "Or you die! And even if I don't cut you here on the spot, you must know it's a crime to draw your sword on another Tosa samurai outside of the hem, unless, of course, you have proper reason. And you don't have proper reason."
"How dare you threaten me." Inui shouted indignantly. "I'm an upper-samurai, and you're a lower-samurai."
"Inui," Ryoma said, slowly shaking his head, "when are you and those other idiots in Tosa going to get it through your stubborn stone-heads that you can no longer afford to be concerned with who is an upper-samurai and who is a lower-samurai. The foreigners are about to eat Japan alive, and you idiots are still running around with your thumbs up your asses, worrying about petty things."
Inui was furious. "As a representative of the Lord of Tosa, I am in charge of punishing all criminals from Tosa."
"So what!" Ryoma sneered. "I'm Sakamoto Ryoma, dedicated to freedom, the rights of man and the unification of our great nation." Then realizing he was letting his anger get the best of him, Ryoma intentionally broke out into mocking laughter. "Ah, ha, ha! You can't really think that any of us are going to return to Tosa just because you've given me that notice. Because if so, you're out of your mind."
Inui stared hard at Ryoma, too vexed to speak.
Ryoma continued mockingly. "If I told you to bare your scrawny neck so that I could cut off your useless head, would you do it? I doubt it, no matter how stupid you are."
"Say what you will. Sakamoto," Inui sneered "You've been duly notified," be added, handed Ryoma the summons and left through the front gate of the Chiba house.
Shortly after, Ryoma reported to Kaishu's house. "It looks like it's finally happened," he said. "I've just been presented with this." Ryoma showed the summons to Kaishu.
Kaishu unrolled the document, and, with a vexed look, said, "1’11 be damned if I'm going to let my best men return to Kochi without knowing what's going to happen to them. I'm not about to let you go."
"Don't worry," Ryoma said. "I for one am not about to run back to Tosa to join others in jail. I'm in no hurry to die, and beside, there are too many things 1 have to do first"
"If worse comes to worst," Kaishu said, "You'll have to become a ronin again. But, if possible, it would be best for all concerned if you could avoid that."
"How?" Ryoma asked.
“I'll write a letter immediately to the authorities at Tosa headquarters here in Edo, asking them to give all of you a little more time before returning to Kochi."
"A little more time?"
"Don't worry. It's just for the sake of formality. I'll tell them that all of you are working for me, and that I couldn't consider letting you go now."
From Ezo to Nagasaki
Kaishu's request was refused, leaving Ryoma and the other Tosa men with no choice but to become ronin again, just ten months after most of them had been pardoned. But the status of ronin--in this case, political refugee-suited the Dragon. The freedom that was an integral part of nonconformity far outweighed the danger of arrest.
Ryoma had been able to avoid the whirlwind of political change which spelled disaster for his comrades in Tosa and Choshti by establishing a private naval academy under the navy commissioner. He had created for himself and his men a new type of political space, independent of both the clam and the Bakufu, a foundation for a new Japan, based on the economic and military might of a modern navy.
Ryoma had learned much from the "Croup of Four," as Katsu Kaishu labeled the clique which included himself. Lord Shungaku. Yokoi Shonan and Okubo Ichio. These men, among the most enlightened of their time, were bound together by a common foresight which was not displayed elsewhere, neither in Bakufu nor Imperial circles, nor in any of the han. The knowledge Ryoma had gained from them not only changed the course of his life, but would continue to Influence his actions until his death. The Group of Four criticized the archaic feudal system upon which Japanese society was founded. Instead, they advocated that Japan be united into one republic, after the fashion of the Western democracies, founded on social equality and free international trade to enrich the nation. They professed that a new government should be represented by a House of Lords, consisting of men from the Bakufu and the great feudal domains, and that it be dedicated to the welfare of all Japanese people. They called for Japan to import more warships and to man them with men of ability from throughout the country, regardless of social lineage or han. They stressed that, since Japan was an island nation, a navy would be essential for national security and free trade. And it was under the wing of the bold navy commissioner that Ryoma and his outlaw compatriots were more than ever determined to establish such a navy.
The first year of the Era of Genji, 1864, had come, and it would prove to be the most turbulent year of this most turbulent period in Japanese history. One cold afternoon in mid-January, as Ryoma sat alone in his room at Kobe headquarters studying a copy of Kaishu's navigational diary, a Tosa Loyalists by the name of Kitazoe Kitsuma called at the front door. At Ryoma's bidding, Kitsuma had just returned from a three-month expedition to Japan's remote northern territory. As a result of the coup in Kyoto in the previous August, the hundreds of Loyalists from various han who had gathered in the Imperial capital found themselves stranded, without money or, in many cases, shelter. The Bakufu police no longer tried to arrest ronin in the Imperial capital; rather, now that Edo had regained the support of the court it was the Bakufu’s intention to kill every Loyalist in the city, a was fof (hj' n that Ryoma had recently devised a plan whereby these Loyalists could be sent to the northern territory of Ezo, to settle that wilderness and protect it from the Russians, whom it was feared might invade at any time. By so doing, Ryoma had reasoned, these men could avoid being killed by Tokugawa death squads, and when the time was right, return to Kyoto and Edo to fight on the side of the Imperial Loyalists to finally topple the Bakufu. Through the good offices of the Group of Four, Ryoma expected to convince the Bakufu to finance his plan. After all, Edo was at odds with itself trying to control the hundreds of renegades still hiding in Kyoto. Ryoma would offer the Bakufu a way to clear every last one of them out of the city, and put them to use developing and protecting the mineral-rich northern territory. The cost to Edo would be minimal: food, lodging and weapons for two or three hundred men.
"What was Ezo like?" was the first thing Ryoma asked Kitsuma.
"There's a lot more to Ezo than just bear shit and snow," Kitsuma bellowed. "There's more open land up there than you've ever dreamed of. But I'll say it again, Ryoma. I won't do it. I won't lead a group of men to settle Ezo. It would defeat our purpose."
"What purpose? To stay around Kyoto waiting to get killed?"
"I have to stay in Kyoto," Kitsuma insisted. "I owe it to Zuizan-sensei and the other Tosa Loyalists."
"You owe it to them to do the very best you can for Japan. And settling Ezo is the best thing you could do right now."
"I have to remain in Kyoto," Kitsuma stubbornly insisted.
"Why?" Ryoma asked, although be knew the answer. Kitsuma, like every other ronin still in Kyoto, was waiting for Choshu to strike back. Since the previous August, the Loyalists had been planning another attempt to occupy the Imperial Court, after which they would burn the city, attack the headquarters of the Protector of Kyoto (Lord of Aizu). then declare a new Imperial government independent of the Bakufu.
But Ryoma was sure that Choshu would fail. "Kitsuma," he pleaded, "listen to reason. Hanpeita and the others wouldn't, and look what's happened to them. Satsuma and Aizu have joined forces. They cannot be defeated just now. The timing isn't right. The instant Choshu tries anything, Satsuma and Aizu, with Imperial decree in hand, will squash them like insects." Ryoma paused, a sardonic expression on his face. "And since Choshu has nearly been branded an 'Imperial Enemy,' he continued, "the Bakufu will get all the support it needs from han throughout Japan to destroy Choshu."
"You don't believe that Choshu is actually an enemy of the Emperor," Kitsuma objected violently. To Kitsuma, and literally every Loyalist in Japan, Choshu represented all that was pure and holy, the epitome of Imperial loyalism. "You can't believe even for a second that Choshu is anything but completely dedicated to the Emperor."
"You don't understand," Ryoma groaned "It doesn't matter what I believe. What matters right now is that Choshu has been banished from Kyoto, ft doesn't matter that Aizu and Satsuma were behind the plot Throughout Japanese history, the Imperial Court has always taken the strongest side. When Kusaka and Hanpeita were running things in Kyoto, Choshu had never known such prestige at court. But after the coup last August," Ryoma snapped his fingers, "their prestige disappeared just like that. He paused to take a deep breath. "You can't tell me that I'm wrong. Unable to disagree, Kitsuma remained silent.
"And so," Ryoma pounded his fist into his palm, "go and settle Ezo. Right now that's the most important thing you can do. I'll sail to Edo right away and see what 1 can do about raising money to finance the expedition." "What are talking about, Ryoma?"
"I'm going to convince the Bakufu to put up the money you'll need."
"I wouldn't touch their filthy money," Kitsuma shouted.
"Don't be stupid," Ryoma said. "The Bakufu's money comes from the sweat of peasants throughout Japan. It's no more the Bakufu's money than it is ours. If we can put it to use for the welfare of Japan, then that's what we should do." Ryoma paused. "No," he corrected himself, "that's what we must do."
Not only was Ryoma anxious to exploit the mineral-rich northern territory, but the prospects of developing a trading network, linking Kyushu in the far south to Ezo in the far north, fascinated him. Needless to say, he had no qualms about using Tokugawa money to realize this.
But Kitsuma was as adamant as Ryoma. "No, I just can't," he persisted. "I must take part in the revolution that will happen in Kyoto. If I were to be away in Ezo when the coup took place, I'd never be able to forgive myself."
"Promise me one thing, Kitsuma. If I can raise enough money, promise me you'll reconsider."
Kitsuma stared hard at Ryoma. "How much money are you talking about?"
"About three or four thousand ryo."
“Three or four thousand ryo”, Kitsuma gasped. The sum was tremendous. But not only was Kitsuma tired of arguing, he was also aware of Ryoma s reputation as a big talker. "Alright, if you can actually raise mat much money, I'd do it," Kitsuma agreed, certain, however, that Ryoma would never be able to raise such an amount.
• " *
In the second week of February Kaishu returned from Osaka to Kobe head quarters with some very disturbing news: France, England, America and Holland were planning a joint-bombardment of Shimonoseki. While the
British bombardment of Kagoshima had taught Satsuma the futility of fighting with the West, their enemies in Choshu continued even now to insist on expelling the foreigners. This is not to say that Choshu still believed exclusion possible; rathi hoshu's intention was to humiliate the Bakufu, while continuing to show to complete dedication to the xenophobic Emperor, although he had banished that hem from Kyoto. After the first bombardment of Shimonoseki. Choshu had rebuilt its batteries, and constructed new ones, where it mounted all the guns it could accumulate. Since this made it impossible for foreign vessels to cross Shimonoseki Strait-which was situated along the main shipping route between Nagasaki and Yokohama-the four Western powers, whose fleets were now in port at Nagasaki, decided to take affirmative action by punishing Choshu. The logic of the Westerners is summed up in the words of the Briton Ernest Satow: "We had, it might be said, conquered the goodwill of Satsuma, and a similar process applied to the other principal head of the anti-foreign party might well be expected to produce an equally wholesome effect."
"It makes me sick," Ryoma said, as he stood with Kaishu on the beach in front of headquarters, staring out at the ocean, his right hand tucked into his kimono. He couldn't help but sympathize with Choshu. Although intellectually he supported Kaishu's call to fully open Japan, emotionally he respected Choshu for the selfless courage ft had shown trying to expel the foreigners. "It may be true that Choshu acted drastically," he said. "But the Bakufu's treachery is too much to bear. Having repaired the foreign ships which shelled Shimonoseki, it's now obvious that there are many officials in Edo who are sitting by anxiously waiting for the foreigners to get back down there and blow Choshu right off the map."
"You're absolutely right," Kaishu agreed. "And frankly, I'm very worried about the possibility of the foreigners using this whole thing as an excuse to occupy Japanese soil. So, I'm going down to Nagasaki in order to convince them to abandon their plan for a second bombardment, or at least postpone it."
"If there were only more men in the Bakufu like you," Ryoma groaned.
"Yes," Kaishu said. "At any rate, I want you to come with me to Nagasaki." Although mere would be nothing in particular for Ryoma to do on the trip. Kaishu wanted to expose him to this unique open port city. "And one i: ihing," Kaishu lowered his voice. "Just between you and me, the Bakufu cannot last much longer," he said, stunning Ryoma. "And so, while we're in Nagasaki, I intend to sail across the strait to Tsushima, to investigate the state of affairs in Korea." The Tsushima island group, located in the strait between the Korean Peninsula and Kyushu, was the closest Japanese point to Korea. Out" plans for a triple alliance between China, Korea and Japan!" Ryoma exclaimed, then stooped down to grab a handful of sand.
"Exactly! We're getting closer to receiving permission from Edo to establish an official naval academy here. I plan to operate it right along with our private academy. But now, in addition to exclusive use of two Bakufu warships, we'll have shipbuilding facilities moved here from Nagasaki, an iron foundry, and access to the nearby mining works. After that, I would like to begin negotiations with the Chinese to establish strategic naval points in the Ports of Shanghai and Tientsin, then with the Koreans to link up with one of their key ports, maybe Pusan."
Ryoma listened silently, savoring the cold salt air, an anxious expression on his tanned face. His long-awaited dream for a navy was in the midst of finally being realized, and his mind raced at the possibilities which lay ahead. "Why don't we establish a base in Nagasaki as well?" he asked.
"You read my mind.'" exclaimed the navy commissioner. "With the international trade that's going on there, Nagasaki is certainly a city of the future."
On the morning of February 14, Ryoma and several of his men boarded the Kanko Maru with Katsu Kaishu, and sailed out of the Port of Kobe. Heading west through the Inland Sea between the islands of Shikoku and Honshu, they passed the domain of Choshu to the north, then continued on through the Strait of Bungo to Kyushu, landing on that island at the province of Bungo on the following day. From here Kaishu returned the Kanko Maru to Osaka with the rest of the crew, as only he and Ryoma continued on foot southwest toward Nagasaki, on the opposite side of Kyushu.
The early spring brought clear blue skies and mild temperatures, and the plum trees lining the narrow highway were blooming in creamy whites and soft pinks. The navy commissioner and the outlaw traveled by day, staying at inns along the way as guests of the Outside Lord of Kumamoto, one of the wealthiest in all of Japan. They spent a week crossing Kyushu, and in the late afternoon of February 22 they boarded another Tokugawa steamer from the Kumamoto coast on the western side of the island, reaching the Port of Nagasaki on the following morning.
Ryoma stood with Kaishu on the deck of the ship, not a cloud in the crystal blue sky, the calm water of Nagasaki Bay a rich sapphire. European-style houses, the likes of which Ryoma had never seen before, stood along the east coast of the bay and atop the green hills rising above. "This is the westernmost point of Japan, and the closest to China," Kaishu said.
Ryoma shook his head in awe, then squinted to get a better look at the strange foreign houses.
"Those are the 'Dutch Slopes’" Kaishu said. "But it never ceases to amaze me that we Japanese consider all Westerners alike. The so-called 'Dutch Slopes' are a perfect example. Although there have been people of different nationalities living up there for several years, the people of Nagasaki, who admittedly have for the past two centuries known no other Westerners than the Dutch, insist on referring to all Caucasians as Dutch. With that kind of logic, the Westerners could just as easily consider all Asians the same. Imagine, for instance, not being able to distinguish between Japanese and Chinese!"
"Preposterous," Ryoma said, squinting at the awesome spectacle of the foreign fleets anchored in the harbor. "And look at all those warships," he groaned. The British, American, French and Dutch fleets were waiting for orders from their respective consulates to attack Choshu, just a short run from Nagasaki. "Yes," Kaishu said glumly, "their combined fleets have enough firepower to annihilate the coast of Choshu, and continue straight up along Honshu to Osaka, Edo and anywhere else they might feel inclined to destroy. But I wouldn't get myself too riled up about it, Ryoma. That's why I'm here. It seems I'm the only one in the Bakufu who knows how to reason with the foreigners. Anyway, they don't want to fight with us, just trade with us."
Upon landing, the two men walked uphill over the cobblestone streets toward the office of the Magistrate of Nagasaki, the Tokugawa official in charge of overseeing the city. Kaishu was anxious to begin negotiations with the foreign naval commanders as soon as possible, but he first wanted to see the magistrate to hear the latest word concerning the foreign fleets. Soon they reached the magistrate's headquarters, on the western edge of the city, atop a hill overlooking the harbor. It was an imposing mansion built in the traditional Japanese style-a dark wooden building with a black tile roof, surrounded by a high white earthen wall.
As the Tokugawa Navy Commissioner and the outlaw passed through the outer gate of the magistrate's headquarters, an enormous brass-studded wooden structure, they were met by the magistrate himself. He had already received word of Kaishu's arrival, but was curious, if not a bit disconcerted, about the unsavory looking character with him. "Katsu-sensei, I've been expecting you," he said, casting a suspicious glance at Ryoma. As magistrate of the Tokugawa-run port, it was his duty to oversee the city's management, administration, police force, courts, trade, foreign relations and military affairs.
"Don't mind him," Kaishu said amusedly, patting Ryoma on the back. "He won't bite."
"Who is he?" the magistrate asked.
"Sakamoto Ryoma, a ronin from Tosa, and my top man in Kobe. This is his first time in Nagasaki, so I'd appreciate any courtesy you might show him during his stay."
The magistrate forced a smile, obviously dumbfounded by the situation. "Ah, of course," he said, unable to conceal his true feelings. "Please come into my office, Katsu-sensei." Then after a brief pause the befuddled man cleared his throat and, casting a worried glance at Ryoma, added, "And you too."
In a spacious oak-paneled room, with three armed guards posted just outside the door, the magistrate gave Kaishu a disconcerted look. "According to a report my office has received, we estimate that there are two thousand infantrymen aboard the British fleet, and eight hundred troops on the Dutch ships," he said.
"Have you sent word of this to Edo yet?" Kaishu asked.
"No. I've just now received the report, and haven't had time to verify it yet."
"We must inform Edo immediately." Kaishu’s eyes flashed
"By the way," Ryoma said nonchalantly, his arms folded in front, "how much gold do you have stored here?" The magistrate, surprised by the sudden question, answered in no uncertain terms, "One hundred thousand ryo. Why do you ask?"
"Just curious." Ryoma answered.
Later that day in their lodgings at a Buddhist temple near the center of the city. Kaishu asked Ryoma about "that unusual question you proposed to the magistrate."
"I was just wondering." Ryoma said. "You never know when we might be needing the money in case a war should break out." Ryoma was already planning for a day in the future when he and his men might raid the magistrate's office, take the gold and use it to procure guns and warships to overthrow the Bakufu.
Kaishu spent the next month and a naif negotiating daily with the consuls of the United States. Britain and the Netherlands, and the commanding officers of their respective fleets. "We don't want war," the foreigners assured him, "just safety for our ships passing through Shimonoseki Strait Unless your government can stop Choshu from attacking, we will be compelled to use military force to stop them." In short, the foreigners blamed the Bakufu for its inability to control Choshu.
It was a warm evening at the beginning of April. Katsu, Ryoma and two young women dressed in brightly colored kimono sat on chairs around a small round marble-topped table. They were drinking French red wine in the "Chinese Room" at the House of the Flower Moon, a brothel in Nagasaki's Maruyama pleasure quarter. The red earthen walls and ceiling of the room were paneled with dark Japanese cypress, and the floor was of brown tile; a French lamp hung at the center of the room, above the table; Chinese lanterns stood at all four corners; sliding glass doors with dark wooden frames opened up to a spacious garden.
Ryoma had never seen anything like it. "I feel like I'm in a foreign country," he repeated the phrase he had so often used over the past several weeks, then took a sip of wine.
"Why don't you play something on the moon guitar," Kaishu suggested to one of the girls. The girl stood up, adjusted her kimono, went to the adjacent room, sat down on the tatami floor and began playing the four-stringed instrument. Kaishu took a sip of wine, and sighed deeply. 'Tomorrow we'll be on the road again, so we'd better relax tonight." "Will you be returning to Edo?" Ryoma asked,
"No. I'm going to Osaka to report to the Shogun," Kaishu said in a low voice. "On your way back to Kobe, I want you to stop at Kumamoto to see Yokoi. I'm sure he must be quite down and out since that unfortunate incident last year, and I know how good you can be at cheering someone up. Also, I have some money I want you to give him. You know, his stipend has been confiscated."
Yokoi Shonan had recently been recalled from his post in Fukui as chief political advisor to Lord Shungaku, and confined to his house in the countryside of his native Kumamoto for "behavior unbecoming of a samurai." While in Edo at the end of the previous year he was attacked by anti-foreign extremists, but instead of defending himself in the manner expected of a samurai, the fifty-five-year-old scholar fled, leaving his swords behind
*I’ll do my best," Ryoma said, shaking his head slowly. "How can a daimyo punish his best man over a petty incident?" Ryoma muttered, then drained an entire glass of wine. "It will be interesting to hear what Yokoi has to say about the problem of Choshu."
Ryoma had read his mentor's true intentions. Just as Kaishu had arranged for Ryoma to meet on various occasions with Lord Shungaku of Fukui and Foreign Affairs Commissioner Okubo Ichio, he wanted also to expose him as much as possible to this fourth member of the Group of Four. Yokoi Shonan, Kaishu judged, had as good a grasp on Japan's relationship to the rest of the world as he himself did, and "an intellect unequaled by anyone in Japan." By now, nearly everyone who supported Opening the Country blindly supported the Bakufu; and those who called for Expelling the Barbarians were fanatic in their Imperial Loyalism. Not so, however, for Kaishu's unique clique, which espoused Imperial Reverence and Opening the Country, They were realists who revered the Emperor because, among other reasons, they could see that the Bakufu had reached its final days, but at the same time they knew that Japan must be open to foreign trade and culture if it were to survive in the modern world. It was through contact with the Group of Four that Ryoma-and, by association, his men at Kaishu's private naval academy-were able to perceive things from a different perspective than most of the other Loyalists from Tosa, Choshu and Satsuma.
"'The two most frightening men I have ever met," Kaishu once said, "were Yokoi Shonan and Saiga Takamori (the great Satsuma commander also known as Saigo Kichinosuke). "Yokoi didn’t know that much about the West; in fact, I even taught him a thing or two on the subject. But when it came to pure intellect, he was way above my level. Although Yokoi was not very good at actually getting things accomplished on his own, once a man of action got together with him the two of them could do some incredibly great things."
Kaishu was sending his "man of action" to meet again with Yokoi Shonan. He believed in Ryoma's character, and was confident that his would be an important role in the modernization of Japan.
"I'll make arrangements for you to sail aboard a Bakufu steamer leaving for Kumamoto in the morning," Kaishu said.
“I’ll drink to that," Ryoma exclaimed, draining his wine glass.
Kaishu refilled Ryoma's glass. "Very congenial of them, don't you think?" I he said derisively.
"Of who?"
"The British. Their consulate had this wine delivered to me after our final meeting today." From his kimono he produced a cloth pouch. "They also gave me some of these," he said, taking out two cigars and a small box of matches, the likes of which Ryoma had never seen before. "Here." he offered one to Ryoma, lighting it.
Ryoma inhaled, and began coughing. "I only wish the British would have given us more time, instead of these foul things," he said.
Kaishu laughed. "These are what gentlemen smoke in America and Europe, but I'm not very fond of them cither." Kaishu slowly shook his head and a dark expression covered his Face. "But I agree with you about needing more time," he said. "I'm very worried."
"How long did the foreigners give us?" Ryoma asked.
"They wouldn 't say for sure, but I estimate only a few months. If we can't do something about Choshu by then, I'm afraid they will."
"We must work fast," Ryoma said. "I can feel it in my blood. The boil is almost ready to burst wide open."
"What?" Kaishu gave Ryoma a strange look.
"The Bakufu," Ryoma exclaimed, his face flush from wine, his dark brown eyes flashing. "Things are coming to a head, and all it's going to take is a little jab and that'll be that." Ryoma laughed loudly. "But I understand your position, Sensei. So, leave it me. I'm just a ronin. I'm expendable. If I can die to clean up Japan, I'll be satisfied."
"I'd prefer to have you around after you've finished jabbing and cleaning up," Kaishu said grinning. "So, don't be in such a hurry to die."
"Don't worry," Ryoma said. "But it's unfortunate that we couldn't get to Tsushima. I was looking forward to that." While in Nagasaki, Kaishu had received an Imperial decree forbidding him from crossing over to Tsushima islands to investigate the neighboring Korean Peninsula.
"Enough of such talk for tonight," Kaishu said, slapping his palm on the marble tabletop. "Instead, let's listen to the beautiful music, enjoy this fine French wine, and savor the lovely ladies. A man must occasionally relax to perform to full capacity."
* * *
The former chief political advisor to one of the most powerful men in Japan was delighted when the outlaw appeared at his home in the Kumamoto countryside on the balmy evening of April 6. Since being recalled from Fukui, Yokoi Shonan had been confined to his house in his tiny native village of Nuyamazu, surrounded by green rice paddies and open fields speckled with mustard flowers, spreading out for miles in each direction. In the distance to the northeast were the five volcanic peaks of Mount Aso, and across the strait to the west, on the Shimabara Peninsula, the majestic Onsendake mountain. On one side of Yokoi's house was a bamboo grove, directly in front the Nuyamazu River, which flowed by the village into a nearby lake.
"I've brought a small gift from Katsu Kaishu," Ryoma said, after greeting Yokoi in front of the small, dilapidated house. Yokoi gratefully accepted a small pouch of gold coins. "Ryoma," he said, a faint smile on his dark, heavily lined face, his hair streaked with gray, "the last time we met in Fukui Castletown, I never thought our next meeting would be here in the Kumamoto countryside." He paused, a look of vexation replaced his smile. "It's an awful fate to be confined to one's home when there is so much at stake for the nation." "Sensei," Ryoma smiled consolingly, "what you've already given to the nation is enough for a thousand years. Please don't worry yourself, not when there arc men like Katsu Kaishu and myself around to take care of things."
Yokoi roared with laughter, then invited Ryoma into the house. "I used to think that there wasn't another man in the world with as much self-confidence as Katsu," he said. "But you've proved me wrong."
Yokoi's home betrayed the great man's poverty. His study, one of three small rooms, was only large enough to lay out six badly worn tatami mats; the walls were in need of repair, and instead of wooden shutters an old straw mat hung from the eaves to keep out the wind and rain.
Presently, a young samurai appeared. "This is my nephew," Yokoi said. "When I received word from Kaishu telling me you'd be coming, I took the liberty of calling him here because I thought that he might join your naval academy."
The three men spent the rest of the afternoon and much of the evening imbibing the traditional drink of the Kumamoto countryside-a potent white liquor made of distilled potatoes-and discussing national affairs. "We must have democracy in Japan," Ryoma declared after finishing his first cupful of liquor. "An American form of government," he said with conviction, "whereby everyone is equal, regardless of birth or wealth, and whereby all the people have the right to elect a president. Many people nowadays insist that after the Bakufu has been overthrown the Emperor must be in a position to govern. But I'm afraid that would be a big mistake."
"Sakamoto-san," Yokoi's nephew said indignantly, "certainly you're not saying that you don't revere his Imperial Highness."
"I'm not saying that. But the Emperor is not a politician. The Chrysanthemum Throne should not be concerned with matters of state. The Japanese people should decide such things for themselves."
"The Japanese people?" the younger man asked blankly. "Of which han?"
"I'm not talking about any of the han," Ryoma said, his dark eyes expanding. 'Take America, for instance. From what I hear, the Americans have never had such things as han, samurai, daimyo, Bakufu or Shogun. America is one nation, a union of individual states, the United States of America where all people are equal. That's what we need in Japan, a union of the individual han to form one strong, central government."
Yokoi's nephew was dumbfounded. He had heard his uncle speak of centralized government representative of the people, to replace the Tokugawa hegemony. The notion excited him. But the idea of a union of individual han was as preposterous as the concept of all people, regardless of birthright, being equal. "How can you talk of a union of the han?" he asked, "when there are such bitter rivalries as the one between Satsuma and Choshu?"
"That's hist it," Ryoma said, pounding the floor. "If Satsuma and Choshu were to unite there would be nothing that could stop them from toppling the Bakufu,"
"If all the han were to unite," the younger man said, "which of the daimyo would become Shogun?"
"There would be no daimyo? Ryoma answered bluntly. "And there would be no Shogun."
"Continue," Yokoi urged, refilling Ryoma's cup.
The people would elect a president to govern them," Ryoma said.
"The people?" the younger man asked. "What people?"
"You and I and everyone else," Yokoi interrupted. "The Japanese people should have the freedom, the inalienable right, to determine their own destiny. And the first step toward this is the establishment of a central government which would represent the people, with a president as its head who has been elected by the people and who is answerable only to the people." Yokoi paused to take a deep breath. "But," be added with severe calm, "the sovereign of any form of Japanese government must be His Imperial Highness, who is answerable to nobody”.
"Sensei," Ryoma interrupted, "I beg to differ. The people must be sovereign, and the Emperor must be answerable to the people, otherwise the Emperor would be no better than the Shogun or the daimyo"
Yokoi breathed deeply, then took a firm hold of Ryoma's wrist. "I agree wholeheartedly with everything you have said until now. But," he took a gulp of the strong white liquor, "never compare the Emperor with other men." For all his progressive thought, Yokoi Shonan revered the Emperor as a god. "And I would like to take this opportunity to offer you some important advice, Ryoma. Watch what you say over the next few years. There are a lot of people who aren't ready for such radical ideas, and I don't want to see anything happen to you."
Ryoma nodded silently, his mind too occupied with what they had been discussing, particularly his own idea of a Satsuma-Choshu alliance, to heed the wise man's good advice.
Choshu Ablaze
Just as Ryoma s notion of a Satsuma-Choshu alliance seemed preposterous, his very actions over these past two years were an enigma to most of his comrades. Not only had he been among the first to flee Tosa at a time when the Loyalist Party was gaining power, but shortly after this he had entered into the service of the Bakufu s navy commissioner who espoused opening Japan. Ami where was this sworn enemy of the Bakufu when his Choshu comrades were banished from Kyoto? He was helping Ka is hit establish a naval academy, financed by the enemy regime. What was Ryoma doing while Hanpeita and the other Tosa Loyalists were arrested in Kochi? He was in Edo urging the Bakufu s commissioner of foreign affairs to help him secure the use of a Tokugawa warship for the naval academy. And despite the steadfast willingness of virtually all of his comrades (with the exception of the handful of men he had managed to enlist for the academy) to die for Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism, Ryoma professed the virtues of free international trade to strengthen the nation.
Preposterous perhaps, but preposterous ideas were an intrinsic part of the Dragon's nature. It was in Ryoma s basic makeup to act, to strive, and to risk his life for goals which his comrades could not readily comprehend; and it was this very quality which was both the key to his greatness and the source of his deepest sorrow.
Ryoma returned to Kobe headquarters with Yokoi's nephew, where he spent the next month and a half training with his men aboard the Kanko Maru. During this time Kaishu's naval academy was officially recognized by Edo, and an additional two hundred men from various clans enrolled.
On the morning of the last day in May, Ryoma received a message from Yokoi Shonan urging him to gather together as many ronin as possible and get them out of Kyoto, and, if possible, send them to Ezo as he had planned. "I expect Choshu to attack at any time," Yokoi warned.
Since being banished from Kyoto in the coup of the previous summer, Choshu had been planning to strike back at the Satsuma and Aizu troops which guarded the Imperial Palace, ft was Choshu*s immediate goal to regain direct influence over the Emperor, who, in Western standards, might be likened to a football, now in the hands of the Satsuma-Aizu team, with Choshu fighting to recapture control. Since ancient times, Japanese Emperors had traditionally sided with the strongest of all opposing forces; Choshu's ultra-extremism, not to mention coercion from Satsuma-Aizu, left the present Emperor no choice but to flow with the tide of history, for the time being at least.
Ryoma reasoned that a civil war at this time would be disastrous for the antt-Bakufu movement. Choshu was the fulcrum of the movement, and the hordes of ronin in Kyoto its lifeblood. In order that this lifeblood not be spilled, and the fulcrum not be crushed, he loft immediately for Kyoto, "1 have to talk to Katsura Kogoro," he told his men before leaving shortly after receiving Yokoi's message. Although Choshu had been expelled from the Imperial capital, it was allowed to maintain its Kyoto headquarters, where Katsura was stationed. Ryoma set out in the pouring rain for a nearby boat-landing, where he caught a ferry across the bay to Osaka. From here he planned to catch a riverboat, and arrive in Kyoto that night.
By the time Ryoma reached Osaka the rain had stopped. "I have to get as many of those men out of Kyoto as possible," be thought aloud, as he hurried through the streets toward the riverboat-landing. His clothes, wet from rain and sweat, clung to his body. Then, when the time is right, we can call them back to Kyoto where they can be of use in the revolution, rather than sitting by waiting to be cut down by the ronin-hunters." Ryoma momentarily gripped the hilt of his sword, as he thought that Choshu was simply not ready to go to war against the Bakufu. "But if I could somehow unite Choshu with Satsuma, the Bakufu wouldn't stand a chance." Ryoma, however, was well aware that despite the large number of anti-Bakufu Loyalists among the Satsuma samurai, that han was under the firm control of Lord Hisamitsu. ,the father of the child-daimyo, who had allied himself with both Edo and Kyoto in last summer's coup.
There must be a way to get Satsuma and Choshu on the same side," he agonized to himself, as he hurried through the streets of Osaka toward the riverboat-landing. He turned down a narrow back-street to save time, but what he thought would be a shortcut led him to a scene that would change his life. "I know as well as anyone else that Satsuma and Choshu are both striving for the same goal," be thought. "But with Choshu on the verge of exploding, time is the biggest problem." Ryoma groaned as he hastened his pace, then suddenly stopped short in his tracks.
What he saw was fantastic: a young woman arguing furiously with two thugs. Oryo was petite, strikingly beautiful, but dressed in rags, the soft, white skin of her face streaked with sweat and dust, her eyes filled with fire. Something clicked in Ryoma's mind, as he stood there, amazed at the girl's display of courage. Had he known that she would someday be his wife, his amazement would surely have been tenfold.
"Release my sister who you deceived into coming with you to Osaka," the girl screamed, then lunged at one of the thugs, grabbing him by the lapel of his livery coat and slapping his face. "You want to die, stupid woman?" the thug roared. "Go ahead, kill me," Oryo screamed defiantly. "That's why I came all the way to Osaka, to get killed. That would really be something," she laughed. "Go ahead, kill me, you coward." "Stop!" Ryoma shouted, releasing the latch to the sheath of his sword. The two thugs glared at the intruder who stood nearly a head taller than either of them. Both men wore livery coals which hung midway down their thighs, and thin cotton hakama. Their arms were heavily tattooed.
'•What's the problem?" Ryoma snickered. "Is the girl giving you two a hard time?"
"Ah, well, you see, ah..."one of the thugs stammered, obviously intimidated by the samurai.
"Go ahead, spit it out."
"Why you..." the other thug flared, drawing a dagger from his coat.
"Drop it or you die," Ryoma said with stone-cold eyes.
The man immediately dropped the dagger.
“You too!" Ryoma demanded, staring viciously at the other man.
"Yes, sir," the man said, also producing a dagger, and dropping it to the ground. When die girl drew a knife from her kimono and pointed it at one of the thugs, Ryoma burst out laughing. "Very good! Now, tell me what's going on here."
"They have my younger sister and I want her back." Oryo spoke defiantly, with a refined Kyoto accent.
"Where is she?" Ryoma asked.
"If I knew, do you think I'd be wasting my time fighting with these two idiots?"
"I guess not," Ryoma said, amused by the girl's pluck. Then returning his eyes to the thugs, "Where's the other girl?" he demanded, still gripping the hilt of his sword.
"Ah, in there," one for them answered meekly, pointing to a small, dilapidated house less than one hundred paces away.
"You!" Ryoma shouted at the other thug. "You go get her while the rest of us wail here. If you're not back with the girl in three minutes, your friend will be dead."
"Don't just stand there, you idiot," the petrified man screamed, frantically waving his arms in the air. "Run and get the girl."
Soon the girl was returned safely, and Ryoma accompanied the two sisters to Kyoto by riverboat. Along the way Oryo spoke of herself and her family. At twenty-three, she was the eldest of five children: three daughters and two sons. Their father, a Kyoto physician, had been a noted Loyalist and close friend of several of the victims of li Naosuke's purge. When he suddenly died of illness two years before, Oryo and her mother were forced to sell their household belongings and even most of their clothes to survive. Eventually, Oryo, who had been accustomed to having servants of her own, was compelled to take a job as a maid. During Oryo's absence, her mother had been deceived into selling her sixteen-year-old sister Kimie, into prostitution in Osaka, and the thirteen-year-old Mitsue into similar straits in Kyoto, When Oryo learned what had happened she immediately retrieved Mitsue from a Kyoto brothel, before going to Osaka to retrieve Kimie.
"And that was where you found me," Oryo told Ryoma. "How can I ever repay you?"
Ryoma had never felt so utterly good about being with a woman, despite all the work he had before him. Indeed, the tasks awaiting him were Herculean in Scale: convincing Choshu to hold off on its attack; sending men to Ezo to develop the northern territory; somehow uniting Satsuma and Choshu; forming a private navy to conduct free trade between Ezo and Nagasaki, and to procure warships and guns to overthrow the Bakufu.
