Murderous Samurai of the Bakumatsu Period

In the latter half of the 19th Century, Japan would see 250 years of relative peace devolve into a bloody landscape of violence, with disillusioned samurai banding together to attach and permanently silence those who they believed to be ruining the country. This was further exacerbated by historic rivalries between domains, by class differences between the lower and upper samurai, as well as by the intra-domain politics of the time. In the midst of this chaos, bands of samurai bonded together to uphold their ideals, cloaking their murders under the pretense of honorable justice.

With Samurai Assasins, available from McCarthy and available on Amazon.com, Romulus Hillsborough continues his examination of the Bakumatsu--the fall of the Tokugawa Bakufu--that eventually gave birth to the Meiji Government and modern Japan. Fans of his earlier work on the Shinsengumi will recognize his style, presenting the events of the time with an eye towards the dramatic and captivating stories of the myriad individuals involved in those bloody events. Whereas that previous work focused primarily on those pro-Bakufu forces, this book focuses more on the actions of the pro-Imperial factions.  Together, these works complement each other and help further illuminate the complex violence of the period.

Hillsborough has really become one of the most recognized names in English literature on this period, presenting it in a way that is digestible even by those without previous depth in the period. He doesn't simplify the narrative, but neither is it beyond the reader to be able to comprehend. The present work may not be the go-to first volume for someone without any prior knowledge of Japanese history, but for those who have at least the broad brush strokes of the Bakamatsu period it may provide some insights easily overlooked when following some of the more popular threads in the intricate tapestry of events that unfolded in the latter half of the 19th century.

Samurai Assasins looks at three areas of the fall of the Tokugawa government and how assassinations, or "dark murder", played a role in how the events unfolded.  He starts with the assassination of Ii Naosuke, whose strongman tactics and then death many claim as one of the primary catalysts behind the later violence.  From there he looks at the numerous assassinations by men of the Tosa Loyalist Party, a pro-Imperial, anti-foreigner group of men that terrorized Kyoto in the 1860s.  Finally, he takes a look at the death of Sakamoto Ryōma, whose proposals were part of the foundation for the later Meiji government.  Through these events, he outlines some of the chaos and bloodshed that went on throughout this period.

With these stories, Hillsborough makes it clear that the political turmoil that brought down the Bakufu was extremely complex.  While it may be tempting to simplify the story of the revolution--the Imperial Loyalists, led by the Satsuma-Chōshū alliance, against the Tokugawa Bakufu and their supporters--Hillsborough delves into some of the complex motivations that moved the situation forward.  This can make the text dense at points; Hillsborough takes great lengths to provide the names of all of the actors, which may get confusing for readers not accustomed to Japanese names.  He counters this with a narrative style that comfortably leads the reader through the twists and turns of this historical record. 

The subject of the first part of this book, the assassination of Ii Naosuke, the Bakufu's strongman during the turbulent times of the mid-19th century, is often seen as a catalyst for much of the violence that would follow.  Romulus Hillsborough takes a look at the causes and effects of the Ansei Purge, Ii Naosuke's iron fisted attempts to squash Bakufu resistance, in conjunction with the rise of the subversive Mitogaku school of political thought that drove the assassins.  This assassination, known to history as the Sakuradamon Incident, is especially interesting in the light of the assassins' ties to the Bakufu--they were men of Mito, one of the three domains overseen by direct descendants of Tokugawa Ieyasu, the founder of the Tokugawa government.  In fact, in the following decade one of the scions of the Mito house would actually come to power as shōgun Tokugawa Yoshinobu, who would then have the dubious distinction of being the last shōgun, overseeing the end of the Bakufu. 

In examining the events, Hillsborough focuses less on the assassination itself, which has been fairly well documented in a variety of sources, and more on the causes and ramifications that followed.  He provides the situation in Mito leading up to the decision, and one can clearly see the conflict in society.  This was not a simple decision, nor was it inevitable, but myriad twists and turns pushed these men over the edge.  Hillsborough looks at the conditions in Mito, both the political situation of the Mito house of Tokugawa and the reaction among the lower ranks of samurai since the arrival of foreigners and the Bakufu's own negotiations with them.  From local remonstrations to the eventual assassination, Mito was clearly at odds with Bakufu policy, though they wouldn't go as far as the next domain.

