The Periodical Press in Treaty-Port Japan : Conflicting Reports from Yokohama, 1861-1870 [1 ed.] 9789004243132, 9789004233652

Citation preview

The Periodical Press in Treaty-Port Japan

The Periodical Press in Treaty-Port Japan Conflicting Reports From Yokohama, 1861–1870

By

Todd S. Munson

LEIDEN • BOSTON 2013

Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data Munson, Todd S. The periodical press in treaty-port Japan : conflicting reports from Yokohama, 1861-1870 / by Todd S. Munson. pages cm Includes bibliographical references and index. ISBN 978-90-04-23365-2 (hardback : alk. paper) -- ISBN 978-90-04-24313-2 (ebook) (print) 1. Japanese periodicals--History--19th century. 2. Yokohama-shi (Japan)--History--19th century. I. Title. Z186.J3M86 2013 050.952--dc23 2012036709

This publication has been typeset in the multilingual “Brill” typeface. With over 5,100 characters covering Latin, IPA, Greek, and Cyrillic, this typeface is especially suitable for use in the humanities. For more information, please see www.brill.com/brill-typeface. ISBN 978-90-04-23365-2 (hardback) ISBN 978-90-04-24313-2 (e-book) Copyright 2013 by Koninklijke Brill NV, Leiden, The Netherlands. Koninklijke Brill NV incorporates the imprints Brill, Global Oriental, Hotei Publishing, IDC Publishers and Martinus Nijhoff Publishers. All rights reserved. No part of this publication may be reproduced, translated, stored in a retrieval system, or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise, without prior written permission from the publisher. Authorization to photocopy items for internal or personal use is granted by Koninklijke Brill NV provided that the appropriate fees are paid directly to The Copyright Clearance Center, 222 Rosewood Drive, Suite 910, Danvers, MA 01923, USA. Fees are subject to change. This book is printed on acid-free paper.

For my parents, Bruce and Barbara Munson

CONTENTS List of Illustrations

ix

Introduction: Yokohama and the Periodical Press

1

1. Joseph Heco and the Kaigai Shinbun

15

2. The Fin De Siècle Press: Bankoku Shinbunshi and Yokohama Shinpō Moshiogusa

37

3. Albert W. Hansard and the Japan Herald: Conflict, Controversy, and the “Inside Story”

67

4. “A Sojourner Amongst Us”: Charles Wirgman and the Japan Punch

93

5. The Strange Case of “Fisher vs. Rickerby”: Press, Scandal, and Satire in Treaty-Port Japan

127

Conclusion155 Bibliography

161

Index

169

LIST OF ILLUSTRATIONS 1–1.  Front cover of Kaigai Shinbun 2–1.  Charles Wirgman illustration from Bankoku Shinbunshi (April 1869) 2–2.  Illustration from Bankoku Shinbunshi (May 1869) 2–3.  Illustration from Moshiogusa (July 24, 1868) 2–4.  Illustration from Moshiogusa (January 28, 1869) 4–1.  Front cover of the Japan Punch 4–2.  First page of the Japan Punch (1862) 4–3.  Illustration from the Japan Punch (1862) 4–4.  Illustration from the Japan Punch (1862) 4–5.  Illustration from the Japan Punch (1862) 4–6.  Illustration from the Japan Punch (1862) 4–7.  Illustration from the Japan Punch (1866) 4–8.  Illustration from the Japan Punch (1866) 4–9.  Illustration from the Japan Punch (1865) 4–10. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1866) 4–11. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1867) 4–12. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1865) 4–13. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1866) 4–14. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1866) 4–15. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1868) 4–16. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1868) 4–17. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1868) 4–18. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1868) 5–1.  Illustration from the Japan Punch (1865) 5–2.  Illustration from the Japan Punch (1865) 5–3.  Illustration from the Japan Punch (1865) 5–4.  Illustration from the Japan Punch (1865) 5–5.  Illustration from the Japan Punch (1865)

22 48 49 58 61 96 97 98 98 100 101 105 107 108 110 112 114 116 117 120 122 122 124 147 148 149 150 151

INTRODUCTION

YOKOHAMA AND THE PERIODICAL PRESS On the evening of June 30, 1859, Eugene Van Reed and Joseph Heco arrived in Yokohama Harbor on board the Wanderer, a small sailing vessel. The son of a California gold-dust broker and real-estate agent, Van Reed first chanced to meet the former Japanese castaway (then still using his original name Hamada Hikozō) in San Francisco in 1853.1 Though the two soon parted ways, they met again in Hawaii in 1858 while awaiting passage to Japan. Van Reed, intrigued by the commercial possibilities in the orient, had been hired by the American trading firm Augustine Heard and Co., while Heco had signed on as an interpreter at the American Consulate in Kanagawa. Within mere months of his arrival, Van Reed had established himself as a veteran “Japan hand,” establishing private business deals with the domains of Echizen and Satsuma, publishing a Japanese grammar book, maintaining two residences in the foreign settlement, and becoming the subject of more than one Japanese woodblock print.2 By 1865 he had, improbably, sought and secured employment as the Japanese consul general of the Kingdom of Hawaii, overseeing the forced immigration of approximately 150 Japanese laborers to the Hawaiian Islands. In addition to these commercial and diplomatic activities, Van Reed found time to publish a Japanese-language newspaper, Yokohama Shinpō Moshiogusa (“Yokohama News Anthology”), which ran for the three years. He died in 1873 at age thirty-eight, while en route to the United States to seek treatment for his chronic tuberculosis.

1 The primary English-language source of information on this understudied figure is Albert A. Altman, “Eugene Van Reed, Reading Man in Japan,” in Historical Review of Berks County 30.1 (winter 1964–1965), pp. 6–12, 27–31. In Japanese, see Itō Hisako 伊藤久子, “Ishoku no kyoryūchi gaikokujin Buan Rīdo 異色の居留地外国人ヴァンリード,” in Kaikō no hiroba 開港のひろば no. 10 (February 1, 1985), p. 51; and “Buan Rīdo wa ‘akutokushōnin’ nanoka ヴァンリードは ‘悪徳商人’ なのか,” in Yokohama kyoryūchi to ibunka kōryū 横浜居留地と異文化交流, ed. Yokohama Kaikō Shiryōkan 横浜開港資料館 et al. (Yamakawa Shuppansha 山川出版社, 1996), pp. 119–157. 2 See, for example, Anne Yonemura, Yokohama: Prints from Nineteenth-Century Japan (Washington, D.C.: Smithsonian Institution Press, 1990), p. 104.

2

introduction

The life of the Hamada followed a different trajectory, but one that stopped along many of the same points.3 Born near Kobe in 1837, Hamada was lost at sea at age thirteen, after his stepfather’s ship was caught in a storm. After two months adrift, the castaways were rescued by an American merchant vessel and deposited safely in San Francisco. The American government used their repatriation as a pretense to open trade negotiations, and plans were subsequently undertaken to return Heco and his companions on board Commodore Perry’s “black ships.” Upon arrival at Hong Kong, however, Heco opted not to go forward—his inadvertent violation of the Japan’s seclusion policy may have meant the death penalty, after all—and went back to California. He then spent several eventful years in the United States, during which time he was baptized a Christian, became a naturalized citizen, mastered the English language, met two presidents (Franklin Pierce and James Buchanan), and adopted the name of “Joseph Heco.” By 1859, he was ready to begin a new adventure and once again set sail for Japan. Shortly after his arrival in Yokohama, however, Heco realized that years of exposure to foreign culture had made him a target of sonnō jōi (“revere the emperor, expel the barbarian”) terrorists, so he decided to return to America in 1861. “It was a well-ascertained fact that several ronin deemed me worth of their attention, and were on the outlook for me to cut me down,” he noted in the September 16, 1861, entry of his English-language biography.4 Heco spent another full year in the United States, meeting a third president (“[Lincoln] was tall, lean, with large hands”), then came to Japan to stay in 1863. While pursuing business ventures in Yokohama, he founded the first true Japanese periodical, the Kaigai Shinbun (“Overseas News”), in 1865. Compiled with the help of assistants—Heco could speak Japanese, but not read or write the language—the Kaigai Shinbun boasted a mix of international news, American history, and passages from the Old Testament. Heco published his newspaper in Yokohama until January 1867, when commercial interests drew him to Nagasaki, Kobe, and eventually Tokyo, where he lived quietly until his death in 1897.

3 In contrast to Eugene Van Reed, Heco’s life has been well chronicled by scholars, foremost among them Chikamori Haruyoshi 近盛晴嘉; his Josefu Hiko ジョセフ＝ヒコ (Yoshikawa kōbunkan 吉川弘文館, 1963) has assumed the position of standard biography. Heco himself wrote two autobiographies, one in each of his languages. In English, see his two-volume Narrative of a Japanese, ed. James Murdoch (San Francisco: Japanese Publishing Association, 1950); in Japanese, see “Amerika Hikozō hyōryūki アメリカ彦蔵漂 流記,” in Kinsei hyōryūki shū 近世漂流記集, ed. Arakawa Hidetoshi 荒川秀俊 (Hōsei Daigaku Shuppankyoku 法政大学出版局, 1969), pp. 233–283. 4 Ibid., p. 278.



yokohama and the periodical press 3

This study is not a biography, and these figures have not been sketched as part of a larger study of the pioneers of early Yokohama—valuable a subject though that might be. Rather, I have elected to introduce them here because they so aptly reflect the issues under consideration in this book, which is an analytical survey of the periodical press of bakumatsu Yokohama. In the lives of these two men, we witness in small the invariably intercultural nature of imperialism. Their narratives are illustrative of the then-emerging cultural, social, and/or economic globalisms that have become so common in our twenty-first century. Van Reed and Heco made homes, friends, careers, and fortunes at opposite ends of the globe in the course of their lives: Van Reed as entrepreneur, diplomat, and publisher in San Francisco, Honolulu, and Yokohama; Heco as bilingual journalist, public servant, and international businessman. As both men maneuvered between cultures and languages, so too did they innovate uses of print media during their stay in Yokohama, at a time when that community was expanding and defining itself as Japan’s most cosmopolitan entrepôt. Their newspapers provided Japan with a new arena for the timely exchange of ideas, opinion, and fact at a critical juncture in that country’s history. And while both Van Reed and Heco played crucial roles in Yokohama’s development as a seedbed of the periodical press, they were only two of many such publisher/editor/journalists, among them Albert Hansard, of the English-language Japan Herald; Kishida Ginkō, of the Shinbunshi and Yokohama Shinpō Moshiogusa; the Reverend M. Buckworth Bailey, of the Japanese Bankoku Shinbunshi; and the satirist and illustrator Charles Wirgman, whose Japan Punch frequently took Yokohama’s periodical press as its satirical subject. In Chapters One and Two of this book, I pursue a close reading of the three Japanese-language newspapers published in Yokohama by foreigners, pursuing issues of authorship, tone, audience, and agenda. Falling as it did between the cracks of control—a factor of the settlement’s extraterritorial privileges, as well as the waning influence of the Tokugawa state— the Yokohama community arrogated unto itself an unprecedented degree of press freedom in the 1860s, making it perhaps the most open and eclectic publishing locale in Asia. Unfettered by legal barriers, these newspapers espoused the tenets of “civilization and enlightenment” during the waning years of the Tokugawa shogunate. Modern technology, international diplomacy, and even the history of Christianity were all given ample space in their pages (pages, it should be noted, that were actually published and distributed to a consumer audience, not furtively recopied in some scholar’s library). As such, these sources mark quite a contrast to the

4

introduction

proclamations emanating from the imperial court during the decade of the 1860s, to say nothing of the “expel-the-barbarian rhetoric” espoused by xenophobic samurai intent upon driving the foreigners out of Japan at all costs. Chapter One examines the careers of Joseph Heco and Kishida Ginkō, from their earliest efforts to the landmark Kaigai Shinbun of 1865. As we shall see, the Kaigai Shinbun was no simple newspaper, but a fascinating digest of technology, religion, history, and international affairs. Chapter Two carries Kishida’s story forward to his partnership with Eugene Van Reed. Their Yokohama Shinpō Moshiogusa ran from 1868 to 1870 and boasted political cartoons, essays on foreign policy, and special reports from Hawaii, among other unusual features. This chapter shares its focus with another “multinational” publication, the Reverend M. Buckworth Bailey’s Bankoku Shinbunshi (“News of the World”), and explores Bailey’s efforts to bridge the gap between the Europeans and the Japanese. Chapters Three through Five explore the world of Japan’s nascent English-language media—the Japan Herald, the Japan Times, and the satirical illustrated journal Japan Punch—with an eye toward synchronicity and context. Whereas most studies in Japanese media history have tended to focus on institutional development—looking backward, with the telos of the modern newspaper foremost in mind—here we focus on periodical press as its readership “on the ground” would have understood it: as a community of fiercely independent, idiosyncratic vehicles of expression, freed not only from the restraints of government interference, but also from the bounds of convention and occasionally even good taste.5 In his masterful study of the Meiji Period press, James Huffman notes that “the press … is a narrator, a storyteller whose decisions about what to ignore and what to include do far more to shape our vision of public reality than most of us realize.”6 In this section we will trace the emergence of the English-language press in a time of conflict and confusion, excitement and fear—and in so doing follow the narratives vying to represent the “public reality” of Yokohama and Japan.

5 The literature on the history of Japanese newspapers is voluminous; interested readers may begin with the works of Ono Hideo 小野秀雄. For a representative English work, see D. Eleanor Westney, Imitation and Innovation: The Transfer of Western Organizational Patterns in Meiji Japan (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1987). 6 James L. Huffman, Creating a Public: People and Press in Meiji Japan (Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1997), p. 6.



yokohama and the periodical press 5

Chapter Three introduces the English-language newspapers of bakumatsu Japan.7 In contrast to their Japanese language counterparts, Yokohama’s English-language papers embraced the rhetoric of rivalry; the internecine squabbling of the Japan Herald, Japan Commercial News, and Japan Express fostered divisiveness among their audiences as much as they fostered any sense of community. These newspapers maintained no pretense of impartiality, but rather flaunted their subjectivity in order to establish identities and generate sales. As Michael Schudson noted in his study of the American press, “objectivity is a peculiar demand” to make of institutions that are “dedicated to economic survival,” and the Yokohama press was no exception.8 Chapter Four turns to the early years of the Japan Punch, a satirical journal written and illustrated by Charles Wirgman from 1862 to 1887. By the end of its long run, the Punch had made Wirgman a local celebrity and a beloved figure in Yokohama, and to have been caricatured in its pages became something of an honor. The early years of the journal, however, were another matter altogether—its pages became filled with the kind of scathing criticism, witty insults, and insider jokes that render the texts nearly indecipherable today. Accordingly, most modernday attention to the Japan Punch has focused on the function of Wirgman’s drawings as windows onto early Yokohama life, but it will be the task of this chapter to revive his long-dormant social and political commentary. Chapter Five brings the book to a close with a fascinating court case deeply rooted in the 1860s Yokohama mediascape, involving not just the Japan Punch but also the two English-language newspapers printed in the settlement, the Japan Herald and the Japan Times. Before we proceed to a short history of the Yokohama settlement, a few caveats are in order regarding this study. First, although a nascent periodical press did briefly exist in Edo during the late 1860s, it has been exhaustively written about by others and will not be treated here.9 An exclusive focus on Yokohama will allow us to see the settlement refracted through

7 There were no Chinese-, Dutch-, French-, Russian-, or German-language newspapers or magazines published during our period. George Bigot’s Tobaé—Journal Satirique was the first non-Japanese/non-English periodical in Japan, and it did not debut until 1887. 8 See Discovering the News: A Social History of American Newspapers (New York: Basic Books, 1978), p. 3. 9 See Altman, “Shinbunshi: The Early Meiji Adaptation of the Western-Style Newspaper,” in Modern Japan: Aspects of History, Literature, and Society, ed. W.G. Beasley (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1975), pp. 59–60. Also Ono Hideo, Nihon shinbun hattatsu shi 日本新聞発達史 (Osaka Mainichi Shinbun-sha 大阪毎日新聞社, 1922), p. 26.

6

introduction

the prism of its media culture: the conflict, dissention, hopes, and fears of a community geographically bound on all sides by water, but culturally and politically held together by only the most tenuous of connections. Second, although the history of the Japanese news media (and that of Japan’s treaty port press) obviously extends well beyond the 1860s, I have chosen the endpoint of 1870 for two reasons. First, the end of the Tokugawa period marks an obvious historical transition than cannot be ignored. More importantly for our purposes, however, by 1870 a moment had clearly passed in the history of Japan’s periodical press, as Yokohama no longer stood alone as a foreign enclave. Osaka, Niigata, Kobe, and Edo had opened to foreign residence in 1868–1869, and within months each boasted English-language newspapers of their own. At the same time, Japaneselanguage newspapers—after their own short bloom in Edo/Tokyo in the spring and summer of 1868—found themselves subject to new, restrictive press regulations, as the power vacuum created by the fall of the Tokugawa was replaced by the efficient bureaucracy of the Meiji state. A moment had passed. Yokohama—A Brief History of the First Decade Although the tale of Commodore Matthew Perry’s mission to “open” Japan to foreign trade in the 1850s has been told several times over, the port of Yokohama is less familiar to Western audiences. Yokohama, meaning “beach that juts out sideways,” was originally a small fishing village of some eighty households, perched on a narrow sandbar some thirty kilometers south of Edo. Perhaps presaging its role as an international trading hub, the village had long enjoyed a connection to global trade: its primary crop of sea cucumbers was sent to Edo, Nagasaki, and finally China. The crisis of the 1850s forever changed the area, as the villages whose families had farmed and fished there for generations were promptly evicted and replaced by shogunate officials, Japanese merchants, and eventually foreigners themselves. On the heels of the Perry mission of 1853–1854, the Japanese government ordered an end to its isolationist prohibition against the construction of seagoing vessels and established a shipyard in Yokohama in 1854 for the building of a warship built along western lines. Bakufu administrators often visited the area in order to monitor construction, and in 1857 Iwase Tadanari—impressed by the area’s deep-water bay—recommended it be



yokohama and the periodical press 7

chosen as the port stipulated by the treaty agreement.10 He argued that a port that was close—but not too close—to the Shogun’s city of Edo would be of great economic benefit to the city, as otherwise wealth might drain away to Osaka. American consul Townsend Harris, who had arrived in Japan in 1856, was given the task of encouraging the Japanese to sign a commercial treaty with the United States. Without the benefit of a large fleet offshore to back him up—such as the one Perry enjoyed while negotiating the initial agreement a few years earlier—Harris was made to wait over two years before the bakufu agreed to sign a commercial treaty with the United States. The resulting Treaty of Amity and Commerce (1858) allowed for the setting of tariffs and import duties, the formal exchange of diplomatic representatives, and the eventual opening of several ports for trade and residence by American citizens, who would in addition enjoy the right of extraterritoriality.11 Foreigners would not be able to own land and would only be permitted to travel a “walking distance” of approximately twenty-five miles without special permission. These treaty rights were soon thereafter extended to the Netherlands, Great Britain, France, and Russia. Harris did not consider Yokohama a promising location for a port. Rather, his preference was for Kanagawa, a post station along the busy Tokaido highway leading to Edo. In advance of the July 1, 1859, commencement date, he moved from his remote outpost on Shimoda and opened up an American Consulate there, as did the British minister.12 While the diplomats were settling into Kanagawa, however, the bakufu—following Iwase’s recommendation—had been constructing piers, a custom-house, and rental units for foreigners across the bay. When the first American merchants made anchor on June 30, they found that Yokohama offered everything they needed and quickly settled there. The fact that the port offered a deep anchorage close to shore helped to convince any doubters,

10 Yokohama Past and Present, ed. Katō Yūzō 加藤祐三 (Yokohama City University, 1990), p. 34. The finished ship, the Asahi-maru, was never seaworthy, and it fully earned its nickname “troublesome ship” (Yakkai-maru). 11 All seven cities did not open en masse in 1859; in fact, Edo and Osaka were not officially opened to foreign residence until after the Tokugawa government had lost control over those areas in 1868. 12 The original date was set for American Independence Day (July 4), but because a later treaty that the bakufu concluded with Russia stipulated an opening date of July 1, the Americans demanded that the earlier date be extended to them as well.

8

introduction

and within days the shift from Kanagawa was a fait accompli—for all save Harris, who refused to ever set foot in Yokohama (and never did). Yokohama was envisioned as a new kind of settlement, with its buildings “laid out like spaces on a Japanese chessboard,” in the words of resident Morookaya Ihee.13 Near the shoreline, at the center of the settlement, was a custom-house, several administrative offices, and two piers. The location of this cluster of buildings symbolically conveyed the message that Yokohama was both a place of commerce as well as an area under strict control of the Tokugawa government. As viewed from the bay, the area to the west of the custom-house compound was reserved for the foreign settlement, while the land to the east was for the exclusive use of the Japanese community. The entire area was surrounded by water on all four sides, as a canal had been dug in order to connect the river at the boundary of the foreign settlement with an estuary that bordered the Japanese quarter. The fact that Yokohama had been, in effect, transformed into an artificial island was not lost on Francis Hall, an early resident familiar with the Tokugawa government’s policy of quarantining the Dutch on the manmade island of Deshima (also known as Dejima): “once all the foreigners are removed from Kanagawa, the Japanese will do all they dare to keep us off from the Tokaido and Desimate us at Yokohama.”14 The only way to enter Yokohama by land was by one of two (later four) bridges, each of which housed a guard post that ensured that no arms were brought inside. “It goes without saying,” Morookaya adds, “that members of the warrior class, when they arrive to gawk at people from foreign countries, are strictly prohibited from wearing their swords.”15 In order to ensure sufficient commercial interest in the settlement, the shogunate required large merchant houses to lease land and establish branches in Yokohama. The House of Mitsui, Japan’s largest and richest trading firm, was ordered to build a store in Honchō 2-chōme by the magistrate of foreign affairs in 1859. The shop primarily sold textiles and provided money-exchange services. In all, a total of thirty-four Edo merchant houses set up branch shops in Yokohama, in addition to twelve from Kanagawa and six from Hodogaya. The bakufu also began accepting 13 Kinkōdō Morookaya Ihee 錦港堂師岡屋伊兵衛, Minato no hana Yokohama kidan みなとのはな横浜奇談 (n.p., ca. 1862–1863), p. 9. 14 Notehelfer, F.G., ed., Japan Through American Eyes: The Journal of Francis Hall, Kanagawa and Yokohama, 1859–1866, by Francis Hall (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992), p. 392; “Deshima” was an alternate rendering of “Dejima,” hence Hall’s wordplay of “desimate” for “decimate.” 15 Ibid., p. 12.



yokohama and the periodical press 9

applications from the general public for spaces in the native district, requiring prospective merchants to provide the shop’s name, owner’s hometown, and type of merchandise to be sold.16 Successful applicants leased their land from the bakufu directly, built shops and warehouses at their own expense, and thereafter paid a yearly fee to the bakufu. The number of applicants soon reached a hundred, exceeding the expectations of the government, and by April of 1859, the bakufu announced that all the land was gone. The transitional nature of many of these early merchants is revealed by their applications. Many had no real prospects or set plans, but simply hoped to make a quick profit and leave (as did many of the early foreign residents, to be sure). Among the applicants were those who could not even answer simple questions about what type of merchandise they wished to sell, or how much land they wished to rent. Many of these men disappeared after a short time, returning to their home villages, and were quickly replaced by others of similar mien. In time, however, the settlement congealed into place, and respectable merchants took their place among the fly-by-night operations that marked Yokohama’s first few months. Nonetheless, it was many decades before the shops and neighborhoods of Yokohama attained the degree of fixity that marked other Japanese cities. One Yokohama shop clerk noted in his diary that he preferred Yokohama to Edo, because there were none of the troublesome societal contacts that made Edo a difficult place to live. Yokohama, he praised, was a place “where one does not know his neighbors” (tonari shirazu).17 Population accounts of early Yokohama are notoriously scarce, but some eight thousand Japanese were living in the settlement by the early 1860s, a number that would double by the time of the Meiji Restoration a half decade later. As for Europeans and Americans, approximately 125 men were gainfully employed in Yokohama in 1862, the first year for which data is available. This population climbed gradually, reaching approximately 300 in the mid-1860s and nearly double that by the end of the decade. Uncounted were any number of unlicensed shopkeepers, bar owners, and itinerant laborers who had arrived with no fixed employment (the majority of whom were erstwhile crew members who jumped ship

16 Nishikawa Takeomi 西川武臣 and Itō Izumi 伊藤泉美, Kaikoku Nihon to Yokohama Chūkagai 開国日本と横浜中華街 (Taishūkan 大修館, 2002), p. 50. 17 Ibid., p. 57.

10

introduction

once they reached port).18 Finally, no population accounts include either West Indian laborers or the Chinese, without whom the settlement could hardly have functioned. In addition to serving as translators and domestic staff, the tea trade was exclusively handled by Chinese compradors, who imported tea to Shanghai and Hong Kong.19 Though Yokohama was constructed as a trading hub—and though some small fortunes were made in the silver trade in 1859—the overall pattern of trade in the bakumatsu and early Meiji years was one of reliable stagnation. The principal exports were tea (often processed by young Japanese women under inhumane conditions) and silk, while the primary imports were textiles. Except for brief periods when external conditions spurred interest in native products, such as the European silk blight of 1865, trade never reached the optimistic predictions of early residents. Difficulties with money exchange, and prohibitions on foreign travel to the interior, both served to restrict commercial development, a situation that greatly frustrated all parties except the Japanese government. Although there was sufficient commercial activity to support the merchant population of Yokohama, there were no great success stories during our period—men simply made enough money to cover the expenses of their rent, food, firearms, alcohol, and so forth. Since the cost of living was rather low, however, daily needs could be easily met, and most men could also afford to keep a horse and groom, as well as a cook, servants, and/or live-in mistress. Whereas Yokohama’s foreign residents bemoaned the lack of familiar comforts and civilized trappings, native authors painted the area’s commercial prosperity in broad strokes. One observer of bakumatsu Yokohama, author and woodblock print artist Hashimoto Sadahide, described what he saw on shore, near the custom-house and wharves: There are wharves east and west of the shore for unloading shipments. In the center, the Custom-House and shop-fronts spread out in all directions. The sound of the waves hitting with majestic severity and the constant cries of the birds in the air could be mistaken for flutes used in court music…The east wharf is where the foreigners unload their shipments; it is quite a lively scene, as the foreigners and Japanese co-mingle, their parcels piled high as 18 The 1868 edition of The Chronicle and Directory for China, Japan, and the Philippines is unique in that is does provide a small list of “Chinese and Native Shopkeepers” in the Yokohama section. There are eleven names listed—all Chinese, and no native. 19 Tea factories were established in Yokohama from quite early on. They were funded by European or American capital, managed by Chinese, and usually staffed by poor Japanese women, who labored under mercilessly hot conditions during the summer months.



yokohama and the periodical press 11 mountains, and continuously being sent off in great carts….The western wharf is for unloading goods conveyed from Edo, and here, too, there is a bustling crowd. On several carts the branch agents jostle and crowd one another, the voices of the cart-men resounding ferociously to the heavens above.20

In contrast, an early visitor to Yokohama, Bishop George Smith, dismissively noted that there was a sense of negligence and discomfort throughout the whole place; and everything was in a state of transition towards something which it was hoped would be improvement.21

Despite the best attempts of men such as Bishop Smith, life in Yokohama beyond the workaday world was not restricted to the church. Most Europeans and Americans spent their free hours riding and hunting, socializing at dances and clubs, attending amateur theatricals, patronizing brothels, and reading their mail when the steamers came into port. The Japanese population, for their part, was not remiss in attending to its own pleasures. The Shimoda-ya, a theater for kabuki and other performances, was established in short order, as was a makeshift sumo wrestling arena. People flocked to the licensed prostitution district of Miyozaki to see the fountains, gardens, and dazzling architecture. In the words of Nansōan Shōhaku, author of an 1860s travel guide to the port, nowhere among the “prosperous places, famous sights, and historic spots” in Japan was “there a place that could compare to present-day Yokohama.” Bishop Smith, however, despaired that Yokohama “is a deplorable scene of demoralization and profligate life.” Somewhere between these two extremes lay the settlement itself. Like any other historical epoch, the period under consideration in this volume witnessed both change and stasis, but the decade of the 1860s stands out as a key “conflictual moment” in Japanese history.22 Its apogee

20 Hashimoto Sadahide 橋本貞秀, Yokohama kaikō kenbunshi 横浜開港見聞誌, ed. Gyokuransai 玉蘭斎 (pseudonym of author), ill. Go’untei Sadahide 五雲亭貞秀 (pseud. of author); 6 fascicles; 2 vols. Vol. 1 (fascicles 1–3) published in 1862 (Bunkyū 2); vol. 2 (fascicles 3–6) published in 1865 (Keiō 1). Reprinted with an introduction by Kida Junichirō 紀田順一郎 by Meicho kankōkai 名著刊行会, 1967. The quotation above may be found in the 1967 reprinted edition, pp. 9–10. 21 George Smith, Ten Weeks in Japan (London: Longman, Green, Longman, and Roberts, 1861), p. 250. 22 See Tetsuo Najita, “Introduction: A Synchronous Approach to the Study of Conflict in Modern Japanese History,” in Conflict in Japanese History, ed. Najita et al. (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1982), pp. 3–21.

12

introduction

was the violent dissolution of the Tokugawa regime in 1868, a culmination of events known collectively in English as the “Meiji Restoration.” However, Yokohama as a community was the mise-en-scène for strands of historical narrative that did not directly lead into the restoration, but which profoundly impacted the lives of its residents. In fact, the key events of Yokohama’s early years were those nearly every community has shared at some point: fire, rumor, panic, and violence. On August 25, 1859—some seven weeks after the port’s opening—two Russian sailors were slaughtered and another severely wounded by samurai of unknown provenance (years later, a retainer of the anti-foreign domain of Mito implicated a compatriot in the slayings, who was apprehended and beheaded in Yokohama). In November of that same year, a pair of samurai killed a Chinese servant of the French consul, while in February of 1860, captains of two Dutch vessels were attacked. The assassination of tairō (“Great Elder”) Ii Naosuke in March 1860 tied local concerns with national politics, as it was assumed that both were the work of samurai activists loyal to the lord of Mito. Yokohama took on the characteristics of a city under siege, and extensive security measures were implemented throughout the area. Gates and guardhouses were erected, swords were forbidden, and passes were issued for visitors. Foreigners themselves were advised to travel outside only during daylight hours and even then were encouraged to carry firearms for self-defense. Rumors swirled that the American consul had been murdered, and that three hundred Mito samurai were massing to attack. In Yokohama local militias were formed, and English and French sailors barracked nearby. In the end, these local defense measures proved sufficient, and the anti-foreign violence soon abated. In contrast to such events, the effects of the Meiji Restoration in Yokohama were rather mild. Kanagawa officials maintained law and order in the early months of 1868 despite the power vacuum that had been created by the dissolution of the bakufu. The Western powers increased security around the exits and entrances to the foreign settlement, but few other measures were deemed necessary. In May of 1868, representatives of the new Meiji regime were appointed as public administrators of the Kanagawa area and continued the work of their bakufu predecessors. In following years, the outlines of Yokohama continued to expand outward: by the 1870s, the city had grown to encompass some of its smaller neighbors, and the recently established train service between Yokohama and Tokyo collapsed the distance between the port and Japan’s new capital city. The opening of other “treaty ports” in Kobe and Osaka, the beginning



yokohama and the periodical press 13

of foreign residence in Tokyo in 1870, and the modernizing changes of the new Meiji regime all contributed to the fact that Yokohama—though a booming city, with a prosperous economy—no longer stood alone. For a short time, however, Yokohama was unique in Japan, a multinational community with a vibrant periodical press that fed on the tension and discord in foreign policy and social life. It is to that media we now turn.

CHAPTER ONE

JOSEPH HECO AND THE KAIGAI SHINBUN Having met three American presidents, obtained American citizenship, and been baptized as a Catholic, Joseph Heco—the former castaway Hamada Hikozō—was well poised to found the first periodical of world events in the Japanese language. This chapter will address in detail the two newspapers Heco founded in Yokohama, the Kaigai Shinbun 海外新聞 of 1865–1867 and an earlier iteration, Shinbunshi 新聞紙. Though both were distressingly short-lived, the scope and influence of their readership cannot be denied.1 Heco arrived in Japan in 1859 and served as an interpreter to the American Legation until February 1860, when he resigned to set up his own trading company in Yokohama. He noted in his autobiography that many Japanese merchants were originally quite hesitant about setting up shop in the new settlement, but his hope was that as a Japanese person who understood Western business practices, he might be able to mediate between the two cultures: Since the opening of the place to trade, foreign merchants and dealers have been swarming into Yokohama from the China ports and elsewhere. On the other hand the natives have been flocking into the town from all parts of the country… But very few folks of good name and repute responded to the inducement, and those who came were mostly broken men, mere adventurers and speculators who had but little to lose and possibly something to gain. And this was so, it was reported, because respectable persons were afraid to come in contact with the foreign “barbarians,” with their strange speech and uncouth, outlandish ways.2

Unfortunately, many Japanese considered Heco a “foreign barbarian” as well, and as the fever pitch of sonnō jōi (“revere the emperor, expel the 1 The term “newspaper” is used with some reservation, as it immediately brings to mind an image of the contemporary newspaper: large enough in size that two hands are required to hold it, typeset in columns of rather small print, and often folded rather than bound. The newspapers under consideration in this chapter were closer in appearance to Japanese books—printed off woodblocks, and stitched together with a front and back cover. Altman neologized the term “newsbooks” to circumvent this issue; see his “The Press,” in Japan in Transition: From Tokugawa to Meiji, ed. Marius B. Jansen and Gilbert Rozman (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1986), pp. 236ff. 2 Joseph Heco, Narrative of a Japanese, vol. 1, p. 249.

16

chapter one

barbarian”) xenophobia swept through Japan in the early 1860s, Heco was made aware of many threats made on his life. These threats—plus the brutal killings of several foreigners in Yokohama that followed on the heels of Ii Naosuke’s assassination in 1860—convinced Heco to return to the United States for his own safety in the autumn of 1861. Anchoring in New York some two months later, the pilot came on board with an armful of newspapers, [and] our passengers fell upon them with great avidity, for they were all wild to learn the war news.3

To Heco, it was clear that his adopted country was at war, of course, but also that the newspaper had taken on a renewed importance as a source of information in the two years he had been absent from the United States. Firsthand war reportage, communicated via telegraph, was reinventing the way Americans understood their world. After a busy ten-month jaunt in the United States—during which period he was momentarily (but mistakenly) arrested as a Confederate spy and later briefly met President Lincoln—Heco returned in 1862 to a country as chaotic and dangerous as the one he had left. This time, however, he was back to stay. Heco and Newspapers Heco had evinced an interest in newspapers since his earliest days in the United States. The California Daily Courier noted in its edition of March 17, 1851, that the Japanese castaways had made a visit to their offices and inspected the type, presses, and other equipment.4 Heco makes repeated mention of newspapers in his autobiography Narrative of a Japanese and lists among his friends a newspaper editor named Wallace and a reporter named Denman. In an entry from 1857, he notes with pleasure that a wellplaced letter in the Washington Globe detailing his life “excited curiosity” about him in Washington circles, so much so that “the residents of the place became very friendly and invited me to dinner and evening parties and so forth.”5 Doubtless the Globe was not the only newspaper on Heco’s reading list during his long stay in the United States, given his facility with 3 Ibid., p. 282. 4 California Daily Courier, March 17, 1851; as quoted in Robert F. Oaks, “Golden Gate Castaway: Joseph Heco and San Francisco, 1851–1859,” in California History 82.2 (spring 2004), p. 46. 5 Heco, Narrative of a Japanese, vol. 1, p. 150.



joseph heco and the kaigai shinbun17

English and his interest in current events. By the 1840s, Baltimore—where Heco lived for much of his sojourn—boasted three daily newspapers, in addition to the renowned New York Tribune and New York Herald, both of which were available in nearby Washington and in much of the United States (including California, where Heco spent the first part of the decade). Heco also likely knew of the embryonic Japanese press. Woodblockprinted broadsheets known as kawaraban will be discussed later on, but in addition to those nonstandard and irregular forms of print media, the Japanese government had ordered its translation bureau to publish edited digests of translated articles from various news media. A translated version of the Dutch Javasche Courant appeared in 1862 under the name Kanpan Batabia Shinbun (“Official News from Batavia”) and later as Kanpan Kaigai Shinbun (“Official Overseas News”). The translation bureau also translated articles culled from Yokohama’s English-language press (the subject of Chapter Three) and published the results under a variety of names in the early 1860s. These newspapers were initially circulated among bakufu elites as well as other highly placed officials and for a time were even offered for sale to the general public.6 However, since all of these newspapers were subject to government censorship, articles dealing with sensitive or forbidden topics—Christianity, for example, or criticism of the bakufu’s handling of foreign policy—never appeared in their pages. With this diverse background in mind, Heco made an initial foray into publishing in October of 1862, with an English-language periodical titled Monthly Business Circular. While no known copies are known to exist, two extracts from the Circular appear in his autobiography, Narrative of a Japanese. Both deal strictly with domestic news and are sharply critical of the shogunate as well as Mito and Chōshū, two breakaway domains that had been angling for influence as the power of Tokugawa faded. In a Circular article from November of 1862, Heco wrote that the power of the central government was in a “speedy downfall,” and in January of 1863, he noted that in central Japan “the authority of the shogun is already completely set at nought”—opinions that no member of the bakufu’s

6 Established in 1811 as the Bansho Wakai Goyōkakari 蕃書和解御用係 (Bureau for the Translation of Barbarian Writings), the bureau underwent a series of confusing name changes over the years. In 1855 (Ansei 2) it was renamed the Yōgakujo 洋学所 (Institute of Western Studies); in 1856 (Ansei 3), as the Bansho Shirabesho 蕃書調所 (Office for Studying Barbarian Writings); and finally in 1863 (Bunkyū 3), the Kaiseijo 開成所 (Office to Carry Out the Opening). Translations of office titles given here follow Huffman, Creating a Public, pp. 16, 25–26.

18

chapter one

translation bureau would have dared to venture.7 No mention of the Circular is made beyond January 1863, and it remains a matter of speculation as to why Heco ended its publication. Perhaps he realized that local English-language newspapers in Yokohama such as the Japan Herald and the Japan Commercial News were adequately serving needs of the Englishspeaking community. Kishida Ginkō It was perhaps inevitable that Heco would eventually try to publish a newspaper for a domestic Japanese readership. As the only “JapaneseAmerican” living in the country, his fame was widespread among daimyo, bakufu officials, and local intelligentsia, all of whom sought out “America Hikozō” for news of the world. As he relates in his English autobiography, he was continually besieged with visitors (“especially the local authorities”) coming to his home in Yokohama in order to learn of the world beyond Japan’s shores. Owing to the peculiar circumstances of his upbringing, however, he could neither read nor write in his native language. Fortunately, he was able to find a pair of exceptionally able assistants. One of them, Kishida Ginkō, went on to enjoy a most distinguished career in the field of newspaper reporting. Born in 1833 to a farming family in the province of Mimasaka (in present-day Okayama Prefecture), Kishida studied at local schools before wresting permission from his parents to go to Edo at the age of seventeen. By twenty, the precocious Kishida was giving lectures at the Edo residences of the daimyo of Mito and Akita, and he became friendly with the influential Mito scholar and pro-imperial adherent Fujita Tōko. Given Mito’s infamous anti-foreign philosophy, often summarized in the fourcharacter phrase sonnō jōi, or “revere the emperor, expel the barbarians,” it is no wonder that the young Kishida came to harbor resentment toward Commodore Perry’s intrusion and the resulting treaty. After his friend and mentor Fujita perished in the Great Ansei Earthquake of 1855, Kishida entered the school of Fujisawa Tenzan, a friend of Mito daimyo and noted xenophobe Tokugawa Nariaki. Their relationship was not to last. During the Ansei Purge of 1858, newly appointed great elder Ii Naosuke imprisoned Nariaki and clamped down other adherents of the anti-foreign cause.

7 Heco, Narrative of a Japanese, vol. 1, pp. 313–314.



joseph heco and the kaigai shinbun19

Though Kishida was neither jailed nor executed, his teacher was arrested and banished from Edo, and Kishida himself fled from Edo in 1859. With his career as a scholar apparently at an end, he lived quietly (though improbably) for the next few years in Edo as a bathhouse attendant, and later as a brothel keeper in nearby Fukagawa. During this period, he adopted the pseudonym “Ginkō” that was to become familiar to thousands of readers in subsequent years. In 1863, Kishida was struck with a serious eye ailment. He managed to set aside his xenophobic inclinations and sought treatment from a foreign doctor in Yokohama—a decision that would change the course of his life and quite literally change his vision of the world. The physician who treated Kishida, Dr. James Hepburn (1815–1911), is best remembered today for his popularization of the system of romanizing Japanese that bears his name, as well as the compilation of the first Japanese–English dictionary. In bakumatsu Yokohama, however, he was known among the Japanese as a doctor of great efficacy—in fact, his exploits in amputating the leg of a well-known kabuki actor were celebrated in a woodblock print in 1866.8 To Kishida’s amazement, the eye ailment cleared up after seven days’ treatment under Hepburn’s care. Kishida resolved to remain on in Yokohama for the summer, finding that his views of foreigners had completely changed; he later described Hepburn as “performing his tasks with great virtue, righteous and amiable, like a prince.”9 Hepburn subsequently shared with Kishida his plan to compile the first comprehensive Japanese– English dictionary, a project in which the latter readily agreed to take part. It would take them three full years to complete the process. Shinbunshi Hepburn first introduced Kishida to Joseph Heco in that summer of 1863, and the two reputedly became fast friends. In fact, Kishida wrote the preface to Heco’s Japanese-language autobiography published that fall, despite

8 An 1866 woodblock print by the third Hiroshige celebrated Hepburn’s amputation of the leg of popular actor Sawamura Tanosuke. The print misidentifies Hepburn as a “famous French doctor,” but he is nevertheless identifiable by his memorable treatment of the popular actor. See Yokohama grafica: Yokohama ukiyoe 横浜浮世絵, ed. Yokota Yōichi 横田洋一 (Yūrindō 有隣堂, 1989), p. 55. 9 Sugiura Tadashi 杉浦正, Kishida Ginkō—Shiryō kara mita sono issho 岸田吟香: 資料 から見たその一生 (Kyūko Sensho 汲古選書, 1996), p. 150.