"Come with me to the Teradaya in Fushimi," Ryoma said. "You and your sister seem to need a place to stay. The proprietress, Otose, is a good friend of mine, and I'm sure I can convince her to hire you as a maid."
Oryo's eyes lit up. "But how can I ever repay you?" she repeated.
"You already have," Ryoma said, smiling.
As the three did not reach Fushimi until nearly midnight, Ryoma stayed the night at the Teradaya. and continued on to Kyoto the next morning. He had lost precious time with the ordeal in Osaka, and was anxious to get to Choshu headquarters "before." be had told himself, "all hell breaks loose."
Although Ryoma sympathized with the plight of Choshu, he was even more concerned that a civil war might provide the foreigners with an ideal opportunity to invade Japan, and subjugate it as they had China. "Without Choshu," he had told his men before leaving Kobe, "our chances of toppling the Bakufu are slim. But," he warned, lest any of them be tempted to join those Tosa men who had fled to Choshu after Yodo's crackdown in Kochi. "We’re not ready for war. We need more time to prepare." "When do you suppose we'll be ready?" one of them had asked. "After we've established a trading network, with bases in Kobe, Nagasaki, and Ezo. Then our ships can carry cargo up and down the archipelago. With the profits we'll buy more ships, cannon and rifles from foreign traders in Nagasaki. We'll recruit more and more men until we've become the strongest naval force in Japan. As it is, we're preparing ourselves everyday by training right here," Ryoma said, staring out at the Black Dragon, one of the academy's two training ships anchored in the bay.
Later that morning, Ryoma disembarked from a riverboat at Kyoto, and hurried on foot northward along the eastern bank of the Takasegawa. Just as he was passing the arched wooden Shijo Bridge which spanned the canal, a muffled voice called his name.
The voice came from behind die gate of a house on his immediate right. A wooden sign which hung on the gate read: "Kiemon's Masuya Shop-utensils, gadgets and other paraphernalia."
Ryoma stopped short in his tracks, immediately drawing his sword. "Behind here," (to voice whispered, as the gate opened slightly.
"Kotaka!" Ryoma said, slightly annoyed but relieved, then resheathed his sword. "Sh! Come in here quickly," Kotaka demanded.
Kotaka Shuntaro was a Choshu spy disguised as a merchant. He ran the Masuya Shop, and went by the alias "Kiemon." With his mild manners and Kyoto accent, nobody ever imagined that the merchant, who had lived in the city since childhood, was actually a samurai. Living in the heart of Kyoto, amid the various han headquarters, and in close proximity to the Imperial Palace, Kotaka was in an excellent position to gather information vital to the revolution. He used his downstairs shop to keep a stockpile of rifles and ammunition, which he kept hidden for the impending countcrcoup; in his living quarters upstairs he hid Loyalists who had remained in Kyoto after the coup of the previous summer. At age thirty-five, Kotaka was a veteran Loyalist and former disciple of founders of the Loyalist movement who had been executed during Ii's purge. Ryoma had been introduced to Kotaka two years before by Kusaka Genzui, when Ryoma was in hiding at Choshu's Kyoto headquarters.
"Do you want to get us both killed?" Kotaka said after he had safely closed the gate behind Ryoma. "The Shinsengumi are patrolling the streets. And who knows how many other spies are lurking about. I've been waiting here for you for hours."
"How did you..."
"Know that you'd be here?" Kotaka finished the question.
"Yes."
"I've just come from your naval headquarters in Kobe."
Ryoma's expression grew dark. "What were you doing mere?" he demanded.
"We'll discuss that after we're inside the house, where nobody can hear us. One can never be too cautious."
Soon Ryoma and Kotaka were sitting inside with two others: Miyabe Teizo, a ronin from Kumamoto, and his elderly manservant. A close friend of Yokoi's, Miyabe had been chief instructor of military science in Kumamoto Castletown before fleeing in 1861 to join the movement for Imperial Reverence and Expelling the Barbarians. At age forty-four he was one of the most influential Loyalists in Kyoto. After the coup Miyabe had been banished from Kyoto with the Choshu men and the seven radical nobles, but having returned undercover earlier this year, he was now hiding with his manservant at Kotaka's home.
"We need all the men we can get for the coup," Kotaka told Ryoma. Then turning to Miyabe, "Would you please show him the plan of attack you have drawn up?" Kotaka smiled, confident that he could impress Ryoma with what he considered ingenious military strategy.
Miyabe produced a folded document, which Ryoma began reading silently, incredulously. '"On a windy night, sometime around June 20, our troops will set fire to the Imperial Palace, and in the resulting uproar kidnap the Emperor. The second platoon will wait in hiding for the Protector of Kyoto to rush to the scene, as he inevitably will, and cut him down on the spot. Meanwhile, the first platoon will bring the Emperor to a safe place just outside of Kyoto. After they arrive, they will request His Imperial Highness to issue an Imperial decree to attack the Bakufu. This achieved, we will have the court reinstate the Seven Banished Nobles, and appoint the Land of Choshu as Protector of Kyoto.'"
Ryoma stopped reading, took a deep breath. He returned the document to Miyabe, but for the moment was too shaken by the reckless plan to speak.
"All the men involved in this coup will meet at the Ikedaya inn at eight o'clock on the evening of June 3 to discuss the final details. We hope you'll be there, Sakamoto-san. As a matter of fact, I've spoken to some of your men to Kobe, and..."
"That's why I've come to Kyoto today," Ryoma said angrily. "1 was just on my way to Choshu headquarters to see Katsura. I figure that he's the only one around here that will listen to reason." "Don't underestimate Katsura," Miyabe said with a devious smile. "Sakamoto," Kotaka said, his eyes open wide, "have you lost your nerve now that you're working on the side of Katsu Kaishu?"
Ryoma looked hard into Kotaka's eyes. "I'm the head of Katsu's naval academy," he said firmly, "and Katsu is the greatest man in Japan."
Kotaka snickered. "The last time we talked, about two years ago, you were absolutely determined to destroy the Bakufu."
"As I am today. But we're just not ready yet. Don't you understand? That's exactly why I want to talk to Katsura. No matter how powerful Choshu is, it can't take on the combined forces of the Bakufu, Aizu, Satsuma, Fukui and Tosa." Ryoma paused, wiped his sweaty forehead with his sleeve. "But I have a great plan."
After telling of his plan to send men to Ezo, Ryoma said, "Although all of you are welcome to join our naval academy in Kobe, if I so much as catch anyone urging my men to throw away their lives on a premature, reckless attack that is doomed from the start," he paused to control his anger, "I'll cut him down myself," he finally exploded, slamming his huge fist on the floor with such force that he left a dent in the tatami.
"I won't go back to Kobe," Kotaka assured "But I must tell you that I've already talked to your men, and some of them have agreed to join us."
The news came as no surprise to Ryoma. Most of his men were ronin who had abandoned their han to die for the Loyalist cause. Even Ryoma himself might have been tempted to join the rebels had he never met Katsu Kaishu. "Who?" Ryoma demanded. "Kitsuma and Kameyata," Kotaka said
"Kitsuma and Kame!" Ryoma exploded. "I can't let them get themselves killed for no reason at all!" Ryoma's eyes flashed with indignation. He had been depending on Kitsuma to lead the expedition to Ezo, while Kameyata was one of his most trusted and closest friends at Kobe. Ryoma stood up. "1 believe that those two are just rash enough to join you," he said.
Ryoma left the house, and arrived at nearby Choshu headquarters soon after, where he found Katsura Kogoro. "I've just come from Kotaka's house," Ryoma said. "So you've heard about the plan?" Katsura said grimly. Although Katsura was indeed a leader of the Choshu Loyalists, his cool rational mind resembled Ryoma's. But unlike Ryoma-and Loyalists such as Kotaka and Miyabe-Katsura's first concern was for the welfare of his own clan; it was to Choshu Han that be was dedicated.
As Katsura explained, the Choshu Loyalists, though fighting to inevitably overthrow the Bakufu, had recently become divided as to the best way to achieve their goal. Since the previous summer, the entire clan had been planning its return to Imperial grace. The Lord of Choshu, backed by several 0f his ministers, including Katsura himself, favored a rational approach to revolution. After their stunning defeat to the foreigners at Shimonoseki, they now realized that they would have to fortify themselves with Western warships and guns before going to war with either the Tokugawa or the foreigners. Opposed to this were me Choshu extremists who would raise as large an army as possible in Choshu, march into Kyoto later this summer, and plead with the court to reinstate them to Imperial grace. This accomplished, they would declare an Imperial government independent of Edo, before raising more troops to crush the Bakufu.
"And if the court refused?" Ryoma asked.
"Then they would follow Miyabe's plan."
Ryoma groaned. "It'll never work. The minute they marched into Kyoto, Aizu and Satsuma would be ready with thousands of troops and an Imperial decree to crush them." Ryoma pounded his fist on the floor. "They must be stopped"
"You're right! But it's not that simple. If I show too much restraint in this matter, Choshu will lose the support of Miyabe, Kotaka, and with them the hundreds of ronin in the Osaka-Kyoto area. We need those men for me revolution."
Katsura was one of the highest ranking officials in the Choshu government. Unlike Ryoma, he had not abandoned his han, nor had he any intention of doing so. But just as Ryoma was the leader of his men in Kobe, Katsura was the leader of the hundreds of Loyalist ronin who remained in Kyoto, impatient for the revolution to begin. His official post in Choshu placed him in an even greater position of power than Miyabe, who, for all his leadership abilities, was nevertheless an outlaw with no official backing.
"Then you must be as concerned for their safety as I am," Ryoma said.
"Of course I'm concerned for their safety," Katsura said.
Ryoma slapped himself on the knee. "Good! I have a perfect solution," he said confidently, and told Katsura of his plan to send ronin to Ezo. "And I'm depending on your help to convince them to go."
"I like the idea. I too would like to keep as many of them alive as possible, but.."
"But what?"
Katsura looked straight into Ryoma's eyes. "I can't risk splitting our forces in two."
You can't risk the lives of hundreds of men," Ryoma shouted. "How do you propose stopping them from committing mass-suicide?"
Through Kijima. He's the most explosive man in Choshu. I must convince him to persuade the others, including Miyabe and Kotaka, to hold off. The only problem is that Kijima is as rash as they are."
Ryoma had heard about the forty-eight-year-old Choshu leader, Kijima
Matabe, compared to whom even the extremists Kusaka and Takasugi
seemed mild. Determined to die this year to resurrect Choshu to Imperial
grace, Kijima refused to listen to orders from even the Lord of Choshu himself.
I'll abandon Choshu," he had told officials at the Choshu administration office, begging for permission to lead his guerrilla squadron of five
hundred into Kyoto. "That way ft won't be 'Kijima the Choshu samurai'
fighting, but 'Kijima the ronin' Then, even if we fell, the Imperial Court will have no grounds to declare Choshu an enemy."
Katsura continued. "Old Kijima is the rashest, most stubborn man in Choshu. And our men love him for it. Nobody can control him, not even the daimyo himself." "Where is Kijima now?" Ryoma asked.
"In Choshu," Katsura said. "He's recruiting an army. And I'm equally worried about what Kusaka and Takasugi might do."
Takasugi Shinsaku was a born rebel. In the previous June he had formed Japan's first modem militia, the Extraordinary Corps, which, in addition to samurai, included men from the peasant and merchant classes. Although the corps had originally been formed to defend Choshu from foreign invasion, Takasugi had an ulterior motive in recruiting this unprecedented band of fighting men: the overthrow of the Tokugawa Bakufu. The foreigners had easily defeated Choshu's forces, which consisted entirely of samurai whose sole purpose for hundreds of years had been to protect the Choshu domain. But after two and a half centuries of peace, these samurai, like their counterparts throughout most of Japan, had forgotten how to fight. Takasugi's plan to recruit commoners as well as samurai was nevertheless unheard of. The whole of Japanese society was based on the system of the different social classes into which people were born, and aside from a few exceptional cases, remained until death. Accordingly, only the samurai were allowed to bear arms, but Takasugi's Extraordinary Corps, living up to its name, challenged the very social structure of Tokugawa feudalism by arming the commoners. Naturally, Ryoma liked the idea. He too had gone beyond class to recruit men for his private navy. Ryoma, in fact, took the break from feudalism one step further: his navy would consist of men from all over Japan, with no question of han whatsoever.
"Takasugi is in jail," Katsura said, a vexed look on his race.
"For what?" Ryoma asked.
"Ostensibly for rig Choshu without permission, but actually to keep bun under control for the time being. But he'll soon be released. He's invaluable to us."
Ryoma wiped the sweat from his brow with his sleeve. "How many men does Takasugi have under his command?"
"About three hundred, I've been trying to explain to Kijima, Kusaka and Takasugi that before we go to war we must procure more warships and guns from the foreigners. But the only one who might listen to reason is Takasugi. And like I said, he's locked up." Katsura sighed, then continued. "The Bakufu has three thousand troops in Kyoto alone. I know as well as you do that we're going to need more than just rash determination to defeat them. Without more warships and guns our Hon doesn't stand a chance."
"No," Ryoma cut in hard, "that's where you're wrong. Forget about your turn. It's Japan we must be concerned for. Without Western technology and weapons, it's Japan that doesn't stand a chance. Can't you understand that the whole feudal system is rotten to the core? It's not only the Bakufu, but all
of the clans and our whole class-oriented society. The only way we are going to be able to compete with the rest of the world is if we unite into one strong nation where everyone is equal. Look at the United States of America. It has no clans, no feudal class system. The president of the nation is answerable to its citizens. There is freedom for everyone there. Freedom to think, freedom to conduct trade. And the only way we will ever be able to achieve this in Japan is by first overthrowing the Bakufu, and then abolishing the feudal system." Ryoma paused, his eyes on fire, his face dripping with sweat.
Katsura nodded slowly. "So it is, Sakamoto-san. So it is. I've been negotiating with representatives of different clans for the past six months to find a way for us to unite with one another. But, let me ask you this: How are the individual hart ever going to unite when there is so much turmoil between us? At this stage it's impossible. It has come to the point in Choshu where we feel more animosity for Edo, Satsuma and Aizu than we do for the barbarians."
Ryoma gave Katsura a hard look. "The only way to do it would be for Choshu and Satsuma to unite first," he said in a low voice. "If this could be realized, the other clans would certainly follow suit, and the Tokugawa Bakufu would fell."
Katsura looked wide-eyed at Ryoma, then laughed derisively. "Satsuma and Choshu unite? Surely you're not serious," "I've never been more serious in my life," Ryoma confirmed. "But Satsuma is the worst of them all," Katsura said bitterly. "They've forsaken the cause to overthrow the Bakufu by uniting with Aizu. Now, the Bakufu, Aizu and Satsuma are waiting anxiously for Choshu to make a suicidal march into Kyoto. They know very well how hotheaded the Choshu Loyalists are. Then when our hart has been proclaimed an 'Imperial Enemy,' the Bakufu, Aizu and Satsuma are confident that they will have no trouble enlisting troops from other clans to crush Choshu once and for all, then confiscate our domain. And," Katsura concluded, "That's why we hate the traitorous Satsuma," "What do you intend to do?"
"Exactly what I've been doing for the past several months." Katsura lowered his voice to a whisper. "Continue secret negotiations with other Loyalists in Kyoto to get as much support as possible among the other han,
and at the same time to keep the ronin in this city from doing anything drastic."
"Then help me recruit men to settle the northern territory," Ryoma said. Tm sorry, Sakamoto-san. It would be impossible at this time."
With no choice but to postpone his Ezo plans, Ryoma returned to Kobe headquarters. He was drenched from the hard rain and exhausted when he reached the barracks shortly after midnight. It was completely dark inside, the only sound the crashing of the waves, the falling of the rain and the heavy breathing of men sound asleep. "Where's Kame?" Ryoma roared, walking up everyone.
"What's that....? a voice called out. "Who's here?" called another. "It's me, Ryoma. Where's Kame and Kitsuma?" "I'm right here." The voice was Kameyata's. "And where's Kitsuma?"
"I'm over here." Although Kitsuma was not a member of the academy, he was friendly with most of the men, and needed a place to stay before returning to Kyoto to take part in the uprising. "Someone light a lantern," Ryoma said. "I can't see a thing." One of the men obliged, and Ryoma looked around the room. All of his closest friends were present for the welfare of each he felt a heavy responsibility. "I talked to Kotaka today," he said. "He told me that there are some of you who would like to throw your lives away in an uprising in Kyoto that is doomed from the start." As he spoke, his face turned red with anger. "Of all the stupid ideas!" he roared. "We have a navy to build until we're strong enough to control the seas all the way from Nagasaki to Ezo, none of us can afford the luxury of dying." Ryoma paused, and the room became silent "If any of you really intend to leave, you'll have to kill me first," he said, before storming out of the room.
Exhausted, Ryoma went to his private room and slept, undisturbed until just after dawn, when Kameyata woke him.
"Kame!" Ryoma sat up. "Don't tell me!"
"I couldn't kill you," Kameyata said, "even if I had a mind to. But I have to go. Please understand."
"If you go, I'm afraid you'll die," Ryoma said grimly.
Kameyata struggled to hold back tears. "That's why f left Tosa in the first place. Please forgive me, but this is what I must do," he said before leaving Ryoma alone and frustrated.
Later in the day Ryoma received a message from Kaishu, summoning him to Edo. As he had one day to himself before his ship would sail, there was one person whom he very much wanted to see before he left.
Ryoma found Oryo at the Teradaya, where he had left her just two days before. The girl greeted him at the top of the stone stairway which led from the boat-landing on the river to the front gate of the inn. The fire in her eyes was gone now, and she was dressed properly in a clean kimono, her hair arranged neatly, a light brown boxwood ornamental hairpin stuck through one side. "I was wondering when I'd see you again," Oryo said, as the proprietress, Otose. also came out to greet Ryoma.
"I thought I'd stop by and see how things were," Ryoma said, then burst out laughing at the expression on the faces of the two women. Indeed, he looked comical standing there at the top of the stairs, this tough leader of one hundred TOHW, much in need of a bath, his clothes badly worn, hair a tattered mess. swords hanging at his side, but smiling ecstatically at the pretty young girl.
"Things are just fine," Otose assured. "But come in, Sakamoto-san. Please come right in. You look tike you could use a nice hot bath."
"I'd like a drink instead," Ryoma said.
"First a bath," the innkeeper insisted. "When you've finished, I'm sure Oryo will be glad to serve you sake. You can take the same room you always use upstairs." At thirty-five, Otose was like an older sister to Ryoma, her in a second home to him, a place where he knew he could find a brief moment's repose during these very troubled times. Being at the Teradaya is "like being buck in Tosa" he wrote to his sister Otome. "They really take good care of me there."
After bathing, Ryoma put on his dirty clothes and went upstairs to his room, where Oryo was waiting. She had set a small table with two large flasks of sake and a cup. "Why didn't you put on the clean bathrobe I put out for you?" she asked.
"I can't stay long. I have to leave this evening." Ryoma sat down next to Oryo, and placed a small pouch of gold coins on the table. "I'll have sake now," he said.
Oryo filled his cup. "I'm forever in your debt for your kindness," she said.
Ryoma said nothing until draining the cup and handing it to the girl. "I'm just happy to see that you're alright. Where's your sister?"
"In Kyoto with my mother." Oryo took Ryoma's hand. "You look tired."
"I haven't felt this good in a long time. Here, have a drink." He filled the cup for Oryo, then took a swig from the flask.
"Sakamoto-san, please use the cup. Here, let me pour for you."
"Don't bother. The sake tastes just as good this way." Ryoma laughed, and took another swig. "I'm tired," he said, lying down, resting his head on the girl's lap. "I haven't fell this good in ages. Not in ages." Ryoma was soon asleep.
Later that night Oryo came quietly into Ryoma's room.
"What time is it?" he started.
"Almost midnight."
"I have to go!"
"So soon? I thought you might at least stay the night"
"No, I have to leave now. Here." He picked up the pouch he had placed on the table earlier, and emptied the gold coins on the floor. He kept five for himself, and gave the rest to the girl. "Fifteen ryo ought to be enough for a while," he said.
"I couldn't.."
"Take it. You'll need it for yourself and your family. I'll come see you when I return from Edo." "When will that be?"
"I don't know." Ryoma stood up, and walked over to the alcove to get his swords. "But wait here for me."
That night Ryoma took a riverboat to Osaka, where he boarded a Bakufu steamer which set sail to Edo the next afternoon.
The night of June 4 was scorching, and Kotaka Shuntaro-alias Kiemon, owner of the Masuya Shop-had just fallen asleep when he was awaken by the sound of someone running up the wooden staircase of his two-storied house. Suddenly the sliding door burst open, and Kotaka noticed that his body was drenched in sweat.
"Who's there?" he called out, reaching for a dagger he kept hidden in his bedding.
"Kotaka Shuntaro!" a voice shouted.
It was at this moment, his identity discovered, that Kotaka Shuntaro realized he was going to die. He sat up immediately and saw the figure of a tall, heavily built, square-jawed man, his sword drawn, his full head of hair tied in a topknot, his eyes glaring in the moonlight which shined through the window. "Who are you?" Kotaka demanded, slowly sliding the dagger from its sheath, and maintaining a perfect calm. This was not the first time that the revolutionary spy had been confronted by a drawn sword.
I'm Kondo Isami, commander of the Shinsengumi," the man roared. "By the authority of the Lord of Aizu and Protector of Kyoto you're under arrest for conspiring to overthrow the government."
"Shinsengumi!" Kotaka gasped. "Kondo Isami!" The commander of the Shinsengumi, which had arrested scores of ronin in Kyoto and cut down many others since its formation in the previous year, was notorious. Despite the heat of the night, a shiver ran down Kotaka's spine. "I don't know what you're talking about," Kotaka insisted. "You have the wrong man. I'm Kiemon, owner of the shop downstairs."
Just then another, much younger man stormed into the room. "Commander Kondo," he said excitedly, "we've located a compartment in the wall of a closet downstairs filled with guns and ammunition. There must be enough gunpowder in there to Wow up the entire city. And this too." When the man handed the written conspiracy to Kondo, Kotaka's face turned the color of chalk. Kondo unfolded the document, and as he read his face contorted with safer.
It was only natural that Kondo should detest Kotaka; his corps was in charge of protecting Kyoto (and the Emperor himself) from the radical ronin who had turned the Imperial capital into a bloodbath of Heaven's Revenge. Ironically, however, Kondo and Kotaka shared the same basic ideals: imperial Reverence and Expelling the Barbarians. But when it came to the question of how to achieve these ideals, the Shinsengumi and the Loyalists clashed: Rondo's men were willing to die to maintain the present order of things, while the rebels were equally resolved to destroy it,
""Set fire to the Imperial Palace,"' Kondo read the conspiracy as incredulously as bad Ryoma a few days earlier. '"Kidnap the Emperor,'" he continued, seething. '"Car down the Protector of Kyoto.' "Scoundrels," he roared, grabbing hold of the much smaller man and jerking him to his knees. Just then Kotaka raised his dagger, but before he could plunge the blade into his own belly, Kondo delivered a powerful blow to his jaw.
"Traitor!" Kondo roared, grabbing the dagger, and kicking Kotaka several times in the abdomen, once in the groin. "We're not ready for you to die just yet. Tie him up," he told the other man. "I want him alive for questioning."
Kotaka's hate for the Shinsengumi was no less severe than was Kondo's hate for the rebels. The Shinsengumi, Kotaka claimed, was nothing but a band of traitors pretending to revere the Emperor, but which in reality was a vile organ of the corrupt Tokugawa Bakufu.
Actually, the Shinsengumi was apolitical. The conduct of the men of the Shinsengumi was ruled by the iron will of their two leaders, Kondo Isami and Hijikata Toshizo, neither of whom questioned the virtues of the Bakufu. The Tokugawa, they reasoned, had ruled well for two and a half centuries; it was under the authority of the Tokugawa Shogun-from whom they received a generous monthly stipend-that they were determined to achieve their goal of expelling the foreigners. As suggested by their symbol-the Chinese character for "sincerity"-Kondo and Hijikata were concerned with one basic tenet: if they commanded their corps based on the unwritten code of the samurai, then everything else would fall into place. Accordingly, they composed a list of prohibitions to be strictly adhered to by all members:
1) Violating the code of the samurai
2) Quitting the corps
3) Raising money for selfish purposes
4) Fighting for personal reasons
Violation of any of these prohibitions was punishable by death. Attached to the prohibitions was a list of rules, one of which particularly contributed to the ferocity for which the Shinsengumi was notorious. Conceived of by the bellicose mind of Hijikata Toshizo, the rule stated: "If any member of the corps should draw his sword, he must kill his opponent If he merely wounds him and let's him escape, then he must commit seppuku"
When questioned about the sanity of this rule, Hijikata replied, "It is designed to make our men fight harder."
"But don't you think that it might backfire? If one of our men thinks that an opponent is apt to get away from him alive, he might be tempted to avoid a fight in the first place."
"Then that man would be obligated to commit seppuku for violating the First Prohibition, which prohibits violating the code of the samurai."
'But with such a tough rule, some of our men are bound to quit."
"All cowards are accounted for by the Second Prohibition," Hijikata said. Anyone who quits must commit seppuku."
Kotaka had felt that for the past month the Shinsengumi was watching him. He had constantly worried that the corps was suspicious of the many tarn coming and going from his house, but did not realize that it was only recently that the authorities bad begun to suspect him. Actually, carelessness on the part of Miyabe had caused this suspicion, On the afternoon of June 1, the day after Ryoma had visited them, Miyabe had sent his elderly manservant, Chuzo, on an errand from Kotaka's house to Kumamoto headquarters in Kyoto. Chuzo lacked discretion. He was prone to boast of his close relationship with the famous Loyalist leader, and another "by the name of Kotaka Shuntaro." Rather than arresting Chuzo on the spot, the corps let him unwittingly lead them to Kotaka's home, thereafter posting one of their men, disguised as a beggar, to keep a constant watch on the Masuya Shop. Further investigation led the corps to confirm that Chuzo's claims were true: the man who called himself "Kiemon, owner of the Masuya Shop," was indeed a ronin by the name of Kotaka Shuntaro, who was acting as a spy for Choshu. Fortunately for Miyabe and Chuzo, they were away when Kondo and his men raided the Masuya, returning only to find Kotaka missing, the house ransacked, and the guns and ammunition they had planned to use for the uprising gone.
"Once Hijikata gets his hands on this one," Kondo growled, glaring at Kotaka, "he'll beat the truth out of him. Let's get him to headquarters."
Hijikata did not disappoint Kondo. Although Kotaka stoically endured hours of excruciating interrogation, adamantly refusing to divulge any more information about the conspiracy than had already been discovered, Hijikata's final method of torture proved too horrible to endure.
The afternoon was unbearably hot, and Hijikata had run out of patience. "This is your last chance," he seethed. Kotaka was hanging upside down from one of several heavy wooden beams which extended across the high ceiling, his feet and arms bound. "Where and when is the meeting going to take place?" Hijikata demanded, but Kotaka still refused to answer.
"Traitorous scoundrel!" Hijikata roared, then drove wooden spikes through Kotaka's feet, put candles on both spikes and lit the wicks. The hot wax dripped onto the open wounds, but still Kotaka refused to talk, although his terrible screams could be heard throughout the surrounding town. Kotaka wished beyond hope that he could either pass out from the pain or else get his hands on a sword with which to kill himself. Finally Kotaka reached the point where he could no longer stand the pain. "It's tonight, June 5," he said in agony, "at the Hour of the Dog, at the Ikedaya, just west of the Sanjo Bridge."
Choshu headquarters was quiet on the relentlessly hot afternoon of June 5. Katsura Kogoro sat silently in the formal position, with an older man, Miyabe Teizo, who wore an expression of anguish on his heavyset face. Miyabe had just brought Katsura the news of Kotaka's arrest the night before.
"We must rescue him," Miyabe implored. "Imagine the torture they must be putting him through. And what's more, if he talks our plans will be ruined."
"They're already ruined." Katsura spoke in a low voice, back straight, hands on his thighs. "If the Shinsengumi knew enough to arrest Kotaka, surely they know more. And even if they don't.." Katsura stopped short, staring into Miyabe's eyes.
"If they don't?" Miyabe asked, wiping the sweat from his brow with a handkerchief. "They'll torture it out of him." Katsura cast a downward glance
182
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"That's all the re reason for us to act immediately. We must move tonight before the enemy has a chance to react."
"Please understand," Katsura pleaded. "I can't allow my men to get themselves killed trying to save one life. As for an attack on the Imperial Palace. Bad kidnapping the Emperor," Katsura paused, took a deep breath, "there are five thousand Bakufu troops in Kyoto. How are we going to fight them with twenty or thirty men? We must return to our individual domains, raise Loyalist armies, and then return to Kyoto. That will be the time to strike." What Katsura did not mention was that as the highest ranking Choshu official in Kyoto, he was in no position to take part in an uprising; if the countercoup failed, and he was sure it would, the very rashness of the act would weaken his credibility as the key Choshu diplomat in the Imperial capital, if not bring about the final downfall of Choshu.
"But you will attend the meeting tonight at the Ikedaya?" Miyabe pressed. "All of the weapons we had stored at Kotaka's place have been confiscated. We must meet tonight to decide if we should carry out our original plan postpone it until a later date."
Katsura had no choice but to agree, although he disdained Miyabe's reckless plan. For the very reason he had explained to Ryoma, he was obliged to appease the radicals, because Choshu could not afford to lose their support. Katsura picked up a fan, opened it and began fanning his face. "I'll be at the Ikedaya tonight," he promised, "with some other Choshu men."
Miyabe smiled. "You're the leader of the Loyalists in Kyoto," he said. "1 knew you wouldn't let us down." Miyabe felt confident that even the headstrong Katsura Kogoro could be convinced to give his support to Kotaka's rescue, and after that to the uprising. "I'll see you tonight at around eight."
Katsura left Choshu headquarters alone just before eight o'clock-the Hour of the Dog-and headed southward down Kawaramachi Road toward the Ikedaya inn. He wore a beige jack of silk gauze, his swords hanging at his left hip, and his wooden clogs scraping on the cobblestone road. Although he was anxious to get to the house of his lover-spy to see if she had discovered any new information, he headed directly for the Ikedaya, assuming that Ikumatsu would not be home yet. In fact, Ikumatsu was entertaining a small group of very interesting men this evening: high-ranking samurai of Aizu Han.
Kyoto was alive with celebration on the eve of the annual Gion Festival. Red and white paper lanterns lit both sides of the main road, glowing in front of the various shops, teahouses and restaurants. The steady pounding of drums, the winding of flutes, and the continuous clanging of brass bells filled the heavy, humid air. As nightfall offered no relief from the intense heat and humidity of the day, throngs of people filled the streets. "The people can celebrate," Katsura thought enviously. He passed through the thatched front gate of the Ikedaya, noticed light shining from the lattice-covered windows on the second floor, walked across the small garden, and slid open the<
They're upstairs. Katsura-san," the innkeeper, a Loyalist sympathizer, greeted him in the dark entranceway, a musty odor lingering above the damp cement pavement Katsura removed his clogs, stepped up onto the wooden floor, then climbed the steep, narrow wooden staircase. "I would hate to fight my way out of here," the expert swordsman thought to himself, then turned left at the top of the stairs. "And the corridor is no wider than the staircase," he thought, as he heard voices coming from one of the rooms. Suddenly the door opened, and out came a servant dressed in a livery coat, his sleeves rolled up to the elbows. He carried two large empty sake flasks, one under each arm. "Pardon me, Master," the servant said obsequiously, bowed his head and quickly hurried toward the stairs. Paying little attention to the man, Katsura looked into the room, where ten men were talking and drinking. "Where are Miyabe and the others?" he asked.
"They haven't arrived yet, Katsura-san. Please sit down and have a drink while we're waiting for them."
"It doesn't look like the meeting will be starting for a while." Katsura did not conceal his irritation. He wasn't sure which annoyed him more, Miyabe's tardiness, or the lackadaisical atmosphere in the room. "I have some business to attend to at Tsushima headquarters," he tied. (Katsura kept his relationship with Ikumatsu a secret, even from his comrades.) "I'll be back shortly," he said, before slamming the door shut.
Katsura left the Ikedaya and headed for Ikumatsu'• house near the western bank of the Kamogawa, just a short walk to the west. With the loud clanging of the festival bells filling his head, be stole through the darkness, snuck though the front gate.
"You're safe," the girl greeted him at the door, a look of relief in her black almond eyes. "Come in, quickly."
"Did you learn anything?" Katsura asked anxiously once inside the house. "You're safe. I thought I'd never..." she stopped short. "Never what? Come on, girl, speak!" "Nothing. Really, nothing at all," she lied. "I can't stay long. I have to get back to the Ikedaya." "I see." Ikumatsu feigned nonchalance.
"Did you learn anything this evening?" Katsura repeated, annoyed at the girl's reticence.
"No," Ikumatsu lied again, a faint shadow covering her ivory face when she realized that there was nothing she could say to convince him not to return to the inn. "Nothing?" Katsura asked incredulously.
"Nothing at all." Actually, Ikumatsu had just returned from a small party of Aizu men, where she learned that the Shinsengumi planned to attack the rebels at the Ikedaya on this very night. "I'll be right back with some sake" she said, then went into the next room. "Here," she said after returning momentarily, and offering Katsura a cupful. After several cupfuls, the drug began to take effect, and soon Katsura lay safely asleep in the house of his lover.
When Katsura finally awoke, his head ached. Realizing that he was Ikumatsu's house, he immediately got up, rubbed the back of his neck, and called the girl. "What time is it?"
"One in the morning," she said.
"One in the morning!" Katsura gasped. "How could I have slept for four hours? I must go."
"No. You mustn't The Ikedaya has been attacked."
"Attacked?" Katsura shouted.
"I've just come from there. There must be a thousand Aizu samurai surrounding the inn. It's like a war zone."
Katsura took firm hold of his lover's hands. "Ikumatsu," he said violently, a crazed look in his eyes. "You knew about the attack, didn't you."
"Yes."
"You drugged me, didn't you," he shouted angrily.
"I had to. I couldn't let you go. For the sake of the revolution," she lied. "Please forgive me."
Katsura released the girl's hands. "I'm going," he said.
"No. It's too dangerous. Please stay here until morning."
"I must get back to Choshu headquarters immediately to make sure that Bakufu troops don't try to storm the place if they haven't done so already." Katsura was worried that samurai of the Protector of Kyoto might use the uproar as an excuse to force their way into headquarters and search the premises for evidence linking Choshu to the planned uprising. As usual, he was more concerned for the welfare of Choshu than the lives of his comrades. "But I don't dare leave dressed like this," he said.
Katsura changed into some old clothes which he had kept at Ikumatsu’s house for just such an occasion, and disguised as a beggar, walked quickly through the darkness, just one block to Choshu headquarters. When be arrived, he found that the outer gate was bolted shut. "Let me in.*' he shouted.
"Who's there?" called a voice from within.
"It's me, Katsura. Open up quickly."
The gate opened immediately. On the other side stood several samurai who had followed his orders not to leave until he returned.
"Katsura-san, you're alive," one of them said,
"Yes. Where's Sugiyama?" he asked anxiously.
"He joined the fighting at the Ikedaya," the man said, "along with Ariyoshi and Yoshida."
"Bolt the gates," Katsura ordered. "Under no circumstances is anybody to be permitted entrance tonight."
"But what about our own men? What if some of them should return?"
The faces of Yoshida, Ariyoshi and Sugiyama flashed through Katsura's mind. It's my fault they were at the Ikedaya tonight, he thought to himself. As he would find out on the next morning, of his three comrades, only Ariyoshi was still alive. "Nobody is to enter tonight," Katsura ordered. "Choshu must not be implicated."
When the fighting at the Ikedaya had finally ended, eleven rebels were dead and twenty-three arrested In addition to the two Choshu men, among the dead were, Miyabe, Kitsuma and Kameyata. Although completely out-numbered, the Loyalists had fought fiercely, killing three of the Shinsengumi, and wounding two of its top swordsmen. Outside the rebels killed fifteen Bakufu and Aizu troops, and wounded several others. At the Ikedaya, the Shinsengumi had cut its way into the very psyche of these turbulent times, becoming the most feared police force in Japanese history. When news of the slaughter reached Hagi Castletown two days later, it reunited those Choshu men who up until now had advocated restraint, with their more radical clansmen, as anti-Tokugawa sentiment spread like wildfire across the entire domain.