The second topic in the book delves into the Tosa Loyalist Party, with particular attention paid to its leader, Takechi Hanpeita (aka Takechi Zuizan).  Tosa is another example of the complexity of this period, as its daimyō were traditionally fiercely loyal to the Tokugawa family.  However, the Tosa Loyalist Party took up the cause of Sonnō Jōi ("Revere the Emperor, Expel the Foreigners") even though their daimyō was a staunch supporter of the Bakufu.  Hillsborough covers many assassinations, from that of Yoshida Tōyō to numerous examples of tenchū, or "Heavenly Punishment". Most of these appear to have been instigated and carried out under the orders and influence of Hanpeita.  Detailing the bloody violence that these assassins brought to Kyoto--violence that eventually influenced the creation of the infamous Shinsengumi--Hillsborough describes the terror that they wrought.  This provides a clear counterpoint to his work on the Shinsengumi, and goes to show that there is blood on the hands of both sides in the fall of the Bakufu.

The killings in Kyoto are told in detail, at least where we have them.  Given that most of these killings were published by the assassins themselves, displayed on signs next to the heads or corpses of those they had killed, we have quite a bit of information, although the actual identities of most of the assassins remains a mystery.  Of those we know, only a few of the murders can be attributed to them directly.  Some of the more enlightening passages are the few contemporary accounts of the character and behavior of some of those involved in these dark deeds.  Throughout it all, the
humanity of the situation comes through, with many of the murderers driven in at least part with what they considered honorable motives.

Covering the Tosa Loyalist Party, Hillsborough looks at the inequalities between the various levels within the samurai class itself, especially in the Tosa domain.  This was exacerbated by the differing views of daimyō and his own retainers.  Although the ties of vassalage in feudal Japan are often thought to be absolute, the intra-domain politics were quite fierce, and with various parties vying for control of the ruling house.  Hillsborough describes the tension and conflict, following it through to the death of the Tosa Loyalist Party leader, Hanpeita.  Even then, the tale of his imprisonment and eventual execution--illuminated by his own letters to his wife, as well as the official record--demonstrates conflict within the domain and the beliefs that were driving anti-Tokugawa sentiment.

Interestingly, Hillsborough makes a similar case about the drivers of the Tosa Loyalists--and, in fact, many of the assassins of this period--as he does about the Rōshigumi and the Shinsengumi.  That is to say, these are samurai of the lower classes who likely saw an opportunity to showcase their skills and seek glory, hoping to increase their place in society through these acts.  The system of stipends, along with restrictions on what jobs a samurai could actually take and a rising population, meant that a good many were under-employed and their stipends did not go as far as they used to.  For them, a show of prowess may just earn them enough face and respect to land them a better position.  On either side, the killings were justified under extreme interpretations of bushidō and Neo-Confucian concepts of loyalty to either the Emperor or the Bakufu.  Few would have imagined that their acts would eventually lead to the destruction of the samurai class as a whole.

Hillsborough finishes off with the assassination of Sakamoto Ryōma.  Unlike the previous assassinations, committed by enemies of the Bakufu, this assassination was committed by pro-Bakufu forces, though the exact details remain unclear.  After a brief introduction to Sakamoto Ryōma, (more information on his life can be found in numerous English works, including Hillsborough's own Ryoma: Life of a Renaissance Samurai) Hillsborough takes the reader through the various reports of the incident.  There is no clear narrative on the assassination.  Many of the Bakufu reports are missing, and later "confessions" by people who claimed to be part of the attack don't fully match up with the official record, nor each other.  Hillsborough merges these accounts, and provides his take on their veracity, providing at least a plausible account of what happened (spoiler: he puts the blame on the Mimawarigumi).  He finishes off with a look at the repercussions and ramifications of the assassination, as well as a brief summary on the final fall of the Tokugawa Bakufu and the rise of the Meiji government.

Overall, the book reads well, and provides a look at these instances which many people outside of specialists are unlikely to be intimately familiar with.  Despite a slightly idiosyncratic system of Romanization (in particular the use of é on all kanji-final "e", not simply word-final, providing things like Takéda Hanpeita), the text flows easily enough.  It is accessible for even casual readers, covering subjects not typically found in most English histories of Japan.  Perhaps most importantly is the way that he follows the various paths that wind and wend their way through the fabric of this era.  It is easy to mistake this period as a straight up fight between supporters of the Bakufu and Imperial Loyalists.  Instead, we see exposed the internal tensions of Tokugawa Japan, formed through the historic ties between the various domains.  Although Satsuma and Chōshū are often spoken of in a single breath as the forces that finally brought down the government, it is easy to forget that before the political deal-making of Sakamoto Ryōma these two domains were fierce rivals.  That the concept of "expel the foreigners" was not strictly an anti-Bakufu stance, while many Imperial Loyalists viewed opening ties with the West as crucial to build up Japan's strength.  In all there was not one single factor that can be pointed to as the ultimate reason for the Bakufu's demise.  Hillsborough does an excellent job of cutting through all of this without oversimplifying everything.