20

chapter one

the fact that they had only known each other for a few months.10 During that time they may also have discussed the establishment of a Japaneselanguage newspaper, but it was not until Kishida’s summer stay in the following year that the plan came to fruition. As Kishida relates their meeting, one day Hikozō mentioned that in American there was something called a “newspaper” which gathered up all the unusual events of the day and distributed them to the public in writing. We came to believe strongly in the value of newspapers.11

The result of this conversation would be the first private venture into news media in Japanese history. In 1864, Heco began to circulate copies of a small, hand-copied effort entitled Shinbunshi (“newspaper”) from his home at No. 141 in Yokohama’s foreign settlement.12 As nine years abroad had robbed him of whatever ability he had to read and write Japanese, Heco turned to Kishida to write and edit the manuscript. The pair was joined by Honma Senzō, a doctor’s son from Fukuoka, who had fled home at fourteen and wound up in Yokohama studying foreign languages with Hepburn. Sadly, because so many irreplaceable primary resources were destroyed during World War II, we know very little about what the trio chose to include in the Shinbunshi’s pages. In fact, only a single issue remains, found among the papers of the Nanbu family, rulers of Hachinohe domain (present-day Aomori Prefecture) in the Tokugawa period. Among its contents one sees a firsthand account of the allied bombardment of Chōshū, as reported by Heco’s friend Eugene Van Reed; a list of the dead and wounded from the Kinmon Gate Incident, when Chōshū troops were defeated in Kyoto by forces loyal to the shogun; and a selection of anti-Mito and anti-Chōshū satirical verse, suggesting that Heco’s sympathies lay with the Tokugawa government. While the prospect of a hand-copied periodical might be unimaginable in contemporary times, manuscript production in Japan was a centuriesold practice (beginning with Buddhist texts in the Nara period) that did 10 Chikamori Haruyoshi suggests that Kishida and Honma Senzō may have played an active role in writing the manuscript, since Heco could not write in Japanese. Josefu Hiko, p. 251. 11 Kishida Ginkō, “Shinbun jisturekidan 新聞実歴談,” in Jyaanarizumu no shisō ジャー ナリズムの思想, vol. 12 of Gendai Nihon shisō taikei 現代日本思想体系, ed. Tsurumi Shunsuke 鶴見俊輔 (Chikuma Shobō 筑摩書房, 1966, 2nd edition), p. 63. 12 For a biographical sketch of this figure—who is said to have first met Heco at the local laundry—see Satō Takashi 佐藤孝, “Honma Senzō: Meiji shoki ichi gaikōkan no kiseki 本間清雄：明治初期一外交官の奇跡,” in Hiroba 12 (August 1985), p. 67.



joseph heco and the kaigai shinbun21

not enter its final decline phase until the early Meiji period.13 Even after the advent of woodblock printing technology, people continued to copy secular texts to keep information secret, or as a means to circulate materials too politically sensitive for wider distribution. The goal of secrecy would seem to belie the very intention of a newspaper, and as an American citizen living in Yokohama, Heco would not have been subject to bakufu censorship. Why, then, did Heco choose to circulate his first efforts in manuscript form? This question remains unanswered, but one hypothesis is that Heco was testing the market for such a venture before expending the capital required to have his newspaper published professionally. In any event, all available evidence suggests that Shinbunshi continued for only two or three months, as Kishida returned to Edo at the end of the summer of 1864, and Honma returned to Kakegawa in August.14 Kaigai Shinbun In May 1865, Heco renewed his effort to publish a Japanese-language newspaper with the Kaigai Shinbun (“Overseas News”).15 From May 1865 to January 1867, a total of twenty-six issues were published, approximately once every two weeks. As Heco explained in the first issue, “As the English mail steamers arrive in this harbor two times per month, I will publish each issue as soon as convenience allows.”16 Each issue ran approximately ten pages, composed of four to five sheets of paper folded halfway. Like the

13 See Peter Kornicki, The Book in Japan: A Cultural History from the Beginnings to the Nineteenth Century (Leiden: Brill, 1998), esp. chapter 3, “Manuscript Culture,” pp. 79–111. 14 Chikamori bases his argument on the fact that the tenth issue of Kaigai Shinbun— appearing one year after the first issue of the Shinbunshi—restarts its pagination at one, thus informing the reader that this issue marked the beginning of the second volume of Heco’s publication. Chikamori’s reasoning does not hold when one considers the fact that the issue appearing one year after the tenth issue of the Kaigai Shinbun did not renumber in a similar fashion. See Chikamori, “Kaisetsu 解説,” in Josefu Hiko Kaigai Shinbun 海外新 聞, ed. Josefu Hiko ki’nenkai ジョセフ彦 記念会 and Waseda Daigaku 早稲田大学 (Waseda Daigaku Shuppan-bu 出版部, 1977), pp. 328–329. Further references to this volume will be abbreviated as JHKS. 15 It must be noted that a total of four different newspapers in the late Tokugawa and early Meiji periods used the name Kaigai Shinbun (“Overseas News”); the others are of little note save the fact that their name might cause undue confusion. For details of the other three newspapers to use the name Kaigai Shinbun, see Nihon shoki shinbun zenshū 日本初 期新聞全集, ed. Kitane Minoru 北根豊 (Perikan-sha ぺりかん社, 1986), bessatsu, p. 149– 150. Further references will be abbreviated as NSSZ. 16 Numbers 25 and 26 were actually given the numbers 1 and 2 by Heco, but as they directly followed 24, these issues are traditionally referred as a direct continuation of the preceding.

22

chapter one

Fig. 1–1. Front cover of Kaigai Shinbun.

Shinbunshi, the Kaigai Shinbun was “edited” by Heco, who read aloud articles from the English-language press while Honma took notes. The cover, based on an original drawing by Honma, depicted wisteria vines twisting around a scene of Kanagawa Bay, with Mount Fuji visible in the distance (see Fig. 1–1). Subscription rates were set at one ryō two bu for a year, or five hundred monme for a single issue. Though the Kaigai Shinbun bore a superficial resemblance to many contemporary Japanese publications, the content reflected Heco’s experience with American newspapers. When he arrived in California in the early 1850s, the United States had recently undergone a revolutionary



joseph heco and the kaigai shinbun23

change in newspaper publishing. In the 1830s, American newspapers— originally expensive and subscription based, with limited circulation and minimal advertising—gave way to the so-called penny press: advertisingladen, inexpensive, popular newspapers known for both their objectivity as well as their sensational “personal-interest” stories. Heco took this format to heart. Though not sold by urchins on the street corners, single issues of Kaigai Shinbun were offered for sale at Heco’s office, and though early issues did not contain advertising, he mentioned in his first issue that the newspaper would soon be publishing “advertisements from foreigners [ijin] residing in Yokohama.” Most importantly, however, Heco followed the penny press in his desire for the Kaigai Shinbun to reach as inclusive an audience as possible, noting that “even children should be able to read newspapers.” As such he purposefully used simple words and phrases, replaced understood Japanese terms for strange foreign ones, and sought above all to convey a profound sense of wonder and respect for the world beyond Japan’s shores. Heco’s new venture was different from its predecessor in several key respects. First, while the Shinbunshi concerned itself with domestic affairs, the newer paper—as its name implied—dealt exclusively with news from around the globe. As Heco wrote in the first issue, “the intention behind rendering the newspapers of each country into Japanese is to make known the interesting articles of each country.”17 The reason for the format change may be in part attributable to Kishida’s absence from the Kaigai Shinbun project. During the years of the newspaper’s publication, Kishida was engaged full time on Hepburn’s Japanese dictionary, making several trips to and from Edo before finally moving in with the Hepburns in the summer of 1865. Even if Kishida had been simultaneously working with Heco, he would have been hard pressed to continue gathering Edo gossip after the move—and it would have been an impossibility after he and Hepburn left for Shanghai to have the dictionary published in the autumn of 1866.18 Whereas the Shinbunshi was strictly a hand-copied affair, the Kaigai Shinbun was intended from the start as a woodblock-printed periodical, indicative of Heco’s desire to reach a wider audience. Actual publication, however, followed a rather uneven route. The first eleven issues were woodblock printed, the following four circulated in hand-written copy, 17 JHKS, p. 259. 18 Heco biographer Chikamori Haruyoshi also had the opportunity to interview Honma’s son, who confirmed that the handwriting in the Kaigai Shinbun belonged to his father.

24

chapter one

and no issues were published at all during a five-month gap in 1866 (July 28–May 31). Issues eighteen through twenty-four saw the debut of several features. Issue eighteen charted new waters by running two (comparatively) long-running series—one on American history, and another on episodes from the Old Testament. Issues published during this particularly rich period also pioneered the use of print advertisements from local merchants, suggesting that local businesses must have recognized the Kaigai Shinbun’s wide reach. The final phase of the Kaigai Shinbun was marked by the appearance of two unnumbered and hand-written issues that followed the publication of number twenty-four. Heco scholar Chikamori Haruyoshi suggests these issues were distributed informally after Heco’s decision to move to Nagasaki had become final.19 “The News of Various Countries” In Heco’s own words, the purpose of the Kaigai Shinbun was to “put the news of various countries into Japanese” and thus “make unusual stories known.” While these goals are no different from those of today’s media conglomerates, the Kaigai Shinbun looked far different from the modern newspaper. Needless to say, the original text was hand-written—from top to bottom and right to left—but a more pertinent difference was in format. Individual articles did not have “headlines,” but rather the paper was divided into sections identified by country: there was an “America Section,” “England Section,” “France Section,” and so forth, each marked off by a “〇” separating it from its predecessor. This practice—possibly borrowed from the Kanpan Batabia Shinbun and Kanpan Kaigai Shinbun—reinforced to its readers the concept that the world was a community of nations, and Heco’s editorial preference was to highlight the relations between and among them. For example, a Japanese reader would have learned of the frequency with which nations made war, signed treaties of trade and commerce, and endured floods, famines, and epidemics. One country, the United States of America, had turned upon itself and was currently fighting a civil war over “the buying and selling of black people.” The Kaigai Shinbun described to its Japanese audience the way nations interacted with each other according to mutually established and understood codes of conduct, making clear that the rules of international law formed a system in which Japan was expected to participate. As such, 19 JHKS, p. 330.



joseph heco and the kaigai shinbun25

readers would have been introduced to a worldview rather at odds with the prevailing winds of native isolationism and anti-foreign rhetoric. Issue number eight, for example, remarks upon a diplomatic delegation to be sent from Austria to Japan, and number twenty notes that a letter had been delivered to the “Japanese Tycoon” (the shogun) from the king of France.20 Such international relationships were not necessarily predicated on treaties and commerce: for example, the second issue mentions that plans were underway for a major exhibition in Paris of “curiosities” from all over the world (a reference to the International Exhibition, which Honma was actually to attend in 1867), and that same issue reported that Holland would be mounting an exhibit of “artistic paintings” from all over the world.21 The Kaigai Shinbun also described the leadership structure of governments around the world: one reads of kings and princesses, American presidents and vice presidents, prime ministers and cabinets. Heco emphasized that leaders did not live in seclusion, but interacted with the general populace: the Prussian king, for example, personally opened a session of parliament and spoke of his country’s victory in war; the English queen went riding in a park and nearly suffered a spill; and the king of Italy rode the train to Florence. Many modern leaders did not permanently occupy their position by means of birth, nor did they hold their positions indefinitely. Heco reports that American presidents accede to their position “one after the other,” that the president of the American confederacy (Jefferson Davis) was arrested and refused bail, and that members of the legislature resigned en masse in Holland. As one who had shaken hands with three American presidents, Heco was well aware of the stark contrast in accessibility and protocol between the Japanese shogun and the modern rulers of the West.22 Finally, readers learned of great leaders’ deaths (British prime minister Lord Palmerston, in number fifteen) and assassinations (Abraham Lincoln, in number six), and the general mourning that accompanied their funerals. The articles selected by Heco highlighted another major difference between the shogunate and the governments of the West: that charac­ teristic of openness referred to in the modern age as “transparency.”

20 “general customs”: Ibid., p. 279. “Japanese Tycoon”: Ibid., p. 299. 21 Ibid., pp. 262–263. 22 The new Meiji government soon learned the utility of the visible ruler; see Takashi Fujitani, Spendid Monarchy: Power and Pageantry in Modern Japan (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1996).

26

chapter one

The Kaigai Shinbun explained that the nations of the West were governed by parliaments and congresses, deliberative bodies that discussed budgets, taxes, and international relations in open fora that were dutifully reproduced in print media. Even when limitations were put upon the press, this fact was noted by the modern Western press: a French newspaper, for example, was shut down by the government for its criticism of the government’s handling of the Prussia–Austria conflict and its policy toward Mexico, while in Russia “the great lords (daimyō) met in the castle town of Moscow, but what was discussed there is unknown since it is forbidden by the laws of that country to print actual affairs in the newspaper.”23 Another recurring topic in the Kaigai Shinbun, and a subject of clear interest to Heco, was foreign technology. In the mid-nineteenth century, new technologies were being developed at a rapid pace, and accounts of groundbreaking inventions such as the telegraph (and its exorbitant price, four dollars a word), the transatlantic cable, and the barometer frequently found their way into the Kaigai Shinbun’s pages. Like many of his day, Heco was taken with the burgeoning railroad industry—“the railroad is truly an instrument of great benefit to the nation”—mentioning a salary dispute that caused delay in construction of the railroad industry in Spain, and the difficulties caused by the destruction of Southern train bridges by Northern soldiers in America, among other references.24 For Japanese readers on the cusp of such modernizing changes as telegraphs, railroads, and representative assemblies, the Kaigai Shinbun must have been an invaluable wellspring of information about the world to come. Vocabulary Old and New Heco stated in the first issue of the Kaigai Shinbun that he wished to write in a style “even children could read.”25 This sentiment was perhaps a bit idealistic, as even his more knowledgeable readers would have likely struggled with the many unfamiliar concepts, institutions, and place names introduced in its pages. Nonetheless, Heco’s desire to make his newspaper reader friendly is evident from the frequent use of in-text definitions: at the first mention of a foreign term, a gloss would often follow in half-size 23 JHKS, pp. 257–258 and 308. 24 “the railroad is truly …”: Ibid., p. 13. 25 “dōji ni mo yonan 童子にも読なん”; see Ibid., p. 263.



joseph heco and the kaigai shinbun27

handwriting, ranging from a few words to one or two full sentences. Rather than direct translations from foreign newspaper articles—which made up the bulk of the newspaper’s content—the definitions seem to have come directly from Heco and as such provide a useful “snapshot” image of what a person educated in both cultures thought needed explaining to a Japanese readership. Heco defined dozens of terms in the course of the Kaigai Shinbun’s pages. The majority appear in the first several issues, presumably because the number of mysterious concepts decreased as the number of previously defined words increased. Many of these words introduce foreign technology, such as the telegraph (J. denshinki) mentioned above, defined in issue four as “a tool that allows one to converse with distant persons by means of electricity”; the torpedo (toruedōsu), a thing that “explodes on its own, like fireworks”; and the barometer (barumeitoru), a “weather standard.”26 Other unfamiliar terms defined for the native readership included simple terms such as “beer” (“biya is a name for sake”) and “Thursday” (tautologically defined as “three days before Sondei”) to more complex concepts such as “bail” (“to petition with money to release a person”), “volunteerism” (“sending out men [hei] from among the townsmen when there is occasion to do so”), “quarantine” (“keeping ships offshore and not permitting them in the harbor”), and “monopoly” (“when only one party receives license to trade”).27 On occasion Heco defined words in terms of their closest Japanese equivalent, though this strategy does not always seem particularly appropriate or useful in retrospect. Terms rendered into shogunate offices included the position of British prime minister, translated as rōjū, or elder; lord, rendered as daimyō; and police as machi bugyō, a term closer akin in meaning to “town magistrate.” Government institutions such the British Parliament or the United States Congress were glossed as hyōjōsho, an ancient term used in Heco’s day to refer to highest tribunal of the Tokugawa bakufu. As defined in the second issue of the newspaper (with reference to the British institution), the hyōjōsho was a conference divided into upper, lower, and middle houses; the upper conference is where the various lords (J. daimyō) gather and hold council…. the

26 For the definition of telegraph, see JHKS, p. 267; torpedo, p. 259; barometer, p. 271. “Torpedo” is alternatively spelled as torubetyō トルベテョー in issue number fourteen. 27 For the definition of beer, see JHKS, p. 264; Thursday, p. 291; bail, p. 304; volunteerism, p. 276; quarantine, p. 287; monopoly, p. 262.

28

chapter one lower house is the place where townsmen (J. chōnin) and officials (yakunin) hold council.28

Other references to societal standing come, for example, in the outpouring of popular grief over the death of Great Britain’s Lord Palmerston, which was expressed as “sorrow felt by all the four classes (shinōkōshō shimin).” Heco, it seems, was unable to express the concept of national sentiment without resorting to Japan’s divided social structure.29 As a longtime resident of the United States, Heco was also concerned with the progress of the American Civil War and the issue of what he translated phonetically as sureifu (“slave/slavery”), rather than the existing Japanese term dorei. In his own words, Heco described a slave as “a black person who is bought and sold—it is a variety of what we call ‘serving girl’ (gi)” and “similar to Japanese courtesans (Nihon yūjo).”30 Genesis, Advertising, and American History The eighteenth issue of the Kaigai Shinbun (May 31, 1866) saw a return to woodblock printing, after four handwritten issues that were circulated in manuscript fashion. Beginning with this issue, the Kaigai Shinbun also ran a trio of features without precedent in the very brief history of the Japanese periodical press. The first was a partial translation of the Old Testament of the Bible, and the second a serial history of the United States of America. Installments of both features appeared in issues eighteen and nineteen, and twenty-two through twenty-six (the final issue of the Kaigai Shinbun). The third new feature was the publication of advertisements for foreign Yokohama merchant houses, translated into Japanese, which appeared in issues eighteen through twenty-six. Publishing a translation of the Bible in mid-1860s Japan was, in the words of Heco historian Chikamori Haruyoshi, an act of “tremendous courage.”31 Xenophobic rhetoric had not yet fully abated in the public sphere, to say nothing of the bakufu proscription on publishing and distributing Christian doctrine that had been in place for over two centuries. Heco’s Japanese translation was not the first—in that particular endeavor 28 JHKS, p. 260. 29 Ibid., p. 290. 30 “buying and selling of black people,” JHKS, p. 290; “serving girl,” p. 262; “Japanese courtesan,” p. 290. 31 “Kanchō taiwa: Chikamori Haruyoshi shi o mukaete 館長対話—近盛晴嘉氏を迎 えて,” in Hiroba 10 (February 1985), pp. 46ff.



joseph heco and the kaigai shinbun29

he was preceded by Jesuit missionaries in the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, as well as by the Prussian missionary Karl F.A. Gützlaff, who in 1837 published a partial translation of the Bible in Singapore.32 Nonetheless, nineteenth-century Japan had seen nothing like the publication of a newspaper containing excerpted translations of the foundation of the Christian faith. Heco chose to begin quite understandably with Genesis, the first book of the Old Testament—but rather than titling the section “Bible” (J. seisho), a word that bakufu censors would surely have recognized, Heco opted to use the nonspecific title “An Outline of the Beginning of the World” (“Sekai kaibyaku no aramashi”).33 Starting with the creation of the world in seven days, the next installment progressed to the story of Noah and the Flood. The text is dense and difficult to parse, even for one with a familiarity with the subject matter; though a baptized Catholic, Heco was apparently unable to clearly express his understanding of Christian belief into his native language. His assistant Honma Senzō, of course, would have had little knowledge of the subject matter as he set Heco’s words to paper (though he, like Kishida, would later convert to Christianity). Less risky but nonetheless significant was the inclusion of a history of the United States in issue eighteen, initially entitled “A Simple History of America” (Amerika shiryaku).34 This feature, like “An Outline of the Beginning of the World,” ran in seven installments, beginning with the voyage of Christopher Columbus and his discovery of the “New World”: Ever since Christopher Columbus first laid eyes on the land of America, some three hundred and seventy-eight years ago, the people of the world have referred to it as the New World (Shin sekai). What he saw in those days of old was a group of moronic barbarians living in a wilderness—a wilderness that has now been transformed into a great and civilized nation (ichidai bunmei kuni).35

32 It was the latter figure, coincidentally, who inspired Hepburn to extend his missionary activities to Japan. 33 Curiously, the title “An Outline of the Beginning of the World” was replaced in issue twenty-four with the title “An Outline of the Beginning of the West” (Seiyō kaibyaku no aramashi 西洋開闢のあらまし). It may only have been an error in translation, but to conflate the “world” with the “West” surely reflected Heco’s own conviction that the culture and institutions of the West (specifically, those of his adopted country of America) were triumphant. 34 This section also changed titles, to “Amerika-shi no aramashi アメリカ史のあらまし” (An Outline of American History) in issue twenty-three, and “Amerika rekishi no aramashi アメリカ歴史のあらまし” (An Outline of American History) in issue twenty-four. 35 Ibid., p. 294.

30

chapter one

The process that led from “barbarity” to “civilization” is never traced in the seven installments of American history, however, because the narrative proceeds at a tempo that might charitably be referred to as deliberative. It is not until the third installment, for example, that Columbus discovers land, and not until the seventh and final installment that Amerigo Vespucci lends his name to the North American continent (in 1499). We may surmise from the pace of Heco’s narrative that he had originally hoped to continue publication of the Kaigai Shinbun well into the future—at the rate “Amerika shiryaku” progressed, it may well have taken years before the year 1776 appeared in its pages. A third new feature beginning in issue eighteen was the inclusion of advertisements from members of Yokohama’s foreign merchant community. Heco was well aware of role of advertising in the news media, both in America as well as in contemporary Yokohama newspapers such as the English-language Japan Herald. Advertisements appearing from issue eighteen onward offered goods and services such as medicine, guns, and dental services, in addition to a lengthy notice published by Walsh, Hall, and Co., the most prominent American trading firm in Yokohama: The Walsh Group of Nagasaki operates in Yokohama as the Walsh and Hall Group. We are American merchants who have operated a store since the opening of Japan, buying Japanese goods and selling foreign goods that arrive on board ships. Gentlemen wishing to place orders for sailing ships, steam ships, other steam appliances, military equipment, or daily dry goods, please visit our establishment … we welcome the Japanese government and the daimyo, as well as townsmen from Osaka and Edo. We are located at number two on the Bund.36

It may have been surprising to see an advertisement of “steamships for sale” in the local newspaper, but by all accounts Yokohama merchants did a brisk trade in steamers and other ships to the Tokugawa and local governments as well as private parties, dating back nearly as far as the opening of the settlement in 1859. Foreign advertisements such as these were the only real local content in the Kaigai Shinbun, and they mark a small step forward in the creation of a sphere of commercial interest expanding beyond Yokohama’s own geographic borders.37 36 Ibid., p. 295. For Francis Hall’s own dealings in the steamship trade, see Notehelfer, Japan Through American Eyes, pp. 455–456n, 570n and ff. 37 There were no advertisements placed by Japanese firms in the Kaigai Shinbun, perhaps because print advertising—though dating back to the Tokugawa period, as handbills and advertisements bound into popular books—did not form a standard component of Japanese business strategy until later in the Meiji period.



joseph heco and the kaigai shinbun31 A Modern Kawaraban

In reading through all twenty-six issues of the Kaigai Shinbun, one is also struck by the preponderance of articles detailing strange events occurring across the globe. This fascination with oddities was by no means unique to Heco—for centuries, crude woodblock prints known as kawaraban had described natural disasters, fires, freak occurrences, the births of deformed babies or animals, and other unusual happenings. In fact, some have considered these broadsheets to be forerunners of newspapers themselves.38 This connection seems especially apt in consideration of similar accounts in the pages of Heco’s newspaper. For example, consider that most typical of kawaraban themes, the natural disaster. In the Kaigai Shinbun we read of an earthquake and the eruption of Mount Etna (issue one); several destructive fires, including that which destroyed P.T. Barnum’s museum (“a place of grand spectacles at which oddities are gathered”) in New York City (issue eleven); and a great rain that “fell like cart axles” and accompanying windstorm, which caused damage in England (issue twenty-three).39 The reader is also subjected to frequent accounts of disease and death, another representative subject of kawaraban prints. The spread of a cholera epidemic in Paris is reported in issues six and fifteen, during which time even the “king himself made the rounds to hospitals and looked after the patients with great care.”40 Though there are no reports of human-headed fish or man-eating cats—other typical kawaraban themes—fantastic oddities are well represented in the Kaigai Shinbun. We read, for example, of a marriage ceremony performed in sign language in London (issue one); the discovery of the ruins of Pompeii (issue twelve); the story of a celebrated military doctor who, it was later learned by means of autopsy, turned out to be a female cross-dresser (issue thirteen); and a report of a blind black musician who dazzled audiences with his ability to master a tune despite being a “complete idiot” (issue twenty-five). Issue fourteen, in addition to the usual reports of battles and budgets, boasts that in the English news of 10 October 1865 there appear unusual items. In a place called Scotland, a man trained his two mice to sew thread … and in Etford,

38 M. William Steele, “Goemon’s New World View: Popular Representations of the Opening of Japan,” in Asian Cultural Studies 22 (1996), pp. 27–42. 39 “A place of grand spectacles,” JHKS, p. 285; “great rain,” p. 306. 40 Ibid., p. 290.

32

chapter one a Chinese giant name Chaki has been put on display along with his wife and children41

(the latter reference apparently to Chang Woo Gow, a Chinese acromegalic who moved to England in the early 1860s). It must be said that Heco, who had lived and traveled abroad, was not one to instinctively conflate the foreign with the strange. Rather, the fact that these events occurred outside of Japan merely marked “an extra degree of oddity,” as Rania Huntington noted in her study of “the weird” in late Qing-dynasty newspapers.42 In sum, Heco’s interest in the abnormal may be viewed, at least in part, as a bridge between the sensationalist “penny press” and the native kawaraban tradition. Readers and Subscribers Despite the large numbers of Japanese people who flocked to Heco’s residence and prompted him to publish a newspaper, the number of paid subscribers to the Kaigai Shinbun was exceedingly small. Heco relates the matter in his autobiography: In the course of the year I had innumerable native visitors to my place,—all eager after foreign news, more especially the local authorities. So; as already mentioned, I began the publication of the Kaigai Shimbun, a newspaper translated from Foreign papers whenever the mails arrived, and giving the local Prices Current for Imports and Exports, for the benefit of the natives. But it was a strange fact that although the native public were anxious to read the paper, they were afraid, I believe, on account of the Government and the law at that time, to subscribe or buy it; so I had to give it away mostly for their benefit: the only regular subscribers being one Samurai (Shomura) of Higo and another (Nakamura), an officer of Yanagawa, in Kiushiu.43

Heco’s reasoning for the lack of paid customers is sound. In the early to mid-1860s, xenophobic hysteria had by no means abated; though many cite the allied bombings of Shimonoseki and Kagoshima in 1862–1863 as the death knell of anti-foreign feeling among the Japanese populace, terrorist violence remained the modus operandi for masterless samurai bent on “expelling the barbarians” at all costs. Yokohama remained a dangerous 41 Ibid., p. 288. 42 Rania Huntington, “The Weird in the Newspaper,” in Writing and Materiality in China: Essays in Honor of Partrick Hanan, ed. Lydia H. Liu et al. (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Asia Center, 2003), p. 356. 43 Heco, Narrative of a Japanese, vol. 2, p. 59.



joseph heco and the kaigai shinbun33

place—Kishida opted to remove to Edo for a month in the summer of 1865, and Heco’s fear for his own life predicated his decision of 1866 to relocate to Nagasaki. Evidence of sympathy or interest in things Western might well have provoked a deadly attack. In such a climate, the anxiety of those who did not wish to place their names on the subscription roll of a newspaper entitled “Overseas News” is quite understandable. Therefore one may assume that the Kaigai Shinbun’s subscription list did not reflect true interest in the publication. First, Kishida noted that approximately one hundred copies were sold individually, presumably to those hesitant to add their names to a list that could fall into the wrong hands. Furthermore, the presence of advertisements in the pages of the Kaigai Shinbun suggests that the newspaper had a far wider readership than many have previously suspected—it is unlikely that established firms such as Walsh, Hall, & Co. would have spent money on advertising a newspaper with a readership in the low single digits.44 Either the readership of the Kaigai Shinbun was greater in number than many have speculated, or else the advertisements were placed with the foreknowledge that there was no ready audience to read them. Second, Heco scholar Chikamori has shown that the number of subscribers was not two, but four—perhaps not a great difference, but worth considering since those involved were extraordinarily well-placed figures in their day. Nakamura Sukeoki, the “officer of Yanagawa” mentioned in Heco’s Narrative, was a friend of Fukuzawa Yukichi—the foremost public intellectual of Meiji Japan—dating back to their student days in Nagasaki. Nakamura himself would later become the finance minister and is credited with the introduction of a national currency. The “samurai of Higo” Heco mentions was Shōmura Shōzō, a scholar who served as the Nagasaki resident director of Higo (present-day Kumamoto) and friend to such leading lights of midcentury century Japan as Sakamoto Ryōma and Katsu Kaishū. Shōmura also knew the Dutch-born American missionary Guido Verbeck, who taught Western subjects such as English and the social sciences to a veritable “who’s who” of post-restoration leaders, including Itō Hirobumi, Okubō Toshimichi, and Okuma Shigenobu. Shōmura, inspired by Verbeck’s passion for Western subjects, immediately subscribed to the Kaigai Shinbun for two full years. Though largely unremembered today, Shōmura later parleyed his connections into a series of high-ranking 44 One might speculate that on the basis of Hall’s friendship with Heco, the former might have placed advertisements in the newspaper as a form of charity for a failing commercial venture, but it seems quite unlikely that all of the advertisers would have done so.

34

chapter one

positions in the Meiji government, working for Gōtō Shinpei and later Sanjō Sanetomi. Though his may have been a single subscription, one imagines Shōmura passing around his previously read copies of the Kaigai Shinbun to a most distinguished roster of friends and associates. In addition to subscriptions for Nakamura and Shōmura (each of whom subscribed for two years), there was also a one-year subscription recorded for another Higo samurai, a teenager named Iwao Toshisada, as well as one for the Higo government. Iwao, like his friend Shōmura, was a disciple of Yokoi Shōnan, a prominent kaikoku advocate, scholar, and government advisor. Iwao studied at Nagasaki and also at Katsu Kaishū’s naval school in Kobe, and he was friendly with future statesmen Kido Kōin, Inoue Kaoru, and Itō. So while there may only have been four paid subscriptions to the Kaigai Shinbun, one would be hard pressed to find a group of men better placed in the progressive intellectual milieu of mid-nineteenthcentury Japanese society. Rather than denigrate the Kaigai Shinbun for the paucity of its paid subscribers, we should celebrate the crucial role Heco performed as the gatekeeper of news for those who could not understand the English language.45 Though its paid readership may have been small, in terms of quality and timeliness, the Kaigai Shinbun far surpassed the official translations put out by the government.46 Its popularity and influence are also made clear by the fact that hand-written copies have been discovered in various repositories around Japan, including those originally belonging to Tokugawa branch in Kishū; the influential daimyo of Fukui, Matsudaira Shungaku; and members of the Bansho Shirabesho (“Office for Studying Barbarian Writings”)—among others.47 Finally, we might consider the situation of newspapers in the United States, which would have been Heco’s first point of comparison. Until the end of the nineteenth century, the practice of reading newspapers in reading rooms or taverns was quite common, as many could not afford to take a newspaper on a weekly or even daily basis. From Heco’s experience in the United States, his low subscription rates may not have been as unusual as the modern observer might make them.

45 The other English-speaking Japanese person was John Manjiro. As he remained a Japanese citizen, however, he did not enjoy the freedoms that Heco did, and he remained under close watch in Edo. 46 See Nishida Taketoshi 西田長寿, Meiji jidai no shinbun to zasshi 明治時代の新聞 と雑誌 (Shibundō 至文堂, 1961), p. 13. 47 Ibid., p. 510.



joseph heco and the kaigai shinbun35 Conclusions

In the West, Kaigai Shinbun has received scant attention in the century and more since it ceased publication. For example, longtime Yokohama resident John Reddie Black—himself a newspaper reporter, editor, and publisher—seems to have missed it entirely, noting in his memoirs that by the year 1867, foreigners began to see that intercourse between themselves and the natives was so far improved, that it was possible to reach them to a larger extent than had ever before been done. Under these circumstances, it had been more than once proposed … to establish a newspaper in the Japanese language, which should give the news of foreign countries by each mail.48

Heco’s newspaper, of course, had offered precisely those services for a year and more prior to that date. And to the extent that Kaigai Shinbun has been referenced at all by later Western observers of the nineteenthcentury press scene, it has been primarily for its “rough” or “crude” nature; Harold S. Williams offered this typical appraisal: “(Heco) became one of the earliest newspaper men in Japan, if the crude sheet he published could be termed a newspaper.”49 James Hoare, to cite another example, dismissed the Kaigai Shinbun in one short sentence as the “first attempt” at a Japanese newspaper.50 In contrast, Japanese historians of the periodical press have tended praise Heco as a pioneering journalist/publisher, and Kaigai Shinbun as the first true “people’s newspaper” and forerunner of the modern press. Such contradictory viewpoints greatly restrict our understanding of Heco’s work. Rather than being considered on its own terms and on its own merit, the Kaigai Shinbun is typically relegated to the bottom rung of the evolution of the “modern” Japanese newspaper.51 Even positive assessments characterize Heco’s efforts as the first toddling steps toward full

48 John Reddie Black, Young Japan: Yokohama and Edo, 1858–1879 (1880–1881; reprint, Tokyo: Oxford University Press, 1968), vol. 2, p. 60. 49 Harold S. Williams, Tales of the Foreign Settlement in Japan (Rutland: C.E. Tuttle, 1972), p. 111. 50 James Hoare, Japan’s Treaty Ports and Foreign Settlements The Uninvited Guests, 1858– 1899 (Folkestone: Japan Library, 1994), p. 164. 51 D. Eleanor Westney, in her survey of organizational patterns of the Tokugawa-Meiji newspaper industry, omits mention of Heco entirely and denigrates the newspapers that followed on the heels of the Kaigai Shinbun thusly: “although they called themselves newspapers, their newsbook format and lack of periodicity had little resemblance to the Western newspaper format of the day.” Westney, Imitation and Innovation, p. 153.

36

chapter one

journalistic maturity in the twentieth century. Preferable to such a developmental frame of analysis, then, is a consideration of the Kaigai Shinbun in the context in which it was published, and it is here that it truly excels— this unique hybrid ensured that well-placed and well-educated readers across Japan had the opportunity to learn about American history, the Christian religion, and the fundamentals of Western government and technology. Given the anti-foreign hysteria of the time, we may speculate that this was reason enough for many interested Japanese people to keep their names off a subscription list—but this does not mean that Heco’s newspaper was not widely read. Rather than belittle the Kaigai Shinbun for its lack of paid subscribers, we should recognize it for what it was: the most crucial information source on international affairs available in Japanese during the mid nineteenth-century.

CHAPTER TWO

THE FIN DE SIÈCLE PRESS: BANKOKU SHINBUNSHI AND YOKOHAMA SHINPŌ MOSHIOGUSA After two years of publishing the Kaigai Shinbun, Joseph Heco elected in December 1866 to pursue business opportunities in Nagasaki. This left Yokohama—and Japan—without a reliable Japanese-language source of news. Before long, however, not one but two foreign-owned Japaneselanguage publications appeared to fill the void. The first was Reverend Buckworth M. Bailey’s Bankoku Shinbunshi 萬國新聞紙 (“Newspaper of the World”), which began publication in February 1867 and continued until the summer of 1869.1 In addition to providing “general interest” stories and local and international news, Bailey reached out to his Japanese audience through editorials and a letters column created for Japanese people to answer foreigners’ questions about Japanese culture, history, and language. Despite the relative anonymity that greets Bankoku Shinbunshi in the present day, Bailey’s newspaper was—in great contrast to Heco’s Kaigai Shinbun—a resounding financial success. Not far behind was Eugene Van Reed and Kishida Ginkō’s Yokohama Shinpō Moshiogusa 横濱新報もしほぐさ (“Yokohama News Anthology”), which printed fortythree issues from June 1868 to April 1870. Moshiogusa also stretched the boundaries of the nascent Japanese news media, including not just news and opinion, but also satire and political cartoons. As we shall see, both newspapers were remarkable in their attempt to create a transnational bridge across the two disparate halves of treaty-port Yokohama. While the Tokugawa shogunate may have faced an insurmountable crisis in the late 1860s, these two foreign-owned periodicals followed their own agenda. Taking advantage of the extraterritorial rights of their publishers, both newspapers were freed from the censorship laws that doomed their counterparts in Edo. This chapter will examine these newspapers for the joint products that they were, reflecting both Japanese and Western viewpoints, and aimed at a native audience for very specific (and at times contradictory) reasons. 1 It is not known when the final issue (number eighteen) appeared, as that issue—as well as number thirteen—remains missing.

38

chapter two Bankoku Shinbunshi: An “Irregular, Short, and Fitful Existence”

At the conclusion of the last chapter, we noted Yokohama publisher and editor J.R. Black’s failure to properly credit Joseph Heco as the first “gentleman” to produce a Japanese-language newspaper. Black reserved the role of press pioneer for fellow Briton M. Buckworth Bailey: What many talked of, the REV. M. BUCKWORTH BAILEY, the English Consular Chaplain, actually commenced. He brought out a paper entitled The Bankoku Shinbunshi—the All-countries Newspaper. I could never understand how it was that this enterprise fell through. It was said that the opening numbers were disposed of to the extent of over two thousands of copies; and if so, they must have left a handsome profit. After an irregular, short and fitful existence, it was altogether discontinued; and nothing of the kind was again attempted for several years, when old things had passed away, and all had become new.2

Black’s comments are unkind, though from the perspective of a 1880s observer, Bankoku Shinbunshi could not help but fall short of newer standards. Bailey’s newspaper may only have run for eighteen issues, but during that “irregular, short, and fitful existence” certainly made its mark. Bailey was the chaplain at the Christ Church of Yokohama, serving the British Legation and garrison, as well as the American Episcopalian community.3 Wittingly or not, he timed the debut of his newspaper precisely with the demise of Kaigai Shinbun—the Bankoku Shinbunshi first appeared in February 1867, the month after Heco’s final hand-circulated issue was released. Printed off woodblocks and boasting a distinctive cover design— a steamship sailing under a rising sun—the Bankoku Shinbunshi adhered to a roughly monthly schedule until its eighteenth and final issue appeared in June 1869. Though the format, number of pages, and cover underwent changes during the course of Bankoku Shinbunshi’s publication, the same features appeared in every issue: a mix of news, history, folktales, advertisements, correspondence, and market reports.4 In contrast to Heco’s newspaper, the Bankoku Shinbunshi was also the first Japanese-language periodical to publish domestic news on a regular basis.

2 Young Japan, vol. 2, p. 60. 3 Hamish Ion, American Missionaries, Christian Oyatoi, and Japan, 1859–1873 (Toronto: UBC Press, 2009), p. 55. 4 As such it was perhaps closer to a modern magazine, especially given its monthly publishing schedule; for this reason Bailey’s effort has sometimes been referred to as the “ancestor of the magazine” by Japanese scholars.



the fin de siècle press 39

As Bailey could neither read nor write Japanese, he relied on a series of native editors, two of whom went onto become prominent figures in the Meiji government. The first was Ōtsuki Fumihiko, who like many others had come to Yokohama to observe Western customs firsthand. Though he was paid a very high salary—12 ryō 2 bu per month—he left after six issues because he reportedly no longer wished to house and feed all the guests who had been taking advantage of his newfound riches.5 Ōtsuki later went on to fame in the Ministry of Education as a linguist and lexicographer, compiling the first comprehensive dictionary of modern Japanese arranged in order of the kana syllabary. Bailey’s second editor, Hoshi Tōru, went from the Bankoku Shinbunshi to even bigger and better things: after studying law in Britain, he later served as speaker of the House of Representatives, minister to the United States, communications minister in the fourth Itō Hirobumi cabinet, and finally head of the Tokyo Municipal Assembly before his assassination in 1901. For Bailey to have readily plucked such promising young men from among the local populace tells us the degree to which Yokohama served as a magnet for ambitious young intellectuals. Under Ōtsuki and later Hoshi’s editorship, Bankoku Shinbunshi enjoyed a wide audience, demographically and geographically. There are no known circulation figures, but the available estimates—ranging from Black’s “more than two thousand” to more than four thousand—suggest that at the very least Bailey’s newspaper dwarfed everything that came before it.6 Furthermore, there do exist specific data on where and when the paper was sold.7 During the early months of the newspaper’s publication—that is, from February 1867 onward—the Bankoku Shinbunshi was offered for sale at three Yokohama locations: Hartley, located at No. 83 in the Foreign Settlement; Ōta-ya Mohee’s shop at Ōta-chō san-chōme in Yokohama’s Japanese district; and at the shop of Amano-ya Kōtarō in the post town of Hodogaya. Within four months the roster of locations at which the

5 NSSZ, bekkan, p. 126–127. 6 Black, Young Japan, vol. 1, p. 264. For the latter figure, see Japan Herald (n.d.), in London and China Telegraph, February 12, 1868; and “1867,” in Japan Times (Overland Mail), January 29, 1868. Both are quoted in J.E. Hoare, “The ‘Bankoku Shinbun’ Affair: Foreigners, The Japanese Press, and Extraterritoriality in Early Meiji Japan,” in Modern Asian Studies 9.3 (1975), p. 290. 7 Japanese historians rely upon Black’s figure as well; see, for example, Yokohama-shi chūō toshokan kaikan kinenshi: Yokohama no hon to bunka 横浜市中央図書館開館記念 誌横浜の本と文化, ed. Yokohama-shi Chūō Toshokan Kaikan Kinenshi Henshū I’inkai 編集委員会 (Yokohama: Yokohama-shi Chō Toshokan, 1994), p. 184.