• * •
When news of the Slaughter at the Ikedaya reached Ryoma in Edo, he grew downcast and despondent, then suddenly confused. He was beside himself with anger over the rashness of the rebels in Kyoto, and the death of his comrades. As he told Jutaro: "I, Sakamoto Ryoma, vow to overthrow the Tokugawa Bakufu. The same Tokugawa Bakufu that has lived off the sweat of the peasants for these past two and a half centuries. The same Tokugawa Bakufu that killed Men of High Purpose under li Naosuke. The same Tokugawa Bakufu that caused the downfall of Hanpeita's Loyalists. The same Tokugawa Bakufu that drove Choshu from Kyoto. The same Tokugawa Bakufu that is only concerned about its own preservation at the expense of the rest of Japan. And the same Tokugawa Bakufu..." Ryoma paused, choking back tears, "the same rotten Bakufu that sent its men to slaughter Kame and the others at the Ikedaya."
The attack on the Ikedaya, Ryoma knew, was the beginning of a full-fledged war between the Bakufu and the Loyalists. The incident destroyed his plans to settle the northern territory, which the Bakufu would now certainly refuse to finance. What's more, Ryoma was worried that the Bakufu might even punish Kaishu for harboring Loyalists at his academy.
Bewildered Ryoma now considered drastic measures. He would ask Kaishu to secure for him the use of a Tokugawa warship. What he wouldn't tell his mentor, however, was his own resolve to join the Choshu radicals, sail with his men to Osaka, then march into Kyoto to fight against the Bakufu troops there. "Enough is enough," he thought. "The Bakufu has gone too far."
Ryoma called on Kaishu at his home in Edo, where he found the navy commissioner sitting at his desk, peering over some papers. "Ryoma, come in," Kaishu said, folding up a document. "I'm glad you've come. It saves me the trouble of having to send for you."
"Katsu-sensei, the reason I have come is..." Ryoma stammered, "I'd like to ask a favor of you." He felt uncomfortable, despite himself. After all, Kaishu was a retainer of the House of Tokugawa. "Well, what is it?" Kaishu said picking up a round paper fan, and fanning his face. Then changing his tone of voice, "I heard about the slaughter last night. I want you to know that 1 share your indignation."
"I know," Ryoma said with a downward glance.
Kaishu had, in fact, written about the Ikedaya Incident in his diary. "A group of ronin were slaughtered in Kyoto on the fifth of this month; it was the Shinsengumi who killed these innocent men. One of my own students, Tosa samurai Mochizuki (Kameyata) was among those kitted. Choshu is outraged and indignant, and say they will go to Kyoto to reinstate the Seven Banished Nobles...and expel the foreigners from Japan."
"Sensei," Ryoma looked up, speaking loudly now, as if to force himself to say what he must, "I want your permission to take command of a Bakufu
warship."
"We already have two warships in Kobe."
"I mean I'd like your permission to use a ship for purposes other than training."
"What purposes?" Kaishu gave Ryoma a hard look, as if reading his
mind.
"I've decided I must..."
"That's why I wanted to talk to you," Kaishu interrupted. "I want you to return with me to Kobe to make sure that our men don't do anything rash. I've heard reports that the Shinsengumi is looking for ronin around the academy."
"I've heard the same thing."
"Then we must get back there immediately. I don't want any more of our men getting killed." Kaishu paused, sighed deeply. "It's a shame about Kameyata," he groaned. "The academy's close proximity to Kyoto has me worried To be frank with you, Ryoma, if any more of our men should join the radicals in Kyoto, there's a very good chance that we'll lose the academy."
"I see," Ryoma said. Although Ryoma had also considered the same possibility, he was so indignant over the deaths of his comrades that he had temporarily lost his head.
"But 1 know how you feel," Kaishu said "The behavior of the Bakufu is endangering the whole nation. Edo suspects that both Choshu and Satsuma are scheming to usurp power from the Tokugawa. Perhaps that's true, but it still doesn't excuse the fact that most of the men in the government are primarily concerned about their own necks. This is the reason for the unpredictable vacillation on the part of the Bakufu between support of Expelling the Barbarians and Opening the Country. You are entirely right in saying that the House of Tokugawa is solely concerned about its own welfare, but as you know I'm a direct retainer of the Shogun, and the commissioner of his navy. Although it is our mutual duty to save Japan, it is my personal duty to do so without..." Kaishu paused "without completely destroying the Tokugawa."
"But Sensei," Ryoma said indignantly, "if things continue as they are, the barbarians are certain to take advantage of the inner turmoil and subjugate Japan as they did China."
"Again, you are absolutely right, Ryoma. But for now, I need you with me ""Kobe more than ever. You must trust me. I'm always on your side."
"I know, Sensei. I have never doubted you for an instant. "Good." Kaishu smiled warmly. "We sail tomorrow."
At the beginning of July Ryoma and Kaishu arrived in Kobe, where ominous news awaited them. 2,000 Choshu troops, divided into four divisions, had recently sailed into Osaka Bay, and set up camps at four points surrounding Kyoto.
From here Choshu intended to march into the Imperial capital to appeal to the court the innocence of the Lord of Choshu and the Seven Banished Nobles. The Loyalists would also inform the court of their intention to remain in Kyoto "to investigate the activities of the ruffians," which was tantamount to inflicting Heaven's Revenge on their enemies, namely Satsuma and Aizu. If Choshu's appeals were not accepted, then they would attack the Bakufu troops guarding the Imperial Palace, retake the court from which they had been ousted less than a year before, and reinstate the Seven Banished Nobles. This, I Loyalists claimed, was "for the dual purpose of returning Choshu to Imperial grace in order to finally topple the Bakufu, and revenging the slaughter of their comrades at the Ikedaya." Retaking the Imperial Court was tantamount to recapturing the Emperor, as a football team might recover the ball. This achieved, the Choshu side would run with Him to its home turf in Choshu. It was a match between Satsuma-Aizu on one side, and Choshu on the other, to see who could control the Son of Heaven, and in so doing rule the nation.
Despite Ryoma's natural inclinations to side with the Choshu men, he knew them well enough to suspect that they had ulterior motives.
"I seems that you and I are on opposite sides," Kaishu said to Ryoma. "You do, of course, hope that Choshu will win, don't you?" A sardonic grin appeared on Kaishu's face.
"I don't know," Ryoma said. "If Choshu wins this battle, it would only set up its own government, and we'd be no better off than we are now. And besides, that would only make Satsuma an 'Imperial Enemy.' But on the other hand, if Choshu is defeated, and it looks like it will be, then Choshu, instead of Satsuma, will be branded an 'Imperial Enemy.' So, either way we lose." "Who do you mean by 'we'?" Kaishu asked. "Japan."
"How's that?" Kaishu asked, although he knew the answer. "Unless we can somehow get Choshu and Satsuma together," Ryoma spoke slowly, "I'm afraid that Japan will have no future at all." Out of respect for his mentor's official position, Ryoma refrained from saying the obvious: that a Satsuma-Choshu alliance would be vital to overthrowing the Tokugawa Bakufu, the only way to save Japan.
Ryoma's reasoning was well grounded: it was inevitable that the fighting would indeed result in cither Choshu or Satsuma being branded an "Imperial Enemy." Until the previous August Choshu had been the darling of the Emperor, who was not only chronic in his hate for everything foreign but, in his own words, "unhappy with the Bakufu's failure to expel the barbarians. Having obeyed the Imperial decree to attack foreign ships off Shimonoseki, Choshu had gained the Emperor's praise, and replaced Satsuma as Imperial guard.
However, with the coup of the previous summer, Satsuma was restored to its position as guardian of the Imperial Court Satsuma's purpose for supporting a Union of Court and Camp was to regain Imperial grace while maintaining a semblance of friendly relations with the Bakufu, although Satsuma secretly detested the Tokugawa. And while the Bakufu had never mistaken Satsuma’s real intentions, for the time being it shared its would-be rival's desire to crush Choshu.
At any rate, it seemed that a Choshu invasion of Kyoto was imminent. Kusaka's Corps of Loyalty and Bravery was encamped on Mount Tenno, southwest of the city along the Yodogawa river, which connected Kyoto and Osaka. Fukuhara Echigo, a Choshu minister, had led his army into Fushimi, just south of the city. Kijima's unit was encamped at Tenryuji, "Temple of the Heavenly Dragon," in Saga, just northwest of Kyoto. The fourth Choshu division had marched into Hachiman to the east. And the heir to the Choshu daimyo, escorting the Seven Banished Nobles, was en route to Osaka with an additional 2,000 troops.
But the Bakufu forces outnumbered the Choshu Army nearly tenfold. Although the rebel commanders knew that there were now some 50,000 pro-Tokugawa troops on high alert throughout the city, they refused to retreat, but instead prepared their weapons and watched for an opportunity to retake the court. Meanwhile, several Imperial representatives who were secretly sympathetic to Choshu's demands to expel the foreigners urged the court to recognize Choshu. Other nobles, backing Aizu-Satsuma, insisted that yielding to Choshu's demands would only harm Tokugawa prestige, and so weaken the nation. "Resist Choshu now or it will be uncontrollable later." they warned. Lord Yoshinobu of Mito, recently appointed as the Tokugawa's Inspector General of the Forces to Protect the Emperor, proposed that the Bakufu try its best to convince Choshu to retreat, and only resort to fighting if the rebels persisted.
Yoshinobu's views were accepted, and the court issued an Imperial edict stating that the Satsuma-Aizu coup of the previous summer was in complete harmony with the Emperor's will, and that the Choshu troops must withdraw and await further Imperial orders. When the edict reached the Choshu commanders at their camps surrounding the city, they flatly rejected it as "mere treachery by Bakufu and Satsuma traitors" who surrounded the Emperor. The Bakufu then set July 17 as the deadline for the withdrawal of Choshu troops from Kyoto.
"I'm relieved that all of you are here," Ryoma said as he sat in his room at headquarters with his seven closest comrades, determined not to let any of them join what he considered a suicide attack. Sitting opposite Ryoma was his secretary, Mutsu Yonosuke, whom Ryoma had put in charge of the academy during his absence. Next to Yonosuke was Shingu Umanosuke, the peasant's son who had recently taken the name of his native village in Tosa as a surname, and grown a mustache in the style of the foreigners he had seen in Yokohama. The bean jam bun maker's son, Kondo Chojiro, who had been awarded samurai status before abandoning Tosa and becoming a ronin, sat next to Umanosuke. On Ryoma's right were Sawamura Sonojo and Chiya Toranosuke; on his left were Yasuoka Kanema and Takamatsu Tare. All of these men wore sullen faces, and a heavy gloom filled the room.
"Any news, Yonosuke?" Ryoma asked his right-hand man. Despite Yonosuke's razor-sharp wit and gift for rhetoric, Ryoma was painfully aware of the Kii man's inability to hold the group together during his absence. This was partly because of his age (Yonosuke and Kanema, just twenty, were the youngest among the group), partly because he was the only one not from Tosa, but mostly because of the subtle resentment he had aroused for having so readily earned Ryoma's favor.
"Not much that the report Katsu-sensei received hasn't already told us," Yonosuke answered in his typical monotone. "Except that the ran/n-hunters are keeping a close watch on us here in Kobe." Yonosuke paused briefly, and without changing his tone of voice said, "The significance of this has me very worried for Katsu-sensei personally."
Ryoma acknowledged Yonosuke's warning with a silent nod, then reached over and took his nephew's hand. "Taro, what are you going to do?" he asked, feigning his trademark nonchalance. "I'm staying right here with you, of course."
"Of course," Ryoma repeated with a grin. "Then let me ask the rest of you what your intentions are." Ryoma's expression darkened, as he scanned each man with his piercing dark brown eyes. "But before anyone answers, let me say a few more words." Ryoma singled out Kanema with a hard look. "I know that deep inside, every man here would like to join Choshu in Kyoto, as 1 would. But," he exploded, slamming his fist on the floor, "everyone of us here has a very important obligation to carry out before he runs off and die*."
"What could be more important than our obligation as Loyalists?" Kanema said, his eyes opened wide
"Nothing. That's why we must have the guts to remain here in Kobe to fulfill those obligations." Ryoma paused amid the tension in the room, which intensified with each word he spoke. "Our immediate purpose is to study navigation. Isn't that correct?" All but Kanema nodded.
"In order that we can establish a navy of good men, regardless of social class or han, who are dedicated to the development of a new, strong, modem Japan." Again Ryoma singled out Kanema with a hard look. "We can go to die in Kyoto for a losing cause, or we can stay here under Katsu Kaishu and really do something for Japan. The time to rant and rave about expelling the barbarians is over. It ended last summer with the defeat of Choshu and the arrests of the Tosa Loyalists. Now is the time for all of us to work together to accomplish something positive by developing a navy." Ryoma paused to take a deep bream. "Let me ask all of you once more: Is there anyone here who still intends to fight in Kyoto?"
The room was suddenly silent, the only sounds the crashing of the waves against the shore and the shrill of the cicadas in the pines.
"How can you say it's a losing cause?" Sonojo broke the silence. "Word has it that there are some thirty thousand reinforcements on their way right now from Choshu."
"Word has it," Ryoma snickered Sonojo, I know you're not stupid enough to give up everything we have achieved for hearsay." He wiped his sweaty forehead with his sleeve. "Even if it were true, there still wouldn't be enough troops to defeat the entire Tokugawa Army, with Satsuma on its side. Don't you men understand that the time just isn't right? We're simply not prepared to topple the Tokugawa."
"I'm staying," Tora said. He had been struggling with himself for the past several days over this decision. He and Kanema had recently visited Choshu headquarters in Osaka, where they met several men from Tosa who had already joined the Choshu Army, among them Tora's cousins.
Ryoma took firm hold of Tora's wrist. "I know this was a hard decision for you," he said.
"I'm staying too," Umanosuke said, tugging on his mustache.
"So am I," followed Chojiro.
"I'm not about to leave you," Yonosuke said.
"Nor am I," Sonojo said.
Only Kanema remained silent, his eyes burning with conviction. "Sakamoto-san," he began speaking slowly, "although 1 would very much like to stay here with the rest of you, I can't. I must fight with the Loyalists in Kyoto."
Kanema had, in fact, already enlisted with Kusaka's Corps of Loyalty and Bravery on Mount Tenno southwest of Kyoto, and had only returned to Kobe to inform the others of his decision.
"Idiot!" Ryoma flared, then regaining self-control, calmly added, "Kanema, do you want to end up dead like Kame, Kitazoe and the others?"
"That's the very reason I must fight. The Bakufu killed them. I must revenge their murders, and help restore Choshu to Imperial grace."
"Kanema," Ryoma groaned, "I can see in your eyes that there's nothing I can say to stop you. But if you insist on going, do me one favor."
"Of course. Anything."
"Don't get yourself killed." Ryoma paused, shook his head sadly. "And one more thing. Say good-bye to Katsu-sensei. He's in the house next-door."
"I intend to do just that," Kanema said, slowly stood up, thrust his long sword through his sash and left the room.
"Katsu-sensei," Kanema called from the threshold of Kaishu's study The navy commissioner sat solemn-faced at his desk as Kanema told him of his decision to join the Choshu Army in Kyoto. Even after Kanema had finished speaking, Kaishu remained silent, his eyes closed tightly, partly out of concentration, partly to suppress the tears welled up inside. He slowly stood up, walked over to a short wooden chest, and took out a kimono of pure white. "This is a parting gift," he said. "I want you to wear it when you go to die in battle." As Kaishu spoke, his head turned away so that Kanema could only see one side of his face; tears ran down his cheeks, and soon Kanema too was weeping.
After a long silence, Kaishu began speaking again. "When you get to Kyoto, I have a message I want you to give to Kusaka. Tell him that what is right and what is wrong will be decided in heaven. Tell him that he and his men should strive to achieve their purpose as soon as possible." Kaishu paused. "Tell him that's all I have to say." Then taking firm hold of the younger man's wrist, "Be sure to come back here as soon as possible," the Tokugawa Navy commissioner told his disciple who would topple the Edo regime.
Ryoma and the others spent the following weeks doing what they did best: training and preparing themselves to expand their navy, but constantly worrying about the fate of the Loyalists in Kyoto. Then, on July 19, Choshu attacked the Forbidden Gates of the Imperial Palace, in what would be the deathblow to the movement of Imperial Reverence and Expelling the Barbarians.
Of the Choshu Loyalist leaders in Kyoto, only Katsura Kogoro had opposed the attack. Takasugi Shinsaku, who also called for restraint until Choshu could acquire the necessary warships and guns from the West, had recently been released from jail, but was now under house arrest in Hagi Castletown. The other leading Choshu Loyalists, including Kusaka and Kijima, were preparing their troops from their respective encampments surrounding Kyoto to storm the Imperial Palace.
Although Katsura remained adamantly opposed to an attack at this time, he realized that he could no longer restrain his comrades, and so tried in vain to recruit support for Choshu from the Outside Lords of western Honshu, particularly those of Tottori, Okayama and Hiroshima. While all three of these outside clans sympathized with Choshu and the movement for Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism, they also realized that Choshu had no chance of victory, and so feared dangerous repercussions should they openly support Choshu. At dawn on Jury 19, after Katsura bad spent the entire night pleading for support at Tottori headquarters in Kyoto, the first cannon shots thundered through the city, from the direction of the Imperial Palace.
Katsura left Tottori headquarters with eight other Choshu men, and headed for Kamo Shrine, where the Emperor was expected to take refuge during the fighting. "I'm going to make a direct appeal to the Emperor," Katsura told Ms men as they passed through the high outer gate of the shrine, the sharp crackling of rifles and the booming of cannon filling the air. But no matter how long they waited, there was no sign of the Imperial carriage, and after several hours Katsura could no longer detain his men from joining the others in what he knew was suicide.
"We're going to fight with our comrades at the palace gates, they insisted, to die for Imperial Reverence and Expelling the Barbarians."
"Imperial Reverence and Expelling the Barbarians is a lost cause! There is no way we can win today," Katsura had wanted to tell them, but refrained, simply saying, "I'm going to wait here for the Emperor." Katsura, like the others, now realized that me Emperor would not be coming; but, unlike the others, he was determined to live, long enough at least to see the Bakufu destroyed. "I don't have the luxury of dying just yet," he told himself, as can-non boomed from the direction of the Imperial Palace, and clouds of black smoke spread above the northern part of the city.
Katsura stood motionless under the scorching sun. watching the last of his comrades march to their deaths. 'They have no chance," he muttered, as a large crow perched atop the gate above him cawed furiously, as if to torment this lone samurai who refused to die for a losing causing. "Satsuma and Aizu have surely sealed off the palace gates by now," he agonized. "They're armed with superior rifles and cannon, and are probably shooting down our men right now," he cringed, looking up at the crow still cawing from its perch atop the shrine gate. "Am I a coward?" he screamed, momentarily regretting his decision to remain behind, even doubting his own sanity. "Of course not!" he yelled angrily, stooped down to pick up a rock, straightened up and threw it at the crow. "1 only wish I could run off and die like the others," he thought, as the crow continued to caw tormentingly from its perch above. "But 1 must remain here alone, after the battle has been lost, after the Choshu Army has been driven from Kyoto and our han declared an 'Imperial Enemy.' Who else will be here to pick up the pieces after our defeat?" Katsura took another rock from the ground. "Who else will be left to see that the samurai who have died here today don't end up as mere carrion for moral scavengers from Satsuma?" he thought, looking up at the crow. "Choshu will lose this battle, but we will not be defeated," he vowed to himself, took careful aim and hurled the rock. The crow suddenly ceased its furious cawing, and fell to the ground "I can't say I don't envy you," Katsura muttered, kicking the bird's carcass, "or the others who will be fortunate enough to die here today."
The Choshu Army was easily defeated. Although the Choshu fighters were among the toughest in Japan, so too were the samurai of Aizu and Satsuma. While the Matsudaira of Aizu was a direct blood relation of the Tokugawa, the Shimazu of Satsuma had supposedly been subjugated by toe first Tokugawa Shogun, but was actually left quite alone in the remote southwestern-most comer of Japan. This, and a determination to keep their domain strictly closed to outsiders, were perhaps the biggest reasons that the Satsuma samurai retained their warlike qualities throughout the two and a half centuries of Tokugawa peace.
A traditional game among Satsuma samurai displayed their mental fortitude and bravery. A group of young men would form a circle around a rope which hung from the ceiling. At the end of the rope would be tied a loaded musket, so that it was positioned horizontal to the floor. After the men had drank two or three rounds of potent white liquor, one of them would light the matchlock, and spin the musket. The matchlock would soon bum down to the pan, at which time the musket would, of course, fire; and as it would still be spinning, nobody knew in which direction. Nevertheless, the men would continue drinking, literally ignoring the loaded gun which might fire into any one of their chests at any moment. Any man who lost his presence of mind or showed the slightest inkling of fear would be branded a coward in this severe test of nerve.
This it the kind of men that Choshu was up against. Although Kusaka's Corps of Loyalty and Bravery fought as ferociously as its name indicates, it was completely outnumber by the enemy. The other three Choshu divisions never even made it to the palace. The Battle At the Forbidden Gates which had begun at dawn, ended in disaster for Choshu on the same afternoon, as its entire army was forced to retreat, and having been branded an "Imperial Enemy" for firing on the palace gates, returned to Choshu in disgrace. The ill-fated countercoup resulted not only in the end of the movement to expel the foreigners from Japan, but also in the loss of over one hundred Loyalists' lives. Although the actual fighting ended in a matter of hours, Kyoto continued to bum for three days, as much of the city was consumed by flames.
• • *
"Ryoma, come out here quickly!" Kaishu called from the front of his house at Kobe headquarters shortly after sundown on the nineteenth of Jury.
Ryoma rushed out of the barrack next-door, alarmed by the impact of Kaishu's voice. "What is it, Sensei?" "Look!" Kaishu said, pointing toward the northeast. "Kyoto is burning!" "Damn it," Ryoma exclaimed. "Choshu's finally done it!" "My feelings exactly. But we have no time to stand here cursing. I must get to Osaka Castle to find out exactly what's happened. Prepare the Kanko Maru to sail. After I've taken care of business at the castle, I'll send for you to meet me. Until then, stay here."
Kaishu had recently become concerned for the safety of the ronin at his academy, particularly Ryoma's. Since the Ikedaya Incident, the Shinsengumi had been patrolling in and around Kobe. Although Ryoma had done nothing to provoke the authorities in Edo, Kaishu worried for the safety of his right-hand man, whose reputation as leader of dissident ronin had grown among Bakufu circles, both in Edo and Kyoto.
"I'm more worried for your safety, especially now that the fighting has broken out," Ryoma said when Kaishu mentioned his concern.
"I'll be fine. But 1 must say that I am worried what those fools in Edo Castle might be planning. Most of those potato-heads were never happy about my taking you in. They might use the fighting in Kyoto as an excuse to lake action against us." Kaishu had good reason to worry: his naval academy, which the Bakufu was officially sponsoring, was a haven for revolutionary min. And furthermore, two of his students, Kameyata and Kanema, had joined the Choshu rebels.
Upon landing at Osaka, Kaishu reported directly to the Tokugawa stronghold of Osaka Castle, only to find out what he had expected: not a single official in the entire city knew exactly what was happening in Kyoto. Left with no alternative, the navy commissioner took it upon himself to investigate the matter, but first sent word to Ryoma and Tora to meet him at the Teradaya in Fushimi on the morning of August first.
From the Teradaya, the three men traveled northward by riverboat to Kyoto. The city was badly burnt. As they traveled slowly up the Takasegawa, they were struck hard by the damage around them, the effect of which was intensified by the sweltering heat of the early afternoon not a cloud in the crystal blue sky. The fire, having raged for three straight days, had spread five miles from the Imperial Palace in the north to the southern extremities of the city, and over an area of one mile from east to west.
"It looks like Tosa has survived," Ryoma sneered, as they passed beneath Shijo Bridge, Tosa headquarters standing unscathed just beyond them on the left bank of the canal.
"The Hikone estate was saved, too," Tora said with contempt for this close Bakufu ally, whose troops had fought alongside Aizu and Satsuma.
The boat continued up the canal. Soon it passed Sanjo Bridge, and the Toranote Inn, Hanpeita's headquarters during his reign of terror. "I wonder if he's locked up in jail, or even alive," Ryoma agonized silently. Now they could see the black tile roof of the Ikedaya glistening in the sunlight This monument to the slaughter of their comrades had not been touched by the flames, and in spite of himself Ryoma felt a sudden chill in the pit of his stomach. This was the first time he had been in Kyoto since the slaughter two months before. "Kame," he muttered to himself.
"Just as I expected," Kaishu broke the hot silence, "the Choshu estate has been burnt down." Cinders were all that remained of Choshu "s Kyoto headquarters, which for the past four years had also served as headquarters of anti-Bakufu Loyalists in the city.
Soon the canal veered sharply to the right, where it merged with the Kamogawa. Here the three men landed, and went directly to an inn in the Sanbongi district, just three blocks south of the Imperial Palace, at the gates of which the fiercest fighting had taken place.
"I'm going to report to Nijo Castle, to find out exactly what has happened hero," Kaishu said, as the three men sat drinking cool barley tea in a room overlooking the Kamogawa. The air was humid, and on the grassy banks of the river they could see lines of small makeshift shacks built by the townspeople whose houses had been destroyed by the fire.
"Sensei," Ryoma said, "I don't know how to explain it, but I have a strange feeling that Katsura Kogoro is close by."
"Katsura?" Kaishu said, "The Choshu men have fled the city. I seriously doubt he's remained behind."
"I understand, but somehow I can't help but feel that he has." Ryoma took a sip of tea, squinted hard as he stared out the window at the river below, the green mountains looming in the distance. After a short silence, Ryoma said, "If he is here, I think I know where I can find him."
"Where?" Tora asked.
Ryoma stood up without answering.
"Are you going to look for him?" Tora asked,
"I must," Ryoma said. "That is, if you don't have any objections, Sensei," he said, in deference to Kaishu.
"Even if I did, I know I couldn't stop you," Kaishu said. "Do as you will Ryoma. Do as you will."
A lone ronin walked through the front gate of the Yoshidaya inn. "Is anyone here?" he shouted at the doorway. The door slid partially open, and an elderly woman eyed the stranger cautiously, nervously. He was tall, solidly built, and wore a thin black kimono, frayed badly along the lapels, collar and cuffs, the family crest just below both shoulders indiscernible from wear. His faded gray hakama was wrinkled and dusty, and at his left hip was only one sword, as if poverty had compelled him to sell the shorter blade. His hair was unkempt, his sweaty face streaked with grime. "Another ronin" the old woman thought. "Not to be trusted." After all, most of the ronin remaining in Kyoto were desperadoes who would not hesitate to kill to get what little money they could. "Or perhaps this is a Bakufu spy," she thought. "What do you want?" the old woman asked bluntly, frightened.
"My name is Saitani," the ronin said. "Saitani Umetaro, from Tosa." Then, whispering, "I've come to see Katsura Kogoro." "Who's there?" called a woman's voice from the dark corridor. "I'm looking for Katsura," Sakamoto Ryoma, alias Saitani Umetaro, continued to whisper. He had recently taken as an alias the name of his relatives, the proprietors of the Saitani enterprise in Kochi Castletown.
"Oh!" Ikumatsu gasped when she recognized Ryoma. "Come right in," she said in a bushed voice, leading him to a small room at the rear of the house. "Who's there?" came a voice from the other side of the screen door. "It's me," Ikumatsu said. "You have a visitor.'* "Who?"
"Saitani-san," the girl said. With so many houses having been destroyed by the fire, the inn was nearly filled, and Ikumatsu took this precaution, lest one of the guests should overhear her utter the real name of the notorious outlaw from Tosa.
"Saitani?" Katsura said calmly, taking hold of his long sword which he kept within teach at all times. "Come in." The door slid open. "Sakamoto-san," Katsura gasped in relief, albeit in a low, muffled voice. "Ikumatsu, bring sake."
Ryoma entered the room, closing the door behind him. "I'm glad to see you're safe," be whispered, grinning.
"Safe?" Katsura snickered. "With Choshu headquarters burnt down, this is the only place in the entire city where I can hide."
"I know. That's why I came."
"As you probably also know, Choshu has been declared an 'Imperial Enemy,' and all Choshu men have been banned from Kyoto. I can't even go outside without fear of arrest."
"You can't stay here either. Come with me to Kobe."
"No. I must remain in Kyoto to report to Choshu of the situation here."
"Do you have word of the casualties?" Ryoma asked.
"Yes. Ikumatsu's informed me. We lost about one hundred men. Kusaka and Kijima are both dead."
"Kusaka!" Ryoma gasped.
"Yes. They found his body in the grounds of the Takatsukasa mansion near the palace. He fought fiercely at the Sakaicho Gate, but was shot and apparently wounded badly. He died bravely, committing seppuku in the end."
"Damn it!" Ryoma cursed. "You must get away from here. The danger is too great, and Choshu needs you alive. Now more than ever. Please come with me to Kobe."
"I'll leave when the time is right." Katsura paused as he heard footsteps in the corridor. "Ikumatsu," he called out, "is that you?"
"Yes," the girl answered, slid open the door. She held a tray with two flasks of sake and cups.
"I don't feel like drinking now," Ryoma said. "I don't suppose you've heard about one of my men who was fighting under Kusaka's command. His name is Yasuoka Kanema, from Tosa."
"Yes, he's fled to Choshu with the others."
A look of relief covered Ryoma's face. "I think I'll have a drink," he said.
Shortly after, Ryoma got up to leave. "What are you going to do?" Katsura asked.
"I'll return to Kobe."
"Be careful. The streets are crawling with ronin-hunters."
"I'll be with Katsu-sensei. 1 doubt that even the ronin-hunters would try anything with the navy commissioner present."
Ryoma left the Yoshidaya, walked northward up the narrow cobblestone street, empty on this hot August afternoon. He turned left onto the main Marutamachi Road, which extended east and west across the city, along the south side of the Imperial Palace grounds. Homes of court nobles were located just to the north, on the opposite side of the high white earthen wall which stood parallel to the road; beyond them was the palace. Soon Ryoma reached Sakaicho Gate, closed and heavily guarded from within. Here Choshu Loyalists had fired on the Satsuma guard less than two weeks before and it was at this very gate that Kusaka Genzui had been shot. Just beyond were the charred remains of the mansion of the Takatsukasa family of court nobles, where Kusaka had taken his own life. But as entering the Imperial grounds was forbidden, Ryoma simply paused before the gate, his back to the road. "This is Sakamoto Ryoma speaking," he whispered, tears welling up inside his head. "Kusaka-san, if your spirit or those of any of the others that died here can hear me, please listen. I swear on my life that none of you will have died in vain. 1 vow to topple the Tokugawa Bakufu."
"Ryoma," a voice called from behind. Ryoma immediately reached for his sword, and turned around. "Katsu-sensei," he said, relieved.
"Gel in, Ryoma." Kaishu was sitting alone in a palanquin. "I wish you'd be more careful. The Shinsengumi are patrolling this city day and night."
"But I'm with you," Ryoma said, then climbed into the palanquin.
"Yes, you are, Ryoma. By the way, did you see Katsura?"
"Let's just say that he's safe for the time being." Ryoma avoided a direct answer in deference to Kaishu's official post.
"Then he's in Kyoto?"
"Yes."
"And what were you doing in front of the palace gate?" Kaishu asked.
"Promising to pay a debt to an old friend," Ryoma replied, drawing a strange look from his mentor.
"To whom?"
"Kusaka Genzui."
"Kusaka Genzui?"
"Yes. He committed seppuku back there. I just wanted him to know that we'd clean things up for him, that's all."
"Kusaka's dead," Kaishu sighed, slowly shaking his head. "Ryoma," he said in a low, sad voice, "are you going to topple the Bakufu?"
"What?" Ryoma started.
"Are you going to topple the Bakufu?" Kaishu repeated.
"Sensei, out of respect for you..."
"No need to hide your true thoughts," Kaishu interrupted. "The Bakufu has obviously won this battle. But the regime is old. It's been in power for over two and a half centuries. But being a direct retainer of the Shogun, 1 could never fight against him. So, Ryoma, it's up to you to do the job for me."
"Sensei, I..."
"Because if anyone can," Kaishu interrupted again, as if speaking to that part of himself that was also a part of Ryoma, "or should, you're the one."
Out of respect for the great man, Ryoma chose not to answer, and remained silent as the palanquin moved toward the small inn where Tora was waiting.
* * *
It seemed that one disaster always followed another for Choshu. In June, Great Britain, France, Holland and the United States had again informed Edo that unless their ships could be assured safe passage through Shimonoseki Strait they would bombard the Shimonoseki coast. Not only was Edo unable to control Choshu-which at that time had been planning the countercoup in Kyoto-but it secretly welcomed an attack. In fact, the Bakufu had even loaned maps of Japan to France, so that the foreigners could more easily punish the renegade clan.
Six months earlier, Katsura Kogoro's protege, Ito Shunsuke, and another Choshu man, Inoue Monta, had smuggled themselves out of Japan to sail to England, where it was their intention to learn as much about the West as possible, in order to better enable Choshu to expel the foreigners. When Ito and Inoue heard in London of the four nations' planned attack they returned immediately to Japan to ask the British consul in Yokohama for more time to persuade their clansmen of the folly of fighting the Westerners. Preferring diplomacy to war in Japan, the British were happy to oblige, and even provided the Choshu envoys with passage to their home domain.
The efforts of Ito and Inoue, however, were in vain. They returned to Yokohama with a message from their daimyo that he had no choice but to continue carrying out his policy of Expelling the Barbarians, as he had been thus ordered by both the Imperial Court and Bakufu in the previous year. The two Choshu envoys cunningly added that this was the only reason that their han had fired on the foreign ships in the first place, and that it was beyond the power of their daimyo to comply with the foreign demands without permission from Edo and Kyoto.
On the afternoon of August 5, the four-nation fleet, consisting of seventeen warships carrying a combined total of 288 cannon and over 5,000 troops, bombarded the Shimonoseki coast, destroying all the Choshu forts in a single day, before landing to easily overtake the 600 samurai defending the coast. On August 14, a peace treaty was signed between Choshu and the four nations.
Ironically, Choshu's unyielding anti-foreign sentiment led to the downfall of the anti-foreign movement. The completion of the peace treaty silenced once and for all the cries to expel the foreigners for the sake of the Emperor, for by agreeing to its terms Choshu automatically abandoned it xenophobic policy, and so its claim that it alone was the true champion of the Imperial Court. Rattier, from this time on Choshu would focus its energies on one great purpose: toppling the Tokugawa Bakufu. To this end, as Katsura and Takasugi had long ago foreseen, the foreigners, namely Great Britain, would play a crucial role: thus Choshu's sudden change in attitude toward the Westerners, at the expense of the Tokugawa. "Having beaten the Choshu people" Ernest Satow wrote, "we had come to like and respect them, while "g of dislike began to arise in our minds for the Tycoon's (Shogun's) people on account of their weakness and double-dealing, and from this time onwards I sympathized more and more with the daimyo party (Choshu and Satsuma), from whom the Tycoons government had always tried to keep us apart."
And so, by August 1864 Satsuma and Choshu, though bitter enemies, both enjoyed amicable relations with the British, relations which would prove invaluable in the turbulent years ahead. Through actual warfare with the West, these two leaders of the coming revolution finally realized the futility of trying to expel the foreigners by military means, a point which Sakamoto Ryoma had been trying to get across to his Loyalist comrades for the past several years.
If Ryoma and Kaishu were perplexed by the foreign bombardment of Shimonoseki, they were infuriated but not surprised at Edo's decision eight days later to issue a decree to twenty-one han to prepare their armies for a military expedition against Choshu. "Jumping on the bandwagon," Kaishu termed the decree when its news arrived at Kobe headquarters in mid-August. "I'm ashamed," Kaishu told Ryoma, "to represent a regime which would chastise fellow Japanese, when it should come to their aid in the face of foreign invasion. This is truly a disgrace to the nation." Ryoma, however, understood Kaishu's inability to act against Edo, and therefore kept his thoughts about the Bakufu to himself, whenever in the
presence of the great man.
The Bakufu now planned to use Choshu's recent misfortunes, including its present status as "Imperial Enemy," to strengthen its authority, which had been on the wane since the assassination of Ii Naosuke four years earlier, and had been very much in question one year before when Choshu was master of the imperial Court.
But in its attempt to regain its absolute authority of the past, Edo was losing the upper hand it had recently recaptured. First of all, a lack of consensus between the government ministers in Edo and Lord Yoshinobu, Inspector Genera! of the Forces Protecting the Emperor in Kyoto, delayed the expedition against Choshu. Yoshinobu, whose long stay in Kyoto gave him a better understanding of the situation there than that of his counterparts in Edo, took care not to disturb the delicate balance between the court and the various han. The ministers in Edo distrusted Yoshinobu, whom they mistakenly suspected of scheming with the court to wrest control of the political power for himself. Furthermore, some of the daimyo who had been ordered to take pan in the expedition had long sympathized with Choshu. Others preferred solving their own difficult financial straits to waging a costly war, which, if successful, would only strengthen the Bakufu at the expense of their respective domains.
