Legal Scholar Boissonade, Keio University, the Takanawa Embankment, and Yokohama: "New Discoveries" in "Boissonade and His Civil Code"

2021/11/18

"Open the window and you can see the sea"—this is a line from "Oka no Ue," with lyrics by Mizuho Aoyagi and music by Meiro Sugawara. This is not fiction. One could actually see the sea from Mita Campus. "Oka no Ue," the Keio University college song sung when winning the Waseda-Keio rivalry, was composed in 1928 (Showa 3). In those days, the southern side of the campus opened out toward the sea.

Furthermore, during the Meiji era, most buildings in the city were, of course, wooden single-story or two-story structures, so Mita Campus was literally a "mountain." From the time the Mita Media Center (Keio University Library) (Old Building) was completed in 1912 (Meiji 45), photographs remain showing a distant view of the Gothic-style Western building towering atop the hill as seen from the sea side.

Last year, in 2020, amidst the COVID-19 pandemic, the news that briefly buzzed in newspapers and on television was the discovery of the remains of the "Takanawa Embankment." The former railway between Shimbashi and Yokohama used to run along an embankment in the sea around what is now the area between Shinagawa and Tamachi. Most likely, the Mita Media Center (Keio University Library) of that time was clearly visible from inside the train. Just as that news broke, I was at my desk writing my book, "Boissonade and His Civil Code [Expanded and Completed Edition]" (Keio University Press), which coincidentally connects three stories: research on the "hired foreigner" Boissonade, a specialist in civil law; Keio University; and the Takanawa Embankment.

Here, I would like to write a continuation of several "new discoveries" that I could only partially include in the academic book published in September of this year. The keyword is "The Hill with a View of the Sea." This is a story from around 1892 (Meiji 25), when the library had not yet been built.

The name Boissonade (Gustave Émile Boissonade de Fontarabie, 1825–1910) is likely a name that anyone who has studied civil law at the Faculty of Law has encountered several times. He was a French legal scholar who performed exceptional work among the so-called "hired foreigners" of the Meiji government. His activities at the time were hailed as the "Danjuro of the legal world," and he made immense contributions not only to the drafting of the Old Civil Code and Old Penal Code but also to legal education and diplomatic negotiations.

He was heavily relied upon by Toshimichi Okubo starting from the negotiations with Qing China the year after his arrival in Japan in 1873 (Meiji 6). His greatest achievement, the Old Civil Code, is said to have vanished in the "Code Controversy" after its promulgation, but in reality, it was "revised" by Japanese committee members, and a considerable number of its articles remain in the Meiji Civil Code that continues to the present day. Ultimately, he stayed in Japan for a long period of 22 years and is called the "Father of Modern Japanese Law."

I first began research on Boissonade, which connects civil law interpretation with history, around 1975 (Showa 50) when I became a graduate student. This research, started under the guidance of my mentor in civil law, Dr. Keishiro Uchiike, and the authority on Meiji legal history, Dr. Yutaka Tezuka, finally bore fruit in the 2011 collection of papers "Boissonade and His Civil Code." Now, I have published the [Expanded and Completed Edition], adding four chapters and approximately 200 pages. In this [Expanded and Completed Edition], regarding Japanese old customs, I came across the correspondence between Boissonade in his final years in Japan and Wigmore, who came to Japan as the head professor of the Keio University college Department of Law established in 1890 (Meiji 23) (based on the research of current Vice-President Professor Juro Iwatani). This led to the story of the railway that passed through the Takanawa Embankment and even to the story of Kanagawa Station before the terminus.

John Henry Wigmore was invited from Harvard University as the head professor of the newly established Keio University "college Department of Law" in 1890 (Meiji 23)—the same year Boissonade's Old Civil Code was promulgated. Yukichi Fukuzawa, determined to establish the college, requested Harvard President Eliot to dispatch three head professors for the department of political economy, the department of literature, and the department of law. Wigmore, at age 26, came to Japan as the youngest member of those three.

