On the 5th of March the Foreign Representatives returned to Ōsaka. On the 7th there came a pressing request to Sir Harry from the Mikado’s government to allow Dr. Willis to go to Kiōto to visit Yōdo, the Inkiyō (retired Prince) of Tosa, who was grievously ill. Sir Harry consented on condition that I should accompany him, for he never lost any opportunity of getting behind the scenes in the great political drama which was being played. I should add that during the previous month Dr. Willis had gone to the capital to give advice and help in the case of the wounded soldiers of the clans. On that occasion he was accompanied by Mr. Satow, who brought back most valuable information as to the state of parties and was able to give the government, new to all diplomatic procedure, excellent advice as to their dealings with foreigners—especially in the matter of the Bizen attack. They must have been the first foreigners to set foot in the sacred city since the days of the Christian troubles nearly three hundred years ago, for the occasional passing of the Dutch merchants of Deshima could hardly be taken into account. Dr. Willis and I lost no time; we started at eight o’clock in the evening having, to use a Japanese expression, “broken our bones” in getting ready; we could have started earlier had it not been for the delay caused by the very officer who, with such urgent instructions, had been sent to give us all facilities, and who had done absolutely nothing! However, after endless wanderings through Ōsaka in search of this trusty guide, we were finally deposited with a brazier and a lacquer box full of rice and fish—enough for a dozen men—in a Teaboat, one of the small craft in which the good citizens take their pleasure merrily on the river during the summer nights, and so we slept and feasted our way up the river to Fushimi, eight miles from Kiōto. Here we found but little to see of the deadly battle of the end of January. To be sure much of the town had been destroyed by fire, but in this land, where the houses are built of wood and paper and whole districts are burnt down by the peaceful upsetting of a brasero on a windy day, the charred remains of a great conflagration excite little astonishment and still less suggest the horrors of war. The burning of the bridge at Yōdo was more significant. Yōdo was a stronghold of the Tycoon which his general, dazzled as the clansmen said by the appearance of the Mikado’s standard, the golden sun on a scarlet ground, treacherously gave up to the enemy.