"The Harder You Hit Him, the Louder He Roars"
Satsuma maintained a belligerent attitude toward Choshu. This second largest of all han would play a most important role in the military expedition against Us greatest rival, just as it would in the eventual overthrow of the Bakufu, with the leading part going to the commander in chief of the Satsuma forces, a giant of a man who had come to be known as Saigo the Great.
Despite the bitter hatred between Choshu and Satsuma, Ryoma had not abandoned his hope of somehow uniting the two, no matter how preposterous the notion. As always, Ryoma's deepest sympathies went out to Choshu, but as of late his greatest interests were aroused by Satsuma, which, he had recently heard, was developing its navy by dealing directly with Western traders in Nagasaki. In mid-August 1864 Ryoma visited Kaishu in his study at Kobe headquarters to discuss the very engaging subject of Saigo Kichinosuke.
Kaishu was now concerned about his own personal status in the Edo government. Since the Ikedaya Incident in June, and Choshu's abortive counter-coup in July, harboring known dissidents at his Kobe headquarters had made the navy commissioner less than popular among the officials to whom he now referred openly as "those potato-heads in charge at Edo Castle." "There are several people in Edo who would like to see your naval academy closed down," Commissioner of Foreign Affairs Okubo Ichio had recently warned him. Many in the Bakufu now suspected Kaishu himself of siding with the anti-Bakufu forces. "I'm worried that you might even be arrested," Okubo had said.
"Sensei," Ryoma said, sitting down on the floor opposite Kaishu, "I'd like to ask you to write a letter of introduction for me."
"To who?"
"Saigo Kichinosuke."
Kaishu picked up a round paper fan from his desk, began fanning his face. "Ryoma, I was just about to suggest that you meet Saigo."
"Oh?"
"Yes. 1 hear that Saigo is quite a magnanimous character," Kaishu said, slapping a mosquito on the side of his neck. "But why do you want to meet trim?"
"Because he commanded Satsuma troops against Choshu."
"I see," Kaishu said, a puzzled look on his face. "Ryoma, you're not planning anything foolish, I hope."
"Like cutting Saigo?"
"Yes, like cutting Saigo."
"Senses, I thought you knew that I gave up that kind of behavior a couple years ago when I met you,"
“That's right," Kaishu said with a sardonic grin.
“But, getting back to Saigo..." Ryoma said. . X^' he's been appointed one of the staff officers of the Tokugawa Army m the expedition against Choshu."
"Is that so?" Ryoma said, now slapping a mosquito of his own, but apparently not impressed by Saigo's exalted position.
"He was shot in the leg during the battle against Choshu," Kaishu said. "I've never met him personally, but I'll write a letter and send it to him immediately. You can probably see him at Satsuma's Kyoto headquarters." "Thank you, Sensei. But why do you want me to meet Saigo?" Kaishu gave Ryoma a long, hard look. "Because it seems to me that Satsuma will have a lot of say in national affairs from now on. With its influence in both Kyoto and Edo, not to mention its newly established relations with the British, Satsuma is unquestionably one of the most powerful clans in Japan, if not the most powerful." Kaishu paused, scratched the back of his head. "Ryoma, did you know that Satsuma has recently purchased two warships and about sixty cannon from the British?" "No." Ryoma looked hard at Kaishu.
"And another thing," Kaishu added gravely. "I'm worried about the academy. With the recent events in Kyoto, there is no telling when the Bakufu might close us down." "Close us down!" Ryoma exclaimed.
"Yes. The government apparently doesn't like my choice of students," Kaishu snickered. "And one more thing. Okubo has warned me that the Bakufu might be after my head." "What?" Ryoma started, stood up and grabbed his sword. "Relax, Ryoma. It's just a figure of speech. Where are you going?" To get the others. If the Bakufu is going to take the academy away, then let them. But not one of us is about to let them take you."
"Nobody's going to take me," Kaishu assured. "I'm more worried about my men." "Forget about us," Ryoma said. "You're worth the whole lot of us." "If anything does happen, I want to be sure that you and the rest of the men, particularly those of you from Tosa, have somewhere to turn. And Saigo Kichinosuke, as the commander in chief of the Satsuma Army, has a lot of clout with Lord Hisamitsu." After a short pause Kaishu added, "As a matter of fact, I believe that Saigo is the most powerful man in Satsuma."
Ryoma nodded his head, scratched the back of his sweaty neck. "You say that Satsuma has recently purchased two warships and about sixty cannon from the British?"
"Yes! And Ryoma," Kaishu raised his voice, "Once you meet Saigo, report back to me and tell me what you think of him." "That I'll do," Ryoma said, a dark expression on his face. "We need Saigo on our side, Ryoma. Since the Bakufu doesn't have the power to deal on an equal basis with the foreigners, Japan's only chance now is for the powerful clans of the southwest to unite to strengthen the nation." "That's exactly what I intend to tell Saigo!" Ryoma exclaimed, slapping his knee.
"You can tell him this also: when it comes right down to it, the Bakufu doesn't really intend to launch an expedition against Choshu. It's just putting on airs. If those potato-heads in Edo were really serious about their threats, they wouldn't be delaying like they are now. The truth of the matter is that they can't rally enough support from the clans for a military expedition."
"I hope you're right, Sensei."
"I know I'm right. But the biggest reason I want you to meet Saigo is because of the fact that the very future of Japan depends on men like Saigo Kichinosuke, and you, Sakamoto Ryoma." The Tokugawa Navy commissioner, as wise as Ryoma was aggressive, was already preparing for the fall of the Bakufu, which, he now believed, was not far off. But Kaishu did not lament the impending fall: although he was dedicated to the House of Tokugawa, unlike the "potato-heads in Edo" he had never served the Shogun blindly, but rather always with the future of Japan in mind. And Kaishu was determined to make sure that after the fall, men like Sakamoto Ryoma- whom he had molded with his own hands-and Saigo Kichinosuke would have a significant say in the future of the nation.
Saigo Kichinosuke was born in 1827 in Kagoshima Castletown, the first son of a petty samurai whose annual stipend was barely enough to feed his wife and seven children. At age six, Kichinosuke, like all samurai boys of Satsuma, began his education at a local martial brotherhood, the purpose of which was to keep samurai spirit alive throughout this most martial of clans, by putting boys through Spartan training-morally, physically and scholastically.
The code of conduct for the son of a Satsuma samurai was the strictest in all of Japan. He was not just a member of his immediate family, but a treasure of Satsuma. He would grow up to serve the daimyo, and was merely entrusted to his family in the meantime. Accordingly, he was treated with special deference by his mother and sisters, and was kept separated from girls to ensure that his virility would not be tainted. The Satsuma boy was prohibited from, among other things, carrying money, associating with the merchant class, entering theaters, and going to places where alcohol was
served. Punishment was handed down to errant boys to instill a sense of shame. The lightest punishment-for minor infractions such as whistling in the street, quarreling, or telling a small lie-was to seat the young miscreant in the middle of a room, surrounded by his peers, who would then take turns slapping him in the face, an act more humiliating than painful. For heavier offenses, the boy would be dragged into a yard, where the others would pile on top of him until he became unconscious. For serious offenses, such as drinking or womanizing, the heaviest penalty of ostracism was applied. The guilty boy would be confined to his house for a certain number of days, during which time he was not allowed to associate or communicate with his peers.
There wag no need for a system of capital punishment among Satsuma samurai. If a samurai of this clan was found to have committed ft capital offense, he, as a treasure of his han, was simply ordered by the authorities to return to his home and die, which he inevitably would do, by his own sword. There was never any fear that a samurai thus condemned would try to escape: in a society where ostracism was the ultimate punishment, to die a noble death by seppuku was far preferable to living as a coward in exile. Although this rigid martial system produced the toughest warriors in Japan the tendency of the samurai to look down upon the commoners was stronger in Satsuma than anywhere else.
Not so, however, for Saigo the Great, whose cherished slogan was "Revere heaven, love mankind." At age seventeen, Saigo was appointed to his first official post: assistant to the county magistrate's office in charge of administering the peasants. Having grown up in a poor household himself, Saigo sympathized with the peasants, who suffered under a heavy tax system. (With about 40 percent of its 600,000 inhabitants belonging to the warrior class, Satsuma had one of the highest populations of samurai per capita in Japan. As samurai stipends were taken from the rice yield, the tremendous burden of supporting this unproductive class went to the Satsuma peasants.) Saigo remained at this post for ten years, striving to improve the lot of the peasants, whose affection and respect he would enjoy for the rest of his life.
In 1851, two years before the arrival of Perry, a new daimyo came to power in Satsuma who would change the course of Saigo's life, and indeed greatly influence the history of Japan. This was Shimazu Nariakira, whose succession as the twenty-eighth Lord of Satsuma came only after a long dispute between the progressive and conservative factions in that han. The progressives favored Nariakira, the eldest son of the daimyo; the conservatives supported Nariakira's half-brother, Hisamitsu, a son of the lord's favorite concubine. The Nariakira faction prevailed after direct intervention by the Shogun, to whom Nariakira was related by marriage. Lord Nariakira was a radical reformer who enjoyed close relations with such influential men as Lord Shungaku of Fukui and Lord Nariaki of Mito, and who soon became one of the most respected feudal lords of his time. Like other farsighted men, he realized the need for Japan to import Western culture and technology if it was to avoid being subjugated tike China; he thus set a precedent by modernizing his own domain. He fortified the coastal defenses of Satsuma and put mines in the sea approaches to Kagoshima Castletown. (It was only by luck that the British ships avoided these mines during their bombardment of Kagoshima in 1863.) In 1854, the year after Perry's first appearance, Nariakira convinced the Bakufu to abolish its ban on the building of large ships, and subsequently produced a Western-style sailing vessel which became the first to fly the banner of the Rising Sun. He built Western-style factories and a reverberatory furnace for the production of warships, cannon, rifles and other advanced weaponry. In 1854, only fifteen years after the invention of photography in Europe, Nariakira took the first photographs in Japan with a camera he constructed himself. In 1858, just twelve years after the introduction of telegraphy in Europe, this most innovative of feudal lords set up a simple telegraph system within the precincts of his castle.
Saigo's special bond with Nariakira surpassed the conventional relationship between vassal and lord Nariakira was to Saigo what Kaishu was to Ryoma: not only the "greatest man in Japan," but one who opened doors to the future. Like Kaishu, Nariakira was a firm believer in recruiting men of ability regardless of lineage. Constantly on the lookout for promising young men, he was wise enough to recognize ability when he saw it; although at nearly six feet tall, and over 240 pounds, Saigo Kichinosuke was not easily overlooked. In 1854, Saigo, at age twenty-seven, received direct orders from Lord Nariakira to accompany him on his first attendance at Edo as Lord of Satsuma.
Nariakira never regretted his choice. One day in Edo while discussing the situation of Satsuma with the Lord of Fukui, Nariakira said, "Although the House of Shimazu has a great many vassals, unfortunately there is only one among them whom we can depend upon in such difficult times as these. His name is Saigo. Please remember the name, because he's the greatest treasure we have in Satsuma."
Lord Nariakira's retinue had arrived in Edo in March 1854, the same month that the Bakufu had signed its first foreign treaty with the United States. Although Saigo's official position in Edo was gardener to the daimyo, his real function was to serve as Lord Nariakira's private secretary, in charge of liaison between Satsuma and Mito; for while Nariakira proposed trade with the West, he sympathized with the Imperial Loyalist* of Mito. At Mito's headquarters in Edo, Saigo met regularly with leaders of the early Loyalist movement, and, greatly influenced by them, came to embrace Loyalist sentiments. He reported daily to Nariakira what he had learned from these scholars, particularly the state of national affairs, while his lofty position and magnanimous character made him leader in his own right among the young samurai stationed at Satsuma's Edo headquarters.
In 1858, after returning to Satsuma with Nariakira, Saigo was sent back to Edo to promote the candidacy of Yoshinobu for Shogun. When Yoshinobu's candidacy was doomed with the rise to power of li Naosuke, Saigo returned to Satsuma to report the unfortunate details to Nariakira.
In June 1858, Saigo was sent to Osaka to mingle with the leading Loyalists in the Osaka-Kyoto region and report back to Nariakira on his findings. The next month, however, while in Osaka. Saigo received the news that Lord Nariakira had suddenly died, and crushed to the heart, determined to return to Kagoshima to carry out the ancient practice of self-immolation by a retainer on the death of his lord For the past five years Saigo had worked at Nariakira's beck and call; as everything that he had now become was due to his relationship with his lord, be could see no reason to continue living.
Nevertheless, a Buddhist priest by the name of Gessho, an active Loyalist whom Saigo had befriended in Kyoto, convinced him otherwise. Gessho insisted that it was Saigo's duty to carry on Nariakira's legacy by working to overthrow li Naosuke, and strengthening the nation by uniting Edo and Kyoto. "Death," the Buddhist priest consolingly preached, "will eventually come to us all."
Bearing his great sorrow, Saigo was determined now more than ever to rid the nation of li Naosuke. With other Loyalists from various clans he planned to raise armies in both Kyoto and Edo, march into Hikone, just northwest of Kyoto, and occupy li's castle. The plans, of course, were foiled when li unleashed his Great Purge, forcing Saigo to retreat to Kagoshima with his friend Gessho, who was wanted by the Bakufu as a key dissident in the Loyalist movement.
Although Saigo expected to find protection from li for both himself and Gessho, upon his return to Satsuma he was confronted by internal problems which indicated otherwise. It was rumored that Nariakira had been poisoned, and that his half-brother, Hisamitsu, had masterminded the murder. Although this would never be proven, Saigo believed it, and would consequently loathe Hisamitsu for the rest of his life.
On his deathbed, Lord Nariakira had informed his half-brother that Hisamitsu's son (Nariakira's nephew) would succeed him. But since his heir was only nineteen years old, Nariakira entreated Hisamitsu to "help the young daimyo increase the authority of the Imperial Court, oust li Naosuke and strengthen Japan by uniting Kyoto with Edo." Hisamitsu was only too glad to oblige, as he realized that this would be his chance to assume control of Satsuma, if not in name then in practice.
With Nariakira's death came the rise in power of the conservative factum in Satsuma, and Saigo found that although he personally was safe from arrest, his friend Gessho was not. This was the last straw, or so Saigo had thought. Instead of letting Gessho alone be arrested, and so most certainly executed, Saigo decided that he would die with his friend. He reasoned that since he had invited Gessho to come to Satsuma in the first place, assuring him of refuge there, he must now take the responsibility of dying with this man who had previously persuaded him to live. Also, with the conservatives now in power, the situation in Satsuma was much different than it had been while Nariakira ruled; and the future, Saigo surmised, was bleak.
Late one night in mid-November, Saigo and Gessho boarded a small boat on Kagoshima Bay and headed for the open sea. About one mile from shore they jumped overboard, and the next thing Saigo knew he was being resuscitated by friends who had found him. Gessho, however, had drowned.
The Satsuma authorities were at a loss as how to deal with Saigo. Afraid that li's agents might come to arrest him for having harbored Gessho, they felt obliged to punish him beforehand. But as Saigo had, during his years of service under Nariakira, become a leader of young Satsuma Loyalists, punishing him, they feared, would cause internal problems. To avoid confrontation with Edo on the one hand, and the Satsuma Loyalists on the other, the local authorities proclaimed that Saigo Kichinosuke had drowned, and in January 1859 banished him to an island in the Ryukyus, some 250 miles south of Kagoshima.
During Saigo's banishment, the assassination of li Naosuke brought about political changes on the national scene and within Satsuma, where the reformers ousted the conservatives. The reformers were led by a group of young samurai from the lower ranks, close friends of Saigo who had enjoyed a good deal of power under Nariakira's rule. The crafty Hisamitsu saw the chance to assure his grip on the government and strengthen Satsuma's position on the national scene, by allying himself with the reformers, who. being Loyalists, enjoyed influence in radical circles in Kyoto. The time was ripe, Hisamitsu reasoned, to realize Nariakira's plans to unite the Bakufu with the court. Having sent envoys to negotiate for him in Edo and Kyoto, Hisamitsu now planned to lead an army of 1,000 troops, first into Kyoto then further east into Edo, to urge the Bakufu to reform itself, and to unite with the court. To carry out his plans, however, he needed the assistance of the overwhelmingly popular Saigo Kichinosuke, and in December 1861 sent orders for the Loyalist leader's return after three years in exile.
Saigo, however, was much too headstrong for the de facto daimyo to handle. When Hisamitsu discussed with Saigo his plan to march into Kyoto and unite the court with the Bakufu, Saigo told him frankly, "You're simply not capable of doing it. The only one who could have done it is Lord Nariakira." Needless to say, Hisamitsu became infuriated, at which time Saigo turned his back to the daimyo, and muttered just loud enough to be heard, "You country bumpkin," Such was the pluck of Saigo Kichinosuke.
By this time, Saigo opposed a Union of Court and Camp, but rather was intent on "expelling the barbarians for the sake of the Emperor." In the following March he went alone to Shimonoseki with orders to wait there for Hisamitsu, who soon after would sail from Kagoshima with his army. At Shimonoseki. Saigo met with the leaders of the Loyalist movement in Choshu, who persuaded him to go immediately to Kyoto-Osaka to raise an army to squelch the plan for a Union of Court and Camp. Saigo left Shimonoseki in blatant defiance of Lord Hisamitsu's orders, determined to destroy the possibility for the very union which the daimyo had been striving to achieve.
Hisamitsu was furious when he arrived at Shimonoseki only to find that Saigo had disobeyed his orders, He feared that Saigo's arbitrary actions would endanger his plans for a Union of Court and Camp, and determined to stop him, proceeded with his army to Osaka. Upon his arrival at his Osaka headquarters, Hisamitsu ordered Saigo to return to Kagoshima, and arranged for his immediate exile.
While exile may very well have saved Saigo's life by keeping him away from toe subsequent slaughter at the Teradaya, he was not to return to Kagoshima for another two years, when Hisamitsu again required his services.
Despite Choshu's first defeat in Kyoto in August 1863, Hisamitsu realized that his former plan for a Union of Court and Camp was gradually losing out to the movement of Toppling the Bakufu and imperial Loyalism. Accordingly, in order to maintain Satsuma's position of leadership in Kyoto, which it had regained with the expulsion of Choshu, he cunningly reshuffled
the government of his domain, replacing the conservatives who had been responsible for the recent victory in Kyoto with Loyalists from the lower ranks of whom the exiled Saigo Kichinosuke was the undisputed leader. In the following February Saigo was again returned from exile, and in March was dispatched Jo Kyoto as commander in chief of the Satsuma forces. At age thirty-six, Saigo Kichinosuke was now a full-fledged leader of Satsuma, returned in triumph from an unjust banishment, and the champion of every Satsuma man who would fight to overthrow the Tokugawa Bakufu.
After the Ikedaya Incident in June, Saigo urged Hisamitsu to refuse Bakufu orders to drive Choshu out of Kyoto. "Satsuma's first duty," he insisted, "is to carry out our late Lord Nariakira's will of guarding the Imperial Palace, and, for the time being, nothing more. This war is between Aizu and Choshu. Sending troops with Aizu to fight against Choshu would only serve to increase the animosity that Choshu already has for Satsuma. We have nothing to gain from fighting at this time."
But when Choshu attacked the Imperial Palace, Saigo, as the commander in chief of Satsuma forces in Kyoto, had no choice but to fight, although he did so not in obedience to the Tokugawa, but rather in response to an Imperial request
Saigo the Great, however, had not yet realized that he was fighting a losing battle, ft would take one meeting with Katsu Kaishu, proceeded by the special efforts of Sakamoto Ryoma, to awaken him.
* " *
Ryoma arrived at the outer gate of the heavily guarded Satsuma estate in Kyoto's district of the Two Pines on a blazing hot afternoon in mid-August. As usual, his clothes were soiled and badly worn, his hair unkempt, and he was armed with only one sword, "Sakamoto-san," Yonosuke had said to him recently, "the two swords are the soul of the samurai," to which Ryoma snickered, "I don't know about you, but my soul is no more trapped in my sword than it is up my ass. I only carry it for protection, and one sword is enough."
"I've come to see Saigo-san," Ryoma told the guards at the gate, with the cocksureness of a man who was calling on his best friend.
"Who are you?" a guard demanded.
"Sakamoto Ryoma," the outlaw replied brusquely.
By the summer of 1864 there were few, if any, men in Kyoto who did not know the name. "Saigo has been waiting for you," the guard said, before escorting Ryoma to the main hall of the estate. Here Ryoma removed his straw sandals, stepped up onto the polished wooden floor, and was led into a spacious room in the back of the hall. The room faced an immaculately landscaped garden; on one side of the garden was a well, cm the other a big shaddock tree, its yellow fruit, though out of season, hanging heavily on the leafy branches. Although the sliding doors were open wide, as there was no breeze, the room was hot, and the well water and ripe yellow shaddock particularly inviting.
"Please sit down," the guard said. "I'll tell Saigo you're waiting."
Left alone, Ryoma stepped outside onto the wooden verandah, and although barefoot, down into the garden to get a drink from the well. The water was so refreshing, however, that instead of simply drinking it, he poured several bucketsful over his head, then went to the shaddock tree. He took a piece of the citrus fruit, and just as he finished peeling away the thick, loose rind, dropping it to the ground, a loud baritone voice called from the verandah, "So you like shaddock, do you?"
Ryoma looked ridiculous-his hair dripping wet, a grin on his face-as he put a segment of the fruit into his mouth. "So you like shaddock, do you?" Saigo repeated. Despite the heat, the huge man was dressed formally in a hakama and black crepe jacket, displaying the Saigo family crest of a horse's bridle. His two swords hung from his sash at his left hip, his full head of hair was tied neatly in a topknot. Although Ryoma, being badly nearsighted, could not make out the face from where he stood, he could see clearly Saigo's imposing figure-the broad shoulders, thick neck, big belly, wide forehead, bushy eyebrows and ridiculously oversized ears.
"I'm Sakamoto Ryoma, from Tosa," Ryoma finally spoke, then stuffed another piece of the yellow citrus fruit into his mouth. "Never had shaddock during summer," he said grinning, then devoured another piece.
"So this is Katsu Kaishu's right-hand man," Saigo thought ironically to himself. "You should see the shaddock we grow in Kagoshima," he said. "About this big." The huge man put his hands together to form a globe.
"We get bigger one's back in Kochi," Ryoma drawled, squinting to get a better look at the man on the verandah. While this historical first meeting between two leaders in the revolution to overthrow the Tokugawa Bakufu was certainly more momentous than eating shaddock in August, all they could talk about at the outset of the encounter was the size of the fruit.
Ryoma wiped his bare feet on the legs of his hakama, then stepped up onto the verandah "So this is the great Satsuma commander," he thought to himself. "With such a stupid face, he sure could have fooled me."
Saigo looked hard at Ryoma through large, piercing dark eyes, thinking similar thoughts. "Katsu Kaishu sends his regards," Ryoma said after an awkward silence. "Please sit down", Saigo said.
Ryoma sat on the tatami floor opposite Saigo. As both men were taciturn by nature, they had trouble starting a conversation. Fortunately, however, Ryoma's innocent smile got the better of Saigo, who immediately took a liking to him. "Sakamoto-san, I'm sure that you have a lot of friends in Choshu, and that there were quite a number of Tosa men fighting with Choshu against us in Kyoto, but please don't misunderstand Satsuma's position."
If it hadn't been for the sincerity in Saigo's eyes, which sparkled like big black diamonds when he spoke, principle might have compelled Ryoma to either leave the room or draw his sword. "Are you telling me to understand why Satsuma supports the Bakufu?" Ryoma said, no longer smiling.
Saigo broke out in a deep belly laughter. "I must say, I feel much more at ease discussing the matter with you than I did recently with another Tosa man.
"Who's that?"
"Nakaoka Shintaro." Nakaoka, who had fled to Choshu just before the arrest of his fellow Loyalists, had served as an officer in the Choshu Army during the countercoup in Kyoto. After Choshu's defeat and the Loyalists' retreat, Nakaoka remained behind to, as he said, "cut down that traitor Saigo." "And I must say," Saigo said with amused reverence, "he has a lot of guts. You should have seen the gunshot wound on his leg when he came looking for me at our camp. But it didn't seem to bother him, or at least he didn't let on that it did."
"I've heard you were wounded also," Ryoma said.
"That was nothing," Saigo lied. "When my men brought Nakaoka to our camp, I must have had about twenty or thirty guards around me. But he didn't seem to care about that either." Saigo paused, began laughing again. "You should have seen the look in his eyes. He was like a mad dog."
"What did he say?" Ryoma asked.
"Something similar to what you just said. He asked me why Satsuma supports the Bakufu. As he spoke, I was sure that he would draw his sword, in spite of all those guards around us."
"Yes, Nakaoka is as radical as the men of Choshu," Ryoma said. "But as you know, Choshu is extremely popular among the people in Kyoto, even now. It acts rashly, but that's the kind of behavior you need for a revolution."
"A revolution," Saigo repeated with his eyes wide open. "Sakamoto-san, let me ask you something."
Ryoma simply nodded.
"What are your personal feelings about Satsuma?"
"You know as well as I do that Satsuma is not very well liked by anyone but its own people."
"And we're particularly unpopular in Kyoto for having fought against Choshu," Saigo added, obviously troubled over Satsuma's bad reputation.
"Even though Choshu attacked the palace gates, the people still know that Choshu men will remain loyal to the Emperor to the bitter end," Ryoma said, a hard look in his eyes. Then suddenly a wide grin appeared on his face; the spectacle of the huge man in front of him with the expression of a child being scolded amused him. "It's common knowledge, Saigo-san."
"Then, I'd like to personally invite you to Kagoshima," Saigo said.
"1 tried to get into Satsuma about two years ago, but they wouldn't let me across the border."
"If you're with me they will," the great man assured.
"Yes, I'm sure they will," Ryoma said, slapping his knee.
"Then it's settled."
"Yes, it's settled," Ryoma said, before adding, "I can't help siding with both Choshu and Satsuma."
"I don't understand," Saigo said, confused.
Lowering his voice, Ryoma said, "If Satsuma and Choshu were to join forces, nothing could stop them from overthrowing the Bakufu." An uncomfortably long silence followed, before Ryoma continued: "And I do believe that that's what you're aiming for, despite Satsuma's alliance with Aizu."
Saigo's expression suddenly grew dark, his eyes severe. "Choshu is an 'Imperial Enemy,'" he said.
"Don't give me that," Ryoma said with a look of disgust.
"Choshu fired on the gates of the Imperial Palace."
"You know as well as I do that Choshu was forced into it. The Choshu men will stop at nothing, even suicide, to overthrow the Bakufu and restore the Emperor to power."
Again Saigo's expression was that of a child being scolded, and Ryoma burst out laughing. "This is no laughing matter," Saigo protested, obviously upset. The good man was extremely sensitive about Satsuma's bad reputation, and was well aware that, beside his own people, the only party happy about Choshu's defeat was the Bakufu itself.
"The reason I laugh is because the situation calls for laughter," Ryoma said.
"You speak in riddles, Sakamoto-san."
"Does Satsuma intend to attack Choshu?" Ryoma asked suddenly, staring hard into Saigo's eyes. "Because that's exactly what the Bakufu is hoping for."
Saigo returned Ryoma's hard gaze, but before he could answer, Ryoma changed the subject. "I'm looking forward to visiting Satsuma," he said.
"You're welcome anytime." Saigo was relieved that this ronin, if nobody else, seemed to harbor a certain degree of goodwill toward his hart. "But why are you so interested in visiting Satsuma?"
"Because I'm interested in Japan, and I truly believe that a Satsuma-Choshu alliance is the key to the future of our nation."
Saigo stared silently at Ryoma, then said, "That depends on Choshu."
"And Satsuma," Ryoma insisted, then stood up abruptly. "I have to go now," he said, before thanking Saigo for the meeting and taking his leave. Ryoma had accomplished his initial purpose: to plant the seeds of the concept of a Satsuma-Choshu alliance in Saigo's mind. Now, he reasoned, it would be best to let the seeds lake root, then cultivate them in the near future.
The men parted as friends, and this first meeting between them was obviously a success-obvious, that is, to Ryoma and Saigo. Kaishu, however, was waiting impatiently at Kobe headquarters for Ryoma's return, anxious to hear his evaluation of the powerful Satsuma commander. But when Ryoma returned he neither mentioned the meeting nor the man. Several days passed, and still no word from Ryoma about Saigo. Finally, Kaishu, unable to wait any longer, went to Ryoma's room late one night.
"Ryoma, what did you think about Saigo?" he asked.
"Saigo is a very hard man to understand," Ryoma said. "If you were to compare him to a large bell, you might say the softer you hit him, the softer he roars; the harder you hit him, the louder he roars. When he's stupid, he's very stupid; but when he's clever, he's very clever. But unfortunately the hammer hitting him was much too small." By the "hammer," Ryoma meant himself, and Kaishu wasn't sure whether Ryoma was praising Saigo or calling him a fool.
While Kaishu was constantly amazed at Ryoma's uncanny sense of timing, it was his own ability to foresee danger which prevented temporary hardship from turning into disaster for Ryoma and the other Tosa men. As Kaishu had predicted, the "potato-heads in Edo" did suspect that he shared anti-Bakufu sentiment with the Loyalists at his naval academy. It was for this very reason that in mid-September, when the Bakufu began investigations into the backgrounds of his students, the Tokugawa Navy commissioner himself paid a visit to the commander in chief of Satsuma. Then, in late October, Kaishu was ordered to return to Edo, and his Kobe academy was closed down.
"I want you all to know that I've discussed your predicament with Saigo Kichinosuke of Satsuma," Kaishu informed Ryoma and the others. "He has promised me to do all he can to assure that you will be safe after I've gone, and that the navigational skills you have acquired here will be put to good use."
"But Saigo was the man most responsible for Choshu's defeat," Sonojo said bitterly. "Saigo's on our side," Ryoma cut in sharply, silencing Sonojo. Upon his return to Edo, Kaishu was dismissed from his post as navy commissioner, placed under house arrest, and, with his generous stipend reduced to a bare minimum, his academy in Kobe was completely disbanded.
As for Ryoma and his comrades, everything they had achieved over the past two years under Kaishu seemed to have been lost. Not only did Ryoma's dreams of a navy, which he had come so close to realizing, appear shattered, but having lost the support of "the greatest man in Japan," he and his men were now without income or a place of refuge, and so in danger of arrest by Tokugawa and Tosa agents.
But the years Ryoma had spent with Kaishu prepared him for the all-important struggle ahead: his vow to "clean up Japan once and for all." Not only had the navy commissioner taught him a great deal about operating a steamship-knowledge which would be essential when he would establish his private navy and shipping company-but through Kaishu, Ryoma had achieved close relations with some of the most influential men in the Bakufu, men who implanted in his mind the necessity of establishing a republican form of government among the powerful clans. Thanks to his relationship with the Group of Four, his newfound friendship with Saigo, and his special camaraderie with the Choshu radicals, the outlaw now had a political base by which to unite the nation, establish a navy, overthrow the Bakufu, and strengthen Japan through international trade. Surely, Ryoma was now in a much better position to realize these goals than he had been two years earlier when he had convinced Chiba Jutaro of his intentions to kill the navy commissioner. But for the time being, with the loss of Kaishu's support and the naval academy, his whole world seemed to have suddenly collapsed.
While a dark cloud had indeed fallen over Ryoma, he repeated to himself over and over his vows "to keep my nose to the ground, like a clam in the mud" in order to "clean up Japan once and for all," as he fretted painfully about the future.
Part III
A Declaration of Freedom
The Road to Revolution
"A Tosa man attached to Katsu in Kobe is anxious to borrow a foreign-style ship and operate it. His name is Sakamoto Ryoma. Another man from the same han, Takamatsu Taro, has come too. It seems that just now the political situation in Tosa is so bad, and that they are carrying on in such an extreme manner there, that these men would lose their lives if they went back. It is true that even if a ship was available it would be some trouble to hide this man until he can board; but since Saigo and others who are in Kyoto have talked it over and think it would be a good idea to make use of this ronin in sailing, we are putting him up in the Osaka residence."
The above letter, dated November 26,1864, was written, at Kaishu's request, by Satsuma Councilor Komatsu Tatewaki to Okubo Ichizo, another leading Satsuma Loyalist who, like Komatsu, was a close friend of Saigo's. Although Ryoma and his men had lost Kaishu's support, they now at least had a place to bide from the Bakufu police, and the possibility of using a Satsuma ship to begin the shipping business they had long planned. But while they spent the following winter out of harm's way at Satsuma's headquarters in Osaka, national politics underwent some very significant changes.
Although by mid-November the Bakufu had massed some 150,000 troops at the Choshu borders awaiting the command to attack, the expedition was not yet to be launched. Since the failed countercoup in Kyoto the previous summer, followed by the bombardment of Shimonoseki by the combined fleets of four foreign powers, Choshu had split into two factions. The conservative Common Party blamed the radical Righteous Party for the great losses the han had suffered over the previous summer, not the least of which was Choshu's having been branded an "Imperial Enemy." The conservatives favored "pledging allegiance to the Bakufu" at any cost in order to preserve the ruling House of Mori. The Loyalists, meanwhile, called for "military preparation to fight the Bakufu." But with the death of the movement for Imperial Reverence and Expelling the Barbarians, the conservatives, for the time being, had gained the upper hand.
Is Satsuma, Saigo had undergone a change of heart concerning his clan's relationships with both Choshu and Edo. Saigo, whose position as staff officer in Edo's expeditionary forces against Choshu put him in command of the troops of twenty-three han, no longer thought it necessary to crush Choshu. Rather, he realized that the mere presence of this most radical of clans was a constant menace to the Tokugawa, which served to neutralize Edo's authority. Using the internal discord in Choshu, Saigo was able to arrive at a compromise with the Choshu conservatives that the Bakufu could swallow, avoid a costly war for all concerned, and even save face for the Choshu daimyo. Braving the very real possibility of assassination, Saigo personally went to Shimonoseki to present Choshu with four conditions by which war could be avoided, the boldness of which earned him the respect of allies and foes alike. First, the Lord of Choshu would send a letter of apology to the Bakufu for his "criminal attack on the Imperial capital." Second, the three Choshu ministers officially responsible for the attack would be ordered to commit seppuku, and their four staff commanders executed. (Since the other Loyalist leaders responsible for the attack had died in battle, this was considered sufficient. The Bakufu representatives did, however, demand to know the whereabouts of two other important Loyalist leaders: Katsura Kogoro and Takasugi Shinsaku. The Choshu representative negotiating with Saigo denied any knowledge of their whereabouts, but actually be was well aware where both men were hiding: Katsura had fled to the island of Tsushima shortly after Choshu's defeat; Takasugi, forced into hiding to avoid assassination by die-hard xenophobes for his role in treaty negotiations with the foreigners, was now at the home of a woman Loyalist in northern Kyushu.) Saigo's third condition called for the destruction of all fortresses at Yamaguchi Castle. (Yamaguchi, located inland about a day's journey from Hagi, was the secondary castle of the Lord or Choshu, and the center of the government when it was under Loyalist control.) Lastly, it was insisted that the Five Banished Nobles (one of the original seven had died, another joined the Loyalist uprising) be moved from Choshu to another domain, as a sign of atonement by the daimyo for having sheltered them in the first place. With 150,000 enemy troops massed at the borders of his domain, the Choshu daimyo accepted Saigo's conditions and war was avoided, but the Choshu Loyalists bitterly opposed the compromise.
The Bakufu, however, gained little in prestige from Choshu's capitulation. As Kaishu had told Saigo, Edo was no longer powerful enough to govern Japan, and ironically, while Saigo was basking in his newfound glory Tokugawa authority continued to wane, as if absorbed by the powerful commander of the Satsuma Army.
Nevertheless, most of the "potato-heads in Edo" continued to believe that the Bakufu still wielded the power to control Japan. They were, of course, greatly mistaken. Perhaps the most vivid example of the deterioration of Edo's authority was its attempt in the previous September to reinstate the centuries-old Law of Alternate Attendance in Edo, which had been abolished two years before. Having crushed the Loyalists in Kyoto, the Bakufu was under the false impression that it had regained its past power, and when it issued an order for the wives and heirs of all the daimyo in Japan to return to their residences in Edo, the order was simply ignored, and the Bakufu was left with no choice but to back off.
As the Bakufu continued to deteriorate so did the Choshu conservatives, while the Loyalists prepared to regain power. The most radical among the Loyalists, now that Kusaka and Kijima were dead, was the twenty-five-year-old Takasugi Shinsaku, who was born for nothing if not revolution.
While Katsura Kogoro was the most scrupulous of the Choshu revolutionary leaders, Takasugi was certainly the most dynamic. His explosiveness notwithstanding, Takasugi shared Katsura's uncanny ability to stay out of harm's way, although he was not the escape artist that Katsura was. Neither man had attended the ill-fated gathering at the Ikedaya inn, nor fought in the countercoup in Kyoto. But unlike Katsura, who was in Kyoto during both events, Takasugi had throughout that time been under house arrest in Hagi, nominal punishment for having left Choshu without official permission. After the bombardment of Shimonoseki by the combined foreign fleets, during which time Takasugi was still confined to his home, the previously ardent xenophobe was recalled to negotiate a treaty with the foreigners, the success of which behooved him to go into exile across Shimonoseki Strait to avoid assassination.