40

chapter two

Bankoku Shinbunshi was available for sale had grown to ten: five in Yokohama, three in Edo, one in far-off Hakodate, and another in the town of Kiryū in Kōzuke province (current-day Gunma Prefecture). By 1868 the list had expanded to twelve (four in Yokohama, three in Edo, two in Osaka, and one each in Kyoto, Nagasaki, and Hakodate) and had truly reached national proportions, stretching from north to south across the entire country and in the three urban centers in Japan.8 Yokohama and Beyond As Thomas C. Leonard has observed, “journalism remains one of the few things for sale that can develop a sense of community,” and advertisements, notices, editorials, and correspondence in Bailey’s newspaper all served to reinforce this feeling on the local level.9 In addition to the fact that the paper was for sale in both the foreign and native quarters of Yokohama, public notices from the Kanagawa commissioner’s office and from Yokohama officials were printed in the Bankoku Shinbunshi, furthering the notion that the foreign-owned newspaper was published for the benefit of the Japanese community. Issue eight (October–November 1867) was also the first newspaper in Japan to print advertising from both foreign and local merchants. A final feature of the Bankoku Shinbunshi meriting mention was a “Letter to the Editor” section. While this ran in only two issues of the newspaper (two and three), it represented the first serious attempt of the Yokohama press to foster communication between Western and Japanese residents. In issue two we read the following, under the heading “Letters to the Editor of the Bankoku Shinbunshi”: Just as we produce the Bankoku Shinbunshi for the benefit of Japanese people, we request something in return—we have asked our Japanese readers to discuss the pathology and treatment of leprosy, and have presented the answers below.

This topic, though certainly peculiar by contemporary standards, generated a great deal of reader response, also published in that same issue: “the disease is now spreading all over Japan”; “(victims) are forced to live in separate villages for fear of contagion”; “in the end, it is an incurable 8 Ibid. 9 Thomas C. Leonard, News for All: America’s Coming-of-Age with the Press (New York: Oxford University Press, 1995), p. xiii.



the fin de siècle press 41

disease”; “it begins on the father’s side, and skips every two or three generations”; and so on.10 This question-and-answer column was likely intended to be a regular feature, as the following issue featured another question under the same heading: “I wish to inquire to readers of your newspaper about the customs and origin of Japanese hairstyles.”11 Unfortunately, no response to this question was ever published, and the feature never ran again in the Bankoku Shinbunshi’s eighteen issues. Nonetheless, this brief feature—considered in conjunction with the other elements mentioned above—indicates that Bailey’s venture was a small but significant step toward the building of a sense of community that crossed cultural and ethnic boundaries. “The Crucial Affairs of the Tycoon” Although Bailey clearly desired to build bridges to the Japanese community, he did not feel it necessary to present some sort of ʻunited front’ of Western nations to his native readership, especially if a conflict arose between the Western powers that in some way related unfavorably to the Tokugawa government. In fact, the Bankoku Shinbunshi was so deferential to the shogunate that it was thought by some to be sponsored by the regime.12 For example, in issue five (July 1867), the following article appeared in the “Yokohama News” section about Emmanuel Eugène Mermet de Cachon, a priest and missionary interpreter attached to French Legation: The Frenchman Cachon has gone to Paris to accompany the Japanese shogun’s brother and serve as interpreter. Although Cachon appears sincere, he has completely forgotten the great favor (ontaku) he received while in Japan. He has published thoroughly laughable articles about the Japanese government in French newspapers… He asserts that the shogun is only a great general, equal in rank to the daimyo. It is hard to fathom that he would say such stupid things while serving at the side of the Tycoon’s (taikun; i.e., the shogun’s) honorable brother. Because everything Cachon said has been already printed, we will not trouble our readers with it here.13

Mermet de Cachon did much to deepen the ties between his country and the Tokugawa government in the years leading up to the Meiji Restoration. 10 Bakumatsu-Meiji shinbun zenshū 幕末明治新聞全集, ed. Meiji bunka kenkyūkai 明治文化研究会 (Sekai Bunkō 世界文庫, 1961–1962), vol. 2, p. 295. Further references will be abbreviated as BMSZ. 11 Ibid., p. 303. 12 BMSZ, vol. 2, p. 14. 13 Ibid., p. 333.

42

chapter two

At the same time, he also recognized that Japan’s future lay with the great domains and not with the shogunate, characterizing Japan in a French newspaper as “great confederacy of hereditary princes” rather than a centrally governed state.14 Bailey clearly considered him a turncoat for recognizing that the shogunate had lost authority to rule—to say nothing of Mermet de Cachon’s duplicitous behavior in continuing to escort the new shogun’s brother, Akitake, around Paris. A further example of intra-Western conflict appeared in issue seven (October–November 1867), when Bailey attacked Japan Times editor Benjamin Seare for inaccurately reporting the shogun’s resignation and replacement by the “Lord of Owari” (unfortunately, the corresponding issue of the Japan Times has since been lost). Rather than wait for the Times to issue a retraction, the Bankoku Shinbunshi ran its own correction as the lead story, quoting a pronouncement from Yokohama officials that the Japan Times report was “unbelievable nonsense, since everyone knows that the shogun continues to perform his duties.”15 Bailey pronounced the Japan Times’ error as “truly terrible for the significance of newspapers, and something for which we are truly shameful,” and noted that it was of the utmost importance to send off a correction to the countries of Europe as soon as possible. To speak of the crucial affairs of the Tycoon in such insulting language, is harmful to the government. This unfortunate matter is completely the fault of Seare, the head of the Japan Times and one who draws an exorbitant monthly salary. He should make a sincere apology to the high officials.16

Bailey resumed his vendetta against the Japan Times in the following issue of the Bankoku Shinbunshi, number eight (November–December 1867). On this occasion, it was the unauthorized printing of a map of the proposed Osaka foreign settlement that drew Bailey’s ire: One month ago the Kanagawa Commissioner’s office published [a notice] in Mr. Seare’s newspaper stating that the publication of the Osaka Foreign

14 The author is in debt to Angus Lockyer for assistance in confirming this information. 15 BMSZ, vol. 2, p. 356. In fact the shogun did submit his resignation in November of that month. Note too the fact that John Reddie Black also printed news of the shogun’s resignation (“HITOTSUBASHI has resigned his powers, not in to the hands of another and a successor, (as had been reported), but into the hands of the Mikado himself”) in the Japan Gazette, but Bailey chose to ignore that fact in the pages of his newspaper for reasons unclear. See Black, Young Japan, vol. 2, p. 92. 16 BMSZ, vol. 2, p. 356.



the fin de siècle press 43 Settlement map constituted slander, as it had not been approved by the Japanese government. Publishing a map without the permission of the Japanese government should be considered a rudeness (shitsurei) against the Japanese government and a shameful matter (haji beki tokoro) for Mr. Seare.17

Bailey added that “the publisher of the Japan Times is one who knows of the business of others but not of his own”—and suggested that Seare should be removed from his position: “many foreigners would like to oust Mr. Seare from his position, in accordance with (the wishes of) the Japanese government.” The need for Seare’s dismissal “is an obvious matter in my opinion” and “not something that should surprise him”—rather harsh invective for a newspaper intended to demonstrate “civilization and enlightenment” to educated Japanese readers.18 Illicit trade was also a major target for Bailey, who recognized the power of the press to publicly censure those who broke the law. In issue number three (April–May 1867), for example, we read that “all the breaches of contract and duplicitous dealings of those foreigners staying of late in this port will be printed; we intend to expose their sins.” Such exhortations were not directed only at the foreign community; Japanese officials who allowed illicit trade were equally held up to the Bankoku Shinbunshi’s censure. Of late many people have entered the creek at the end of Motomachi without inspection by the Customs House. I do not know what the Japanese think of this, as they have had one of the finest governments of the world since the earliest times. This illicit trade has carried on for years, amounting in the thousands of dollars, and sadly Japan has become a laughingstock of the world.19

Bailey was obviously concerned with world opinion and bearing the torch of “international” standards and laws. Those who violated such standards, be they foreign or native, were subject to criticism in the Bankoku Shinbunshi’s pages. Attempting to build a bridge to the native population in the pages of the Bankoku Shinbunshi did not obviate the need to air the “dirty laundry” of his fellow Western residents of Yokohama. This is not to suggest that Bailey associated himself with the Japanese—the error in the Japan Times, for example, was shameful for “us,” meaning Westerners in general and Western newspapermen in specific—but that he was willing 17 Ibid., p. 372. 18 Ibid. 19 Ibid., p. 421.

44

chapter two

to side with his hosts and against his fellow Europeans in matters regarding the Japanese government. “Civilization and Enlightenment” In addition to international and local news, advertisements, public notices, and price changes, the Bankoku Shinbunshi also boasted a smorgasbord of additional features: English history (beginning with Stonehenge), rifle shooting tips, jokes, illustrations, and reports about such diverse topics as the Great Wall of China and the Pyramids of Egypt. Occasionally a long opinion piece would appear, such as the one from issue number four (June 1867) entitled “A Method for the Advancement of Japanese Enlightenment” (Nihon no kaika no iki ni susumu shudan). In this lengthy treatise, Bailey makes a remarkable proposal for the future of Japan: A country’s strength and weakness do not depend upon military strength alone. When the nations of the West were developing, they first turned to improving education. It is now a most fortunate time for Japan to do precisely the same. In England, the government is entirely responsible for education of its people. It rectifies customs, provides for the health of its people, facilitates trade, and constructs new factories to build trains, steam ships, telegraphs, and courier services. It develops and promotes methods of mining and agriculture. Even if Japan cannot compare to present-day England, becoming rich should not be difficult.20

Though Bailey did not believe that Japan measured up to England (unsurprising for a midcentury British missionary), he held out hope for the future if only the Japanese could harness modern technology in the service of “enlightening” (kyōka) their citizens. Note that his “method for advancement” follows a rather different tack than the “rich country, strong military” rhetoric that would come to dominate domestic policy a few short years later. England’s method of becoming rich was as follows: First, in peacetime we reduced military expenditures, both in terms of soldiers and ships. Our emphasis was entirely on enlightening (kyōka) the citizenry (kokumin).21

20 BMSZ, vol. 2, pp. 318–319. 21 Ibid., p. 319.



the fin de siècle press 45

And how is enlightenment spread among the citizens? Through modern technology: In days of old, written materials were extremely expensive, so even the rich could not afford them. When the tool called the purinteingu puresu came into wide use, that cost was reduced to a hundredth of what it had been before.22 Thus enlightenment instantly spread across the land. Furthermore, the impetus to utilize steam power has led to various wonders and considerable marvels … power trains, steam ships, and telegraphs, can help us to reach great heights.

The primary weakness of Japan, Bailey noted, was its lack of natural resources (a familiar plaint, of course, even in the present day): However, if the iron, copper, coal, etc., used in manufacture of such items in England is lacking [in Japan], then whatever small amounts can be discovered must be used. Even if Japan takes great care with the silver, gold, copper, and iron that Heaven has bestowed, there is more hidden in the ground and not yet discovered. If in the present day Japan cannot extract that which has been bestowed by Heaven as England did, then this may very well be a period that invites misfortune. Opening [mines of] gold, silver, copper, iron leads to the manufacture of telegraph machines, the building of trains.23

The cautionary tone of the piece belies its major point, which is that the “enlightenment” of a country’s citizens must be the foremost priority of the government. Of course, Bailey’s suggestion that the printing press and the telegraph were keystones of a nation’s enlightenment project was consonant with the goals of the Bankoku Shinbunshi itself. Bailey’s plan for modernizing Japan, it seems, was to follow his own lead. Bankoku Shinbunshi and the Meiji Restoration The Bankoku Shinbunshi ran from February 1867 to June 1869, a period encompassing one of the signal events in Japanese history, known in English as the Meiji Restoration. However, what often appears to contemporary students of history as a coherent narrative—forces opposed to the regime overthrew the shogunate in the name of the emperor—did not appear as such to those who lived through these confusing events. In the words of Paul Cohen, historical actors 22 Bailey picked a rather poor example for his Japanese readership, as the printing press had been tried and rejected as inferior to native woodblock technology over two centuries earlier. 23 BMSZ, p. 319.

46

chapter two did not have the entire “event” preencoded in their heads, and … therefore conceptualized what was happening to them in ways that differed fundamentally from the retrospective, backward-reading constructions of historians.24

A profitable line of inquiry, then, might be to question Bailey’s reading of current events from his own perception of events. As a foreigner sympathetic to the Tokugawa regime, how did the Bankoku Shinbunshi report the “restoration”? As we shall see, Bailey addressed the momentous changes in his host country with an admixture of rumor, fact, prognostication, metaphor, and advice. Our first hint in the Bankoku Shinbunshi that changes were afoot in the political scene comes in issue ten (February 1868), in reference to Tokugawa Akitake’s journey to Europe for the Paris Exhibition of 1867. Akitake— never mentioned by name out of deference to the ruling family—had been referred to in previous issues as “the Tycoon’s honorable brother” (Taikun no mandai), but in this issue we are instead introduced to him as a “young nobleman of Japan” (Nihon kikōshi). Innocuous enough, perhaps, but nonetheless a tacit admission that there was no longer a shogun—and that times had certainly changed since the previous autumn, when the Bankoku Shinbunshi publicly censured those who suggested in print that the shogun had resigned.25 Later in that issue, Bailey confronted the monumental matters of the day in an extended editorial. From his words it is clear that he knew that the Tokugawa regime had crumbled and been replaced by an as-yet-unknown force: When we consider the recent disturbance in the vicinity of Kyoto, it is difficult to imagine an effective government will be the result. Things are happening quickly, and rumors of war remain. However, we are confident that when all is settled the Japanese people will have an effective national government and everyone in the country, including foreigners, will be at ease.26

News of a “recent disturbance,” “rumors of war,” and doubts that a new government could have formed in such a short period of time: Bailey effectively depicts the unsettled state of affairs of early 1868. True to nature,

24 Paul A. Cohen, History in Three Keys: The Boxers as Event, Experience, and Myth (New York: Columbia University Press, 1997), p. xiii. 25 BMSZ, vol. 2, p. 392. 26 This quotation and those following are from Ibid., p. 397.



the fin de siècle press 47

however, he did not sit idly by, but rather proffered a series of suggestions to the new regime: When a wise ruler (meikun) does appear, he must reform the outmoded and brutal government. He must find broad agreement with the laws of the governments of Europe. He must trade with foreign countries, and then pass laws that will enable the government to earn revenue from this and other places.

In addition to this plan to increase national revenue, Bailey offered a plan for social and societal renovation that presages both Fukuzawa Yukichi’s “Encouragement of Learning” (Gakumon no susume) and the Meiji government’s “Preamble to the Fundamental Code of Education” (Ōseidasaresho): [The new government] must establish schools throughout the land and educate young people so that there is not even one illiterate (lit. blind) person among the poor. People are born without distinctions of rank; the only noble thing is the intellect. However, the tradition in some countries is to inherit one’s position by blood—even if a person is a fool, his high position is protected. To discriminate thus irrespective of personal ability greatly violates the principle of Heaven (ooi ni tenri ni somuki), and furthermore makes the people of such countries a laughingstock. Such matters must be reformed. To revolutionize such outmoded laws will quell the cries of the vast millions of people beneath Heaven.27

Sentiments such as these surely resonated with Bailey’s readership, a significant percentage of whom were probably merchants and low-ranking samurai whose personal ambitions were hindered by the hidebound social system. Bailey was also capable of a degree of subtlety in expressing his opinions. On several occasions, translated versions of Aesop’s fables appeared in the Bankoku Shinbunshi, including “The Cat and the Mice,” “The Fox and the Cat,” and “The Bundle of Sticks.” The latter—with its moral “union gives strength”—was likely included as a comment on Japan’s own fractured domestic scene.28 Aesop’s fables were often accompanied by original, high-quality illustrations; “The Bundle of Sticks” story from issue 27 Ibid. 28 “AN OLD man on the point of death summoned his sons around him to give them some parting advice. He ordered his servants to bring in a faggot of sticks, and said to his eldest son: ‘Break it.’ The son strained and strained, but with all his efforts was unable to break the Bundle. The other sons also tried, but none of them was successful. ‘Untie the faggots,’ said the father, ‘and each of you take a stick.’ When they had done so, he called out to them: ‘Now, break,’ and each stick was easily broken. ‘You see my meaning,’ said their father. ‘Union Gives Strength.’”

48

chapter two

fifteen (April 1869) was drawn by Illustrated London News artist and Japan Punch editor/publisher Charles Wirgman (see Chapter Four), who signed his name in Japanese as “Wakuman” 或満 (Fig. 2–1). Another Aesop-style parable appeared in issue sixteen (July 24, 1868). The story tells of a pair of glass bottles floating in a stream. Should they collide, they will smash and sink to the bottom—but if the bottles keep their distance, all will be well. Looking closely at the accompanying illustration (Fig. 2–2) we see that each bottle is decorated with a Japanese crest of arms: on the left the crest of Satsuma, and on the right that of Kumamoto.29 Both domains were instrumental in the overthrow of the Tokugawa shogunate. The implication, of course, is that the great domains in charge of directing the new government needed to set aside their own conflicts and continue moving forward in order to avoid disaster. Despite a regular publication schedule, strong sales, quality content, and a consistent editorial vision, the Bankoku Shinbunshi closed shop after

Fig. 2–1. Charles Wirgman illustration from Bankoku Shinbunshi (April 1869). 29 The author is in debt to M. William Steele for assistance in confirming this information.



the fin de siècle press 49

Fig. 2–2. Illustration from Bankoku Shinbunshi (May 1869).

two years and eighteen issues. The reason remains a mystery, but it has been suggested that Bailey—despite his capabilities as “a newspaperman, teacher, cook, truck-gardener, carpenter, architect, builder, and author”— was incapable of, or unwilling to, manage his financial accounts. In 1871, some two years after his newspaper folded, the trustees of Bailey’s Christ Church resigned en masse, stating that “church affairs have reached a pretty bad state and something had to be done.” The trustees, in fact, went so far as to request that Bailey leave the church (which he did): “it was case of Mr. Bailey present and bad finances,” said the chairman, “or Mr. Bailey absent and good finances.”30 On the basis of such testimony we may safely suggest that Bailey’s poor bookkeeping (and perhaps the overpaying of his editors31) likely led to the downfall of the Bankoku Shinbunshi. The lacuna of foreign-owned Japanese-language newspapers, however, was brief. Eugene Van Reed and Kishida Ginkō’s Yokohama Shinpō Moshiogusa In 1853 the castaway Joseph Heco met Eugene Van Reed in San Francisco, and inspired him to learn Japanese and consider commercial possibilities in the orient. By chance they met again in Hawaii five years later—both

30 Bailey left Yokohama the following year “on sick leave.” See Harold S. Williams, “The Energetic Rev. M. Buckworth Bailey,” in Foreigners in Mikadoland (Tokyo: Charles E. Tuttle and Company, 1963), p. 132–139; quotations may be found on p. 137. 31 The first editor’s salary was two ryō two bu per month, an extravagant sum for the time. See NSSZ, bekkan, pp. 127–128.

50

chapter two

were awaiting passage to Kanagawa and employment with the U.S. Consulate (Heco as interpreter, Van Reed as clerk). Heco’s future path we have discussed, but what of young Van Reed? As it turns out, he quit the diplomatic corps shortly after his arrival and devoted his full attention to mercantile activities. In addition to working for a prominent American trading firm, Augustine, Heard, and Company, he also worked privately (and secretly) with powerful anti-Tokugawa domains of Satsuma and Chōshū in the early 1860s. He envisioned selling arms shipments, steamships, and other instruments of warfare, in addition to “renting large parcels of land at choice locations along in the waterfront” in the event Chōshū opened to foreign trade.32 Van Reed believed that the bakufu’s foreign policy was both antiquated and obstructionist, and that a civil war would surely bring about new and better opportunities for commerce and trade. Because the Tokugawa government did not finally collapse until 1868, however, Van Reed developed another moneymaking scheme: export labor to the Kingdom of Hawaii. This met with limited commercial success—and also great opprobrium from the new Meiji government. It was during this period that Van Reed also published a Japaneselanguage newspaper, entitled Yokohama Shinpō Moshiogusa (“Yokohama News Anthology”). From 1868 to 1870, he used the newspaper to articulate quite sophisticated visions of Japanese foreign and domestic policy.33 Though Van Reed had published a small Japanese grammar entitled Shōyōkaiwa 商用会話 in 1861, he lacked the requisite language skills to write and edit a newspaper in Japanese—nor could he possibly have had the time, when one considers his multiple commercial ventures. At this point Kishida Ginkō, recently returned from Shanghai with James Hepburn, reenters the stage. Kishida, who was not short of entrepreneurial spirit himself, was hunting for a new business opportunity when he learned, probably through Heco, of Van Reed’s intentions to found a new Japanese-language newspaper. The two men established a relationship, and the newspaper—twelve pages in length, at a cost of one monme— began publication in Yokohama’s foreign settlement on June 1, 1868. A pocket-sized digest sporting a distinctive yellow cover, the Moshiogusa 32 Augustine Heard Collection, Baker University Library, Harvard University, HM-58-1, Van Reed to Heard, September 9, October 3, 1864. As quoted in Kevin Claude Murphy, The American Merchant Experience in Nineteenth-Century Japan (London: Routledge Curzon, 2003), p. 155. 33 Literally, “Yokohama News Seaweed-Salt-Grass”; the latter word is of poetical provenance and appears in classic texts such as the Genji Monogatari. See U.A. Casal, “Salt,” in Monument Nipponica, vol. 14, no. 1/2 (April–July 1958), p. 66.



the fin de siècle press 51

ambitiously announced in the first issue that “our newspaper will—in addition, of course, to timely domestic news—translate and publish same-day news from America, France, England, and Shanghai and Hong Kong” on a schedule of approximately ten issues per month. Though circulation figures do not exist, the first issue is known to have gone through two printings, indicative of an unexpectedly high level of readership. Given the paper’s longevity, those numbers must have remained fairly level. The prospectus appearing in the first issue of Moshiogusa explains its origins, while also distancing itself from the rest of the field: After Heco’s Shinbunshi ended, there were no newspapers for a long time. In the first month of last year, our friend Bailey’s Bankoku Shinbunshi was published, but this too ceased publication with number ten. We thought this deeply lamentable, as a newspaper is an extremely useful thing—in fact there are no civilized nations without them. However, the reasons that newspapers have as yet to thrive in Japan is the following: first, the number of people who understand the use of newspapers is very small; and second, they are written by editors who fancy themselves scholars and write impenetrable sentences with difficult Chinese characters (Shina moji) mixed in, and whose newspapers are late and comprised of outdated and quotidian stories…. Therefore we will begin with market trends, while unusual stories, marvelous tales, and outdated matters will find no place in our pages. We will double-check our sources and will most certainly not print rumors. It is our hope that many gentlemen will purchase our news(paper).34

One suspects that this criticism is at least partially directed toward “our friend” Bailey, whose Bankoku Shinbunshi frequently ran articles on “outdated matters” (an English history section led off most issues) and “unusual stories and marvelous tales” (though not in such quantity as Heco’s Kaigai Shinbun). Enjoying Extraterritoriality The cover of each issue listed its place of publication as “No. 93, Van Reed,” referring to Van Reed’s home at number 93 in the foreign settlement. However, as Kishida related in a memoir written decades later, the newspaper was not actually published in Yokohama, but rather with the publishing house of Ebisuya Shōshichi in Edo’s Terifuri-chō.35 Furthermore, 34 BMSZ, vol. 2, p. 251. 35 Sugiyama Sakae 杉山栄, Sengakusha Kishida Ginkō 先駆者岸田吟香 (Ōzorasha 大空社, 1952), p. 133.

52

chapter two

editor Kishida’s name appeared nowhere in Japanese. Rather, the name “K.S. ASOM” appears printed in block roman letters on the cover of every issue. The “Asom” refers to family progenitor Kishida Ason, the “K” for “Kishida,” and the “S” for “Sakura,” the Japanese word for cherry blossom and a frequent element among Kishida’s many pseudonyms.36 “Ginji Kicida” was also stamped in red ink on many copies, though age has caused many of these to fade to illegibility. Thus by omitting its editor’s actual Japanese name as well as its place of publication, Moshiogusa was able to take advantage of extraterritorial rights and publish without government interference, about which more will be said momentarily. Furthermore, though Van Reed’s name appeared on the cover of every issue, he is not known to have written any of the articles save those few bearing his byline—though he clearly influenced the content of the newspaper on several occasions, as we shall see shortly. Before proceeding, a word about Japan’s “civil war press” is in order. As bakufu authority in Edo disintegrated in the spring of 1868, there was a period of a few months when members of the pro-Tokugawa intelligentsia—alerted to the social value of a free press by texts such as Fukuzawa Yukichi’s Seiyō jijō (“Western Things”), and drawing on both the native tradition of kawaraban and the foreign introduction of the Yokohama press—rushed in to fill the void with news and political commentary. These papers were not daily, or even regular, but the push of events caused these papers to adhere to a rough schedule of periodicity. Ono Hideo has labeled the first year of Meiji as the “age of the sudden rise of our country’s first newspapers,” during which supporters and opponents of the old regime fought a “verbal war.”37 First and foremost was Yanagawa Shunsan’s Chūgai Shinbun, which debuted two and a half months before the Moshiogusa, in March of 1868. Yanagawa, like most of the other civil war publisher/editors, was a Tokugawa employee and an ardent supporter of the ancien régime. Shortly after the shogunate’s Shōgitai forces were defeated in Ueno on July 4, however, the Meiji government enacted a series of decrees aimed at quashing the Edo media. One declared that all new books would require government permission before printing, while another officially prohibited all unlicensed newspapers—and between the two of them, the “civil war press” was put out of business. Yanagawa died “broken and disillusioned” two years later.38 36 BMSZ, vol. 4, p. 9. 37 Ono Hideo, Nihon shinbun hattatsu shi, p. 26. 38 Huffman, Creating a Public: People and Press in Meiji Japan, p. 47.



the fin de siècle press 53

As an American citizen, Van Reed was not subject to any Japanese law. His extraterritorial rights allowed him to publish without regard for bakufu or Meiji censor, and under his aegis, the Moshiogusa was able to maintain its regular publication schedule through its forty-third and final issue in April of 1870. However, Kishida learned that if the newspaper were to succeed financially, he would need to maintain an attitude consistent with his readership: in the pro-Tokugawa Kantō region, it would have been commercial suicide to publish articles friendly to the imperial forces marching toward Edo. Even in the first issue, Kishida intentionally misreported the battle of Funabashi, stating falsely that troops of Bizen and Tōdō had been defeated by Tokugawa troops, when in fact the opposite was the case. Kishida admitted years later that he ran such articles for economic reasons: the more accounts there were of imperial defeats, the greater the sales were among the pro-bakufu Edo readership. This is not to suggest, however, that Kishida or Van Reed felt any loyalty to the Tokugawa shogunate, as did the publishers and reporters of the “civil war press.” While men such as Yanagawa were sympathetic to their former employers, Kishida felt no such sense of loyalty to the Tokugawa regime—nor should we expect that he would have, considering the privation of the “Ansei Purge” years (1858–1859) when many of his colleagues were exiled or imprisoned. Neither was Van Reed any friend of the shogunate: “the gov’t alone was our enemy,” he recalled, “the daimyos (naturally ambitious) were our friends.”39 Thus unlike the “civil war” press, the Moshiogusa served the needs of no cause—save that of furthering Van Reed’s own commercial ambitions. “A New Policy” and Other Editorials In some respects Moshiogusa resembled Kishida’s prior journalistic effort, Joseph Heco’s Shinbunshi. Both reported on contemporary affairs, included satirical verse and reports from “the field,” and were decidedly antiTokugawa in tone. Both newspapers, too, were freed from the bonds of Tokugawa censorship, since their publishers were American citizens living in Yokohama. The Moshiogusa, however, marked a departure for Kishida in terms of his own freedom of expression—this was an opportunity to

39 Augustine Heard Collection, Baker University Library, Harvard University, HM-58-1, Van Reed to Heard, June 6, 1864. As quoted in Murphy, American Merchant Experience, p. 155.

54

chapter two

give free reign to his own opinions on Japan’s troubled domestic situation, and he took full advantage. In the very first editorial (June 1, 1868), he excoriated the former Tokugawa regime and expressed hope that the new Meiji government would do away with the “foul customs” of the past: It has been rumored that with the restoration of the Kingly Government (ōsei fukko), old evils will be wiped away. We are first among our fellows who chomp at the bit in anticipation, waiting for the new laws. The old foul customs must be swept away, and civilized laws must be handed down. The laws of the previous government were greatly restrictive and inconvenient; no matter what the issue, nothing could be done efficiently. Thus evil officials seized the chance to wantonly flaunt their power, hatch various evil plans, hassle the merchants, and thus to enrich themselves. These sorts of things are to be loathed in the extreme.40

The editorial ends on a hopeful (if unrealistic) note: If these evils are wiped away, and a fair and equitable Kingly Government is restored, then all will proceed smoothly. As trade steadily increases, we expect that merchants of all nations will arrive, and that (Japan) will become a rich and strong country within one year’s time.41

Later editorials developed these basic themes, criticizing the “petty habits” of the Tokugawas and expressing hope that the imperial government would make the necessary reforms to transform Japan into a civilized power. In issue number twenty-two (October 24, 1868), foreign ministers were criticized for selling armaments to both sides of the civil conflict: “if the foreign ministers exhausted their energies the conflict in Japan would end tomorrow.” When the outcome of the war became clearer, the arrival of the emperor into Edo was welcomed—the only regret being that as the imperial procession passed through Kanagawa, the emperor was covered by a screen and therefore not visible to the public (issue twenty-eight, December 11, 1868). Van Reed also pontificated on Japan’s domestic and international policy, signing his name in Japanese as “#93 Van Reed,” “American Van Reed,” or “#93 American Van Reed.” The most remarkable of these appeared in issue number twelve, published (intentionally, to be sure) on America’s Independence Day, July 4, 1868. In a prescient essay entitled “New Policy” (Shinsaku), he argued for the creation of a national government “united behind a single flag,” with a common currency and military. A necessary prerequisite, however, was concluding Japan’s civil war: 40 BMSZ, vol. 4, p. 253. 41 Ibid.



the fin de siècle press 55 Presently the most urgent matter in Japan is to quell the domestic turmoil. The fighting continues daily—when it ceases in one place, it begins again in another. This reduces national power and weakens the four classes. Eventually, it will reach the point where Japan loses its national essence (kokutai) in the face of the world. At home, not enough effort is put controlling the people—everyone makes their own private plans, while every day national matters reach the brink [of disaster]. Truly, we are in what it may be termed the autumn of a life-or-death crisis.42

The answer to Japan’s problems, Van Reed wrote, was to be found not in the individual domains, but in a wider confederation of all Japan: At this time a princely man must construct a policy of peace for the sake of the realm. How can we sit silently by? How can we do nothing for fear of reprisals from those who selfishly ignore matters of the realm, and who claim that the time is not yet ripe for action? In this country the government must be of a single accord, and its authority must be sufficient domestically to serve the people, and internationally to guard against the abuse of other countries.43

In order to achieve this goal, he continued, “the people of the country must all serve a single government,” and only then will peace prevail: If one desires a lasting peace, the troops, weaponry, castles, money and food for troops, war ships, etc.—that is, all matters relating to the military—must be consolidated by the national government and put under single command. The new government should proceed to this task at the nearest opportunity.44

Anticipating daimyo resistance to the renouncement of their own sovereignty, Van Reed suggested a plan of appeasement: A joint document should be issued to the daimyo, and a commensurate remuneration awarded from the treasury. All government decisions must be completely accepted by the daimyo, so that the government can present a united front to foreign countries. The national flag of Japan must be used on currency and by the military to display prestige and power … If all of these things are accomplished, there will be no traitors among the lords, the country will enjoy a long peace, and Japan’s prestige and power will blossom and prosper.45

A final word of advice contained a pointed criticism of the Meiji government’s self-styled title “Great Japan” (Dainippon), nomenclature that had only recently come into use: 42 BMSZ, vol. 4, p. 288. 43 Ibid. 44 Ibid. 45 BMSZ, vol. 4, p. 289.

56

chapter two And yet if the internal conflict is not settled, all advantages will be lost— how then will it be so simple to wipe away evil customs? Japanese people who look at a map understand that their country is extremely small. Is it not cheating the people to refer to the country as “Great Japan”? Foreign countries surely find this to be ridiculous.46

The article, signed by “American Van Reed” (Beikoku Banrido), is remarkable not so much for its polemic power as for its prophetic quality. The new government appears to have followed Van Reed’s advice to the letter, moving quickly to end the civil conflict, create a national army and a national currency, and outlaw several “evil customs.” This is not particularly unusual, given that the Charter Oath of 1868—the first statement of national policy enunciated by the Meiji government—stipulated that a unified Japan would abolish old customs. Rather, what is particularly striking about in Van Reed’s “New Policy” is his suggestion that the domains hand over military and financial control to the central government in exchange for a “joint document” and financial remuneration. When Van Reed’s editorial appeared in July 1868, the plan of returning the domain registers to the emperor was barely in its formative stages. It was only by the end of that year, in fact, that Chōshū leaders in the Meiji government had begun to consider abolishing the domains. Itō Hirobumi’s earliest mention of the matter did not come until December of that year, when he suggested that domains should surrender their land and people to the emperor in exchange for a stipend and membership in a newly formed aristocracy—a policy quite similar to Van Reed’s own suggestion of several months earlier.47 The point here is not to prove that Van Reed’s newspaper was a determinant of Meiji domestic policy. Unlike Heco’s paper, which was read and shared by many who would later occupy seats in the Meiji government, there is no record of the Moshiogusa having influenced any decision of the Meiji government. Rather, we might take from this essay the fact that at least one foreign resident of Yokohama (and one who was not, strictly speaking, a member of the diplomatic corps) had an acute sense of the domestic situation in bakumatsu Japan. In an age of misinformation and rumor, he understood what needed to happen, and his opinions on how it might be accomplished resonated with those of Meiji policymakers.

46 Ibid. 47 Kido Takayoshi bunsho 木戸孝允文書, ed. Nihon Shiseki Kyōkai 日本史蹟協会 (Tokyo, 1929–1931), vol. 3, pp. 237–243; as quoted in W.G. Beasley, The Meiji Restoration (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1972), p. 330.



the fin de siècle press 57

Furthermore, we should remember that Van Reed did not necessarily seek the dissolution of the Tokugawa regime. His concern was simply to end the civil war and rebuild Japan along modern lines. Van Reed’s own merchant activities bore this position out perfectly: he never dealt exclusively with one side or the other, but rather ran arms and ammunitions for shogunate officials as well as officials from the anti-shogunate domains of Chōshū and Satsuma.48 As an American whose country had recently concluded its own disastrous war, Van Reed was sensitive to the international ramifications of such a conflict. The civil war in Japan was a “life-or-death crisis” that threatened the very “national essence” itself and left the country open to the “insults of the countries of the world.” Van Reed, a scheming opportunist of the first order, was moved to defend Japan against foreign intrusions that could impinge upon his own interests. In any event, editorials like the “New Policy”—as well as a later editorial, which likened Tokugawa Hitotsubashi’s renouncement of shogunal authority in November 1867 to “throwing away a torn shoe”—demonstrated Van Reed’s realist approach to domestic policy: the more stable the government, the better the commercial opportunities.49 Cartooning in the Moshiogusa Van Reed’s newspaper occasionally featured what would in contemporary parlance be referred to as “political cartoons,” though this is not to suggest that they were simply an earlier Japanese variation of the modern form. Rather, the illustrations and text that appeared in Van Reed’s newspaper were an extension of a purely Japanese tradition of political satire. The cartoons were not authored by Van Reed, nor could they have been, given his limited Japanese language ability. However, they clearly reflected his critical stance toward Western involvement in the civil war, despite—or perhaps because of—his own commercial interests in supplying armaments to both sides. One cartoon (Fig. 2–3), appearing in the July 24, 1868, issue, depicted a large foreign man (his foreignness indicated by his imposing size, facial hair, and elongated nose) carrying all manner of weapons, cannons, spears, rifles, and even a ship slung over his shoulder. He is conversing with a diminutive Japanese soldier, who has tipped his cap in greeting and 48 Altman, “Eugene Van Reed,” p. 11. 49 For “abuses,” see BMSZ, vol. 4, p. 287; “torn shoe,” Ibid., p. 301.

58

chapter two

Fig. 2–3. Illustration from Moshiogusa (July 24, 1868).

appears to hold a severed head behind his back. The dialogue accompanying the text runs as follows: Westerner: Good Morning! As you can see, I’m breaking my back here, but if there’s fighting to be done, you’ll emerge victorious. Japanese Soldier: Your goods are all very nice. Westerner: Yes, we have all the tools of war—whatever you need, we can supply.



the fin de siècle press 59

Japanese Soldier: As you can see, I’ve only got a few things—but since the battle is still raging, I’m going to need more supplies. However, it takes a lot of money to pay for weapons, and I’m poor. If I can’t pay with an I.O.U. then I’m in trouble. Westerner: No, it’s fine if you don’t pay in cash; you can just owe me. That way, until there’s not even a single person left who wants to fight, north or south, the battle won’t stop, no matter how many years it takes— which is just fine with me. Japanese Soldier: Thank you. I can’t pay cash, I’m very sorry to say. Westerner: Don’t mention it at all, it’s no trouble. There is a bag on my right elbow with dollars, ichibu, nibu, and so forth. Take whatever you need— you can pay me back later. Only leave me my hat, please. Japanese Soldier: Thanks so much for your kindness. I’ll take what you’ve got on your shoulder, what’s stuck between your arms, what you’re carrying and pulling—I’ll take all of it. I’m so very happy, but I can only thank you with words. From now on, I’ll be the one breaking my back. I’ll fight hard until there’s no one left to fight, north or south, or until my own life is no more. Westerner: Excellent. Ah, afterwards, I’ll need to take your Fuji mountain, and two or three big islands, if that’s okay. Goodbye! Japanese solider: After we part company, I wonder if that person will wear Fuji as a hood—I don’t know, but it is most mysterious!50 This dialogue aptly parodies the actual relationship between arms dealers and the two sides fighting in the civil war. Westerners successfully sold guns and supplies (some left over from America’s own recently concluded civil conflict) to both bakufu and pro-imperial forces during the decade of the 1860s, and no doubt some of these men would have been content to continue to do so “no matter how many years it takes” to settle the conflict. The piece also parodies the Japanese side of the equation, portraying the solider as a man who blithely borrows military equipment so that he can fight to the bitter end, all while failing to grasp the significance of surrendering Japan’s most sacred natural feature in exchange. Neither side emerges unscathed in this episode. Consider once again the irony of a Western arms dealer printing doggerel (as well as an unflattering cartoon) explicitly critical of Western arms dealers and their native customers. Why would Van Reed consent to

50 BMSZ, vol. 4, pp. 302–305.

60

chapter two

running articles critical of his own business interests? Perhaps he was not aware of the cartoon, since Kishida did the most of the writing and editing, and Van Reed had limited Japanese language ability. Possibly he encouraged its publication to throw critics “off the scent.” Van Reed would certainly not have been the first to use a newspaper in such a fashion. One might also entertain the possibility that Van Reed simply enjoyed the irony of its publication. Another cartoon (Fig. 2–4), with an accompanying editorial (January 28, 1869), draws together Van Reed’s “New Policy” of issue twelve with the actions of Western arms dealers in the Japanese civil war: Around May, in the “New Policy” printed in issue number twelve of this newspaper, I argued that in order for the Japanese people to permanently secure their own sovereignty, they must quickly quell the civil conflict, and not give free rein to their own base customs in front of foreign countries. I said this because civil war is the greatest damage that can be done to a country…. I know full well the facts of this matter, having witnessed this myself during the four years of civil conflict in my own country of America. Presently the conflict between the two domains of Mutsu and Dewa has subsided, and it seems as though there would be peace, but the remaining naval and army troops will not resign themselves to surrender. There are various rumors that they have left Mutsu and Dewa and removed to a strategic location in the north, waiting for an opportunity to stage an incident and plot to rally the forces into action once more. This is all baseless rumor and wild talk, and by no means the settled truth.51

Here Van Reed refers to an event that was by no means a “baseless rumor.” A group of former Tokugawa retainers—led by the former head of the bakufu navy, Enomoto Takeaki—had fled to Ezo (present-day Hokkaidō) with a fleet of warships, intending to establish a separatist regime in the north. The fleet occupied the port of Hakodate on December 8 and shortly thereafter claimed possession of the entire island. On January 27, 1869— the day before the issue of the Moshiogusa in question appeared— Enomoto was elected the Governor General of the “Tokugawa Government of Yesso” and was subsequently recognized in diplomatic correspondence by the American government.52 That Van Reed knew of the situation is evidenced by his subsequent offer to serve as a private negotiator between

51 BMSZ, vol. 4, p. 361. 52 See M. William Steele, “The United States and Japan’s Civil War,” in International Christian University Publications III-A: Asian Cultural Studies (Tokyo: International Christian University, Institute of Asian Cultural Studies, March, 1999), pp. 57–63.



the fin de siècle press 61

Enomoto and the Meiji government (he had offered Enomoto asylum in Hawaii, as well).53 The month previous, in fact, Van Reed had traveled far north to Sendai to meet with Enomoto and others. Why, then, the denial in this article? Perhaps for the same reason that he spoke out against foreign arms dealers, when he himself was running arms on both sides of the conflict: Van Reed used his newspaper to counter possible accusations against his own personal dealings in Japan’s civil war. Van Reed had no authority to interfere in the conflict (and no permission to travel to Sendai to meet with Enomoto, for that matter), and his labors were appreciated by neither the new Japanese government nor his own consulate. The editorial in issue thirty-two continues to place blame for the civil war on the Tokugawa regime: by “blithely” concluding a treaty without first consulting the daimyo, the shogunate had committed an egregious error: The present conflict began about ten years ago, when the American Minister [Townsend Harris] came to Yokohama. Public opinion had split over the

Fig. 2–4. Illustration from Moshiogusa (January 28, 1869). 53 John E. Van Sant, Pacific Pioneers, Japanese Journeys to American and Hawaii, 1850– 1880 (Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2000), p. 101.