Incidentally, while all private law schools at the time were teaching French law, English law, and the draft of Boissonade's Old Civil Code in Japanese, Yukichi Fukuzawa had Wigmore teach Anglo-American law (unrelated to Japan's statutes or drafts at the time) entirely in English. Furthermore, the tuition was three times that of other private law schools, and the entrance exam consisted of an unparalleled 10 subjects, excluding the Imperial University. As a result, the Keio University college Department of Law naturally became the latest-starting private law school with an extremely small number of students. However, that unique vision led to the development of the Faculty of Law, Department of Law, which is said to be the most difficult private university humanities department in modern Japan, and to the prosperity of the Law School, which competes for the top spot in the number and rate of successful bar exam candidates.

Wigmore became a professor at Northwestern University in Chicago after returning home and became a master of legal history and the law of evidence. After arriving in Japan, he became interested in Japanese old customs and began research, writing letters to Boissonade to seek his guidance. It was Professor Iwatani's research 20 years ago that clarified those details (Juro Iwatani, "An Introductory Study of 14 Letters from Boissonade to Wigmore: The Civil Code Controversy and Two Foreign Lawyers," Hogaku Kenkyu Vol. 73, No. 11).

In the second reply from Boissonade to Wigmore (February 1891 [Meiji 24]), the place of origin is listed as "Kanagawa, Takashima yama." Regarding this "Kanagawa, Takashimayama," Professor Iwatani quotes an explanation from a geographical dictionary, stating: "Currently called Takashimadai, it is a plateau over 40 meters high located in the southern part of Kanagawa Ward, Yokohama City, at the junction with Nishi Ward. The name originates from the fact that Kaemon Takashima directed the reclamation of Takashima-cho from this height in the early Meiji era and resided there in later years." He further notes, "The Tokaido road ran as if circling below this height, and a large bay spread out in front of the station."

Let me continue from there. At the end of the eighth letter from Boissonade dated November 23, 1892 (Meiji 25), which Professor Iwatani presents, there is a sentence: "I also go to the Ministry of Justice every Tuesday and Friday from 10:30 AM to noon." Comparing this with maps of the time, the area after descending Takashimayama (Takashimadai) was the location of Kanagawa Station, an intermediate station before the terminus of the railway between Shimbashi (now Shiodome) and Yokohama (now Sakuragicho) that opened in Meiji 5 (located slightly toward the Tokyo side from the current Yokohama Station). This means that at some point after his temporary return and return to Japan in Meiji 22, and certainly by February Meiji 24 after the Old Civil Code was promulgated, Boissonade was already living on this Takashimayama (at the Kaemon Takashima villa mentioned later) and "commuting" to the Ministry of Justice by train.

And around November Meiji 25, he says, "I go to the Ministry of Justice every Tuesday and Friday from 10:30 AM to noon," so his attendance was only twice a week for one and a half hours each. Here, one can catch a glimpse of the Meiji government's treatment of Boissonade—who was once celebrated as the "Danjuro of the legal world" and was extremely busy—after the decision to postpone the enforcement of the Old Civil Code.

Now, up to this point is what I recorded in my book "Boissonade and His Civil Code [Expanded and Completed Edition]," but the "new discovery" regarding Boissonade's residence in his final years in Japan does not actually end here. Was the "train commute" I imagined actually possible in a smooth manner? I sought help from Professor Toshinori Wada (currently Professor at the Graduate Schools for Law and Politics, the University of Tokyo), who has taught criminal law at the Keio University Law School. Professor Wada is the foremost railway expert in Japan's legal academic circles and is the author of "The Story of Railways and Criminal Law" (NHK Publishing New Books). Upon my inquiry, the following reply came back immediately.

"Thank you for the exciting opportunity to imagine Boissonade's commute. It seems that every time the train timetable was revised, a public notice (advertisement) from the Railway Bureau was published in the Official Gazette. For Meiji 25, as far as I have investigated, the most recent time revision was implemented on January 12, Meiji 24, and that timetable was published in the Official Gazette on December 22, Meiji 23. Looking at this, for the outbound trip, the express train departing Kanagawa at 9:25 AM and arriving at Shimbashi at 10:05 AM, and for the return, the local train departing Shimbashi at 1:10 PM (arriving at Kanagawa at 2:00 PM) would be the perfect trains."