After Choshu's capitulation in November, Takasugi returned from hiding, and it was from this point on that he deviated completely from the discrete revolutionary tactics which he had previously shared with Katsura. Nakaoka Shintaro's evaluation of the two Choshu leaders clearly sums up their differences: "Courage, knowledge, discretion, and the ability to hold his own in discussions even at court describes Choshu's Katsura Kogoro. Courage and resourcefulness, the abilities to face an enemy without wavering, move when opportunity strikes, and v by extraordinary means describes Takasugi Shinsaku."
Determined to crush the conservatives as the Loyalists' last chance to regain power and stand up against the Bakufu, Takasugi proceeded to raise an army. Before the snowy dawn of December 16, with less than eighty men, he invaded the Choshu government offices in Shimonoseki, where he set up his base of operation against the conservatives. Having met little resistance, Takasugi's rebels seized guns, ammunition, food, gold and other supplies, before marching eastward into the Port of Mitajiri on the Inland Sea. Here they captured three Choshu warships to anchor offshore of Shimonoseki as floating forts to be used against the conservative troops who would come by land.
Takasugi's great risk-not only to his own life and the lives of his men, but to the entire Loyalist movement-cannot be overemphasized Had he failed-and with Bakufu troops still surrounding Choshu he may very well have-the odds are that Choshu would have continued indefinitely under conservative rule, instead of playing its all-important role in the impending revolution. The Bakufu troops, however, chose not to intervene in Choshu's domestic trouble, reasoning that the rebels were far too few to represent a significant threat. And, indeed they were!
But Takasugi was confident that if even only a small band of men would stand up and fight at this crucial lime, then surely the other Loyalist militias in Choshu would join them in "the righteous cause to overthrow the evil Bakufu, to which the 'common' forces have shamefully surrendered."
Takasugi's intuition proved correct. By the New Year of 1865, the first year of the Era of Keio, his rebel army had swelled to 3,000 strong, and on January 3 marched northeast from Shimonoseki toward Hagi on the Sea o Japan to crush the conservatives. By mid-January the rebels had driven the government troops all the way back to Hagi, where they pounded them from the rear with cannon fire from the warships they had captured earlier.
After one month of fighting, the rebels were victorious in a coup d'etat which would prove to be a turning point in their struggle to overthrow the Bakufu, and greatly influence the subsequent history of Asia. Soon the daimyo returned from Hagi to the rebel stronghold at Yamaguchi, and thereafter Choshu received its direction from the revolutionary commander Takasugi Shinsaku and his rebels, who now declared war on the Edo regime.
February had come and Ryoma was still at Satsuma headquarters in Osaka, waiting for Saigo to return. He had two pressing matters to discuss with the Satsuma commander securing the loan of a Satsuma ship, and the necessity of a Satsuma-Choshu alliance. Even some of his own men, who rarely questioned his judgment, thought it strange that Ryoma should be content simply waiting for Saigo's return while other Tosa men like Nakaoka Shintaro were risking their lives running between Kyoto and Choshu, working for the Loyalists and the Five Banished Nobles against the Bakufu.
"What Shinta is doing is important," Ryoma told Yonosuke.
"Then shouldn't we go to Choshu to help?"
"No," Ryoma said bluntly.
"But you yourself have always said that things are never accomplished without action."
"Exactly. And in order for us to act we need a ship. I'm not leaving here until I have a chance to talk with Saigo about getting one."
"Then what about overthrowing the Bakufu?"
"Yonosuke," Ryoma groaned, "I thought that you, of all people, understood. The time is just not right for us to go to war against the Bakufu. And k won't be right until the boil is ready to burst. Like I've told you before, we must prepare ourselves. In other words, we need warships. Hanpeita never understood this, nor did a lot of other men who are either dead or in jail."
One snowy morning in February Ryoma paid a visit to the Osaka residence of Okubo Ichio, who until recently had been serving in the powerful post of the Bakufu's commissioner of finance. Passing through the front gate of Okubo house, located at the edge of the moat near Osaka Castle, Ryoma felt a feeling of dread in the pit of his stomach. His main purpose for the visit was to inquire about the circumstances of Katsu Kaishu, whom he had not heard from since Kaishu was recalled to Edo in the previous November. The servant who greeted Ryoma at the door recognized him, and immediately led him to the study, where Okubo was sitting at his desk near a brazier of burning charcoal. He wore a short light blue jacket of heavy silk cloth, his graying hair oiled and tied neatly into a topknot; the lines on his pale face were more pronounced than Ryoma had remembered, scars from the turbulent times it had been the fate of this enlightened thinker to inherit.
"Welcome, Ryoma," Okubo said, receiving the outlaw warmly. Although he knew that Ryoma was intent on overthrowing the Bakufu, he shared his concern for the overall welfare of Japan, and indeed had enlightened Ryoma as to his own ideas for establishing a republican form of government. "Bring hot sake," he told the servant.
Ryoma removed his sword, leaned it against the wall in the alcove, took a seat near the brazier. "I've come to inquire about Katsu-sensei," he said. Ryoma was more indignant than ever with the "potato-heads in Edo," who were not only too ignorant to recognize Kaishu's brilliance, but so impertinent as to force him out of office, and even punish him.
"Katsu is still under house arrest at his home in Edo, and is being investigated. That's all I know." Okubo shook his head slowly, warming his hands over the brazier. "But I have something else to tell you. I've been dismissed from my post as commissioner of finance, and recalled to Edo myself."
"Why?” Ryoma exclaimed.
"For the same reasons that Katsu was recalled, I suppose."
"What are those reasons?"
"That's what I'd like to know," Okubo sighed, "Katsu was recalled ostensibly for harboring you and your men, and for allegedly being in cahoots with the Choshu radicals, which is the most ridiculous thing I've ever heard. I suspect that petty jealousy for his brilliance was the main reason for his punishment"
"When are those idiots in Edo going to realize that you and Katsu-sensei are the only men of any worth in the whole damn government?"
"Ah, yes, Ryoma. My feelings exactly. But I wish you'd keep your voice down."
"Of course," Ryoma said, glancing around the study, as the servant appeared with two large flasks of hot sake. "Then you do agree with me that there is nothing more useless in this world, and more harmful to Japan, than the Tokugawa Bakufu," Ryoma said.
Okubo cleared his throat, gave the outlaw a long, hard look. "Ryoma, I understand how you feel. But please remember that I am a direct retainer of the Shogun." He filled a sake cup, which Ryoma drained immediately, then said, "That's what Katsu-sensei has always said, and look at what those idiots have done to him. In all due respect to you, the Bakufu must be toppled."
"I understand your feelings, Ryoma." Unable to propose an argument, Okubo refilled Ryoma's cup, then asked, "What do you think about the situation of Choshu?"
"We're still not ready," Ryoma said bluntly.
"Ready?" Okubo asked with a puzzled look.
"Yes," Ryoma paused, stared hard at this brilliant Tokugawa official. "I'm going to get Choshu and Satsuma together. Then we'll be ready."
"Ready for what?" "To topple the Bakufu."
"Choshu and Satsuma?" Okubo said incredulously. Ryoma's words were indeed incredible, and it was for this very reason that he felt safe divulging his plans to a Tokugawa official. Choshu would no sooner unite with Satsuma than it would with the Bakufu. Choshu loathed Satsuma, perhaps even more than it did the Tokugawa. Hadn't Satsuma joined hands with Edo to improve its own position in Kyoto? Hadn't it been Satsuma which was most responsible for Choshu's original fall in Kyoto in 1863? Again it was Satsuma who united with the most powerful of the Tokugawa-related domains, Aizu, to defeat Choshu the following year. Then just a few months later, after Choshu had been attacked by the combined foreign fleets, Satsuma had jumped on the bandwagon, with Saigo as staff officer, in the expedition against Choshu, that had only been postponed when the Choshu conservatives agreed to surrender. Saigo's complete distrust for Choshu, on the other hand, was representative of all Satsuma samurai. Near die end of the previous year, Saigo had written to the powerful secretary to the Lord of Satsuma, Okubo Ichizo, that Choshu must be crushed, so that it can never rise again. "Otherwise," Saigo warned, "it will surely cause disaster for our hart in the future." But since his meeting with Kaishu, Saigo had reconsidered his clan's relationship with Choshu, and this Ryoma knew. (Although Ryoma did tell Okubo of his hopes to unite Satsuma and Choshu, he wisely chose not to impart Saigo's apparent change of heart; for although Okubo was indeed a trusted member of Kaishu's Group of Four, he was nevertheless a direct retainer of the Shogun.)
"Yes, Choshu and Satsuma," Ryoma repeated, as if possessed by me idea of an alliance. He had long been friends with the Choshu men; notwithstanding their explosive nature, he understood as well as anyone their suffering and their pure dedication to Imperial Loyalism. And having spent the past winter at Satsuma's headquarters in Osaka, Ryoma had developed a mutual understanding and friendship with the men of that han. "Once I get them together, the Bakufu can send all of its forces against Choshu, but it will lose," Ryoma said. "Ryoma," Okubo raised his voice, "have you ever heard the name Oguri Tadamasa?"
"No."
"Then listen to what 1 have to say, because not only was it Oguri who had Katsu dismissed, but he is now trying to get me French to sponsor the Bakufu, in order to crush not only Choshu, but Satsuma, and if possible even Tosa and Fukui."
"The French?" Ryoma exclaimed. "Crush Satsuma, Tosa and Fukui? Tell me some more about Oguri," he said, taking the flask and pouring himself a drink.
Okubo released a heavy sigh. "First, there is one other thing that you should know, he said.
"What's that?" Ryoma asked, bracing himself.
"I'm sure that the Bakufu will be ordering another military expedition against Choshu."
"Of all the damn..." Ryoma paused. "1 can't say that I'm surprised to hear that The Bakufu might eventually beat Choshu, crush the entire domain confiscate its land and even execute its daimyo, but it will never be able to crush the spirit of the Choshu men. The Choshu Loyalists are resolved to fight until the very last one of them is dead, and I don't believe that even the Bakufu can exterminate the entire clan." As Ryoma spoke, his face grew red with anger.
"I see your point, Ryoma. Now relax and listen to what I have to tell you about Oguri and the French, because it is with Oguri that Choshu, and even Satsuma and Tosa are going to have to contend." "Please tell me."
"After arranging for Katsu's dismissal and subsequent house arrest. Oguri replaced him at his post of navy commissioner last December. Oguri is now the most powerful man in the government. He's no longer navy commissioner, but instead will soon be filling my former post of commissioner of finance, which means that he'll decide how the Bakufu spends its money." Okubo paused, warmed his hands over the brazier. "But what has me worried most is that Oguri is now intent on saving the House of Tokugawa at any cost, even if it means selling out to the French for military assistance." "What is Oguri's relation with the French?"
"Let me ask you this," Okubo said, refilling Ryoma's cup. "How do you think the Bakufu was able to afford its recent expedition against Choshu, and the second expedition which is being planned now?" "I don't know."
"Well, certainly not from the gold we have in our coffers. The Tokugawa government is almost broke." "Broke?" Ryoma exclaimed, a look of disbelief on his face. "Yes, As you know, it was the Bakufu which paid indemnities to Britain for the murder of that Englishman by Satsuma men at Namamugi, and for the burning down of the British Ministry in Shinagawa by Choshu radicals. These two incidents alone cost us 440,000 Mexican silver dollars." "How much is that?"
"About one-tenth of the Bakufu's annual income. And it was the Bakufu again which had to pay the United States, France, Britain and Holland for the damage done to their ships by Choshu in the attacks off Shimonoseki. Add to this the great costs of administering Edo, Kyoto, Osaka, and the three open Ports of Nagasaki, Yokohama and Hakodate, and you can see that there is not much money left for anything else, including military expedition*,"
"You mean that the Bakufu got the money from the French for the expedition against Choshu?" Ryoma said, his eyes on fire.
"Yes. Emperor Napoleon III sponsored it." Ryoma tried to speak, but was silenced by the older man. "And now Oguri plans to modernize the military with the help of the French."
"What's in it for the French?"
"Ezo."
"Ezo?" Ryoma started. "You mean to say the he's promised the northern
territory to the French in exchange for military aid?" "Apparently."
"The rotten traitor," Ryoma seethed.
"Ryoma, calm down and listen. I still have more to tell you." Ryoma stared silently into Okubo's eyes, waiting for him to continue. "In order to centralize Tokugawa strength," Okubo said, "Oguri is also planning to abolish all of the clans, and turn their lands into prefectures under the control of a centralized, autocratic government in Edo. And that is why he is intent on first crushing Choshu, Satsuma and Tosa, the three most powerful han which are sure to oppose him. But to do this, Oguri needs money. The French have money, and Oguri has Ezo at his disposal." "And he plans to sell Ezo to the French?"
"Yes, for gold, modern weaponry and warships. And he plans to get French assistance to build a modern shipyard at Yokosuka."
"A shipyard," Ryoma exclaimed, his eyes opened wide. "Let him build it, and we'll take it from him," he thought to himself.
"In short," Okubo said," Oguri is planning the ruin of every daimyo in Japan, not to mention the abolition of the Imperial Court itself."
"What you're telling me is that Oguri would sacrifice the rest of the nation to save the House of Tokugawa," Ryoma said.
"Yes. The man is crazy. I'm a Tokugawa samurai, but I would never dream of such a thing. Not only is Oguri crazy, but he's dangerous because he's
brilliant" "But apparently not brilliant enough to see that if he goes through with
these plans Japan will become another China."
"That's my biggest fear."
'That's why there's no time to waste uniting Satsuma I Choshu," Ryoma said, his voice strained.
"Ryoma, you know I can't openly encourage you to tight against my own government but with a madman like Oguri at the helm, my heart and spirit are with you." Notwithstanding Okubo's hate for Oguri, that he would divulge such information to an activist intent on overthrowing the Bakufu was indicative of his deep trust for Ryoma. and his unwavering confidence in Ryoma's ability to fight his political enemy Oguri Tadamasa.
"I need all the help 1 can get," Ryoma said as he slowly stood up, and despite himself, felt a shiver run down his spine for the feasibility of Oguri's plan. "We must beat him," he said, excused himself and left Okubo alone in his study.
Ryoma spent the following two months beside himself with anxiety, waiting for Saigo to return to Osaka. Since hearing of the Bakufu's dangerous relationship with the French, he wanted more than ever to speak with Saigo, not only to persuade him of the importance of at least improving relations with
Choshu, but also to arrange for Satsuma to purchase a steamer that he and his men could lease. With this ship they would transport merchandise between the southern island of Kyushu and the mercantile center in Osaka, and with the profits earned purchase weapons from foreign traders in Nagasaki Ryoma had cherished these ideas since his talks with Kawada Shoryo years ago, and his service under Katsu Kaishu had prepared him to realize them All business transactions would be conducted under the Satsuma name with the Satsuma flag flying above the ship Ryoma's men would use to smuggle weapons into Choshu to defend against the Bakufu forces. Such was Ryoma's plan, the realization of which necessitated a union between Satsuma and Choshu.
One morning at the beginning of April Ryoma received a message from a Tosa man by the name of Hijikata Kusuzaemon, inviting him to an inn in Kyoto to "talk about some very important matters concerning an alliance between Satsuma and Choshu." Needless to say, Ryoma wasted no time catching a riverboat to Kyoto, where Hijikata, and two others whom Ryoma did not expect to meet, were waiting for him. These were Nakaoka Shintaro, whom Ryoma had not seen since fleeing Tosa, and Yoshii Kozuke of Satsuma.
Nakaoka had been working and fighting for Choshu since fleeing Tosa, just before Takechi Hanpeita's arrest in the fall of 1863. He had fought in Kusaka's Corps of Loyalty and Bravery during the attack on the Forbidden Gates, when he received a gunshot wound near the very spot where Kusaka had died. Nakaoka had also fought against the combined foreign fleets at Shimonoseki, and co-commanded the Corps of Loyalty and Bravery for a time during the following winter. As a leading disciple of Hanpeita in Kochi, Nakaoka had acted as one of his mentor's chief lieutenants in the glory days of the Tosa Loyalist Party in Kyoto. And despite having plotted with Takasugi Shinsaku the assassination of the Satsuma daimyo just one year ago, Nakaoka had, his loyalty to Choshu notwithstanding, recently established friendly relations with the Satsuma men. In fact, Nakaoka and Hijikata were now guests at Satsuma'* Kyoto headquarters. With the Tosa Loyalists crushed by Lord Yodo, and Hanpeita in a Kochi prison cell, Nakaoka was now in an ideal position to advise those Loyalists who remained free in Tosa Han-but were cut off from almost every source of outside information-concerning the trends in national politics, particularly in Satsuma and Choshu. Nakaoka well understood the mind-set of these Tosa men, having shared their still xenophobic convictions until recently. But his experience with Choshu-particularly the bombardment of Shimonoseki-and his extensive reading, opened his eyes to the awesome power of Western technology, convincing him to throw off his xenophobia. The last time Ryoma had met Nakaoka, he was as firmly against opening Japan as was Hanpeita himself; but now, as Ryoma had recently heard from the Satsuma men, even this strict traditionalist had undergone a metamorphosis similar to his own "A wealthy country, strong defense," had become Nakaoka s new motto and he, like the Choshu and Satsuma leaders, now realized that in order become strong enough to wage war with the foreigners it would first be necessary to trade with them. Indeed, in the spring of 1865 Nakaoka Shintaro saw eye to eye with Sakamoto Ryoma.
The lower-samurai Hijikata Kusuzaemon, like Ryoma and Nakaoka, had refused Lord Yodo's orders to return to Tosa in the summer of 1863. and instead remained in Kyoto until the coup which drove Choshu and the seven radical nobles from the Imperial capital. Since then, Hijikata had, with Nakaoka, taken refuge in Choshu Han, where they served as personal bodyguards to Sanjo Sanetomi, the leader of the banished nobles. They accompanied the nobles on their recent move from Choshu to northern Kyushu, and were now in Kyoto as intelligence agents for Lord Sanjo, gathering information on the state of things in the Imperial capital, particularly the court's current relationship with the Bakufu.
Like many of the Tosa men who had fled, Hijikata and Nakaoka now felt more loyalty for Choshu than for their native hat. After all, Lord Yodo had crushed the Tosa Loyalist Party, executing or incarcerating many of those members who did not flee. Despite Yodo's professed loyalty to the Emperor, he refused to take any action whatsoever that might be construed as anti-Tokugawa. In fact, when the Bakufu ordered the first expedition against Choshu, Yodo's heir had put aside his young bride for a few months: she was a daughter of the Lord of Choshu, and Tosa wanted to avoid possible charges of sympathy to the renegade han.
Until recently, most Tosa ronin had resented Satsuma as much as they did Yodo, and Nakaoka and Hijikata had particularly despised everything that the commander in chief of the Satsuma forces stood for. (As Saigo had told Ryoma, Nakaoka had come to his military headquarters in Kyoto with intent to kill him.) But since Saigo's recent intervention between Edo and Choshu, and his subsequent mediation to arrange a safe haven for the Five Banished Nobles, the Tosa men had come to see Saigo in a different light. Nakaoka had met Saigo on several occasions since the failed countercoup, and described him in a letter to his comrades in Tosa: "He is wise, learned, courageous, and usually quiet; but when he does occasionally utter a few words they are filled with resolution, and have a depth of thought which directly penetrates the listener's heart." (Nakaoka's description of Saigo resembles Ryoma's "the harder you hit him, the louder he roars," albeit Ryoma's simple rhetoric is, to say the least, more to the point than Nakaoka's erudite style.) "Saigo is a man of great virtue who overcomes others," Nakaoka continued, "and having gone through frequent hardships, he is rich in experience as. well. Indeed, in the way he combines towledge and action he is comparable to Takechi Zuizan himself"
When the Bakufu insisted that Choshu surrender the radical nobles as a sign of atonement, it intended to take them into custody as criminals. But since the nobles symbolized to the Loyalists the only part of their dream which remained alive, their safety was of prime importance to Choshu, and incarceration in Edo was not to be tolerated. Instead it was arranged that the nobles be sent to Fukuoka Han, across the strait from Choshu in northern Kyushu, where they were kept as virtual prisoners, not even allowed to
associate with one another. When the Loyalist guards accompanying them
Hijikata and Nakaoka among them-reported the outrage, Saigo quickly intervened to secure better conditions for the nobles at a Shinto shrine in nearby Dazaifu.
Ryoma sat cross-legged, to the left of Nakaoka, opposite Hijikata and Yoshii, his sword on his lap. He thought it pleasantly strange that his Tosa comrades should be in the company of a Satsuma man, particularly since Yoshii was Saigo "s private secretary. "Do you have any word about Hanpeita?" Ryoma asked.
Nakaoka gave Ryoma a hard look, his wide jaw intensifying the strength in his powerful eyes. "Nothing. Not a word," he growled. "Zuizan-sensei can't move because he's in jail. But what have you been doing for the past six months, Ryoma?" Ryoma smiled. "Nothing," he said.
"Nothing? How can you be doing nothing when there's so much that needs to be done?" "I have to see Saigo before I can move," Ryoma said matter-of-factly. "Saigo!" Nakaoka said. "Why?"
"Two reasons: to borrow a ship from Satsuma, and to convince Saigo to unite with Choshu." Ryoma spoke these words with complete confidence, as he looked hard into Nakaoka's eyes. "Where is Saigo anyway?" he asked, shifting his eyes to the Satsuma man.
"Saigo is expected to return to Osaka any day now," replied Yoshii, whom Ernest Satow described as "a little man, very vivacious and talked with a perfect Satsuma brogue."
"It's about time," Ryoma roared excitedly. "I've been waiting to speak with him for the past two months." "Ryoma!" Nakaoka suddenly shouted, "that's just what we've been planning." "To borrow a ship from Satsuma?" Ryoma said. "No. I'm talking about a Satsuma-Choshu alliance." "I know." Ryoma grinned, gesturing with his chin toward the other Tosa man. "Hijikata mentioned it in his note to me."
"Yoshii-san," Hijikata interrupted, as if to calm Nakaoka, "what does Saigo think about the planned expedition against Choshu?" "He's certainly not happy about it," the Satsuma man assured. "And what about a union between Choshu and Satsuma?" Nakaoka asked. his dark eyes on fire. "Because the only hope we have of wiping clean the insults of the barbarians and defending our sacred nation is if Choshu and Satsuma, the two most powerful clans in western Japan, agree to work together, import state-of-the-art weaponry from the West and use it to crush the Bakufu."
"But a union between our hem and Choshu will depend on Choshu," Yoshii said solemnly.
"Let Nakaoka and me handle Choshu," Hijikata said. "But what about Saigo? Will he ever agree to a union?"
"Leave Saigo to me," Ryoma said with conviction. "If anyone can convince Saigo, 1 can."
Ryoma spoke with such self-confidence that Hijikata began snickering: "You'll never change, will you Ryoma."
"Then it's settled," Ryoma said, ignoring the remark. "I'll work on Saigo while the two of you talk to the Choshu men."
"We've already begun," Nakaoka said grimly. "Ryoma, had I known you were thinking the same thing, I'd have contacted you sooner. You should be traveling with us."
"No! I've waited here for Saigo all winter. A few more days isn't going to matter now. But tell me, any word of Katsura Kogoro?"
"Katsura's recently returned to Choshu," Hijikata said. "He knew that it would be just a matter of time before he would be arrested in Kyoto, so he disguised himself as a beggar and waited under the Sanjo Bridge for the right time to leave the city. One day when he was questioned by a group of Aizu samurai, he told them that he had an upset stomach and was looking for a toilet. The Aizu men arranged for him to use a toilet in a nearby house, and stood guard outside the door while Katsura was inside." Hijikata started laughing. "At least they thought he was inside. Actually he snuck through the water hole and escaped."
Katsura is a survivor," Ryoma snickered, then stood up and thrust his sword though his sash. "I have to go," he said. "I have to get back to Osaka to wait for Saigo."
Since Saigo wasn't expected back for a few days, Ryoma stopped at Satsuma's estate in Fushimi to retrieve Taro and Toranosuke, both of whom were staying there. "Come on, we're going to a brothel," he told them.
Toranosuke gave Ryoma a puzzled look. "I thought you had to get back to Osaka to see Saigo."
"Saigo's not there yet. Besides, a man has to know when to enjoy himself. Even Shinta knows that much. I just saw him and Hijikata in Kyoto. And you know what Hijikata told me!" Ryoma broke out in a deep belly laughter. "What?" Taro said, his curiosity stirred by Ryoma's amusement. "On the night before they were to escort Lord Sanjo out of Choshu, Shinta gave Hijikata one of those hard looks of his, and in all seriousness said, 'Since we might die tomorrow, let's go to a brothel tonight and completely enjoy ourselves.'"
"Sounds like something Nakaoka would say," Toranosuke snickered. "The part about dying, that is. But I must say, I've never known him to patronize a brothel."
"Neither have I. Now, let's go," Ryoma said in a tone more imperative than friendly.
On the next morning, as the three ronin walked southward along the Takasegawa, they spotted a band of sword-bearing men, several of them also armed with long spears, heading straight at them "Ronin-hunters!" Taro gasped, recognizing the large white banner which one of them carried, emblazoned in red with the Chinese character for "sincerity."
"There must be a dozen of them," Toranosuke said. "I hear that once they start questioning you, things can get very dangerous. Let's get out of here."
"Relax," Ryoma said with perfect calm. Unlike the others, this was not his first encounter with the Shinsengumi. "Do either of you have the guts to walk right through their line?"
"What?" Toranosuke said in disbelief.
The line of armed men was approaching fast. As it was common knowledge that the Shinsengumi was under orders to arrest or kill any ronin they encountered, Taro and Toranosuke were terrified.
"You can't take all twelve of them,’' Taro said nervously. "Come on, let's get out of here quickly!"
"Stay right here," Ryoma said nonchalantly. "I'm going to give you two a lesson in human nature." He walked steadily down the narrow street, his sword at his left hip, the ronin-hunters heading directly at him.
The twelve men stopped about fifty paces in front of the lone ronin. "That's Sakamoto Ryoma, from Tosa," one of them whispered, releasing the latch to the sheath of his sword. "We've come across him before.*'
Although Ryoma couldn't make out the words, be recognized the man's face, and the look in his eyes which betrayed his superior ability to kill. "We can't take him," whispered a second man.
"Why's that?" the first man asked under his bream, without removing his eyes from those of the ronin approaching.
"1 can't really say, but I definitely sense something about him, something other than just his swordsmanship, that would make him extremely difficult to cut."
The first man nodded slowly, releasing his grip on his sword as an indication to the others not to attack.
Ryoma swaggered down the center of the narrow street, as if oblivious to the patrol directly ahead. Suddenly he stopped, walked over to the side of the canal, and with his back to the line of men, stooped down to pick up a puppy that was asleep in the grass. "Hey, little one," he said, rubbed the puppy against his face, then broke out in a deep belly laughter. "Is he crazy?" muttered another one of the band. "Let's take him." "No!" hissed the first man, his eyes on fire. "Nobody draws his sword until I give the command."
Meanwhile, Ryoma commenced walking straight at the line of armed men, still holding the puppy. While all twelve of them glared menacingly at him, the line parted at the center to let him pass. "See what I told you," the second man said. "You just can't cut him." "Strange," sneered the first man, as he turned around to watch Ryoma walking away. "He completely controlled us," said the second man. "Yes. And despite that stupid look on his face, something tells me he's up to no good."
When Ryoma returned to Satsuma headquarters in Osaka that evening, Saigo was there waiting for him.
"Saigo-san," he said, as the two sat in the commander in chief’s private quarters, "don't tell me that Satsuma still intends to support the Bakufu even though the Bakufu plans to sell out to the foreigners, and to use the money it gets to crush a Japanese domain." Ryoma had just finished telling Saigo what he had heard from Okubo concerning Oguri's pact with the French.
"Crush Choshu, you mean," Saigo said sternly.
"Yes, but not even you can say that Choshu is not a part of Japan."
Saigo stared silently at Ryoma, in what seemed to the latter either profound thought or utter stupidity.
"Can't you see that the Bakufu's only concern is the preservation of the House of Tokugawa, at the expense of the rest of Japan!" Ryoma hollered, pounding his fist on the floor. "And that includes Satsuma."
Saigo had remained silent for most of the past thirty minutes, listening intently. "Sakamoto-san," he said, "where do you get your information?" Saigo was obviously disturbed by Ryoma's last remark.
"Believe me," Ryoma smiled, "the source is very reliable." He could not mention Okubo's name, for fear of exposing his mentor as a traitor, which he was certainly not.
"I see," Saigo nodded slowly. He had no reason to doubt Ryoma, who until recently had been the right-hand man of Katsu Kaishu, one of the most influential and respected men in Edo.
"Then call off Satsuma's participation in the expedition, and instead agree to unite with Choshu against the Bakufu," Ryoma pleaded, staring hard into the big man's sparkling black eyes. "Because of the two hundred sixty ban in Japan, only Satsuma and Choshu count for anything. Only Satsuma and Choshu can overthrow the Bakufu. The others are either blind in their obeisance to the Bakufu, or just too concerned with their own petty affairs to concern themselves with the rest of the nation."
Without answering, Saigo nodded his heavy head slowly and folded his large arms tightly at his chest, as if seriously considering the idea. After all, Ryoma's words made perfect sense. Saigo realized that the biggest obstacle impeding the Bakufu from regaining its authority of the past was a lack of funds to modernize its military. If indeed the French were to finance Edo, then it would be beyond the power of Satsuma, Choshu or even the Imperial Court to prevent the Bakufu from usurping the entire nation.
Ryoma continued speaking heatedly. "We must act soon, before it's too late. It would cost the Bakufu about two and a half million dollars to build a naval station at the Port of Yokosuka, equipped with an iron foundry, docks and a shipyard. But Edo could never raise that kind of money on its own." He paused to let the effect of his words sink in. "Not without the help of the French "
The idea was no less frightening to Saigo than it was to Ryoma. "I see " Saigo said maintaining an impenetrable stolidity, save his sparkling black eyes which radiated perfect sincerity.
Ryoma sat up straight, thrust his face at the larger man's. "What about an alliance with Choshu?" he prodded.
"Sakamoto-san, I'm sure you understand that Satsuma has its pride. We just can't..."
"Pride?" Ryoma burst out indignantly. "Forget about pride. What's pride going to do for you if your entire domain is crushed?" "We must eliminate Choshu because it refuses to see the light." "The light?" Ryoma shouted. The light will go out for us all unless the Bakufu is destroyed, and soon. I hear that a Yokosuka Naval Station is scheduled to be completed in less than four years."
"I see," Saigo nodded grimly. "But Choshu has always opposed our idea of assembling a council of the powerful daimyo to handle these problems." Ryoma knew well of Saigo's desire for a new form of government: it was similar to his own. Ryoma agreed with Satsuma's call for a council of feudal lords centered around the Imperial Court in Kyoto to govern the nation, the formation of which would be tantamount to the end of Tokugawa rule. But Ryoma also knew that Saigo would never agree with his own desire to abolish the entire feudal system so mat there would be no more clans, no more feudal lords, no more samurai, no more court nobles, and with the exception of the Emperor, no more class distinction at all. For despite Saigo's lifelong slogan "Revere heaven, love mankind," his philosophy was rooted in traditional Confucian thought whereby the population was divided into two immutable categories: those who labored with their bodies, and those who labored with their minds-that is, the peasants and their samurai overlords, respectively. In Saigo's mind-and indeed in the minds of virtually all educated samurai-it was the duty of the warrior class to love and protect the peasantry who had embodied the mainstay of the agricultural economy since time immemorial. Saigo fully believed that the samurai must cherish the farmers, just as a daimyo must love his vassals, a father his sons; but. as Ryoma well knew, Saigo would never condone changing society to allow the peasants to stand on an equal footing with the "warrior-gentlemen," so that class barriers would disappear entirely. This, however, was precisely the goal of Sakamoto Ryoma, who hoped to form a new government by which all Japanese people would be equal, from the lowest peasant to the loftiest feudal lord, Ryoma had cherished these democratic ideals since first hearing of them from Kawada Shoryo, and they had matured in his mind through his contacts with the Group of Four. Not only was Ryoma sure mat Saigo would never agree to abolish the feudal system, but he felt that mere mention of the idea might alienate the great Satsuma leader. In fact, Ryoma decided that be bad said enough about Choshu and the Bakufu for one evening, realizing that if Saigo still could not see the absolute necessity of an alliance, then he probably never would. "One more thing before f leave," Ryoma said nonchalantly. "What ever happened with the talk of Satsuma purchasing a warship for my men and I to lease?" This was the first time Ryoma had ever mentioned the matter to Saigo, although he knew that Kaishu had done so several months earlier.
"I'm going to Kyoto tomorrow,'" Saigo said. "Both Komatsu and Okubo are there. I'll discuss the matter with them."
"Thank you," Ryoma said. Thus assured, he stood up, put on his sword, and left the Satsuma leader alone.
On the following evening Saigo Kichinosuke, Okubo Ichizo and Komatsu Tatewaki-for all means and purposes the Triumvirate of Satsuma-sat in the latter's quarters at Satsuma's Kyoto headquarters.
Like Saigo, Okubo was of low birth, but through sheer brilliance had become Lord Hisamitsu's chief advisor. Although Saigo and Okubo had been close friends since boyhood, they were of contrasting natures. The warm, magnanimous Saigo was loved by his comrades, while the cold, analytical Okubo would never enjoy such reverence. Nevertheless, through Saigo's influence, Okubo had become a leader among Satsuma radicals back in the days of Lord Nariakira's campaign against Ii Naosuke. After Nariakira's death, and Saigo's subsequent exile, Okubo's group petitioned Lord Hisamitsu to lead an attack on Edo against Ii. Hisamitsu, of course, refused, but affectionately dubbed Okubo's men the "Spirited and Loyal Band." It was Okubo who was most responsible for Lord Hisamitsu's march into Kyoto in the summer of 1862 to persuade the court to issue an Imperial decree for shogunal reform, and it is even conjectured that Okubo, Machiavellian in his belief that the end justified the means, supported Hisamitsu's orders in the previous spring for the slaughter of Satsuma Loyalists at the Teradaya. After Satsuma's battle with the British in 1863, Okubo was sent to Yokohama to hold secret negotiations with them. It was also Okubo who insisted that the Bakufu loan Satsuma the money demanded by the British for indemnities, threatening that if Edo refused he would have the British minister assassinated to further complicate the problems facing Edo.
Komatsu Tatewaki, a hereditary councilor to the Lord of Satsuma, was related to the ruling Shimazu family, and one of the highest ranking men from any of the clans to be numbered among the Loyalists. Satow described Komatsu as "owe of the most charming Japanese I have known, a Kara (hereditary councilor) by birth, but unlike most of that class, distinguished for his political ability, excellent manners, and a genial companion. He had a fairer complexion than most, but his large mouth prevented his being good-looking." It was Komatsu who, at Kaishu's request, had arranged to shelter Ryoma and his men at Satsuma's Osaka and Kyoto headquarters over the past winter. At twenty-nine Komatsu was the same age as Ryoma, and though the two had not yet met, the things the Satsuma councilor had heard about the Tosa ronin from Saigo, Kaishu and others opened his heart to him.
"Ichizo," Saigo said, referring to Okubo, who at thirty-five was three years his junior, by his given name. * I had a very interesting discussion last night with Sakamoto Ryoma."
"Sakamoto who?"
"You know. That Tosa ronin who Komatsu and I have been telling you about," Saigo said, glancing at the councilor.
"Oh yes, now 1 remember Sakamoto Ryoma," Okubo said emphatically, scratching his wide jaw, his intelligent eyes focused hard on Saigo's. "That's the man you wrote me about, isn't it, Komatsu-san?"
"Yes, he's apparently been trained in navigation by Katsu Kaishu himself, and is trying to get the use of a ship from our hem."
Saigo burst out laughing. "Ryoma is quite a character. It seems that once he gets his mind set on doing something, he does it. He says he wants to 'lease' a ship from us. He intends to use it for 'business purposes."'
Okubo and Komatsu shared Saigo's interest in Ryoma. "It sounds like we could put Sakamoto's navigational expertise to use," Okubo said. This was precisely Komatsu's idea when he agreed to keep Ryoma and his men at Satsuma headquarters. After all, Kaishu's former students were experts in an extremely sophisticated technology. The steam-powered warships of the mid-nineteenth century could be likened to the nuclear-powered battleships one century later, insofar as they were among the most advanced and expensive forms of military technology in the world In short, Ryoma and his men were experts in an elite field of high-technology which was invaluable to Satsuma. As mat han was engaged in illegal trade between Kagoshima, the Ryukyus and Shanghai to raise capital to rebuild its navy which had been badly destroyed by the British, it desperately needed skilled sailors.