If you are interested in Samurai Assassins, or some of Hillsborough's earlier works, his Amazon page.

Katsu Kaishu, Navigator Of Chaos: An Interview With Romulus Hillsborough, Author Of “Samurai Revolution”, Pt. 2

We’re happy to present our readers with the conclusion of our two-part interview with Romulus Hillsborough, author of the recently published Samurai Revolution: The Dawn of Modern Japan Seen Through the Eyes of the Shogun's Last Samurai. You can read part one of the interview HERE. In the following interview, RH is author Romulus Hillsborough and SA is the Samurai Archives’ Randy Schadel. 

SA: One of the more difficult concepts for newcomers to Bakumatsu studies to understand is why the new Imperial Government felt the need to use military force against the Tokugawa after Yoshinobu had resigned the office of Shogun and returned power to the Emperor in 1867. Satsuma and Choshu (in conjunction with some highly placed Court nobles) even went so far as to forge an Imperial edict to attack the Tokugawa and put together phony Imperial flags for the Satcho army. Was this simply a case of the Loyalists led by Satsuma and Choshu wanting to ensure that the Tokugawa would be eliminated from national politics beyond a shadow of a doubt? Or was there evidence that Yoshinobu still had plans to retain his primacy in the political arena? 

RH: Regarding this complicated issue, I refer readers to Samurai Revolution since I wrote quite a bit about it there. Let me just say here that the Imperial Court refused Yoshinobu’s request to abdicate and restore Imperial rule in the Tenth Month of Keio 3 (1867) because it wasn’t yet ready to accept the burden of governing; then after the coup in Kyoto in the next month, by which the Bakufu was abolished, Yoshinobu was deposed and a new provisional government was established under the Emperor, Yoshinobu no longer intended to step aside peacefully-which was why he sent 15,000 troops from Osaka to crush 5,000 enemy troops, mostly of Choshu and Satsuma. They clashed at Toba-Fushimi on the way to Kyoto and, of course, the Bakufu side was defeated. 

SA: Throughout Samurai Revolution you’re also quoting extensively from the accounts of foreign diplomats and officials, giving their contemporary viewpoint on the Bakumatsu. This gives a valuable outsider’s look at the proceedings and just what the ‘foreign devils’ responsible for much of the unrest thought of what was transpiring. Despite the fact that the English actively supported the Loyalists and the French the Shogunate (with the Dutch watching their own interests, the Russians chipping away at territories north of Japan, and the Americans largely staying out of things due to being involved in their own Civil War) when the actual fighting began in the Boshin War, the Western nations agreed to not become involved and remain neutral. What was it that kept the Western nations out of the conflict and perhaps spared Japan the fate that China suffered at the hands of the European and American powers? 

RH: I will not state the reasons that the foreign governments agreed to stay out of the internal conflict in Japan. However, I will say a little about France and Great Britain. Napoleon III, it seems, lost his stomach for overseas adventure, which was why the Bakufu lost France’s support in the latter part of Keio 3 (1867). Great Britain, on the other hand, wanted to secure its lucrative Japan trade, which was predicated on political stability in Japan. This was part of the reason that Ernest Satow published his essays, “English Policy,” in the Japan Times in 1865-66, in which he argued that the best means of assuring political stability in Japan was through a council of powerful feudal lords, including the shogun and his senior councilors, under the authority of the Emperor. Of course this resembles Sakamoto Ryoma’s great plan for the shogun’s abdication and restoration of Imperial rule, which he wrote down aboard ship in the summer of Keio 3 (1867). 