Professor Wada's email even included a copy of the timetable published in the Official Gazette at the time. I was amazed; he is truly a professional. In other words, with a travel time of 40 to 50 minutes one way, he could leave his residence on Takashimayama around 9:00 AM and return to Kanagawa by 2:00 PM. (Even if he had a leisurely lunch near Shimbashi before returning home, he could return to his residence after 3:00 PM on the next express train departing Shimbashi at 2:20 PM and arriving at Kanagawa at 3:00 PM). It can be called a quite comfortable commute. During the period when his life's work, the Old Civil Code, was promulgated but its enforcement was postponed and it was being rebuilt with major revisions, Boissonade, in his final years in Japan, was commuting by train twice a week from Kanagawa Station to Shimbashi via the Takanawa Embankment.

This is where the story connects to the Takanawa Embankment. The exact location of the Takanawa Embankment had become unknown due to the progress of land reclamation in the vicinity from the late Meiji to early Showa eras, but in 2019, during the redevelopment of the west side of the new Yamanote Line station, Takanawa Gateway Station, remains were discovered over a distance of about 1.3 km. On August 23, 2021, the Council for Cultural Affairs recommended that part of the remains of the Takanawa Embankment be designated as a historic site. The reason for constructing the Takanawa Embankment lay in the opposition to railway construction at the time. In particular, the Army and Navy seem to have strongly opposed it; notably, officials from the Ministry of Military Affairs at the Navy's land in Shinagawa Yatsuyama-shita would not even allow surveying, forcing a change in plans to avoid that area.

Hiroshige Utagawa (III), "True View of the Steam Train Railway at the Shinagawa Seashore in Tokyo," circa Meiji 5 (1872), large-format nishiki-e triptych (Owned by Keio University)

It was decided to build an embankment about 6.4 meters wide to run the railway tracks by cutting down Gotenyama and using the soil to fill in the shallow sea. Therefore, the Takanawa Embankment runs parallel to the coastline at a point not far from the coastline of that time. In fact, about 2.7 km from Yatsuyama-shita to the boundary between Honshiba and Kanasugi (near the current south exit of Hamamatsucho Station) became the embankment. The remains found this time span a total of 800 meters, between the west side of Takanawa Gateway Station and National Route 15. At the time, waterways were created under the tracks in places to allow boats to pass (the nishiki-e "True View of the Steam Train Railway at the Shinagawa Seashore in Tokyo" also depicts a bridge-like part), and a total of about 120 meters, including "Bridge No. 7," will be preserved as a historic site.

However, the story of this article does not end there. In fact, between Shimbashi and Yokohama, there was another location where major construction was carried out through the sea. That was a massive civil engineering project to reclaim the sea before the terminus, Yokohama Station (now Sakuragicho Station), and create a large shortcut for the curve to the terminus. The person who undertook this approximately 1.4 km "Yokohama Great Sea Wall" (a scale with a width of 65 meters, about 10 times that of the Takanawa Embankment, making it more of a "reclamation" than an embankment) was none other than Kaemon Takashima, in whose villa Boissonade resided.

Looking at photographs from the time, Kanagawa Station was located at the very edge of the coast after descending near the old Tokaido Kanagawa-juku as seen from the Tokyo direction. From there, the tracks extended toward the terminus, Yokohama Station (now Sakuragicho Station), through the middle of the sea on reclaimed land much further from the shore than the Takanawa Embankment. In other words, the area between the current heights of Daimachi in Kanagawa Ward and the heights of Tobe in Nishi Ward was an inlet called Sodegaura until the Meiji Restoration ("Historical Corners of Yokohama"). The reclaimed land was given to Kaemon and named Takashima-cho. Although the embankment was absorbed into the city area as surrounding reclamation progressed from the late Meiji to the Taisho era, part of the site is still used today as railway tracks and roads.