62

chapter two issue of “expelling the barbarians” (jōi), but whether it would end in war or peace had not yet been settled. However, the old Tokugawa regime blithely took it upon itself to conclude a trade treaty. Thus persons espousing differing opinions emerged from among the lords; some said that the virtue of the Tokugawas had decayed, and furthermore that events would presently culminate in a great revolution.54

Like the cartoon in Fig. 2–3, the essay concludes with a remonstrance against the evils of purchasing arms from foreigners on credit. Intriguingly, Van Reed emphasizes a connection between national debt and the erosion of traditional patterns of Neo-Confucian morality. To borrow money from abroad, it seems, is to damage the hierarchical relationships binding society together: It is said that when a country is at war, there is no need to worry about being plundered by foreigners. This is a foolish theory and cannot be believed. In present-day Japan, warships, cannon, bullets, gunpowder, uniforms, and different kinds of swords are needed in large quantities. These items are difficult to procure, and must therefore be bought from foreigners. However, to give vast sums of money to foreign countries to buy such things, is to willingly dissolve the hierarchical bonds holding society together. As a result relations between high and low are weakened, and there is no support of ruler for ruled, or parent for child.55

In other words, Van Reed envisioned a breakdown of Japanese society occurring as a direct result of foreign “plundering” of Japan’s treasury. Similarly, as we have seen in the dialogue between the Japanese soldier and the Western arms merchant, borrowing from abroad may also result in the loss of Japan’s own natural heritage: the loss of Mount Fuji. In fact, the cartoon that accompanies this piece (Fig. 2–4) depicts just such an occurrence, as a Japanese person and a foreigner wrestle for control of that most sacred symbol of Dai Nippon; note that the foreigner seems to have a better grip of Mount Fuji, while the Japanese man’s tenuous hold appears to be slipping. Van Reed concludes the piece with a familiar plaint: “national military costs are highly worrisome, but another way must be found to relieve Japan of this concern rather than to borrow money from foreigners.” Whether the Meiji leaders took such advice to heart is not possible to determine, but the new government energetically looked for alternative sources of funding other than foreign loans, and national selfsufficiency became a hallmark of fiscal policy. This is not to suggest that 54 Ibid. 55 Ibid.



the fin de siècle press 63

the Meiji government lifted policy from the pages of the Moshiogusa, but we should note once again the symmetry between Van Reed’s theory and the Meiji government’s praxis. The Moshiogusa and its publisher were clearly attuned to domestic and international Japanese politics, despite Van Reed’s professed ignorance of events in Hokkaidō and elsewhere. The Moshiogusa and Hawaii In addition to his merchant activities, Van Reed also tried his hand at the diplomatic trade, primarily to orchestrate the illegal emigration of approximately one hundred and fifty Japanese laborers (known to history as the gannenmono, or “first year people”) to the Hawaiian Islands.56 With the help of Hawaiian foreign minister Robert C. Wylie, Van Reed successfully lobbied King Kamehamela V for a position as consul general of the Hawaiian Kingdom at Kanagawa in April 1865. He was thereupon charged with the responsibility of concluding a trade of “amity and commerce” between Hawaii and Japan—an odd position for a American merchant barely out of his twenties, but one he undertook with great aplomb. This narrative will not be recounted here, but rather we will highlight the role the Moshiogusa played as tool of pro-Hawaiian emigration propaganda.57 In the 1860s, Hawaii was not yet a possession of the United States, but American influence on the islands had been felt since whaling-ship crews and Christian missionaries first settled there some forty years earlier. When the whaling industry declined with the advent of widespread kerosene-oil use in the 1860s, sugar cane replaced whale oil as Hawaii’s primary economic export. Sugar required cheap labor, however, which was in short supply due to the scourge of disease brought to the islands by Americans and Europeans. In March 1865, Wylie—who, in addition to his diplomatic duties, was also a major player in the Hawaiian sugar industry—wrote a letter to Van Reed indicating his interest in importing Japanese workers to harvest sugar cane and help repopulate the islands. Van Reed spent the next few years working out the details, and finally in 56 Altman surmises that it was “a post he wanted for the advantages he believed the official position offered him as a trader, and for the possibilities it opened up to realize a handsome profit through speculation in Japanese gold coins”; see “Eugene Van Reed, a Reading Man in Japan,” p. 12. 57 The most comprehensive treatment in English of Van Reed’s Hawaiian adventures appears in John E. Van Sant, “The Gannenmono, Eugene Van Reed, and the Emergence of Japan-Hawaii-U.S. Relations,” chapter 5 of Pacific Pioneers, pp. 97–116. See also Altman, “Eugene Van Reed,” pp. 12ff.

64

chapter two

April 1868, bakufu officials gave him permission to send up to four hundred laborers on three-year contracts. As the ship was readying to leave, Tokugawa forces lost control of the administration of Yokohama, and the new Meiji government refused to authorize the ship’s departure. Nonetheless, it sailed illegally in May and arrived in Honolulu the following month. A few months later, the Moshiogusa gloated over the success of Van Reed’s venture. In issue twenty, published on October 12, 1868, the reader is briefly introduced to the islands by means of a map and the accompanying text: In 1778, while sailing on a splendid English ship, [Captain James] Cook spotted the islands and gave them the name by which they are generally known, the Sandwich Islands. There are eight islands in total. In (distance) they are approximately 16,100 li. The number of residents is 150,000.58

A letter by Makino Tomisaburo, an armor maker whom Van Reed had charged as the head of the group, described the journey and conditions of the Japanese settlers.59 On the evening of 25th of the fourth month, Makino writes, the ship set sail from Yokohama, arriving safely in Honolulu thirty-five days later. From there, the group soon split up. About thirty left for the island of Hawaii, and another ten were sent to work at the sugar factory on the island of Lanai. Makino explains that living and working conditions in Hawaii were nearly utopian. When the laborers arrived in Hawaii, they were “kindly taken care of by the natives…given hats, clothing, and so on,” with “room, board, and medicinal baths carefully provided.”60 Hawaii itself is a very warm country, with seasons comparable to a Japanese summer and winter …. there is no fog or snow. Watermelon, mango fruit, apples, grapes, and pears all grow year-round—it is a great place to live …. Neither in the mornings nor the evenings has even one drunk or disorderly person appeared in the streets; in temperament, the people are all quiet.61

Each of the workers was to be given four dollars per month, and then returned safely to their homes in Japan in three years’ time.

58 BMSZ, vol. 4, pp. 320–321. 59 Masaji Marumoto, “‘First-Year’ Immigrants to Hawaii and Eugene Van Reed,” in East Across the Pacific: Historical and Sociological Studies of Japanese Immigration and Assimilation, ed. Hilary Conroy and T. Scott Miyakawa (ABC-Clio, 1972), p. 20. 60 Ibid., p. 319. 61 BMSZ, vol. 4, p. 318–319.



the fin de siècle press 65

In retrospect, it is clear that this account of life in Hawaii is rife with falsehoods and exaggerations. In fact, plantation owners were immediately unhappy with their new labor pool: the Japanese lack “physical stamina” and “fortitude in sickness,” an article in the Honolulu Express read; they are not the ceaseless workers the Chinese are … they have lived a life irregular and precarious, never prompt, never hurried, and it will require patience to train them to the promptness of civilization.62

Nor did the Japanese find Hawaii to be a paradise of warm weather and abundant fruit. One man committed suicide soon after arrival, while another’s death prompted the plantation owner to demand a full refund. Most were sick during the first few days they worked and required medical attention. Reports of whipping were not uncommon.63 General dissatisfaction with this state of affairs on the part of both the Japanese and the plantation owners created diplomatic difficulties and led to criticisms that Van Reed had engaged in the “coolie trade.” In sum, the experiment was judged a failure on all sides, and it would be over a decade before another attempt was made. As a postscript, a Treaty of Amity and Commerce was signed between Hawaii and Japan in 1871, but Van Reed’s name was not on it. Because of his “discourteous actions toward the Japanese government,” the new Meiji government refused to recognize his signature (it was signed instead by the American minister to Japan, who was temporarily appointed Hawaiian minister). In crossing the Meiji government, Van Reed had become a persona non grata in Japan, and he left the country in 1873. He contracted pulmonary tuberculosis in that year and died en route to United States on February 3, 1873, at the age of thirty-eight. Kishida, meanwhile, had ended his partnership with Van Reed some months earlier to pursue a steamship service from Tokyo to Yokohama.64 Conclusions M. Buckworth Bailey’s Bankoku Shinbunshi and Eugene Van Reed and Kishida Ginkō’s Moshiogusa remain the “orphans” of bakumatsu media 62 “Hints Concerning Japanese Immigrants,” in Hawaiian Gazette, July 8, 1868; as quoted in Van Sant, Pacific Pioneers, p. 107. 63 Van Sant, Pacific Pioneers, p. 108. 64 See BMSZ, vol. 4, p. 8; and Kishida Ginkō, “Shinbun jisturekidan,” p. 64. Ono Hideo argues that a six-week gap in publication between issues seventeen and eighteen (from late July to mid-September 1868) suggests that the editorial change occurred during this period.

66

chapter two

history, as their hybrid status as foreign-owned Japanese-language newspapers has complicated their inclusion into the institutional lineage of the Japanese media. Given their international parentage, it is indeed difficult to fit these newspapers into the evolutionary history of the native mass media—which is why they are nowhere to be found in standard chronicles of the period. However, the Moshiogusa and Bankoku Shinbunshi appeared during a particularly rich and vital stage in the history of the Japanese press—the age of the “civil war” papers, a group of periodicals published in and around Edo during the power vacuum created by the dissolution of Tokugawa influence in 1868. The “civil war press” is remembered with much fondness for the heady freedoms its editors (briefly) enjoyed, and the excitement that greeted the appearance of each issue. The efforts of Bailey and Van Reed are remembered with no such nostalgia. Non-Japanese historians have consistently overlooked or misunderstood these two important newspapers, in large part because they could not read them—James Hoare’s erroneous comment that Japanese-language newspapers in Yokohama “were mainly compilations which avoided comment, especially on politics” is a case in point.65 As we have seen, however, the Bankoku Shinbunshi and Yokohama Shinpō Moshiogusa—neither native nor foreign, neither uniformly pro- nor anti-bakufu, neither completely for nor against Western involvement in Japan—were by virtue of their hybrid status vital conduits of analysis and opinion.

65 James Hoare, Japan’s Treaty Ports and Foreign Settlements: The Uninvited Guests, 1858–1899 (Folkestone: Japan Library, 1994), p. 164.

CHAPTER THREE

ALBERT W. HANSARD AND THE JAPAN HERALD: CONFLICT, CONTROVERSY, AND THE “INSIDE STORY” Newspapers are considered to be building blocks in the creation of a “public sphere,” and yet the very public character of the press belies the degree to which the media may be used to propitiate private quarrels. As Marshall McLuhan has noted, both book and newspaper are confessional in character, creating the effect of inside story by their mere form, regardless of content… [the] press page yields the inside story of the community in action and interaction.1

In contrast to Joseph Heco’s Kaigai Shinbun or Eugene Van Reed’s Yokohama Shinpō Moshiogusa, however, the “inside story” of Yokohama’s English-language press was characterized by nothing so much as conflict and controversy; indeed, the harsh rhetoric of the newspapers we will explore in this chapter calls into question whether the European and American residents belonged to a coherent “community” at all. Our primary focus will be the cornerstone of Yokohama’s English-language press, Albert W. Hansard’s Japan Herald (which ran for five contentious years, from 1861 to 1866) and its primary competitors/adversaries, the Japan Commercial News and the Japan Express. The “Ambitious” Albert W. Hansard Our discussion of the English-language press begins not in Yokohama, but in the southern port of Nagasaki, which had a centuries-old history of foreign relations via the Dutch and the offshore trading outpost of Dejima. According to the stipulations of treaties concluded with Holland, America, France, Russia, and Great Britain, the entire port itself opened to foreign residence and commerce in 1859. It was there that the first Englishlanguage news periodical, the Nagasaki Shipping List and Advertiser, was published by a British citizen named Albert W. Hansard. Hansard, born in

 1 Marshall McLuhan, Understanding Media (London: Routledge Classics, 2002), p. 222.

68

chapter three

London in 1821, came from a family of printers. His father, Thomas Curson Hansard, published the well-known Hansard’s Parliamentary Debates, which chronicled the words of British Parliament speakers for much of the nineteenth century.2 In 1849, while still in his twenties, Albert Hansard immigrated to New Zealand, which was at that time a burgeoning British colony. He established himself as a real estate and land agent, but also kept his hand in the newspaper trade by lecturing on the press and press history at the Auckland Mechanics Institute.3 It is not known why or when he dissolved his interests and left New Zealand, but sometime between August and December of 1861, he moved to Nagasaki and took up the “family business.” The first issue of his Nagasaki Shipping List and Advertiser appeared on June 22, 1861, and true to his heritage as a printer-publisher, Hansard outlined an ambitious and sophisticated agenda for his new publication from that very first issue: We are, even in this our earliest infancy, ambitious—we think that we may be a means towards satisfying the craving which seems to be rapidly increasing at home, and indeed in all parts of the world—for more knowledge about Japan; with this view we shall at all times endeavor to find room for any intelligence at command, not only about our trade and commerce— and social progress—but for original interesting particulars of the beautiful country in which we are located—and its interesting people:—and that we may make our paper acceptable to its subscribers in Japan we shall carefully compile such summaries of intelligences, from the various sources which are at command, as will be likely to be interesting to them.4

Hansard published the Shipping List and Advertiser twice weekly (Satur­ days for shipping intelligence, Wednesdays for editorials and news) from June 22 to October 1, 1861, for a total of twenty-eight issues. With its mix of editorials, letters to the editor, advertisements, consular and diplomatic pronouncements, local reportage, and reprinted international news, Hansard’s effort, while impressive, was by no means unusual in the treaty ports of nineteenth-century Asia. Similar newspapers had been published 2 Interestingly, the term “Hansard” has since entered the English language to refer to any published record of parliamentary debates. 3 It has been suggested by Chikamori Haruyoshi, among others, that Hansard was editor and publisher of the newspaper Southern Cross (and that he brought the printing press with him from New Zealand to Japan), but recent writings on the subject have called this into question. See NSSZ, vol. 1, pp. 109–110; and Yuga Suzuki, “Hansard Chronological Table,” http://pweb.cc.sophia.ac.jp/s-yuga/AWHansard.html. 4 This quotation comes not from the first issue of the Nagasaki Shipping List and Advertiser (the first two issues have been lost), but rather the first issue of Hansard’s Japan Herald (November 23, 1861).



albert w. hansard and the japan herald69

by American and European expatriates in many parts of the world since the early nineteenth century, and it was likely with these precedents in mind that Hansard wrote of “satisfying the craving which seems to be rapidly increasing at home, and indeed in all parts of the world … for more knowledge about Japan.” As newspapers such as the North China Herald were the primary source of Chinese news for American and European newspapers, Hansard hoped that his new venture might serve a similar function for news of Japan. As he quickly learned, however, Nagasaki was not the optimal location for such a venture. As Hansard notes in the September 25th issue of the Shipping List and Advertiser, Nagasaki offered a limited subscription base, an insufficient workforce, and poor access to current news. In fact, the merchants of treaty port China found the Shipping List unnecessary because their own local media printed news of Kanagawa before it had even reached Nagasaki! Consider the irony, Hansard writes, in the fact that “our [own] Japanese news has more than once been culled from the columns of our China contemporaries.” Therefore he announced that the operation would be relocated to Yokohama, the hub around which international commerce revolved, and a natural home for Japan’s journal of record. In Yokohama, “we hope to be able to carry out far more advantageously the intention expressed in our first number, to make it a ‘A JOURNAL FOR JAPAN.’”5 The Japan Herald The first issue of the Japan Herald appeared on Saturday, November 23, 1861. The lead editorial explained that “it was absolutely necessary that the enterprise should be removed to this place—the head-quarters of official and public information, and the more important commercial entrepot.” Hansard proclaimed that his newspaper would be explicitly free of the sort of bias that had afflicted papers “elsewhere”: The PRINCIPLES upon which this journal will be conducted may be shortly stated as those of the most THOROUGH INDEPENDENCE, by this we simply mean that we know of no pressure which can be brought to bear upon us which would induce us to permit the paper to be made a vehicle of personal abuse, or even the organ of a party to the unfair exclusion of the views of others. Its columns will be carefully guarded from that style of vulgar abuse of authorities and public and private individuals which has elsewhere been 5 The Nagasaki Shipping List and Advertiser, September 25, 1861.

70

chapter three so detrimental to the influence and the credit of the Press—and which cannot, be without danger to the peace and happiness of the community in which it is indulged…. The paper will aim at becoming the medium for conveying, at the earliest possible moment, such information as we may be able to obtain on all matters of public importance, and of their fair and open dis­ cussion in a temperate and consistent tone… A part of the mission of “THE JAPAN HERALD” is thus to afford a public medium of intelligence—it will in great measure depend upon the community itself, as to how far that mission may be successful.  If the paper be honestly, respectably, and properly conducted … [this] will establish it as an important addition to the Eastern Press—with an influence for much good and of great interest, not only in this Community itself,—but at home, in China, in India, and in all parts of the world.6

This first editorial references two issues that resurfaced in the months to come. First, the assertion that he would refrain from the “vulgar abuse of authorities and public and private individuals” that threaten the “peace and happiness” of the foreign community of Yokohama; and second, that the Japan Herald would be a source of “influence” and “interest” not just for the local community, but for the world at large. It was an ambitious agenda. Like its antecedent in Nagasaki, the Japan Herald was four pages in length. Its dense, largely image-free columns were packed with advertisements, “notices of firms,” “intimations,” advertisements of land for rent/ sale, shipping news, official diplomatic notifications, weather reports, births, deaths, editorials, letters to the editor, foreign and local news, and market reports.7 At twenty-five dollars, annual subscription rates were five dollars higher than the Nagasaki Shipping List and Advertiser, but despite the cost, Hansard’s newspaper continued (with occasional interruptions) until 1866. A daily edition, the Daily Japan Herald, began publication on October 26, 1863, and may have continued through to 1867 (the exact date is unknown). This edition of the Japan Herald was the first sustained daily publication in Japanese history, but its lack of substantive content (its two

6 The Japan Herald, November 23, 1861. Italics in the original. 7 Among the regular advertisements were those for the editor himself, whose business ventures were not limited to the publishing industry: “A.W. Hansard, Auctioneer & General Agent. More particularly for the Public Sale of Import Cargoes, Damaged Goods, and of Landed interests, Houses, &c., Main Street No. LXXVIII. Mr. Hansard is now prepared to execute Commissions in the above business. He has ample storage accommodations for goods intended for sale. He will also be happy to undertake any business connected with the private sale or leasing of properties. Yokohama, 30th Nov., 1861.”



albert w. hansard and the japan herald71

pages consisted almost entirely of advertisements and market statistics) precludes its further consideration here.8 Though the Herald continued to 1866, there were a few wrinkles in the early years. Hansard added a partner in February of 1862—a British resident named O.R. Keele, whose caricatured image we will see in Chapter Four—but their partnership dissolved in 1863. Furthermore, the paper temporarily ceased publication in the spring and summer of that year (precise dates are unavailable, as most issues from January to September of 1863 have been lost). The reason for this temporary suspension is not known. Hansard noted upon completion of the second year of the newspaper’s publication in November 1863 that there has been a difference of opinion as to whether [the Herald] has been “properly” conducted, we admit … At the end of March last circumstances occurred in respect to the proprietorship and editorship which compelled a temporary cessation of our labours.

These “circumstances” must remain a mystery, but there is much else to explore in the Herald’s pages. “The Plague of 1864” and Local Concerns Hansard quickly established his newspaper as a voice for the concerns of Yokohama’s foreign community. One early nuisance was the failure of the foreign consuls to convene a meeting of all the land renters of Yokohama. According to land regulations agreed upon by the treaty powers, the foreign consuls were directed to assemble the “Renters of the Land within the Foreign Quarter” to discuss plans for the sanitation and lighting of the settlement. However, in the two-plus years the settlement had been in operation, no such meeting was ever convened. Hansard noted in the December 21, 1861, Herald that the issue “appears to have escaped the observation or recollection of all interested.” In this respect Yokohama compared quite unfavorably to Hansard’s previous home of Nagasaki: We all know too well that many great and shameful nuisances do exist in the Settlement:—cattle, pigs, &c. are slaughtered every day close to the main street; the offal is thrown into the canal running at the rear, or onto the

8 According to some sources, a separate edition for overseas audiences entitled The Japan Herald Market Report and Price Current was published from 1864, but no copies are extant.

72

chapter three beach in front of the offices and residences… Were such a committee as the community is by this clause empowered to create, actually in being, we venture to assert that these and other great nuisances would not continue to exist for one week. The clause was acted upon at Nagasaki, the meeting called, the committee elected, and within two months a very marked improvement had taken place:—the streets were well lighted…the watchmen and police force had been instituted… the accumulation of filth stayed and removed.9

A committee was eventually formed to address sanitary concerns in the settlement in March 1862, but the Herald maintained its criticism because the committee did not make the reports of its activities public. “This reticence is contrary to all established usage in this part of the world,” Hansard noted. Not only did the land renters in far-off Nagasaki provide full reports to the Japan Herald, but in addition Shanghai land renters presented the “fullest details” down to the “minutest matter” to their own local media, as did similar committees in the foreign communities in Singapore and elsewhere.10 Concern for the sanitation of the settlement continued throughout the Japan Herald’s run. While the committee charged with cleanup earned cen­ sure for failing to properly report its activities, the Japanese government’s inability to keep the streets clean warranted similar condemnation: bound to keep [the streets] in thorough order, [the government] reduced them by their mad system of procedure, to a continued series of hills of debris, vallies [sic] of mud, and dykes of filth.11

Ultimately, however, the responsibility rested with the foreign consuls: [T]he question of the right to have their streets cleaned for them by the Japanese, in consideration for the high rentals paid, though not given up, is allowed by the inhabitants to sleep, while they, as for the last three days, wade ankle deep in mud, and go home and dip their hands in their pockets to pay their own “Scavenger Corps,” for doing the work they have already, in another shape, paid for:—but for the removal of this last great nuisance they must call upon the Consuls … the responsibility is theirs.12

Whether due to consular indifference or incompetence, there was “an utter absence of any order or regularity in the management of affairs” that

  9 The Japan Herald, December 21, 1861. 10 The Japan Herald, May 31, 1862.   11 The Japan Herald, November 28, 1863. 12 The Japan Herald, June 4, 1864.



albert w. hansard and the japan herald73

made Yokohama “perhaps the worst regulated Settlement in Foreign parts.”13 In July of 1864, Hansard’s editorials reached a fever pitch over this issue. “Some intending future historian of Japan,” he noted in the issue of July 9, “shall prepare his heading for a chapter on ‘The Plague of 1864’ unless the sanitation of the settlement is improved”: [We] observe upon the open cess-pools with which the settlement has been veined, despite the very earnest remonstrances of the entire community. In one of these carefully constructed hot beds for forcing malaria-engendering accumulations, in front of our own door, for the past five days have been abiding a mass of disagreeables enough to commence the slaughter of a city.14

The fact that none of the three most reliable and informative contemporary accounts of the period (those of Francis Hall, John Reddie Black, and Pierre Mounicou15) mentions the summer of 1864 as having been especially offensive suggests that Hansard’s prose tended toward the hyperbolic. The Japan Herald did not reserve its invective for matters of municipal sanitation. The Japanese government, native merchants, and members of the foreign settlement also drew Hansard’s ire at various occasions. His primary target, however, was the foreign consular corps, portrayed in the pages of the Japan Herald as a swaggering bunch who dispensed unequal justice and enjoyed unfair commercial advantages: The Ministers, their guards, the Consuls, their clerks may trot, canter, gallop through the streets, who hears of complaints? But we poor merchants and traders, billbrokers and auctioneers must look to it that our steeds do not break into an amble or ‘tis “beware, $200 fine!” A Minister’s guard rushes across a street to assault an inoffensive passing Japanese and knock him into a ditch, is reported and nothing more is heard of it; … young Smith, Jones, and Robinson (townsmen) dine together, have a frolic and are “put through” the public court constituted for such purpose, and then are held up as woeful examples of the “rowdey” [sic] elements composing the community, and probably, you will find them all duly paged in the index of Bishop Smith’s new work “Three more days in Japan.”16

13 The Japan Herald, June 11 and November 19, 1864. 14 The Japan Herald, July 9, 1864. 15 Black notes that “slight alarm” was felt by foreigners in the spring of 1864; “the immediate effect, however, was to direct public attention more than ever to the sanitary state of the settlement.” Young Japan, vol. 1, p. 288. 16 The Japan Herald, February 8, 1862.

74

chapter three

At every turn, Hansard stated, consular officials either acted in their own self-interest, or caved in to the requests of Japanese. Either way, the needs of the foreign merchant community were being slighted: a feeling is abroad amongst the Community that we have our backs to the sea, and that, standing as we do on the brink, with any further concessions, with yielding another foot, we are driven over… we regret to say that Mr. Alcock [the British minister] was always ready to concede on to the most trivial representations of the Japanese.17

Furthermore, as the consular corps—the “very persons whose duty it is to see that the treaty is impartially, conscientiously, and fairly carried out”— enjoyed favorable currency exchange rates unavailable to the community at large, the wedge between the “gold caps” and the residents of the settlement was driven even further. “Is the treaty carried out fairly, impartially, and conscientiously?” Hansard asked rhetorically.18 In the eyes of the Japan Herald, the answer was obvious. “Clouds and Vapors” Hansard’s concern with local matters did not mean that broader issues escaped the Japan Herald’s attention during the early years, among them the question of opening Edo to foreign trade. According to the stipulations of the treaties signed between the bakufu and the foreign powers in 1858, Edo, Osaka, Kanagawa (Yokohama), Nagasaki, Niigata, and Hyōgo (Kobe) were scheduled to open between July 4, 1859, and January 1, 1863. In January 1862, a bakufu mission was sent abroad in order to negotiate a delay in the opening of Edo, Osaka, Hyōgo, and Niigata. The Herald addressed the prospect of these negotiations, noting optimistically that “we have heard it rumored, with every appearance of good foundation,

17 The Japan Herald, October 18, 1862. 18 The Japan Herald, October 11, 1862. Ernest Mason Satow, then Japanese interpreter to the British Consulate, weighed in on the matter in his 1921 memoirs, A Diplomat in Japan: “the merchant had to buy his ichibus in the open market, while the official obtained the equivalent of his salary, and often much more, in native coin nearly weight for weight of his ‘Mexicans’ …. Detractors said that the advantages thus given to Ministers, Consuls, sailors and soldiers was a bribe to induce their compliance with violation of treaty stipulations to the prejudice of their non-official countrymen; but this is unfair. It was the result of false theories as to the nature and function of money, and personal interest worked against a conversion to views more in accordance with the principles of political economy.” See A Diplomat in Japan (London: Seeley, Service and Co., 1921), pp. 22–23.



albert w. hansard and the japan herald75

that final arrangements have been made for the very early opening” of the ports.19 In a long editorial, Hansard argued that a delay in opening the ports was regrettable, but certainly preferable to revolution or war with the powers. Japan, he wrote, was in a precarious state, especially since it was not entirely clear who was ultimately responsible for matters of national policy. Thus diplomats were taking a risk by negotiating the opening of Edo— “there is probably no city or port in Japan which might not be considered more valuable to Western commerce”—with the wrong interests in mind: With regard to the opening of Yedo question, there is in truth a principle at stake. Whether any encouragement may be given to the hostile and reactionary party by a seeming deference to their avowed wishes or yielding to their menaces of massacre and revolution, suggests a grave question which has to be weighed in the balance …. Any action in the matter, based upon wrong conclusions as to the relative force and animus of those who hold rule in Japan—of the Mikado [i.e., the emperor] and his Court (larger we are told then has been hitherto assumed)—of the Tycoon and his surroundings—and lastly, the semi-independent Princes and Daimios, who constitute the great council of the nation, and can, to all appearances exercise a controlling power over the whole executive, would, necessarily be fraught with mischief.

Hansard’s editorial illustrates the grave uncertainty that marked foreign understanding of Japanese governance. As the shogunate slowly lost its grip over the geographic areas beyond its direct control, movement on complex issues such as international trade was nearly paralyzed. And as government authority at the national level dissolved, it became impossible for the foreign community to determine who was making the decisions so crucial to their own livelihood: “the best information attainable of the actual state of the country,” Hansard continued, falls far short of what is required for safe steering in such difficult navigation. There are too many clouds and vapors, volcanic and atmospheric interposing between us and the truth to allow us to take observations that can be fully relied upon.20

Of course, these “clouds and vapors” were only to grow denser in the years to come—and the port of Edo did not open until 1869, by which time both Hansard and the Japan Herald had long passed from the scene.

19 The Japan Herald, January 4, 1862. 20 Ibid.

76

chapter three Letters to the Editor: “Opening Wedge”

Edwin and Michael Emery, in their study of the American mass media, noted that the participatory nature of the periodical press was evident from the earliest days: “every subscriber who could wield a pen sooner or later appeared in the columns,” writing “their pet complaints for the pages of the local mercury.”21 The periodical press in treaty-port Asia carried this tradition forward with great aplomb. One notable contributor to the Japan Herald, writing under the nom de plume “Opening Wedge,” published several letters on the “Edo question” discussed above. Evidence weighs toward the fact that “Opening Wedge” was Eugene Van Reed.22 The issue of opening Edo was one close to Van Reed’s heart and wallet—so much so, in fact, that in 1860 he made an illegal trip to that city, which was officially off limits, having duplicitously obtained a passport by telling Yokohama officials he had business with Townsend Harris, the American minister.23 Censured, but not punished, for his trip, Van Reed made a second unauthorized journey the following year. As soon as the city opened to foreign residence in 1869, he founded an exchange house employing over one hundred Japanese brokers who dealt in oils, silks, teas, and other commodities.24 Van Reed’s ambitious business plans were still a distant prospect when the letters of “Opening Wedge” letters were being published in 1862. Nonetheless, we may witness from these early writings in the Japan Herald the author’s contention that Edo should and must be opened to the foreigner. In a remarkable letter published in the January 11, 1862, edition, “Opening Wedge”/Van Reed outlines an argument in favor of following the original stipulations of the trade treaties as closely as possible. In Van Reed’s view, a gradual opening of Japan would necessarily include Edo, prompting his alarm upon hearing the “loud whispers” that it was to be postponed. Conversely, rushing to open the entire country to foreign residence was not the solution either: The influx of the Foreigner with his ways of freedom and air of manliness, together with vast wealth, and an insatiable craving for trade, would have its

21 Edwin Emery and Michael Emery, The Press and America: An Interpretive History of the Mass Media (Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1984), p. 73. 22 Van Reed is said to have authored a tract entitled “Opening Wedge,”and his sister wrote a memorial booklet entitled “Eugene Miller Van Reed: An Opening Wedge of Japan.” 23 Van Sant, Pacific Pioneers, p. 100. 24 Ibid., p. 101.



albert w. hansard and the japan herald77 effect upon a people for centuries secluded, such as these, and to guard against animosities and troubles which might simultaneously arise, were the entire Empire opened to the Foreigner, it was agreed that the country should be opened gradually and by degrees.25

“This,” the author states, “were [sic] a step to be deplored.” In all our intercourse with these people after all the sacrifices made to establish our right to remain here—after all the dangers and vicisitudes [sic] of life in so peculiar a country—to relinquish our right to visit Yedo—a city the second in wealth and power of the Empire, would be a step highly injudicious.26

“Opening Wedge” contributed several more letters to the Japan Herald, but all were variations on the same theme: that the foreigner had every right to do business in Edo, due the sacrifices and dangers he had endured in “peculiar” Japan. Is it any wonder that Van Reed would found the Yokohama Shinpō Moshiogusa to further his own commercial interests a few years later? Early Competitors I: The Japan Express The Japan Herald was not the only English-language media outlet in Yokohama for long. One after another, competitors arose to challenge Hansard’s monopoly on English-language news, but the Herald took on all comers with a vituperative spirit that Harold Herd characterized of nineteenth-century British newspapers as “only too typical of the journalistic manners of the age.”27 The first challenger was The Japan Express, a handwritten sheet printed off woodblocks that debuted on May 24, 1862. Its editor was Raphael Schoyer, an American auctioneer who came to Japan in 1859 at age sixty to pursue commercial ventures in Yokohama. As there are only two copies of the paper in existence (the regular issue of July 5, 1862, and an extra dated “Monday June 15”), it is unclear how long the Express was published, when it appeared (possibly weekly, on Saturdays), or what—if any—readership it enjoyed. What is certain is that the paper ended with Schoyer’s death from a heart attack at a meeting of

25 The Japan Herald, January 11, 1862. 26 Ibid. 27 Harold Herd, The March of Journalism: The Story of the British Press from 1622 to the Present Day (London: George Allen and Unwin, Ltd., 1952), p. 137.

78

chapter three

the Yokohama Municipal Council, of which he was the first chairman, in 1865. While there are scant few references to the Japan Express in any contemporary accounts, at least one Yokohama resident remembered the paper decades later—even if he had crucial details incorrect. G.W. Rogers, in a paper read before the Yokohama Literary Society some forty years after the events in question, noted that the first newspaper published in Yokohama was the Herald, by Mr. Schoyer …. It was brought out by writing the copy on thin Japanese paper and this was transferred to wooden blocks by Japanese engravers and printed off on to Japanese paper for delivery.

Rogers had the title of the newspaper wrong, of course, and while he was correct in stating that the Herald was the first (English-language) paper in Yokohama, he was clearly describing the woodblock-printed Express rather than the Herald. For at least one resident of bakumatsu Yokohama, it seems, Schoyer’s effort was the more memorable of the two, even if the details were unclear.28 The extant issues of the Express hint at severe discord between the two newspapers and foreshadow conflicts the Herald would have in the near future with its Yokohama competitors. In the June 28, 1862, edition of the Japan Herald, Hansard wrote, looking over some old files of a China contemporary we alighted the other day upon the following rich morceau: “we copy a paragraph from the San Francisco Bulletin, written by the Japan correspondent of that journal.”

The copied paragraph concerned an extremely unfavorable report of Yokohama given by George Smith, the bishop of Victoria. In his book Ten Weeks in Japan, Smith had dismissively noted that Yokohama “is a deplorable scene of demoralization and profligate life,” and that there was a sense of negligence and discomfort throughout the whole place; and everything was in a state of transition towards something which it was hoped would be improvement.29

28 G.W. Rogers, “Early Recollections of Yokohama, 1859–1864,” in The Japan Weekly Mail, December 5, 1903. 29 George Smith, D.D., bishop of Victoria (Hong Kong), Ten Weeks in Japan (London: Longman, Green, Longman, and Roberts, 1861), p. 250.



albert w. hansard and the japan herald79

The “Japan correspondent” of the San Francisco Bulletin wrote that Smith preached the other Sunday … and a capital sermon he preached—hitting off the vices of Yokohama most happily…. As you may imagine, his sermon was not popular, as no one likes to have the truth brought home to him, particularly in a country where the early precepts taught us by our mothers, are entirely unpractised if not forgotten …. Living here, so far from “home,” it is not considered necessary to practice those virtues which prevail, at least, in outward appearance, in our native lands.30

Hansard—who had already rebutted the bishop’s criticisms in a preview of Ten Weeks in Japan that appeared in the Nagasaki Shipping List and Advertiser—took great umbrage at the approving words of the “Japan Correspondent”: For what purpose, and with what view the Foreign Community of Yokohama has been from time to time so grossly misrepresented as it has been—it may be that the future will hereafter develop, and the motives of those who have, either by their own pen or by availing themselves of the read credulity and cacethes scribendi of visiting Bishops and other travelers, managed to publish to the world their groundless calumnies of our residents will doubtless be discovered. –It is not necessary for us to vindicate the community of Yokohama against the unfounded attacks of those who have thus, for their own ulterior objects, so libeled us.31

“We venture to say,” Hansard concluded, “that a more gratuitous, cowardly libel was never written about any community; nor a more gross and deliberate falsehood penned by any anonymous scribbler.” In turn, all five articles of the July 5, 1862, edition of Schoyer’s Japan Express are at least partially directed toward the Herald. Though time has rendered some of its comments (and handwriting) impenetrable, the hostility between the two is evident. It appears that we are not to publish a number of the Express without referring to this individual we had hoped … would pursue a course which would promise better things in the future,

Schoyer wrote in an article titled “The Editor of the Herald.” An opportunity presented itself to spit his venom at us … the temptation was too strong to resist and he republishes a portion of a communication to the San Francisco Evening Bulletin, which he says he found in an old China paper.32 30 The Japan Herald, June 28, 1862. 31 Ibid. 32 The Japan Express, July 5, 1862.

80

chapter three

Schoyer defends Smith’s criticism in his lengthy response, which we would do well to digest in extenso in order to appreciate its full impact: [Hansard] professes to be horrified that the community should be slandered in so horrible a manner. And who is this individual who is so sensitive for the morals of his friends? It is an editor, who from almost the first to the last issue, has used, his columns to slander high officials and private gentlemen. When he attacks us we can defend ourselves in our own columns when he attacks private persons they have no redress. The paragraph referred to us being slanderous was written as a correspondent of a newspaper.  The truth of the strictures no one (but for private malice) can [illegible word33] the sermon by the able Bishop it has nothing personal, it points to no one. [illegible word] on the state of morals in the East to which Yokohama was not an exception. It was written as a caution not to send the young men of the States, to a country where no restraint need be observed, where the natives were generally immoral and that so openly too that but few young men could escape the contamination, where young and pretty women are to be bought for a trifling sum like the merchandize in their shops, where the morals of money of the residents causes no restraint to such indulgence.  Does the Editor of the Herald approve of the state of morals existing at the time the above criticism was written? Or does he now approve of the morals of many that could be pointed out even in his own circle of friends.  Does the Editor believe the morals of the East as compared with those taught us by our mothers? If his strictures on us are based on his approval of this sort of morals, then, we caution the young men he seems to have fascinated to fly from and avoid a man who made such an avowal, as from a leper. We in the early days of this settlement wrote a criticism on Bishop Smith’s sermon in the course of which we made some remarks on the state of morals prevailing in the East, but thank God it has not our approval like the Bishop’s sermon if pointed to no one in particular, but referred to a state of things to be deprecated by all right thinking men, and we do not regret having done so. As an impartial Public Journalist it may become our duty to point out the evils arising from continuing to send to the East the Flower of our Youth, As to the Editor of the Herald we leave him to the enjoyment of the free and easy morals he has taken up his pen to defend.  If the editor desires particular specimens of the morality he described he has not far to look from many of his associates.  We are not anxious to contribute to personal attacks, nor do we set ourselves up as a censor of the public morals, but when we are attacked for expressing our sincere sentiments, it becomes a matter of necessity to reply.

33 The text of the Japan Express, as mentioned above, was printed off woodblocks from a hand-written text (one assumes the handwriting is Schoyer’s); as the Japanese artisan who did the woodcutting quite likely could not read English, words often appear that are either illegible or barely legible.



albert w. hansard and the japan herald81  We now leave the Editor to the Glory and profit he has gained by the avowal that he approves of the free and easy morals of the place.34

This lengthy editorial, which makes up the majority of the content of the issue, points us toward the possible identity of “Japan Correspondent”— Schoyer himself, who writes as a man personally stung by another’s slanderous remarks, rather than as an impartial observer. Indeed, he seems to have written the entire issue with the sole purpose of defending himself from Hansard’s attacks. The Japan Herald declined to respond to these editorials, and the matter—at least in the public sphere—rested there. Early Competitors II: The Japan Commercial News The Japan Express was not Hansard’s only competitor in Yokohama’s mediasphere, as the Japan Commercial News made its debut on May 13, 1863. Unlike Schoyer’s erratically published Japan Express, the Commercial News appeared regularly on Wednesday mornings until its one hundred and seventh and final issue on May 13, 1865. The publisher was a Macaoborn Portuguese named Francisco Da Roza, a talented polyglot whose abrasive personality is said to have caused some discord in the foreign settlement.35 Unfortunately, it is difficult to evaluate Da Roza’s newspaper on its own merits, since only three of the one hundred and seven issues of The Japan Commercial News have survived to the present day, and only one of these is complete. Da Roza’s paper appears to have had a wide domestic readership, based on the many translated versions of the Commercial News that were published. After the assassination of Ii Naosuke in 1860, anti-foreign sentiment forced the end of officially translated versions of foreign newspapers. In response, a group bakufu translators led by Yanagawa Shunsan privately formed the “Translation Society” (Kaiyakusha) and over the course of two years produced more than a hundred translated issues of Da Roza’s newspaper under such titles as Nihon Bōeki Shinbun and Nihon Kōeki Shinbun. A question that immediately arises is why the Kaiyakusha chose the Japan Commercial News as their primary source, rather than the more established Japan Herald. Unfortunately, the answer remains a mystery. Perhaps Yanagawa—himself a skilled linguist—established a connection with the 34 The Japan Express, July 5, 1862. 35 Ebihara Hachirō 蛯原八郎, Nihon ōji shinbun zasshi shi 日本欧字新聞雑誌史 (Taiseidō 大誠党, 1934), pp. 24–26.