SA: The dramatic highlight of the book comes when your two central figures, Katsu Rintaro of the Shogunate and Saigo Takamori of the Imperialists, come together in early 1868 to save the city of Edo from destruction. While it is often assumed that Katsu was negotiating from a hopelessly weak position and threw the city’s fate on the mercy of the Imperial faction, it actually appears as if he had quite a bit to bargain with militarily-particularly the Tokugawa navy. There was also the fact that of all the Tokugawa vassals, he had the best relationship with the leaders of the Imperialists. Nonetheless, the negotiations were dicey with the behavior of extremists on both sides threatening to escalate the situation into all-out warfare. Through it all, Katsu continued to work towards ensuring Tokugawa Yoshinobu’s safety and the financial/political security of Tokugawa vassals. Had there not been such a strong preexisting bond between Katsu and Saigo (or had some other leaders headed up negotiations), was it likely that the city of Edo would have been destroyed-perhaps triggering an all-out civil war rather than the scattered fighting of the Boshin War? 

RH: The short answer is yes, I think so. Katsu Kaishu himself stated as much in his narrative, Kainanroku, which he wrote in 1884. And later in the 1890’s in an interview he said that had the Imperial Army sent anyone other than Saigo to speak with him, that person would have laid the blame for the dangerous situation on the Tokugawa, or on Yoshinobu, or on the troops who had fled the city, or on Kaishu himself, and “the talks would have broken down immediately.” However, like so many other things in history, nothing (or I should say, very little) is black and white. Consider this: Saigo had been forewarned by Sir Harry Parkes, the British minister to Japan (Satow’s boss), not to punish Yoshinobu or attack Edo, since the former shogun had already given up. “Killing the former leader of the nation, Parkes asserted, would violate international law. In the eyes of the rest of the world, as long as the Tokugawa agreed to surrender the castle, the Imperial Army lacked a moral justification to attack. Furthermore, Parkes warned, to launch an attack without first officially notifying the foreign representatives in Yokohama and safeguarding the lives and property of the foreign community smacked of anarchy.” (Samurai Revolution) 

SA: One of our favorite quotes from the book comes on page 522 courtesy of Saigo Takamori. In responding to a Satsuma man in the Meiji period who remarked that they would now be able to get rid of the foreigners, he states “Are you still talking about that? That was just an excuse to overthrow the Bakufu”. Among the higher-ups in actual positions of power among the various Loyalist han, do you believe that disenfranchising the Tokugawa was always the central goal and that Joi was only a means to garner support? 

RH: Originally, no-but after the summer of 1863, yes. Remember what occurred in Satsuma and Choshu that summer. Both of those han, leaders in the “expel the barbarians” movement, were punished by foreign warships in their own backyards – Satsuma by the British, and Choshu by American and French forces. After that they realized that Joi was impossible without first modernizing their militaries, for which they needed to trade with foreign nations. For further details, I refer readers to Samurai Revolution. 

SA: Saigo’s Rebellion (the Satsuma Rebellion/Seinan Sensou/Southwest Campaign of 1878) is usually seen as the last stand of the samurai, lashing out at the Meiji government for their loss in status and other assorted grievances. Saigo is often portrayed as aggressively spearheading the movement, most notably in works of pop culture like the film “The Last Samurai” (in the person of his cinematic ‘stand-in’, Katsumoto). But historically, it seems that Saigo ended up as the leader of the anti-Meiji forces almost by accident. Was he the reluctant leader he appears to have been, and if so, how did he end up in that position? 

RH: I wouldn’t say it was by accident but rather by circumstance. Saigo, after all, was probably the single most powerful driving force behind the revolution. And, as you will recall, he was hailed as a hero and natural leader by disgruntled samurai not only in Satsuma but throughout Japan. And, as I have explained in the book, Saigo was an extremely complex and enigmatic personality. Analyzing him is extremely difficult and sometimes he is impossible to understand. But as I write, he had “a genuine and reciprocated affection” for the Emperor. I quote Donald Keene that “absolutely nothing suggests that Saigo . . . had hoped another form of government might replace the monarchy,” based on his Confucian ethic that (in my own words) “the Emperor must rule according to Heaven’s will.” But he hated the corruption in the Meiji government. His ultimate objective in the Satsuma Rebellion (even if he did not actually start it) was, according to Keene, “to rid the emperor of the corrupt officials surrounding him so that he might rule undisturbed by their evil influence.” 

SA: The assassination of Sakamoto Ryoma in many ways is the Japanese version of the Kennedy assassination in America. While Shinsengumi chief Kondo Isami was unjustly executed for the crime and Imai Noburo of the Mimawarigumi later confessed to it, there are seemingly dozens of theories as to who the perpetrators were. A popular one is that it was agents of Satsuma or Choshu (Ryoma’s ostensible allies) who were concerned that Ryoma meant to work to include the Tokugawa in the new Imperial government or that Ryoma actually intended to maneuver himself into the government’s top spot (in effect, filling in the ‘three blank circles’ on one of his manifestos). What is your preferred theory? 