Kaemon is said to have directed the construction from the hill with a view of the sea, but when visiting the site from Kanagawa Station on the Keikyu Line across Aoki Bridge, the slope is steeper than expected despite the short distance. Part of the site of the former Kaemon Takashima villa remains today as "Kaemon Park." It is indeed a place that becomes a cliff toward the Yokohama Port side, but since tall buildings now stand from below that cliff, nothing can be seen on the sea side (the view of that time opens up if you move slightly east). And the monument "Bokindai no Hi," which states that Kaemon watched the progress of the construction from here, used to be around here, but it has now been moved to Takashimayama Park on the opposite side of the summit of Takashimadai, and unfortunately, what can be seen from there is in the direction of Tokyo and Chiba.

Looking at maps from the time, the former Kaemon Takashima villa was connected like the Japanese archipelago on the flat land at the top of this Takashimayama, which is now several apartment buildings, in a form overlooking the port, and part of it included a Western-style building. Most likely, the Western-style building was where Boissonade was staying. It is known that he not only lived there just before returning home, but was already in "Kanagawa" around September and October Meiji 21, drafting and writing commentaries for the final parts of the property law section of the Old Civil Code (the section on security of obligations and the section on evidence).

Unable to bear the sight of Boissonade working desperately at his desk while his legs were swollen from the final push of work, Kowashi Inoue and others made a representation, and he was allowed to work while recuperating in Atami, Kamakura, and then Kanagawa.

Now, the story is not over yet. Here, I would like to have Yukichi Fukuzawa appear. Kaemon Takashima, who was a versatile entrepreneur—starting as a lumber merchant in Edo at the end of the Edo period and moving into the inn business in Yokohama, which many politicians used, and railway construction (also involved in the establishment of the Hokkaido Colliery and Railway Company in later years)—once established and managed a private Western school. In Meiji 4 (1871), Kaemon built a large-scale school building for the Western school ("Yokohama Town School," commonly known as Takashima School) in Yokohama Iseyama-shita (said to be around the current Honcho Elementary School in Hanasaki-cho, Nishi Ward; in other words, a location very close to Yokohama Station) and requested Fukuzawa to assume the position of school principal.

As mentioned in "The Autobiography of Yukichi Fukuzawa," he first declined the appointment as principal (supervisor), and Kaemon apparently tried to recruit him again by offering to provide funds for Fukuzawa's sons to study abroad. However, Fukuzawa may have had some concerns or doubts about Kaemon, who was trying to manage the Western school as a commercial enterprise (in fact, Fukuzawa does not mention Kaemon Takashima's name in his autobiography, writing instead "a certain wealthy merchant in Yokohama").

Fukuzawa declined this request and instead seems to have dispatched his disciples Muto Nagoya, Ban Iwata, Senjiro Tsuboi, Susumu Ebina, and Shinichi Murao as teachers (according to "The Fifty-Year History of Keio University"). In fact, during this period, there were requests from all over the country to dispatch teachers from the Juku. According to Kaemon's biography, more senior disciples Heigoro Shoda, Jinzaburo Obata, Murao, and Akahoshi were invited.

Kaemon let go of this Takashima School and it ended up being short-lived, but classes are said to have started in early Meiji 5 (1872). One can only imagine whether the instructors from the Juku commuted by train from Shinagawa Station (which would be built where the embankment at Yatsuyama-shita begins) after the railway opened in October of that year, or whether the younger ones still relied on boat transport from off the coast of Shinagawa.

Why did the railway terminus end up around the current Sakuragicho Station? What was the nature of the opposition to the railway at the time, as seen in the construction of the Takanawa Embankment? To begin with, the Yokohama foreign settlement was a "Dejima" created on reclaimed land away from the traditional Tokaido Kanagawa-juku. There is still much more that should be written. However, I will close this article now that I have reached the dispatch of Yukichi Fukuzawa's disciples. I would like to leave the story of the current prosperity of the Faculty of Law—which began with the interaction between Boissonade and Wigmore, the head professor of the Keio University college Department of Law opened in Meiji 23 as the last of the so-called nine major law schools—to another article.