"Believe me," Saigo said, "there's a lot more to Ryoma than just navigational expertise. I strongly urge that the both of you talk with the minister of the treasury in Kagoshima to arrange the use of a ship for him. Because it's only a matter of money that's keeping him down."
"I think that could be arranged," Komatsu said, kneading his long eyebrows.
"And that's not all Ryoma and I talked about," Saigo said in a low voice. After relaying everything he had heard from Ryoma about Edo's relationship with the French, Saigo asked, "What do you think of Ryoma's proposal about an alliance with Choshu?"
Okubo shook his head slowly, sighing deeply. "I just don't know. But 1 don't see that we have any other choice."
"My feelings exactly," Komatsu said.
Saigo looked hard at the other two men. "Mine too! I suggest that Komatsu and I take Ryoma with us back to Kagoshima and let him plead his case about a warship to the minister of the treasury, while the two of us make sure that Satsuma will not participate in the second expedition against Choshu."
"Yes," Komatsu readily agreed, and although Ryoma did not yet know, the first step of his great plan to unite Satsuma and Choshu had been realized.
* * *
Ryoma and six of his men sailed aboard the Satsuma steamer Butterfly with Saigo, Komatsu and several other men of that clan, arriving at Kagoshima under a clear blue sky on the extremely hot first day of May. The former students of Katsu Kaishu, the most knowledgeable navigator in Japan, were not just along for the ride. Before leaving Osaka Ryoma had told them, "We have to convince the Satsuma men to lend us a ship, so let's show them that we can operate one." And this they did, with Ryoma as captain.
"Saigo-san," Ryoma called from the crow's nest halfway up the mainmast, the Shimazu crest-a black cross in a circle-emblazoned on the flag flying
above him. "What is it?" Saigo bellowed from the starboard deck. Ryoma climbed down the netting. "I never thought I'd see it," he said excitedly.
"Ah, yes. Sakurajima," Saigo affectionately uttered the volcano s name. The two men stared at the active volcanic island, the symbol of Kagoshima, rising majestically out of the bay in front of the castletown, spewing a single cloud of white smoke into the clear blue sky.
Ryoma had good reason to be excited. He had never expected to get into Satsuma Han, which throughout history had maintained a strict policy of keeping outsiders out. Not even Tokugawa officials could gain entrance into Satsuma: most of those who had tried over the past two centuries had simply disappeared.
"Look over there," Saigo said, pointing to the batteries at the mouth of the Kotsuki River, which flowed through the center of the castletown into the bay.
"I hear that Satsuma gave the British hell with those guns," Ryoma said, squinting to get a clearer view of the cannon.
"Perhaps, but not enough. Look over there," Saigo said, pointing to the left. Along the shore, backgrounded by heavily wooded green hills, was a group of gray brick buildings with traditional black tile roofs. "Those are our new foundries, where we're manufacturing guns and ammunition. Most of our old foundries were destroyed in the battle with the British."
Indeed, the technology of the Satsuma foundries was so advanced as to impress even the British delegation that would visit Kagoshima in the following year. "The Satsuma people seemed to be making great progress in the civilized arts, and gave me the impression of great courage and straightforwardness" Satow wrote. "/ thought they would soon he far ahead of the rest of Japan." At the beginning of this year Satsuma had secretly sent fifteen men on a study tour to England, in defiance of Tokugawa law. England was also assisting its new allies in the construction of other factories in Kagoshima, also behind the Bakufu's back. But why was Great Britain so anxious to aid her erstwhile enemy? Like Ryoma, she predicted that before long Satsuma, and not Edo, would be the most powerful entity in Japan. Thus, Ryoma's determination to unite Choshu and Satsuma.
Soon the Butterfly anchored, but as all seven outsiders were not permitted to land, only Ryoma and Yonosuke disembarked with the Satsuma men. They were escorted to an inn in the castletown, where they waited anxiously for Saigo to return. Ryoma was concerned about the outcome of the meetings Saigo and Komatsu would be having with the daimyo and his council over the next few days, albeit he was confident that Satsuma would not participate in the expedition against Choshu. Since Ryoma had already convinced the Satsuma commander in chief of the folly of cooperating with the Tokugawa, he reasoned that it was merely a matter of time before Saigo and Komatsu would convince the daimyo to turn official policy against Edo.
Ryoma and Yonosuke waited at the inn for three days, enduring the scorching Satsuma heat, until Saigo finally returned. "Sakamoto-san," he said, “I've arranged for you to talk to the people at the Ministry of the Treasury." "Then Satsuma is going to get us a ship?" Ryoma exclaimed, clapping his hands.
That depends on your ability to persuade. Tomorrow you can talk to the man in charge."
That night Ryoma stayed at Saigo's home. Upon his arrival, he was astonished at the shabbiness of the place. "So, this is where the famous Saigo Kichinosuke lives," he thought to himself as they passed through the dilapidated wooden gate. Indeed, the house of the most powerful man in Satsuma was as mean as that of the most destitute of lower-samurai in Tosa, and certainly far more humble than many of the peasants' homes Ryoma had visited. Soon Saigo’s wife served dinner, and with it three large flasks of strong white liquor diluted in hot water. But as Saigo, despite his massive physique, rarely drank, Ryoma consumed all three flasks by himself. After the meal Saigo suggested that Ryoma get a good night's sleep so that he would be prepared to negotiate with the treasury officials. "Tomorrow you must convince them to get you a ship."
"Yes," Ryoma said, feeling the effect of the liquor, "but what about an alliance with Choshu?"
"Ah, yes," Saigo said, averting Ryoma's hard stare, "I haven't mentioned it to Lord Hisamitsu yet." "You haven't mentioned'" Ryoma said irritably. "No," Saigo said sheepishly. "You see, I've decided to wait until Okubo returns to Kagoshima before bringing up the matter. I have a hard time discussing things with our lord, but Okubo's different."
"I see," Ryoma muttered, a strange look on his face. Although Ryoma had heard from Kaishu of Saigo's bitter feelings for Hisamitsu (Saigo still believed that Hisamitsu had Nariakira poisoned), Saigo was, nevertheless the commander in chief of the Satsuma forces. "To repeat myself," Ryoma said, "it's an absolute necessity that Satsuma and Choshu unite against the Bakufu,"
"Yes, I believe so," Saigo agreed. "But don't worry. I have the utmost of confidence that Okubo will be able to persuade Lord Hisamitsu to see things our way." The huge man spoke slowly, nodded solemnly, sincerity radiating from his dark eyes. "But what about Choshu?" he asked.
"Don't worry about Choshu," Ryoma assured with typical self-confidence. "Nakaoka Shintaro is in Choshu now to convince Katsura Kogoro and the others of the necessity of an alliance.'*
"I think it will take a lot more convincing in Yamaguchi than it will in Kagoshima," Saigo said. "You and I both know that Choshu detests Satsuma."
"Yes, even more than Satsuma detests Choshu," Ryoma added. "But, then again, they have more reason to."
"Perhaps so, Sakamoto-san."
"But you and I also know that with the Bakufu planning another military expedition against Choshu, Choshu needs Western-style warships, cannon and rifles more than anything in this world."
"Even more than they need to hate Satsuma?" Saigo asked, an impetuous look on his large face.
"Yes," Ryoma replied emphatically. "But we also know that the Bakufu has blocked all of Choshu's attempts to purchase such weapons from the foreign traders in Nagasaki."
"What are you suggesting?" Saigo asked
"Don't you see?" Ryoma slapped his knee. "This is how I intend to convince Choshu to form an alliance with Satsuma."
"A brilliant plan," Saigo agreed, and despite the bad taste in his mouth brought on by Ryoma's suggestion that Satsuma purchase weapons for Choshu, the great man was unable to suppress a wide smite. "Komatsu and I will discuss the matter of an alliance with the daimyo as soon as Okubo returns. You have my word" Ryoma sensed from the sincerity in Saigo's eyes that this man would never make a promise without carrying it through. "But now, we should sleep," Saigo said
Ryoma only nodded stood up and went to the next room, where Saigo's wife had laid out bedding for him. Despite the great amount of liquor he had consumed mat evening his mind was clear, and preoccupied with the meeting be would have with the Satsuma officials on the next day. Unable to sleep, he overheard a conversation coming from the darkness of the next room.
"The roof of our house is so badly weathered that it leaks whenever it rains," Saigo's wife said in a low voice. "1 feel so ashamed when we have guests. Do you think you could fix it before long?"
"Right now," answered a deep voice, "all of Japan is leaking from the rain. I have no time to spend fixing our house alone."
Although the magnanimity of the great man struck Ryoma to the heart as he lay alone in the darkness, he could not help but laugh at the notion of this leader of armies laying in bed with his wife discussing a leaky roof.
Before leaving home at dawn the next morning, Saigo instructed his wife to have Ryoma wait until he would return later in the day.
"I've spent more time over the past six months waiting for Saigo than doing anything else," Ryoma told himself after several hours, and instead decided to put his time to use repairing the leaky roof of the house. When Saigo's wife found her guest climbing down from the roof, his face and clothes black from the ubiquitous volcanic ash of Sakurajima. she suggested he take a bath.
Ryoma declined. "But if Saigo-san has some extra underwear, I'll take it"
"The oldest underwear he has will be fine. I haven't changed mine in weeks.
"I see," Saigo's wife answered, before hurrying into the house and returning with her husband's oldest underwear. When Saigo returned, his wife told him that Ryoma had repaired the roof. "But he refused to bathe," she said, grimacing. "So when he asked me if he could have some of your underwear, I gave him the oldest you have." "You what?" Saigo exploded angrily. "But he asked me for..."
"I don't care what he asked you for," Saigo boomed. "Don't you know that Sakamoto Ryoma is risking his life daily for Japan? Go and find the best underwear I have, and give it to him right away, along with anything else he wants.**
Later, Saigo brought Ryoma to the home of Komatsu Tatewaki, a stately mansion overlooking the bay, where he met a high-ranking official from the Ministry of the Treasury, and other influential men of Satsuma. Here, Ryoma negotiated for permission to lease a ship, summoning all of his powers of persuasion to convince Satsuma to sponsor him and his men so that they would be able to establish a shipping agency.
"In times of peace we would transport merchandise between Nagasaki. Osaka and Shanghai," Ryoma proposed. "Since Satsuma would be our sponsor, we would share the profits with your hem. We would set up headquarters is Nagasaki, and in times of war Satsuma could use us as an auxiliary navy. As you have probably heard, all of us have been trained by Katsu Kaishu himself," Ryoma did not neglect to add, and with this use of the name of the former commissioner of the Tokugawa Navy, the Satsuma men seemed all but persuaded.
"But what if the Bakufu should find out that Satsuma is doing business with foreigners?" one of them asked. In order to protect its monopoly on foreign commerce, Edo prohibited any of the clans to trade with foreigners.
"That would be no problem for Satsuma," Ryoma assured. "Since our company would be run by ronin, the blame would fall on us."
Ryoma greatly impressed the Satsuma officials, who promised to procure a ship for him, although they would not say exactly when. After the officials left, however, Komatsu returned with some definite news. "Sakamoto-san," he said, his face alight with a smile, "I'm leaving for Nagasaki soon to purchase a new steamship for our hem." "Then you can lease it to us?" Ryoma said excitedly. "Unfortunately, that would be impossible," Komatsu replied grimly. "It's to be used exclusively for training our men. But you must have made a good impression on the people from the Treasury Ministry because 1 have just received word that each of your men will be receiving a monthly wage of three and a half ryo from Satsuma." "For doing what? We don't have a ship."
"To establish a shipping company in Nagasaki,** Komatsu said. "We would like your men to sail our new steamship from Nagasaki to Kagoshima. But have patience. You'll get your own ship soon enough. I wasn't going to mention it to you because it's not definite yet, but we also have a schooner anchored in Nagasaki which we have recently bought from a Scottish merchant by the name of Glover." "Then we can use it?" Ryoma said.
"I think so. But it's not a steamer. It's just a sailing ship, and quite old." "So what! It's a start. Anyway, we're in no position to be particular.' "Yes," Komatsu agreed, apparently relieved. "As I said, I'll be leaving for Nagasaki soon. I would like you and your men to join me."
"Fine!" Ryoma clapped his hands at the very real prospect of finally commanding his own ship.
Ryoma returned to the Butterfly, where the others were waiting for him. After informing them that Satsuma had all but officially quit the expedition against Choshu, and that Saigo was only waiting for Okubo's return to convince the daimyo of the necessity of an alliance, Ryoma told them about Komatsu's offer. "So now I want you to go to Nagasaki with Komatsu," he said.
"To do what?" Chojiro asked.
"To set up a company! Just what Kawada Shoryo has always talked about." Ryoma looked hard at the bean jam bun maker's son who, along with Umanosuke, had studied under toe progressive thinker of Western ideas several years before in Kochi. Ryoma looked around at all six men. "What do you think I've been telling you for these past two years? And most importantly, why do you think Katsu-sensei spent so much time and effort teaching us to operate a steamship?"
"To form a navy," Toranosuke said.
"Yes, and now we're finally going to do just that in Nagasaki," Ryoma said.
"But," Sonojo said, "I thought you just said we were going to start a company in Nagasaki."
"We are! A shipping company! A shipping company that's also a navy!"
"Won't you be coming with us?" Yonosuke asked Ryoma.
"Not right away. Now that I've convinced Saigo to unite with Choshu, I have to go to Shimonoseki to see Katsura to convince him unite with Satsuma. But in order to do that, first I have to go to Dazaifu in northern Kyushu to convince the Five Banished Nobles of the absolute necessity of an alliance."
Suddenly Yonosuke burst out laughing.
"What's so funny?" Ryoma growled.
"I'm sorry." Yonosuke said, "but it's just that I don't think you ought to visit nobles of the Imperial Court looking like that" While all six of Ryoma's men wore old clothes, none of them were as innately sloppy as Ryoma, whose kimono, as usual, was badly worn, the cuffs frayed, his face dirty and hair tangled.
"What do you mean?" Ryoma feigned indignation.
"Wouldn't it be disrespectful to the Emperor to visit His representatives in anything but clean, formal dress?" Yonosuke said in ha typical monotone, the humor gone from his voice.
"Yonosuke," Ryoma said sharply, "we've spent a lot of time together over these past two years, right."
"Yes."
"All of us have, right" Ryoma eyed each man individually, drawing nods from all of them.
"Well, then," he cast a diabolic look at Yonosuke, "you ought to know me well enough by now to realize that appearance is the least of my concerns." Ryoma paused, took a deep breath. "When the very fate of our nation is at stake, who gives a damn about the way one lousy ronin looks? Certainly not anybody of consequence, least of all the Five Banished Nobles, I'm sure."
"Of course," Yonosuke said apologetically.
"So," Ryoma continued, "while I'm in Dazaifu and Shimonoseki, I want you to go 10 Nagasaki and find a place in the hills overlooking the harbor where we can set up headquarters, from where we will unite Choshu and Satsuma to overthrow the Bakufu,"
• * "
Ryoma and his men set sail on the Butterfly on the hot drizzly morning of May 16, accompanied by Komatsu and several other Satsuma men. The steamer was bound for Nagasaki, but Ryoma's immediate destination was just east of there in Kumamoto Han, where he would visit Yokoi Shonan, still under house confinement in his native village. From here, he would travel on foot to Dazaifu, in northern Kyushu, to speak with the Five Banished Nobles. Meanwhile, the other six men would do as Ryoma had instructed: go to Nagasaki with Komatsu to find a suitable place to set up headquarters for a shipping company, to be sponsored by Satsuma, then sail the Satsuma steamer back to Kagoshima.
On the afternoon of May 17, Ryoma disembarked at the Satsuma town of Akune on the coast of the East China Sea. and followed the coastal route northward until reaching Kumamoto two days later. With the five volcanic peaks of Mount Aso looming in the distance, he walked northeastward, until arriving at Yokoi's native village of Nuyamazu early that afternoon. The rainy season had already reached central Kyushu, and much of Nuyamazu had become a marsh, surrounded as it was for miles by nothing but rice pad-diet and fields, to that the humidity seemed unbearable.
Ryoma increased his pace when he spotted the little man whom Katsu Kaishu called "as frightening as Saigo" for hit "intellect unmatched by any one in Japan" fishing in the stream that flowed past his house. Yokoi, who now wore a long gray beard, was standing knee-deep in the shallows heavily grown with duckweed, a bamboo fishing pole in hit right hand.
"What do you catch around here?" Ryoma asked as nonchalantly as if it hadn't been a whole year since be had last seen Yokoi.
"Sweet smelt and dace." The tip of the pole bent slightly. "Got another one. It looks like we'll have some fresh fish this afternoon." Then roaring with laughter, "Let's go into the house, Ryoma," he said, before swatting a particularly large mosquito on die back of his neck "Damn pests! They'll eat a man alive during this time of year. But it certainly is good to see you."
Ryoma, in fact, looked a perfect mess. He wore a kimono of thin white linen which had been so badly soiled that its dark blue splashed pattern was hard to distinguish from the grime he had picked up during his journey. He did, however, wear both long and short swords at his hip. He had received the kimono and the swords before leaving Kagoshima-gifts from Okubo Ichizo, who had instructed Saigo to pass them on to Ryoma in his absence. Okubo shared the same concern for Ryoma's appearance as did Yonosuke, although certainly for quite different reasons. "We can't have him looking as sloppy as he usually does when he meets the Five Banished Nobles," Okubo had written Saigo in a letter from Kyoto. "Especially since he will have been coming directly from our han."
"I've just come from Kagoshima," Ryoma said, as (he two entered the house. Ryoma disclosed to Yokoi his plans to establish a shipping company in Nagasaki, through which he would run guns to Choshu after uniting that hat with Satsuma.
"And you actually believe you can accomplish such a feat?" Yokoi said.
"We must. It's our only chance. Besides, I've already convinced Saigo." As usual, Ryoma spoke slowly, but in an uncharacteristically melancholy tone, as if he momentarily disdained the Herculean task that fete had dealt him. His mood changed, however, when Yokoi's wife appeared with a tray of grilled dace, and a flask of white liquor.
"What do you think about the pressure the foreigners are putting on the Bakufu to open die Port of Kobe to foreign trade?" Yokoi asked, filling Ryoma's cup.
"Foreign trade is a must," Ryoma replied without hesitation, and just as deliberately drained his cup, grabbed a single chopstick and speared one of the small fish. "But Kobe must only be opened under terms favorable to Japan, not the Tokugawa," be said, devouring the head of the fish in one mouthful. "If it should be opened to foreign trade under the conditions of the present monopoly, me only one to prosper would be the House of Tokugawa, while die rest of us, particularly Satsuma and Choshu, would suffer."
Yokoi's eyes flashed indignation. "The Inland Sea must remain closed to the barbarians," he said. It was on matters concerning Kyoto that this enlightened thinker lagged as far behind Ryoma as the most ignorant of court nobles. "For die time being, that is," Yokoi added in a softer tone. "Unlike Yokohama and Nagasaki, Kobe is just too close to Kyoto for us to allow the foreigners free movement in that port. We are not ready for them yet." Although Yokoi-like the other three members of the Group of Four-had long been a staunch proponent of opening Japan, he was as fanatic about protecting the sacred Emperor as were the xenophobes of Tosa and Choshu. ''And so," Yokoi concluded, "We must develop our military."
"That's how my navy will be of use," Ryoma said. "We'll be prepared to fight while we conduct trade. But first we must unite Choshu and Satsuma."
"We?" Yokoi asked.
"Yes. There's another man from Tosa who's working with me. His name is Nakaoka Shintaro. In fact, he should be in Shimonoseki right now talking to the Choshu men." Although Ryoma was correct about his new partner's intent and actions, chronologically he was mistaken. It was true that Nakaoka had recently been to Shimonoseki to discuss an alliance with Katsura, but what Ryoma did not know was that at this very moment Nakaoka was at Satsuma headquarters in Kyoto making plans to accompany Saigo from Kagoshima to Kyoto, via Shimonoseki, where Nakaoka would arrange a meeting between Saigo and Katsura, to break the ice between the two enemies. The Shogun had just left Edo for Kyoto, where he was to report to the Emperor his reasons for the second expedition against Choshu. With an attack impending, the Satsuma men were now determined to strengthen their opposition, because, as Saigo had long maintained, a defeated Choshu would only enhance the power which Edo had recently regained, much to the detriment of Satsuma. For this, the Satsuma men reasoned, the presence in Kyoto of their commander in chief would be vital.
"When you say that you'll be prepared to fight," Yokoi said, a worried look in his sagacious eyes, "do you mean against the barbarians?"
"If necessary. But more than likely against s Bakufu. I'd rather buy weapons from the barbarians," Ryoma snickered, "than fight them."
Yokoi stared hard at Ryoma, not a little awed by the ominous portent of the young man's words. "Tell me, what is your impression of Saigo? Is he as great a man as I hear?"
"Saigo's definitely not the simpleminded man he makes himself out to be. In fact, he's one of the sharpest men I've ever known. And as for his sincerity, I trust him completely."
"That's quite an appraisal!" Yokoi said, thoughtfully stroking his gray whiskers. "And what about me, Ryoma? How do I fit into the greater scheme of things? You know I've been stuck here for well over a year now, unable to do a thing to help our nation."
"You've already contributed more than a thousand men could ever hope to," Ryoma said. "You should relax, while men like Saigo and Okubo act out the remainder of this play. If they should get stuck in the mud," Ryoma now laughed, "you can always direct them back to their proper course." Ryoma knew well the invaluable role that the brilliant mind of Yokoi Shonan had played thus far in the impetuous drama of these most turbulent times in Japanese history.
The older man also laughed, but not without an air of sadness in his eyes. "You have a way with words, Ryoma," he said with a nod. "And I believe you are right."
Ryoma reached Dazaifu is Fukuoka on May 23. The Five Banished Nobles, he reasoned, would surely have a personal interest in seeing Satsuma and Choshu unite. Not only was Choshu the most dedicated to Imperial Loyalism of all the clans, but it had saved the radical nobles from whatever fate the Bakufu might have had in store for them, both after Choshu's defeat at the Forbidden Gates in August and its surrender to the Tokugawa forces in December. Furthermore, the nobles had been receiving protection from Satsuma since the surrender, and although Satsuma troops had been greatly responsible for their expulsion from Kyoto, it was Saigo himself who arranged for their safe refuge at a Shinto shrine at Dazaifu, despite the Bakufu's intention to send them to Edo. Ryoma's next mission, then, was to use Satsuma's display of goodwill to urge the Five Banished Nobles to pressure Choshu into joining hands with its most bitter enemy. After all, both Satsuma and Choshu were struggling for the same goal: toppling the Bakufu and restoring the Emperor to power.
During his five-day stay at Dazaifu, the outlaw-samurai was granted several audiences with the Five Banished Nobles. "I met with Sakamoto Ryoma of Tosa" one of the nobles wrote in his diary of May 25. "Ai a great man with novel ideas." Indeed Ryoma's mission was a success, despite the misgivings of Yonosuke and Okubo concerning his shabby appearance.
The Perilous Brink of Freedom
The lower-samurai from Tosa who had sacrificed everything when hefted three years before, was now a leading figure in national politics; and although he longed to be mated with his family, he never once deviated from the thorny path toward freedom. The years of forging his draconic spirit-the kenjutsu training in Kochi and Edo; the tutoring under Kawada Shoryo and Takechi Hanpeita; the unlimited source of energy he had inherited from the cool wisdom of Katsu Kaishu; the training at the naval academy in Kobe; the knowledge and inspiration he had received through close rapport with some of the greatest men of his day, particularly the Group of Four; the loss of many of His comrades over the years during which he too had defied death-had brought the Dragon to the perilous brink of freedom, for himself for his comrades, and for Japan.
While Ryoma was determined to topple the Bakufu and restore the Emperor to power, unlike his comrades this was not his ultimate goal. Rather, he was intent on abolishing the feudal system altogether-something he was sure neither Saigo nor Katsura would easily condone. He thought it futile to depose the military hegemony in Edo simply to replace it with an Imperial monarchy in Kyoto. Rather, his objective was the establishment of a democracy. His ideals were founded on two basic tenets of Western democracy: inalienable human rights and the free trade system, both of which were completely foreign to most of his peers. And although it is true that Ryoma intended to restore the Emperor to power, unlike his fellow Loyalists, he did not revert him as a god, but merely as a unifying force for the Japanese people, the symbol of a new Japanese nation. While Ryoma’s democratic government would be centered around the Imperial Court in Kyoto, in essence it would be based on the American model. In the United States, he had learned, the leaders were elected by the people, who were guaranteed certain inalienable human rights. Without these rights--among others the freedom of action-he and his men would not be able to conduct international trade in order to strengthen the Japanese nation, both militarily and economically. Their vehicle would be their shipping company-the prototype of the Japanese corporation-that they were at this very moment establishing in Nagasaki, financed by Satsuma, but operated entirely by themselves. Ryoma, however, realized that it would be impossible for him to conduct international trade without one unified government behind him: a Satsuma-Choshu Alliance would be his first giant step toward realizing this government, the overthrow of the Bakufu the next.
Ryoma crossed Shimonoseki Strait from northern Kyushu on the first day of intercalary May. Here he received word that Katsura Kogoro, whom he desperately wanted to meet, was a half-day's journey away at the Choshu Administration Office in Yamaguchi Castletown. That night, however, Ryoma suddenly came down with a high fever, and much to his chagrin, was incapacitated.
He recovered quickly, and on the morning of his fifth day in Shimonoseki received some important news: Nakaoka and Saigo were expected to arrive in Shimonoseki any day. "A meeting between Saigo and Katsura," Ryoma thought anxiously, and it was for the purpose of such a meeting that Nakaoka was escorting the Satsuma commander in chief to Choshu. Then, on the next day, Ryoma received a message from Katsura, summoning him to the home of a friend in Shimonoseki.
Ryoma had not seen Katsura since the previous summer, but had heard that the shrewd politician was now in control of the Choshu government. Shortly after Katsura's return from exile in April, word of an impending Bakufu attack had created a new sense of unity throughout Choshu, despite the recent civil war between the revolutionaries and conservatives. Choshu was now united in its determination to defend itself: should it be defeated, the daimyo would be punished, the samurai lose their stipends, the stores of the merchants would be looted and the lands and crops of the peasants destroyed. But since even a united Choshu. whose army numbered only some 4,000, could not possibly resist, let alone defeat, tens of thousands of Tokugawa troops-conscripted from the armies of thirty-one clans-Katsura immediately took two measures to improve the situation. First he increased the power of the rebel faction within the Choshu government, which meant recalling from exile Takasugi, Inoue and Ito-the three new radical leaders who had recently fled to avoid assassination. And even more importantly, Katsura's second measure, which now consumed him, was to modernize the Choshu Army.
"Welcome, Sakamoto-san," Katsura said, greeting Ryoma in a drawing room, and gesturing to another man sitting with him. "I'd like you to meet Murata-sensei, who's in charge of the overall defense of Choshu." Murata Zoroku, age forty-one, had only recently risen to prominence. Unlike most of the other Loyalist leaders of Choshu, Murata was neither a disciple of Yoshida Shoin nor an outstanding patriot, but so extensive was his knowledge of Western military science, Katsura now depended on him to modernize the Choshu Army. Although Murata was drilling his troops after the fashion of the Western armies, since the majority were armed only with muskets, swords and spears, he informed Katsura that Choshu must have state-of-the-art weaponry-namely rifles, cannon and warships-to fight the Bakufu forces. He proposed that Choshu procure 10,000 modem, rapid-firing, breech-loading rifles, far superior in range and accuracy to the old-fashioned, muzzle-loading guns and muskets of the Bakufu troops. But because Tokugawa agents in Nagasaki prevented Choshu men from procuring weapons from the foreign traders there. Murata had recently traveled to Shanghai to purchase as many rifles as possible. Unfortunately, there were 80 breechloaders to be had In Shanghai at that time, and Murata was forced to settle for the muzzle-loading type, and several cannon. It was the dire need for modem breech-loading rifles, and the extreme difficulty in procuring them, that was consuming both Murata and Katsura when Ryoma arrived.
"Hello," Ryoma said, meeting the sullen expressions of both men with a wide grin. "It's a pleasure to meet you, Murata-san."
Murata bowed his head slightly, and returned the greeting. "We were just discussing rifles," Katsura said.
"Which you're having trouble getting," Ryoma said. Ryoma's nonchalance annoyed Murata, but his uncanny ability to read a person's mind impressed him.
Katsura cleared his throat. "Yes," he said with perfect calm. "But please sit down, and tell us what brings you to Choshu."
"How many do you think you'll need?" Ryoma asked in the same nonchalant tone, though well aware that the question was of utmost importance to both men. "How many what?" Katsura feigned ignorance.
"Breech-loading rifles, of course. You don't think you can defeat the Bakufu troops with those old-fashioned, muzzle-loading rifles you have now, do you? You can fire ten shots with a breechloader in the same time it takes to fire one shot with the others. That would be like increasing the number of your troops tenfold." Ryoma stopped speaking, but continued to grin at the two men who he knew were far more informed in such technical matters than he himself was. "With the American Civil War over, there's a surplus of rifles in Nagasaki that the foreign traders are just dying to get rid of."
"Get rid of? Where did you get your information?" Murata asked suspiciously.
"In Kagoshima." Ryoma had recently learned from Saigo and Komatsu that, while Choshu was prohibited as an enemy of the Tokugawa from purchasing weapons in Nagasaki, such was not the case for Satsuma, which was still officially a Tokugawa ally. And as the four foreign powers-Britain. France, Holland and America-had agreed among themselves not to interfere in Japan's domestic affairs, even if foreign traders wanted to sell arms to the renegade han, they were prohibited by their governments from doing so. "But of course," Ryoma burst out laughing, as if to intentionally irritate, "you need the right connections."
Katsura offered Ryoma an empty cup, then filled it with sake. "Please elaborate," he said.
"A group of my men are in Nagasaki right now to set up headquarters for a shipping company" Ryoma drained the cup, and held it up for Katsura to refill. "For whose benefit?" Murata asked, suspicious of Ryoma's boasting. "Japan's," Ryoma said indignantly. "Who's sponsoring you?" "Satsuma."
"Satsuma!" Murata seethed, his eyes bulging.
"Yes. And," Ryoma lowered his voice, "Saigo is due to arrive in Shimonoseki any day now to talk to you."
"Saigo Kichinosuke?" Katsura sneered, suddenly losing his composure. "The commander in chief of the Satsuma armed forces. That dirty, rotten..."
"Yes," Ryoma interrupted, "Nakaoka is with him right now."
"Nakaoka with Saigo?" Katsura gasped.
"Yes, they'll be arriving together from Kagoshima to talk with you."
"About what?"
Ryoma smiled sardonically, shaking his head. "You just said you needed guns, didn't you."
"Desperately!" Katsura sat up straight, refilled Ryoma's cup. "But what does that have to do with Saigo?"
"Satsuma is ready to openly oppose the Bakufu," Ryoma said, his former grin replaced with a look of intense seriousness.
"Sakamoto-san," Katsura exploded, "you don't know what you're saying"
"Listen," Ryoma interrupted, his eyes ablaze. "If you will agree to talk to Saigo and hear what he has to say, I'm sure you'll see things differently than you do now. I've been to Kagoshima, and stayed at Saigo's home. Saigo is not the man you think he is. Trust me. Saigo has been urging Lord Hisamitsu not to participate in the expedition against Choshu. He's a man of his word, one of the most sincere I've ever met." Ryoma looked hard into Katsura's eyes. "I've just come from Dazaifu," he informed in a solemn lone. "The Five Banished Nobles agreed with me." Ryoma knew that the mere mention of these champions of Toppling the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalism would have a strong effect on the Choshu men.
"Agreed with you about what?" Katsura asked.
"That there must be an alliance between Choshu and Satsuma." Silence filled the void brought on by Ryoma's preposterous words.
"Sakamoto-san," Katsura gasped indignantly, "what are you saying?"
"You can't tell me that you haven't at least heard of the plan. It's been talked about in Shimonoseki all spring."
"Alright, so maybe I have heard of it. But if you really believe such an alliance is possible, you just don't understand Choshu's position. It was Satsuma who deceived the court into declaring our han an 'Imperial Enemy," after Satsuma sided with the Tokugawa. I don't know how many Choshu men have written the words 'Satsuma bandits' on the bottoms of their sandals just for the enjoyment of walking on them every step they take. We Choshu men would prefer to die in battle against the Bakufu than to unite with Satsuma."
Ryoma groaned, wiped his nose on his sleeve. "Damn this cold," he muttered. "I can't seem to get rid of it" Giving both men a hard look, he said, "I understand how you feel. But your main concern right now is to preserve your han and crush the Bakufu, right?"
"Yes," Katsura answered sharply.
Then you're going to have to forget about the past, and concentrate on the future. The only way to save Choshu from destruction, and to overthrow the Bakufu. will be for you to unite with Satsuma. And of this, I've already convinced Saigo." Ryoma paused, took a deep breath. "But I'm not only talking about Choshu and Satsuma. I'm talking about the preservation of all of Japan."
"And what about the rifles?" Murata interjected harshly.
"My company will arrange for you to buy rifles in Nagasaki under the Satsuma name," Ryoma said, perhaps stretching the truth. Although the idea of procuring weapons for Choshu to use against the Bakufu had consumed him as of late, he had only mentioned it to Saigo once. Nevertheless, he was confident in his ability to persuade; and so deep was his trust in Saigo that he was sure the great man would support his scheme. "We'll even deliver the rifles to Shimonoseki on one of our ships," Ryoma said, as if he already had a ship at his disposal.
"Alright," Katsura said, offering his hand to Ryoma. "I'll talk with Saigo. But his visit must be kept secret. There are many in Choshu who would die a thousand deaths for a single chance to cut him. And who knows what might happen if word were to get out that I was meeting Saigo, let alone discussing the idea of an alliance with the Satsuma bandits."
Katsura and Ryoma spent the next two weeks waiting for Nakaoka and Saigo to arrive, and although the Choshu leader bad no reason to hide his anxiety, the Tosa ronin had to force himself to act as self-confident as Katsura believed him to be. This is not to say that Ryoma ever once doubted Saigo's sincerity, but the very fact that the great man himself had never actually promised to come to Shimonoseki remained in the back of Ryoma's mind as a constant reminder that nothing was settled yet.
While waiting, Katsura was confronted with still another problem. The Lord of Uwajima, whose deceased wife was the younger sister of the Lord of Choshu, had recently sent to Yamaguchi Castle a copy of a letter he had received from Edo explaining its reasons for the planned second expedition against Choshu (This letter had been circulated among all the daimyo, except, of course, Choshu.) Included was an account of a meeting the Dutch Consul General had recently had in Yokohama with Bakufu officials to verify a secret report by Kokura Han, the hereditary Tokugawa clan located just across Shimonoseki Strait from Choshu. According to the Kokura report, Choshu men had been seen approaching a Dutch warship in the strait. The letter indicated that although the Consul General denied the report as groundless, he did inform the Bakufu officials that Choshu had recently been trying to smuggle some of its men out of Japan as foreign envoys, and furthermore that Choshu had opened Shimonoseki to foreign trade. Needless to say, the Choshu men were furious about this slander, which they felt might trigger a second expedition against them. When a Dutch warship carrying the Consul General happened to stop at Shimonoseki en route to Nagasaki, Katsura requested a meeting with the Dutchman, and asked Ryoma and Ito to accompany him.
The three samurai were met in the cabin by the Dutch Consul General and a British official, whose Smith and Wesson revolver, which he wore in a holster at his hip, immediately caught Ryoma's eye. The Europeans sat on one side of a long, polished wooden table, opposite the three Japanese. Ito, who had been to England, was to interpret for Katsura, with Ryoma present for moral support.
"Ito-san," Ryoma said before the discussion began, "ask him if he'd sell me his pistol." Ryoma smiled at the Englishman, drawing a confused look which made him wonder if the foreigner understood Japanese. Ryoma had attempted to study English at Kaishu's naval academy, but unlike Yonosuke and Sonojo, was unable to make sense out of the strange sounds.
"Later, Sakamoto-san," Katsura objected sharply. "1 want to get directly to the point at hand. Ito, interpret for me." Katsura produced an English translation of the letter, and handed it to the heavyset, blue-eyed blonde man sitting opposite him. "Please read this," Katsura said.
After reading the letter, the Consul General placed it on the table, and began speaking heatedly, sweat running down his bearded face. "It's just not true! None of it. I never said anything to the Tokugawa officials to slander Choshu. It was Kokura, not the Dutch, which tried to trigger the expedition against your ban, by fabricating a story that Choshu men had approached one of our ships off Shimonoseki."