82

chapter three

Japanese-speaking Da Roza rather than with Hansard, a figure who showed minimal interest in reaching out to the native population in the editorial pages of the Herald (or in real life, for that matter). Since so many of the original texts have been lost, it is not possible to speak with any certainty about the precise composition of the Japan Commercial News. Therefore, we will turn our attention toward the remarkable role Da Roza’s paper played as a foil to the Japan Herald in the early– to mid-1860s. One ten-month stretch in particular (September 1863–August 1864) witnessed an unprecedented degree of rancor between these two competing media outlets, as nearly every issue of the Herald made critical references to the Japan Commercial News. Editorials routinely accused Da Roza of libel, as well as deliberately printing hoaxes and “sensation paragraphs.” On at least one occasion, Hansard even felt compelled to issue an entire extra edition of the newspaper (at what must have been a considerable expense) to contradict a story that had appeared in his rival’s pages. The first shot in the conflict was apparently fired by the Japan Commercial News in a now-lost issue from September 1863. As reported in the pages of the September 26 issue of the Japan Herald, We call the attention of our readers to an article about ourselves, in our editorial and private character, which appeared on Wednesday last in the Japan Commercial News. We take no further notice of it than this in our columns because we will not hazard that dreadful nuisance and scandal in a community,—the squabbles of two local papers. We take no notice of it, nor the manner in which it is italicised in any other way than to inform our readers and contemporaries that the Editor of that publication is Mr. P.B. Walsh, now a clerk in the British consulate.36

Setting aside the illogicality of “taking no notice” of an article while simultaneously “call[ing it to] the attention of our readers,” there are issues worthy of note in this brief paragraph. Although Phillip Walsh was indeed a junior clerk in the British Consulate, it does not appear he was the real 36 The Japan Herald, September 26, 1863. Little is known of Walsh save the fact that he was a junior assistant in the British Consulate at Kanagawa in 1863. Francis Hall mentions Walsh once in his diary; in the entry for Friday, May 29, 1863, he noted that “Mr. Walsh of the English Consulate had this P.M. some difficulty on the Tokaido with the retainers of some prince (Mito? So said) at a tea house where they accidentally met. Mr. W[alsh] says that they were intoxicated and questioned him roughly, and then made menacing gestures with their swords, whereupon he drew his pistol, which deterred them till he had time to escape into the street, when they pursued him to the boat landing where the yakunins on duty interfered and protected him from violence.” See Japan Through American Eyes, p. 479. Unfortunately, the issues of both the Japan Herald and the Japan Commercial News from this period are missing, so there is no other information about this incident available.



albert w. hansard and the japan herald83

focus on Hansard’s ire. That same issue of the Japan Herald also gives the details of a recent legal dispute between the two publishers. Apparently Hansard had contracted an agent in Hong Kong to procure a compositor for his newspaper, and the agent agreed to send his own (unnamed) younger brother. Upon arrival in Yokohama, the brother refused to work for the Herald. Instead he took up employment with Da Roza’s Japan Commercial News, where another of agent’s brothers, A.J. da Silva e Souza, also worked. Hansard brought the case before the British Consular Court and won the decision: the younger brother was ordered to work for Hansard for fifty dollars a month, as originally promised. No doubt this affair engendered feelings of hostility between the two parties, but there was far more to come in the months ahead. Hansard’s attacks on the Japan Commercial News typically consisted of accusations of sensationalism and rumor mongering. Rather than simply refute or correct the false information, however, he occasionally took the major step of issuing an “extra” edition of the Herald for the sole purpose of correcting the misreportage of his competitor. The October 10, 1863, edition of the Japan Herald notes that we regretted that we felt it incumbent upon us to issue that following Extra in contradiction of and to counteract the excitement produced by a rediculous [sic] Sensation hoax published by a paper now issuing here under the name of the “Japan Commercial News.”37

The text of the extra reads in part as follows: An announcement is now being distributed through the settlement in an “Extra to the Japan Commercial News,” which is headed MOST IMPORTANT NEWS; BOMBARDMENT AND CAPTURE OF OSACA BY THE DAIMIOS, and stating that “Authentic information has been received of the Bombardment and Capture of the Imperial City of OSACA (and, some say of KIOKO also), and that the Daimios are advancing with an army of 50,000 men for the capture of YOKOHAMA.” This is simply manufactured Sensation intelligence, and that only.38

In actuality, Hansard explains, a plot was discovered … amongst the retainers of Choshu to attack the castle at Osaca [sic] and seize upon the person of the Mikado [i.e., the emperor]; upon this discovery a conflict arose between the Mikado’s soldiers and those of Choshu which ended in the defeat of the latter.39 37 The Japan Herald, October 10, 1863. 38 Ibid. 39 Ibid.

84

chapter three

Here Hansard was referring to the attempted coup d’état of September 30, 1863 (Bunkyū Sannen Hachigatsu Jūhachinichi no Seihen). On that date low-ranking samurai of the Chōshū domain were driven from Kyōto by forces from the domains of Satsuma and Aizu.40 It should be pointed out that Hansard’s account—while more accurate than the Commercial News article that he so scorns—is itself the product of faulty intelligence. The imperial court was in Kyōto, of course, not Osaka, and Chōshū was defeated not by “imperial troops” (which did not exist) but by forces of two domains who wished to gain influence in the imperial court. The Herald’s own shaky grasp of the facts did not, however, deter that newspaper from an extended harangue against the Japan Commercial News that is at once both condescending as well as threatening. “These Sensation untruths are a perfect nuisance,” it reads in part; we warn [the Japan Commercial News] to beware in the future how they play such tricks … we are informed the Governor [of Kanagawa] is a little amused and not a little annoyed at these stories, and greatly puzzled as to the object of the foreigners who concoct and publish them.41

For Hansard, the publication of rumors and exaggerations in the Japan Commercial News was regrettable not because of its possible impact on the local foreign community—who would be the ones most put out by rumors of an imminent rōnin attack—but because of the negative impression it might provoke among native Japanese. Hansard, the leading voice of the bakumatsu English-language press, repeatedly lamented that his competitor was damaging the image of the foreign community. In the October 17, 1863, issue of the Japan Herald, for example, we read the following: We really fear there is a disagreeable task before us. To contradict and correct erroneous information upon Japanese matters, now that it appears in systematic course of printing and publishing, is an Augean labor of which a journalist with more time upon his hands than we have, might well essay to avoid; but we have, reliable information that the Japanese look upon this in a light so derogatory to Foreigners generally, that we shall endeavor to do our best to counteract its ill effects. This we shall do by the most curt and simple means possible.  The reported bombardment and capture of Osaca we have already disposed of as untrue and unfounded.

40 For further details of this incident, see Thomas Huber, The Revolutionary Origins of Modern Japan (Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1981), pp. 126ff. 41 Ibid.



albert w. hansard and the japan herald85  We have already said that the statement published in the same paper, that “one of the Tycoon’s ships had been fired upon by one of Mowori’s forts, &c.” is untrue—that the vessel in question passed up to Yedo a few days since.  We now read in the same paper as follows.—  Etsizen no Kami and some other no’lbes [sic] were killed, as well as many men onb .oth [sic] sides” (at Miako). This is not true.42

“Etsizen no Kami” refers to Matsudaira Yoshinaga 松平慶永 (1828–1890, the daimyo of Fukui. Matsudaira was the leader of the “union of court and camp” (kōbu gattai) movement that attempted to reconcile bakufu and imperial interests in the waning years of the Tokugawa shogunate. Although Matsudaira was not killed, his residence was in fact damaged shortly before the inaccurate article was published in the Japan Commer­ cial News.43 Where the Herald received the “reliable information” that Japanese looked down Da Roza’s newspaper on remains unclear—was he making it up? We know from the Kaiyakusha’s laborious translation efforts that the reverse was true, if anything. In any event, Hansard’s concern about protecting the image and reputation of the community rings genuine, if extreme. However tempting it may be to characterize bakumatsu newspapers as being “for” or “against” the Tokugawa shogunate, it is worth noting that one newspaper was more concerned what the bakufu thought of it, rather than the other way around. The Japan Commercial News seems to have reacted angrily to the Herald’s continual charges of falsehood and rumor mongering. In response, Hansard intimated that it was the foreign community who was seeking redress: we have received two communications expressing surprise that we have taken no notice of a slanderous attack upon an Auctioneer [i.e., Hansard] in this place which appeared in a late number of the “Japan Commercial News.”44

While avowing to treat such calumny with “silent contempt,” the December 5, 1863, issue of the Japan Herald made a series of convoluted threats worth quoting at length, as they reveal not simply the animosity of one particular publisher, but also the complexity of operating a multinational business according to an extraterritorial legal system:

42 The Japan Herald, October 17, 1863. 43 See Beasley, The Meiji Restoration, pp. 216ff. 44 The Japan Herald, December 5, 1863.

86

chapter three In the case alluded to, the “Auctioneer” libeled elects to take a more satisfactory, though perhaps more tedious means for putting a stop to such libels, by legal proceedings which have been already instituted. The “British” editor of the “Japan Commercial News” choosing to remain in the back-ground, and like the mischievous monkey in the fable, to turn the chesnuts [sic] of abuse and libel with the paws of the Portuguese proprietors, British law may not be made to apply to any thing which appears in that paper. But in this instance he and they have libeled one who will not spare time or trouble or expenses to make them know that, apart from public opprobrium, there is further protection to be availed of by a British or other foreign subject, from the attacks of those who would disgrace their nationality as Portuguese by allowing the means at their command to be availed of by any attempt to stab the reputation of any man in the community.45

Hansard had earlier accused Phillip Walsh, a clerk in the British Consulate, as serving as the unnamed editor of the Commercial News. Because of Walsh’s “choosing to remain in the back-ground,” however, there is no other evidence of Walsh’s serving as editor, and his name does not appear in either of the two extant issues of the Commercial News. If Hansard was correct in his assumption that Walsh authored the editorial content of the Commercial News (and there is no compelling reason to assume otherwise), then the issue of extraterritorial law comes into play in exactly the fashion indicated in the quotation above: since the owner of the publication was of Portuguese nationality (though of Macanese birth), he was safe from British libel law. Hansard did eventually succeed in obtaining a libel conviction against the printers and publishers of the Japan Commercial News, according to the March 26, 1864, edition of the Daily Japan Herald. With the apparent aid of the Portuguese consul, those accused could no longer “avail themselves of the fact of their being Portuguese subjects, to allow themselves, and the type at their command to be used as the tools of a cowardly, anonymous slander.” The publishers of the Commercial News (in the Herald’s words, “a couple of Portuguese printers”) were additionally accused of being “perhaps ignorant even of the meaning of the words they publish”46—quite a charge, given that Da Roza’s linguistic skills surely outstripped those of the assuredly monolingual Hansard. In the weeks following the conviction, the Herald published a series of vituperative editorials about the Japan Commercial News likely as libelous as those printed by his competitor. A diatribe from the April 16 edition of 45 Ibid. 46 The Japan Herald, March 26, 1864.



albert w. hansard and the japan herald87

the Daily Herald goes well beyond its avowed intent of correcting its competitor’s errors: In a number of the Japan Commercial News published the other day we observed a supremely ridiculous statement, to the effect that the Mikado, having abdicated, was about to come to Yedo with his friend the Tycoon, to aid him in his government (!) &c &c &c.  One can scarcely credit that any person could be found in Japan so utterly ignorant of its Government as to imagine such nonsense, or so very verdant as to submit to be plied with such a very palpable shave, but that it should find a place, as editorial intelligence, in any public print, is certainly beyond all comprehension, and would be beyond credence, had we not before witnessed similar instances of “sensation” vending in Yokohama.47

To brand the false account in the Japan Commercial News—and it most assuredly was false, as the emperor neither resigned nor moved to Edo— “supremely ridiculous,” “nonsense,” and “utterly ignorant” surely achieved Hansard’s goal of “counteracting” the spurious article’s effects abroad.48 The residue of bitterness left behind is palpable nearly 150 years later, as Hansard states that the “Commercial News [is a newspaper] whose editor some wag seems to have turned [on] more than a usual amount of laughing gas this week.”49 Despite Hansard’s continuous condemnation, the Commercial News showed no sign of abatement. Every time the Commercial News went to press, the Herald quickly responded with its own sarcastic rebuttals. The announcement by the Commercial News of a new editor in April of 1864 was praised by the Herald—“we had always rather have a substential [sic] antagonist, however formidable, than a phantom-like form that eludes ever the grasp or thrust”—but any chance of a truce between the two Yokohama newspapers was over before it had a chance to begin.50 This new “substential antagonist” was Lewis Melville (details unknown), a figure who apparently held little regard for Hansard and had no hesitation about besmearing him. The first issue of the Commercial News under Melville’s editorship referred to “manners worthy only of a species lower in the scale of creation than that of our contemporary and the august circle in which he moves.”51 Hansard retorted in his own newspaper,

47 The Daily Japan Herald, April 16, 1864. 48 The emperor’s son and successor, of course, did relocate to Tokyo in 1869 (Meiji 2). 49 The Daily Japan Herald, April 16, 1864. 50 The Daily Japan Herald, April 23, 1864. 51 Ibid.

88

chapter three [That] such language should be written by one who only arrived three days since in Yokohama, and who can consequently know nothing of what “species in the scale of creation” either ourselves or “the circle in which we move” may belong, we think really pitiable for his own sake:-it is far below any thing we have ever seen before in any journal either in China or Japan, and can only result in the irretrievable ruin of the print in which it appears, and the character as, a journalist who writes it.52

As one who referred to his competitor as being under the influence of “laughing gas,” Hansard’s assertion that the new editor of the Commercial News had gone “far below any thing we have ever seen” seems a trifle overstated. In any event, Melville’s name disappeared from the newspaper in August—a short, if memorable, tenure. Although Hansard reserved most of his animus for the editors and publishers of the Commercial News, the Japanese were another target of accusations of falsehood and rumor mongering. For example, in the May 21, 1864, issue of the Japan Herald, we read the following article about an attack on the domain of “Hodongaya”: We regret to have to notice the following from the Daily issue of the “Japan Commercial News”.  “A report has reached us that Thosiu is on his way up from the South enroute to Yokohama with a considerable body of men, and that the government have ordered Hodongaya, a Daimio of a yearly revenue of 20,000 kokus of rice, to intercept his progress.  Precautions were accordingly taken by the Daimio, who had 2 cannon placed in position and an efficient guard posted near the Tokaido the night before last. We give the intelligence as we received it, and hope to have further particulars in the course of a day or two … .”53

This “intelligence” too proved false: the domain of Chōshū never sent troops to Yokohama, and—as the Herald noted—“there is not one daimyo in Japan bearing the name of Hodongaya,” although there was a Tokaido post station near Yokohama named Hodogaya. Hansard likened such “shameless sensation-mongering” to the clamoring of a false alarm: if the editor and proprietors of the ‘Japan Commercial News’ were to obtain access to the Fire-alarm bell in the middle of a dark night, and to rush up and down our settlement shouting at the top of their lungs … some means would soon be discovered to stop the nuisance.

52 Ibid. 53 The Japan Herald, May 21, 1864. Italics in the original.



albert w. hansard and the japan herald89

The Commercial News’ “prostitution of the press to the propagation of such false alarms” was in the eyes of the Herald an equal nuisance. While the blame for propagating such rumors rests with the Commercial News, Hansard noted, “the whole thing looks as though the Japanese terrorists were pulling the strings of these wretched fabrications.”54 In the same issue of the Herald, a humorous parody of the Commercial News’ article appeared: A report has just reached us that the Thochiu (the editor of the Comical News) is advancing on Yokohama with a numerous army of “printer’s devils.” The Government have ordered the village of Ho-don-ga-ya to prevent his passage, and have planted two great guns to bar his progress — the two guns are “truth” and “no humbug.” We shall probably hear more about this; but it is to be hoped that Thochiu will be annihilated by the two big guns. ***55

Leavening disputes with humor, unfortunately, was a practice rarely followed by the editor of the Japan Herald, as accusation of Japanese interference in the Commercial News continued: We see the Japan Commercial News is avowedly going in for the propagation of Japanese “REPORTS”—in other words … sensational rumours got up by the Japanese with the purpose of keeping foreigners in ignorance of the real state of affairs—and their mind in agitation,

Hansard noted in the August 13, 1864, edition. Although no evidence was ever brought forward, Hansard continued in the weeks following to intimate that Japanese were providing false “intelligence” to the Japan Commercial News. The Commercial News’ hiring of another new editor—one William Keir, about whom little is known—in August of 1864 was deemed auspicious by its competitor: “We believe that with Mr. [William] Keir’s advent to the editorial chair of the Commercial News ends the unseemly (tho’ perhaps under the circumstances unavoidable) conflicts between ourselves and it,” Hansard noted in the August 20, 1864, edition of the Japan Herald. “The refraining from publication of dangerous sensation paragraphs,” the editorial continued, “and ordinary fair play is all we have sought in the struggles, and we are quite sure that under its present Editorship these will be accorded spontaneously by our local contemporary.”56 Wishful thinking, perhaps, but public conflicts between the two Yokohama newspapers did 54 Ibid. 55 Ibid. 56 The Daily Japan Herald, August 20, 1864.

90

chapter three

decrease in the months following—but this was due to leadership changes at the Herald. J.R. Black and the End of the Japan Herald The attenuation of the “paper wars” was due to major changes at the Japan Herald. In the November 5, 1864, issue, the following announcement appeared in the advertisements column: NOTICE: A partnership arrangement with Mr. J.R. Black in my business of Auctioneer, being in contemplation, said business will, until further notice, be managed conjointly by that gentleman and myself. A.W. Hansard, Yokohama, Nov. 3rd, 1864.

The gentleman in question was a former British naval officer, John Reddie Black, born in Scotland to English parents on January 8, 1827. Educated in London at Christ’s Hospital, Black then entered the Royal Navy, as was the tradition in his family. He left the Navy—and England—behind in July of 1854, when he set off with his wife to the goldfields of Australia. According to his 1880 obituary, Black left Australia when business took “an unprosperous turn” and embarked on a tour of Australian colonies, India, and China.57 While his ship was docked in Yokohama in January 1864, he happened to meet Hansard, a fellow British expatriate. Hansard convinced Black of the commercial opportunities in Yokohama, and the latter elected to stay on and try his hand at business. According to Neil Pedlar, Hansard, recognizing the quick mind and good educational background of Black, and being a hard businessman himself, offered Black the job of editor-in-chief of his Japan Herald

some months later.58 Hansard returned to London in July or August of that year, possibly for health reasons, and died of scarlet fever in 1866. The Herald continued on with Black as the editor, but as the issues of 1866 and beyond have nearly all been lost, it is near impossible to characterize the Herald during Black’s editorship. In 1867, Hansard’s daughter married Alfred Thomas Watkins, who went to Japan later that year to take over Hansard’s remaining business interests—including the Japan Herald. 57 Japan Herald, June 11, 1880. As quoted in Ian Douglas MacArthur, “Mediating Modernity: Henry Black and Narrated Hybridity in Meiji Japan” (Ph.D. diss., University of Sydney, 2002), p. 38. 58 Neil Pedlar, The Imported Pioneers: Westerners who Helped Build Modern Japan (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1990), p. 136.



albert w. hansard and the japan herald91

Watkins elected to shut down the newspaper and move to the newly opened port of Hyōgo, where he established the weekly Hiogo and Osaka Herald, the first English-language newspaper outside of the Edo/Yokohama area.59 Black, meanwhile, used this opportunity to found his own venture, the Japan Gazette, a daily evening paper first published in October 1867. Unlike its daily counterpart the Daily Japan Herald, Black’s paper was not a simple commercial sheet, but rather a journal of news and opinion. Sadly, all but one issue (No. 227, dated September 25, 1868) of the Japan Gazette has been lost, a fact that precludes its further examination in this study. Nonetheless, it is clear from contemporary reports that the Gazette was a respected and successful journal of contemporary affairs. In 1870, Black relinquished his post at the Gazette and began work on an illustrated journal of news and arts entitled the Far East. In 1872, he established a Japanese-language daily, the Nisshin Shinjishi, in Tokyo. The Nisshin Shinjishi allowed Black to continue his efforts to criticize the Meiji government, but the publication and dissemination of such criticism in the Japanese language was more than the new government was willing to endure. The government duped Black into resigning his position as editor and taking a prestigious advisory post with the Council of State. Immediately after his resignation, a law was passed forbidding foreigners from owning or editing Japanese newspapers—and when Black was dismissed from his job after six months, he realized too late the ruse that was designed to end his journalism career in Japan. A further attempt to publish a Japanese-language newspaper, the Bankoku Shinbun, was immediately halted and its staff fined. Black then moved on to Shanghai, where he founded two short-lived journals. He returned to Japan in 1879, quite ill and hoping to recover in Yokohama. It was during this period that he wrote one of the major contemporary sources of Meiji-period treaty-port life, Young Japan: Yokohama and Yedo, 1858–79, in two volumes. Black died in 1880. Conclusions James Hoare, in his study of the foreign press of treaty-port Japan, noted that the proliferation of newspapers reflected not so much a craving for 59 Biographical details of Watkins’ life are taken from Suzuki Yūga 鈴木雄雅, “Aru Eijin hakkōsha o otte: A.W. Hansādo no kiseki ある英人発行者を追って—A.W.ハンサードの 奇跡,” in Komyunikēshon kenkyū コミュニケーション研究 23 (1993), pp. 88–89.

92

chapter three

the news as it did “international rivalries [and] personal ambition.”60 And yet in speaking of the “western enclaves” or “foreign communities” of nineteenth-century Asian treaty ports, there has often been the unstated assumption that there was a sense of harmony and unified purpose to the Europeans and Americans who made their homes so far from “civilization.” As we have seen in the preceding pages, however, life in the colonies was a fragmented affair, and to gloss over the conflicts that prevailed among members of the community is to misrepresent the actual lived experience of the men and women who lived there. For records of conflict and dissent, we have turned to the information media that recorded and spawned them—the “paper wars” between The Japan Herald and its competitors represent one example of this phenomenon. Our survey of the English-language press of bakumatsu Yokohama, while not exhaustive, has shown that the settlement was not unified in any meaningful way by the presence of the press. While the newspapers might have claimed to speak for a larger public, they were driven by politics at the personal level.

60 Hoare, Japan’s Treaty Ports and Foreign Settlements, p. 142.

CHAPTER FOUR

“A SOJOURNER AMONGST US”: CHARLES WIRGMAN AND THE JAPAN PUNCH Historical images, Peter Burke has said, “are unreliable sources, distorting mirrors” that reflect social context and artistic subjectivity. However, their very contextuality and subjectivity “compensate for this disadvantage by offering good evidence at another level, so that historians can turn a liability into an asset.”1 In this chapter we shall examine the “good evidence” authored by one observer of bakumatsu Yokohama: the British illustrator Charles Wirgman (1832–1891). From the 1860s to the 1880s, Wirgman edited, illustrated, and authored over two hundred issues of the satirical journal Japan Punch, which was woodblock printed and published from Wirgman’s home in Yokohama. Historians frequently point to the Punch’s cartoons as the prototype not only for the Japanese political cartoon but even of the Japanese comic book (manga) itself.2 Sadly, however, much of what gave the Punch its “punch”—its vituperative humor—has gradually ebbed away in the century and more since its publication, as many of the “inside jokes” that gave meaning to its cartoons have been lost. Even though Wirgman’s work has long been understood as satirical in nature, insufficient understanding of the social context has rendered many of his cartoons (and witty text) indecipherable. This task of this chapter is to present some of Wirgman’s cartoons of Yokohama as contemporary residents would have seen and understood them, and in so doing revive a picture of the settlement that has long remained hidden from view. While the Japan Punch ran for some two decades (1862–1887), our focus will be on the journal’s earliest years, when the frustrations and conflicts of early settlement life reflected the turmoil of Japanese domestic politics.

1 Peter Burke, Eyewitnessing: The Uses of Images as Historical Evidence (Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2001), p. 31. 2 In Japanese, see Ebihara Hachirō, Nihon ōji shinbun zasshi shi; in English, see Frederik L. Schodt, Manga! Manga! The World of Japanese Comics (Tokyo: Kodansha International, 1983), pp. 38–40.

94

chapter four “A Sojourner Amongst Us”

Wirgman was born in London in 1832, to a cosmopolitan family with connections on the continent. Though nothing certain is known of his childhood and education, we do know that he studied painting at a Paris art studio and from there made his way to Asia in 1857 as a correspondent and illustrator for the Illustrated London News.3 His initial reports covered the “Arrow War” between China and Britain of 1856–1860; following the conclusion of that conflict with the signing of the Anglo–Chinese Treaty, Wirgman accepted a similar assignment in Japan. Shortly after arriving in Edo in 1861, the British Consulate compound at Tōzenji was attacked by xenophobic rōnin, and Wirgman’s first report from Japan for the Illustrated London News was a dramatic eyewitness rendering of the event—an event that in actuality he did not witness, since he reportedly spent the duration hiding underneath the floorboards. This incident did not deter Wirgman from staying on in Japan, however, and after a short time, he established permanent residence in Yokohama’s foreign settlement. Wirgman’s prankish nature—which would later become all too evident in the pages of his journal—first revealed itself to the residents of the treaty port early in 1862, when he apparently developed a penchant for doodling on official circulars that were distributed in the settlement. As the April 26th edition of Albert W. Hansard’s Japan Herald noted, we regret much that the duty of remarking upon the repeated and increasing influence of the defacing of the circulars, is again forced upon us… but still more do we regret that we have to allude to the very dangerous extent to which the caricaturing of individuals has been carried of late by some one amongst us. A few weeks since a pretty general smile was excited by a pair of really clever fancy sketches of some of the members of the community … we have since heard of another series of caricatures … of so shamefully libelous a character that we will not further describe it.

Caricatures were “dangerous,” Hansard continued, chiefly because they portrayed Yokohama’s residents in a negative light: the community will see it their duty … to discourage and put down by every means in their power such silly and dangerous proceedings, for, we would ask, who can tell but that these things may reach those quarters where impressions derogatory of the respectability of the community have been dwelt upon—and that they may be used as proofs of those assertions [italics in the original]. 3 See Japan and the Illustrated London News: Complete Record of Events, 1853–1899, compiled and introduced by Terry Bennett (Folkestone, Kent, UK: Global Oriental, 2006).



“a sojourner amongst us”95

As we have seen, one of Hansard’s driving passions was nurturing and maintaining the reputation of Yokohama’s foreign community. Even worse than the scurrilous cartoons, the Herald added, was the fact that the offender was not a member of the Yokohama community: these things are not done by one of us—nor by one even admitted into the society of any of the respectable members of the mercantile branch of the community—but by a stranger—a sojourner amongst us.

Should the cartoons continue, the author threatened, “punishment of no gentle character will follow.”4 The Japan Punch, Version 1.0 How do we know that Wirgman was the figure responsible for the defacement of the circulars? To find the answer, we must turn to the Japan Punch itself. Though the Punch debuted in 1862, and a total of sixty-four pages were printed in that year, there remains some dispute about whether it was divided into one, two, or even three issues, and the lack of original copies makes the issue impossible to determine with confidence. However, we can say with some confidence that the issue(s), reputedly bankrolled by the Swiss consul Robert Lindau, appeared in the spring and/or summer of 1862. The title alluded to the weekly British journal of satire that debuted in 1841—“Punch” is short for “Punchinello” of Punch-and-Judy fame. The cover of Wirgman’s debut issue featured the original Punch’s mascot, a grinning hand puppet known as “Mr. Punch,” greeting a “samurai Punch” in Japanese dress, bearing the long and short sword of the warrior class (see Fig. 4–1). The author’s distinctive writing style, characterized by a sort of deadpan playfulness John Clark has described as representative of Wirgman’s “engaging, eccentric, [and] polyglot personalit[y],”5 is very much in evidence from the first passage: Notification. It is hereby notified that until further orders “The Japan Punch” will be the official organ for the publication in Japan of Jollyfications emanating from His Ethereal Majesty’s Customhouse and Boat houses in this country. By order Itziboo no kami.6

“Itziboo no kami,” or the “God of the Ichibu,” playfully suggests both Wirgman’s understanding of Japanese language, as well as the fact that life 4 The Japan Herald, April 26, 1862. 5 Britain and Japan 1859–1991: Themes and Personalities, ed. Sir Hugh Cortazzi and Gordon Daniels (Routledge: London and New York, 1991), p. 55. 6 The Japan Punch 1862–1887 (Yūshōdō 雄松堂, 1999), vol. 1, p. 3.

96

chapter four

in Yokohama revolved around commerce. In his “Introduction” on the first page of the inaugural edition, he parodied the high-minded prospectus of the treaty-port newspaper with the type of nonsensical rhyming and ornate language that would soon become a trademark: Punch [is] required, [for] relaxation from business. Risible muscles set in motion beneficial to health. Let us smile sublime sublunar sentiment. Snows of Fusiyama melting before genial rays of rising sun crabs and oysters rejoice. Nature clothed in spring of verdure. Fellow townsmen! Respected and respectable mercantile community! High government officials and their friends we introduce you to Punch.7

What, then, would set the “risible muscles” into motion? Wirgman’s primary targets were not the customs and habits of the Japanese, but rather fellow members of the foreign community. Within this group, those subjected to the greatest scrutiny and ridicule in the Punch’s early years were the members of Yokohama press, whose high-handed opinions and flowery (yet often misspelled and/or ungrammatical) language proved ample subject matter for the Punch’s pages.

Fig. 4–1. Front cover of the Japan Punch. 7 Ibid., vol. 1, p. 4.



“a sojourner amongst us”97

Fig. 4–2. First page of the Japan Punch (1862).

Returning to the Japan Herald’s threat of “punishment of no gentle character” for the person defacing the circulars: to such intimidation Wirgman appears to have responded with not just with another caricature, but with the publication of an entire journal of such cartoons. In fact, without such goading, the Japan Punch may never have come into existence. During its first year, the Japan Punch’s pages were filled with attacks upon the settlement’s major newspaper, The Japan Herald, as well as its publisher, Albert W. Hansard. Hansard, as discussed in the previous chapter, was a native Briton who came to Japan via New Zealand. His Nagasaki Shipping List and Advertiser was the first Western-style newspaper in Japan, and the Herald began shortly after Hansard’s move to Yokohama in autumn of 1861. It is not known whether this conflict with Hansard provided the actual

98

chapter four

impetus for founding the Punch, but at the very least it provided the bulk of the content of the first and/or second issue, which would have appeared in the summer of 1862. Both issues parody Hansard’s editorial style, as well as the “community” that the Herald called upon to chastise Wirgman: A high government official and his friend have been grossly libeled also the friend’s dog. One of the most respected members of the community has been caricatured in a manner which we will not further allude to. A stranger and sojourner has been committing horrible and unheard of actions on paper. Which so stagger’d the community that no less than 200 cocktails were imbibed in one day.8

The illustrations in these issues were also largely given over to unflattering portraits of Hansard and his partner, O.R. Keele—or, as Wirgman renamed them, “Spankard” and “Veale.” Two representative examples are given in Fig. 4–3 and Fig. 4–4. The text of the former reads “To the Custom house: Please grant permit to reexport the undermentioned animals as being unfit for this market.”9 Of the first twenty-eight pages of the Japan Punch that have illustrations, twenty-four contain caricatures of one or both of

Fig. 4–3 and Fig. 4–4. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1862). Hansard is the fig­ure caricatured at left in Fig. 4–3, and at right in Fig. 4–4; Keele is the other figure. 8 Ibid., vol. 1, p. 8. 9 Ibid., vol. 1, p. 34.



“a sojourner amongst us”99

these figures. Several pages also depict Japan Express editor Raphael Schoyer, the lone American publisher of the group. True to form, Hansard responded to Wirgman’s attacks in the pages of his Herald. In the June 7, 1862, edition of the newspaper, a short article about the Punch under the heading “THE CURRENT LIBELS” claimed the following: We have heard it stated, in a quarter likely to be well informed, that H.B.M.’s Charge d’Affaires has expressed his intention to take any steps necessary to suppress that nuisance which has lately existed in the community so offensive to the respectable portion of it and so likely to lead to numerous breaches of the peace. We rejoice to have heard this, and heartily trust the report is well founded, for there is a point beyond which it is well that even the most patient and forbearing should not be strained. The community have the remedy in their own hands.  If a man publishes deliberately and willfully anything concerning another which renders him ridiculous an action lies against him.  Lord Chief Justice Wilmot.10

Needless to say, such admonitions did nothing but goad Wirgman on further. Writing in a subsequent number of his journal as “Lord Chief Justice Valmont,” he stated that if any person willfully or deliberately publishes that which renders another ridiculous an action he’s against him … Messrs Spankard & Veale having repeatedly published that which has rendered them ridiculous in the eyes of others an action lies against them.11

Thus he drew the entire community into the debate (as he did earlier when commenting that Yokohama’s citizens were so distressed over the defacing of the circulars that they “imbibed 200 cocktails”), criticizing everyone upset by his caricatures as being “thinskinned”: the respectable members of the community were wonderfully thinskinned and had not wit enough to appreciate Punch and considering that they think themselves much above the Queen and Ministers who are caricatured in the London Punch and yet do not fight the Editor nor get their “dander up” but are much pleased.12

Wirgman accompanied this text with a self-portrait (Fig. 4–5) depicting himself as armed and ready fend off his critics; the accompanying text reads “precautions taken by ‘Our Artist’ after caricaturing the thin-skinned community.” 10 The Japan Herald, June 7, 1862. 11 The Japan Punch, vol. 1, p. 33. 12 Ibid.

100

chapter four

Fig. 4–5. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1862).

This state of affairs might have continued indefinitely had Wirgman not suspended publication of the Punch from 1862 (or 1863) until 1865. Like the details of much of his life, the reasons are not entirely understood. John Clark suggests that for some of this time period Wirgman—having recently married and bought a house in Yokohama—was in England, tying up some loose financial or business ends.13 Whatever the reason, two cartoons make clear that Wirgman knew of his departure well in advance. The first, in Fig. 4–6, depicts a departing Wirgman (at left) and an obviously rejoicing Hansard and Keele; the second expands the crowd of characters seeing Wirgman off and adds a clue as to his destination: the bag Wirgman carries in the illustration reads in part “London—via 13 Clark, John. “Charles Wirgman (1832–1891), Recent Discoveries and Re-evaluation,” in British Library Occasional Papers II, Japanese Studies, ed. Yu-ying Brown (London: British Library, 1990), p. 261-276.



“a sojourner amongst us”101

Marseilles.”14 Was he first visiting France, and from there returning to England? We may never know. As Wirgman’s financial straits were a frequent source of self-parody in the journal over the years, it is very possible that economic concerns also played a role in Wirgman’s decision to focus his attention away from the Punch. By suspending publication of the journal, he could better concentrate on his journalism career. In 1861, for example, he published twelve illustrations in the Illustrated London News, while in the following year— the first of the Punch’s publication—that number dropped to five. In 1863 Wirgman may have traveled to Hong Kong and Shanghai; in August of that year, he accompanied a naval fleet to Kagoshima, where British troops carried out an attack on Satsuma domain in retaliation for the murder an English businessman in the Richardson Affair the year before. At some point in 1863, he married a Japanese woman named Ozawa Kane, and a son was born the following year. In 1864 and 1865, Wirgman continued work for the Illustrated London News, publishing over two dozen illustrations, and also operated an art studio with his friend Felix Beato (1834– 1908), a photographer native to the island of Corfu who had made his

Fig. 4–6. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1862). Caption reads “Expatriation— Departure of the stranger / frantic joy of blowhard and co.” 14 Japan Punch, vol. 1, pp. 55 and 63, respectively.

102

chapter four

name as a press photographer in the Crimean War. Operating under the name of “Beato & Wirgman, Artists & Photographers” (and later “F. Beato & Co.”), the two produced their work commercially and gave art lessons. The Japan Punch 2.0—1865 and beyond In the summer of 1865, Wirgman—now fully settled in Yokohama with a family and business—resurrected the Japan Punch. In typically flowery fashion, he described his return in terms of a failed search for “truth”: In once more appearing before the world, Mr. Punch begs leave to state that he has not been fortunate in his search after truth, though he has looked for it at the bottom of many wells…. Mr. Punch trusts that those infatuated mortals who peer into the mysterious pages of this sardonic and theoretic fallacies to make deductions of an insoluble nature but in all cases of mental confusion they will find lucidity and order in the settings of the Municipal Council.15

This opening passage was a parody of the typical newspaper prospectus of the period, used by editors as something of a “mission statement” for a new publishing enterprise. Wirgman here seems to be referring to the prospectus of Yokohama’s most recent entry to the publishing field, the Japan Times (see Chapter Five), the prospectus of which stated in part that the Editor … will be thoroughly independent and that though, in seeking for Truth at the bottom of her well, it may be necessary to risk drowning—for Truth he will seek.

“Truth” notwithstanding, from 1865 to 1887, Wirgman maintained a regularly irregular pace of ten to twelve issues a year, with approximately ten pages per issue. Although Wirgman’s favorite targets, Japan Herald partners Albert Hansard and O.R. Keele, had long departed the scene, the media remained a prime source of material for the “new” Punch. However, the Punch of 1865 also vastly expanded the boundaries of Wirgman’s satirical possibilities, revealing follies and fissures in treaty port life, the politics of Japan’s civil war and the Meiji Restoration, and the human foibles of greed and ignorance. Though Wirgman expanded his focus in the resurrected Punch and established a wider audience both in Japan and abroad, he never wavered

15 The Japan Punch, vol. 1, p. 71.



“a sojourner amongst us”103

in his effort to satirize local society.16 This included not only satirical images of the chaotic and filthy Bund area, or of Wirgman walking waist deep in water during the rainy season (the latter with the caption “the fine and magnificent climate of Japan as it really is during all the summer and part of the winter / dedicated to those deluded mortals in China who read poetical descriptions of the weather in the Japan Times”), but also extended text passages new to the 1865 version. For example, in one of the first issues marking Wirgman’s return to the publishing scene, the Japan Punch published “a brief description of Yokohama.” Although factually inaccurate, Wirgman’s satirical description reveals quotidian details of settlement life in a way that official accounts could not: Yokohama is an island situated in the bay of Yedo. It is surrounded on two sides by undulating hills which on the eastern side are being removed to make way for a Japanese Manufactory. To the south west rises a large pyramid coverd [sic] during nine months of the year with powder’d sugar …. Facing the town is the bay coverd with the moral persuaded [?] of western civilization, and the harbingers of western commerce in the shape of numerous empty bottles floating about. Like all places where the original building space allotted has been found too small the Yokohama of today is growing in height rather than in extent.  Commerce. The commercial statistics of the year show a decreasing ratio in Imports as compared with that of last year and preceding years. European goods are now bought from the Natives at a discount. The Japanese have exported many native officers during the last twelve months.  Finance. The Governor of this place regulates the money market, it is he who orders the rise and fall of itziboos, he is in league with a distinguished foreign financier who never speculates. When dollars are scarce word is immediately sent to the Governor who at once orders an influx of “boos” and the foreign financier sends away all the dollars to western countries, leaving the bewildered speculators in a state of pecuniary collapse.  Population. Yokohama contains a population of 3000 souls to wit. 3 merchants. 480 bill brokers. 18 ministers. 27 consuls. 60 legation and consular attaches 100 storekeepers 200 auctioneers 50 butchers 400 bakers 70 silk inspectors 1 teataster 337 grogshop keepers ….  Religion of the Natives. The Natives of Yokohama believe strangely enough in the almighty Dollar in which they differ most materially from all other nations especially the Anglo saxon. 16 Shimizu Isao hypothesizes that over 50 percent of the print run of each issue may have been shipped abroad (mostly to China and Korea), but there is no evidence to suggest that this is the case. Nevertheless, as the number of foreigners living in Japan increased in the 1860s, it is likely that an increasing percentage of the Japan Punch’s readership would have lacked the intimate familiarity with Yokohama life as compared to the 1862 edition. See Waaguman sobyō korekushon ワーグマン素描コレクション, ed. Haga Toru 芳賀 徹 et al. (Iwanami Shoten 岩波書店, 2002), vol. 1, p. 155.

104

chapter four  Climate. It rains during the months of January, Feb., March. April. May. June. July. Aug. Sept. Oct. Novem. Dec.[;] the other months are remarkable for a clear sky of deepest azure. The climate is beneficial to officials suffering from Phtisis. There is sometimes a breeze. Therm. Mea. Summer 90 deg Fahrenheit. Winter Min –0.17

The facts are spurious, but certainly telling. Yokohama is described as an “island,” for example, calling attention the bakufu strategy of surrounding all sides of the port with water and creating a “second Dejima.” Depicting Yokohama as growing in “height rather than in extent” calls attention to the increasingly crowded conditions of the settlement, while the depiction of trade relations as inverted (“European goods are bought from the natives at a discount”) parodies the economic stagnation that marked the settlement’s early years. The presence of “337 grogshop keepers” highlights the very real fact that the settlement—home to a growing, transient, and largely male population—was awash in saloons. The settlement’s preoccupation with commerce and finance, and the sense of frustration with both local and foreign governments over currency exchange (an issue that vexed Yokohama since its inception), is keenly communicated in Wirgman’s accusation that unnamed Japanese government officials and a “foreign financier” are colluding to control the market in Japanese currency. The issue of exporting “native officers” likely refers to the “Chōshū Five,” a group of seven young Chōshū samurai who violated bakufu policy in 1863 and left from Yokohama to study abroad in England. Finally, there is the matter of climate: Wirgman noted that it rained in January, February, March, April, May, June, July, August, September, October, November, and December—“but the other months are remarkable for a clear sky of deepest azure.” This statement is perhaps the most truthful of the lot, as anyone who has spent twelve consecutive months in the area can attest. The Yokohama Plungers Wirgman sought to capture not only the generalities of Yokohama, but also the particular follies of quotidian life. One recurring theme of the 1860s was the activities of the Yokohama Mounted Volunteers, the cavalry branch of a militia group organized in response to local anti-foreign violence. Since the Mounted Volunteers were not professional soldiers, their shortcomings were a frequent source of parody. A cartoon from 17 The Japan Punch, vol. 1., p. 140.