RH: I don’t have a preferred theory. 

SA: In your opinion, what impact might it have had on Japanese history if Tokugawa Yoshinobu been named Shogun instead of Tokugawa Iemochi in 1858? 

RH: I think it is safe to say that had Yoshinobu become shogun at that time, Ii Naosuke would have been defanged, and therefore would not have been able to purge his enemies from the government or to conclude the trade treaties without Imperial sanction. Therefore, he would not have been assassinated. And since his assassination marked the beginning of the end of the Tokugawa Bakufu . . . well, I think you can see where I’m headed with this logic. However, I prefer not to elaborate further in this forum, because I will discuss this in detail in my next book. 

SA: As well as providing an engaging narrative, we found Samurai Revolution to be an excellent reference work. It has extensive footnotes, a glossary of important terms, domains, and figures, a bibliography filled with excellent Japanese sources, and a sizable index. What were some of the issues you faced trying to balance the two-keeping the narrative interesting while making sure the book retained its usefulness as an historical text? In a related point, how did you handle the issue of bias among your sources-how to determine whether to take them at face value or read between the lines? 

RH: Writing requires technique, which, for me, has developed over many years. In other words, it is a craft that needs to be learned. Maintaining historical accuracy is an academic task. Writing a narrative to hold readers’ interest, maintaining historical and cultural accuracy, and presenting the humanity of my characters have been my overriding objectives in all my books. As you know, my first book, Ryoma: Life of a Renaissance Samurai, is an historical novel. As such, I did not cite my sources in that book. And while most of the dialogue is my own creation, it is based on historical documents including Ryoma’s letters, and definitive biographies of Ryoma and other main characters in the book. I took as much care to maintain historical and cultural accuracy in that book as I have in all subsequent books, including the historical narrative (i.e., nonfiction) Samurai Revolution, which is my best book thus far. 

Regarding your second question about taking my sources at face value or reading between the lines, I will limit my answer to a brief discussion of two compilations of interviews of Katsu Kaishu, from which I quote extensively in Samurai Revolution. As I explained in the Appendix, one of these, Hikawa Seiwa, is a compilation of interviews that originally appeared in newspapers and magazines. They were erroneously edited and partially rewritten by the editor of the original 1897 publication. Katsu Kaishu’s most authoritative biographer, Matsuura Rei, meticulously researched the original interviews to correct those errors. Matsuura’s annotated edition of Hikawa Seiwa, published by Kodansha in 1973, was my source. The other compilation of Kaishu interviews, Kaishu Goroku, was the work of one person, who conducted all of the interviews himself. As such, the original 1899 publication, which appeared shortly after Katsu Kaishu’s death, was a more reliable source than Hikawa Seiwa before the Kodansha edition. The Kaishu interviews are “oral histories,” recounted in the 1890s, decades after the fact. As such, they may be viewed with skepticism. But, as I write in my new book, their credibility “is reinforced by their agreement with Katsu Kaishu’s journals, written memoirs, and histories–as if he had drawn on them for the interviews–and by the fact that the contents in both volumes, though recorded, edited, and published separately, often replicate each other.” 

SA: You were a long term resident of Japan and made it a point to visit many of the locales and historical sites where the events described in Samurai Revolution took place. What advantages did that give you in the writing process over someone who had only read about them in documents and books?

RH: I won’t speak for other writers, but I would not have been able to write any of my books in the style that I have chosen, had I not been able to visualize certain of the historical events and places depicted. Visiting and observing–and feeling–the actual sites, not only buildings and other man-made structures but also the natural surroundings and topography of the places, aided in the visualization process. It also helped me to better understand the men who lived and died in those places.

SA: Now that you’ve written a comprehensive examination of the Bakumatsu and books on several of its most well-known figures and organizations, what projects can we expect from you in the future? 

RH: I am currently working on a new book of the same historical era. I hope to finish the manuscript this year. 

SA: Thank you, Mr. Hillsborough, for your insights and thoughts on this pivotal period of Japanese history, and best of luck on all your future projects. 

You can order Samurai Revolution on the SA’s Amazon store HERE or directly from Tuttle Publishing’s website HERE . Visit Romulus Hillsborough’s Samurai Revolution website for more about the book along with interesting essays and news items (such as documents recently discovered in Kochi sealed with Sakamoto Ryoma’s blood).