"If that's the case," Ito said in slow, deliberate English, translating Katsura's words, "should war break out with the Bakufu, we must bring up the subject of this discussion immediately, and reprove Kokura for spreading false rumors to slander us. Would you be willing to be present at such a discussion to support us?"
"Certainly!" the Consul General affirmed, wiping his forehead with a handkerchief. Holland, like Great Britain, anticipating that the future of Japan lay in the hands of either Choshu or Satsuma, or both, wanted to maintain friendly relations with the two bitter enemies, even at the exclusion of the Tokugawa.
"Then it's settled," Katsura said, stood up, and offered the Consul General his hand. Ryoma followed suit, extending his hand to the British official, and with a wide smile uttered with an incomprehensible pronunciation the English word "trade." As he spoke he reached for his sword, and offered it in exchange for the Smith and Wesson, at which instance the Englishman naturally stepped back and drew his revolver; but as Ryoma had still not drawn his blade, the dumbfounded Briton soon realized that this smiling samurai meant him no harm.
Ryoma broke out in laughter, and said, "Ito-san, ask him if he'll trade his pistol for my sword."
The Englishman declined Ryoma's offer, but was nevertheless impressed with this odd samurai who would trade what other men of the two-sworded class considered their soul for a Smith and Wesson.
On the following morning, a young man appeared at the waterfront mansion of a wealthy Shimonoseki merchant and Loyalist sympathizer, where Ryoma was staying- "Ike Kurata of Tosa, in command of a militia unit for
m the Choshu Loyalists," he introduced himself to a servant at the front door.
"I'm looking for Sakamoto Ryoma."
The servant showed Kurata to Ryoma's room. "Kura!" Ryoma shouted at the sight of this old friend, and former Tosa Loyalist. "What are you doing here? What a coincidence. What a stroke of luck!" Ryoma clapped his hands ecstatically. "We haven't met in over three years, since I fled Tosa." Ryoma paused, clapped his hands again. "Sit down, and tell me about what you've been doing all this time."
As Kurata told Ryoma, with Yodo's suppression of the Tosa Loyalist Party he, like many other Tosa men, had fled to Choshu, where he served as a staff officer is a militia unit during the attacks on foreign ships in Shimonoseki Strait. During an ill-fated Loyalist uprising in the province of Yamato near Kyoto, Kurata commanded a rifle squad in the Corps of Heaven's Revenge barely escaping alive to Choshu's Osaka headquarters. The next summer he fought in the Corps of Loyalty and Bravery, and fled to Choshu after the defeat at the Forbidden Gates. In the following winter he saw combat again, fighting with Takasugi's Loyalists in the civil war which toppled the Choshu conservatives; and now, on official business in Shimonoseki, he chanced to meet Ryoma, who was like an older brother to him. Ryoma described the reunion in a letter to Kurata’s family in Kochi:
"Kura is just fine and he looks very healthy. What is particularly admirable about him is that he did not once ask about his family, but rather spent the whole day talking about nothing else but the state of things in Japan... We promised each other not to start any more useless wars, and not to die for a stupid reason. So far, around eighty of those who have left Tosa have died in the fighting. Kura has been in battle eight or nine times, and despite all the bullets, arrows and rocks that flew around him, he hasn 't once been wounded. What he's particularly proud of is the fact that he faced the enemy at a distance of about 200 feet, and despite the shells flying in all directions and the bullets whizzing all around him he stood right up and cried out his orders, his own gun smoking as he fired at the enemy artillery carriages. Most of the men hit the ground as soon as they saw the flash of the enemy guns; but Kura says that since they were at such close range, he saw no point in ducking because he knew he wouldn 't be able to get out of the way of a bullet anyway. Of this he's very proud. "Although Kura has always been very self-assertive, and generally not
well liked, it seems that a man improves when he goes to war. We had a great
laugh when he told me that now everyone really likes him..." After the two finished laughing, Ryoma told Kurata of the progress he and Nakaoka had made toward realizing an alliance between Choshu and
Satsuma, then, giving Kurata a grim look, asked, "Have you heard anything
about Hanpeita?" "No. I was going to ask you the same thing." "We've come a long way since the uprising over the deaths of the Ikeda brothers," Ryoma said, grabbing Kurata by the wrist. The unexpected meeting
made him realize just how much he missed his home, family and old friends.
"We've had so many brave men from Tosa fighting for our cause," Kurata said. "So many Tosa men have died in battle, and so many have proven their courage as leaders."
"If only Lord Yodo could be convinced to give up his support for the Tokugawa," Ryoma said in an unusually melancholy tone. "If Tosa were to join forces with Satsuma and Choshu, we'd be able to avoid more useless death."
"How do you mean? Certainly there would be a war."
Ryoma snickered. "You don't think that even the Tokugawa could stand up against the combined forces of Choshu, Satsuma and Tosa, do you?"
"No."
"But forget it," Ryoma said bitterly, slowly shaking his head. "I gave up hope in Tosa three years ago. I just wish Hanpeita and the rest of those men who stayed behind had done the same. The most important thing now is to unite Choshu and Satsuma." Ryoma smiled. "Kura, it seems to me you've had enough fighting for a while. How about coming with me to Nagasaki? Sonojo, Uma, Chojiro, Tora and Taro are all there right now."
Kurata took hold of Ryoma's wrist. "You know I'll do anything for you," the younger man said.
"Good! We'll join the others in Nagasaki as soon as Shinta gets here with Saigo, which should be any day now."
Less than one week later, on the night of May 21, Nakaoka Shintaro arrived at the mansion of the Shimonoseki merchant, blatantly alone and absolutely downtrodden. "I am truly sorry," he told Katsura. "Saigo promised to come, then suddenly, three days ago..."
"Damn those scheming Satsuma bandits. They've done it again," Katsura seethed, as Ryoma, overcome by frustration, pounded his fist on the floor.
Nakaoka explained that he and Saigo had left Kagoshima aboard the Butterfly on May 15; three days later, as they headed east along the southern coast of Kyushu, off the province of Bungo, Saigo suddenly informed him that he wouldn't be able to stop at Shimonoseki "because of urgent business in Kyoto." Nakaoka suppressed his rage, disembarked and hired a fishing boat to take him to Shimonoseki, while Saigo continued on to the Imperial capital.
"And that was all he would tell me," Nakaoka said, half apologetically, half indignant at Saigo's behavior.
"I'll be damned," Ryoma groaned, as Katsura remained deadly silent. "Katsura-san, it's not like Saigo to..."
"Don't tell me about Saigo," Katsura interrupted sharply. "The Satsuma bandits are up to their old tricks again. If I had told our daimyo of my intention to meet Saigo, I'd have no choice now but to commit seppuku. As it is, Saigo's insult to our han is too much for me to bear."
"Give us one last chance to fix things," Ryoma implored. "If we fail, then I'll commit seppuku."
"How would Choshu benefit from the death of one ronin from Tosa?" Katsura snickered.
"You're right," Ryoma said. “But I’m sure Saigo had a valid reason for changing his mind. You can't let this destroy our chances, not after we've come this far. The very future of Japan is at stake "
An expression of hopelessness shrouded Katsura's face, the piercing black eyes dark against the light skin. "The only way Choshu will ever be able to trust Satsuma now is if the weapons are delivered before I meet with Saigo Otherwise, we will never be able to forgive his insult."
"You have my word," Ryoma assured. “Leave everything to Shinta and me, promise to give us a little more time, and we'll have the guns delivered to Choshu. This I swear on my life." Ryoma grabbed the Choshu man by the wrist. "Katsura-san," he shouted, "you must trust us."
"You' re right," Katsura said, "Without those weapons we don't stand chance against the Bakufu forces."
"Shinta, let's leave for Kyoto tomorrow," Ryoma said, drawing a solemn nod from Nakaoka. "Katsura-san, we'll contact you as soon as we've seen Saigo."
"You can reach me at the administrative office in Yamaguchi," Katsura informed, before leaving the two Tosa men to themselves.
The two Tosa ronin sat brooding in a room overlooking Shimonoseki Strait, the only light from a single candle and the full moon shimmering on the still surface of the sea.
"1 didn't want to mention it in front of Katsura tonight," Nakaoka broke the silence, "but I have some more bad news."
Ryoma sat up, stared hard at Nakaoka. "Hanpeita?" he said.
"Yes. Zuizan-sensei is dead. He was ordered to commit seppuku earlier this month," The candlelight flickered in Nakaoka's dark eyes.
"Hanpeita!" Ryoma howled, his face contorted, hot tears welling up in his eyes. "Dead! And the others?"
"Izo, Murata, Hisamatsu, Okamoto-all dead."
Ryoma had not seen Okada Izo for two years, since his sudden disappearance while serving as bodyguard to Katsu Kaishu. Abandoned by Hanpeita, Izo remained in Kyoto, but no longer able to earn a living in the name of Heaven '$ Revenge, took to the streets, robbing and murdering to support the habits of drinking and womanizing he had acquired when bounty money for assassination had been plentiful. One day in the spring of 1864-more than a year after Hanpeita and the other Tosa Loyalists had been recalled to Kochi-Izo was arrested for assaulting a man in Kyoto. In his heyday Master Zuizan's most feared hit man would have been able to cut himself out of trouble; but two years of living as a drunken outcast had shattered his nerves so badly, that his genius with a sword-the only thing that Izo had ever cherished-had been destroyed. Even his physical condition had so deteriorated that, while he retained his lean, hungry look, his eyes, which had once been as fierce as a wild animal's, were now glassy from dissipation. After being thrown into jail and ordered to identify himself, Izo gave an alias, as he was well aware that revealing his true identity would only seal his fate. But when it became apparent that he would be executed at any rate, Izo decided to at least have the honor of being sent back to Tosa to die as a samurai. Expecting that the Tokugawa authorities would shudder at the mere mention of his real name, which during Hanpeita's reign of terror in Kyoto had been synonymous with Heaven's Revenge, Izo was outraged when they only laughed at him. '"The Butcher' Izo," they jeered at him through the wooden grating of his jail cell. "If you're so tough, what are you doing in there?"
As Tokugawa law stipulated that any samurai arrested outside his han must be returned to the authorities of that domain for trial, the police notified Tosa's Kyoto headquarters. Unwilling to admit that the likes of Okada Izo was of their own han, the Tosa authorities denied that such a name was listed in the han register, leaving me Tokugawa police no choice but to treat Izo as a nonentity. His captors gave him the name "Homeless One," which they tattooed on his forehead, and banished the wretch from Kyoto.
The Tosa authorities, however, were actually elated when they heard of the arrest of the notorious killer, a prime witness in their investigation against Takechi Hanpeita. No sooner was Izo released by the Tokugawa police, than he was captured by Tosa agents, caged like a wild animal and returned to Kochi, where he too was incarcerated.
Hanpeita and several other Tosa Loyalists had been in prison since the previous September, during which time they were frequently interrogated concerning the assassination of Yoshida Toyo, among others. Lord Yodo knew that Hanpeita was responsible for the regent's death, and was intent on proving it, even at the risk of inciting a dangerous rebellion among the lower-samurai. Although Hanpeita's upper-samurai status excluded him from torture, many of his men were not so fortunate. During their interrogation they were hung upside down from the ceiling, and whipped until their flesh was shredded from the bone, or until they passed out from the pain. Nevertheless, not one of them talked, even when put in "the squeezer," a wooden vise which crushed one's legs as a juicer does pieces of well-ripened fruit. And while the horrendous screams from the torture chamber were heartrending even to the stoic sword master sitting alone in his cell, the sudden appearance of Okada Izo in the middle of June filled Hanpeita with dread.
As a megalomaniac, Hanpeita could endure his men being brutally tortured; had he merely confessed to masterminding Yoshida's assassination, Yodo would have been satisfied, and the interrogations and tortures would have ceased as surely as he would have been ordered to commit seppuku. Although Hanpeita was prepared to die, he was simply unable to acknowledge that the lives of all of his men were more important than his own, which he was convinced Tosa desperately needed. "What ever happens to me alone is of no concern," he wrote to his wife Tomi from his prison cell. "But as I can't help worrying about the fate of our han, I am unable to control my lairs." So inflated was his ego that, despite his resolve to die, he refused to give up hope, however dismal, of his own survival, even as the bloodcurdling screams of his men echoed throughout the prison.
Then Hanpeita's "wild dog" suddenly returned, as if from the dead to haunt his master for having abandoned him. "If only that idiot would have done me the favor of dying," Hanpeita wrote. "If ho is tortured everything will fall apart." The sword master was sure that Izo did not have the mental strength to withstand torture; unlike the others it would just be a matter of time before be confessed. But when Izo's turn for torture came, he showed an unexpected amount of courage, adamantly refusing to speak. Although Hanpeita did not know it, Izo's brazen stoicism was founded on his anger toward Tosa for having refused to acknowledge his existence to the Tokugawa police in Kyoto. He had been willing to die, if he could at least have his due honor of being recognized as a samurai, no matter how low his status. And so, when his torture began Izo repeated over and over the same words: "All I know is that I'm the 'Homeless One.* If you don't believe me, take a look at my forehead." But when he was eventually placed on the squeezer, the screams which echoed through the prison were the worst Hanpeita had heard thus far. "If Izo should break," he agonized alone in his cell, "then all of the torture that everyone else has endured will nave been in vain. Poison is the only way
to stop him."
Before his arrest, Hanpeita had asked one of his Loyalist Party members, a doctor of Western medicine, to prepare poison to be taken by any of his men should their torture become unbearable. Using his connections among the prison guards, who revered him even as he sat in his stinking cell, Hanpeita had poison sent to Izo, with a note instructing him to take it for his own good. But as Izo's outrage toward his former master outweighed even his dread of the squeezer, he ignored Hanpeita's orders.
Izo was soon overcome by the pain of the squeezer; and, in confessing to me murder of the Tosa police agent Inoue Saichiro, he was able to avenge himself on Hanpeita. For not only did Izo give the names of his three accomplices-all of whom had refused to talk-but he also divulged that they had acted under the orders of the Tosa Loyalist Party leader.
Nevertheless, Hanpeita remained firm in his refusal to admit his own guilt; for although it was true that he had ordered many assassinations, he had acted only for the good of Tosa, the Imperial Court and the Japanese nation. During his interrogation, Hanpeita questioned the judgment of the authorities, who would believe the "lies of a worm like Izo." A natural teacher, even with his hands bound, Master Zuizan espoused his own philosophy: "A person who has no sense of duty, and no sense of obligation, is inferior to an animal.
Lord Yodo was determined that his philosophical vassal should die. With the Loyalist leader alive, the danger of rebellion throughout the seven districts of his realm remained very real, "but once Hanpeita is dead," he told his two chief interrogators, Goto Shojiro and Inui Taisuke, "things will finally return to normal in Tosa." Aside from avenging Yoshida's death and restoring cairn to his domain, Yodo had one other reason for wanting Hanpeita dead. So intense was this desire that the daimyo himself often went to the courthouse, where he would hide behind the screens and secretly listen to Hanpeita's interrogation. Although Yodo would never admit it, he suffered faint pangs of inferiority to this leader of the lower-samurai, and to nobody else in the world. Like Hanpeita's, Yodo's egotism was a form of megalomania; for one megalomaniac to slight another can be dangerous, and fatal when the one on the receiving end has it within his power to order the death of his insulter. Just before his arrest-when Hanpeita had been consumed with convincing Yodo to abandon his duty to the Tokugawa, and unite Tosa behind Imperial Loyalism-he dared utter to Yodo the following outrage: "My Lord, to dwell so fervently on the favor your august ancestors received from the Tokugawa almost three centuries ago, particularly now when the very future of Japan is at stake, could be likened to the idle fancy of a fool." It was this slight from a vassal, particularly one who was originally of the lower ranks, which me Lord of Tosa would never forgive.
Goto and Inui were among Yodo's new elite-young upper-samurai who had been handpicked by Yoshida Toyo. Goto, in fact, was Yoshida's nephew. Inui was the same man who had delivered to Ryoma, at the Chiba house in Edo, orders to return to Tosa. Although Inui had never been a Loyalist Party member, he was an avid Loyalist who had recently become intimate with Nakaoka Shintaro, making it difficult for him personally to interrogate the revered leader of the Tosa Loyalists. And no matter how much their lord wanted Hanpeita dead, no matter how severely they were able to interrogate the other Loyalists, not matter how strong their desire to revenge Yoshida's murder, when it came to dealing directly with Master Zuizan neither Goto nor Inui could summon the strength to treat him as a common criminal, or for that matter, as an inferior. Nor were the chief interrogators able to find confirming evidence of Hanpeita's guilt from the mere confession of Izo.
Hanpeita's interrogation sessions become more frequent after Choshu's defeat at the Forbidden Gates, which roughly coincided with Izo's confession. The news of Choshu having been branded an "Imperial Enemy," and the death of the anti-foreign Loyalist movement, left Hanpeita without hope of his own survival, as he knew that Yodo, no longer compelled to appease the radical court nobles, now had less reason than ever to keep him alive.
One sweltering afternoon in late July Hanpeita sat in his miserable cell, drawing his self-portrait from his reflection in the water of a small basin, the only light from a single lantern. Although the bitter cold of winter had made him ill, summer was certainly the most unbearable time of year to be locked up. The wooden floor of his cell was barely large enough for him to lie prostrate; and although his wife sent his favorite foods to him daily, often *• was unable to eat for the sickening stench of the latrine intensified by the stifling heat. There were no windows in the cell, the only openings being the wooden grating through which he could see his jailers. His only respite from misery were a book of ballad dramas his wife had sent, her letters and the fireflies he had received from one of the guards. Not even in sleep could Hanpeita find relief, for the jail was infested with rats. When he finally got a cat to keep the rats away, the mosquitoes wouldn't give him a moment's rest, lice and ticks tormented him, and the centipedes that occasionally fell from the ceiling made his skin crawl. Hanpeita completed his self-portrait; and although the cheeks were hollow, the hair and beard long and tattered, he was so pleased with the artistic achievement that he sent it to Tomi, along with a letter telling her "if I should die, keep this in the house" as a remembrance because he now knew that death was near.
Nevertheless, Hanpeita was deeply troubled by the apparent ease with which Izo was now talking. At the end of October he wrote, "Yesterday Izo was called to court. I'm sure that idiot was talking again." With November came cold, sleepless nights when Hanpeita's bones would ache. "The woman who was in the cell on the north side was tortured the night before last," he wrote Tomi. "Although I could hear the sound of the jailers beating people, and the screaming, I couldn't detect the sound of a woman's voice. I thought that compared to her, a man like Izo is surely the biggest crybaby in all of Japan." Hanpeita spent the entire winter worrying about what Izo might be telling his interrogators, until at the beginning of March, at his wit's end, he wrote a friend, asking him to prepare poisoned food, and send it to the wretch in his prison cell. Although Izo ate the food, Hanpeita's plan was thwarted by the unusually tough physical constitution of his "wild dog." The poison was simply not enough to kill Izo.
Near the end of May, Hanpeita was again interrogated, after which he wrote to his wife, "They don't listen to a thing I say, but rather continue to insist that I'm guilty"; and summing up his feelings, he lamented, "Ah, what a truly despicable world this is."
After more than a year and a half of investigation, Yodo's men were still unable to find conclusive evidence of Hanpeita's involvement in the assassination of Yoshida Toyo. One day in the first week of intercalary May, Lord Yodo stormed into the courthouse, and confronted Goto and Inui. "Hasn't he talked yet?" "No, My Lord," one of them answered timidly. "And you still have nothing against him?" "Nothing conclusive."
"Order him to commit seppuku anyway," the daimyo roared, before retreating to his castle and sake cup.
On the morning of the fifteenth, Hanpeita was ordered to prepare himself for seppuku, to be performed on that very evening in the courthouse garden. His crime: "impudence toward the daimyo." Now that death was certain, Hanpeita was determined to die as a samurai, the culmination of a life given to practice in the way of the sword and the strict code of the warrior-m short, a life he had spent preparing for death. To the samurai, self-disembowelment was not simply an excruciating form of suicide, it was his ultimate form of expression, his opportunity to display his inner purity by exposing his very bowels, the seat of his courage, and thus create beauty through a noble death. After bathing, because, as he told his guards, "it would be unsightly to have dirt on the dead body," shaving his face and pate, meticulously oiling and combing his hair and tying his topknot, Hanpeita donned the pure white kimono, hakama and stiff ceremonial robe his wife had sent him, then returned to his dark, dank cell. As he silently waited to be called upon to die, his thoughts drifted to the only joy in his life-his wife Tomi. (Nevertheless, during the previous New Year's holiday, when one of the guards offered to sneak Tomi into the prison for a visit, Hanpeita refused, because it would be "a disgrace which would continue into the future if it were to become known that my wife snuck in here to see me") He also thought of Sakamoto Ryoma. His feelings for his close friend, as he waited to die, came straight from the heart; and despite the difference in their ways of thinking, Hanpeita found solace in the thought that although he himself, like so many others, would not live to see the fall of the Bakufu, and the restoration of the Emperor to power, as long as men like Ryoma survived, Hanpeita himself might witness the final achievement of their goals from his place in heaven, among his ancestors. (Although Hanpeita had been kept informed about happenings in the outside, he did not know that at this very moment Ryoma was in Shimonoseki with Katsura waiting for Nakaoka to arrive from Kagoshima with Saigo.)
Hanpeita's seppuku was performed with the precision of a classical sculptor. He believed that there were only three proper ways to cut-one straight horizontal line, two crossing lines, or three horizontal lines. Hanpeita chose the latter, which was the least common, because it was the most difficult to perform correctly. But so weak was his physical condition after one and a half years in jail, that he doubted even his ability to walk to the courthouse garden, let alone the strength in his arms to make three horizontal slices in his belly, before his seconds would be obliged to behead him. He worried mat if he should fail to perform his seppuku beautifully, his name might be slandered in death, and that his enemies might laugh and call him a coward who was unable to die like a samurai. He therefore informed one of the guards of his plans, making him swear to publicize his noble intent in the case that his physical strength should fail him.
At dusk Takechi Hanpeita was led to the empty, raked white sand garden in front of the courthouse, which in the darkness was illuminated by a bonfire at the center of the grounds. Hanpeita calmly took his place on two new tatami mats, which had been laid out at the northern corner of the garden. In front of him was an untreated, pale wooden stand, on top of which were placed a piece of clean white cotton cloth and a sheathed dagger. Earlier in the day he had chosen his two seconds, both former kenjutsu students and expert swordsmen, who now stood at either side of him. Chief Interrogator Goto Shojiro walked to the platform, read in a loud clear voice the death sentence, after which Hanpeita bowed from where he sat. Glancing up at his two seconds he said in a low voice, "Thank you for your troubles," took the dagger in his hand, and drew the razor-sharp blade from the sheath. "Don't cut me until I give the command," he told them, staring hard at the dagger, as a sculptor might his chisel, then gently replaced it on the stand. He removed both arms from his white robe, baring his pale shoulders, men loosened the sash around his waist, exposing his lower abdomen, the chunk of white marble on which he would carve his masterpiece. Master Zuizan tightened his mind as he summoned all of his spiritual strength into his hands as took up the bare dagger, mapped the hilt with the piece of white cloth and plunged the blade into the left side of his belly. Without uttering a sound, he sliced across to the right side, pulled out the blade for an instant, and plunged it in again, repeating the process in the opposite direction, as white turned to red. With the third slice, he released a guttural wail, his only means to summon a final burst of strength; then laying the bloody dagger at his right side he fell forward with both hands extended straight in front of him. The next instant the seconds drew their long swords, but as Hanpeita lay keeled over making decapitation impossible, each delivered alternate blows, piercing the heart of their beloved sword master. Takechi Hanpeita was dead at age thirty-six; and so nobly did he complete his final work of art, displaying his inner purity, that even Lord Yodo's two lieutenants witnessing the seppuku were left speechless.
Izo and three other lower-samurai were not so fortunate. Although Hanpeita never knew it, earlier that same day the four had been beheaded for assassinations they had committed in Kyoto, not even permitted the honor of dying as samurai. Their conviction was a result of Izo's confession; and as Izo's crimes were the gravest, his head alone was hung on the prison gate for public display.
The morning after Nakaoka had relayed to Ryoma me bitter tidings from home, as the two were about to leave Shimonoseki for Kyoto, a special delivery message arrived from Nagasaki. The message informed that Ryoma's men had set up company headquarters in the Kameyama Hills, to the east of the city, overlooking the bay. The financial backing for the enterprise had come from Satsuma and the Kosone family, wealthy merchants to whom Kaishu had introduced Ryoma. Although the company was still without a ship, it had been contracted to transport merchandise aboard a Satsuma steamer between Kagoshima and Nagasaki, but was waiting for instructions from Ryoma for its first "big assignment."
"This is fantastic, Shinta!" Ryoma said, handing Nakaoka the letter. "As soon as we talk to Saigo, we can get started on our first big assignment.
"Which is?” Nakaoka asked.
"Procuring weapons in Nagasaki for Choshu, and transporting them to Shimonoseki."
"I see," Nakaoka nodded approval.
"Since we're stationed in the Kameyama Hills, we'll call ourselves the Kameyama Company."
"Ryoma," Nakaoka said blankly, "just exactly what is a 'company?'"
"A company is a group of people operating a commercial enterprise for profit," Ryoma quoted Katsu Kaishu verbatim.
In the spring of 1865-when on the opposite side of the globe a great civil war had just ended, and a great American president been assassinated-a Japanese outlaw, whose dedication to freedom was no less than that of Abe Lincoln himself, had founded Japan's first modern company, staffed by a group of wanted men, perhaps the first of its kind anywhere in the world. The Kameyama Company was certainly unprecedented in Japan, in that it was established by private individuals, rather than by a single ham-with Ryoma, Saigo, Komatsu and Kosone as its "Board of Directors." Similarly, it was the first Japanese company to be owned by more than one entity, with Satsuma Han and the Kosone family as "shareholders." Since all employees were equal, regardless of social rank, age or han, their duties were determined by ability alone. Ryoma, who had been the leader of these men since recruiting them for Kaishu's naval academy two and a half years before, was naturally company "President," with Sonojo "Vice President" in charge of accounting. Yonosuke, who had been Ryoma's right-hand man since the days in Kobe, was given the post "Secretary to the President," with "Chief Navigator" Toranosuke in charge of technical matters. Ryoma assigned Chojiro and Taro to the vital posts of "Chief Negotiators," and placed Umanosuke in charge of general affairs. Since it had always been Ryoma's policy that all of his men be treated equally, each one, including himself, was to receive the same monthly salary of three and a half ryo, with all profits divided equally.
"Once Saigo agrees to let us buy guns for Choshu under Satsuma's name," Ryoma told Nakaoka, "the alliance will be as good as sealed."
"But we must move quickly," Nakaoka replied with an ominous look in his eyes, "Before the Bakufu can launch its expedition."
"We will, Shinta! We will! And once Saigo has contracted us to purchase weapons for Choshu, he'll surely be willing to allow us to buy warships for them as well." It was with such a ship-purchased with Choshu money-that Ryoma planned not only to run guns into Choshu, but to transport cargo up and down the Japanese archipelago, and with the profits develop a private navy.
After Ryoma wrote a short note to his men in Nagasaki, instructing them to prepare to procure guns for Choshu under the Satsuma name, he and Nakaoka set out for Kyoto.
When Ryoma and Nakaoka arrived at Satsuma's Kyoto headquarters on the rainy morning of June 24, Saigo was waiting for them. "I received your message," he said, his large, sullen face damp with sweat.
"As you know, we've come from Shimonoseki," Ryoma began, surprising even the stringent Nakaoka with the unusually stern look in his eyes. In fact, there were very few men who dared look at Saigo the Great the way that Ryoma looked at him now. "Whatever reason you might have had for not coming to Shimonoseki and talking to Katsura is your business. Although I will say, you nearly ruined everything. It was all Shinta and I could do to convince Katsura to give us one last chance to persuade you to speak with him. But now he insists that Satsuma help Choshu procure guns from foreign traders in Nagasaki before he meets you."
"1 see." The huge man gave Ryoma a sheepish look, like that of being scolded. "For your information," Saigo paused, shooting a hard glance at Nakaoka, "when I received a message from Okubo on our way to Shimonoseki, I had no choice but to come directly to Kyoto to convince the Imperial Court not to issue a decree for a second expedition against Choshu.”
"And what was the outcome?" Nakaoka asked sharply. "I haven't heard yet," Saigo groaned. "After all, Choshu has been declared an 'Imperial Enemy.*"
The Tosa men stared hard at the commander in chief of the Satsuma forces "1 see," Ryoma groaned, giving Nakaoka a sideways glance. "Even so Katsura will need the guns before Satsuma can gain his, and Choshu's, trust" Ryoma paused, then added encouragingly, "The Choshu men need proof of Satsuma's goodwill."
Saigo groaned heavily, was about to speak, when Ryoma interrupted: "And I don't blame them at all."
"I see." Saigo nodded his heavy head, the wide chin nearly touching the base of the stout neck. "Exactly what is it that they want?" he asked, fanning his sweaty face, his black-diamond eyes focused hard on Ryoma's. "Breech-loading rifles, ammunition and warships." "I can guarantee right now that we can help them purchase the guns and the ammunition, but as for warships, I'll need more time."
"Time!" Nakaoka exploded violently. "We don't have anymore time. If the Bakufu should start moving on Choshu before it has those weapons..."
"Fine!" Ryoma interrupted, confident that once Saigo had made a promise not even the fear of death could make him break it turning to Nakaoka, Ryoma said with a casual grin, "Just like I told you, Shinta. Saigo-san is on our side."
"And it's a good thing," Nakaoka added with an eerie smile, "because I was ready to cut that big belly of yours, Saigo-san, if you didn't agree to at least help us get the guns." Although Nakaoka spoke as if in jest, Saigo, and Ryoma, sensed sincerity in his eyes.
"Saigo-san," Ryoma immediately changed the subject, exaggerating his laughter, "the Kameyama Company will handle everything. I'll leave right away to inform Katsura of your promise, and to set up a meeting between the two of you." Neither Nakaoka nor Saigo had ever seen Ryoma speak with such urgency. "Like Shinta just said, we have no time to waste."
"My main partners are Umanosuke, Chojiro and Takamatsu Taro. Mochizuki (Kameyata) is dead. I have these men and others.... in Nagasaki now, getting some good training. As for myself, I travel alone quite a lot...I'm in Kyoto right now, but in five or six days I plan to head west again. Only a real idiot would waste his time in a place like Tosa, without any ambition at all. "If you have anything to send me, send it to the Teradaya in Fushimi, at the Horai bridge...near the Satsuma estate. The Teradaya is an inn, where I feel just as much at home as I do when I'm at Takamatsu Junzo's (Taro's father, and Ryoma's brother-in-law) house; in fact they even treat me better at the Teradaya."
Ryoma stopped writing this letter to his family, wiped the black Chinese ink from his brush onto his cotton robe, lay me brush on the low wooden desk in his second-story room at the Teradaya, which the proprietress Otose now reserved solely for him. He had written enough for now; besides, his attentions were diverted by the girl who lay sleeping under the bedding beside him on this pleasantly cool, still night in early September. He had never felt this way for a woman before; part of him regretted ever having met her that day, over a year ago, in Osaka. He had tried to repress his desire for her. "Much easier to merely buy a girl, and be done with her," he had repeatedly told himself. "As it is, I can barely find enough time to do what I must, let alone give myself up to a woman," Indeed, Ryoma had been so busy, that until recently he had not had time to see her at all, and had felt confident that he had finally gotten over her. When he had come again, however, to the Teradaya in June, after leaving Saigo in Kyoto, there she was, the same pretty face that had enchanted him on that day he found her fighting with the two thugs in Osaka. It was as if she had been waiting for him just as he had left her at me Teradaya one year before, after Choshu's defeat at the Forbidden Gates. And now, he knew that he must have her. "Strange," he thought to himself, "I never thought I'd feel this way about anyone."
"Oryo," Ryoma whispered, gently placing his hand on her face, the skin like soft white silk in the dim candlelight. "I'll be leaving for Satsuma's Osaka headquarters in the morning." He blew out the candle, as the pleasant fragrance of slow-burning incense from a mosquito coil mixed with the fresh scent of the girl's body. "It's too dangerous for you to be traveling alone. The Shinsengumi..." Ryoma placed his hand gently over the girl's mouth. "Not even the ronin-hunters would have the nerve to arrest me," he snickered. "I have papers from Saigo identifying me as a Satsuma samurai. And everyone knows that Satsuma is one of the Bakufu's most important allies." Ryoma burst out laughing at the irony of the situation: over the past year-since Kaishu had been recalled to Edo and his naval academy had been closed down for harboring a band of rebels-not only had Satsuma secretly turned against the Tokugawa, but thanks to the mediation of the same band of rebels, i.e., the Kameyama Company, over this past summer, a Satsuma-Choshu Alliance seemed ever so close to being realized, "Besides," Ryoma told Oryo. "I have to get back down to Shimonoseki before long, and if all goes smoothly, on to Nagasaki." Although Ryoma had been too busy to even once get to Kameyama Company headquarters, as Chojiro had written him, it was set up in an old ceramics warehouse overlooking the Port of Nagasaki near the Satsuma trading station. The first "big assignment" Ryoma had given his men was the procurement of weapons for Choshu, under the Satsuma name, from foreign traders ,n the Tokugawa-administered Port of Nagasaki then transporting those weapons to Shimonoseki aboard a Satsuma steamer. The entire operation, Ryoma stressed, had to be conducted discretely, not only to avoid implicating Satsuma--which needed to ostensibly maintain its Tokugawa alliance-out also so that the Bakufu would remain unaware of Choshu's newfound military power.
Upon getting Saigo's approval, Ryoma had immediately sent a message to Katsura at Yamaguchi Castle, informing him of such. When a reply came telling Ryoma that Katsura was sending Ito and Inoue to Nagasaki to represent Choshu in the purchase of foreign weapons, Ryoma sent a message to Chojiro, allotting him the responsibility of seeing the deal through. Ryoma chose Chojiro for the job, which would encompass dealing directly with foreign traders, not only because Kawada Shoryo's former student could speak both English and Dutch, but because of his extensive knowledge of Western culture.
Soon after the arrival of the Choshu envoys at Kameyama Company headquarters near the end of July, Chojiro suggested that one of them go to Kagoshima. "Kagoshima!" Ito blurted, looking at Chojiro as if he were out of his mind. "That would be suicide."
"Don't you see?" Chojiro said. "By making the trip, you could kill two birds with one stone." He explained to the Choshu men that by going to Kagoshima, not only might they be able to reconcile the bad blood between Choshu and Satsuma, but they might even be able to negotiate the use of the Satsuma name in purchasing a warship, in addition to the rifles and ammunition Saigo had already promised. "Komatsu will be sailing from Nagasaki in just a few days," Chojiro informed. "I'll handle everything, if you agree to go."
The Choshu envoys agreed, and Chojiro brought them to the nearby Satsuma trading station to meet Komatsu, who was about to return to Kagoshima aboard a new steamer he had just purchased from a foreign firm in Nagasaki. "Komatsu-san," Chojiro said after introducing Ito and Inoue, "Choshu would like to formally thank your ban for the cooperation you have promised. Inoue-san would like to accompany you to Kagoshima for that purpose." To the great surprise of the Choshu men, Komatsu readily agreed, and Inoue, with Chojiro, accompanied the Satsuma councilor on his return journey.
Soon after, Taro arranged for a meeting between Ito, who remained in Nagasaki, and the Scottish arms merchant, Thomas Glover, dubbed the "Merchant of Death" for the weapons his Nagasaki trading firm, Glover and Company, supplied to the anti-Tokugawa clans. "Of all those in rebellion against the Tokugawa government? Glover would later write, "I felt that I was the greatest rebel." The Scotsman agreed to sell to the Kameyama Company 7,300 rifles. Forty-three hundred of these were rapid-firing breechloaders, weapons which had been used in the American Civil War, and with which Choshu planned to challenge the Tokugawa armies. These rifles alone cost Choshu 77,400 gold ryo, the 3,000 old-fashioned muzzle-loaders 15,000 ryo.
Inoue did not fare quite so well in Kagoshima. Although through Chojiro's mediation he did have several meetings with the Satsuma elite, and so succeeded in warming relations between the two clans, Satsuma was not ready
to go so far as to offer its good name for the purchase of a warship for its erstwhile enemy. But when word reached Chojiro and Inoue in Kagoshima that there were over 7,000 rifles in a Nagasaki Warehouse waiting to be shipped to Choshu, they returned immediately to Kameyama Company headquarters aboard the Butterfly, with permission to use that ship to transport the weapons to Shimonoseki. By the end of August, not only had Ryoma's shipping company completed its first "big assignment," receiving in return a sizable handling fee, but most importantly it had brought Satsuma and Choshu one step further toward an alliance, while secretly arming the latter for war against the Bakufu.