“a sojourner amongst us”105

an issue of 1866 (Fig. 4–7) depicts the Volunteers being bucked and thrown about by their mounts (Japanese ponies were generally considered small and ill behaved by European riders). The caption, which reads “‘Yokohama Plungers’ take their first drill / painful result,” refers to the group by a nineteenth-century slang term for cavalry; Wirgman was also perhaps playing on the basic meaning of “plunger” as something “being thrust downward.” As business was frequently slow during Yokohama’s early years, participation in such activities such as rifle shooting, hunting, and socializing at “the club” were a common feature of treaty port life. The Mounted Volunteers attended their “parades,” as the drills were called, more out of boredom than from any need to defend the settlement. In Wirgman’s view, however, it was not the lack of business that led to such diversions, but rather the opposite—it was all the shooting and horse riding that kept business from getting done: The melancholy wail “there is no business doing” ascends to high Heaven and fills our ears with sad forebodings. But if we take it into consideration the causes that have produced the effect we shall find them simple, theoretical, tautological and of the easiest solution.

Fig. 4–7. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1866).

106

chapter four Can a business man belong to the Chamber of Commerce, the Municipal Council, the Club committee, the Racquet Court, the Skating Club, the Football club, the Plungers the Rifle club etc etc attend their daily meetings and yet do any business? We pause for a reply —  Nevertheless every one in this community with the exception of the Editor of Punch and the Niggers belongs to at least six of the above sects.18

Other cartoons included a scene of pigs and chickens fleeing from a group on horseback under the heading “The Plungers charge and rout the enemy!” If the “parades” of the Mounted Volunteers prompted Wirgman to satirize the group in the pages of the Japan Punch, their inaction spurred him on even further. For example, the Volunteers were known to use their meetings for social as well as military pursuits. The illustration in Fig. 4–8—with heading of “The Plungers mutiny”—shows the Volunteers sitting amid several empty (and broken) wine bottles. In response to a request from the commander to appear, one answers “Tell him we cant come till we’re finished our breakfast.”19 While the identities of most of the Volunteers caricatured may never be known, the central figure in the image is Japan Times publisher Charles Rickerby, whom we will encounter in the next chapter. The Volunteers also seem to have taken a good deal of time off in between drills, prompting Wirgman to place a false advertisement (a favorite tactic) in the Punch reading Lost stolen or strayed the “Plungers” / whoever will bring any information concerning their whereabouts to the afflicting community of Yokohama will be thanked as a public informant.20

Following what must have been a considerable period of inactivity for the Volunteers, Wirgman commented on their sudden reappearance: The whole community were taken by surprise the other day by the startling announcement that the long lost Plungers had at length turned up, after an absence of 3 months, during which lengthened period they have been forgetting their drill and everything they had half-learned. They will consequently have to begin afresh and we may expect some fun.21

  18 Ibid., vol. 2, p. 168. The latter comment indicates that with regard to issues of race, Wirgman was a man of his day. The use of such racist language in The Japan Punch, however, was not at all common.    19 Ibid., vol. 2, p. 208.  20 Ibid., vol. 1, p. 225.    21 Ibid., vol. 2, p. 237.



“a sojourner amongst us”107

Fig. 4–8. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1866).

“337 Nationalities” More than any other contemporary observer, Wirgman noted the proliferation of different nationalities and ethnic groups in the settlement. By the mid-1860s, Yokohama was home to natives of the United States, Great Britain, Holland, France, Germany, Prussia, China, the West Indies, and so on. For natives of countries outside the treaty-port system, vocations were frequently limited to service industries—which in 1860s Yokohama meant operating a saloon. Wirgman noted that there were in Yokohama 337 such “grog shops,” owned by representatives of “337 nationalities including Greasers, Esquimaux, Apache Indians, Fenians etc etc.”22 When the joint fleets of Britain, France, the Netherlands, and the United States launched an attack on the domain of Chōshū in September of 1864, the “grog shop” owners were left bereft of their regular clientele. In an illustration from an issue of the Japan Punch from that period (Fig. 4–9), we see representatives of the “337 nationalities” huddled together in lament; one bears a placard that reads “we are starving.” 22 Ibid., vol. 1, p. 88.

108

chapter four

Fig. 4–9. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1865). The caption reads “Owing to the absence of the Fleet the grogshop keepers are reduced to starvation.”

And because there were so many different nationalities in the settlement, communication was a major source of concern—and one Wirgman turned to comic advantage. In the pages of the Japan Punch, he wrote variously in English, French, Latin, Italian, Dutch, Chinese, and Japanese. On one occasion he took things one step further, offering an example of “A specimen of the future language of Yokohama (very scarce).” The reader is invited to decipher the following: Dipsomaniacs YTO BbI KYIIIaAN calidum cum dai ski c’est pourquoi taking all cosas into consideration 我の意 said fufu confused e bigen no tubig, pero notwithstanding al fui se paga todo que es la pena del infieruo et cela does not boot me but it [illegible] to allumer el [illegible] of 道理 skashi nagar lest you should one augenblick suppose que cite circumstance mi fa dimenscare dat ik un Burio sons I herewith beg to inform you dat van af ote’nova ordem I will siempe spagieren mit watakushi no atama erect und ih mochte den Kerl sehen du op de shinpo van mijn Paleot would marcher! Ja fui amada d’un grande but those beaux days are o’er and humara corazon ever beats shimpaislically Vamos al Rancho there to while away die lustigen horas! Wo puh kan linger any more Partons kali spheres otano moshimas Allah Kherim!!  Cassi Ape’ Belatti Pamme leau23 23 Ibid., vol. 1, p. 224.



“a sojourner amongst us”109

English, French, Japanese (both Romanized and in the original kanji), German, Latin, Spanish, Dutch, Russian, Chinese, and Arabic, all combined into a single new language that is unintelligible, but also inclusive of difference in a way that many of his contemporaries would never consider—not even in jest. “Certificate of Demoralization” Another issue of great concern locally—at least for citizens of the British Empire, who made up the majority of Yokohama’s foreign residents—was the imposition of a formal registration process. In January 1866, the British consul general, Harry S. Parkes, issued a notification requiring all British citizens in Yokohama to register at the consulate. This was actually a reiteration of a regulation that had been on the books for residents of China and Japan since 1856, though it had not been recently enforced. In addition to registration, the notification stated that the Fees leviable for such Registration have been fixed at $1.00 for each certificate issued to Artizans [sic] and Labourers, and $5.00 for those issued to all other persons.24

Five dollars was no small sum in the mid-nineteenth century, and the editorial pages were soon filled with scathing criticisms of what was derided as a “head tax.” The Japan Times ran a histrionic response to the call for British registration, noting that while the registration of British citizens was in itself acceptable (“it may be necessary to enable the authorities to know over whom they have or have not jurisdiction”), the paying of an exorbitant fee amounted to “a poll or head tax for revenue purposes,” something that could only be levied by an act of Parliament.25 The Japan Punch expressed resentment toward the new registration process in several ways. One humorous piece imagined a tax “to the secretary of state for nobody’s affairs” levied by the “Fenian Legation” in Yokohama. The Fenians—also known as the Fenian Brotherhood—were a secret society devoted to the cause of Irish nationalism and independence active in Great Britain, Ireland, and the United States beginning in the 1860s. As a British citizen, Wirgman frequently used this group as a medium for his satire, as evidenced in the following passage:

24 The Japan Times, February 17, 1866. 25 The Japan Times, January 19, 1866.

110

chapter four FENIAN LEGATION Yokohama Jan. 1st 1866  On and after this date every Official his wife children and servants shall pay a tax to the secretary of state for nobody’s affairs of a sum not exceeding five dollars each year and in default of payment every person so offending shall be liable to a fine not exceeding one hundred dollars for the first offense. And it is also ordained and made public that the Fenian consuls at the treaty ports shall be empowered to add any number of O’s they think imperative to the above figures when said consuls find that the public treasury requires replenishing. Let this notification be placed in evidence at every consulate in China and Japan.26

Wirgman noted in that same issue that “in consequence of the Poll tax imposed upon British subjects and their wives, and owing to the utter inability to pay the 5 dollars,” the price of The Japan Punch would be raised to one dollar.27

Fig. 4–10. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1866). 26 The Japan Punch, vol. 2, p. 152. 27 Ibid., vol. 2, p. 154. The price increase did not actually occur.



“a sojourner amongst us”111

A “certificate of demoralization” (Fig. 4–10) illustrated Wirgman’s view that the registration process itself was demeaning. The text—which reads in part “Thereby Certify That Punch is duly demoralized in this Consulate as British coolie”—highlights Wirgman’s concern that registering with the local consulate was not simply a financial burden, but an impingement on his own personal freedom.28 Registering with the government, and being requested to carry that registration on one’s person, was in his opinion equivalent to occupying the status of a “coolie or servant”—or even someone lower on the social scale, as a cartoon (Fig. 4–11) from an 1867 issue of the Japan Punch makes clear. The caption reads “REGISTER’D just like a british [sic] subject. Dedicated to the present effete and stingy British misGovernment.” The picture, which demonstrates Wirgman’s skills as an illustrator as well as a cartoonist, depicts a Japanese prostitute carrying a lantern and wearing a wooden tag suspended from her waist. The reference Wirgman makes here is to the fuda that Japanese prostitutes were required to wear when venturing beyond the bounds of the licensed brothel quarters. By suggesting that the act of registration was equivalent to assuming the status of a menial laborer or prostitute, Wirgman effectively demonstrated the humiliation that he and others must have felt at having to carry a “badge of slavery.” “An Exceedingly Clever Production” As we have seen, local newspapers were frequent targets of the Japan Punch. On at least one occasion, however, these roles were reversed: in the March 2, 1866, edition of The Japan Times, a review of “The Japan Punch, an irregular serial, second series, Yokohama 1865–1866,” ran as the lead article following the editorials. The article originally ran in the overland edition of the Japan Times and as such would have found a wide readership in England and possibly elsewhere in Europe. One imagines that the Japan Times, as one of Wirgman’s frequent targets, would use the opportunity of a “review” in order to exact revenge. Instead, we learn that the Punch “records in so striking a manner and with no mean skill, the incidents of the history of Yokohama.” Wirgman’s talents, the Times continues, are so prodigious that to restrict his scope to Yokohama seems a waste:

28 Ibid., vol. 2, p. 172.

112

chapter four

Fig. 4–11. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1867). The gentleman to whose unaides [sic] pencil we owe the Japan Punch, had talent and originality which we should regret to see used in such a limited field as Yokohama, were it not that we cannot consent to deprive ourselves of the amusement we derive from his residence among us. We are aware that a certain number of copies of his publication have found their way to Europe, but without some explanation of the subjects and drift of his cartoons, they could hardly be fully appreciated there.29

For this reason, the review proceeded to describe a series of cartoons from the most recent issue of the Punch, explaining the principles involved and the context behind the humor. As it is the rare occasion when we have access to a contemporary “deconstruction” of a Punch cartoon, it will be worthwhile to explore one such example in detail. The cartoon (Fig. 4–12) mentioned in the review appeared in an issue of 1866 and takes as its subject the payment of an indemnity by the shogunate to the British government in reparation for Chōshū’s attacks on 29 The Japan Times, March 2, 1866.



“a sojourner amongst us”113

Western vessels sailing through the straits of Shimonoseki. The domain of Chōshū, following the emperor’s call to “expel the barbarians,” had shelled Western ships in 1863. In retaliation, the Western powers bombarded the domain’s encampments in 1864 and extracted a huge indemnity from the shogunate. The Japan Times article describes this cartoon as “a capital example of Mr. WIRGMAN’s power of satire” and continues with an extended exegesis of the cartoon: The young tycoon [i.e., the shogun] meekly submits his arm to the lancet of Britannia, who bleeds him to the extent of Three Million dollars, the amount of the Shimonoseki Indemnity money. She has her trident and shield with her—Admiral King’s fleet and the XXth. Regiment, but is unsupported by public opinion, as hinted in the significant note “The lion is so ashamed that he refuses to attend.” The two leading bankers of the port, into whose treasuries flow the proceeds of this abominable robbery are carrying away the contents of the bason [sic]. Our ally seems to be almost fainting under the operation to which his friend Britannia subjects him, his only support, slight and insecure, being the Customs’ duties, of which is well known he gets but a small share and CHIOSIU [i.e., Chōshū], in the distance, is splitting with laughter—as well he may be, to see one of his enemies weakening another by making him pay for his fault. The excessive injustice and utter absurdity of the exaction is better shown, because more rapidly, by this caricature than it could be by pages of print and we strongly commend it to the consideration of Members of Parliament who have any questions to put to the present Ministry on the conduct of the last “little war” in Japan.

Wirgman’s cartoon—and its explanation in the Japan Times—aptly illustrates foreign interpretations of bakumatsu domestic politics.30 The review continues to praise other cartoons in the Punch, as well as prose pieces, satirical market reports, and even Wirgman’s parodies of the Japan Times itself. In conclusion, the article states, the Japan Punch is an exceedingly clever production and so long as he is as good-humoured in his satire or as fortunate in the selection of good-humoured victims, we think, that the Japan Punch will flourish even in the midst of this exceedingly prosaic community.

This last comment may reveal the motives behind running such a fawning piece in the Times; by setting itself apart from the rest of Yokohama—the “prosaic community”—the Japan Times could position itself as a goodhumored ally of Wirgman’s journal for an overseas audience.

30 Ibid. Note that the illustration did not accompany the original review.

114

chapter four

Fig. 4–12. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1865). The caption reads “Britannia bleedeth the Tycoon.”

Late Tokugawa and France Another matter of continued interest (and, needless to say, ridicule) was the increasing influence of the French government on the Shogunate during the last few years of Tokugawa rule. This was due in large part to the efforts of Leon Roches, the energetic French minister who arrived in Japan in 1864, and his primary interpreter, the Jesuit priest and missionary Emmanuel Eugène Mermet de Cachon. Perhaps as much out of personal ambition as political aspirations, Roches staked his diplomatic tenure on efforts to keep the flailing shogunate afloat, albeit under French influence, while other governments (such as the British) increasingly turned their support to the large southwestern domains. In the 1860s, Roches negotiated with bakufu officials to introduce French technology and military expertise in return for favorable foreign trade agreements, with the hopes that Japan could be to France “what China is for England.”31 The most 31 Meron Medzini, French Policy in Japan During The Closing Years of the Tokugawa Shogunate (Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1971), p. 113.



“a sojourner amongst us”115

prominent outcome of this process locally was the decision to build a naval dockyard in nearby Yokosuka. As a French-speaking Briton with friends and relatives in France, Wirgman found ample material for satire in this course of events. Two issues of the Japan Punch published in the summer of 1866 were rife with references to the missionary Mermet de Cachon, who as a Japanese speaker was perhaps the most prominent figure in the Franco–Japanese negotiations, at least in the eyes of the Yokohama community. For example, a cartoon from the June 1866 issue (Fig. 4–13) depicts Mermet de Cachon as the sole French representative negotiating the sale of the naval dockyard at Yokosuka with a Japanese official. Mermet de Cachon, at center, gestures toward the docks (which had begun construction in March) and says, kindly remit one million and a half dollars to France for the docks immediately if you have no dollars sell your Boos [the Japanese silver ichibu] at 400.

The shogunate’s representative responds, “I am very sorry but I have no dollars, only Boos.” A small figure at left labeled “OBC” is a representative of the Oriental Banking Corporation—the largest British bank in Asia at the time—who expresses joy at the rate Mermet de Cachon has negotiated for them, as the dollar generally traded at 210 to 230 ichibu at the time.32 The other small figures—the competing local “disgusted bankers”—are, in contrast, quite upset by that same news. In another cartoon we witness the French school, begun by Mermet de Cachon in 1865 to train students for positions in ironworks and other small industries. Mermet de Cachon is located in the center (he is saying “mes élèves,” or “my students”), while Japanese people dressed in Western clothing surround him on all sides. The caption reads “Students of the French Tongue”—referring not only to language skills, but also to the fact that nearly all the Japanese students are smoking with French cigarette holders. A related point of contention was the establishment of a joint FrancoJapanese trading company (Société Française d’Importation d’Exportation) in 1866. Though purportedly independent of government influence, the merchants of Yokohama were greatly concerned that the joint company would receive the benefit of unfair trade influence.33 The bakufu used the

32 Bakumatsu ishin ki no manga: C. Waaguman · Kawanabe Kyōsai 幕末維新期の 漫画：C. ワーグマン·川鍋暁斎, ed. Haga Toru 芳賀徹 and Shimizu Isao 清水勲 (Chikuma Shobō 筑摩書房, 1986), p. 33. 33 For further details, see Richard Sims, French Policy towards the Bakufu and Meiji Japan, 1854–1895 (Folkestone: Japan Library, 1998), p. 52ff.

116

chapter four

Fig. 4–13. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1866).

company to import a large amount of military equipment, but the tumult of the 1860s impaired the company’s ability to function as originally intended. To the foreign merchant community, this setup was profoundly unfair, and Wirgman wasted no time in turning his attention to Mermet de Cachon. A pair of cartoons from July 1866 imagines Mermet de Cachon as a shopkeeper at a typical Yokohama “godown,” as the primitive merchant structures were called. In Fig. 4–14, Mermet de Cachon stands next to his shop, while the accompanying text reads (in part) sole agent by appoint. to the Tycoon for the supply of Arms Arsenals. Fleets Armies Cavalry Regiments Officers Men Workmen […] Shirts. Trousers. Coats. Ties. Watches. BonBons. Waistcoats. Cigars,

and so on. Wirgman adds a rare serious comment at the bottom, “respectfully suggest[ing]” that instead of buying material from France, the Japanese government would be better served were they to send officers to Europe to study; such a policy would “save much expenditure of money— and the result will be more beneficial.”34 A second cartoon from that issue 34 The Japan Punch, vol. 2, p. 238.



“a sojourner amongst us”117

Fig. 4–14. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1866).

shows Mermet de Cachon and two others at work at a “GovernmentalMercantile Unlimited Liability Company,” selling items such as wine and military equipment. Even the Japan Times, a frequent target of ridicule in the Punch, weighed in with praise for these illustrations in the June 30, 1866, edition, noting that the satirical images of Mermet de Cachon were “gems” that have “set all Yokohama laughing.” Finally, Wirgman brought the bakufu’s love affair with all things French to its absurdist conclusion with a list of crimes allegedly committed by Japanese unwilling to follow the Francophilic policies of the Japanese government:

118

chapter four

1. Snkekegi Tomigiro was degraded for daring to wear English shoes. A contract having been made by the Tycoons Government with that of Tenben [an inversion of “Benten,” where the French Legation was located] that he should only wear French shoes. 2. Yonekegi was sentenced to be beheaded for translating Shakespeare into Japanese, contrary to the contract which was to the effect that he should translate La vie de Jules Caesar. 3. Tayachatchi was condemned to be imprisoned for life for learning English the contract with the Tenben Government being that the Tycoons subjects should only learn French. 4. Yoshimat was severely reprimanded for swearing in English the contract being that the Tycoons subjects should only swear in French. 5. Tuami was tortured for selling silk to English merchants the contract being that silk should only be sold to the Tenben and shipped to France. 6. Toranoski was banished for presuming to learn the English words of command and for playing the fife contrary to contract. 7. Canroku was punished for drinking Ale and Porter the contract being that the Tycoons subjects should only drink French wines. “The Tycoon and his subjects will henceforth consider themselves as French subjects by order signed Tenben Government,” the page concludes on a note of finality. “Rumors in Chunks” International relations aside, Japan’s bewildering domestic politics—and their (mis)interpretations in the local media—were also fodder for the Japan Punch’s sharp pen. “In order that the Patrons of Punch may clearly understand the present status of Japan Politics,” an article of January 1868 noted, “we spared no expense and have devoured all the newspapers to say nothing of swallowing rumours in solid chunks.” The “intelligence” thus gathered read as follows: One the 32nd of December at 3 o’clock a.m. ‘Stosbashi (Satsuma waiting for the Mikado) Chosiu having declared himself regent which claim was ridiculous as it is well known than Echizen being Inkiyo had refused as such to allow Sir Harry Parkes to open Neegata the opening of Hiogo being a fait accompli and Yedo only awaiting the return of the Ronins to develop Tosa’s really admirable plan for breaking up the coalition (which was only frustrated by the burning of the Yashikis).35 35 Ibid., vol. 2, p. 96.



“a sojourner amongst us”119

Wirgman concludes that the report—in truth a jumbled pastiche of names, titles, and places—“is exhaustive and far more true than any general summary yet published.” Another fictitious article “from the Japan Sensational” notes that the new Mikado, Asakusa Mia Sama, has appointed Kujo Dainagon a Daijo Kunagon. Understanding the nature of this change of title as little as any other fellow, we do not hesitate to communicate it to our numerous readers, who will doubtless appreciate our endeavors to give them the earliest information.36

Such garbled news “summaries” aptly illustrate the way in which contemporaries understood the events of the Meiji Restoration: even though Wirgman greatly exaggerated the many omissions and errors in local reportage, his take on the news of the day aptly mimics just how poorly events were understood by a foreign press all too convinced of its own reliability. Later issues of 1868 continued to parody the local press, particularly John Reddie Black’s Japan Gazette, notorious for its support of the Tokugawa government and the final shogun, Tokugawa Keiki. In fact, support for Keiki’s cause may have been the impetus for Black’s founding of the Gazette in October 1867.37 Of particular interest to Wirgman was the Gazette’s favorable coverage of forces loyal to the Tokugawa shogunate, who were engaged in a civil war against troops of the new Meiji government. While the summer of 1868 saw the shogun’s city of Edo fall to imperial forces, the civil war was not yet over. Northern daimyo who had yet to accept the new government took as their spiritual focus Rinnōji no miya, the brother of the former emperor and uncle of the Meiji emperor. Rinnōji no miya established a court in the northern province of Dewa that was referred to by foreigners as “the Mikado of the North.”38 The Japan Punch humorously recounted this event in light of Black’s enthusiasm for those northern daimyo resisting imperial rule: News from the North informs us that the Editor of the Japan Gazette has been appointed Mikado. Although we think this event highly probable yet we will not undertake to state that Japan has sunk so low as to appoint the trembling lyre!39 36 Ibid., vol. 2, p. 120. 37 Grace Fox, “Introduction,” in Black, Young Japan, vol. 1, pp. vii–viii. Black’s proshogunate bent quickly made itself known, as the December 2, 1868, issue of The Japan Times’ Overland Mail noted, for example, “the Japan Gazette … has been notoriously the organ of the Northern rebels.” 38 See M. William Steele, “The United States and Japan’s Civil War,” pp. 45–65. 39 The Japan Punch, vol. 2, p. 136.

120

chapter four

Wirgman added that the new regime would soon restore the position of [Black’s] old ally Stotsbashi, Yoshinobu, Yoshihisa, Yoshida, Yoshiyoshi, Keiki, Keiko, Jeki, Choteki, Kekko, Kubo sama Shogun, Shiogoon, Taicoune, Tycoon, Tenka sama, Bakafu, to Power. Note: We have not been able to give his name in full because it would take up too much space. Ed. J.P.

This is a reference to the recently deposed shogun Tokugawa Keiki, whose multiple names and titles were a source of continual confusion to foreign observers of domestic affairs. Wirgman lampooned not only the Japan Gazette, but also Black himself. One caricature (Fig. 4–15) appeared in the same issue as the

Fig. 4–15. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1868).



“a sojourner amongst us”121

“summary” cited above, under the heading “The greatest author of fiction of the present age—Alexandre Dumas eclipsed.” The illustration depicts Black—dressed in a kimono bearing the crest of the Tokugawa clan—at work writing headlines for his newspaper. Black’s penchant for exclamation marks and sensational headlines is humorously satirized in the text box at right, which reads “Great!!!!!!!! Sensation!!!!!! Aidzu!!! On a mule!! Leads the army!!! in person!! His wife stays! at home and does!!! the cooking!!”40 Similarly, the text box at right pokes fun at the Gazette’s frequent misspellings: Sendai, Sendo, SENDAI, and SEN.die are all given as spellings of Sendai. Aizu domain, located in present-day Fukushima Prefecture, fought on the side of the pro-imperial forces during the Meiji Restoration, while Sendai (in present-day Miyagi and Iwate) remained loyal to the Tokugawas. The actions of both domains were a source of continual interest, and confusion, for the local media. Wirgman finishes off Black by writing the word “none” where his brain should be, as the fire of “truth” burns his headlines (lower left). Other cartoons from 1868 issues of the Japan Punch illustrate the degree to which the actions of the Enomoto Takeaki’s “Northern League” pervaded popular consciousness. The rebellion of the northern daimyo—and the establishment of a brief-lived republic on the island of Hokkaidō in the later stages of the civil war—are events largely lost in standard narrations of the period, but Wirgman was quick to comment on the developments in the north and their potential implications for foreign policy. He was evidently concerned that neighboring Russia would take advantage of the tumult and invade Hokkaidō, as evidenced in the cartoons seen in Figs. 4–16 and 4–17. The heading of the former reads “THE RUSSIAN BEAR AND THE JAPANESE HONEY—the bees dont [sic] see beyond their cells” and depicts a bear labeled “Russia” (Roshia) lapping at a honeycombed Hokkaidō (labeled as “Ezo,” a traditional name for the island). The second cartoon—a far cruder drawing—depicts Russia (represented by a twoheaded eagle, traditional symbol of the Russian state) as a spider at the center of a web, watching the battles in Hokkaidō and presumably waiting to trap the island during the confusion. The caption reads, “The Russian Spiders delighted!!!” While the matter of luring an island into a spider’s web—to say nothing of the fact that the spider is not a spider, but rather a two-headed eagle—runs counter to logic, Wirgman’s point is clear: Japanese weakness was inviting foreign aggression. 40 Ibid., vol. 2, p. 137.

122

chapter four

Fig. 4–16. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1868).

Fig. 4–17. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1868). “The Daijo Daijin Punch” Like many foreign observers of the shogunate, Wirgman understood that the figure of the emperor (referred to as the “Mikado,” in the fashion of the day) had an increasingly important say in Japanese politics in the 1860s. As the Japan Punch portrayed the situation, however, the emperor was an



“a sojourner amongst us”123

indecisive leader who relied on the sage advice of Wirgman’s alter ego “Mr. Punch,” the character featured on every issue’s cover and occasionally in the interior pages. In an issue of June 1867, Wirgman portrayed an ill-atease emperor requesting the services of his fictional counsel: Gloom was on the imperial brow and sadness contracted the Heavenly eyes. The jewel body was uncomfortable. The courtiers around him were silent and mute. And shed tears of blood freely. Suddenly the Son of Heaven looked up—a thought had struck him. He was happy. The courtiers’ eyes stopped bleeding. “Telegraph for Daijo Daijin,” said his majesty. The Udaijin looked at the Dainagons and the Dainagons looked at the Chuunagons and the Chuunagons looked at each other. No one answered. “Telegraph for Daijo Daijin,” repeated the Son of Heaven. “As it please your majesty your servant knows no such man. The office is not filled.” Answered the Udaijin wiping his nose on the mats. “Not filled” shouted the Emperor. Know ye not that one Punch whose dwelling is in Yokohama is by prescriptive right the chief adviser of him who is above the Clouds. Telegraph for him. I need his advice. I always need it.

To this request Punch—who is “engaged in compounding a cocktail” when the telegraph arrives—rushes to Kyoto to find the emperor in great distress and advises him to build railway lines all across the country. Furthermore, to Mr. Punch—an avowed monarchist—the Japan Gazette’s hopeless espousal of the Tokugawa cause left him with a temper “much soured” and a desire to destroy the Northern Rebels and smash their organ the J.G…. The horizon being then freed from the dark Tokugawa clouds[,] The glorious sun of monarchial Japan will shine in an unclouded sky much to the disgust of those who are waiting for Keiki.41

Needless to say, the arrival of the “Mikado” (i.e., the emperor) into Tokyo and the establishment of the new government was a cause of much celebration for “Mr. Punch.” While the Meiji emperor did not permanently relocate to the shogun’s former castle town until mid-1869, the first imperial progress arrived into the new capital in November of 1868, and in an issue soon afterward, Wirgman imagined a meeting between his alter ego—bearing a gift of the journal that bears his name—and the young emperor.42 Mr. Punch (Fig. 4–18) was now Daijo Daijin Punch, chancellor

41 The Japan Punch, vol. 2, p. 107. 42 The title—translatable as “grand minister of state”—was also known as dajō daijin. .

124

chapter four

Fig. 4–18. Illustration from the Japan Punch (1868). of the realm; with a copy of the Japan Punch in hand, the young Meiji emperor was presumably equipped to lead the nation. Conclusions Whereas the other English-language media of 1860s Yokohama were frequently engaged in dialogue with one another, Charles Wirgman existed as something of lone figure, a “sojourner,” in Albert Hansard’s words. And though he would become part of Japanese society to a far greater extent than most of his contemporaries—marrying a native, and remaining in the country until his death decades later—he was ever content to remain an observer of the contentious mediascape of bakumatsu Japan. Just as the Japanese media sought to uplift its imagined community of readers, and the English-language newspapers seemed bent on driving wedges between themselves and their competitors, Wirgman’s Japan Punch was content to throw peanuts and jeer from the sidelines—and in so doing provided us with an unabashedly subjective window onto treaty-port life in a way none of the others could.



“a sojourner amongst us”125

Though M.H. Spielmann was speaking of the original London Punch, his comments are perfectly apt with regard to Wirgman’s Japanese creation and will serve as means to close our discussion of the remarkable Japan Punch: [it] is not to be considered merely as a comic or satirical comment on the main occurrence or situation of the week, but as contemporary history for the use and information of future generations cast into amusing form for the entertainment of the present…. the record of how public matters struck a people, an imperial people, at the instant of their happening, is surely not less interesting to the future student of history, of psychology, and of sociology, than the most official record of the world’s progress.43

The Japan Punch, similarly, represents “contemporary history” for future generations to learn from and laugh at. When some care is taken to restore the original context behind them, Wirgman’s cartoons are no longer simple caricatures, but insightful and witty criticisms into media landscape all too convinced of its own importance. Thus these commentaries on bakumatsu Yokohama—while in one sense “distorting mirrors” onto historical reality—offer far more insight than most have realized, as the next chapter will demonstrate in detail.

43 M.H. Spielmann, Cartoons From “Punch” (London, 1906), vol. 1, p. v; as quoted in Thomas Milton Kemnitz, “The Cartoon as a Historical Source,” in Journal of Interdisciplinary History IV.1 (summer 1973), p. 81.

CHAPTER FIVE

THE STRANGE CASE OF “FISHER VS. RICKERBY” PRESS, SCANDAL, AND SATIRE IN TREATY-PORT JAPAN In this final chapter, we will examine an incident from Yokohama’s early years that encompasses issues of national identity, extraterritorial and personal justice, social mores, and public opinion—and one that could not have occurred without the presence of the periodical press to goad it forward. Life in the Yokohama settlement was often defined in terms of fracture and conflict, and to gloss over the differences that prevailed among the European and American residents of 1860s Yokohama is to misrepresent actual lived experience of the men and women who lived there. For records of dissent, we have turned to the information media that recorded them: the Japan Herald, the Japan Times, and the settlement’s very own satirical journal, Charles Wirgman’s Japan Punch. The events under consideration here further demonstrate that these media not only reported conflict, but also frequently instigated and sustained it—and minor though it may be in the context of that remarkable era, the “great case” of 1865 perfectly captures the competition and animosity that existed in Yokohama’s first decade. Glackmeyer vs. McKechnie Our story begins on October 13, 1865, at McKechnie & Co.’s dry-goods store, located at No. 67 Main Street in Yokohama’s foreign settlement. Early on the afternoon of the 13th, two municipal constables entered McKechnie’s and took an employee of the shop—an American named Gustave Glackmeyer—into their custody. The constables had been summoned at the bequest of the shop’s owner, Alexander McKechnie, who suspected Glackmeyer of stealing merchandise. At the time of the arrest, the constables pronounced no formal changes against Glackmeyer, who dutifully complied and followed the constables out of the shop. After being allowed to stop briefly at his own apartment, Glackmeyer was then led by the

128

chapter five

constables to the British Consulate, which at the time contained the only suitable lockup facility in the settlement.1 As there had been no formal warrant issue for his arrest, the consulate jailor refused to admit Glackmeyer as a prisoner, and after approximately one hour, he was released. At the American Consulate on the following day, Glackmeyer swore to a written complaint in front of the American consul, George S. Fisher. Glackmeyer told Consul Fisher that he had not stolen merchandise from his employer, and moreover that he was seeking five hundred dollars damages for false arrest and defamation of character. Since McKechnie was British, not American, Fisher forwarded the complaint to his counterpart Marcus Flowers, and shortly thereafter a date in the British Consular Court was set. The case of Glackmeyer vs. McKechnie was held for three days, from October 24 to October 26, before Acting Consul Flowers in the British Consular Court of Yokohama. Glackmeyer, as noted above, sought five hundred dollars in damages for false imprisonment and defamation of character with regard to the alleged robbery that had taken place in McKechnie’s dry goods store on October 12th. In reply to this charge, McKechnie entered a plea of not guilty, arguing that he suspected Glackmeyer of robbing his store and that he very sensibly went to the police to have him arrested. A saleswoman at the shop called to testify stated that on October 12th she had seen Glackmeyer “roll up something that looked like a piece of black luster and speak to a Japanese coolie,” and “immediately afterward saw the coolie leave the store with the parcel.”2 She added that it was not the first occasion on which she had witnessed such a scene, and that her suspicions led her to question the Japanese servant upon his return. The coolie replied that he had handed over the package to a “China girl” at Glackmeyer’s apartment. Additional testimony by other Japanese servants in McKechnie’s employ revealed that on several occasions packages had been delivered into the care of a Chinese woman at Glackmeyer’s apartment. McKechnie, after being sworn in as part of his own defense, testified that he had “at various times lost 200 sterling worth of goods including 33 silk dresses,” 1 Yuki Allyson Honjo notes that Glackmeyer was “probably placed in the British jail because it had superior accommodations,” though this cannot be determined with certainty; she adds that in the early years of Yokohama, “the American jail was seen fit only for drunk seamen” while “[w]omen, gentlemen, and officers were usually accommodated in the British jail.” See her Japan’s Early Experience of Contract Management in the Treaty Ports (London: Japan Library, 2003), p. 104ff. 2 The Japan Times, November 3, 1865.



the strange case of “fisher vs. rickerby”129

and that he had suspected Glackmeyer of the thefts for quite some time. According to McKechnie, Glackmeyer had been “constantly…meddling with the goods after being repeatedly told to attend to his own business— the books.” Informed by the saleswoman of Glackmeyer’s actions on October 12th, McKechnie had gone to the superintendent of the Yokohama Municipal Police, who in turn sent the two constables to arrest Glackmeyer. In response to the question of why he did not seek a warrant for Glackmeyer’s arrest, McKechnie replied that he had no idea that such a procedure was necessary, but that “had he been aware of the right method of procedure, he would have adopted it.”3 Acting Consul Flowers wasted little time in returning a not-guilty verdict. A portion of Flowers’ decision, as reported in the Yokohama newspapers, read as follows: [T]he Court has no hesitation in finding for the defendants. If a person falsely and maliciously, and without probable cause, puts the law into motion, and gives a party in charge to the police, that is properly the subject of an action on the case. But when a felony has actually been committed, and that either a private individual or a constable has good and probable cause, or reasonable ground for suspecting a party, and has actually suspected that party of having committed the felony,—either the private individual or the constable is authorized to detain the party suspected until inquiry can be made by the proper authorities. The Plaintiff’s [i.e. Glackmeyer’s] conduct in the Defendant’s store had called forth sundry reproofs, and was such as to force the Defendants to give the Plaintiff both verbal and written notice to leave his employment…. Goods of considerable value were stolen from Defendant’s shop, and Plaintiff’s conduct excited Defendant’s suspicion. Subsequently, again and again, thefts were committed in Defendant’s store during the hours of business, and the Plaintiff’s conduct still excited Defendant’s suspicion and caused him to communicate with the chief of the Municipal Police, whom he believed to be the proper party to consult in that matter.4

Flowers added that the evidence fully satisfies this Court that on the 12th instant at least, Plaintiff [i.e., Glackmeyer] did send from Defendants shop to Plaintiffs residence a parcel of Defendants goods without Defendants knowledge or consent, and which goods the Plaintiff had not bought nor accounted for in any manner.

Under such circumstances, Flowers said, it was entirely justified that McKechnie followed the course of action that he did. Therefore “the 3 Ibid. 4 The Japan Herald, November 4, 1865.

130

chapter five

charge of defamation of character has not been proved, and is dismissed, as well as the charge of false imprisonment.” The consul also took the opportunity to remind the Municipal Council of the expediency, and indeed the absolute necessity of clearly defining the duties of the Municipal Police, and of making them understand and confine themselves to their proper functions.

Flowers ordered that Glackmeyer pay the costs of having brought the suit before the court, and for the moment the matter rested. Shortly after the conclusion of Glackmeyer vs. McKechnie, however, Glackmeyer conducted an unusual public-relations campaign in his own defense. In the pages of the Japan Herald beginning on November 7, he submitted for publication in the advertisement section the following statement, under the heading of “A Card”: The undersigned respectfully calls attention to the Public to the accompanying letter of Messrs. A. McKechnie & Co., which H.B.M.’s Acting Consul in his most extraordinary decision of the case of myself v. McKechnie (from which I have taken an appeal) solemnly states was a written notice to me to quit his service…. I beg to subscribe myself, Respectfully, G. Glackmeyer.5

The accompanying letter from McKechnie, dated September 12, states that we shall not require your services here beyond 30th instant, but if you undertake the other shop and think you can make a paying business there … we shall allow the same salary a month there, that we agree to give you here…. Yours truly, Signed A. McKechnie & Co.6

In response McKechnie submitted a letter to the editor of the Japan Herald, which ran on November 11 (the same letter also ran in the Times). “Dear Sir,” it began, we notice, in your issue of Tuesday 7th instant, an advertisement, headed “a card.” We cannot understand, exactly, the meaning that Mr. Glackmeyer wishes to convey to the public, so [we] think it is right to throw additional light on the subject.

McKechnie explained that when the letter referred to by him, was written by us, it was previous to our having suspected him, as it was only on the 19th September, we first missed a parcel of Silks, and the letter published by him was written on the 12th. The fact of our offering Mr. Glackmeyer an engagement in our other 5 The Japan Herald, November 11, 1865. 6 Ibid.



the strange case of “fisher vs. rickerby”131 establishment at No. 102 clearly proves that, up to that time, we had not the slightest doubt as to his integrity.

The letter concludes that the reason for giving Glackmeyer notice was “his inability to perform satisfactorily the especial duties required of him.”7 Though Glackmeyer may not have won this battle, the war was not yet over. Editorial Response Yokohama in the autumn of 1865 was home to two weekly newspapers. The first, as we saw in Chapter Three, was Albert W. Hansard’s Japan Herald. Hansard’s newspaper was then under the editorship of John Reddie Black and at nearly four years old was easily the most venerable member of Yokohama’s periodical press. The other newspaper was the upstart Japan Times, which was published and edited by Charles Rickerby, an Englishman who had come to Japan in 1862 as a branch manager of the Central Bank of Western India. Along with three partners (James R. Anglin, Charles L. Westwood, and Benjamin Seare), Rickerby bought the printing press and equipment from the defunct Japan Commercial News and founded his own weekly newspaper in September 1865. As was the custom of the treaty-port press throughout Asia, both the Japan Herald and the Japan Times regularly published results of consular court cases, and articles on Glackmeyer vs. McKechnie appeared in October and November of 1865. Hansard and Black’s Herald gave a brief and rather dry account of the case, simply running a report of the proceedings with no editorial comment. The fact that it was the fourth item that ran in the paper on November 11—following an editorial about Japanese merchants, a report of a military drill, and an account of a recent meeting of the Yokohama Rifle Association—suggests that editor Black did not consider the matter of great importance. Rickerby’s account of the matter was altogether different. Perhaps in keeping with the prospectus of the Times from the first issue—“in pursuing the Right, [the Editor] may have to attack vested interests, make for himself powerful foes and perhaps lose powerful friends”—Rickerby devoted roughly half of its editorial and local coverage to the case in its issue of November 10.8 The bulk of this was criticism directed toward 7 Ibid. 8 The Japan Times, September 8, 1865.

132

chapter five

Fisher, who was not only consul of the United States, but also a practicing attorney-at-law whom Glackmeyer had apparently contracted to handle his case. Editor Rickerby noted that this was both “odd”—imagine a case, he said, in which a man might serve as judge and lawyer for the same person—as well as overly secretive: “the fact is not so widely known as it should be, nor do we ever remember having seen any announcements of it by advertisement or otherwise.” Though American diplomats frequently served multiple roles in nineteenth-century Asia—the “merchant-consul” was the most frequent combination—the British generally did not follow this practice, so in Rickerby’s view the two roles were thoroughly irreconcilable. Fisher’s having served as Glackmeyer’s unpaid legal advisor as well as his official consul was a “curious metaphysical problem” at once unethical and possibly illegal, and furthermore meant that Fisher was “carrying out to excess the theory of the duality of the brain”9—the latter comment referring to research by scientists such as Paul Broca and John Hughlings Jackson, who theorized that the two halves of the brain were dual in nature but nonetheless acted together in concert, like two eyes. According to this theory, when the two hemispheres of the brain each worked independently of the other—as Rickerby suggests was the case with Fisher’s brain—mental illness was the inevitable result. The editorial further commented on “the inconsequence of [Fisher’s] logic” with regard to Glackmeyer. According to Consul Fisher, the plaintiff was of the “most excellent, honorable, and amiable character,” a charge Rickerby countered with the fact that Glackmeyer “admitted himself that he was living with a Chinese prostitute.”10 The November 10 issue of the Times also published a series of diplomatic correspondence sent from Fisher to Flowers from October 13 to 19, the days immediately following Glackmeyer’s arrest. From these letters we learn something of Consul Fisher and his relationship with Glackmeyer. “I am fully satisfied of the good character of Mr. Glackmeyer,” who was “an innocent young man…brutally [and] without an explanation thrust” into jail on October 13.11 We learn that McKechnie had submitted a complaint against Glackmeyer to Consul Flowers on October 14, with the expectation that Flowers would contact Fisher and that the latter would agree to hear the case in the American Consular Court. Fisher responded to this request as follows: 9 The Japan Times, November 10, 1865. 10 Ibid. 11 The Japan Times, November 10, 1865.



the strange case of “fisher vs. rickerby”133 I beg now to call you attention to the fact that the complaint of Mr. Glackmeyer v. Mr. McKechnie, was sent from this Consulate and left at your office over one and a half hours before your complaint was received at this office and that by every rule that case should take place of the one filed by you and I most respectfully request you will give the matter a hearing on an early date as possible.12

One is struck not so much by Fisher’s puerile reasoning as by his willingness to draw nationality into the debate: “the rights of men as defined by the law of England,” he wrote in an October 19th letter, positively forbid such an outrage as was perpitrated [sic] on Mr. Glackmeyer … in this case the most fundamental right of personal liberty has been most grossly violated and no Englishman would submit to such illegal treatment.13

Fisher later complained that the letters had been published in the Japan Times without his consent (likely true), but Rickerby’s decision to run them in his pages was consistent with the editorial content of that issue. “Assault” Any chance this matter may have faded from public sight evaporated on November 11. As reported in the Daily Japan Herald of Wednesday, November 13, we learn of the following incident: Assault. On Monday afternoon at about three o’clock, as Mr. Rickerby was passing through the street at the back of the club, towards his office, he was overtaken by an individual who immediately attacked him from behind, striking him a heavy blow across the ear and side of the face with a stiff riding whip. On turning round to see the source of the attack, he was met by another cut across the eyes, and would have been most seriously injured but for the yielding of his spectacles, which, however, cut the bridge of his nose severely. Mr. Rickerby had only a small umbrella in his hand, with which, being an excellent master of fence, he warded off many more blows that were aimed at him.… It turned out that the attack was made by Mr. Glackmeyer, whose indignation at being mentioned unfavorably in the columns of the Japan Times last Friday, thus found vent.14

Rickerby covered this story in the Japan Times by directly quoting the above account from the Herald (with proper citation)—perhaps he felt 12 Ibid. 13 Ibid. 14 The Japan Times, November 17, 1865.

134

chapter five

that referencing his rival would lend an objectivity to what was obviously a matter of personal importance. Rickerby, however, titled the Times article “Cowardly and Brutal Assault” rather than simply “Assault” and prefaced the report with the comment that Glackmeyer had displayed the virtues for which he is so remarkable by making what would be called, in the case of any ordinary mortal, a most cowardly and vicious assault with intent &c., on a gentleman connected with the journal in question, whom he imagined to have been the writer of the phrases which had offended him.15

Rickerby wasted no time in filing charges against Glackmeyer, and a trial date was fixed for November 18. “The Great Case”—The People of the United States vs. Gustave Glackmeyer Rickerby was not allowed to file his complaint with the British Consulate, since it had no jurisdiction to preside over a criminal case involving an American citizen. Rather, the extraterritorial legal system meant that any criminal charges filed against Glackmeyer would have to be heard in an American court. That court, of course, was presided over by Consul George Fisher—the same George Fisher who had earlier described Glackmeyer as a man of “excellent honorable & amiable character,” and the same George Fisher who had been described in the pages of the Japan Times as dishonest, secretive, and suffering from “duality of the mind.” For Fisher, it was payback time. The People of the United States vs. Gustave Glackmeyer took three days to complete (November 19–23) and was, by all accounts, the talk of the settlement. From the very beginning, it was clear to all present that something unusual was afoot. After reading out the assault charges, Fisher asked, “How say you, Mr. Glackmeyer, guilty or not guilty?” Rather than respond in the requisite one or two words, Glackmeyer offered the following: Not GUILTY, that is, I am not guilty as charged in Mr. Rickerby’s complaint; I admit that I flogged Mr. Rickerby in the street. I had the most aggravating provocation offered to me that man could have, made by Mr. Rickerby in the Japan Times on the 10th instant, to which as a gentleman I could not reply,

15 Ibid.



the strange case of “fisher vs. rickerby”135 and which I had no other means at my command than to horsewhip Mr. Rickerby as I would a cur.16

One might consider an admission of guilt within a not-guilty plea unusual in and of itself (and possibly evidence enough to end the trial17), but this was only the beginning. After the testimony and examination of several witnesses—during which time Fisher continually frustrated Rickerby by disallowing several pieces of evidence, such as a medical record detailing the injuries incurred from the assault—Glackmeyer requested that a copy of the Japan Times that he had brought with him be admitted into the trial as evidence. It was the issue of November 10, the one that contained such sharp criticism of Fisher as well as the bold revelation that Glackmeyer was living with a “Chinese prostitute.” Rickerby objected to the admission of the newspaper as evidence, arguing that it was “out of order and irrelevant” to the criminal proceedings. He was overruled by Fisher, who stated that Mr. Glackmeyer is quite entitled to hand in this paper as testimony, to prove that a strong provocation had been offered him, by a more disgraceful and personal article having appeared therein.

He then proceeded to take the paper from Glackmeyer and read aloud selections from Rickerby’s editorial in front of the court. Rickerby objected again, on the grounds that “such writing is irrelevant to this criminal inquiry, which is merely to prove whether the prisoner did or did not break the peace.” This was overruled. Following the newspaper recitation, Glackmeyer was sworn in as a witness. He again confessed to the assault, claiming that on Saturday evening, after reading the Japan Times, of November 10th, I determined, being in an excited state of mind, to horsewhip Mr. Rickerby, for the cowardly way in which he attacked me from behind the columns of his paper.

Upon cross-examination by Rickerby (acting as his own counsel), Glackmeyer added, 16 This quotation and those following are taken from The Japan Herald (Supplement) of November 25, 1865. 17 In the Japan Times Daily Advertiser of November 20, the same point is made: “[Glackmeyer] in a most excited manner immediately contradict[ed] himself and admit[ed] his guilt—he was not cautioned by the Consul that such statement [sic] could be used against him. On the contrary, his admission of his guilt was put upon as the record of the trial—substantiated by evidence the most incontrovertible—and yet formed in the mind of the presiding Magistrate, Mr. G.S. Fisher, Consul for the United States of America, no grounds … for the immediate passing of sentence.”

136

chapter five my feelings were in such an excited state that I did not quite know what I was doing. I remained in this state until I had horsewhipped Mr. Rickerby.

At times the questioning reached a comic level of absurdity — such as when Rickerby asked his assailant such questions as “Did I defend myself?” to which the Glackmeyer replied “Oh yes, with your umbrella, skillful in fence!” Finally, Glackmeyer—also acting as his own defense—introduced several witnesses and asked each a series of identical questions. The questions did not address the charges against him specifically, but rather spoke to the issue of whether Rickerby’s editorial in the Japan Times justified the assault. A partial list of the questions reads as follows: “Do you consider it right for one man to attack another, as I have been in the columns of the Japan Times?”; “Do you think Mr. Rickerby was entitled to insert this article in his paper?”; “Do you think it was gentlemanly in [sic] Mr. Rickerby to write that article?”; “What is Mr. Rickerby’s general reputation in the settlement—is it quarrelsome?”; “Has not Mr. Rickerby the reputation of being a quarrelsome, litigious, and meddlesome person?”; “Did not Mr. Rickerby “leave the bank [i.e., the Central Bank of Western India, where he worked as a manager] as a disgraced, degraded official?”; “What would you do were you attacked in the same manner as I have been?”; and finally, “What is your opinion about people who live in glass houses?”

This last question, one would assume, intimated that Rickerby either lived with or paid for the services of prostitutes himself. Rickerby, of course, strenuously objected to each and every one of these questions—and Fisher in turn overruled the objections on the grounds that they were “quite relevant to the case” (the Japan Times reported that Fisher actually said “revelant” throughout the proceedings). The responses of the witnesses were not uniform, but most of the replies—perhaps reflective of the farce the trial had become—seemed to deflect direct criticism away from Rickerby. For example, one witness claimed simply, “I do not feel inclined to be mixed up in this matter,” and refused to answer further questions. On the second day of the trial, Rickerby attempted one last tactic to extricate himself. He refused to admit that he had written the damning



the strange case of “fisher vs. rickerby”137

editorial of November 10 and stated that it could not even be proven he was the editor of the Japan Times. After all, he did not sign his name to any of the words published in the newspaper, nor had he ever publicly admitted to having written any of the editorial content. Fisher said that because “Rickerby has repeatedly occupied the time of this Court in attempting to disprove his editorship of the Japan Times,” Glackmeyer would be permitted to produce any evidence available that might confirm or deny Rickerby’s involvement with the newspaper. Glackmeyer proceeded to call a British citizen by the name of Benjamin Seare as a witness. Seare was a partner of Rickerby’s in an auctioneering and brokering firm that operated under their name and was known to have a stake in the Japan Times.18 Upon taking the stand, however, Seare refused to answer what he considered to be “impertinent” questions about Rickerby’s involvement with the Japan Times. In response, Fisher said that Seare would never have dared to act in this manner in any court at home or in Her Majesty’s Consulate, here, or they would most undoubtedly have been imprisoned.

“I know no American,” he added, “who would have acted in this manner.” When the court resumed on the 21st, Seare was again called to testify, and again he refused on the grounds that a British citizen could not be compelled to appear before an American civil court proceeding under extraterritorial law. Fisher ordered him removed from the court (Seare was “dragged from his seat” and taken “forcibly” out of the courtroom, according to the Japan Times) and requested that the British consul Flowers fine him for contempt of court. The rest of the day was given over to Glackmeyer, who continued to testify on his own behalf and then used his concluding remarks to reiterate his remarks of the days previous. When given a similar opportunity to conclude, Rickerby stated, “as I am unable to obtain justice in his Court, I decline saying anything further.” The court recessed until the 23rd, when Fisher returned a verdict of some 2,500 words that not only commented on specifics of the case (“a great deal of personal ill nature and ill feeling has been attempted to be worked into [this case]”) and relevant legal precedents, but also expounded on the role of the media in a community like Yokohama: The proper criticisms of a newspaper, the right of free and full discussions, of private character, of public men and public measures, even of severe, no 18 See Yokohama-shi chūō toshokan kaikan kinenshi: Yokohama no hon to bunka, pp. 436ff.

138

chapter five matter how severe, if true, calm, manly and honourable—cannot be objected to. But there is fair, honourable, manly criticism and review, or animadversion; and there is cowardly, disgraceful, contemptible personality malicious, unprovoked, and envious attack, the latter of which is outrageous and intolerable, and so ought to be held by every man and community loving peace, justice, and fair play. And the right of lawful criticism and searching … no man can rightfully complain of … but cowardly, covert attacks on private character personalities, and calumnations, especially in a mixed community like this, by one person against another, is and ought to be, nay, must be, frowned upon by every gentleman in it. … Every man cannot afford to keep a newspaper, and one nationality—in a mixed community like this, where all have equal rights, where each nationality claims and exercises a national sovereignty, should not be permitted unrestrainedly to attack, malign, defame, slander and hold up to ridicule, scorn, contempt, and outrage, another person, or nationality, and then shield himself behind the so called “privileges of an editor.”19

Note that Fisher twice referred to the fact that Yokohama was a “mixed community.” By this he did not mean that Yokohama was composed of Western and Japanese residents—presumably in his mind, the Japanese and Westerners who populated Yokohama did not form a single “community”—but that the foreign population of the settlement was made up of men and women of different nationalities. Furthermore, he noted that “one nationality” should not be permitted to ridicule or scorn “another person or nationality” in the press, especially in a “mixed community” in which persons of different nationalities each enjoy extraterritorial rights. Again we see the American consul’s willingness to draw nationality into the equation; by suggesting that a defining characteristic of the conflict between Glackmeyer and Rickerby was nationality—a point that neither party emphasized before, during, or after the proceedings—Fisher used the pronouncement of the decision to express his own frustrations at both the perceived hostility of the British press and, presumably, the lack of American newspapers in the settlement. While Fisher did rule in favor of Rickerby—“the court feels bound to administer the law, for words alone will not justify an assault and battery”—the degree of punishment clearly indicates with whom the consul’s sympathies lay. Glackmeyer was ordered to pay both the court and the plaintiff six and one-quarter cents each (a single issue of the Japan Times, in contrast, cost fifty cents), with the balance of the court costs 19 The Japan Herald, November 25, 1865.



the strange case of “fisher vs. rickerby”139

to be paid by Rickerby. The subsequent outrage over this verdict, as well as Fisher’s difficult conduct during the trial, prompted an unprecedented series of hearings, both public and private. All the foreign consuls (British, French, Dutch, and Portuguese) save Fisher gathered to discuss the issue  on Novem­ber 21, and the Japan Herald of November 25 noted furthermore that a public meeting of the mercantile community, at which a memorial to the Consuls of the other nationalities, was adopted—bringing before them the case alluded to, and calling upon them to represent to their respective headquarters the conduct of the American Consul; and expressing sympathy with them, at the insults offered to one of their body.

Though no records remain of these conversations, it was clear that tension in the settlement was palpable, and that the issue was far from resolved. Editorial Reply I: The Japan Herald The People of the United States vs. Gustave Glackmeyer was the talk of the settlement. J.R. Black’s Japan Herald printed a four-page supplement devoted entirely to a near-complete transcript of the proceedings and staked out its position in a 1,500-word editorial on November 25: The scene is played out, Mr. Rickerby wears the crown of martyrdom, and the Consular Court of the United States of America is a byword and a laughing stock.

Nonetheless, the Herald did not condone the Japan Times’ offending editorial of November 10: We cannot be supposed to have much sympathy with the editor of the Japan Times—or with anyone who, connected with that paper, writes, directs, or sanctions such articles as do constantly appear therein. With the article of last Saturday week, which led to the assault that resulted in the trial we are commenting on, we had no sympathy…. it was a great mistake to make allusion to Mr. Glackmeyer, in the manner he did.20

Nevertheless, the Herald maintained that justice had not been done— Glackmeyer had admitted in open court his premeditated assault, and it was clear from the onset that the American consul was biased in favor of one party: 20 Ibid.

140

chapter five The assault took place, according to the evidence, in a cowardly and atrocious manner … [and] was a deliberate design. It ought to have been decided according to evidence, and that evidence ought to have been fairly taken as well for the one side as for the other. Above all, the judge ought not to have been the advocate of either party.21

Furthermore, the Herald intimated, Glackmeyer did not even organize and prepare his own remarks: the case of the defense, however, was got up in a manner quite beyond the reach of Mr. Glackmeyer’s intellect, who could not even read correctly the paper on which his defense was written.

Herald editor Black did not speak to the issue of who might have written Glackmeyer’s defense, but noted that “public opinion is very strong on the subject”—a clue that Fisher was understood to be the likely culprit. In fact, the Herald continued, it was apparent that Glackmeyer was not really the protagonist of his own drama: from a very early period in the trial, it had become the opinion of all, that the case was quite misnamed, and that had it been “Fisher v. Rickerby,” it would have been called more correctly.

Fisher’s subjectivity and “absence of tact” amounted, the editorial continued, to a public “self-immolation”: “every effort that was made to hold him back and check him, appears only to have hardened his determination.” While this sort of invective eventually faded from the Herald’s news pages (replaced by discussion of the major issues of the day, such as imperial treaty ratification and tariff revision), publication of the rancorous official correspondence between Consuls Flowers and Fisher continued to fill the back pages of the Herald well into December. Editorial Reply II: The Japan Times Rickerby, for his part, went back to editorializing in the pages of the Japan Times, clearly emboldened by the animosity with which the settlement had greeted Fisher’s behavior in court. The Japan Times Daily Advertiser of November 21, noting that a full report would appear in the weekly and overland issues (the latter now lost), hinted at the harsh words that were to come:

21 Ibid.



the strange case of “fisher vs. rickerby”141 the utter illegality of the proceedings and the iniquity of the Judgment are patent to all. It is not too much to say now, that no one can hope to obtain justice in the American Consular Court, so long as it is presided over by the present Consul.22

Stepping high up on his soapbox, Rickerby’s lead editorial in the November 24th edition of the Japan Times stated in part, Men who come to the east, while they have golden opportunities and great advantages, have, at the same time to make equivalent sacrifices, and yield, in great measure at least, some of their most valuable privileges. Freedom of speech is restricted, public opinion hardly exists, representative government is unknown; [and] Consular despotism takes the place of Constitutional monarchy.23

He went on to call for the American consul’s removal, declaring that Fisher should be forthwith promoted from his present position in the United States Consulate, to some sphere of action where his peculiar talents will be better appreciated.

Rickerby said that despite the injustices he had suffered, he was determined to push onward. He did admit that he had “sinned against the canons of Yokohama taste” in referring to Glackmeyer’s Chinese mistress by a term “more distinct than polite”—it would have been preferable, perhaps, to have referred to the woman by means of “such euphemism as ‘soiled dove.’” In the final account, however, the case was not really about Glackmeyer at all: Considering all the circumstances of the case and the many facts which came out during the trial to prove to an almost moral certainty that he was merely an agent—the Court of public opinion has already dismissed him [Glackmeyer] from its bar, where a more dangerous criminal has been arraigned.24

The “more dangerous criminal,” of course, was Fisher, who not only flouted the law but also attempted to “excite an unpleasant feeling between nationalities”—a serious transgression in such a community as Yokohama, where Westerners needed to set aside cultural and national differences in order to present a unified front to the native population. According to the Times, Fisher’s attempt to force Benjamin Seare to testify, and the 22 The Japan Times Daily Advertiser, November 21, 1865. 23 The Japan Times, November 24, 1865. 24 Ibid.

142

chapter five

subsequent decision to expel him from the court, were acts to be deplored in the extreme: We maintain that [Seare] was illegally committed—illegally detained in Court on the second day of the trial—illegally expelled therefrom on the third day,—illegally carried through the public streets in durance vile and most illegally assaulted under the shadow of the British flag and in the sacred presence of Her Britannic Majesty’s representative in the British Consulate. Before this arrogant assumption of authority over subjects of another nationality, most of the points with which the case abounds, sink into comparative insignificance.25

Thus, Rickerby argued, Fisher’s misconduct extended far beyond the bounds of the case in question: darkness radiates as well as light and were this assumption of such enormous power by a Magistrate of one nationality over the subjects of another, to pass without severe check, the consequences of the establishment of such a precedent would certainly be most serious.

This was especially true in places such as Yokohama: For in small and outlying ports, in China, as well as Japan—most important interests are necessarily committed to men, young and comparatively inexperienced, in almost everything but their own special mercantile duties— and certainly unskilled in law. Not having at hand competent legal advice and assistance, such men would not be able to resist any such stretch of arbitary [sic] power as this attempted here, and it is chiefly for this most grave consideration that we take up the matter as seriously as we do.

In the final determination, therefore, we are sure that we carry with us the great majority of the community when we say that its more accurate denomination would be—first Fisher v. Rickerby; finally changed to Yokohama v. Fisher.26

Later issues of the Japan Times continued the discussion of the “great case.” In the December 1st issue, for example, we read the strongest criticism yet: we say most deliberately and advisedly that so atrocious an instance of maladministration of law and perversion of power by a public servant to gratify his own private hatred has not occurred for many years in any Consular Court.27 25 Ibid. 26 Ibid. 27 The Japan Times, December 1, 1865.



the strange case of “fisher vs. rickerby”143

The editorial added, no impartial man can peruse the record of the case without feeling the strongest suspicion that another actually prompted the assault and that Glackmeyer was merely his miserable tool.

The editorial of December 1 not only encouraged the Times’ readership to ostracize the American consul, but also reported that such action was already being undertaken by the foreign residents of Yokohama: his colleagues refuse communication with him—the community have most strongly expressed their reprobation of his conduct, he is ostracized officially and socially and he can only avoid dismissal by timely resignation of the office which he has disgraced.

Readers may have been surprised to read such a bald-faced attack on a member of the diplomatic corps, but Rickerby admitted he was trying to goad Fisher into action: these lines are written with the fervent hope that Mr. Fisher may bring against us an action for libel, when we shall have an opportunity of proving conclusively … the truth of what we here assert.28

Fisher’s disinclination to pursue this opportunity fueled Rickerby’s own sense of righteous purpose. In a later editorial he wrote, the modern martyrs—in the East at least—are those unfortunate men whose lot happens to be cast in connection with the newspaper press … he may be independent and pure minded; he must content himself with being treated as a literary DON QUIXOTE—or he may trim his sails to every wind and be a Sancho Panza.29

Rickerby added that while his position as “martyr” might seem a pitiable one, in the long term his cause will be proved just: when Japan becomes, as we anticipate she must, the Venice of the Pacific, the centre of communication between Europe and China and the entrepot of the China trade—then the YOKOHAMA PRESS will have a voice that will be expected with anxiety and listened to with attention—and for the coming of that time we wait.30

28 Ibid. 29 The Japan Times, December 15, 1865. 30 Ibid.

144

chapter five The Japan Punch and the “Great Case”

The Japan Times noted in its issue of November 24 that among the major news items of the week was “the appearance of a most excellent and humorous number of the ‘Japan Punch’ in which some of the staff of this journal are not spared.”31 As we saw in the previous chapter, the Japan Punch was Yokohama’s very own journal of political and social satire, written and illustrated by Charles Wirgman. As the “great case” was a subject of great interest in the settlement, it should not surprise us to find it satirized in the pages of Wirgman’s journal. While Wirgman is primarily remembered for his artistic talents, the issues of the Japan Punch that referenced the case also contained humorous versions of some of the letters written by Fisher to Consul Flowers during the duration of Glackmeyer vs. McKechnie. For example, here is Fisher’s original letter to Flowers of October 19, as later printed in the pages of The Japan Times: To Marcus Flowers, Esq. H.B.M.C. Consulate of the U.S. of America Kanagawa, Japan Oct. 19th 1865. No. 339. Sir, I have the honor to acknowledge your Communication of yesterday evening farther in relation to the complaint of Mr. Glackmeyer [illegible] M. McKechnie, and to thank you for setting the time of hearing on that case as therein stated. But lest you may take my silence to be an assent to your reasons why it were best in your opinion not to hear that complaint prior to my hearing and adjudicating the complaint of Mr. McKechnie v. Mr. Glackmeyer, I have to say— That the rights of men as defined by the law of England positively forbid such an outrage as was perpitrated [sic] on Mr. Glackmeyer, and it being an infringement of the clearest of all personal rights of political and civil liberty under those laws, and the laws of nation, Mr. Glackmeyer has the most indubitable right to be heard without reference to any other complaint whatever for it is not for Mr. Glackmeyer to prove his innocence but for Mr. McKechnie to prove his guilt. Is this case the most fundament right of personal liberty has been most grossly violated and no Englishman would submit to such illegal treatment unless under due course and restraint of law. 31 The Japan Times, November 24, 1865.



the strange case of “fisher vs. rickerby”145 The law of England and common law of the United States clearly says “to make imprisonment lawful it must be by process from the court of judicature, or by warrant from some legal officer having authority to commit to prison[”] &c and here, while quiet & unsuspecting attending to his ordinary business, writing up the books of the defendant, the defendant without authority, without a writ, without notice, & without positive evidence, indeed without any legal evidence but on the merest and idlest suspicion caused the seizure and arrest of a young man, it is believed by those who know him well, of the most excellent honorable & amiable character and of another nationality and brutally without an explanation thrust him into a British prison as a guilty thief and felon. Besides, it is not in the power of any man arbitrarily to arrest and imprison his fellow man without authority of law, unless he be taken in the very act of committing a felony and here where the law is ever open and available to protect rights and punish wrong, such an outrage, should be frowned upon and punished to the very utmost rigor and vindication of the law. It is meet & right therefore that the defendant be held answerable for such (to use the mildest expression) an extraordinary course as he has pursued, and I trust H.B.M.’s executors of her laws and honorable court will do justice in this case as it would do between subjects of her own nationality similarly wronged and outraged. I have the honor to be Sir, Very respectfully Your obt Servt, GEO. S. FISHER U.S.C

Wirgman cleverly parodies this letter, nearly word for word, in the Japan Punch: Consulate of Ne plus ultra Kanasawa, Japan Oct 48th 1685 No 1500974 Sir I have the honor to acknowledge your Concatination of tomorrow father in relation to the complaint of Mr. Whackmire Oh Mr. Maycatchme. But lest you may think that silence gives consent hear what I have to say. That the rights of man as defined by the law of England and by the uncom­mon law of Ne plus ultra positively forbid any one being an infringement of all personal, political, social, moral, ethereal, sublunar, verbose, comatose, domestic, civil, subaquareous, subterranean, celestial laws of nations; Mr. Whackmire had the most indubitable right to be heard by me alone without reference to you or any other man. It is not for Mr. Whackmire

146

chapter five to prove Mr. Maycatchme’s guilt but for Mr. Whackmire to prove his own guilt. It only remains for Mr. Maycatchme to prove that Mr. Whackmire is innocent. In this case the most personal right of fundamental “liberty” has been violated and no Britisher would submit to such illogical treatment unless he were obliged to. The uncommon law of Ne plus ultra states muddily that to make imprisonment pleasant and lawful the Hab. Corpus must be suspended. [text continues on page following as though interrupted] and here while silently scribbling in defendants book defendant without writ write reason logic “by your leave” or any of the usual forms of international courtesy in fact without any suspicion without any evidence but with the Municipal Police arrested this excellent innocent mild, gentlemanly, inoffensive, angelic, sweetemper’d, orderloving, diligent, honest, brave, good, noble, distinguished and perfect young man hospitable honorable amiable social of another nationality scientifically without condonation [sic], thrust within half a mile of a British prison Besides it is not in the power of any man to imprison arrest etc. without authority of law unless!—Such an outrage should be frowned upon. And I trust that H.M.B.S. executioners on her law and honorific court will do the same justice in this case as I always have done in my court!!— –I have the honor to be Siree Very respectably Your astonished Serf   IXϑ0832

Note the change in names—Glackmeyer becomes “Whackmire” (no doubt in reference to the latter’s assault on Rickerby) and McKechnie is “May-catch-me.” Wirgman neatly captures the consul’s sense of national superiority by changing the “Consulate of the U.S. of America” to the “Consulate of Ne Plus Ultra” and furthermore sends up the original letter’s description of Glackmeyer in a most amusing fashion, by retaining Fisher’s awkward wording—“a young man … of the most excellent honorable & amiable character and of another nationality”—and adding a few adjectives of his own: “excellent innocent mild, gentlemanly, inoffensive, angelic, sweetemper’d, orderloving, diligent, honest, brave, good, noble, distinguished and perfect young man hospitable honorable amiable social of another nationality.”

32 The Japan Punch, vol. 1, pp. 106–107. All illustrations in this chapter are from two (presumably subsequent) issues of the Punch, both dated 1865.



the strange case of “fisher vs. rickerby”147

Fig. 5–1. Illustration from The Japan Punch, 1865.

Wirgman’s forte, though, was the satirical cartoon, and two later issues of 1865 amply demonstrate the artist’s wit and skill with the pen. One cartoon (Fig. 5–1) depicts Fisher as a two-headed figure handing over a large quantity of letters to acting British consul Marcus Flowers, who stands at the left. Recall Rickerby’s comment that Fisher suffered from “duality of the mind”; in Wirgman’s literal rendering of the phrase, the American consul is depicted with two separate heads. One head wears the gold-banded cap reserved for the diplomatic corps, while the other—his pockets stuffed with legal briefs—represents Fisher as a member of the legal profession. The caption, which reads “the ‘duality of mind’ presenting some letters in the Whackmire case,” aptly depicts the voluminous correspondence that passed between the two in November and December of 1865 (the great majority of which subsequently appeared in the pages of the Japan Times and Japan Herald). In the second illustration (Fig. 5–2), we see another two-headed Fisher speaking to a bespectacled Rickerby, who holds a pen and paper. Fisher’s “diplomat head” (at right) says, “Young man, I demand an apology,” while the figure at left responds, “‘Duality of brain’ I object.” Rickerby wears a bandage on his nose from the “horsewhipping” he received from Glackmeyer, also amusingly referenced on the previous page:

148

chapter five The late absence of all excitement has at length been succeeded by trials correspondence recrimination and finally by a charming case of assault and battery in which some serious damage was done to the nose of the Press, we are sorry to say that on this melancholy occasion the above mentioned organ was a little bit out of joint.33

A third illustration (and accompanying text; see Fig. 5–3) re-imagines the local conflicts as a series of sporting events, which were often reported in the Herald and other local papers. Wirgman’s humorous “spoting [sic] intelligence” reports on the “assaults to come” in the coming week. “Ichthos” is most likely Fisher, and “the Marquis,” British consul Marcus Flowers: Spoting intelligence  Assaults to come On Wednesday, Whackmire versus the Marquis Thursday, Ichthos versus the — Press Friday Whackmire versus the — Punch Sat. friend of Whackmire — Marquis  Sun. afternoon Press  M. friend of Punch  T. Ichthos v. Punch  W. Whackmire J. H—d

Fig. 5–2. Illustration from The Japan Punch, 1865. 33 Ibid., vol. 1, p. 110.



the strange case of “fisher vs. rickerby”149

Fig. 5–3. Illustration from the Japan Punch, 1865. The accompanying illustration depicts a well-armed Rickerby going to his office accompanied by several members of the Municipal Police. A fourth and fifth cartoon both refer to the Japan Herald’s description of Rickerby as wearing the “crown of martyrdom” at the conclusion of United States vs. Glackmeyer. In the center of Fig. 5–4, we see Rickerby (“I proteste”), being burned at the stake, receiving a crown of martyrdom labeled “Japan Herald” from an angelic caricature of Herald editor John Reddie Black. Also prominent is Fisher (though reduced to one head here), depicted stoking the fire at Rickerby’s right. While the identity of many of the other figures in the cartoon cannot be known, it is likely that the bound and teary-eyed figure at left is Benjamin Seare, who was forc­ibly

150

chapter five

Fig. 5–4. Illustration from the Japan Punch, 1865.

removed from the courtroom by Fisher during the “great case.” The figure behind Seare, conspicuous by his diplomat’s headgear and comment of “I proteste,” is Consul Flowers. A final cartoon (Fig. 5–5) continues this theme, except this time Rickerby is martyred in a different manner— boiled alive in giant teapot. The caption, which echoes Rickerby’s editorial of December 1, reads, “A superhuman mortal who almost speaks the truth, a literary martyr, the modern martyr of the East!!!!!” Thus rather than focus on Fisher’s wrongdoings in the consular court—as the Japan Herald and the Japan Times had—Wirgman opted instead to highlight Rickerby’s own histrionics and exaggerations in the pages of his Japan Punch. Joseph Heco Before concluding this odd episode in treaty-port history, we might consider the observations that Joseph Heco (subject of Chapter One) made the about the “great case” in his English-language autobiography: November, 1865. This month has witnessed a great commotion in the Port, caused mainly by some of the peculiarities of extra-territoriality. A certain English dry-goods dealer had an American employee named G., whom he suspected of pilfering. The dealer invoked the authority of his Consul, and G. was illegally arrested and lodged in the English jail. So the employee brought an action for false imprisonment against the dealer,–in the English



the strange case of “fisher vs. rickerby”151

Fig. 5–5. Illustration from the Japan Punch, 1865. Court, of course. In this case the American Consul, who happened to be the only American lawyer in Yokohama, was the Counsel for the plaintiff. This led to the local English paper making some very caustic comments on G.’s character, and these comments in their turn led to a severe cow-hiding, which G. inflicted on the Editor with much gusto in front of the club-house on the Bund. Thereupon the Editor brought an action for assault and battery against the said G. in the American Court, where the American Consul, G.’s lawyer, was now his judge. In the course of the case the English community seemed to be filled with the greatest animosity against the defendant and the Court, and several summoned as witnesses refused to answer pertinent questions put by G. as well as by the Court. On the 23rd inst. the following verdict was given, after the quotation and discussion of English and American discussion on similar cases … [quotation of verdict omitted] … This decision, as might have been expected, gave rise to a regular commotion among the non-American portion of the foreign community. Public meetings were held and much correspondence passed between the various Consuls. But in the course of the month the whole matter blew over in smoke.34

Heco’s words are significant for one simple reason: although a native-born Japanese, the former Hamada Hikozō was raised in the United States, was 34 Heco, Narrative of a Japanese, vol. 2, pp. 79–80.

152

chapter five

a naturalized citizen of the country, and worked for a time in the U.S. Consulate. His is the only recorded opinion of any party (other than Fisher) with an American perspective on the matters at hand, and his comments suggest that there are other ways in which the “great case” may be interpreted. In Heco’s opinion, at issue was “a local English paper” that made “caustic comments” about Glackmeyer—and rather than evincing the sentiment that Fisher was in the wrong, Heco asserts, “the English community seemed to be filled with the greatest animosity against the defendant and the Court.” Heco’s comments pointedly remind us that national sentiments were in evidence on both sides, and that the Yokohama English-language press was by no means the voice of the entire population (despite, one might add, its own frequent claims to the contrary). Conclusions Charles Rickerby’s “crime” was to make public an open secret of treatyport life. A significant percentage (if not a majority) of the single men of Yokohama lived with women to whom they were not married. While this fact was not kept strictly hidden—the British physician William Willis, for example, noted in an 1867 report prepared for the foreign office that it is computed that there are about one thousand prostitutes at Yokohama, of which number between two and three hundred women are employed as mistresses of foreigners, with an average wage, at the present time, of fifteen to twenty dollars a month each.35

By boldly printing in his newspaper that Glackmeyer lived with a “Chinese prostitute,” however, Rickerby was clearly violating the standards of local taste. Newspapers were an extraordinarily powerful medium, enjoying an audience that reached across the globe—for the Japan Times to comment openly on prostitution was a violation of the unwritten rules of treaty-port life. Accordingly, Glackmeyer’s assault aroused little sympathy for Rickerby among the settlement’s residents. However, Consul Fisher’s vindictive behavior and perversion of justice marked a far greater threat to the community, which is why in the final account Rickerby was transformed from a villain into a “martyr.” If Fisher had adjudicated the case properly, the foreign community of Yokohama could still have ostracized Charles Rickerby. They could have 35 Hugh Cortazzi, Victorians in Japan: In and Around the Treaty Ports (London: The Athlone Press, 1987), p. 278.



the strange case of “fisher vs. rickerby”153

shunned Rickerby’s newspaper, the Japan Times, or refused to patronize the brokerage and auctioneering firm in which he was a partner. However, Fisher so outstripped the bounds of acceptable behavior that the Japan Herald (and the majority of the settlement’s residents) could only sympathize with Rickerby and reluctantly come to his defense. The community was surely also anxious that the framework holding extraterritorial justice together was being taken apart by one man, who was acting alone and outside of the law. Intruding into one’s personal affairs was one thing, but threatening the judicial system upon which they staked their careers and businesses was another matter altogether. After the case of United States v. Glackmeyer, Fisher was the subject of ostracism himself, in his case by the other members of Japan’s diplomatic community—although it must be said he was never a particularly popular character. Accordingly, based on official dispatches sent to Washington from December 1865 to the spring of 1866, Fisher reveals himself to be a bitter and paranoid man, positive that the British are trying to ruin his career. Fisher wrote dozens of long letters home to Secretary of State William Seward explaining again and again his side of the argument with regard to his conduct in the trial. “It is a matter of extreme regret,” he wrote in a December 1, 1865, letter to Seward, that … I feel compelled in self-defense to write your Department particulars of a recent extraordinary and outrageous combined attempt by British subjects, and a few others influenced by them, in this Port against myself.36

The extreme length of some of the letters (the letter from which the above quotation was taken runs twelve densely written pages) makes one question whether Fisher understood that Seward might have had more pressing matters to attend to—such as work toward the reconstruction of his country after four years of destructive and bloody civil war—rather than read about the misadventures of a consul half a world away. The principal actors in the “great case” went enjoyed varied fortunes in the years to come. Fisher eventually petitioned to leave his post—and was fired the following spring, following a long and contentious relationship with the American minister, Anton L.C. Portman.37 Charles Rickerby, for his part, continued to rankle Yokohama residents with his caustic

36 Dispatches from United States Consuls in Kanagawa, 1861–1897, vol. 3: October 14, 1865– December 31, 1867 (Washington, D.C.: The National Archives, 1948). File Microcopies of Records in the National Archives: No. 135, Roll 3.

154

chapter five

commentary and haughty mien. As his rival Black noted in Young Japan, Rickerby “lacked nothing” so far as ability was concerned, but failed in matters of discretion: “had his tact been equal to his talent, the Japan Times might have become a power in the land.”38 Rickerby stopped printing his newspaper in 1870 (likely for financial reasons, though this is unclear), and went back into the auctioneering business.39 The merchant Alexander McKechnie, the plaintiff in the original case, eventually went bankrupt and left Japan for his native England. Gustave Glackmeyer disappears entirely from the list of foreign residents published in the years after 1865 and is never heard from again. In the final analysis, we may safely conclude that the ultimate victor of Yokohama’s public squabbles was Charles Wirgman, who continued to poke fun at local residents for another two decades; his Japan Punch ran until 1887.

37 See Jack L. Hammersmith, Spoilsmen in a “Flowery Fairyland”: The Development of the U.S. Legation in Japan, 1859–1906 (Kent: Kent State University Press, 1998), pp. 55–57. 38 Black, Young Japan, vol. 1, p. 377. 39 Rickerby returned to the newspaper business in 1878, though not for long. His Japan Times, New Series ran from January to July of that year. See Grace Fox, Britain and Japan 1858–1883 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1969), p. 427.

CONCLUSION Yokohama’s early newspapers have long been a source of interest to scholars of media and communication studies. Beginning with the efforts of Ono Hideo, dean of Japanese newspaper history, the periodical press of the settlement’s first decade has been exhaustively catalogued in terms of numerical data, such as the number of issues published, circulation figures, publication dates, and even down to the physical dimensions of the papers themselves and the type of paper used. While this focus on quantitative data has proved quite beneficial for the study of institutional development—it would be impossible to chart the rise of the modern newspaper otherwise—it has inevitably relegated the newspapers under consideration in this study to what we might call “primitive pioneer” status. Compared to their glossy successors in the twentieth century, these diminutive, non-timely publications hardly seem worthy of merit—save perhaps to measure how much the Japanese publishing industry has evolved in the intervening years. What this book has attempted to do is to appreciate these newspapers on their own terms, as products of their own unique time and place, and in so doing highlight their extraordinary qualities. English-language newspapers such as Japan Herald and the Japan Times were understood by their readers and publishers first and foremost as vehicles for private individuals to express their opinions in the public sphere, as editors Albert Hansard, John Reddie Black, and Charles Rickerby used their “soapboxes” to argue local issues and disparage their rivals. Hansard devoted column after column to criticism of the Japan Commercial News, and he was by no means the only publisher to use his editorial privilege to engage in intra-Yokohama conflict. In fact, the “entertainment value” of these caustically worded media conflicts may quite possibly have been one reason why such a small population was able to support so many newspapers (which, after all, were quite expensive and frequently redundant in terms of providing local shipping information, advertisements, etc.). To observe these media in diachronic isolation from one another is to have missed the wider dialogue that existed between and among them. Another objective of this book has been to reevaluate newspapers that have not fit neatly into narratives of Japanese media history, “orphans” of the bakumatsu mediascape such as Eugene Van Reed’s Yokohama Shinpō

156

conclusion

Moshiogusa, M. Buckworth Bailey’s Bankoku Shinbunshi, and Joseph Heco’s Kaigai Shinbun. English-language studies have tended to ignore or give short shrift to these newspapers, presumably because their authors could not read Japanese or deemed such efforts “crude,” while Japanese scholars have labored to fit these “multinational” operations into their accounts of Japanese newspaper history.1 Heco’s under-subscribed Kaigai Shinbun is primarily—and unfortunately—remembered today for its perceived paucity of readers, but its most remarkable feature was the variety and quality of its subject matter. Though it carried neither domestic news nor editorial comment, the Kaigai Shinbun filled its pages “with interesting articles of each country”—the workings of international treaties, modern technology, and even Christian theology were explored in the twenty-six issues published between 1865 and 1867. As we saw in Chapter Three, we may safely speculate that this was reason enough for many interested Japanese people not to want their names on a subscription list—but this did not mean that Heco’s newspaper was not widely read. In fact, the Kaigai Shinbun was very likely the most crucial information source on international affairs available in Japanese during the midnineteenth century. In its attempt to bridge the native and foreign populations of Yoko­ hama, Buckworth M. Bailey’s Bankoku Shinbunshi was equally noteworthy. Bailey’s newspaper reached out to its Japanese readership via “advice columns,” advertisements for Western firms, and friendly editorials that emphasized the communal goals of financial prosperity and mutual understanding. Furthermore, Bailey did not hesitate to criticize either Japanese people or foreigners if he felt that doing so was for the greater good. The reader will recall, for example, that the British-owned Japan Times’ unauthorized publication of a proposed map of the Osaka settlement prompted a harsh rebuke, as did bakufu compliance in illegal trade in Yokohama. Similarly, Eugene Van Reed and Kishida Ginkō’s Yokohama Shinpō Moshiogusa occupied a space in the field of bakumatsu media that is not easily defined. Press historians frequently shoehorn Van Reed’s paper in with the so-called civil war press that sprung up in the power vacuum created by the fall of the Tokugawa shogunate. Until the new imperial forces entered Edo in mid-1868, publishers were free to print whatever news they saw fit—and the vast majority of this was in some way supportive of the old regime. Van Reed’s Moshiogusa, however, resists such 1 See Hoare, Japan’s Treaty Ports and Foreign Settlements, pp. 141–167.

conclusion157 easy categorization. Rather than maintaining a strict pro-bakufu stance, the newspaper advocated first and foremost an end to Japan’s civil war and the unification of the country under a single flag. Like Bailey’s Bankoku Shinbunshi, Van Reed’s newspaper was also willing to criticize foreigners before a Japanese audience. In Van Reed’s case, though, this criticism was surely hypocritical, given his practice of running guns to both sides of Japan’s civil war while concomitantly decrying such behavior in the pages of the Moshiogusa. That such behavior was worthy of satire was not lost on Yokohama’s resident wit, Charles Wirgman. Wirgman’s caricatures have long served to identify former Yokohama residents when no photographic record is available.2 However, while Wirgman’s cartoons have long been revered from a distance, there has remained a shroud of impenetrability surrounding his caricatures—we may understand who are the figures represented in the Punch’s pages, but it has been a point of interest of this particular study to determine precisely why they were there. As this work has shown, the history of Wirgman’s Japan Punch cannot be separated from the history of Yokohama’s English-language newspapers. In fact, it was in such a newspaper that we first learned of Wirgman’s cartooning skills—recall the angry editorial in Albert Hansard’s Japan Herald that chastised Wirgman for the “defacement of public circulars.” To be sure, the follies of treatyport life, the hypocritical behaviors of the consular corps, and the domestic politics of the bakumatsu era were frequent targets in the Punch’s pages, but in the final analysis, Wirgman’s “bread and butter” was parody of the English-language media. It is quite possible, in fact, that the initial impetus for the creation of the Japan Punch may well have been a desire for retaliation against the Herald—a full 75 percent (forty-six of sixty-two pages) of the content that appeared during the Japan Punch’s first year of publication consisted of written and illustrated attacks on the Japan Herald and its owners, Albert Hansard and O.R. Keele. The Punch appears to have begun not as a satirical journal for all of Yokohama, but rather the means for Wirgman to pursue his vendetta before a wider audience. Though later years saw the incorporation of a wide variety of other topical material, the Japan Punch remained a fierce critic of Yokohama’s press, Wirgman’s cruelly humorous treatment of Charles Rickerby being a “great case” in point.