It was no wonder that Ryoma was pleased with things as he lay next to Oryo, who was sound asleep, his mind drifting between his family in Kochi and his company in Nagasaki. "That's it!" he muttered, relit die candle with the burning mosquito coil, picked up his brush, and addressed the next part of the letter specifically to his sister Otome.
"Although 1 know it's a bother, I have a favor to ask of you. The last time I was home, there was a box of books in the closet on the west side of the sitting room, including about ten volumes on Ogasawara Style etiquette, the covers of which were yellowed with age. Each of these volumes is only about three to six milliliters thick. Recently somebody has been asking me to get a hold of some books on etiquette, but since I can't seem to find any, I 'd like to have those Ogasawara books. Be sure not to ignore this request just because you think it's too much of a bother."
Ryoma stopped writing, recalling his sister's penchant for me arts, and her abhorrence for cooking and housework. Next he described a certain Kyoto family, whose deceased father had been a physician and friend of famous Imperial Loyalists who had lost their lives in Kyoto. "This was a good family. The oldest daughter is trained in flower arrangement, incense, the tea ceremony, and so on, but she can't cook at all." Ryoma paused to snicker, then, determined that Otome should like Oryo, dabbed his brush into the ink, and continued by boasting of Oryo's courage, how she had sold her kimono to raise traveling money to go to Osaka, and how she had threatened the thugs who had deceived her family, daring them to kill her, all the while screaming at them violently, demanding that they release her sister.
"The girl I've been talking about is really an amazing girl. She plays the moon guitar, and doesn't have to struggle any more to get by. I have helped her youngest sister and five-year-old brother by finding places for them to live...I would really like to help this girl all I can. And she is very anxious to meet you, Otome, just as if you were her own sister. So, as you can see, you have become quite famous. In fact, you have a reputation for being even tougher than Ryoma."
Ryoma stopped writing. "I suppose I've flattered her enough," he thought, laughed to himself, returned his brush to the paper and got to the point. "I would appreciate it if you could send something-a kimono or a sash-for this girl, along with the books I've asked you for. Her name is Ryo, like mine."
Ryoma felt suddenly exhausted. He signed his name to the letter, then lay down next to Oryo. The warmth of her body, the fragrance of her breath made him feel better than he could remember ever having felt before. But the next Hung he knew, it was the beginning of another day in these very troubled times, and he would have to leave Oryo to go to Osaka, to see the man in whose hands the very future of Japan seemed to rest.
Despite Satsuma's open opposition to a second expedition against Choshu, the orders had been given for thirty-one clans to dispatch armies to western Honshu-mostly the Kyoto-Osaka area-for an impending attack; and though Satsuma had no intention of taking part in the fighting, for the time being it had no choice but to feign obedience.
The Shogun-and most of his highest-ranking advisors-had been in the Kyoto-Osaka area since May to take command of Bakufu troops, and to rally Imperial support. There were three reasons, the Bakufu had told the court, that Choshu must be punished: the revival of its hostility toward Edo; its illegal purchase of weapons from foreign merchants; its smuggling of samurai out of Japan. And while Edo suspected Choshu's attempt to buy foreign arms, it was unaware that the rebels had actually procured breech-loading rifles under the Satsuma name. But as the Bakufu lacked both the funds for war and moral support among many of the clans-not the least of which was Satsuma-it preferred to avoid fighting, if this could be done while maintaining an air of authority.
Although at one time the Bakufu only possessed 20,000 ryo in its treasury, the maintenance of its armies cost 180,000 ryo per month, which meant it had already spent some 2,000,000 ryo since the first expedition against Choshu hand been announced. To raise this enormous sum, the Bakufu had borrowed from Osaka merchants and various clans. Even worse than its financial straits, however were the inferior weaponry and deteriorating morale of its troops. With the exception of the troops of Kii Han, the native domain of the present Shogun, the Bakufu armies were armed with old-fashioned guns, which would be no c >h for the rapid-firing breech-loaders of Choshu. And as Kondo Isami, commander of the Shinsengumi, had reported, not a few of the Tokugawa samurai sent to western Japan passed their time buying souvenirs to take back to Edo, and could think of nothing but the day they would return. Kondo recommended that since there was little hope of victory if war should break out, any sign of submission on Choshu's part should be accepted without further question. But when the Bakufu summoned the Choshu daimyo to Osaka to apologize for his clan's actions, he refused, and the Shogun had no choice but to go ahead with his original battle plans, unaware, of course, of Choshu's newfound military might.
The Lord of Choshu, in fact, had already issued orders for the people throughout his realm-commoners and samurai alike--to prepare for all-out war, and Ryoma had been very impressed with what he had seen while in Choshu earlier in the year, even before Choshu had acquired the superior guns. "Choshu is putting everything into the training of its troops" he wrote to his family. 'Since April they have been drilling from around six to ten every morning. It's the same all over Choshu. Each of their battalions is made up of between three and four hundred men, with a general staff officer in command. The battalions in every district, every village, drill each morning. There is nothing like it anywhere else in Japan. No matter where you go in Choshu-the mountains, the rivers, the valleys-you are bound to come across fortifications, and there are land mines planted on most of the main roads....Choshu is certainly at the forefront of Western artillery."
Nakaoka Shintaro reported similar circumstances in a letter to his comrades in Tosa: "Choshu policy has been stabilized, the government has been reformed, and the people are resolved to fight to the death. In this state the samurai spirit thrives, the preparation of weapons increases daily, and words have been replaced by deeds. In every way the forces of the han have been renewed; only battalions of rifles and cannon exist...In every respect the military system has been reformed. Cavalry units also flourish. Within this han great maneuvers are carried out; in one day as many as forty-six battalions may practice gunnery without stopping. Truly, Choshu's forces are unsurpassed."
Saigo was anxiously waiting for Ryoma when the latter arrived at Satsuma's Osaka headquarters.
"How many Satsuma troops are stationed in Osaka and Kyoto right now?" Ryoma asked, as the two men sat in Saigo's private quarters.
"With Bakufu orders issued to prepare for the second expedition," Saigo snickered, "thousands. But, of course, we won't be fighting." The large man paused, then laughed. "Against Choshu, that is."
"Do you have enough provisions here to feed all of them?" Ryoma asked.
"I've been very concerned about that." Saigo said uncomfortably. "Why do you ask?"
"What do they eat everyday?" Ryoma answered with another question, cleaning his teeth with his forefinger, then wiping it on his sleeve.
"The same as always."
"You mean sweet potatoes?" Ryoma grimaced, then released a loud guffaw. "Only country bumpkins eat potatoes instead of rice in the Imperial capital. Aren't you concerned about the morale of your troops?"
Saigo stared hard at Ryoma, unsure whether to appreciate or loathe the advice. After all, the sweet potato was the staple in Satsuma, where the warm climate and mountainous terrain made the cultivation of rice difficult. "Of course I'm concerned about the morale of my troops, but..."
"Saigo-san," Ryoma interrupted, putting his arm around the huge man's shoulders, "don't you think they deserve rice? And don't you think you ought to have a surplus of rice in Kyoto in case of war Not only would it help their morale, but this is the Imperial capital, not Kagoshima. And nobody lives on sweet potatoes in the..."
"I get your point," Saigo interrupted, a bit annoyed, but nevertheless impressed with Ryoma s sense for practical matters. “What do you suggest we do? Purchase rice from Choshu?" he said sarcastically.
"Great idea!" Ryoma feigned surprise, as if to give Saigo credit for the plan. "I'll leave for Shimonoseki right away to make the necessary arrangements. And I wouldn't be surprised, if Katsura offers to make a gift of the rice as a token of gratitude for Satsuma's help in procuring weapons " The timing of this last statement was perfect because Ryoma was despite his sincerity, beginning to sound more like a rice dealer than a Man of High Purpose. He knew that Choshu had excess quantities of rice in its storehouses, more titan it needed, while Satsuma was forever suffering from rice shortages. Certainly, he reasoned, this would further reduce tensions between the two clans, and even give Choshu the chance to save face by no longer being the sole benefactor of its renewed relationship with Satsuma. "The Kameyama Company will handle all the shipping," Ryoma added.
"I'll be sailing for Kagoshima as soon as I finish taking care of some business here in Kyoto," Saigo said. "We'll take you to Choshu."
In mid-September, just before Saigo and Ryoma were to set sail from Kobe, a squadron of nine foreign warships suddenly entered Osaka Bay, to present an ultimatum to the Shogun and his befuddled ministers at Osaka Castle.
The indemnity owed by Edo to the governments of the four foreign powers for Choshu's attack on foreign shipping was still unpaid, and the foreigners now demanded the payment in full by the end of the following year. Well aware of Edo's lack of funds, however, the foreigners offered an alternative. If Edo would agree to meet certain conditions, not only could the payment be postponed, but it would be reduced by two-thirds of the amount originally stipulated. The two biggest conditions were as follows: the Ports of Osaka and Kobe be opened to foreigners by the first of the following year; and Edo obtain Imperial sanction for the commercial treaties. When the alarmed Tokugawa officials were, as usual, unable to give an immediate answer, the foreign ministers, backed by the squadron of warships in Osaka Bay, threatened to bring their demands directly to the Emperor in Kyoto. The mere idea of such a move, which would even further diminish Tokugawa authority in the eyes of the nation and the world, caused further confusion in the Bakufu hierarchy.
Dissent within the Bakufu ensued. One faction favored opening Osaka and Kobe, with or without Imperial sanction, as the only way to dissuade the foreign delegation from forcing its way into Kyoto. On the other hand, Lord Yoshinobu, who was the Bakufu's Inspector General of the Forces to Protect the Emperor, would have nothing of the plan. Yoshinobu rightly feared that opening these ports without Imperial sanction would ignite the ire of xenophobes throughout Japan. While the court was at first adamant in its refusal to open the ports in question (unlike the open Ports of Yokohama, Nagasaki and Hakodate, Osaka and Kobe were only a day's journey to Kyoto, which bad remained closed to foreigners), Yoshinobu finally convinced the chronically xenophobic Emperor Komei that unless he sanctioned the treaties, Japan would face a war that it could not hope to win. The foreigners had scored an important victory, as not only the Bakufu, but the Imperial Court itself, officially sanctioned the opening of Japan at the beginning of October, over seven years after the first commercial treaties had been signed.
Ryoma and Saigo stood on the deck of the Butterfly, on the chilly morning of September 26, the sails taut against a strong wind, as the ship cut through the choppy waters of Osaka Bay. Moored in the bay were Japanese junks of various sizes, several wooden steamers flying the Tokugawa crest, but most imposingly the nine warships of the foreign squadron-five British, three French, one Dutch-their ministers still negotiating with Bakufu officials in Osaka. Ryoma squinted hard at the closest of the foreign ships, just a stone's throw away. This was a British paddle-sloop, cannon mounted along both sides, sailors in navy whites staring straight back at him. "We must get that steamer right way," he muttered aloud the same phrase he had, when on the night before Saigo had informed him, "Four days ago the Imperial Court was forced by Edo to agree to sanction the second expedition against Choshu, although Satsuma was the only han that dissented." On the same day that the Shogun had visited the Imperial Palace to request the sanction, Okubo had gone so far as to threaten certain court officials that Satsuma would not obey an Imperial order to attack Choshu. Okubo bad also ignored a recent proposal by Aizu to renew the Aizu-Satsuma alliance. "Don't worry," Saigo assured Ryoma now as then, "Choshu will have a steamer very soon."
Three days later Ryoma landed at Kaminoseki promontory in the southeast of Choshu, while Saigo continued on to Kagoshima. With Satsuma's recent display of goodwill toward Choshu, Ryoma had little difficulty convincing the authorities in Yamaguchi to agree to make a gift of rice to Saigo's troops in Kyoto, after, of course, he had informed them of the issuance of Imperial sanction for a Bakufu attack, and of Okubo's refusal to fight. This taken care of, Ryoma hurried to Shimonoseki, where Katsura was arranging a shipment of 2,400 bushels of rice for Satsuma. Ryoma's next plan to was urge Katsura to go to Kyoto to meet Saigo and Komatsu, who, with war imminent, would return to the Imperial capital later this month with more troops from Kagoshima. When Ryoma arrived at the mansion of the wealthy Shimonoseki merchant one afternoon in mid-October, to wait for the right time to approach Katsura, he was informed by Inoue that Choshu had purchased a warship.
"Where is it?" Ryoma was ecstatic.
"On its way here," replied Inoue, just returned from Nagasaki, where he, Ito and Chojiro had finalized a deal with Glover. "I don't believe we've ever met, Sakamoto-san." Inoue bowed, then introduced himself. He was slight of build, of light complexion, his face badly scarred from a nearly fatal attack by Choshu conservatives in the previous fall. "I can't thank you enough, on behalf of our lord and every man in our han. for what you and your men have done for Choshu," Inoue said. "Particularly, Kondo-san. Our lord has recently presented him with a sword as a token of
his appreciation.
"Not bad for a bean jam bun maker's son," Ryoma snickered, pleased that a commoner had been thus honored by the Lord of Choshu.
Without the services of Ryoma's Kameyama Company, Choshu would never have procured the guns and warship from Glover, and, after Ryoma it was Rondo Chojiro who had played the most active role in realizing the deal. But despite Chojiro's ability-or perhaps because of it-he was reluctant to allot work to others if he thought he could do it himself, a trait which earned him the resentment of the entire group. Ryoma had recently received several letters from his men complaining about Chojiro. "If you were hen " Yonosuke had written, "Chojiro wouldn’t 't dare to do what he's doing now. He arranged for himself to go to Kagoshima twice, so that he could get the credit for handling the weapons deal for Choshu.'" Taro had expressed similar sentiment when he wrote, "Chojiro simply doesn’t 't know how to work with others, and is primarily concerned with himself" Ryoma suspected that Taro and Yonosuke, both of whom were of samurai stock, resented the fact that Chojiro had been thus honored by the Lord of Choshu. "Since we have enough problems as it is," he replied, "do your best to get along with each other until J get to Nagasaki, which will be as soon as I can." Ryoma was consumed with the urgent business of a Satsuma-Choshu Alliance, and had no time to worry about petty squabbles among his men.
"Where's die ship now?" Ryoma asked Inoue, clapping his hands in excitement.
"In Shanghai. Glover is on his way right now to pick it up and bring it to Nagasaki. We can have it then." "You mean you bought a ship you haven't even seen yet?" "We saw a photograph," Inoue replied smugly. "But since we've dealt with Glover before, I assume we can trust him." "What's the ship's name?" Ryoma asked. "The Union.1"
"What does 'Union' mean?" Ryoma asked.
When Inoue explained the meaning of the English word, Ryoma clapped his hands together. "Perfect!" he said. "For the union between Choshu and Satsuma."
"Ah, yes," Inoue hesitated. Despite the recent goodwill displayed by Satsuma, even Inoue himself, who had been to Kagoshima twice, had an audience with the Satsuma daimyo, and played a vital role ill acquiring Satsuma support for Choshu, still retained feelings of mistrust for that han; albeit compared to most of their clansmen, he, Katsura and Ito had considerably changed their views toward Satsuma. "Although, the Union is made entirely of wood," Inoue said, "with war imminent, we can't be choosy, thought that as long as we can mount guns on it, to blow our enemies to hell, that's all that matters right now."
"Wood is fine," Ryoma said, "because there's not an iron-plated ship in die entire Tokugawa Navy."
"Here's the agreement we've drawn up with Glover," Inoue said, handing a document to Ryoma.
There were three main parts to the agreement, which Ryoma, after getting approval from Katsura, had dictated to Chojiro. The Union was to fly die Satsuma flag, in order to avoid trouble with Tokugawa officials in Nagasaki. The officers and the crew would consist of Kameyama Company employees, and when neither Choshu nor Satsuma needed the ship for war against the Tokugawa, Ryoma's company would have free access to it for business purposes. And so, the Union would actually belong to Choshu, be registered to Satsuma, and operated by the Kameyama Company, which meant that Ryoma's men finally had the use of a steamer, free of charge.
"How much did it cost?" Ryoma asked.
"Thirty-seven thousand ryo."
"You could buy a lot of sake for that amount," Ryoma said, roaring with laughter. "But considering its purpose, mat's not much to pay. If we can topple the Bakufu for thirty-seven thousand ryo, I'd say it's a very fair price."
* * *
"Damn it, Katsura-san! What more do you want?" Ryoma shouted, pounding his fist on his knee, not even trying to hide his anger. His forehead was drenched with sweat, despite the cold air, which turned his hot breath white in this now familiar room in the mansion of the Shimonoseki merchant, where over the past month he had met with Katsura on several occasions, each time pleading with him to travel to Kyoto to talk with Saigo. Ryoma stood up, walked over to the window, noticed that a light snow had begun falling on the Inland Sea. "It's cold for me end of November," he muttered, wrapped his faded, black cotton jacket tightly around his chest Ryoma turned around, looked hard at the most powerful man in Choshu Han. "Since Satsuma has done so much for Choshu, don't you think it's about time you get rid of your old attitude?"
"That's why we've agreed to send the rice," Katsura answered sharply.
"Exactly! And Saigo has expressed his gratitude for mat." Ryoma sat down next to Chojiro, whom he had recently summoned, partly to avoid trouble with me rest of die men in Nagasaki, partly because he needed someone to bring the Union to Shimonoseki. Ryoma and Chojiro had just returned from a short trip to Kyoto, where they had informed Saigo of Choshu's agreement to provide rice for Satsuma troops, and heard from him that Edo had just issued orders to thirty-one han, including Satsuma, to send armies to me Choshu borders. With war imminent, Ryoma and Chojiro returned directly to Shimonoseki aboard die Union to meet Katsura. "Choshu has been generous in offering rice to Satsuma," Ryoma said. "Now it's time for you to go a step further and visit Saigo in Kyoto."
Katsura released a heavy sigh, nodding slowly, an unpleasant look on his face.
"And real soon!" Ryoma shouted, hitting the floor with his fist "Because time is running out." Ryoma drained his sake cup, slammed it down on the my in front of rum, leaned over to reach for the flask, and poured drink for Chojiro, Katsura and another man with a badly pockmarked face "He right, the man said This was Takasugi Shinsaku, the founder of Choshu's crack Extraordinary Corps, and commander of the Loyalists in their victory against the Choshu conservatives earlier in the year. Ryoma had met Takasugi only once before, on the same evening he had first met Katsura seven years ago, when Hanpeita had urged him to "exchange ideas with men from Choshu." So much had happened since then-for himself, Tosa Choshu and Japan-and so many of his comrades had died, that it seemed to Ryoma a lifetime ago. At age twenty-six, Takasugi was now the most power-fill military leader in Choshu. "We must put our personal feelings aside, and not be afraid to act for the future of our han" Takasugi said. "It's up to you, Katsura-san, to set things straight with Saigo."
Katsura smiled bitterly. "Takasugi," he snickered, "I've never heard you speak so rationally. You of all people."
"We no longer have me luxury of choice," Takasugi said. "The Bakufu forces could attack at any time." He leaned over, grabbed Katsura by the wrist. "And although we have procured another warship, that is not going to be enough to stop the entire Tokugawa Navy. As Sakamoto-san says, if we don't form an alliance with Satsuma very soon, I'm afraid we will be defeated."
Although Ryoma had managed over the past year to bring Satsuma and Choshu this close to an alliance, neither Saigo nor Katsura had been willing to approach the other. But with the unexpected support of Takasugi, Ryoma now felt that Katsura would finally give in Ryoma was surprised at Takasugi's great influence over Katsura, who was, after all, the de facto leader of the Choshu government. And this despite Takasugi's reputation as an extremist, whose motto was "to think while on the run," and who had been described as "moving like a thunderbolt, with the energy of a rainstorm," while Katsura preferred careful contemplation before action.
"I've taken it upon myself to promise Saigo that you'd come to Kyoto,' Ryoma suddenly informed. "You've what?*' Katsura exploded.
"Ryoma has been pushing himself to the limit," Chojiro spoke up, "running between Kagoshima, Shimonoseki and Kyoto, going without sleep, and thinking nothing of himself. In all due respect, I think it's lime you made the next move."
"You don't understand." Katsura groaned, a dark expression on his face. "Neither of you do." "What don't we understand?" Ryoma said.
"Saigo!" Katsura hissed. "He's the one who went back on his word by not stopping here in the first place."
"Katsura-san," Ryoma said angrily, "you have to stop dwelling on that. You've gotten the rifles. You've gotten the ammunition. And you've gotten a warship."
"And a promise for a couple gunboats and some Armstrong guns from Glover," Chojiro added.
"Yes," Ryoma burst out. "All thanks to Satsuma."
"But can't you see that Choshu is in no position to approach Satsuma? We're the ones whose very survival is at stake, not Satsuma. If I went to Saigo, it would be like begging. And Choshu men would rather die fighting than beg for their lives."
"Of course we'd rather die than beg," Takasugi said. "But you yourself just said that the survival of Choshu is at stake. The time for hesitation is over. We must unite with Satsuma, because we have no other choice."
'Takasugi!" Katsura shouted angrily.
"I detested Satsuma for what they've done to Choshu as much as you or anyone else," the younger Choshu man said. "But you heard what Inoue said after returning from Kagoshima. About the sincerity of the Satsuma men, how we were wrong to continue calling them bandits and traitors. Katsura-san," Takasugi now raised his voice for the first time, "we must overcome our old feelings."
Ryoma threw his arms above his head in exasperation. "Do you trust me, Katsura-san?"
"Yes, of course."
'Then listen to what 1 say, and get your ass to Kyoto before it's too late." Takasugi flinched at Ryoma's choice of words, as Katsura returned the comment with an icy stare. "Katsura-san," Ryoma pleaded, "it's the only way."
"Alright!" Katsura shot back. "I'll leave immediately for Yamaguchi to see if I can persuade our lord to give me permission to meet Saigo." Katsura stared hard at Ryoma, his eyes filled with resolution. "But I won't be able to leave for Kyoto for at least two weeks."
"Good!" Ryoma roared, slapped the sullen Choshu man on the back. "1 knew that you of all men wouldn't let this chance go by. I'll inform Saigo right away to expect you."
"Nothing's been decided yet," Katsura said calmly. "First I have to get permission from our lord."
"I know," Ryoma said, then burst out laughing. "Katsura-san," he said, placing his hand on the shoulder of the most powerful man in Choshu Han, "we all know that if you want to go to Kyoto, then you will go to Kyoto." He emphasized these last words. "But," he added gravely, "be very careful in Kyoto. I'm sure you knew better than me. Kyoto is filled with ronin-hunters and other Bakufu agents looking for Choshu samurai."
Katsura nodded grimly.
"Which reminds me, Sakamoto-san," Takasugi addressed Ryoma for the first time, then drew a revolver from inside his kimono. "I want you to have this for protection, and as a small token of appreciation from Choshu." He handed Ryoma the revolver and a box of shells.
Takasugi had purchased this Smith and Wesson, Model No. 2, rim-fire -revolver in Shanghai. It held six 22-caliber rounds which could be fired continuously, and were loaded into a removable cylinder, which Ryoma now spun, wild-eyed, like a child playing with a much longed-after toy. “Is it loaded?” he asked, gripping the dark brown wooden handle in his right hand.
“I think so," Takasugi said.
Ryoma stood up, walked over to the window. "It's funny," he said, cocking the hammer, closing one eye, and taking careful aim at the sky. "All those years we've spent practicing with the sword, when this thing is so much easier to use, and more effective too." Ryoma fired a shot. "It is loaded!" he roared. "I'm sure it will come in very useful someday."
Ryoma and Chojiro stood on the bridge of the small British-built warship, the Satsuma flag flying from the mainmast, in the late afternoon of their second day out from Shimonoseki. "Cheer up," Ryoma said, conning the ship across the shimmering sapphire surface of the Sea of Genkai, unable to share his friend's ill feelings over an ordeal they had had just before leaving Choshu. Despite the agreement between lnoue and Chojiro, the Choshu naval office demanded that since the Union was owned by Choshu it must be commanded by Choshu officers, and not men of the Kameyama Company. Although Chojiro was furious at what he claimed was a breach of contract, Ryoma appeased him by arranging for the two of them to command the Union to Nagasaki, under the grounds that the amount of purchase had still not been paid for by Choshu. The man who had brought Choshu and Satsuma this far toward a grand compromise was not about to let something so trivial as the command of a single warship jeopardize the very future of Japan. Ryoma knew how temperamental me Choshu men could be, and wanted to avoid friction with them at any cost, particularly now that he had finally convinced Katsura to meet Saigo. "We still have the use of this ship for business purposes, and for something even more important."
"Which is?" Chojiro asked.
"War!" roared Ryoma, as if eager for the fighting to begin. "The Bakufu troops should be attacking Choshu any time now. They'll be coming by land from the east, but by sea from the west. That means they'll have to cross Shimonoseki Strait from Kokura Han, and when they do, we'll be there waiting to blow them straight to hell."
"With this ship?"
"Yes. What do you think those cannon are for?" Ryoma pointed at the guns mounted along the gunwales.
"But Sakamoto-san..." Chojiro said apprehensively.
"What's the matter, Mr. Bean Jam Bun Maker?" Ryoma goaded.
"I don't know how to fight."
"What do you mean, you don't know how to fight? You learned how to fire a cannon at the academy in Kobe, right? You learned how to operate a warship, right? Katsu-sensei taught you everything he knows about naval science-navigation, shipbuilding, mechanics, ballistics..."
"And sounding," Chojiro added.
"Yes, sounding too."
"I know, but..."
"But what?"
"Sakamoto-san, you don't understand. 1 guess I know how to fight, but I'm not sure that I'm suited for it."
"Suited for it?" Ryoma gave Chojiro a hard look.
"Yes. For war."
"But you are, Chojiro! As much as any of us."
"But I'm from a merchant family. I'm not a samurai."
"Chojiro!" Ryoma shouted, "don't degrade the merchants. There's no difference between merchants and samurai, or peasants, or anyone else. What matters is what you have here," Ryoma said, grabbing his friend's arm, "and up here," he pointed at Chojiro's head, "and most of all in here," he jabbed his finger in Chojiro's gut. "It's up to men like you and me to change things. Why do you think we're struggling so hard to overthrow the Bakufu?"
"I see," Chojiro said.
"It's the whole rotten feudal system that's been keeping us down. We must get rid of it, and replace it with a democratic form of government, whereby everyone is equal."
Chojiro shook his head; he had never seen Ryoma so excited. "Of course," he said.
"Good! Because unless we respect ourselves as merchants..."
"But Sakamoto-san, you're not a merchant. You're a samurai."
"Don't be an idiot, Chojiro," Ryoma groaned. "What about the Kameyama Company? We're all merchants, everyone of us."
"I see," Chojiro said.
"And we're samurai also. Chojiro, if you don't respect yourself as a merchant, how can you ever expect to gain the respect of others?" Ryoma was referring to his men in Nagasaki, all of whom, with the exception of Umanosuke, were of the samurai class. "You can fight. If I can fight, you can fight."
"What are the chances of dying in battle?" Chojiro asked.
"I don't know. All I can tell you is that if you die, well then you die. It's a matter of fate, I suppose. But if you spend your whole life afraid of dying, you'll never get anything accomplished."
"I see," Chojiro said, nodding grimly. "But it seems so ironic."
"What seems ironic?"
"That we should be fighting against the Tokugawa Navy."
"What are you talking about?"
"Well, wasn't it the commissioner of the Tokugawa Navy who taught us how to fight aboard ship?"
Chojiro couldn't have stunned Ryoma more if he had struck him across the face with an iron bar. "Of course," Ryoma introspected, turning the other way so that his friend might not read his thoughts. The idea had never crossed his mind, but now he realized that there was a very good possibility that Katsu Kaishu would be recalled from forced retirement to command the Tokugawa naval forces in the expedition against Choshu. "Anyone else the whole damn world," Ryoma agonized to himself. "But I just don't ha it in me to fight against Katsu Kaishu."
On the following afternoon Ryoma stood alone on the bridge, conning the Union through the calm waters of Nagasaki Bay, in which were moored foreign ships and Japanese junks. The Western-style houses along the coast, the green bills rolling beyond, reminded him of his first visit here with Kaishu "Has it only been a year and a half?" he thought sadly. "So much has happened since then." The faces of his friends who had died in Kyoto and Kochi during that time flashed through his mind, and his eyes filled with tears. "Satsuma and Choshu are about to unite to bring down the Bakufu," he said aloud. "After that the entire nation will unite. We'll fortify ourselves with a powerful navy by which Japan will be a force to be reckoned with."
With the decline of Tokugawa authority, which accompanied me liberalization of me Port of Nagasaki to foreign trade, die city had transformed into a political void. Certainly there was no other city in Japan from which a group of outlaws could operate their own shipping company, and even run guns to Choshu. Recently, some of die wealthier han had begun taking advantage of this unprecedented opportunity to purchase foreign goods by establishing branches in Nagasaki to deal directly with foreign traders. Some of them, like Satsuma, were even openly purchasing warships, guns and ammunition, and it was on this very point which Ryoma had based his entire plan to unite Satsuma and Choshu.
He was anxious to see company headquarters for the first time, to visit Satsuma Councilor Komatsu Tatewaki, and to meet die Scottish arms merchant Thomas Glover. Komatsu had recently written him about another warship, die Werewolf, that Glover was offering for sale. Since the Kameyama Company was still without sufficient capital, Komatsu offered to pay for most of die ship, a British schooner which was even smaller man the Union.
"At this point we can't be choosy," Ryoma reprimanded Taro later that afternoon when his nephew complained that the ship was not a steamer. "Komatsu has promised me that, unlike the Union, the Werewolf will be for our exclusive use." Ryoma and Chojiro had just arrived at company headquarters, located near die top of the hills to the east of the city. "So this is it!" Ryoma said, a little surprised by the smallness of the place. "But it will do." He was glad to be reunited with his men, whom, aside from Chojiro, he had not seen since they had left Kagoshima together over a half year ago. Headquarters consisted of a plain one-story wooden house, with a black tile roof, which Kosone Eishiro, the younger son of the wealthy merchant family, had recently purchased for the company. Inside were two small rooms, which used to be a storehouse for so-called Kameyama Porcelain when a nearby kiln was in use.
All eight men-Ryoma, Chojiro, Taro, Toranosuke, Umanosuke, Yonosuke, Sonojo and a very young ronin from Nagaoka Han by the name of Shiramine Shunme-sat in a circle in one of the rooms. "Shun," Ryoma chaffed, "do all men from Nagaoka look so good in white?" Ryoma had decided that all of his men would wear a white hakama, the color of navy uniforms in Europe and America.
At age eighteen, Shunme had replaced Yonosuke as the youngest of the group. He had left his Tokugawa-hereditary han when he was just fifteen to stay with his elder brother in Edo, and shortly after entered the Bakufu's Naval Training Institute. Shunme had first met Ryoma three years ago, while sailing from Edo to Osaka aboard the Jundo Maru. Shunme had joined Kaishu's academy in Kobe, but returned to Edo when it was closed down, and had only recently rejoined the others in Nagasaki. Despite his youth, Shunme knew more about operating a ship than anyone else in the company, with the exception of Chief Navigator Chiya Toranosuke.
"Since this is our first meeting as a company," Ryoma said, "I have some important things to discuss with you. I want to set up a branch office in Shimonoseki." It had recently occurred to Ryoma that the prices of commodities varied between eastern and western Japan, and that Shimonoseki was the dividing line where these prices were determined. "Prices are decided by supply and demand," he explained. "If we have an office in Shimonoseki, with die cooperation of Choshu officials, we can see exactly what goods are being shipped into the east and into the west. Then we can measure the supply against the demand, and so be able to know prices in advance. Once we know that..."
"We'll know which products will bring in the largest profits," Yonosuke said.
"Exactly!" Ryoma smiled. "And in so doing, we can't help but make money. I've already discussed this with some of the Choshu men, and been introduced to a wealthy merchant in Shimonoseki who is willing to let us use his place as an office."
"That's a great idea," Chojiro said, his eyes slightly downcast. "But why didn't you mention it to me earlier?"
"Because I wanted all of you to hear about the plan together."
"I see," Chojiro said with a shrug, drawing dirty looks from several of the others.
Ryoma continued. "Of course, we'll also set up an office in Osaka. I'm sure we can arrange for the use of some space in die Satsuma trading agency there. Before long I expect the Kameyama Company to accumulate more wealth than most of the han. And that includes Tosa," Ryoma sneered. "With that, and the power behind a Satsuma-Choshu Alliance, we can overthrow the Bakufu and establish one strong centralized nation. Then we'll be able to go wherever we want, whenever we want. We can sad all over die world. But enough of business for now. Tonight I want to celebrate. I have some extra money, and I hear that die Nagasaki women are nice." Takasugi had given Ryoma die generous sum of 100 ryo before he had left Shimonoseki. "This is a small token of Choshu's appreciation for everything you've done," Takasugi had said. Then with a fiendish smile, "But you had better use it well, Sakamoto-san. And I know of no better place in all of Japan to spend
this money than at the House of the Flower Moon in Nagasaki's Maruyama
district. J "
I'd like to celebrate,*' Taro said, but I have some important paperwork to finish."
"So do I," Yonosuke said. "With the Werewolf 'deal coming up..."
"Alright!" Ryoma said. "Who can take one night off to celebrate my homecoming?"
"Homecoming?" Umanosuke asked.
"Put it this way, other than the Teradaya, this is the first place I've been since we lost the Kobe academy that I can somehow consider home. Now who will it be?"
"I'll celebrate with you," Umanosuke offered.
"I will too," Sonojo said.
"Alright." Ryoma put his hand on Chojiro's shoulder. "With the bean jam bun maker's son, that makes four of us. Now, let's go."
"If there were no Maruyama in Nagasaki, all the gold and silver from Kyoto and Osaka would return safely home," bantered a popular seventeenth-century novelist. And two centuries later, when Ryoma and his men visited Maruyama, it was said that here "the fragrance of musk and orchids fills the soul with lust, the swishing of fine silk enraptures the ears."
Four men dressed in navy whites, with swords at their left hips, walked down a dark narrow street, their elevated wooden clogs making a low-pitched chafing sound against the stone pavement, then a heavy thumping noise as they crossed the Bridge of Reflection, on the other side of which lay paradise for any man with gold in his pocket. The light from hundreds of red lanterns hanging from the eaves of the magnificent two-storied pleasure palaces lining both sides of the street illuminated the night.
Soon they reached the House of the Flower Moon, where Ryoma had drank French wine with Kaishu in the Chinese Room. They approached the wooden outer gate, above which hung a huge red paper lantern, displaying the name of the establishment in black Chinese characters. In the front garden they were greeted by a maid, who led them into the house, down a long dark corridor, and into a spacious tatami room overlooking a wide garden. Soon several geisha joined them, sake was poured, and before long the room had become a scene of bacchanalian pleasure.
"How about playing something?" Ryoma said to the girl sitting next to him. She had pretty features: a perfectly shaped nose, small black eyes and a round mouth.
"How about singing something?" the girl replied coyly. She took up the moon guitar which lay beside her, and with a pick strummed the four strings over the round wooden body, "What's your name?" Ryoma asked. "Omoto." Ryoma had heard the name from Takasugi. "The beautiful Maruyama geisha who men can't help but fall for," Takasugi had described her, adding, "but she rarely gives in to men."
"Do you know this song?" Ryoma asked. "The beginning of the Year of the Tiger, 1854..." he recited the first line of a song he had heard in Shimonoseki. During the more than two centuries that Nagasaki had been open only to Dutch and Chinese traders, the clans of Hizen and Chikuzen shared the burden of guarding the port from intervention by ships from other countries. This was until the completion of the foreign treaties in the intercalary year of 1854. The Russian Admiral Poutiatine had led four warships into Nagasaki in December 1853 in hopes that his country might be die first to sign a treaty with Japan. Unable to obtain permission to land, die Russian squadron spent a month anchored near an offshore island, eventually leaving the port in January, which was during Hizen's watch. This short song makes fun of the Russian's folly.
Omoto laughed. "I should say so. The song was originated in Nagasaki. Now it's your turn."
"I'm waiting for you to start playing," Ryoma roared, draining his sake cup.
"No, I mean, it's your turn to tell me your name."
"Sakamoto Ryoma, from Tosa," he said, men to Umanosuke, who sat directly across the table, "How about taking your eyes off the girl for a while and listening to this?" Ryoma began singing again, as Omoto played the moon guitar.
"The beginning of the Year of the Tiger, 1854. We 're drinking New Year's sake, Getting drunk, drunk, drunk."
"Very good," Umanosuke slurred. "I'll sing the second verse," he said, his face bright red from drink. "There are thirteen months this year, Hizen's turn at watch. They say the Russians are floating aimlessly off of Jogashima Island.'"
As Umanosuke finished singing, everyone burst out laughing.
"Won't you take me for a walk in the garden?" Omoto whispered to Ryoma.
"Yes," Ryoma said, determined to possess this beauty who rarely gave in to men.