2 See, for example, Zusetsu Yokohama gaikokujin kyoryūchi 図説横浜外国人居留地, ed. Yokohama kaikōshiryōkan 横浜開港資料館 (Yūrindo, 1998).

158

conclusion

In the final account, we might briefly attempt to situate this study with regard to colonial and postcolonial studies. We need not reiterate the debates concerning the value of the “East v. West” dichotomy—suffice it to say that the very concepts of a discrete “East” and “West” have been problematized to such a degree that their very employability as anything other than heuristic devices has been permanently thrown into question.3 However, attempts to reconcile the problematic by such scholars as Homi Bhabha—whose watchword “hybridity” attempts to capture the ambivalence of the postcolonial subject—have not tempered their continued usage.4 The “East,” like the “traditional,” is surely a relative and unstable concept, but one whose endurance points toward its continued necessity. This is no novel observation, surely, and yet our own understandings of the nineteenth century still rely on just such shopworn dichotomies in order to render hasty conclusions and make rapid sense of the complex. In such a vein, this study has not eschewed the usage of such terms as “East,” “West,” “foreign,” or “native,” but instead has sought whenever possible to highlight the multiplicity of meanings inherent in such unstable constructs. Rather than condense the experience of Yokohama’s media makers in terms of nationality or ethnicity, this book has endeavored to present specific, unique, and conflicting voices from all sides. If we are to call into question the validity of absolute binaries in our discussion of Japanese treaty-port life, we must therefore briefly consider the possibility of compromise and mutual understanding. If the terms “East” and “West” lack epistemological valence in our discussion of the Yokohama settlement, might there have been some “middle ground” of shared experience? Here I follow the historian Richard White, who in his book The Middle Ground: Indians, Empires, and Republics in the Great Lakes Region, 1650–1815 studied the interaction between Europeans and Native Americans in seventeenth-century North America.5 White saw their interactions as part of a larger process of accommodation rather than acculturation; that is, rather than one population borrowing discrete elements from the other, new systems of meaning were generated through mutual exchange.

3 See Edward Said, Orientalism (New York: Random House, 1978); and Culture and Imperialism (New York: Vintage, 1994). 4 See Homi K. Bhabha, The Location of Culture (London: Routledge, 1994); and Nation and Narration, ed. idem (London: Routledge, 1990). 5 Richard White, The Middle Ground: Indians, Empires, and Republics in the Great Lakes Region, 1650–1815 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991).

conclusion159 Was there a “middle ground” in the information media of bakumatsu Yokohama? To be sure, there were publications such as Eugene Van Reed’s Moshiogusa, Buckworth Bailey’s Bankoku Shinbunshi, and Charles Wirgman’s playful and polyglot Japan Punch that revealed an intriguing “multinational” character. Marking a most intriguing phase in Yokohama’s history, these papers ran content and advertisements in Japanese and English (and even other languages), endeavored to engage a wide readership on issues of import to all, and in so doing suggested other possibilities for communal identity rather than simply native and foreign. Such attempts at communality, however, were frequently countered by established and influential newspapers such as the Japan Herald and the Japan Times, both of which fiercely emphasized difference: difference from Japanese officials and merchants, difference from Americans (both the Herald and Times were British owned), and, most vituperatively, difference from each other. These newspapers embraced divisiveness as much as the Japan Punch and others sought a wider dialogue—and, given that the Herald and the Times had the largest audience and the longest duration, likely served to undermine whatever “middle ground” thus might have been established. In the final account, the newspapers we have encountered in this study point us toward a history of the press that is neither linear not uniform, but rich with ambiguity and contradiction. We conclude that the periodical press of bakumatsu Yokohama should not be summed up in single narrative, but rather imagined as several interlocking domains of cultural sovereignty—each with its own vibrant, and conflicting, identity.

BIBLIOGRAPHY Japanese-language books are published in Tokyo, unless otherwise noted. Æsop’s Fables, Retold by Joseph Jacobs. New York: P.F. Collier and Son, 1909–1914. Akiyama Yūzō 秋山勇造. Meiji no jyaanarizumu seishin: Bakumatsu-Meiji no shinbun jijō 明治のジャーナリズム精神 幕末・明治の新聞事情. Gogatsu Shobō 五月書房, 2002. Alcock, Rutherford. The Capital of the Tycoon: A Narrative of Three Years’ Residence in Japan. 2 vols. 1863. Reprint, New York: Greenwood Press, 1969. Altman, Albert A. “Eugene Van Reed, Reading Man in Japan.” Historical Review of Berks County 30.1 (winter 1964–1965), pp. 6–12, 27–31. ——. “Modernization of Printing in Mid-nineteenth Century Japan.” Asian and African Studies, Annual of the Israel Oriental Society 4 (1968), pp. 85–105. ——. “The Press and Social Cohesion during a Period of Change: The Case of Meiji Japan.” Modern Asian Studies 15 (1981), pp. 865–876. ——. “The Press.” In Japan in Transition: From Tokugawa to Meiji, ed. Marius B. Jansen and Gilbert Rozman, pp. 231–247. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1986. ——. “Shinbunshi: The Early Meiji Adaptation of the Western-Style Newspaper.” In Modern Japan: Aspects of History, Literature, and Society, ed. W.G. Beasley, pp. 52–66. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1975. Ballagh, Margaret Tate Kinnear. Glimpses of Old Japan, 1861–1866. Tokyo: Methodist Publishing House, 1908. Barr, Pat. The Coming of the Barbarians: A Story of the Western Settlement in Japan, 1853–1870. London: Macmillan, 1967. ——. The Deer Cry Pavilion. London: Macmillan, 1968. Beasley, William G. Japan Encounters the Barbarian: Japanese Travellers in America and Europe. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1995. ——. The Meiji Restoration. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1972. Bhabha, Homi K. The Location of Culture. New York: Routledge, 1994. ——, ed. Nation and Narration. New York: Routledge, 1990. Bickers, Robert. Britain in China: Community, Culture, and Colonialism, 1900–1949. New York: Manchester University Press, 1999. —— and Christian Henriot, eds. New Frontiers: Imperialism’s New Communities in East Asia, 1842–1953. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2000. Black, John Reddie. Young Japan: Yokohama and Edo, 1858–1879. 2 vols. 1880–1881. Reprint, Tokyo: Oxford University Press, 1968. Bolitho, Harold. “Abe Masahirō and the New Japan.” In The Bakufu in Japanese History, ed. Jeffrey P. Mass and William B. Hauser, pp. 173–188. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1985. Burke, Peter. Eyewitnessing: The Uses of Images as Historical Evidence. Ithaca: Cornell University Press, 2001. Chang, R.T. The Justice of the Western Consular Courts in Nineteenth-Century Japan. Westport: Greenwood Press, 1984. The Culture of Print: Power and the Uses of Print in Early Modern Europe. Ed. Roger Chartier. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1989. Chaaruzu Waaguman sakuhin mokuroku チャールズ・ワーグマン作品目録. Kanagawa: Kanagawa Kenritsu Hakubutsukan 神奈川県立博物館, 1993.

162

bibliography

Chikamori Haruyoshi 近盛晴嘉. “Kaigai Shinbun to Yokohama Mainichi Shinbun 海外新 聞と横浜毎日新聞.” In Kanagawa-ken shi kakuronshū san bunka 神奈川県史各論集 3文化, ed. Kanagawa-ken Minbu Kenshi Henshūshitsu 民部県史編集室. Kanagawaken: 1980. Chikamori Haruyoshi 近盛晴嘉. Josefu Hiko ジョセフ＝ヒコ. Koshikawa Kōbunkan 吉川 弘文館, 1963. Clark, John. “Charles Wirgman (1832–1891), Recent Discoveries and Re-evaluations.” In Japanese Studies: Papers Presented at a Colloquium at the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London, 14–16 September 1988. London: British Library, 1990. ——. Japanese-British Exchanges in Art, 1850s–1930s: Papers and Research. Canberra: Australia National University, 1989. Cohen, Paul A. History in Three Keys: The Boxers as Event, Experience, and Myth. New York: Columbia University Press, 1997. Cortazzi, Hugh. Victorians in Japan: In and Around the Treaty Ports. Atlantic Highlands: Athlone Press, 1987. —— and Gordon Daniels, eds., Britain and Japan 1859–1991: Themes and Personalities. London: Routledge, 1991. De Fonblanque, Edward Barrington. Niphon and Pe-chi-li; or, Two Years in Japan and Northern China. 2nd Edition. London: Saunders, Otley, and Co., 1863. Despatches From United States Consuls in Kanagawa, 1861–1897. Washington, D.C.: The National Archives, 1948. Duus, Peter, ed. The Japanese Discovery of America: A Brief History with Documents. Boston: Bedford Books, 1997. ——. “Presidential Address: Weapons of the Weak, Weapons of the Strong—The Development of the Japanese Political Cartoon.” The Journal of Asian Studies 60.4 (November 2001), pp. 965–998. Ebihara Hachirō 蛯原八郎. Nihon ōji shinbun zasshi shi 日本欧字新聞雑誌史. Daiseitō 大誠党, 1934. Emery, Edwin, and Michael Emery. The Press and America: An Interpretive History of the Mass Media. 5th edition. Englewood Cliffs: Prentice-Hall, Inc., 1984. Eskildsen, Robert. “Renegotiating Foreignness in Bakumatsu Japan,” Asian Cultural Studies 22 (1996), pp. 1–15. ——. “Telling Differences: The Imagery of Civilization and Nationality in Nineteenth Century Japan.” Ph.D. diss., Stanford, 1998. Etō Shinkichi 衛藤瀋吉, “Chūgoku kakumei to Nihonjin: Kishida Ginkō no baai 中国の革 命と日本人、岸田吟香の場合.” In vol. 7 of Nihon no shakai bunkashi 日本の社会文 化史. Kōdansha 講談社, 1974. Fält, Olavi K. The Clash of Interests: The Transformation of Japan in 1861–1881 in the Eyes of the Local Anglo-Saxon Press. Translated by Malcom Hicks. Oulu: Societas Historica Finlandiae Septentrionalis, 1990. “Father Manicou’s Bakumatsu Diary, 1856–1864.” Translated with an introduction by Paul C. Blum. The Transactions of the Asiatic Survey of Japan, 3rd series, vol. 13 (1976), pp. 5–103. Fraleigh, Matthew. “Japan’s First War Reporter: Kishida Ginkō and the Taiwan Expedition.” In Statecraft and Spectacle in East Asia: Studies in Taiwan–Japan Relations, ed. Adam Culow. New York: Routledge, 2011. Fortune, Robert. Yedo and Peking: A Narrative of a Journey to the Capitals of Japan and China. London: John Murray, 1863. Fox, Grace. Britain and Japan 1858–1883. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1969. Goodman, Bryna. “Improvisations on a Semicolonial Theme, or, How to Read a Celebration of Transnational Urban Community.” The Journal of Asian Studies 59.4 (2000), pp. 889–926. Gordon, Andrew. A Modern History of Japan: From Tokugawa Times to the Present. New York: Oxford University Press, 2003. Guide Book of Yedo: The Tokio Guide. Yokohama: F.R. Wetmore and Co., 1874.

bibliography163 Haga Toru 芳賀徹 and Shimizu Isao 清水勲, eds. Bakumatsu ishin ki no manga: C. Waaguman ‧ □ Kawanabe Kyōsai 幕末維新期の漫画：C. ワーグマン ‧ 川鍋暁斎. Chikuma Shobō 筑摩書房, 1986. Hamada Hikozo 濱田彦蔵 (Joseph Heco). “Amerika Hikozō hyōryūki アメリカ彦蔵漂流記.” In Kinsei hyōryrūki shū 近世漂流記集, ed. Arakawa Hidetoshi 荒川秀俊. Hōsei Daigaku Shuppankyoku 法政大学出版局, 1969. Hammersmith, Jack L. Spoilsmen in a “Flowery Fairyland.” Kent, Ohio: Kent State University Press, 1998. Harris, Townsend. The Complete Journal of Townsend Harris. Ed. Mario Emilio Cosenza. New York: Doubleday, Doran, 1930. Hashimoto Sadahide 橋本貞秀, ed. Gyokuransai 玉蘭斎 (pseudonym of author), ill. Go’untei Sadahide 五雲亭貞秀 (pseud. of author). Yokohama kaikō kenbunshi 横浜開 港見聞誌. 6 (fascicles 3–6) published in 1865. Reprinted with an introduction by Kida Junichirō 紀田順一郎 by Meicho Kankōkai 名著刊行会, 1967. Heco, Joseph. The Narrative of a Japanese. Yokohama: Yokohama Printing and Publishing, 1895. Hikozo [Joseph Heco]. Kyoryu Ki: Floating on the Pacific Ocean. Translated by Tosh Motofuji. Los Angeles: Glen Dawson, 1955. Hoare, James. Japan’s Treaty Ports and Foreign Settlements: The Uninvited Guests, 1858–1899. Folkestone: Japan Library, 1994. Hoare, J.E. “The ‘Bankoku Shinbun’ Affair: Foreigners, the Japanese Press, and Extraterritoriality in Early Meiji Japan.” Modern Asian Studies 9.3 (1975). Honjo, Yuki Allyson. Japan’s Early Experience of Contract Management in the Treaty Ports. London, Japan Library 2003. H.P.B. (pseud. of Henry Blanchard). A Visit to Japan in 1860 in the U.S. Frigate “Hartford” and a Return From China by the U.S.S. Frigate “Niagara” to Aden and Thence Via the Red Sea and Europe to the United States. San Francisco: Women’s Co-operative Printing Press, 1878. Hsu, Hsuan L. “Personality, Race, and Geopolitics in Joseph Heco’s Narrative of a Japanese.” Biography 29.2 (spring 2006), pp. 273–306. Huber, Thomas. The Revolutionary Origins of Modern Japan. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1981. Huffman, James L. Creating a Public: People and Press in Meiji Japan. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1997. ——. Politics of the Meiji Press: The Life of Fukuchi Gen’ichirō. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1980. Humanity Above Nation: The Impact of Manjiro and Heco on America and Japan. Honolulu: Japanese Cultural Center of Hawaii and the Japanese Heco Society of Hawaii, 1995. Huntington, Rania. “The Weird in the Newspaper.” In Writing and Materiality in China: Essays in Honor of Patrick Hanan, ed. Judith T. Zeitlin and Lydia H. Liu. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2003. Ion, Hamish. American Missionaries, Christian Oyatoi, and Japan, 1859–1873. Toronto: UBC Press, 2009. Ishii Mitsutarō 石井光太郎. “Yokohama shomono tsukushi 横浜初物尽し.” In Nagasaki—Yokohama, ed. Etchū Tetsuya 越中哲也 et al. vol. 25 of Edo jidai zushi 江戸時代図誌, ed. Akai Tatsushirō et al. Chikuma Shobō 筑摩書房, 1976. Itō Hisako 伊藤久子. “Ishoku no kyoryūchi gaikokujin Buan Rīdo 異色の居留地外国人 ヴァンリード.” Kaikō no hiroba 開港のひろば 10 (February 1, 1985), p. 51. Iwasaki Sakae 岩崎栄. Ishin no kaigan: Kishida Ginkō den 維新の開眼—岸田銀香伝. Shin Kōa-sha 新興亜社, 1942. Jansen, Marius B. The Making of Modern Japan. Cambridge: The Belknap Press of Harvard University Press, 2000. Japan and the Illustrated London News: Complete Record of Events, 1853–1899, compiled and introduced by Terry Bennett. Folkestone: Global Oriental, 2006.

164

bibliography

“Japan Gazette” Yokohama Semi-centennial. Yokohama, July 1909. The Japan Punch. Yūshōdō Shoten 雄松堂書店, 1975. Jephson, R. Mounteney, and Edward Pennell Elmhirst. Our Life in Japan. London: Chapman and Hall, 1869. Jones, F.C. Extraterritoriality in Japan and the Diplomatic Relations Resulting in its Abolition, 1853–1899. New Haven: Yale University Press, 1931. Josefu Hiko Kaigai Shinbun 海外新聞, ed. Josefu Hiko ki’nenkai ジョセフ彦記念会. Waseda Daigaku 早稲大学, 1977. Kanagawa-ken bijutsu fudoki: bakumatsu-Meiji shoki shū 神奈川県美術風土記幕末・明 治初期篇. Yurindo, 1970. Kanagawa-ken Toshokan Kyōkai 神奈川県図書館協会 and Kyōdo shiryō shūsei hensan iinkai 郷土資料集成編纂委員会, eds. Kanagawa-ken kyōdo shiryō shūsei. 神奈川県 郷土資料集成. 11 vols. Kanagawa: Kanagawa-ken Toshokan Kyōkai, 1959–1984. ——, eds. Mikan Yokohama kaikō shiryō 未刊横浜開港資料. Kanagawa: Kanagawa-ken Toshokan Kyōkai, 1960. Kanai Madoka 金井圓. Egakareta bakumatsu Meiji: Irasutoreiteddo Rondon nyuusu: Nihon tsūshin 1853–1902 描かれた幕末明治 : イラストレイテッド・ロンドン・ニュース : 日本通 信 : 1853–1902. 2nd edition. Yūshodō 雄松堂, 1974. “Kanchō taiwa: Chikamori Haruyoshi shi o mukaete 館長対話—近盛晴嘉氏を迎えて.” Hiroba 10 (February, 1985), pp. 46–48. Kanesada Hanazono. The Development of Japanese Journalism. Osaka: The Osaka Mainichi, 1924. ——. Journalism in Japan and its Early Pioneers. Osaka: Osaka Mainichi (Osaka Shuppansha), 1926. Katō Yūzō 加藤祐三, Kurofune ihen 黒船異変. Iwanami Shoten 岩波書店, 1988. —— and Kawakita Minoru 川北稔. Ajia to ōbei sekai アジアと欧米世界. vol. 25 of Sekai no rekishi 世界の歴史. Chūō Kōronsha 中央公論社, 1998. ——, ed. Kindai Nihon to Higashi-ajia—kokusai kōryū saikō 近代日本と東アジア—国際 交流再考. Chikuma Shobō 筑摩書房, 1995. ——, ed. Yokohama Past and Present. Yokohama City University, 1990. Kemnitz, Thomas Milton. “The Cartoon as a Historical Source.” Journal of Interdisciplinary History 4.1 (summer 1973), pp. 81–93. Kiernan, Victor. The Lords of Human Kind: European Attitudes to Other Cultures in the Imperial Age. London: Weidenfeld and Nicolson, 1969. Kinkōdō Morookaya Ihee 錦港党師岡屋伊兵衛. Minato no hana Yokohama kidan みなと のはな横浜奇談. Preface by Kikuen Rōjin 菊苑老人. Yokohama, n.d. (circa 1862–1863). Kishida Ginkō 岸田吟香. “Shinbun jitsurekidan 新聞実歴談.” In Jyaanarizumu no shisō ジャーナズムの思想. vol. 12 of Gendai Nihon shisō taikei 現代日本思想体系, ed. Tsurumi Shunsuke 鶴見俊輔. 2nd edition. Chikuma Shobō 筑摩書房, 1966. Kitane Minoru 北根豊, ed. Nihon shoki shinbun zenshū 日本初期新聞全集. 61 vols. Perikan-sha ぺりかん社, 1986. Konishi Shirō 小西四郎. Yokohama kaikō 横浜開港. vol. 2 of Nishiki-e bakumatsu Meiji no rekishi 錦絵幕末明治の歴史. Kodansha, 1977. Kornicki, Peter. The Book in Japan: A Cultural History from the Beginnings to the Nineteenth Century. Leiden: Brill, 1998. Leonard, Thomas C. News for All: America’s Coming-of-Age with the Press. New York: Oxford University Press, 1995. Lindau, Rodolphe. Un Voyage Autour Du Japon. Paris: n.p., 1864. Liu, Lydia H. Translingual Practice: Literature, National Culture, and Translated Modernity: China, 1900–1937. Stanford: Stanford University Press, 1995. McArthur, Ian Douglas. “Mediating Modernity: Henry Black and Narrated Hybridity in Meiji Japan.” Ph.D. thesis, University of Sydney, 2002. McClain, James L. Japan: A Modern History. New York: W.W. Norton and Company, 2002.

bibliography165 McLuhan, Marshall. Understanding Media. London: Routledge Classics, 2002. McMaster, John. “The Japanese Gold Rush of 1859.” Journal of Asian Studies 19 (May 1960), pp. 273–287. Marumoto Masaji. “‘First Year’ Immigrants to Hawaii and Eugene Van Reed.” In East Across the Pacific: Historical and Sociological Studies of Japanese Immigration and Assimilation, ed. Hilary Conroy and T. Scott Miyakawa. Santa Barbara: ABC-Clio, Inc., 1972. Mayers, W. Fred, and N.B. Dennys; comp. and ed. Dennys. The Treaty Ports of China and Japan: A Complete Guide to the Open Ports of Those Countries, Together With Peking, Yedo, Hongkong and Macao. London: Trubner and Co., 1867. Medzini, Meron. French Policy in Japan during the Closing Years of the Tokugawa Shogunate. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1971. Meech-Pekarik, Julie. The World of Meiji Print: Impressions of a New Civilization. New York: Weatherhill, 1986. Meiji bunka kenkyūkai 明治文化研究会, ed. Bakumatsu-Meiji shinbun zenshū 幕末明治 新聞全集. 7 vols. Sekai Bunkō 世界文庫, 1961–1962. Meiji no medeiashitachi—nishiki-e shinbun no sekai 明治のメディア師たち—錦絵新聞 の世界. Nihon Shinbun Hakubutsukan 日本新聞博物館, 2001. Meiji no shinbun ten 明治の新聞展. Machida Shiritsu Hakubutsukan 町田市立博物館, 1986. Minami Kazuo 南和男. Bakumatsu Edo no bunka: ukiyo-e to fūshiga 幕末江戸の文化：浮 世絵と風刺画. Hanawa Shobō 塙書房, 1998. ——. Bakumatsu ishin no fūshiga 幕末維新の風刺画. Yoshikawa Kōbunkan, 1999. Munakata Morihisa 宗像盛久, ed. Yokohama kaika nishiki-e o yomu 横浜開化錦絵を読む. Tokyodō Shuppan 東京堂出版, 2000. Murdoch, James. A History of Japan, by James Murdoch. 3 volumes. London: K. Paul, Trench, Trubner and Co., Ltd., 1925–1926. Murphy, Kevin Claude. The American Merchant Experience in Nineteenth-Century Japan. New York: Routledge Courzon, 2003. ——. “Neither Out Far Nor In Deep: The American Merchant Experience in Japan, 1859– 1899.” Ph.D. diss., University of Maryland–College Park, 1994. Najita Tetsuo, “Introduction: A Synchronous Approach to the Study of Conflict in Modern Japanese History.” In Conflict in Japanese History, ed. Najita et al. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1982. Nakamaru Kazunori 中丸和伯. Kanagawa-ken no rekishi 神奈川県の歴史. Vol. 14 of Ken shi shiriizu 県史シリ一ズ. 2nd edition. Yamakawa Shuppansha 山川出版者, 1980. Nishida Taketoshi 西田長寿. Meiji jidai no shinbun to zasshi 明治時代の新聞と雑誌. Shibundō 至文堂, 1961. Nishikawa Takeomi 西川武臣 and Itō Izumi 伊藤泉美, Kaikoku Nihon to Yokohama Chūkagai 開国日本と横浜中華街. Taishūkan 大修館, 2002. Nishiyama Matsunosuke. Edo Culture: Daily Life and Diversions in Urban Japan, 1600–1868. Translated by Gerald Groemer. Honolulu: University of Hawaii Press, 1997. Notehelfer, F.G., ed. Japan Through American Eyes: The Journal of Francis Hall of Kanagawa and Yokohama, 1859–1866. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1992. Oaks, Robert F. “Golden Gate Castaway: Joseph Heco and San Francisco, 1851–1859.” California History 82.2 (spring 2004). Ono Hideo 小野秀雄. Kawaraban monogatari: Edo jidai masu komi no rekishi かわら版物 語—江戸時代マス・コミの歴史. Yūsankaku 雄山閣, 1960. ——. Nihon shinbun hattatsu shi 日本新聞発達史. Osaka Mainichi Shinbun-sha 大阪毎 日新聞社, 1922. ——. Shinbun no rekishi 新聞の歴史. Tōkyōdō 東京堂, 1961. ——. “Waga kuni shoki no shinbun to sono bunken ni tsuite 我邦初期の新聞と其文献 について.” In Meiji bunka zenshū, vol. 17, kaidan, pp. 2–22. Paske-Smith, Harry. Western Barbarians in Japan and Formosa in Tokugawa Days. Kobe: J.L. Thompson and Co., Ltd., 1930.

166

bibliography

Pedlar, Neil. The Imported Pioneers: Westerners Who Helped Build Modern Japan. London: Palgrave, Macmillian, 1991. Pyle, Kenneth B. The Making of Modern Japan. 2nd edition. Lexington: D.C. Heath and Company, 1996. Reynolds, Douglas R. “Before Imperialism: Kishida Ginkō Pioneers the Market for Japan.” Proceedings and Papers of the Georgia Association of Historians 1984 5 (1985), pp. 114–120. Rogers, G.W. “Early Recollections of Yokohama, 1859–1864.” The Japan Weekly Mail (December 5, 1903). Rogala, Jozef. The Genius of Mr. Punch: Life in Yokohama’s Foreign Settlement: Charles Wirgman and the Japan Punch, 1862–1887. Yokohama: Yurindo, 2004. Sabin, Burritt. A Historical Guide to Yokohama: Sketches of the Twice-Risen Phoenix. Yurindo, 2002. Said, Edward W. Culture and Imperialism. New York: Vintage Books, 1994. ——. Orientalism. New York: Random House, 1978. Satō Takashi 佐藤孝 “Honma Senzō: Meiji shoki ichi gaikōkan no kiseki 本間清雄：明治 初期一外交官の奇跡.” Hiroba 12 (August 1985), p. 25. Satow, Ernest. Collected Papers of Ernest Mason Satow, Part 2: Collected Papers, vol. 1: 1864– 1874. London: Ganesha Publishing, 2001. ——. A Diplomat in Japan. London: Seeley, Service and Co., 1921. Schodt, Frederik L. Manga! Manga! The World of Japanese Comics. Tokyo: Kodansha International, 1983. Shigetomi Akio 重富昭夫. Waaguman to sono shūhen ワーグマンとその周辺. Horupu Shuppan ほるぷ出版, 1987. ——. Waaguman to Yokohama ワーグマンと横浜. Gyōinshokan 暁印書館, 1991. Shimizu Isao 清水勲. Edo no manga 江戸の漫画. Bungei shunjū文芸春情, 1981. ——. Waaguman Nihon sobyōshū ワーグマン日本素描集. Iwanami shoten 岩波書店, 1987. Sims, Richard. French Policy Towards the Bakufu and Meiji Japan, 1854–1895. Tokyo: Japan Library, 1998. Smith, George. Ten Weeks in Japan. London: Longman, Green, Longman, and Roberts, 1861. Steele, M. William. “Goemon’s New World View: Popular Representations of the Opening of Japan.” Asian Cultural Studies 22 (1996), pp. 27–42. ——. “The United States and Japan’s Civil War.” In International Christian University Publications III-A: Asian Cultural Studies. International Christian University. Sugiura Tadashi 杉浦正, Kishida Ginkō: shiryō kara mita sono isshō 資料から見たそ の一生. Kyūkō Sensho 汲古選書, 1996. Sugiyama Sakae 杉山栄. Sengakusha Kishida Ginkō 先駆者岸田吟香. Ōzorasha 大空社, 1952. Suzuki Yūga 鈴木雄雅. “Aru Eijin hakkōsha o otte: A.W. Hansādo no kiseki ある英人発行 者を追って—A.W.ハンサードの奇跡.” Komyunikēshon kenkyū コミュニケーション研究 23 (1993), pp. 67–102. ——. “Bakumatsu Meiji no Ōji shinbun to gaikokujin jyānarisuto .” Komyunikēshon kenkyū コミュニケーション研究 21 (1991), pp. 45–50. ——. “Hansard Chronological Table.” http://pweb.cc.sophia.ac.jp/s-yuga/AWHansard .html. Tanaka Akira 田中彰. “Bakumatsuki no kiki ishiki 幕末期の危機意識.” In Kindai kokka e no shikō 近代国家への志向. vol. 18 of Nihon no kinsei 日本の近世, ed. idem. Chūō Kōronsha 中央公論社, 1994. ——. Kaikoku to tōbaku 開国と倒幕. vol. 15 of Shūeisha ban Nihon no rekishi 集英社版日 本の歴史, ed. Kodama Kōta 児玉幸多 et al. Shūeisha 集英社, 1992. Thomas, Nicholas. Colonialism’s Culture: Anthropology, Travel and Government. Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1994.

bibliography167 Uematsu Chōichirō 植松長一郎. Yokohama kaikō shōshi: bakumatsu no shakai haikei to jishō 横浜開港小史 幕末の社会背景と事象. n.p., 1974. Van Sant, John E. Pacific Pioneers, Japanese Journeys to American and Hawaii, 1850–1880. Urbana: University of Illinois Press, 2000. Vaporis, Constantine Nomikos. Breaking Barriers: Travel and the State in Early Modern Japan. Cambridge: Harvard Council on East Asian Studies, 1994. Visits to Japan, 1865–1866. London: Dean and Son, 1869. Waaguman sobyō korekushon ワーグマン素描コレクション, ed. Haga Toru 芳賀徹 et al. 2 vols. Iwanami Shoten 岩波書店, 2002. Waseda Daigaku Toshokan 早稲田大学図書館, ed. Bakumatsu-Meiji no medeia ten: shinbun, nishikie, hikifuda 幕末・明治のメデイア展—新聞・錦絵・引札—. Waseda Daigaku Toshokan, 1987. Westney, D. Elanor. Imitation and Innovation: The Transfer of Western Organizational Patterns in Meiji Japan. Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 1987. White, Richard. The Middle Ground: Indians, Empires, and Republics in the Great Lakes Region, 1650–1815. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1991. Williams, Harold S. Foreigners in Mikadoland. 1st edition. Charles E. Tuttle Company, 1963. ——. Tales of the Foreign Settlements in Japan. Rutland: C.E. Tuttle, 1972. Wilson, George M. Patriots and Redeemers: Motives in the Meiji Restoration. Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1992. Yamamoto Taketoshi 山本武利. Kindai Nihon no shinbun dokushasō 近代日本の新聞読 者層. Hōsei daigaku shuppankyoku 法政大学出版局, 1989 second printing. Yokohama grafica: Yokohama ukiyoe, ed. Yokota Yōichi 横田洋一. Yūrindō, 1993. Yokohama Guide, The. Yokohama: F.R. Wetmore and Co., 1874. Yokohama ima/mukashi 横浜いま／むかし, ed. Yokohama Shiritsu Daigaku 横浜市立大 学. Yokohama: Yokohama Shiritsu Daigaku, 1990. Yokohama Kaikō Shiryōkan 横浜開港資料館, ed. Yokohama chūkagai—kaikō kara jishin made 横浜中華街—開港から地震まで. Yokohama: Yokohama Kaikō Shiryōkan, 1998. Yokohama Kaikō Shiryōkan 横浜開港資料館, ed. Yokohama jinbutsuden—rekishi o irodotta gojū nin 横浜人物伝—歴史を彩った５０人. Yokohama: Kanagawa Shinbunsha 神奈川新聞社, 1995. ——, ed. Yokohama kyoryūchi no ibunka kōryū 横浜居留地と異文化交流, ed. Yokohama Kyoryūchi Kenkyūkai. Yokohama: Yamakawa Shuppansha, 1996. ——, ed. Yokohama mono hajime kō 横浜ものはじめ考. Yokohama: Yokohama Kaikō Shiryōkan, 2000 revised edition. ——, ed. Yokohama no kyoryūchi no shosō 横浜居留地の諸相. Yokohama: Yokohama Kaikō Shiryōkan, 1989. ——, ed. Yokohama to Shanhai: kindai toshi keisei shi hikaku kenkyū 横浜と上海：近代都 市形成史比較研究. Yokohama: Yokohama Kaikō Shiryō Fukyū Kyōkai 普及協会, 1995. ——, ed. Yokohama ukiyoe to Nagasaki hanga 横浜絵と長崎版画. Kanagawa Kenritsu Hakubutsukan, 1976. —— and Yokohama kyoryūchi kenkyūkai 横浜居留地研究会, eds. Nikki ga kataru jūkyū seiki no Yokohama 日記が語る十九世紀の横浜. Yamakawa Shuppansha 山川出版 者, 1998. Yokohama-shi Chūō Toshokan Kaikan Kinenshi Henshū I’inkai 編集委員会, ed. Yokohama-shi chūō toshokan kaikan kinenshi: Yokohama no hon to bunka 横浜市中央図 書館開館記念誌横浜の本と文化. Yokohama: Yokohama-shi Chō Toshokan, 1994. Yonemura, Anne. Yokohama: Prints from Nineteenth-Century Japan. Washington, D.C.: Arthur M. Sackler Gallery, Smithsonian Institution Press, 1990. Zusetsu Yokohama gaikokujin kyoryūchi 図説横浜外国人居留地, ed. Yokohama Kaikō Shiryōkan 横浜開港資料館. Yūrindo, 1998.

INDEX Aesop’s Fables 47 Anglin, James R. 131 Augustine, Heard & Co. 1, 50 Bailey, M. Buckworth 3, 4, 37–51, 65, 66, 157–159 Editor of Bankoku Shinbunshi 38–48 Bansho Shirabesho 34 Bankoku Shinbunshi 3, 4, 37–51, 65, 66, 156, 157, 159 See also Bailey, M. Buckworth Beato, Felix 101, 102 Black, John Reddie 35, 38, 73, 90, 91, 119–121, 131, 139, 149, 154, 155 Editor of Japan Herald 90–91, 139–140 Parodied in Japan Punch 119–121, 149 Burke, Peter 93 Charter Oath of 1868 56 Chikamori Haruyoshi 24, 28, 33 Chōshū 20, 50, 57, 83, 84, 88, 104, 107, 112, 113 Christianity 17, 24, 28, 29 Clark, John 95, 100 Cohen, Paul 45 Chūgai Shinbun 52 Da Roza, Francisco 81–83, 86 Dejima 8, 67, 104 Emery, Edwin and Michael 76 Enomoto Takeaki 60, 61, 121 Extraterritoriality 3, 37, 53 Fisher, George 128, 132–153 Parodied in Japan Punch 144–150 Flowers, Marcus 128–130, 144, 147, 148, 150 Fujita Tōko 18 Fukuzawa Yukichi 33, 47, 52 Gōtō Shinpei 34 Glackmeyer, Gustave 127–141, 144, 146, 147, 149, 152, 154 Gützlaff, Karl F.A. 29 Hall, Francis 8, 73 Hamada Hikozō see Heco, Joseph

Hansard, Albert 3, 67–79, 82–90, 94–102, 124, 131, 155, 157 Editor of Nagasaki Shipping List and Advertiser 67–69 See also Japan Herald Hansard, Thomas Curson 68 Harris, Townsend 7 Hashimoto Sadahide 10 Hawaii 1, 4, 49–50, 63–65 Heco, Joseph 1–4, 15–38, 49–53, 56, 67, 150–152, 156 Editor of Shinbunshi 19–21 See also Kaigai Shinbun Hepburn, James 19, 23, 50 Hiogo and Osaka Herald 91 Hoare, James 35, 91 Honma Senzō 20–22, 25, 29 Hoshi Tōru 39 Huffman, James 4 Ii Naosuke 12, 18, 81 Illustrated London News 48, 94, 101 Inoue Kaoru 34 Itō Hirobumi 33, 34, 56 Iwao Toshisada 34 Japan Commercial News 5, 18, 67, 81–89, 131, 155 Japan Express 5, 67, 77–81 Japan Gazette 91, 119–123 Japan Herald 3–5, 18, 30, 69–99, 127, 130–133, 139, 140, 147–150, 153, 155, 157, 159 and Japan Express 77–81 and Japan Commercial News 81–90 Parodied in Japan Punch 94–99 See also Hansard, Albert Japan Punch 3–5, 48, 93, 95–127, 144, 146–148, 150, 154, 157, 159 History of 94–95 And Japan Herald 94–99 See also Wirgman, Charles Japan Times 4, 5, 42, 102, 109, 111, 113, 117, 127, 131–143, 147, 150–55, 159 Kaigai Shinbun 2, 4, 15, 21–38, 51, 67, 156 See also Heco, Joseph Kaiyakusha 81, 85 Katsu Kaishū 33, 34

170

index

Kawaraban 17, 31, 32, 52 Keele, O.R. 71, 98, 100, 102, 157 Keir, William 89 Kido Kōin 34 Kishida Ginkō 3, 4, 18–23, 29, 33, 37, 49–53, 60, 63 And Joseph Heco 19–21 And Eugene Van Reed 49–53 Leonard, Thomas C. 40 Lincoln, Abraham 2, 16, 25 Lindau, Robert 95 London Punch 125 Makino Tomisaburo 64 Matsudaira Shungaku 34 Matsudaira Yoshinaga 85 McKechnie, Alexander 127–133, 144, 146, 154 McLuhan, Marshall 67 Meiji government 13, 54–56, 61, 91 Meiji Restoration 12, 45–49, 59, 102, 121 Melville, Lewis 87 Mermet de Cachon, Emmanuel Eugène 41, 114–117 Mito 12, 18, 20 Morookaya Ihee 8 Mount Fuji 62 Nagasaki Shipping List and Advertiser 67–69, 79 Nakamura Sukeoki 33, 34 Okubō Toshimichi 33 Okuma Shigenobu 33 Ono Hideo 52, 155 Ōtsuki Fumihiko 39 Parkes, Harry S. 109 Pedlar, Neil 90 Perry, Matthew 2, 6, 7 Portman, Anton L.C. 153 Richardson Affair 101 Rickerby, Charles 106, 131–143, 147, 149–157 Parodied in Japan Punch 144–150

Roches, Leon 114 Rogers, G.W. 78 Sakamoto Ryōma 33 Sanjō Sanetomi 34 Satsuma 50, 57 Schoyer, Raphael 77–81 Schudson, Michael 5 Seare, Benjamin 42, 43, 131, 137, 141, 142, 149 Seward, William 153 Shinbunshi 3, 15, 19–23, 51, 53 Shōmura Shōzō 33, 34 Smith, George 11, 78, 79 Sonnō jōi 2, 4, 15, 16, 18, 19, 28, 32, 62, 113 Spielmann, M.H. 125 Tokugawa Akitake 46 Tokugawa Keiki 119, 120 Tokugawa Nariaki 18 Tokugawa Shogunate 7, 9, 12, 17, 25, 37, 41, 46, 50, 52, 54, 57, 64, 75, 114, 119, 121 Treaty of Amity and Commerce 7 Van Reed, Eugene 1, 3, 4, 20, 37, 49–67, 76, 77, 155–157, 159 Editor of Yokohama Shinpō Moshiogusa 49–66 Verbeck, Guido 33 Walsh, Hall, and Company 30, 33 Walsh, Phillip 82, 86 Watkins, Alfred Thomas 90, 91 Westwood, Charles L. 131 White, Richard 158 Williams, Harold S. 35 Wirgman, Charles 3, 5, 48, 93–124, 127, 144, 146–150, 154, 157, 159 See also Japan Punch Wylie, Robert C. 63 Yanagawa Shunsan 52, 53, 81 Yokohama, history of 6–13 Yokohama Shinpō Moshiogusa 67, 77, 155–157, 159 See also Van Reed, Eugene